Located on the border between Oklahoma and Texas, Chickaso was originally a valley with a small lake, known locally as 'Lake Tekosoma'.

But in the 16 years since the Migration Act was enacted, there has been a steady stream of Native Americans, most of whom call themselves Chickasso — perhaps 'Choctaw', but no one cares about that.

More and more Indians gathered here, and gradually a new name 'Chiccasso' was born.

It doesn't matter if someone really can't remember this strange name, they can use the name that the white people called: "zha species", anyway, that's what the white people call it, and the Chikasso people themselves recognize it.

……

On August 19th, the watermill and the sea got up early in the morning.

They commanded the men and tied the entire valley with the ribbons they had brought.

A simple wooden bridge was built in the uneven valley, and bells were hung on it, and when the wind blew, the bells jingled.

A few trumpeters were sent on the hills all around, and they tried their tunes high and low. The instrument made of brass and yellow flakes is crisper and louder than a bull's horn, and it sounds festive.

On a whim, the soldiers picked up the red stones in the valley and sprinkled them along the previous path, and soon a red path appeared in the valley.

"By the way, there have to be flowers!" Hai said.

This season, many of the flowers in the valley have already withered. The watermill frowned for a moment, but soon unfurled again.

The flowers in the valley were gone, but in the valley, a hundred miles away, a large patch of roses bloomed. The rose has crimson petals and is as large as a fist.

The local Chikaso people say that the flower was not originally red, but that the Indians who had migrated from other places would always pass by and sprinkle their blood and tears on the petals, so it turned red.

The watermill summoned ten fast horses and ordered them to hurry to the valley to pick flowers.

"Are the lanterns all hung up?" Hai asked.

"It's all hanged!"

"Why didn't I see it?"

"The valley is too big, and we bring too few lanterns!"

"It's not going to work!" "We must light up this valley – even during the day!" Find a way, waterwheel! ”

The watermill scratched at the beard that didn't exist on his chin, "Otherwise, I'll have to buy it from the locals - but it may be too late!" ”

"Spend money!" Haida waved his hand, "This matter is handed over to me, I'll go find them to buy it!" Let them hurry up and hang the lanterns for us! ”

Haihuo hurriedly walked away, and after a few steps, he turned back and told the waterwheel: "You hurry up and open the cage, take out the clothes inside and iron them out!" ”

……

The tinkling of the Chickaso valley had been clanging all day, and it finally stopped at nightfall.

As lanterns are lit up, the entire valley is as bright as a jewel.

The sound of horses' hooves trampling the water sounded at about 9 o'clock in the evening.

The waterwheel and the sea were the first to welcome out of the room.

"Have you started?"

"Here we go!" The knight on the horse jumped off his horse, gasping for breath, and said, "It is too dark to count how many there are, but at least two thousand have been released, and the receiving party has already rushed to meet them!" ”

"Only two thousand?" The watermill asked.

"Let's see if there's anything else in the back!" The knight said.

"Any news from Loczen?"

"Not yet!" The knight said, "Sherman is so cunning that he hides his captives far away and won't inform us of the location until he releases them!" ”

"Until, let's go rest first!" The watermill said.

The exchange of prisoners between Sherman and the Indians had already taken place many times, and with the good faith of both sides, there were no major problems.

On the one hand, the Indians needed to get back their own pro-rolls, which was something that everyone was eager to promote, so that none of the Indians wanted to make a difference;

On the other hand, Sherman also needs to bring back at least one team to save the last face for the United States.

The two sides can cooperate in the matter of prisoner exchange.

Even if they are enemies, there are common interests.

As for the fact that a sentry in Monterrey in the south closed the door of the safe passage a minute earlier, the person concerned may feel that the sky is about to fall, and from the strategic point of view of the entire prisoner exchange operation, it is nothing at all!

……

At about 3 o'clock in the morning, another knight waded in.

He brought the news of the release of another batch of captives.

In the other direction, there are about 1000 people. But there is still no news from Loczen.

Both the sea and the watermill comforted each other: "It's okay, definitely in the third round!" ”

Neither of them slept, sitting under the eaves and chatting without a word.

"Have you seen Lotzen?" Hai asked.

"I've seen it!" The watermill said.

"What kind of person is she?" Hai asked.

The watermill thought for a moment and replied, "She is very beautiful, she is a beauty." ”

"Really? But I read the newspapers......"

"That was later," said the watermill, "actually, when she first came to our tribe, she simply stunned us!" I've never seen a woman as beautiful as her! ”

"Turtledoves must love her very much, right?" Hai said.

"That's for sure!" "She loves turtledoves too," said the watermill. In this world, there should be no other person who loves her more than Turtledove, and there is no other person who loves Turtledove more than her! ”

The sea didn't know what he was thinking, he leaned against the wall and was silent, his cheeks flushed with the lantern, and the occasional laugh of eating.

The watermill glanced at her and said nothing.

Hai is only 17 years old this year, although he has walked through the mountains of corpses and the sea of blood, and has experienced a tragic death, but how can a girl of this age not be full of longing for the world and the future?

】

The watermill also remembered his Eudolan, and received a letter last month, saying that Du Juanhua was pregnant-

……

The sound of horses' hooves sounded again at about 6 o'clock in the morning.

The lanterns were not extinguished, and they waited in the valley all night.

The knight jumped down from his horse, stood in front of the watermill and the sea, which had not slept all night, took a brownish ribbon from his coat pocket, spread it out with both hands, and presented it.

"The last batch of family rolls has also been released, and our response team has made contact with them!"

"What is this?" Hai asked.

The waterwheel raised his hand and took the ribbon tremblingly, which was stained with dried blood, dirt, and other unknown things.

But the watermill recognized it, and the girl, who was as delicate as the dew on the tips of the leaves of the early morning, had such a yellow ribbon wrapped around her forehead.

Although I hadn't seen Loczen for three years, the watermill still vividly remembered how she amazed the whole mountain forest that day.

"Is that her?" The watermill asked.

"It's her!" The knight replied.

The watermill raised its head suddenly, his eyes lit up suddenly, and the smile on his face bloomed like a flower.

"Haha, let's go! Let's pick her up! ”

He put one hand around the knight's shoulder, and the other over the head of the sea.

"Let's go, let's take her home!"

The golden sun shone over the hilltops in the valley, a thin morning mist drifted above the white springs, red roses lined up on the roadside in two big 'happy' characters, and the orange-yellow cobblestone road zigzagged into the distance.

The early morning in Chikaso is as beautiful as poetry.