The appearance of Jerónimo caused a commotion in the town.

The former Indian god of war rode a horse to Chen Jianqiu's side, followed by Turtledove and his wife.

Geronimo was wounded and looked much older.

But he still maintained his upright posture and refused Chen Jianqiu, who came up and wanted to support him.

"My children." Geronimo waved at the gathered Apache people, "I'm sorry to worry everyone!" ”

At this time, he was more like a kind elder and spiritual leader than a tribal chieftain.

The clansmen below looked at the "resurrected" chief of the dead, and many of them had tears in their eyes.

They were driven out of their homes, surrounded and suppressed by the U.S. military, and displaced.

But they followed the man in front of them from beginning to end.

In the eyes of these Apaches, Jeronimo was no longer a simple tribal chieftain, but a spiritual totem.

"I asked Mr. Chen to direct this play, so that some people can show their true colors." The Great Chief took the initiative to take the matter, "I am not accusing them of betrayal, everyone has their own ambitions, but this should never be premised on hurting their fellow citizens. ”

Loczen and the people around her were silent, while the other two tribesmen looked a little frightened.

"Great Chief, these things, we" Old Marlai's "right hand" Passamacodi raised his head and wanted to say something, but was stopped by the laying of hands on Jerónimo.

"This matter is in the past, and I will not pursue it again, but you must understand that what you have done will bring disaster to everyone." He said a little tiredly.

Passamacodi certainly knew what Gironimo meant by the catastrophe.

Once those U.S. troops that Marley hooked up with come here, they don't care which tribe you are.

Wiltord's approach to the Indians has always been to eradicate the roots.

Sweat flowed down Passamakodi's forehead.

For he heard the sound of horses' hoofs coming from the direction of the valley mouth.

The Indians present were like a great enemy, and they all prepared to go back to their houses to get their weapons.

Chen Jianqiu climbed onto the roof with an arrow step.

He held up his binoculars and looked in Taniguchi's direction.

"Don't be nervous, your own people!"

After seeing the comer, Chen Jianqiu's lips hung into a smile, he put down his binoculars, jumped off the roof, and said to the nervous Apache people.

Soon, in the midst of everyone's doubts, a group of people entered the town and came to the front.

A young man, the Indian, with an automatic rifle in his hand, turned over and dismounted, and came to Geronimo and Chen Jianqiu.

"Wiltord and his army should have withdrawn." Asuka said.

Jerónimo stepped forward and gave Asuka a big hug:

"Hey, my good brother, thank you."

He put his arm around Asuka's shoulders, pulled him in front of everyone, and introduced:

"Guys, this is the hero who repelled the American troops who are ready to destroy us, he is our hero!"

Asuka was stunned.

As a shy person, this sudden appreciation made him a little overwhelmed.

He hurriedly looked at Chen Jianqiu, who was standing on the side, but found that the latter was slapping happily.

Seeing that the bird turned his gaze over, Chen Jianqiu nodded slightly at him.

The surrounding Apache people were a little dazed at first, but when the Great Chief and Chen Jianqiu both applauded, they also clapped their hands.

Everything subsided.

Klickitat died, and Old Marais was banished.

The members of the other rebellious tribes were forgiven, and the Indians gathered in the center of the town dispersed and returned to a peaceful life.

Two days later.

At the altar at the entrance of the town, only two people remained, Jeronimo and Chen Jianqiu.

Geronimo was half-kneeling by the stone heap of sacrifices, his hands flat in front of him, palms up, eyes closed, and words in his mouth.

Chen Jianqiu stood aside, quietly watching the Great Chief finish the ceremony and stand up.

It can be seen that the injuries on his body still have an effect on his movements.

"Is there any smoke?" The Great Chief asked suddenly.

"I didn't have cigarettes, I did bring a few cigars, but Teresa told me that smoking is not good for recovery."

Although Chen Jianqiu said this, he still took out a cigar from his clothes, cut off the end of the cigar, and handed it to Geronimo.

Geronimo took the cigar and put it to his lips.

Chen Jianqiu glanced him up and down: "How do I feel that you have changed a little?" ”

"Oh?" Jerónimo glanced at Chen Jianqiu, his eyes flashing with the cunning unique to the old Indian, "Where has I changed?" ”

"You seem to have let go of something." Chen Jianqiu said bluntly, "The state is much easier. ”

Jerónimo smiled:

"Is there a possibility, this is what I am."

