Indians do not have a strict name code, and their names are more casual and diverse.

Some people have names that are inexplicable and can't even bear to look at them directly, and some people have dozens or even more names in their lifetime.

Other civilizations often went through similar phases, and mature and standardized name systems generally appeared in feudal societies and even later.

Many Indians are born with a nickname by their parents, a nickname when they grow up, a formal name when they become adults, a name that represents honor for their military exploits, and a name with religious connotations even for a mysterious dream......

There is also the ancestral name, the father can pass the name to the son, after death can bequeath, when he is alive, he can also give it now, of course, if the father gives the name to the son when he is alive, he must take a new name.

"Little Whistle" is the nickname given to the horse whistle by the clan, because his father's nickname is "Big Whistle".

There is no special meaning, that is, because Daddy Whistle is naturally good at whistling, the whistle is huge, high-pitched and loud, and when he whistles, he can call his own war horse from afar, so it later evolved into a "horse whistle".

Ma Whistle inherited his father's name and inherited his father's talent, and he was also very good at whistling, so he was naturally a small whistle.

That's what the people generally call him.

"I escaped from the camp when the whites attacked." Ma Whistle said.

The young man hurriedly asked, "Is there anyone else with you?" ”

"It should ...... No. Ma Whistle thought back for a moment, he hadn't digested the memories left by this body, "I was the last to escape, and some of the clansmen also ran away, but they didn't come with me." ”

The young man was silent for a while.

Then he remembered something, and looked up and down the horse whistle: "Where did you get this clothes, and this gun?" ”

"There was a white man who chased me and fell down, and then I grabbed a gun on the ground and shot him," the whistle explained. ”

Thick shoulders pointed diagonally behind him and said, "You killed the white man who was stripped of his coat over there?" ”

The horse whistle nodded.

Thick Shoulders smiled: "Although it was a fluke, you are also very brave, just like your father." ”

"Let's go back to camp first." So saying, he stretched out his hand, pulled the horse's whistle onto the horse's back, and then turned the horse's head and went to the camp.

"How does it feel to shoot?" Thick shoulders looked at the Kentucky rifle in the hand of the horse sentry.

"Okay...... It's that it hurts more when you shoot. Ma Whistle couldn't find an Apache word suitable for translating recoil, so he could only describe it this way.

Thick shoulders nodded: "Yes, but it's not really the main problem. I've also gotten a Mexican gun before, but unfortunately it broke after a few uses, it was too cumbersome to load, or a bow and axe were more convenient. ”

The horse whistle did not speak.

In this era, there are still many shortcomings in firearms, and the mixing of hot and cold weapons is the norm, not to mention the Indians, whites often have to fight a bayonet or something on the battlefield.

Some Indians have learned to use firearms, but they have not yet become widely used, at least the Sleeping Bear clan to which he belongs still uses cold weapons such as bows and arrows and battle axes as their main weapons.

Occasionally, firearms captured in battle are either used as collectibles, destroyed due to improper use, or unusable for long-term use due to lack of ammunition and maintenance.

In the opinion of the horse whistle, the real power of the rifle should be counted from the Prussian Dresser needle pistol.

The Dresser pistol was officially introduced in 1841, and he had estimated that the current time was the early forties of the nineteenth century, and Prussia must have studied it almost and even began to equip it.

Of course, although the Kentucky rifle in his hand had a lot of shortcomings compared to the powerful automatic rifles of later generations, he still regarded it as a treasure.

At greater distance, this thing is much stronger than throwing axes and bows and arrows.

After a while, the horse whistle and the thick shoulders rode back to the camp.

There was a mess of objects, traces of destruction and devastation scattered around the camp, and dozens of brutally scalped corpses lay on the ground.

The tribesmen were devastated, and many were weeping as they lay down beside the corpses while drawing a pattern on their faces with black paint, symbolizing the loss of their loved ones.

A huge loss.

After all, there are only one hundred and twenty or thirty people in the Sleeping Bear Clan, and after this battle, most of the women and children in the clan have been lost, which can almost be described as a state of "quasi-annihilation".

Ma Whistle couldn't help but clench his fists, and his breathing was a little rapid.

In fact, the personality of the old owner of this body has not disappeared, but has merged with the personality from the twenty-first century.

Of course, compared with a systematically educated youth from the age of information explosion, the spiritual world of a nine-year-old Indian child is too thin, so after the fusion of the two, the old personality is greatly diluted.

But that doesn't mean that today's horse whistles don't have a trace of affection for the clan.

At least at this moment, looking at the dozens of corpses of relatives and friends lying on the ground, and listening to the painful cries that filled the air, his emotions were very shaken.

"The North American slave owners gang must be destroyed!" The two personalities found a point of convergence, and Ma Whistle felt that his spiritual world was instantly smoothed out, as if a certain fusion process had finally been completed.

"What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing." Ma Whistle reacted, he just spoke Chinese or Sichuan.

Thick Shoulders was unimpressed, and after a moment of silence, he said, "The chief and the shaman are discussing a way out. ”

"A way out?"

"We may defect to other brother clans, only then can we multiply." Thick Shoulders sighed, "We have almost no women and children left. ”

If this is done, the name Sleeping Bear Clan will disappear, and the people will become part of the other clans, which is a sad choice, although it is better than biological extinction.

Ma Whistle didn't feel much about this, if the Indians wanted to rise, they naturally couldn't stick to a small sleeping bear clan, or even the Apache clan, and they definitely had to carry out a series of big fusions.

Only by uniting all the indigenous peoples of the Americas will it be possible to break the rule of the Western colonizers.

No way, the foundation of the aborigines is too weak. Compared with the Indians, the late Qing Dynasty can be called the beginning of the king: hundreds of millions of people with a high degree of cultural unity, governments at all levels that are corrupt and rigid but at least functional, and the agricultural foundation laid for thousands of years, although backward, can at least eat the science and technology of the West......

This kind of huge ancient civilization that has been tempered thousands of times, as long as someone can reorganize a strong and efficient central government, even if the technology is backward, there is no need to fear any invaders on the earth, and can even fight back.

The Indians, on the other hand, were a fragmentary stonepunk society, with backward productive forces, backward social organization, science and technology, a plummeting population, a large number of internal contradictions, and countless tribes, all of which did not agree with each other.

Even if we could unite all the Indians, if we wanted to rise in the Americas, I am afraid that there would be only one hope.

In the midst of the horse's reverie, a middle-aged man with long hair and a shawl and a gray robe walked by, wearing tassels, beaded strings, and five feathers on his head, and his prestige was very high.

In fact, he is the shaman priest of the Sleeping Bear Clan, the Stone Crow.

"Follow me to the chief." The crow was expressionless, beckoned to the horse whistle, and then turned away.