Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 463 Direction
On the afternoon of April 13, 1641, in an unnamed valley thirty kilometers east of Fort San Diego, the damp spring wind, carrying mountain mist, swept through the pine forest, making a whooshing sound, much like the roar of Spanish cannons during the siege of the camp.

Thirty-one Xinhua exploration team members huddled in a sheltered spot in the middle of the valley, building a makeshift camp with pine branches and stones. The withered grass still held the dew from the previous night, leaving a trail of muddy footprints from the team members' footsteps.

Captain Hu Dagen leaned against a moss-covered rock, his left hand pressing against the wound on his right arm. Bloodstains had soaked through the cotton cloth wrapped around his arm, leaving dark red marks.

He looked at his teammates, who were standing silently with their heads down, and his throat tightened.

Two months ago, when the team set off from Yongning Bay, there were 45 vibrant faces. Now, only 31 people remain, and 14 bodies are left forever in that beach camp torn apart by artillery fire and in the mountains and forests teeming with pursuers.

“Take inventory of the supplies.” Hu Dagen’s voice was hoarse, as if it had been sanded. He raised his hand to wipe the mud and grime off his face, revealing his forehead blackened by gunpowder. “Lin Xiaoman, give me a count.”

Lin Xiaoman stood up in response. His blue uniform was torn in a large tear, revealing abrasions on his knees. He was clutching the colonization log wrapped in oilcloth tightly in his hand.

"Captain, there are 25 muskets left. Three of them have overheated and the barrels have exploded, leaving 21 that are still usable. As for ammunition... each person only has an average of 12 lead bullets left. There are 3 full gunpowder canisters left, and the rest are half full."

He paused, his voice lowering, "There's half a bag of flour, a bag of corn kernels, twenty-three potatoes, and the deer we hunted yesterday—we roasted it and shared it, so there's half left... Now..."

"What about the drinks and candy?" Zhao Feng pressed, his gaze sweeping over the team members' chapped lips.

"There's still half a jug of liquor left, and only eight sugar cubes left."

"Where's the medicine?" Hu Dagen turned to look at Doctor Yang Jinshui.

"Not much left." Yang Jinshui looked a little embarrassed. "When we retreated on the way, we lost two medical kits. The hemostatic powder and gauze are almost gone, but we still have some herbs for colds and diarrhea. However, we still can't drink this stream water. We have to boil it to avoid causing unnecessary illness."

"Stone, what's the situation around us?" Hu Dagen's gaze shifted to the only veteran in the team with ample combat experience.

“I just took some men to check downstream of the stream, and we didn’t find any trace of pursuers,” Wang Shitou said calmly. “However, there are many messy footprints in the mud by the stream, which should have been left by some local tribe.”

Suppressed coughing came from the corner. Team member Zhou Ming was leaning against a tree, shivering. He had been hit in the abdomen by a lead bullet, and the wound was red, swollen, and inflamed. Yellowish-green pus was seeping from the simple bandage.

Upon hearing the cough, Yang Jinshui quickly went over, took out new gauze strips and herbs from his medical kit, and prepared to change the dressing for him.

Zhou Ming grimaced in pain, but gritted his teeth and kept quiet, lest he attract the attention of the Spanish pursuers deep in the mountains.

"How is the situation?" Hu Dagen walked over and squatted down, looking at Zhou Ming with concern.

"..." Yang Jinshui was silent for a moment, then shook his head almost imperceptibly. "This would require removing the lead bullet from my abdomen, but I don't have any anesthetic..."

He did not tell Zhou Ming the truth in front of him, but even if the lead bullet was pulled out of his abdomen, there was probably no way to undo it.

In the past few days, with the Spanish team relentlessly pursuing them, he has had no chance to treat all the injured in a timely manner.

Zhou Ming was shot in the abdomen. Although the internal organs and intestines were not damaged, the lead bullet remained in his body for several days, infecting the muscles and nerves around the wound and causing extensive gangrene.

