xymnovel Chapter 144 Fierce Attack on Golden Creek Valley
Chapter 144 Fierce Attack on Golden Creek Valley
Chapter 144 Fierce Attack on Golden Creek Valley
Coastal Mountains, inside a California Salvation Army camp.
Joseph Hook poured the last half bottle of whiskey into his mouth, then threw the bottle aside and looked at his men.
After two months of development, the California Salvation Army has grown to a size of a thousand people.
He absorbed white people who had fled from Napa, San Jose, Sacramento, and other settlements, in addition to the original town's residents, but this also created problems.
There isn't enough food.
Even if people are sent out hunting every day, the food consumed by people and horses cannot keep up with the rate of consumption.
Hook had sent men to rob the Qing people's grain transport wagons before, but for some reason, the other side seemed to know his thoughts, and each time he returned empty-handed.
Forced into a corner, he finally devised this plan to attack the Napa Valley Chinese camp.
"Set off!"
A total of 500 California Salvation Army militiamen stormed out of the camp.
Martin and Paul stood by the wooden stakes inside the camp gate. As the last soldier at the end of the column disappeared from their sight, Martin glanced down at his pocket watch.
9:40 a.m.
Jinxi Valley.
The night was deep, and the moonlight was like water.
Hook rode a chestnut horse, wearing a dark blue cavalry cloak. Behind him, five hundred California Salvation Army soldiers, also on horseback, advanced swiftly into the valley in several columns.
They made no attempt to conceal their movements, and the commotion of five hundred cavalrymen running on the road was impossible to hide.
Hooker's idea was simple: a quick victory.
After seizing enough food and ammunition, they broke up into smaller groups and used the mobility of their cavalry to retreat directly. By the time Qing reinforcements arrived, they had already returned to their camp to celebrate.
The intelligence provided by Martin and Paul clearly stated that the Qing people had an armory and a granary in Napa Valley, responsible for supplying all their occupied territories in the northern part of the Coast Mountains.
The garrison inside the valley numbered no more than fifty men.
They brought 500 men this time. Even if the enemy had breech-loading guns, they couldn't withstand ten times that number of troops surging in from all sides.
After riding for a while longer, the group finally spotted their destination.
Brannan Estate, North of Napa Valley.
The fortress sits on a gentle slope, backed by a mountain ridge, protected from the cold winds from the valley floor.
A thick wooden fence, made of tightly packed, sharpened logs, covered dozens of acres of land. Outside the fence were countless sharp barricades, clearly intended to effectively delay the charge of cavalry.
This property originally belonged to Samuel Brannan, a California millionaire and senator, but it was looted a few months ago and has since been abandoned.
Several months later, this place was chosen by the Qing people as a stronghold.
"Speed up, charge!"
Hook took a deep breath, took the lead, and lashed his horse's rump with his whip. The horse, in pain, quickly set off and galloped away.
Hundreds of horses trampled the ground at the same time, creating a sound like thunder.
"Enemy attack!"
The moment they heard the sound of horses' hooves, the patrolling Qing soldiers sounded the alarm, accompanied by panicked shouts.
"Speed up, crush them!"
Five hundred people surged out of the darkness and rushed toward the manor like a tide.
The soldiers in the front rank threw several explosive charges from their horses, blasting a gap in the wooden fence. Hook laughed loudly and led his men straight through the gap in the fence.
Seeing that the first layer of defense had been breached so quickly, the Qing soldiers on guard outside had no intention of resisting and hurriedly fled into the stone fortress, closing the gates tightly.
"Leave a hundred men to guard the fortress and prevent those inside from escaping. The rest of you, hurry and move the food and gunpowder!"
Hook dismounted and strode towards two warehouses not far from the fortress. According to intelligence, weapons and food were stored there.
The warehouse door was locked with a heavy iron lock. Someone took out a hand axe from his waist and chopped at it a few times, leaving only a few dents in the lock.
After several people took turns hacking away for a while, the chains finally broke. The group hurriedly pushed the door open, and the heavy wooden door creaked and groaned.
Dozens of wooden crates were neatly stacked in the warehouse, arranged with meticulous care.
Hook crouched down, pulled out a dagger, and pried open the nearest box.
Wheat straw.
He reached out and pushed aside the wheat stalks.
Beneath the straw were gravel and soil, but no trace of guns, bullets, or gunpowder.
Hook's heart sank. He abruptly stood up, took a few steps to the box next to him, and pried open another lid with his dagger.
Wheat straw, gravel, and soil.
The third: wheat straw, gravel, and soil.
Fourth: wheat straw, gravel, and soil.
Each one was filled with sand and gravel, with a thin layer of straw on top.
"Colonel!"
The adjutant rushed in from the direction of another warehouse, his face pale: "Those grain sacks are full of sand, there's no grain!"
Hook's pupils contracted sharply, and he muttered, "Impossible! What on earth is going on?!"
