America 1881: Legend of the West

The next day, many residents who were still in the town gathered at the altar on the edge of the town.

Chen Jianqiu asked Luo Cen to make an announcement early in the morning and summoned the main figures of the three tribes.

He has something big to announce.

Lao Ma Lai leaned on crutches and sat on the ground, closing his eyes and concentrating with confidence.

The people of his tribe stood behind him.

But there are one or two people missing in the middle.

Klickitat stood aside, playing with a hunting knife in his hand and looking askance at old Marais.

There were many more people behind him.

Because he called back all the young people from his tribe working in Juarez one day in advance.

Luo Cen still stood there expressionless.

It seemed that the leaders of the two tribes in front of him were not in his eyes, and the person standing behind her was an armadillo.

Their number is the smallest among the three tribes.

The three tribes have lived a harmonious life for a long time, almost indifferent to each other, so the atmosphere at this time seems a bit awkward.

Because most people don't know what happened in the past two days.

The sound of horse hooves came from the direction of the town.

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound.

They saw bursts of yellow dust rising there, and after a while, a group of soldiers on horseback appeared in their field of vision.

When Chen Jianqiu and his soldiers approached the town, they slowed down and formed a neat formation, heading towards the altar.

The Indians in the town stayed away.

The long procession slowly passed through the town, then dismounted simultaneously in front of the altar and entered the venue.

Old Malay opened his eyes.

When he saw Chen Jianqiu and the hundred or so armed soldiers behind him, his hands couldn't help but tremble, and his crutches fell sideways to the ground, rolling twice.

Some bad memories started to hit him.

In order to cover up his embarrassment, Old Malay picked up the crutch from the ground, waved it, and made a weird arc in the air.

No one present could quite understand the meaning of his action, thinking it was some ancient Indian mysterious ritual.

The cane stood up again.

Old Marais was holding the crutches, his eyes were closed, his brows were furrowed, and his arms were shaking.

"Is the leader performing some kind of witchcraft? I see that he is very focused and consumes a lot of energy." A tribe member behind Old Malai whispered to another man with long hair and a shawl.

The two men were old Malay's right-hand men and both participated in the "night talk" that day.

"Right Arm" nodded, deeply convinced, while staring at his leader intently:

"Yes, I have seen this kind of witchcraft. Its function is to obtain the blessing of nature and temporarily control the opponent's mind."

While explaining to the people next to him, he observed the situation of old Malai.

"His witchcraft requires a lot of energy. Look, the leader is sweating on his head."

"He is still working hard. Our leader has extraordinary concentration. He still maintains his sitting posture. Hey, that's not right."

The old man's body was shaking, and his butt tried to leave the ground several times but failed.

"Right Arm" realized that he seemed to be wrong:

"The leader needs to stand up. Quick, go up and help him." He whispered to his "left arm".

Two people quickly stepped forward, and one person took one of old Malai's arms and lifted him up from the ground.

Old Marais was suddenly lifted up from the ground, his eyes darkened, he was dizzy, and his body was shaky.

"Can't you go slower?" He said through gritted teeth, "This is too ugly."

The "left arm" and the "right arm" didn't dare to talk nonsense and quickly prepared to let go of old Malai's arm.

However, the old man clamped his arms.

"Don't let go, my legs are numb!" Old Malay whispered expressionlessly without looking away.

He now felt that the parts of his legs below the knees were not his, they were hanging there limply.

"Yo? What kind of look is this?"

Chen Jianqiu passed by old Malai, stopped and looked at the old man with interest.

Old Malai's face was ashen, but he couldn't defend himself for a while, so he could only stare at the other party.

Chen Jianqiu glanced at Lao Ma Lai's two tired calves and roughly understood:

"Hey, elderly people are prone to poor blood circulation in their legs and feet. If you sit for a long time, you have to stand up and walk around frequently. As you get older, you still need to learn to maintain your health."

He said, not caring whether Old Marais understood or not.

Old Marais seemed to understand.

Because his face is darker.

"Mr. Chen! You are here!"

Seeing Chen Jianqiu coming, Klickitat rubbed his hands with a smile on his face.

Chen Jianqiu gave him a mysterious smile in return.

This smile made Klickitat feel instantly at ease.

He glanced at the large number of tribesmen behind him, and then at the heavily armed soldiers brought by Chen Jianqiu.

Klickitat was confident.

This leader’s position is probably gone!

Chen Jianqiu did not stay at his side, but came to Luo Cen again and exchanged glances with her.

Then, he walked to the center of the sacrificial place and cleared his throat:

"Geronimo is dead!"

These words were like a bolt from the blue, striking into the hearts of everyone present.

But at this time, most people still had doubts on their faces.

After all, news of Geronimo's death has been circulating among the Apaches for more than a day or two, but it has not been completely confirmed.

They always felt that this God of War would not simply die.

But Chen Jianqiu's next move shattered their illusions.

He reached behind him.

A Chinese soldier handed a blood-stained piece of clothing to Chen Jianqiu's hand.

He gently unfolded the clothes in his hands.

The clothes were in tatters, with a big hole in the back and torn sleeves, but the Indians behind Roczen could still tell that the clothes belonged to their chief.

Geronimo was wearing this dress when he left that day.

"We found this dress by a dry river. There were blood stains on the nearby stones." Chen Jianqiu lowered his voice and said with "sadness", "Unfortunately, we were unable to find his body, but What is certain is that the warchief was killed.”

A burst of mourning came from the crowd behind Luo Cen.

Many of them came here from the mines with Geronimo, broke through the encirclement and suppression of the US military, and went through untold hardships before living a stable life.

Geronimo died, and their sky fell.

Many people couldn't help covering their faces and crying, and those who didn't shed tears also had sad faces.

There were also sounds of regret among the Indians from the other two tribes behind Klickitat and Old Marais.

During Geronimo's time as chief, the old man's bravery and approachability left a deep impression on them.

Perhaps the valley in the south of the country was not their hometown, but this legendary chief led them to live and work in peace and contentment here.

But now he actually takes the first step, which is really disappointing.

"As a comrade and lifelong friend of the great chief, his death makes me heartbroken. The Apaches have lost a legend; and you have lost an excellent leader!"

Chen Jianqiu's voice was low and he was "extremely sad."

"But life still has to go on, and a good person is still needed to lead everyone forward. In our words, it is called 'a country cannot live without a king for a day.' It is recommended that everyone nominate a new candidate as soon as possible to fill Geroni's place. Don’t leave a vacancy, this is the second thing I said today.”

After Chen Jianqiu finished speaking, he deliberately paused for a while.

He stretched out his hand to the people behind him, motioning for them to bring the water bag.

At this time, some people at the scene could no longer bear it.

Klickitat believed that this was an opportunity left to him by Chen Jianqiu.

He glanced left and right, took a step forward, put his feet together, raised his head, and said loudly:

"I am willing to inherit the will of the great chief and take over this responsibility! I will try my best to do my best."

One stick, after 12 o'clock in the second update,