The cavalry squad stopped because the Mongols gave up pursuit and retreated into their camp.
It looked like they were preparing to break camp and run away. There was chaos in the camp as herdsmen were busy gathering their cattle and sheep.
"Boss, they have retreated, what should we do?" Qin Zheng asked.
"Half of the casualties were lost in the first fight. What else can we do if we don't retreat?" Shen Ting said.
There were still about twenty survivors lying there in the wild, wailing. These Mongolians were very cruel, so they simply abandoned them.
An Sanxi looked at the tribe's camp. There were more than 300 people inside, and many women could shoot bows and arrows. It was impossible for him to rush in with such a small number of people.
"Spread out, three groups, surround on three sides, keep a safe distance, and shoot coldly." An Sanxi quickly made a decision.
The camp on the grassland didn't even have fences, it was just a piece of felt, because there was only grass on the grassland and not many trees, so it was impossible to hold back the horses.
And such a felt bag can't stop lead bullets at all. It's the same as not having any cover.
The guard team immediately divided into three groups, went around and surrounded the camp on three sides.
The effective range of the cavalry flintlock carbine can reach 80 meters, and it can completely suppress bows and arrows at a distance of 50 to 60 meters.
Both humans and horses are protected by stab-proof suits. They are not afraid of the other party's arrows. They will shoot whenever they see a human figure.
If the opponent chases them out, use short fire muskets to deal with them.
As soon as the cavalry arrived, sporadic gunshots rang out. Although the momentum was gone, this kind of cold gunfire was even more deadly.
An Sanxi had the intention of training his troops and did not want to deal with them all at once, so he fought sparsely.
A Mongolian driving a horse was shot in the head with the sound of a gunshot. Without a word, he fell from his horse and was trampled to pieces by the horses running behind him.
An old man hid behind a felt bag and shot an arrow. The arrow hit a cavalryman, but the arrowhead made of animal bones was very rough and bounced away without any effect.
Then the cavalryman discovered him and fired directly at his hiding position. The felt bag had no effect at all. The lead bullet penetrated directly and hit his shoulder. The huge impact knocked him to the ground. .
The old man couldn't use his arm anymore, so he threw away his bow and arrow, covering his wound and wailing.
The people in the camp were so frightened that they lay on the ground, or crawled into the livestock, crawling under the belly of the livestock to avoid the musket fire.
An Sanxi watched with a satisfied smile as he watched someone get hit every two or three gunshots.
These little brats need enemies like this that are not too strong to train their psychological qualities.
As long as you get used to fighting on the battlefield, you will soon be able to fight them head-on with the Mongols.
"Boss, what do they mean?" Wang Peng pointed at a man who came out of the camp with rag strips and metal bucket bells all over his body and said.
An Sanxi looked carefully and found that the person was a woman in her thirties, with ferocious tattoos all over her face, which was very scary.
The clothes on his body were all cloth strips, and he was holding a deer antler stick in one hand.
An Sanxi lost his voice and said: "Shaman!"
Unexpectedly, such a small tribe actually has a shaman.
It seemed that his hunting tactics were working. After losing more than a dozen warriors, the tribe couldn't bear it any longer. It sent a shaman to negotiate.
"Blow the trumpet and withdraw the troops," An Sanxi ordered decisively.
Grain Stew There are rules in the grassland. An Sanxi has lived on the grassland for many years, and he respects the rules in the grassland.
Shamans are a special religion that has been wandering for five thousand years. They have been all over the world since prehistoric times.
To this day, the movements and tones of the dance masters in the three provinces of Eastern China are almost exactly the same as the shamanic rituals in Tierra del Fuego, Argentina.
Five thousand years ago, the Scythians on the Ukrainian steppes spread shamanism throughout the steppes of Eurasia.
From Norway to Sakhalin, it even spreads throughout North and South America.
They finally breathed a sigh of relief when they saw that these horse thieves in colorful clothes and with ridiculously powerful firearms also respected the shaman.
As long as we can communicate, we can talk and see what they want. If the fight continues, all the adult men will die and the tribe will be finished.
The cavalry squad lined up neatly in horizontal lines, silently watching the shaman walking away.
The survivors of the tribe behind him, including the elderly and the young, all came out. They did not intend to continue to resist because their faces had been killed by a stray bullet.
An Sanxi got off his horse, straightened his straight military uniform, signaled everyone not to move, and walked towards the shaman alone.
The grassland fell silent at this moment. In the distance, tribesmen gathered together, and there were three hundred people in the dark place.
In the middle are Shaman and An Sanxi standing opposite each other. Not far behind are a vigilant cavalry squad with guns.
"Are you Mongolians or Han Chinese?" the shaman asked.
An Sanxi looked at her carefully. If it weren't for the horrific tattoos on her face, she would be a mature and sexy woman with a beautiful face and skin as white as milk.
His facial features are deep, and he looks like he has mixed blood with people from the Western Regions. His flaxen hair is disheveled.
"Nai Renbaat'er" An Sanxi said calmly.
This is a special name, a Mongolian name given to him by the nobleman back then.
"I am Han Chinese but grew up in Mongolia. I am the personal guard of a noble person who is a descendant of the golden family of the Tumut tribe." An Sanxi said in Chinese.
The shaman was in awe and saluted him. This is a very high status on the grassland, especially for these small tribes with low status.
"Noble sir, what do you want to gain by attacking us?" the shaman asked.
"Lin Dan, the Great Khan, abandoned the thousands of years of faith on our grassland, accepted the Tibetan religion, burned the shaman's sacred objects, and drove the shaman away everywhere. The herdsmen lost their faith. I and my partners want to restore the grassland
order."
The shaman was shaking with excitement. Since Lin Dan Khan promoted Lamaism on the grasslands and suppressed shamans, a large number of shamans were expelled, and shaman supplies and sacred objects were burned in public.
Now all the shamans on the grassland have gone underground. They are protected and hidden by the people at the bottom and small tribes.
Currently, those who believe in Lamaism are the Great Khan, the Little Khan, Taiji and the Shepherd. The majority of Mongolians still believe in the shamans who have been passed down for thousands of years.
Historically, under the attack of the nobles, the shamans on the grassland completely broke with the upper class of Mongolia.
A large number of shamans turned to join the slaves. This time the shamans moved eastward for more than fifty years. The shamans used all the power they had accumulated over hundreds of years to help the Qing Dynasty to attack Mongolia.
They had an in-depth understanding of Mongolia's internal affairs, so that the Manchus were well aware of everything that happened in Mongolia.
It was with the help of shamans that Huang Taiji completely annexed Monan Mongolia in just a dozen years and expanded the land to the north of the entire Great Wall.
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Please remember the domain name of this book:.Literature Museum
