With the accumulation of age and skills, the whistle of the horse whistle became louder and louder, as if there was a momentum of soaring into the sky, resounding on the grassland.

"Ulla!" Two hundred pistols shouted in unison, and at the same time collectively launched a high-speed charge, galloping towards the Arapahoe people on the opposite side.

Armed with an iron shield in one hand and a revolver in the other, the horse sentry charged at the front of the line.

His war horse Black Blade also put on some armor, plus the various items he carried, the weight was not light, but with the strength of Black Blade, it was easy.

The horse sentry took the lead, and two hundred pistols lined up in a horizontal formation and surged away amid the fearless cry of "Ula".

With such momentum, the eight hundred clansmen behind him were stunned, and they didn't know how to react for a while.

"Charge, charge!" The war chieftain of the Mescarero tribe was the first to react and beckoned his men to charge.

However, compared to the heavily trained pistol units, their charge was really a bit sloppy, loose, and almost no formation to speak of.

By the time the 800 tribesmen in the rear charged, the pistol unit led by the horse sentry had already approached the Arapaho, and the distance between the two sides was reduced to 100 meters.

"Ulla! Ulla! Ulla! The shouts of the pistols rose higher and higher.

The momentum of their charge and the clan were dumbfounded, not to mention the impact felt by the Arapho people, who were enemies.

Horses are not fools, and people are not even more.

Seeing that a wall of cavalry on the opposite side was crashing into the sea at a speed much higher than their own, the first reaction of many Alapaho people was to turn their horses' heads.

With this U-turn, the formation of the Arapaho people was immediately chaotic, although they had no formation to speak of.

Seeing that there was confusion in the enemy's formation, the horse sentry immediately pulled the trigger and fired the first shot.

"Bang!"

An Arapahoe man fell off his horse.

"Bang bang bang!" The pistols also pulled the trigger, and in less than ten seconds, each fired two or three shots.

Suddenly, the Arapajo felt an unprecedented density of firepower, and screams rang out one after another.

"Ahh

"What's going on!"

"What is that short gun, how-" The Arapahoe man who spoke abruptly stopped, a lead bullet piercing his neck, blood spurting out.

For the first time, the design wisdom of Samuel Colt, a master of firearms, was unreservedly revealed in front of the world, and countless blood bloomed for it.

The fierce charge and dense fire tore apart the formation of the Arapaho in the blink of an eye.

With the rapid death of hundreds of Arapahoe, the horse sentry led two hundred men directly through the enemy's large force, like a sharp blade cutting through the mud.

Although Ma Sentry always believed that his pistol unit had strong combat effectiveness, he did not expect to be able to fight so smoothly.

After a momentary distraction, the horse's whistle whistled again, first ordering the troops to turn around, and then charging again from behind the Arapaho.

They charged from behind, and the other eight hundred tribesmen had already killed at this time, and the two sides could form a circle.

For a time, the Apache formed a hammer anvil against the Arapahoe, fiercely flanking them.

What happened next was without any surprises.

The Arapajo had never had such an experience, starting the battle in less than ten seconds, their morale and formation were completely broken, and then they had to face an encirclement of a thousand enemies with almost no damage.

They don't have any chance to resist, they are like fish on a chopping board, to be slaughtered.

After a few minutes, the majority of the remaining Arapahoe had to surrender, lay down their arms, and lay on the ground.

There were also some Arapahoes who fled, fleeing on their horses in a desperate direction, with more or less pursuing Apache behind them.

The horse sentry was chasing an enemy who wore a war crown and was either a great chief or a war chief, and he certainly didn't want to let it go.

However, the man had run quite a distance, and seeing that he could not catch up, he immediately took a Kentucky rifle, aimed the slender barrel in front of him, and then pulled the trigger.

"Bang!"

As a rifled rifle that turned the tide of war by sniping British generals during the American Revolutionary War, the Kentucky rifle was almost the equivalent of the sniper rifle of this era, with a long range and high accuracy.

Of course, it was mostly a matter of luck, at least for the horse whistle, who hardly ever used the gun.

Fortunately, the shot was lucky, and after a single shot, the Arapahoe man with the crown on his head quickly fell down with his horse and fell on the grassland.

The horse sentry reattached the rifle to the Black Blade and rushed over with the revolver.

When they arrived at the place, they saw that the Arapaho and the war horse were all lying to the ground, unable to move, and the blood that was still flowing formed a pool of blood on the grass next to it.

However, the horse whistle quickly sensed that something was wrong, and the blood was clearly flowing from the belly of the war horse!

And almost at the same time, the Arapahoe, who had just fallen to the ground motionless, suddenly shouted angrily, holding a snow-bright dagger, and stabbed the horse whistle door!

The horse whistle hurriedly dodged, but still did not completely dodge, and there was a cut on his arm, and blood oozed out.

He gasped as he grabbed his opponent's wrist with his backhand and twisted it hard.

"Ahhh The Arapahoe screamed, and the dagger fell in response, and was kicked aside by the horse's whistle.

He was about to struggle, and his fist slammed into the horse, but before the fist could touch anyone, the horse's knee slammed him in the stomach.

"Ahh He screamed again, and collapsed to the ground in pain.

The horse sentry looked around, treated the wound on his arm briefly, and then tied up the Arapahoe and rode back.

On the way back, the Arapahoe man recovered a little, cursing incessantly, and the horse whistle did not understand the Arapahoe language, so he did not know what he was saying.

The Arapaho knew some Apache language, and when he saw this, he immediately said in a jerky Apache language: "Despicable Apaches, what evil spells have you used! ”

The horse whistle looked at him seriously.

This person is about thirty-four or five years old, and his figure is quite strong, but his appearance is not characteristic, if it is not for the eagle feather crown on his head, it is really difficult to recognize from the crowd.

"If you lose, someone else used an evil spell, and it seems that your previous victory was just a fluke." Ma Whistle sarcastically said.

"You ......" The other party's face suddenly turned red and he couldn't speak.

He really couldn't accept the outcome of this battle, the once mighty Arapahoe was now crushed by the Apaches, and two hundred Apaches to be exact.

Even against the most elite white armies, the Arapahoe had never suffered such outrageous defeats. So in his worldview, there is no reason other than witchcraft that can be explained.