Victorio!

It sounded like an American-sounding name, but it was an Indian in the truest sense of the word.

At the end of the 19th century, during a series of battles against the North American invaders, the name Victorio, like the names of "Red Cloud", "Crazy Horse" and "Geronimo", used to make a little splash in the vast ocean of war.

Later, this little wave was quietly extinguished. All traces of the Indians that ever existed, have been erased.

As the whites have always done, the history and culture of the Indians were destroyed.

So much so that future generations will misunderstand, thinking that the human race on this continent was once as high as 30 million or 100 million, and they died out like dinosaurs, and overnight, a meteorite fell from the sky, and all people with yellow skin and black eyes were over!

However, in fact, is this really the case?

In this Stone Age war against the Gunpowder Age, in the next two hundred years of American power, Victorio, this little name, after all, survived the countless encirclements and pursuits of the mountains and rivers, just like the battles of his life.

He died in 1880, with only two soldiers left to follow him.

But his name remained more than a hundred years later.

……

"Victorio?" Turtledove asked in surprise.

It was the first time he had heard a familiar name since he had crossed over.

This name, his body, the turtledove, has also been heard.

Victorio was the chieftain of the Chihuntte tribe, and he led the warriors of their tribe, fighting the Apache tribe, fighting the Americans, and also fighting the Mexicans.

From Alamosa they fought south to Mexico City and north to San Nofi, and throughout the southern Sierra Madre, there were gunshots of Victorio resisting everywhere.

However, he was not a natural rebel.

In the beginning, he was the most obedient Indian chief in the eyes of whites.

He even learned English and Spanish, and took the initiative to give up Alamosa, where his tribe had lived for generations, for white settlements.

But then his 'friendship' with the white man broke down.

The Chihunte tribe entered the Sierra Madre under the combined siege of the Apache and the whites.

It had been months since he heard from the Resistance, and Ikaruga thought that Victorio was finally dead.

I didn't expect him to be alive.

"Yes, Victorio!" The beaver said proudly.

Turtledove almost immediately wanted to say yes to him.

But another memory from his body told him that he should calm down first.

That's right, Victorio was the banner of the resistance of all the Indians of the Sierra Madre generation.

However, his resistance was in vain.

No matter how heroic he was, no matter how cunning he was.

Even if he has a sister who claims to be able to communicate with the gods and predict the future, and a brother who is fierce and can tear the yellow sheep alive.

But in the face of steel, gunpowder, and germs, none of this makes sense.

"I ...... I need to think again! Turtledove said.

"What else do you need to think about? Turtle dove! The beaver said, "You are now at your end!" Can you believe that as long as you leave now, no matter which way you go, before dark, the bounty hunters will come to you and exchange your head for money. ”

"Are you going to snitch?" Turtledove asked.

"Of course I'm not going to snitch, I wish you could get out. But it's impossible! The beaver said, "There seems to be nothing in this wilderness, but there are white people and their eyeliner everywhere." ”

"As long as you don't snitch."

"If I go to the snitch, I'll be bitten to death by a thousand snakes!" The beaver swears. "I don't understand, why don't you want to join the Resistance? Do you think those white people will let you go? ”

"Beaver! The rebels themselves cannot be protected, and if I join you, I will also die! Turtledove said.

The guerrilla warfare of the rebels was an itch in the boots for the whites, and the recovery capacity of the whites who had completed industrialization far exceeded their blood loss.

Instead, he wandered the wasteland single-handedly, and with his golden finger ability, he might be able to live a little longer.

And, to be honest, the turtledove felt that this beaver was a little too enthusiastic about him.

……

Not long after the turtledove left the greenstone.

The beaver returned to Greenstone Village, standing in front of a white man with his beard still stained with liquor.

"Mr. Sergeant, he won't join the Resistance!" Beaver said.

"That's a shame!" The sergeant said. "$100 for a scalp and 30 pesos for a head, and if he agrees to join the Resistance, it's 100 pesos, tsk!"

"Sir, I have a ...... that is not very mature," Beaver said cautiously.

"Say!"

"Why do you have to get him to agree? We could have forged a document to prove his connection to the Resistance—"

"Shut up, you idiot!" The sergeant interrupted the beaver and said, "God loves the honest!" ”

Then he muttered in a low voice, "Our Lieutenant George is not a fool!" If he finds out I'm using a fake rebel head to scam him out of money, he'll kill me!" ”

The beaver laughed wryly and admitted his stupidity.

He had at least nine ways to prove that the turtledove was a member of Victorio's resistance, but that didn't do him any good.

The white man does not reward him for his cleverness, on the contrary, every outstanding Indian will always die faster than the average Indian.

"Why did you earn 35 pesos last month and only 36 this month?" The sergeant looked at the beaver dissatisfied.

"Well, that's right, Mr. Sergeant, there are fewer and fewer bison in the moor, and, besides, now those new immigrants prefer to grow cotton rather than hunt—"

"Don't give me a reason, beaver!" The sergeant said dissatisfiedly: "I want growth, and growth rate!" Just like the rubber tree in the field, if this one can't cut the rubber, then you should replace it! If you can't, I'll change someone else! ”

"Don't worry, Mr. Sergeant!" The beaver hurriedly said: "There are still 5 days left in this month, and I promise that the yield of these 5 days will definitely satisfy you!" ”

"Get down!" The sergeant stood up, wiped his beard, put his wine-scented finger in his mouth, sucked it, picked up the musket beside him and walked out of the cabin.

The sergeant pulled the rope under the hut and rang the bell.

In a few moments, five knights arrived.

"Guys, I've found a turtledove!" The sergeant said, "Let's go hunting!" ”