The beaver thought it was a really good afternoon.

The sky is so blue, and the fields are so wide.

The horses galloped across the endless fields, and the cool wind blew by their side, and their clothes were hunting.

Sergeant Scott hadn't beaten him in two days.

I didn't force him to find some 'big business' anymore.

There was a lake in front of it, and it was like an emerald.

The horses stopped at the lake to rest.

Sergeant Scott ran from a distance, naked and wrapped in a bullet bag.

"Beaver, you're also an Indian, can't you go to those Indian tribes and ask why they don't buy things now?"

Why? It's not because I'm too poor! Beaver thought to himself.

"I can't help it, Mr. Sergeant, the Indian tribes have been carried north by the furious wind!"

"Damn Fury!" Scott cursed hatefully. Then he habitually added: "Damn beavers!" ”

Since Scott's promotion to sergeant, his eyes have also been opened, and he is no longer satisfied with doing some needle and thread business with those wandering cowboys and pioneers.

His greatest desire now is to find an Indian tribe and do a 'big business'.

He had high hopes for beavers.

But the beaver always let him down.

Bai has black hair and yellow skin, which is a waste of resources!

"Beaver, if Major Christopher asks, why are there only five of us, you know what to say?"

The beaver looked at Sergeant Scott quizzically, and asked, "What do you say?" ”

"Damn it!" Scott flicked the whip over and whipped it on the beaver's body, "I'm asking you!" ”

After this whip, the beaver finally regained his familiar feeling.

"Mr. Sergeant, otherwise, let's say that those soldiers have other tasks......

"Bastard! Is there any task more important than transporting horses? Sergeant Scott was furious, and the whip in his hand was ready to try.

"Then say they've been attacked and they're dead!" The beaver hurriedly shouted: "We met the damned Indians in the process of transporting the horses, and Mr. Sergeant led everyone to fight bravely, sacrificing seven soldiers to repel the Indians, and after a lot of hardship, protecting three hundred horses to come to Major Christopher unscathed!" ”

Colonel Scott frowned, "How is it possible not to lose a single horse?" And, seven soldiers died, but the rest of us were alive? ”

"Or else...... How many horses to kill? The beaver asked tentatively.

"You've got to get some injuries!" After Sergeant Scott finished speaking, he raised the horsewhip in his hand high, then put it back and took out the bayonet again: "Indians don't use such a thing as a horsewhip!" Don't worry, I'll be soon, you bear with me! ”

"No, Mr. Sergeant!"

The beaver hurriedly screamed.

It's one thing to be whipped, it's another thing to be stabbed.

At this moment, the beaver saw a figure on the hill, neither tall nor short, holding a musket in his hand, in his direction.

Yes?

Oh, my God!

How did he end up here?

……

The beaver recognized the man at a glance.

Although, a year has passed since the farewell of the Harrison Valley, the beaver has been thinking about that man all the time since the year has passed.

That cunning liar!

That hysterical fanatic!

The madman who stood on a stone with a musket pointed at seven or eight white soldiers, unhurriedly reloaded, and laughed wildly!

Turtle dove!

……

"Don't move! Don't move! Hands up! Hands up! The beaver screamed.

The beaver was the first to raise his hand.

Sergeant Scott was stunned by the beaver's sudden movement, and wondered what the beaver was doing.

"Mr. Sergeant, raise your hands, you're being targeted!" The beaver shouted hurriedly.

Sergeant Scott followed the beaver's gaze.

He saw the man, too.

The man was on horseback, and the thin horse beneath him was slowly and leisurely moving towards him. And the man had a musket in his hand, pointing in his direction.

"What does he want to do?" Scott took the gun in his hand, looked at it with his hand on the pergola, and said suspiciously, "Does he want to hit me from such a distance?" It's ridiculous—"

Sergeant Scott reacted immediately, and the beaver seemed to be distracting him to avoid being beaten!

"-Okay, you beaver, you wait, I'll go and clean him up and come back to you!"

When it comes to riding, Sergeant Scott doesn't lose anyone.

Back then, he was also a famous cowboy in the wasteland, but later he was tired of sleeping in the open air, and he still felt that the system was good, so he found an opportunity and successfully went ashore.

More than ten years have passed, and he has also become a sergeant, with more than a dozen soldiers hanging under his hands.

Compared to the previous wandering career, it is simply an underground and a sky.

Sergeant Scott lightly kicked the horse's belly and lifted his musket in his hand.

A true cavalryman is an elite who can shoot on a bumpy horseback, and Sergeant Scott considers himself the best of the best!

The horse neighed.

"Mr. Sergeant, he's a turtledove! Turtledove! The beaver screamed. It's the turtledove in the Harrison Valley! It's the turtledove in Acheson Hills! That turtledove in the turtledove tribe! ”

The beaver's words rang out like beads.

As the beaver's words sounded, the steed under Scott's crotch actually stood up, made a bend in mid-air, and fell back again!

Without hesitation, Scott dropped the gun in his hand and raised his hand!

Others may not know who the turtledove is, but Sergeant Scott does.

The truth about the Harrison Valley was buried in one investigation report after another, and Sergeant Scott was promoted by one rank.

But Sergeant Scott himself knew that there was once a man in the Harrison Valley, who single-handedly killed a thirteen-man slave catcher with a musket and every shot!

The destruction of the 300-man slave trade in the Acheson Heath, and the magnificences finally believe that the Tree Chief attacked them. But under Sergeant Scott's covert investigation, the result shocked him: perhaps, what those black slaves said was true!

Captain George himself went with a full infantry company to sweep the Indian tribes in the Blanca Mountains, but they were all wiped out. The battle report has not been leaked so far, but Sergeant Scott guesses that it must be the turtledove again!

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot! Own! Sergeant Scott shouted hurriedly.

"I'm Scott! Good friend of the Indians! A man of conscience at the crossroads! Believers in Christ! Quetzalcoatl's people! I have at least one-eighth Indian ancestry in my body! I love Apache! I love Navajo! I love Indian ......."

After Scott barked a few times, he whispered to the beaver, "He should be able to understand English, right?" ”

……

"Bang!"

Gunshots rang out.

From the other side, one of Scott's soldiers.

He was already very close to the turtledove, only about fifty meters away.

He was sitting on the grass resting when a turtledove's horse passed by his side. So, naturally, he stood up and fired a shot.

The thin horse under the turtledove continued unhurriedly.

He sat on horseback and didn't even move.

He just turned the muzzle of the gun in a different direction, paused for a little half a second, and pulled the trigger.

I heard a 'bang' gunshot, and the guy who was holding the revolver in his hand and rushing towards the turtledove fell to the ground.

Killed by one shot.

……

"This is Sergeant Scott, right?"

"No, I'm Sergeant Scott!" Scott raised his hands and corrected the turtledove's statement. In any case, a sergeant has a better chance of survival than a sergeant.

"Oh?" The skinny horse of the turtledove had already arrived in front of Sergeant Scott, and the barrel of the one-meter-and-a-half-meter-long gun was pressed against the sergeant's chest.

"Wait a minute! Don't get excited, man! Sergeant Scott hurriedly said, "I guess you must want these horses......"

Scott speaks pure Apache. Flicking and cocking tongue is even better than a turtledove, and if you wear a mask, he is simply an Indian among Indians!