"Could there be a mole who leaked the information, Colonel? We shouldn't have taken in those people who escaped from Sacramento!"
"What do you mean? Are you saying that we, the people who escaped from Sacramento, are traitors?!"
"I didn't say that! But the ones who took Sacramento were white, and they were fighting under the banner of the Qing Dynasty! Who knows, maybe one of you infiltrated their ranks!"
"Bullshit, if he were a white mole, he would have infiltrated a long time ago. Who knows, it might even be one of you!"
"Who the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm talking to you, so what?"
The California National Salvation Army soldiers began blaming each other, the argument grew louder, some were pushing and shoving, some were clenching their fists, and the tension was palpable.
But soon, they lost interest in arguing.
Because the sky brightened.
tom!tom!tom!
With a few cannon shots, several blinding white lights suddenly appeared in the sky, like miniature suns hanging high in the night sky, illuminating the valley as if it were daytime.
"My God, what is that?"
Some people stared in horror at the glowing object in the sky, while others knelt down, murmuring the name of Jesus, as if they had witnessed the devil's trickery.
"Never mind what that is, let's go!"
Hook quickly realized what was happening and ordered his men to mount their horses and flee.
The plan had failed; the darkness that had concealed them was gone, clearly a trap. If they didn't run now, they would all perish here.
"You white people come and go as you please, do you think this is a hotel?"
A voice rang out, and hundreds of figures appeared on the cliffs on both sides, looking down from above. At the same time, dense footsteps sounded outside the wooden fence, completely blocking the escape route.
Hundreds of breech-loading rifles, several machine guns, and several cannons were all aimed at the crowd.
"Shit!"
Hook squeezed out a word from his throat.
Rifles, machine guns, and artillery began to roar.
Machine guns swept below, rifles sniped at stragglers trying to escape, and artillery bombarded the most densely packed areas. The three layers of firepower coordinated perfectly, weaving an impenetrable net of fire at the bottom of the valley.
Gunshots bounced back and forth between the two cliffs, layer upon layer, deafeningly loud. Even louder than the gunshots were the dense, muffled thuds of bullets hitting human bodies.
Blood, flesh, and shredded cloth splattered into the air at the same time, and the person hit did not even have time to scream.
Some people tried to find cover, but the manor was barren, and there wasn't even a stone that could stop the bullets. They could only watch helplessly as the people around them were pierced by bullets and fell down one by one.
Hook fell to the ground and saw his adjutant lying face up three steps away, a bullet shattering his face so badly that his features were unrecognizable.
Further away, the soldiers fell in layers like wheat cut down by a sickle, some convulsing, others motionless without uttering a sound.
Meanwhile, at the Coastal Mountain Camp.
Fewer than forty California National Salvation Army soldiers remained at the camp; the rest were all elderly, weak, women, and children. At this moment, most of them were sleeping inside the cave, and the sentry on night watch was also leaning against the cave wall, dozing off.
Martin pulled a pocket watch from his pocket and snapped the cover open. The hour hand was about to point to midnight, and the minute hand had already passed eleven.
He closed the watch case and put the pocket watch back in his pocket.
"They've arrived."
Paul nodded slightly, then reached into his robes with his right hand and grasped the hilt of the dagger.
They stood up and walked toward the direction where the sentry was.
A sentry groggily raised his head, barely opening his sleepy eyes to glance at them, and asked, "Paul? Martin? Aren't you asleep yet?"
"If you can't sleep, you should go back and rest. We'll take your place on guard duty."
"Mmm...okay..."
The two sentries rubbed their eyes, mumbled a few words, and groggily straightened up from the cliff face, turning to walk into the cave entrance.
The instant they passed by the two men, two flashes of light appeared almost simultaneously. The blades sliced cleanly across the sentries' throats, without any unnecessary movement.
The two sentries clutched their throats and collapsed limply to the ground, their bodies twitching twice before their eyes widened and they died.
In the darkness outside, dozens of dark figures silently surged in.
The leader nodded to Martin and Paul without saying a word. He raised his hand and made a gesture.
charge.
The shadowy figures surged into the depths of the cave like a silent tide.
An hour later, in the open space outside the cave.
Four or five hundred white men, their hands tied behind their backs, squatted on the ground, huddled together. They were disheveled, and many women and children were sobbing softly, their faces filled with fear and bewilderment.
A dozen or so black-clad assassins stood beside the prisoners, their guns pointed at the group of people squatting on the ground, their faces expressionless.
Martin stood a short distance away, counted the number of prisoners, and then sent a message to San Francisco: "Coast Mountain Camp resolved, 462 prisoners including the elderly, women and children."
"Understood. Take the prisoners directly back to San Francisco."
"What's the situation at Golden Creek Valley?"
"Half of the prey in Golden Creek Valley was killed, and the rest surrendered."
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