Chapter 293: Mountain People Plowing in Spring, Peeping Dog Descendants
The breeze blew through the treetops, and the pines and cypresses sprouted new branches. The grass also grew more and more luxuriantly, enough to cover the body. The rain in early June arrived as expected, and the smoke from the burning of the wasteland rose and extinguished, leaving only a black ember.
In a field of ashes, thousands of Otomi mountain people were busy farming, and large tracts of farmland had been planted. In order to prevent the attack of the dog race, the young men all carried stone spears on their backs, and some people even had long slings around their waists. On a small hill nearby, a small team of 20 Otomi warriors was stationed. The warriors wore gray-blue cotton armor, carried war sticks on their backs, and had bone whistles around their necks to warn. They looked cautiously to the north, occasionally glancing at the mountain people who were farming, and then looking at the fields full of vitality.
The Otomi mountain people bent over and worked hard, breaking the soil with wooden and stone farm tools, and carefully sowing the hope of the year. When they took a short break, the magnificent mountain city of Ottopan appeared at the end of their sight, standing in the sky far to the south. The ancestral land of the mountain city has existed for eternity, like a sacred mountain where gods live, and it holds the hearts of all the mountain people.
Behind the mountain people, several gurgling streams flow down from the mountains, nourishing the farmland along the way. And by the small lake where the streams converge, there is a large Otomi village. This is sixty miles north of the mountain city of Ottopan, and it is also a northern stronghold guarded by the warriors.
Now, fifty Mexica warriors holding longbows and two hundred Otomi warriors holding shields and sticks are stationed together in the longhouse of the village, and nearby is a solid granary. Special firewood is piled up at the fire pit in the center of the village. When the number of attacking dog tribes approaches one thousand, the warriors will light the firewood and summon reinforcements from the mountain city. Three thousand-man camps are stationed more than ten miles to the south at this time, ready to attack at any time.
A figure swayed in the distant forest, and the warriors on the hill immediately stood up and looked around, holding the bone whistle to their mouths. Soon, a small team of Otomi scouts emerged from the forest, followed by hundreds of mountain people carrying food and farm tools. The warriors on both sides shook their fists and saluted each other, all relieved. The scouts looked at the cultivated fields and continued to guide the new mountain people to the village for resettlement.
Not long ago, the priest group of the mountain city issued a divine decree: evacuate the mountain people on the northern border, take away all the food, and concentrate on cultivating in the large villages around the mountain city. Then, under the protection of thousands of Otomi warriors, the priests who controlled the hearts of the people went north to guide and quickly evacuated the villages with more than 300 people. As for the remaining small villages, they were handed over to the scouts.
The border evacuation has lasted for a month, and today's batch is probably the last mountain people. The remaining micro-villages have only dozens of people, hiding in the mountains, and are difficult to find. They don't have much food, so it doesn't matter.
The mountain city of Otopan is more than 200 miles away from the state of Palms. After the looting and large-scale contraction of the dog race, the northernmost 100 miles of land is already uninhabited. And within the 100 miles near the mountain city, there are patrolling scouts, stationed warriors, and legions that can attack at any time.
Spring plowing is a hard and busy job. When you bend over, the morning sun has just risen, and when you look up, the sunset has already set. After a long night of deep sleep, it is another boring repetition of the day. The new day seems to be no different. The song sparrows are circling in the sky, and only the cultivated farmland can be seen. Oh, and there are eyes hidden in the mountains and forests.
Amosi crouched in the grass, squinting his eyes, looking at the mountain people who bowed their heads to cultivate, and the populous village not far away. He wore the cotton armor of the Mexica people and a yellow-green rattan hat on his head, covering his conspicuous red hair. His eyes stayed for a long time until another voice came from the grass.
"Amosi, did you see the Otomi warriors on the hill? How many are there?"
"Two palms, two feet, exactly twenty people. The leader put his hand on the neck, and it was probably a whistle that would make a beeping sound when blown."
"Ah, these screaming dogs! They are not good at fighting, but they are good at calling people."
Ivikan said "Pah" and popped his head out. He looked greedily at the village in the distance, then looked at the thousands of mountain people farming, and then stared fiercely at the young women who were half-dressed among them, and swallowed his saliva.
"Otomi women are much prettier than the skinny guys in the tribe. Their turkey-like bodies make them look fertile! Amosi, such a big village, with enough food and women. Do you want to fight?"
"Iwekan, don't worry, let me take a look. We followed the Otomi scouts all the way here, and we have to see where they hide the food. There are plenty of women, but food is the lifeblood of the tribe!"
Amosi watched carefully, his eyes paused on the spears carried by the mountain people, and then he pointed in the direction of the village.
"Let's go, let's go to the village and take a look."
Two red-haired warriors climbed up from the grass, as agile as mountain cats, without making any noise. Behind them, more than 20 tribal warriors also climbed up, each bending over like a hound. They carefully bypassed the cultivated fields and came to the back of the village, continuing to spy.
Not far away, a circle of shallow wooden fences surrounded the village, leaving only two exits in the north and south. There is a tall stone house in the center of the village. Some villagers are coming in and out, preparing a special lunch for the samurai masters. Ordinary mountain people don't have this blessing, they only have two meals a day, morning and evening.
Soon, a faint smoke rose, and the fragrance of corn drifted far away. A large group of warriors walked out of the long house, carrying weapons on their backs, chatting and laughing while sitting around the fire to eat.
