Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 403 Haidong (Part 5)

June 2nd, cloudy.

The morning mist, like a piece of linen soaked in blood, wrapped the reeds along the shore of Beiqin Lake (Xingkai Lake).

Heshuo Tu squatted on the shore, his fingers tracing a few fresh footprints on the mudflats—the distinctive diamond pattern on the soles of deerskin boots, a unique mark of the indigenous hunters.

“Master, the ship is ready,” Takshan’s voice came from the fog.

Behind him, more than twenty small birch bark boats swayed on the shallows, like a herd of livestock waiting to be slaughtered.

Last night, when these boats were forcibly requisitioned, the blood of the Udege people stained half the bay red.

As Heshuo Tu stood up, bits of grass and leaves fell from the gaps in his armor.

It had been seven or eight days since they retreated from that Xinhua Fort (Changning Fort), and those persistent native hunters, like a leech, had been following them all the way.

The night before last, a guard on duty was shot through the eye with an arrow, and this morning a bannerman was attacked while fetching water by the lake and his head was cut off.

This meant that everyone wore armor while traveling and remained vigilant at all times to prevent surprise attacks.

"Takshan, Erhe, you two lead the cavalry and the other bannermen along the shore." Heshuotu stepped onto the widest dugout canoe, and the boat immediately sank three inches.

This small boat, carved from a single birch tree, was meant to carry five hunters, but it was now crammed with seven fully armed soldiers and a large amount of baggage.

"Remember, every two miles..."

A flock of wild ducks suddenly flew up from the reeds.

Almost simultaneously, a flash of silver light appeared in the willow grove thirty paces away on the left bank.

“Get down!”

The arrow grazed Heshuo Tu's iron helmet and struck the throat of the Han Chinese bondservant behind him.

The man, clutching his bleeding neck, plunged into the water, his heavy armor carrying him to the bottom like a stone.

"Archers!" Takshan's roar changed tone.

But the birch bark boat rocked so violently that all seven or eight arrows became embedded in the water.

"Whoosh!"

Heshuotu steadied himself, drew his bowstring taut, and swiftly fired an arrow at an attacker who was about to turn and flee.

"what!……"

With a scream, the attacker collapsed into the lake, and a patch of crimson immediately appeared on the surface of the water.

“Master…” Takshan looked over with concern.

Heshuo Tu stood on the canoe, coldly looking at the woods on the bank, his boots already soaked with half a finger's worth of river water.

"Don't linger, let's set off immediately!"

"Yes, sir!" Takshan responded and turned to run towards the troops that were gathering and waiting on the shore.
-
June 4th, evening.

The meandering Songacha River is the only outlet of the large lake (Xingkai Lake). At this moment, it is carrying twenty birch bark boats that were forcibly requisitioned, along with a large amount of armor and supplies carried by the army, and is drifting silently downstream to the northeast.

“Master, if we go a few dozen miles further, we’ll reach the Ussuri River.” Li Zonghui lowered his voice, his rough fingers tracing a simple map. “According to those guides, if we go downstream along that great river, we can reach the Black Water (Heilongjiang) in just three or four days.”

Heshuo Tu did not reply.

His gaze fell on the dense linden forests on both sides of the riverbank.

Among those intertwined branches, there might be native hunters hiding, bows drawn, arrows nocked, coldly watching them.

In the past ten days or so, they have lost seventeen men: eight were shot through the neck with arrows, five fell into traps filled with sharp wooden stakes, and four were beheaded in their sleep or when alone.

Damn it, those New Southlanders even have "Solon soldiers"!
With a "whoosh," several wild ducks were suddenly startled from the reeds on the right bank.

All the Eight Banner soldiers tensed up at the same time, drew an arrow, nocked it on the bowstring, and looked over nervously.

“Relax, it’s an otter.” Heshuo Tu squinted, stared for a while, and said in a low voice.

“However…” He suddenly raised his right hand, signaling the fleet to slow down and move the ships toward the right bank.

Li Zonghui followed his gaze.

On the right bank, a fallen birch tree stretched across the river, its bark etched with strange symbols—three wavy lines with a cross in the middle.

“Master, it’s the mark of a native hunter!” he exclaimed in a low voice.

"Shut up!" Heshuotu glared at him fiercely, a cold glint in his eyes. "Make the people on the shore stop."

Commands were transmitted through bird calls.

Takshan, who was walking on the right bank of the river, immediately gripped his sword. More than sixty bannermen scattered and squatted down in the bushes.

In the dead silence, only the sound of the river water lapping against the side of the boat could be heard.

"call out!"

"what!"

The sound of arrows piercing the air came without warning.

On the foremost canoe, a flag bearer suddenly clutched his shoulder, fell backward into the cabin, and screamed in agony.

"Enemy attack!...Left bank!"

Heshuo Tu saw several dark figures flash through the bushes on the left bank, moving as fast as sables in the forest. But behind them, the Eight Banner soldiers who had been lying in wait for a long time drew their swords and gave chase. Although Erhe, who was charging ahead, was burly, he was surprisingly agile and closed in on the attackers in a few leaps.

A moment later, a short, painful scream came from afar.

While the Qing soldiers were frantically treating the wounded and restoring order, Erhe had already returned, dragging a Hezhe man bound hand and foot.

The captive's deerskin boots were covered with fresh seaweed, and he had half a bowstring and half a quiver of arrows hanging from his waist.

