"Boom!" However, the north gate was also fired.

The south gate is not good, the north gate is not good, there is no gate on the west side, and the east gate is ......

They originally felt that the east gate seemed to have some hope, although there were also enemies guarding it, but at least they didn't have to be shot.

"Huh-" But at this moment, with a neighing of horses, dozens of cavalry galloped in.

Their leader was as tall as a giant, and his horse under his crotch was like a beast of prey, which was formidable.

The arrival of sixty cavalrymen immediately crushed the white man on both a physical and psychological level.

"Bang bang bang—" The dense bullets swept towards the whites who were still resisting.

In John Sartre's philosophy, there is no doubt that he himself was a hardworking man. Despite his enviable wealth and power, he was able to get up at seven or eight o'clock every day without anyone calling him.

The bad thing is that today he met someone who is more diligent than him.

To make matters worse, these people still seem to be his enemies.

"Boom-" The sudden sound of gunfire and cannon fire in the early morning woke John Sutter from his sleep.

In addition to the sound of gunfire, there were also screams, some of which he could even identify who belonged to them.

Sartre hurriedly got up from the bed, a layer of cold sweat oozing from the top of his bare head.

What's going on, is someone attacking Fort Sutter?

Who is the intruder?

Is it American?

"Mr. Sutter, the Indians have captured the tower!" Reading rushed into the room, answering the question in his mind.

"Indians?" Sartre blurted out, "It's impossible, the Indians in California don't even have guns!" Could it be that the Indians in the fort rebelled? ”

"Indians indeed, outside." Redding panted and was a little panicked, "The Maidu of the Wild Duck Clan. ”

"Maidhu? Those cowardly builders? Sartre was still in disbelief, but the sound of gunfire forced him to get dressed quickly.

Redding: "Yes, Maidhu...... I don't know why, anyway, they suddenly took out their weapons out of nowhere and quickly occupied the tower, like a herd of sheep suddenly turned into a pack of wolves! ”

Sartre: "How many of them are there?" ”

"About two dozen people." "But they are very strong in combat, at least the soldiers guarding the two towers are no match at all, and there seem to be men of theirs outside the city." Mr. Sartre, we need to get out of here! ”

"Let's go!" Sartre, who was dressed, picked up a handful of brown basses and rushed out of the door.

"Boom!" As soon as he got out, a cannonball fell from the tower to the north gate of the fort, blasting the soldiers there and several residents who tried to escape from it to pieces.

Shocked and angry, Sartre turned his head to look at the south gate, and found that several broken corpses were already lying there.

At the east gate, there were about ten Indians, shooting around with revolvers, so that his soldiers hardly dared to show their heads.

At the same time, dozens of Indian cavalry rushed in from the east gate, each of them carrying a rifle and a revolver in his hand, and the fire was even more ferocious.

As the cavalry arrived, the sound of gunfire gradually changed to bursts of less proficient English and Spanish.

"Lay down your arms!"

"Hands up!"

"Surrender or kill!"

As these shouts continued, the gunfire became more and more scarce, and the soldiers and residents of Fort Sutter, realizing that defeat was assured, chose to surrender one after another.

More than 100 people gathered in an open space one after another, raising their hands and looking terrified.

"Mr. Sartre, come here!" A white woman in the crowd beckoned.

Seeing that there was no hope of resistance and that it was impossible to escape, Sartre had to lay down his weapon and burrow into the crowd of surrenderers, looking around nervously.

"If they keep their word, we shouldn't be in danger of losing our lives." Reading said apprehensively.

"Will the Indians keep their word?" Sartre spoke, and his body trembled with nervousness.

He didn't know if these Indians would keep their word.

But he had a hard time believing that the Indians would let him go, after all, he knew very well what he had done to the Indians.

God willing......

At this time, Sartre could only pray to God.

The battle is over.

All those who survived chose to surrender, or rather, all those who chose to surrender survived.

More than a hundred whites gathered, and the slaves in the fortress were freed, standing in groups of threes and twos, pointing at them.

Some slaves had a good relationship with their slave owners, even much better than that between workers and capitalists.

But this was clearly not the case with many slaves at Sutterburg.

They were almost the most brutal slaves, many in ragged clothes, with yellow faces and some wounded.

So when they were free, they almost wanted to eat these white slave owners in front of them.

"He was the one who killed my mother! I want his life! One of the Miwalkers spoke in an agitated tone, holding a stone and about to smash it at the slave owner.

"Stop." The Apache soldier next to him immediately stopped him.

"Why, can't I avenge my mother?"

"The Apache law will judge him for his sins, and it is forbidden for anyone to lynching."

The sight of the soldiers restraining not only the whites, but also the slaves, amazed many of them.

"These Indians seem to be different...... said a chubby white farmer, with a somewhat nasal voice.

"What?" It was Samuel Brannan who spoke, and today's experience made him annoyed and anxious, and he couldn't help but get angry, "Córdoba, you slurred mouth! Falk Squid! ”

The white farmer, known as Córdoba, was apparently good-natured: "I mean, I think they're going to keep their word and not kill us." ”

Brannan continued to scold: "Credit? If the liquidated damages are greater than the income, the credit will be abandoned, and if the liquidated damages are less than the income, the credit will be abandoned, and the credit is a piece of! ”

"Brannan, calm down...... The Indian soldier is watching you. Córdoba said.

Brannan glanced at him, and saw that there was indeed an Indian soldier watching him, and he couldn't help but take a deep breath to calm the confusion.

"Quiet!" A hearty voice quickly silenced the still somewhat chaotic scene.

Everyone looked at the person who made the voice, a young Indian on a black war horse, with a burly figure that was unusually human.

He wore nine eagle feathers on his head, and his already astonishing size, combined with his equally amazing size warhorse, allowed him to look down on everyone condescendingly.

"Nine Eagle Feathers......" Some people seem to have thought of something.

"Now, this fort belongs to the Apaches. All will go to the Promised Land in accordance with the laws of the Apaches. ”

"Who is John Sutter?" He asked.

(End of chapter)