"Gray-blue cotton armor, one palm, two palms, um, eight palms of Otomi dogs."
Amosi used both hands and borrowed Iwekan's palm, and finally counted two hundred with difficulty. Then, he continued to move his eyes and looked at the Mexica warrior in the center, his pupils suddenly contracted.
"Damn it, white-gold cotton armor inlaid with nails, a vine-wood face helmet, and a big bow! They are thick-skinned warriors of the Mexica, with ten palms!"
"What? The thick-skinned warriors of the Mexica?! Where are they?.Ouch!"
Ivican was shocked. He followed Amosi's hand and couldn't help but let out a low bark. The warrior in the center of the village suddenly became alert and stood up to look this way. The canine scouts lay low in the grass, motionless. After a while, the warriors resumed their chatter and continued eating.
Amosi breathed a sigh of relief, then lowered his voice and cursed angrily.
"Damn it, Iwekan, keep your mouth shut!"
"What are you afraid of, Amosi? No one can outrun us! Even a big bow can't shoot from this distance."
Ivican replied with a smile. He didn't care too much about the danger, but kept his voice low as well.
"It's really blinding. There are fifty thick-skinned warriors! Where did the cactus tribe in the south get so many thick-skinned warriors? The last time I fought with them, I shot a thick-skinned warrior with more than ten arrows, and he was the same as a hedgehog. Still alive and kicking, nothing happened!"
"Iwekan, the thick-skinned warrior's cotton armor cannot be penetrated by shooting, no matter how close it is! You have to shoot the small section of their neck that is exposed, shoot their calves and feet, or hammer their heads in close combat. Of course. , these thick-skinned ones are elites, they will cover their vital points intentionally, and they are also very powerful in close combat, which is really tricky!”
Amosi shook his head and continued to watch with a frown.
Soon, Iwekan opened his eyes wide and looked at the granary where the peasants were coming in and out.
"Food, a lot of food! Amosi, there are 100 senior redheads and 500 tribal warriors in the tribal brigade behind me! How many people are behind you?"
"I have fifty redheads and three hundred warriors behind me. I can't compare with your 'Red Fox' tribe."
"One hundred and fifty redheads, eight hundred warriors, and only two hundred and five on the opposite side. Oh, that's enough! Do you want to fight?"
"Hit me!"
Amosi let out a loud "poof" and turned to glare at his friend.
"Iweikan, do you have any brains? The Otomi native dogs are not easy to fight when they are on defense. Now there are warriors from the Cactus tribe. They are like dogs with their owners. They are very tough and will not be beaten to death. Will surrender!"
"Look at the terrain of this village again. The houses are blocked and the roads are narrow. The soldiers can't spread out at all and can't take advantage of their numerical advantage. The enemy also has big bows to defend. If we get hit, we will die! When we rush to the fence, thick Pi can shoot three rounds of arrows; break through the fence and shoot two rounds of arrows, and the soldiers will collapse. "
"Well, it seems reasonable. Amosi, you do have a bright mind. You are more like a member of our Red Fox tribe."
Iwekan thought for a while and then looked at the mountain people farming in the fields.
"How about letting the soldiers charge at these mountain people? Kill them and lure the defenders out, or snatch a few fertile women?"
"Grab the shit!"
Amosi stretched out his hand and hit Iwekan on the shoulder hard.
"What's the point of killing the grassy mountain people? The food is in the granary, and if you can't conquer the village, it's all in vain. If you stand here for a long time, the big group of warriors from the south will bite you. First, Ou, who is like a native dog The Tomis, then the Mexica warriors with dark green cotton armor, and finally the thick-skinned ones who couldn’t be beaten at all.”
"By the way, the last time I went deep into the south, I encountered several ferocious tiger heads. They should be the personal guards of the great chiefs, senior redheads of the Cactus tribe. They wore thick skins and tiger heads, and they were very good at tracking , chased me for fifty miles! No matter how the scout team changed directions, they couldn't get rid of them. I retreated to the northern border and contacted other tribes to ambush them, but they disappeared quietly. "
"A ferocious tiger head?"
Ivican frowned and murmured to himself.
"I think I heard the chief say that there are some eagle warriors and jaguar warriors in the Cactus tribe who are also thick-skinned?"
"The skin is as thick as a bear. Iweikan, don't think about it. The warriors of my tribe are all gathered here. If I break it randomly and don't get food, the chief and the priest will definitely sacrifice me alive! This village will be destroyed." If we don’t come down, we will still be here”
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"
Three sharp feather arrows roared suddenly from a distance and passed over the heads of the canine scouts. The two red-haired warriors were startled. They looked around and saw that at some point, several Mexican thick skins and dozens of Otomi dogs had quietly surrounded them from the side.
"Damn it, Iwekan, it's all your barking!"
"Ouch! Amosi, stop scolding. Since you can't fight, just save some strength and run north faster! We still have to notify the brigade behind!"
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"
A bark came again, accompanied by loud curses and whistling arrows. The two red-haired warriors lowered their bodies, like running hounds, and escaped from the range of their bows and arrows in the blink of an eye. A dozen canine scouts followed closely behind without stopping.
Chased by hundreds of coalition warriors, the canine descendants kept running. In the tense moments, the dogs barked again. From time to time, blood spills down the mountains and forests, infiltrating the fields of hope.
Flowers fall without leaving a trace, cats pass by silently, they lie flat and fall into the world of mortals~ Wow, cats poke their heads in, asking for a ticket.