In the bedroom conference room of the turtledove.

The turtledove took the revolver from Rotzen's hand and hung it back on his waist.

He didn't say anything specifically to Lotzen, but to everyone:

"Good, good."

"After going through so much, I am very happy that everyone can still say the word 'type' firmly and consistently. This also shows that our hard work has not been in vain after all! ”

"What kind of tribe is the turtledove tribe?"

"It's different from other tribes."

"The other tribes are nothing more than a group of people who gather together to keep each other warm, they are starving because they can't afford to get food and clothing, and the purpose of their tribes is to keep themselves alive. They don't think about tomorrow because tomorrow is too far away for them! ”

"And we're different. We don't just come together to survive. We are also starving, but not because we don't have access to food and clothing, but because we are building up strength for tomorrow. We think about tomorrow every day, and if there is no tomorrow, the existence of the turtledove tribe has no meaning. ”

"The other tribes fought just because they were forced into a corner. And we- of course we have been pushed into a corner, but more often than not, we have to take the initiative to choose to fight before we are cornered! ”

"Other tribes only bully the weak, they swallow up small tribes, rob their own people, but never dare to swing their swords at stronger enemies. And we are different, our tribe, from the first day of its birth, it has chosen for itself a most formidable enemy - the whites! ”

"Don't let the battle choose us, but let us choose the fight!"

"Don't wait until the rises to dig a pit, don't wait until you are forced to the end of the mountain to regret that you didn't fight hard, you have to fight, just now! Fight when we're at our best! Fight when we're at our best! ”

"Now, immediately, immediately go and fight!"

Turtledove said so much in one breath, and in the end, he almost gritted his teeth, squeezing word by word out of his mouth.

His anger could be heard by all.

Everyone clenched their fists tightly, tightly restraining their hatred and blood in their bodies, even if they were about to explode.

Only the scalp, the blood is surging, I can't control myself, and I punch the wall!

"Fight!"

……

Greenstone Village.

With the transfer of the militia here, the prosperity here has shrunk a lot.

Although it is said that a large number of war horses have come in, but the war horses will not be able to do business, and if they do not do business, they cannot extort money, and Sergeant Scott's income has suddenly decreased by a large margin.

Occasionally, one or two horses were reported casualties and secretly resold to the Indians, but this kind of thing actually didn't make much money. The Indians were terribly poor, and the poor mountains and rivers were out of the people, and it was the same everywhere. Buying and selling is hard to do!

The beaver is still beaten twice in three days.

But he still didn't leave here. The news from the north was bad, and the situation of the rebels was getting worse and worse, and nothing was improving.

There was an Apache man named Fury Wind confronting the white army, and the beavers didn't bother to pay attention to him.

What is there to focus on?

Sooner or later, it's a death.

Something that even Victorio can't do, Fury, take the head and hit it?

Probably the only good news is that the 'surprise' he gave to Turtledove does seem to make Turtledove very satisfied.

That's good.

Hopefully, Lotzen, a rare and beautiful woman among the Indians, will be able to convince Ikaruga to hurry up and save Victorio.

The leader of the rebels was now surrounded in a jungle in the Sierra Madre near the Hira Desert, and the whites and Indians who hunted him hovered like vultures smelling dead bodies, hovering in Victorio's hideout.

If this continues, Victorio will be dead.

Victorio must not die!

If he died, it meant that the banner of resistance of the southern Indians had completely fallen, and from then on, no Indian would dare to rebel against the whites.

On this sunny afternoon, the beaver lay on the grass and watched the white clouds drift around in the sky.

He wondered if there had been a day in the millennia of time when an Indian had seen the same white cloud lying in his present position.

The Indians at that time should have been leisurely, right? Maybe you can also play a bamboo flute with a dirt dog lying next to you?

There weren't whites then, and there weren't as many gunshots in the land.

Thinking of this, the beaver's anxious brow stretched a little.

It seems that he has heard that Loczen, after gaining the love of the turtledove, persuaded the turtledove to hurry up and save her brother, and the turtledove agreed.

Well, then, Ikaruga led his tribe and successfully joined Victorio.

The banner of the rebels is flying again on the top of the hill—

……

"Beaver, don't lie down! Get up for Lao Tzu! ”

Sergeant Scott's shout, like a talisman, bounced the beaver out of the haystack.

"Coming, coming......"

The beaver hurriedly followed the sound and ran over.

"Quick! Catch the horses! Scott said aloud.

Driving horses?

What are you doing with horses?

Seeing the beaver's doubts, Scott gave a rare explanation: "I have received an order from Major Christopher of the El Paso Regiment to drive the horses here to the Conchos River as soon as possible!" ”

The beaver suddenly realized.

Greenstone Village had 300 horses and originally had ten militiamen, but under the operation of Sergeant Scott, only three militiamen were used.

Originally, this was not a problem, feeding the horses, this kind of work, Scott let his subordinates work hard to do it.

But now to drive all three hundred horses to the Conchos River, it is not something that three soldiers can do.

No matter how good the war horse is, once it runs, where can the three of them be restrained?

One of them didn't get right, and when they ran to the Konchos River, there were only a hundred horses left...... Scott is afraid that he will be shot!

The beaver hurriedly found a horse to ride on, and followed Scott to catch up on the horse.

He hadn't eaten dinner yet, he had forgotten to eat lunch, and he wasn't in the habit of eating breakfast. Forget it, today is almost over anyway, and hunger is tomorrow's thing.

"Mr. Sergeant, I heard that Captain George was ambushed in the woods?" Beaver asked.

"Hmm." Since Sergeant Scott took charge of the Greenstone Village Horse Farm alone, he has been relatively kind when he needs to hire people.

"Alas, what a misfortune!" Beaver said.

"He deserves it!" Scott said that there was no such deference as he had been under Captain George. "I've told him many times that Indians aren't that easy to fight, and he doesn't believe it! Now it's okay, it's dead! ”

"Huh? Is he dead? ”

"What if you don't die?" Scott said, "Damn, he still owes me two pesos!" ”

The beaver felt a little guilty.

It's all to blame for himself, he didn't make good money, and he even made his boss angry for two pesos!