Moreover, these lead bullets are toxic and can cause irreversible and serious damage to the body.

If a person is shot in one of the limbs, amputation can be used to stop the infection and gangrene from spreading further and save their life.

But now...

Zhou Ming suddenly grinned, his laughter tinged with blood: "It's alright, Physician Yang, just use the dagger to cut me, I can take it. I want to live, I still want to have a good life in Xinhua..."

Upon hearing this, Yang Jinshui looked somber and turned to look at Hu Dagen.

"Do your best." Hu Dagen patted him on the shoulder, stood up, and looked around at everyone.

"What do you all think we should do next?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the team members started chattering amongst themselves, their tired but determined faces revealing their determination.

“I think we should continue to retreat eastward!” Wang Shitou said loudly. “Currently, we have only just entered the mountains and are about 30 kilometers away from San Diego Bay. Given that the Spanish have been operating here for more than ten years, the surrounding indigenous tribes have been more or less affected by them, and there are even some tribes that have directly joined them.”

"If we continue to stay here, even if the Spanish don't chase us up, we might be attacked by some tribes that are close to the Spanish. It's still very dangerous for us. There are plenty of deer, rabbits, and wild goats in the mountains. We have firearms and swords. We can make a living by hunting."

"Once we hide until winter, the Spanish won't be able to find us and will definitely withdraw their troops. Then we'll try to sneak to the coast and scout out the situation."

"Hide out in winter?" Lin Xiaoman immediately objected: "Brother Wang, winter in the mountains is very dangerous. If the temperature drops, we don't have enough warm clothes and tents. Besides, none of us have explored the terrain and environment of this mountain range. If we venture in rashly, we may encounter all sorts of unimaginable risks."

"Furthermore..." He glanced at the wounded, a worried look on his face, "If there aren't many food supplies and other provisions left in the mountains, we probably won't last long, we might..."

“What if we encounter a few native tribes? Wouldn’t that give us enough supplies?” Wang Shitou said. “But… what if we don’t encounter any native tribes?”

"How could we not encounter them? It's much warmer here than Yongning Bay. Even in the mountains, there must be plenty of animal resources and wild fruits. There must be indigenous tribes here."

"You're gambling with all of our lives..." Lin Xiaoman muttered.

"What do you know, you little brat?" Wang Shitou glared at him. "When I was serving in Xinhua, you were still digging up tree roots to eat in Shandong! I could tell you almost exactly where the wild game and berries were just by looking at them..."

"Alright!" Hu Dagen interrupted them in a deep voice, looking at the others. "Any other suggestions?"

Eighteen-year-old draftsman Liu Changshun timidly raised his hand. His coarse cloth jacket was covered in mud and grass clippings, and he had a cloth bag slung over his shoulder containing topographical maps he had drawn over the past two months.

“Captain, how about… head north?” He held a small wooden stick and drew a map on the ground. “We should follow the western side of the mountains, avoiding the Spanish pursuers and the surveillance of the native tribes. It should take about a month to reach Qingsha Bay (San Pedro Bay, where Long Beach Port is located today). Our Xinhua merchant ships occasionally pass by there, and we might be able to get rescued.”

"North?" Wang Shitou shook his head. "Shunzi, have you forgotten? We're currently fighting the Spanish. Why would merchant ships be heading south at this time? Besides, it'll take more than a month to travel north. Can our remaining supplies last that long? Who knows what unexpected situations we might encounter on the way!"

Liu Changshun's face flushed red, and he lowered his head and said softly, "But... it's better than being trapped in the mountains, right? Even if no merchant ships come south, the officials in Yongning Bay will definitely send ships to rescue us when they hear that we are trapped in San Diego. At that time, we can light smoke in Qingsha Bay during the day and light fires at night. If they come, they will definitely see us."

