Stimulated by the strong smell of herbal medicine, Sorayama Kazuyo suddenly opened his eyes. The familiar touch of the long sword handle in his hand made him feel at ease. He felt that the injuries on his body seemed to have improved. He knew that someone must have saved him.
own.
It was an extremely simple house, better called a hayloft than a room. The top of the head was thatch, and the floor beneath the body was covered with black animal skins whose texture could no longer be seen, and the surroundings were mixed with soil.
The entire house was erected with unknown plants, leaving only a small hole as an exit. Of course, there were no doors or windows.
Even Japan in the Warring States Period was much better than this in this hostile strategic environment, and it is no exaggeration to say that it was extremely dilapidated.
Where is this... Ichiyo Sorayama sheathed his sword and walked out with difficulty, using it as a crutch. Piles of bonfires were lit under the dim sky, and a rich aroma of broth wafted from the iron pot. Finally,
Bring a bit of life to this dilapidated and barren place.
Seeing Kazuyo Sorayama appearing, this unknown tribe let out bursts of exclamations, speaking a language that Kazuyo Sorayama had never heard before. However, judging from their body movements and expressions, they did not look hostile.
There is even some reverence in Ye's perception?
Two tall, bare-chested men with long feather headdresses, faces painted with various dyes, walked over. If it weren't for the traces of civilization shown by the daggers at their waists and the long flintlock guns in their hands, there would be no trace of civilization.
I thought I had entered some kind of primitive tribe in a wild land.
The leader, an older man, put his right hand on his chest and kept saying what these were, but Kazuyo Sorayama was still confused by the words he said. Seeing Kazuyo Sorayama's puzzled expression, the young man suddenly
He said in broken English: "Dear guest, do you understand English?"
Kazuyo Sorayama was shocked and nodded in response: "Where is this? How long have I been unconscious?"
The two people across from each other looked at each other with a look of understanding. The young man continued: "We are a tribe of Cheyenne people. Those white bandits called this fast land Texas. You discovered it during our migration.
Yeah, it’s been a day and a night now.”
Texas! If he heard the word correctly, why did he suddenly arrive in the United States? Looking at the clothes of these people, could they be the legendary Indians? What kind of tribe are the Cheyennes?
Even if he was an absolute idiot about history, Kazuyo Sorayama knew about the famous Indians and the massacre that was almost exterminated by the Americans, but he didn't know what year and month it was now.
At the invitation of the young leader of the Cheyenne tribe, Sorayama Kazuyo sat by the largest bonfire in the center of the tribe, picked up a clay pot, drank broth mixed with unknown grains and beef, and heard about the origin of this tribe.
and his own experience of being rescued.
The leader's name is Kettle. Their tribe originally lived in the fertile central region of the United States. However, they have been expelled by the U.S. government over the years. They stopped and went all the way to the barren Texas. During the journey, they were constantly being attacked by white people.
The army, armed merchants, bandits, and mercenaries intercepted, harassed, and were forced to disperse with the large army. Now I have lived in this place for more than seven years, and the village has gradually restored its size to about 200 people, half of whom are women and children.
, the tribe has less than a hundred gun-wielding warriors.
As for how they met Kazuyo Sorayama, it is somewhat legendary. Originally, when the tribal warriors were chasing a few bison, a beam of light that penetrated the sky and earth suddenly appeared. When they got closer, they found Kazuyo Sorayama who happened to be bathing in the middle of the sun. There were also a few antelopes, known for their timidity and caution, who were grazing safely. They thought this was a miracle sent by the gods, so they rescued Yiye from the empty mountain and brought it back to the tribe.
If it weren't for seeing this so-called "miracle", the Indian tribes who have been struggling on the verge of death all year round would not be so hospitable...
"Distinguished guest, where are you coming from and where are you going?" Chief Keitel, who was in a narrating state most of the time, couldn't help but ask this question when he looked at Kazuyo Sorayama who looked very serious in front of him.
Sorayama Kazuyo shook his head, his hoarse voice filled with bitterness: "I came from the other side of the sea. As for where I'm going... I don't know either."
Where are you going when you come to this world? Of course, this is not your hometown, but what about Japan in this era? What about China? Without the ties of acquaintances and acquaintances, the word "hometown" only exists in fantasy. Just vocabulary.
Keitel actually nodded in agreement and said in the same melancholy tone: "We are the same. We don't know when we can go back to the mountains and grasslands in our hometown. In this case, distinguished guests..."
"Call me Sorayama." Sorayama waved his hand.
"Mr. Sora, Sorayama." Keitel read out the extremely non-standard pronunciation with difficulty, "Why don't you stay with us first? If you want to leave here, I have to wait until you recover from your injuries. The wilderness is full of brutal white bandits, and they rob everything. Things within sight, food, money, land, women..."
The strong chief looked vaguely at Kongshan Yiye's gray temples. In his eyes, although the "old man" in front of him who coughed from time to time was tall, his body was not strong at all. Although he was carrying a handful A beautiful long knife, but in the eyes of people living in this land in this era, only a gun is a man's most important companion. Without a gun in hand, it is infinitely equivalent to being naked, with a "Hey, hurry up" hanging on your body. Come and rob me" signs are no different.
Kazuyo Sorayama had no intention of explaining. Although it was not in line with An Xin's nature to be a weakling who was being taken care of, in this tribe that lived by hunting and gathering all day long, there should be no chance for him to show off his swordsmanship.
In this way, Kazuyo Sorayama settled down to live in this Indian tribe called Cheyenne. After being admired out of curiosity at the beginning, and finally becoming accustomed to it, Kazuyo Sorayama seemed to have integrated into this small group.
Every morning, the children in the tribe would gather next to Ichiyo Sorayama and watch him slowly wave the long captain's light in his hand. In their eyes, this soft and slow movement was obviously not a martial art, but a martial art. It is more like a dance, so the older children will beat the tambourine made of bison skin and dance to the rhythm of Sora Yiye in a rough tribal dance. One side is gentle and the other is cheerful, two different kinds of dance. The movements are surprisingly harmonious.
As his injuries gradually improved, Kazuyo's range of activities gradually moved from the tribe to the nearby river. In the jungle, he would always bring some prey every time he came back - freeloading was not Kazuyo's habit. However, although there was no It was as desolate as the Gobi when he first arrived in this world, but the slightly sparse trees and plants also showed that this was not a rich land. When tribal warriors went out to hunt, they often had to walk for most of the day on horseback.
According to the young chief, there were herds of bison here in the past few years. Relying on these bison, they not only had enough food and clothing, but could also exchange the most important firearms, ammunition, horses and some daily necessities from white traders.
However, in the past two years, the number of bison has become less and less, and life has become more and more difficult.
"This is a white man's conspiracy! They want to exterminate the buffalo and starve us to death. This must be the case, these demons! We Cheyenne warriors will not surrender!" Chief Kettle often said.
As if to confirm Keitel's words, a few days later, a cavalry company of about a hundred people was stationed in a small town less than a day's walk from the tribe. Although the two sides did not fight, according to the information sent to the soldiers to investigate, this only
The company's equipment is very well-equipped and its discipline is very strict. It cannot be run by a large group of bandits. It must be a regular army sent by the white government.
"These bastards, do you want us to continue to migrate? Absolutely!" Chief Kettle roared to all tribal warriors in Indian language. Just as the Cheyenne convened the warriors for a meeting, two cavalrymen set off from the cavalry company with the right purpose.
It's their tribe.
But Kazuyo Sorayama, who knew nothing about all this, still lived a leisurely life of hunting at sunrise and resting at sunset.