Chapter 854 The second kingdom exploration, the female chief wearing a mask
"What? My grave?! You!..."
On the hill in summer, the sun shines very warmly, making people feel warm all over. The three small earthen bags and potholes are like homes carefully dug out by the Mexican fox. If you look carefully, the potholes
To the south, the mound of earth faces to the north, thoughtfully "sit north and face south". And on the mound of earth, there are actually three abstract little people painted on it, which are vaguely two big and one small...
Chihuako, an old militiaman, was dumbfounded, his eyelids twitching, and the corners of his mouth twitched. He looked at the "Feng Shui Treasure Site" chosen by Chipawa, looked at the little man who represented himself, and then turned to look at his son's sincere face. He trembled.
He raised his hand and gritted his teeth, but in the end he was still reluctant to hit him.
"Good son...Dad is still alive!...I guess there is no need for this place right now..."
"That's right! Dad, since you are still alive and my sister is also alive...then tomorrow I will dig up your and my sister's graves..."
"you!…"
The old militiaman's eyes widened and he was shaking with anger. He was speechless for a moment. Looking at the sincere joy on his son's face, he suddenly felt sad and sighed softly.
"Forget it! Just keep it all!..."
The old militiaman turned his head and looked at the scenery on the top of the mountain. The hills were neither high nor short, and the mountain flowers bloomed in summer. There was a large open lake to the east, densely populated camps to the west, and flat fields and farmland to the north and south... There was life everywhere.
Fresh breath.
"There are mountains, water, flowers and fields... The scenery in this land is really beautiful! Since you want to stay here, you better... keep a grave! Dad doesn't know when or where he will die.
You keep it here... From now on, it will be more or less just a thought!..."
With that said, the old militiaman turned around, lowered his head, and walked towards the lake at the foot of the hill.
"Dad! Why are you going back? Red Crow City is to the west!..."
"Wait for me a moment! I'll go to the boat to get something."
The mountain was not high, and it was very close to the long boat on the lake. After a while, the old militiaman took some seeds of the Cuban tung oil tree and returned to the top of the mountain. Then, he looked at his son who was standing blankly and asked.
"Chipawa, the grave you dug for me...is this hilltop your land?"
"Ah? Dad, you can't grow anything on this hilltop, and no tribes occupy it. If I want to ask for it, it's just a matter of a sentence or two."
"Well...then go and ask for it! Don't let our family's grave be leveled by someone else..."
Chihuako, the old militiaman, nodded, stretched out his hand, and called Chippawa over.
"What are you doing standing around? Don't you know how to dig? Come here and dig a hole for me! ... Carefully plant the seeds of these oil trees around them, a few steps apart... The mountain is bare, with only flowers and no trees.
It’s a little off-putting…”
"Ah? Plant a tree? Oh, okay..."
The wasteland warrior Chippawa squatted on the ground, digging a hole with his ax and asked doubtfully.
"Dad, what kind of seed is this? It feels weird to the touch? Did you just say, oil tree?"
"Yes! A tree that can bear oily seeds, and a tree whose seeds can squeeze out oil! Dad finally brought it back from the Cuban Snake Island in the east sea with great difficulty..."
"Ah! Can you squeeze out oil? Can you eat it?!"
"Eat, eat, eat! You know how to eat! Remember, the oil extracted from these seeds is poisonous! You can use it, but you can't eat it."
"You can't eat oil? What's the use of it?"
"Chipawa, if you want to lead people to fight, you need to use oil to maintain the equipment... Apply oil to the copper blade to prevent rust, apply it to the leather armor to strengthen it, soak the gun shaft to strengthen it, apply it to the big bow to maintain it... This oil!
I just want you to make careful preparations before the war!… By then, I won’t be able to use the grave you dug, but…”
Having said this, the old militiaman pursed his lips, unwilling to say the next words. Chippawa, the wilderness warrior, blinked his eyes, seeming to understand. The two of them worked like this for a while, planting more than a dozen seeds from Cuba.
The tung oil tree. Then, the old militiaman looked at a row of newly dug mounds and sighed quietly.
"That's it! Although it's not the rag wood from my hometown, trees that can produce oil are always of great use... After I leave, you must remember to take care of these trees... and take care of yourself..."
"Don't worry, Dad! I'm so brave, and I have thick armor made of bison skin! Even those ten tribal warriors with stone spears can't hurt me!"
"You...you idiot!"
"ah?…"
After a brief interlude, the people in the longship descended the hill and headed west again. They walked a few miles, passed through the outer fence, and came to the Red Crow "city" full of shacks and huts, filled with wasteland tribes. The wasteland warriors
Chippawa took his father deep into the messy camp and came to his hut. He was proud of himself, showed off some of the spoils of war, and was scolded again. Then, the bodyguards of little chief Alan finally arrived.
.
The personal guard leading the way was a strong female warrior in the wilderness. Her face was carved with terrifying tattoos, and her arms were twice as thick as those of the old militiamen. She held her head high, carrying a spear and bow and arrow, and looked at the scene indifferently.
A group of "Mexicans" asked "Who is the leader?". Then, she took the two leaders of the old militia, Chihuaco and Mecat Priest, and headed towards the heavily guarded chief's tent.
The wasteland warrior Chipawa wanted to follow, but was coldly rejected by the wasteland female warrior. He could only be a little worried, watching the two people go away, step by step, walked into the tall tent in the center of the camp.
In the big tent, there was a swaying bonfire, and there was also a faint smell of herbs. More than a dozen red-haired canine hunters looked fierce, holding spears and copper axes, with obvious hostility on their faces. They stared at the two not counting
The strong Mexica leader, like a pack of grinning wolves, looked at the fox walking into the den.
At the top of the big tent, there is a slender warrior leader. She wears strong cowhide armor, carries two sharp copper axes, hangs her strong long legs, and sits on a bear with a height of one meter.
On the leather blanket. Behind the bearskin blanket, there are two large hanging bows, a row of quivers filled with arrows, and a huge brown bear head, which seems to be a testimony of some kind of bravery.
Chihuaco, an old militiaman, carefully looked at the female chief above him, but found no obvious female features. The only thing that allowed him to confirm her identity was a silver chief's mask, engraved with mysterious wilderness patterns.
At this moment, under the firelight, the mask shone with a cold silver light, and was worn on half of the female chief's face, hiding her unknown appearance.
Under the silver chief's mask, there are sharp hunter eyes like an eagle, a straight nose bridge, and cold red lips exposed.
Chief Alan, who was wearing a mask, looked at the two people who walked in with cold eyes. Her sharp gaze fell on the two people, like a sharp arrow that was about to be shot, giving people a sense of danger in the face of the sharp edge. She just
He stared coldly with hunting eyes until beads of sweat formed on the forehead of the old militiaman, then he mocked in a deep voice with a deliberately lowered majestic tone.
"Haha! A weak warrior like you is the leader of the Mexica fleet?"