"Master, they are all iron arrowheads!" Erhe held a feathered arrow in his hand and handed it to Heshuotu.

He turned around, kicked the prisoner to his knees in the mud, and his eyes flashed with ferocity.

Heshuo Tu took the arrow, squatted down, and used the arrowhead to lift the prisoner's chin.

This was a seventeen or eighteen-year-old Hezhe hunter, wearing a set of fish-skin armor representing the tribe's adulthood, and his gaze toward him was fierce and stubborn.

Strangely, he had a delicate brass box hanging around his neck, clearly made by Han Chinese.

"Why?" Heshuo Tu gripped the arrow shaft and plunged it deep into his thigh, causing him to contort in pain. He tried to struggle, but was held down by two armored soldiers and could not move at all.

"Pah!" The Hezhe hunter spat out a mouthful of blood and muttered some curses.

"Cut off his ears!" Heshuotu ordered.

Upon hearing this, a soldier drew his sword and cut off the Hezhe hunter's ear, leaving it bleeding profusely and staining half of his face red.

“…Speak!” Heshuo Tu asked again.

“@@@……￥……￥%￥……” The Hezhe hunter continued cursing, his voice hoarse, struggling with his bound arms.

“Tear off his other ear too.” Heshuo Tu frowned. “Don’t use a knife!”

Upon hearing this, the armored soldier was taken aback at first, then revealed a sinister smile, reached out and grabbed the Hezhe hunter's other ear, tearing it forcefully.

"what!……"

Amidst a series of piercing screams, a blood-soaked ear was cruelly ripped off. The Hezhe hunter's face was covered in blood, making him look exceptionally ferocious and terrifying.

"If you don't talk, I'll cut you into a human stick!" Heshuo Tu said coldly. "Do you know what a human stick is? It's like a wooden stick, with all the protruding branches and roots cut off, turning you into a slippery stick!"

The Hezhe hunter's face was contorted in pain, his eyes bulged, blood and foam kept spitting from his mouth, and he was making a hissing sound from his throat.

"Lord Xinhua... a reward is offered..."

“Give us salt, cloth… and grain… and your heads…”

He uttered a few words intermittently, and although the meaning was unclear, one could roughly guess their significance.

"Kill this beast!" Erhe raised his steel blade. "Damn it, how dare he treat us like bounty hunters, coming here to cut off our heads!"

"Kill him with one blow, that would be too easy for him!" Heshuo Tu waved his hand, his expression unusually gloomy, his fingertips trembling slightly.

He suddenly remembered a notice he had seen years ago when he captured Jinzhou—a Ming army notice offering a reward for the heads of the Eight Banners, with the largest characters reading "Reward of 10,000 taels of silver (for Beile and Gushan Ezhen)".

At that moment, he felt that all of this was so ridiculous and absurd.

With the Ming army's fighting strength, no matter how high the reward, they wouldn't be able to get it!

In comparison, the rewards offered by the Qing Dynasty to the Ming army for their victories were relatively low.

The head of an ordinary Ming soldier was worth at most a few taels of silver. Even if a high-ranking officer such as a general or governor was captured, the reward would only be five thousand taels of silver and a hereditary title of Niru.

Despite such meager rewards, last autumn, Dorgon and Yuetuo led their troops into the pass, fighting across several provinces for half a year, and almost every Eight Banner soldier achieved considerable success.

Even those lowly bondservants had several heads of Ming soldiers in their hands.

This achievement couldn't be easier!

Little did they expect that after venturing deep into this wild land, someone would offer them a bounty of salt, cloth, and grain for their heads.

This may not seem very harmful, but it is extremely insulting!
The soldiers of the Eight Banners of the Great Qing Dynasty were worth only a dozen catties of salt, a few bolts of cotton cloth, and a hundred catties of grain.

If you calculate it this way, it probably isn't even ten taels of silver, right?
"Cut off his hands and feet, slice off his nose, and pull out his tongue." Heshuotu clapped his hands, stood up, and walked towards the small boat on the shore. "Then hang him from a tree so his companions can have a good look at him!"

"Yes, sir!" Two armored soldiers dragged the Hezhe hunter into the forest.

“Master…” Takshan approached, a worried look on his face, “Should we burn down all the tribes along the way, so those scoundrels will know…”

"Shut up!" Heshuotu roared. "Do you want to push all the savages here to the New Continent people's side?"

“But…” Takshan glanced at the Han Chinese bondservant who was treating a wound at the bow of the ship, a sense of anxiety rising within him.

How dare these savages launch sneak attacks on our Great Qing Eight Banners time and time again, based solely on the bounty notices issued by the people of Xinzhou?

Aren't they afraid of angering the Great Qing and sending troops to thoroughly plow this place up?
"what!……"

A piercing scream echoed from the woods, interspersed with endless curses and howls, sending a chill down one's spine.

"Master, should we continue towards Blackwater?" Takshan asked in a low voice, having composed himself slightly.

Heshuotu looked towards the northeast.

The mouth of the Ussuri River is already faintly visible, and further north lies the Black Water—that savage territory, even larger than several Liaodong regions.

If the people of New Zealand have already taken root there...

"Of course we must go!" Heshuotu exclaimed loudly, "I won't feel at ease if I don't go and see for myself!"
-
(End of this chapter)