With a cigar in one hand and a crossed waist in the other, he looked into the distance:

"I'm going to leave the tribe's affairs to Asuka."

"Oh? He wasn't from the Apache tribe. Chen Jianqiu and the Great Chief stood side by side.

"It's okay, the Apache people respect heroes with outstanding abilities, and Asuka is a valiant warrior, and I knew from the first time I met them, and there were many people here who came with them in the first place. I'll stay for a while and gradually leave things to him. ”

"I looked at him like I saw the younger me." The Great Chief took a puff of cigarette and sighed, "He has a kind heart and will lead my people into the future." ”

"What about you?" Chen Jianqiu asked.

"Me? I'm going to cross the border and go back to my hometown. Jerónimo turned his head and glanced at Chen Jianqiu meaningfully, "When people are old, they always want to go home and have a look." ”

"If you want to go, I'm afraid they will go with you if it's Luozen." Chen Jianqiu also lit a cigar for himself, lowered his head, and said in a flat tone.

"No, I told them, they have to get used to life without me." Jerónimo patted Chen Jianqiu on the shoulder, "I'm old, you just let me retire, it should be handed over to the young people, or to the young people." ”

Chen Jianqiu did not answer immediately.

Two people stood there, one holding a cigar in their mouths, knowing each other.

The Great Chief had long understood that perhaps this was the best place for his clan.

After a long time, Chen Jianqiu spoke, and said slowly:

"Trust Asuka, he's a nice young man."

Chen Jianqiu left Asuka and Jerónimo to deal with the affairs of the Apache town in the Juarez Valley.

According to his plan, Apache and even other Indians who did not want to be oppressed would come here in the future.

"You were a chieftain, and you are still a chieftain, a true chief of the great Indians."

When parting, Chen Jianqiu said to the bird.

Together with Abiot, he returned to Juárez with his troops.

"Boss, what about Wiltord and those border guards of him? I think they took the initiative to provoke this time, and although they suffered a dumb loss, they should not give up. ”

In his office at the Juárez City Hall, Abiot said to Chen Jianqiu.

Chen Jianqiu was checking the summary table of his factory's import and export trade at the Juarez port, and raised his head when he heard Abiot say this:

"Wiltord? What kind of thing is he? ”

After the Civil War, and especially after the widespread resistance of the Indians disappeared, the position of the US Federal Army deteriorated.

In the past few decades, economic development has been the main keynote, and the best talents in the United States have gone to business to make money, develop and build.

They exploited and consumed natural resources such as mines, forests, land, and rivers in the west at the fastest rate.

Soldier? What kind of soldier to be?

Moreover, since there are no votes in the regular army, politicians do not think of this group.

Members of Congress have repeatedly called for continued disarmament and cuts in the Army's military spending.

If it was ten years ago, when Crook was there, Chen Jianqiu would still take a look; But now this Wiltord is not even qualified to be his opponent.

Abiot quietly waited for Chen Jianqiu's order.

Chen Jianqiu continued to lower his head and flipped through the report.

"I have a way to clean them up." He didn't raise his head and said, "These people who can't recognize their location after they are full will starve them for a few days first, and then talk about the back." ”

When Wiltord returned to his barracks, he had a big fight with Burke.

He accused the latter of dragging him back all the time.

If Burke hadn't returned with the infantry in advance, the victory or defeat would still be unknown, and Geronimo's body might have been sent as trophies on the way to Washington.

Burke never had any objections to his superiors before, and even if he disagreed, he would choose to execute and obey first.

But this time, he didn't get used to the brainless chief in front of him.

"There are countless casualties in cross-border attacks, please go and explain to the army headquarters and the families of those casualties yourself." Burke said coldly.

Wiltord was choked so that he couldn't say a word.

He knew that Burke's words were right.

If you win, you can also send a telegram to the army headquarters to support them.

Now that he has lost, not only is he not reasonable, but those old men at the headquarters may have to masturbate him first.

Toltord was deflated.

He had nothing else to do except lock himself in the command room of the fortress all day to study how to target Chen Jianqiu.

At noon on that day, Wiltord was in the house gazing at the map hanging on the wall.

Suddenly, he heard a noise outside, as if someone was arguing in the barracks, and the sound was not small.

