xymnovel Chapter 31 The Unknown Native Americans
Chapter 31 The Unknown Native Americans
"Stop right there—!!!"
Tom's roar almost tore his throat apart, rolling across the wasteland like thunder!
Ahead, a wild mare, as strong as a steel cane in the wilderness, was swishing her spiky mane as she ran at a leisurely pace, exuding an air of disdain for all living beings.
Behind it, a strong blue mule, as big as a horse, was chasing after it, kicking up clouds of dust, its eyes practically glued to the tip of its tail!
Further behind, a thin figure of about fifteen or sixteen years old was running frantically, his legs thrashing about as if they were about to cramp, looking exactly like someone being brutally crushed by fate.
If a zoologist saw these three, they would probably use some pretentious phrases like "miracle of life" or "primitive instinct."
But if Tom heard that, he'd be furious: "A miracle? Miracle my ass! All my possessions are on that rutting mule! If I don't chase it, am I supposed to starve to death?!"
Huff... Huff...
Just as Tom felt his heart was about to explode, the blue figure running ahead suddenly stopped!
"Ha! Ha...ha...!" Tom stumbled, nearly falling flat on his face. He quickly braced himself on his knees, his back bent like a boiled shrimp, his lungs gurgling like bellows. "You...you...you...you damn...stupid...stupid..."
"Ah—!"
The loach didn't hear it at all, or if it did, it treated it like a fart. With a light leap, the wild mare's hoof, which had just stopped, sprang forward again as if it had springs in it!
"You...are...stupid...!!!" Tom's vision went black, and the desperate roar just burst out of his throat.
The next second, his raised gaze, blurred by sweat and anger, suddenly collided with a surging, shimmering expanse of light!
water!
A great river!
Tom's Adam's apple bobbed wildly, his chapped lips trembled, and a torrent of ecstasy instantly washed away all his fatigue and curses!
"Mudfish! You're the best!!!" He unleashed his primal power, pouncing like a hungry tiger on the stupid mule that was kicking and trying to rush into the river!
With his hands gripping the mule's neck tightly, Tom practically dangled from the mudfish, gritting his teeth and roaring, "Screw your water play! Take my gun and rations off me first! If you break them, I'll eat mule meat sandwiches tonight!"
He hurriedly untied the saddle and reins, along with the coarse cloth bag hanging on them, which contained hard, rock-hard dry rations and dried meat, as well as a spear and an iron pot.
They dumped it all on the dry ground far from the riverbank.
After doing all this, Tom was completely exhausted and collapsed onto the scorching sand, his chest heaving violently like a fish out of water.
"Get lost! Play as long as you want! I'd rather you drown, you bastard! I'll walk back myself!" He cursed weakly at the sky, too lazy to even lift his eyelids.
Along the shimmering riverbank, a bizarre yet somewhat tragic scene is unfolding:
Covered in mud, looking like a mudskipper just pulled from a swamp, it cautiously circled around the glossy-coated, dignified wild mare.
The mare gave him a cold look, and the loach immediately backed away, looking meek and submissive.
But as soon as that proud head turned away, this thing sneakily took a few steps closer, its hooves lightly raised and lowered.
This "simp" attitude is portrayed so vividly!
Tom glanced at this "interspecies melodrama" out of the corner of his eye, knowing perfectly well: it's hopeless!
A male mule mating with a wild mare? And expecting to have a foal? God has already welded that door shut!
The loach's dramatic, cross-species unrequited love was doomed from the start; aside from being dumped and left bruised and battered, it wouldn't even get a hair on the horse's head!
On the riverbank, Tom, soaking wet, stared longingly at the pot of boiling water on the campfire, which was still hissing and steaming.
"It's so hard to even get a sip of cool water..." He leaned against a crooked tree. In this godforsaken place, even getting a sip of water had become a luxury!
He thought of the immigrant caravan, of his parents, Elsa, and John!
So you've started missing them?
When we set off again, the water bag was full and hung heavily on my waist.
Tom pulled on the reins of the mudskipper, his voice so cold it was icy:
"Mudskipper, if you keep running off to the southwest with that wild horse, I'll really leave you here to feed the wolves! Go on your own!"
He knew perfectly well that the direction they were heading was completely opposite to his goal of going to Oregon in the Northwest!
If we delay any longer, we'll really get separated from our parents in this endless wilderness!
Not to mention, that stupid mule has been chasing after that wild mare for days!
Just as Tom gritted his teeth, preparing to give the mudfish an ultimatum.
"Swish, swish..."
A very faint rustling sound of grass blades shattered the silence of the wilderness in an instant!
Tom's reaction time is lightning fast!
He rolled off the mule's back with a tumble, and the Winchester lance was already cocked with a "clack," its cold muzzle flashing towards the source of the sound!
At the edge of the field of vision, several figures silently emerged from the shadows of the bushes.
Wild man?
With bronze skin, his face painted with dark red mud, carrying a rough longbow on his back, and holding a gleaming longsword and a heavy battle axe in his hands, he was an Indian!
Tom's finger was firmly on the trigger, the muzzle of the gun locked on the other man, his eyes filled with composure.
Surprisingly, the wild mare, who had always been aloof and indifferent to everyone, merely flicked her tail and snorted when she saw these Native Americans. She neither panicked and fled nor showed any sign of friendliness.
It's like we know each other, but we're not close?
Interesting! Tom narrowed his eyes.
What happened next was something he hadn't expected: the wild horse turned its head and slowly strolled away a few steps, clearly trying to distance itself from the group of people!
What's going on?
But the gazes of those Native Americans were like poisoned knives, all fixed on Tom!
"Whoosh!" "Whoosh!"
Two rough but menacing longbows were instantly drawn to their full extent!
The barbed arrowheads gleamed with a deadly cold light under the blazing sun, pointed straight at Tom's chest!
Although I know that Native Americans have been driven to a terrible state by white people, how come they are killed as soon as they meet?
"Click!" Tom pulled the bolt back sharply, and the dark muzzle rose up without hesitation, aiming directly at the lead archer!
His movements were clean and swift, exuding a chilling aura!
This sudden and forceful counterattack instantly enraged the Native American warriors!
The veins on his fingers were bulging as he drew the bow, and it looked like he was about to release the string at any moment!
At the critical moment!
"@#￥%!!!" A hoarse yet extremely penetrating roar, like a thunderclap, rang out from behind the crowd!
The menacing Native American warriors froze, their taut bowstrings visibly loosening, and their arrows drooping slightly towards the ground.
It seemed like some important person was visiting, which made everyone very curious!
The crowd parted like a redwood cleaved by a knife, and an old man, dressed in an old deerskin robe and with wrinkles on his face as if carved by a knife and axe, slowly walked out, leaning on a well-worn wooden cane.
Unlike those soldiers, he had nothing in his hands!