"Pshaw!" Wang Shitou sneered. "Lighting cigarettes and torches, what if we don't get our rescue ship and instead attract the Spanish?"

"..." Liu Changshun was speechless for a moment, squatted on the ground, and unconsciously drew random lines with a small wooden stick.

Silence fell over the valley, broken only by the low groans of a few wounded men and the chirping of birds in the woods.

Hu Dagen looked at his team members, feeling as if a stone was pressing on his heart.

He recalled the scene of the breakout that night. In order to cover the evacuation of more than 30 of them, several seriously injured team members stayed behind with a look of farewell in their eyes.

On the retreat, four companions, in order to block the Spanish cavalry, resolutely turned around and charged back with bayonets, only to be knocked away by their horses...

“How about…” a faint voice rang out. Everyone looked in the direction of the voice and saw Eric, the Hispanic team member in charge of translation, stammering, “Should we… talk to the Spaniards?”

These words immediately caused an uproar in the valley.

"You bastard, what nonsense are you spouting!" Wang Shitou suddenly stood up, drew his waist knife, and said, "Negotiate with those beasts? They shouted for us to surrender outside the camp, then turned around and bombarded us with cannons. Have you forgotten how Old Wu died? He went to talk to the messenger and was hanged from a tree branch by those scumbags to threaten us into surrendering unconditionally!"

Eric shrank back, but still stubbornly said, "But...but things are different now. We're running out of ammunition, and more and more of our brothers are wounded. Fighting them head-on is a dead end. The Spanish want us to surrender, right? We'll lay down our weapons and stop resisting as a condition for them to send us back to Yongning Bay. That way, at least...at least everyone can survive."

"Survive?" Wang Shitou's face contorted with rage as he glared at him. "You dog, have you forgotten we're Xinhua people! Back in the army, the motto I was taught was 'Better to die standing than live kneeling!' Laying down our weapons means becoming prisoners of war. Do you think the Spanish would be kind enough to send us back to Yongning Bay? Don't fucking dream on! Those bastards will definitely send us to the mines in Mexico City, where we'll suffer a fate worse than death!"

“That’s right. Falling into the hands of the Western barbarians will certainly not end well,” Lin Xiaoman said. “Two years ago, news came back from Luzon that the Western barbarians had massacred tens of thousands of Han people, the reason being that they wanted to plunder their property. Do you think that if we lay down our weapons and surrender after fighting them, we will be treated well?”

"Anyway, I don't want to leave my life to the Western barbarians. I'd rather follow Brother Wang into the depths of the mountains than surrender! At least, I might not die in the mountains. But if I fall into the hands of the Western barbarians, I'll most likely have no chance of survival."

Eric blushed and stammered, "I...I was just making a suggestion, I didn't intend to...surrender. I'm also a Xinhua Chinese, how could I possibly surrender voluntarily? I just...I just thought we could try to talk to them..."

"Alright, stop talking. I know what you mean." Hu Dagen raised his hand to stop the argument. "Surrendering to the Spanish is impossible. We know all the dirty deeds they've done in Mexico and Peru from the newspapers. Xiaoman is right. We must take our own lives into our own hands. We can't rely on the benevolence and magnanimity of the Westerners."

Eric's lips moved, but he ultimately said nothing more and lowered his head to organize his backpack.

Silence fell over the valley once more.

"Captain, I think I heard cannon fire..." Niu Baolai, who had been lying on the ground, suddenly spoke up: "Is it... our Xinhua warships coming?"

"Huh?" Hu Dagen was taken aback. He listened intently for a moment but heard nothing. He looked at the barely breathing Niu Baolai with pity. "Are you... dreaming?"

"I really heard it..."

Hu Dagen turned to look at everyone, but they all shook their heads and sighed.

“They’ve come to rescue us…” Niu Baolai murmured.

"Sigh..." Hu Dagen glanced at the direction of the sea and sighed heavily.

"We... head east, into the mountains."
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(End of this chapter)