This made the colonel very irritable.

He threw away the pen in his hand, opened the door of his room, and stood in the doorway with his waist crossed.

He saw that in the center of the barracks, in the small shed where meals were usually distributed, a group of emotional soldiers were gathered around the shed.

They waved their fists as if to say something.

Wiltord walked over with a frown:

"What? So noisy? ”

Behind the crowd, the colonel asked in a deep voice with his hands behind his back.

The soldiers, finding out that their commander was coming, shut up one after another.

There was a separate path between them.

With his hands behind his back, Wiltord slowly swung in along the path that the soldiers had moved out of the way.

His leather boots creaked on the ground, and as he walked, he looked left and right at the soldiers.

Wiltord noticed that the soldiers were also looking at him with blank faces.

He walked to the front of the shed and found the quartermaster in charge of distributing the food looking at him nervously.

"What happened?" The colonel asked.

Before the quartermaster could speak, a soldier next to him answered directly for him:

"Sir, we used to eat only two meals a day, but now at noon this meal has to deduct our rations, there used to be two pieces of bread, but now there is only one, and it is smaller than before, how can the brothers live?"

The soldier angrily threw the piece of bread in his hand, which was less than half the size of his palm, on the wooden table.

When Wiltord saw this, he was immediately angry.

He slammed the table, startling the quartermaster.

"What the hell is going on?" The Colonel exclaimed, "How can there be such a thing as a food withholding in my ranks? ”

In his ranks, there are arrears of military salaries, but not so much that even the soldiers' rations have to be deducted.

Someone must have embezzled,

Wiltord's anger reached its peak in an instant.

He pulled out the revolver on his waist and pointed it at the quartermaster: "Tell me quickly, what's going on, who gave you the guts to do anything to the military rations?" ”

The quartermaster was so frightened that he almost peed his pants.

"Sir, really, I didn't do it, yes, it was the quartermaster who told me to do it."

"What about others?" Wiltord asked nonchalantly.

"Over there in the warehouse." The quartermaster did not dare to slack off at all, and hurriedly replied.

Wiltord didn't care about the soldiers around him, took his revolver and walked briskly in the direction of the warehouse.

The door to the warehouse was hidden.

The colonel pushed the door open and found the quartermaster inside, counting the supplies inside with a sad face.

Seeing the Colonel push the door open, he immediately stood up straight and gave a military salute to Wiltord.

"Sir, why are you here?" The quartermaster caught a glimpse of the revolver in the colonel's hand and was a little nervous for no reason.

"Jackson, I need an explanation!" Wiltord's fingers roamed near the trigger of the revolver and asked coldly, "Why reduce the soldier's rations?" ”

As soon as he heard the commander's words, the quartermaster's face became even more bitter.

He pointed to the corner of the warehouse, where the few bags of flour were piled up.

"Sir, our inventory is here, if we don't save some of it, I'm afraid it won't last a few days." He shrugged.

Wiltord's eyeballs almost fell out of their sockets.

The quartermaster didn't say that he hadn't noticed, and the warehouse, which had been full, didn't know when it had become empty.

"If you don't have it, go to the nearest train station to transport it! Isn't there regular shipments of flour and other supplies?" The colonel asked, "Just leave the military district!" ”

"This group of people who went to transport grain just came back yesterday." The quartermaster pointed to the empty flatbed trucks outside the warehouse and said, "The station is closed, and the train doesn't stop there." ”

He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Wiltord.

The colonel opened it and took a look.

Here's a sign posted on the wall of the station:

Due to the adjustment of the route plan, this station will be closed, I wish you a happy life.

The payment was made by the "Santa Fe Railroad Company".

Are the current railway companies so capricious?

The colonel was eager to shred the paper.

Their barracks located on the border line, and all their supplies were transported from this nearest railway station, so wouldn't it cost him his life.

"Did the military region say what to do?"

When Wiltord said this, he felt stupid.

The train station is closed, and the natural telegraph station is closed together, where can I go to contact the Arizona Military District.

"I have a solution." The quartermaster suddenly remembered something.

"You say."

The colonel was a little irritable.

"We can go to the nearest town and buy it ourselves, a little farther away, but it's better than starving here." Said the quartermaster.

Wiltord's teeth hurt.

Because the nearest town from here is called Roswell.

(End of chapter)