North America 1849, from Gold Rush to Warlord

Chapter 118 Show Hand! (5,000 words)
It has to be said that compared to the other relatively inexperienced foreign girls, Monica is incredibly radiant!

Dislike Mengde, understand Mengde, become Mengde!

This time, I finally experienced Mengde's joy.

During this time, Ah Zu followed Feng Zicai and learned a lot about exercise techniques, and his body became stronger and stronger.

Even if he were to face Victoria now, Ah Zu wouldn't be at a disadvantage; they would fight back and forth!
A few days later, in Quincy, a small town more than 100 miles northeast of San Francisco!

This small town of just over a hundred people is located on the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. It is a gold rush town that gradually began to emerge after gold was discovered at the Sutter Mill two years ago.

For gold prospectors, this was already a very remote location. To go any further, they would have to venture deep into the Sierra Nevada Mountains, a stronghold of Native Americans and bandits, where the danger would increase exponentially.

Even on the outskirts of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, the town of Quincy is in a very dangerous location.

But often, the more dangerous the place, the higher the reward.

The river next to the town of Quincy has a very high gold content, and many who dared to pan for gold here have made a fortune.

The hundred or so people gathered in the small town of Quincy were mostly white gold prospectors and their families. The Chinese gold prospectors were all driven away and excluded.

This is a common phenomenon throughout California: all gold prospectors with yellow skin are excluded from the rich mines and can only pan for poor placer gold and tailings left over from others' panning, barely making a living from these scraps.

As usual, after a long day of hard work panning for gold, night fell, and most of the gold prospectors in Quincy gathered in the town’s only tavern to numb their tired bodies with alcohol and gambling.

"Glug...!" In the tavern, Redneck Mike took a big gulp of cheap rum and carefully glanced at his cards again.

Then, Redneck Mike, with his bloodshot eyes, stared intently at his opponent across the table.

"Old Charlie, I don't believe you have three A's!"

"Show Hand!"

Mike pushed out all the ten or so one-ounce gold bars in front of him.

"I'm all in, old Charlie, wanna call?"

Old Charlie across from me was only in his forties. He wasn't actually old; he just looked weathered from years of panning for gold in the wild.

Old Charlie clutched his trump card tightly in his hand, grinning to reveal his missing front tooth, his smile revealing a lisp.

"Hey! Redneck Mike, young people are still too impulsive!"

With that, old Charlie revealed his trump card: the Ace of Spades!
"I have three Aces, let's show hands!"

As he spoke, old Charlie pushed out all the small gold bars, each an ounce in front of him.

On the table, there was a pile of gold bars weighing over fifty ounces!

"Shit...Fuck...!"

Redneck Mike angrily threw his hole card, the Ace of Hearts, onto the table.

Mike's three Kings lost to old Charlie's three Aces!

"I have the Ace of Hearts, and you can get three Aces?"

"I don't believe you could have such good luck all night! Old Charlie, you must have cheated...!"

Old Charlie shrugged and slowly gathered all the gold bars on the table into his own hands.

"Bang!!" Redneck Mike pulled out his Colt revolver and slammed it on the table. "Old Charlie, you must have cheated! I'm going to search you!"

In a short time, Redneck Mike lost all the harvest he had made since the start of the gold rush season—a full thirty ounces of gold!

Redneck Mike, unwilling to accept this, watched helplessly as everything he owned was taken by old Charlie. How could he tolerate such a thing happening?

"Bang!" Old Charlie was not to be outdone. He drew his gun from his waist and aimed it at Redneck Mike's head!

"Mike, you sore loser, you scoundrel with no sportsmanship...!"

Redneck Mike also aimed his dark gun at old Charlie's head!

"Bang, bang, bang...!"

"Da da da, xi lu lu...!"
Just then, bursts of gunfire, the sound of hooves, and the neighing of horses rang out outside the tavern.

"Ah... Help... Help...!"

"Ah, my leg, help me...!"

"My stomach... oh... someone help me out!"

Outside the tavern, the quiet night suddenly erupted like a boiling pot, with gunshots, hoofbeats, screams, and shrieks filling the air. In an instant, the small town of Quincy was in an uproar!

"What happened...?"

The dozen or so gold prospectors inside the tavern all drew their guns and got up to go to the door to check.

Even the tavern owner took a double-barreled shotgun off the wall, found bullets under the counter, and began frantically loading it.

Only old Charlie, who had won against everyone, hurriedly stuffed all the small gold bars on the table into his pocket.

"boom……!"

The door of the tavern was suddenly kicked open, and a dappled horse led the way in!

The knight on his dappled horse, without a word, raised his Colt revolver and began firing wildly at everyone.

Behind the knight, more shadowy figures rushed in, firing wildly in all directions without uttering a single unnecessary word!
"Clap clap clap...bang bang bang...!"

An exceptionally fierce gunfight erupted in the small tavern!

Old Charlie, who had just collected the gold, was so frightened that he crawled under the table and scrambled towards the back door of the tavern!

"Fuck...Fuck...you damn Chinamen...ah!"

"Bang... Kill these damn Chinese, bang...!" The tavern owner squatted behind the bar, firing back continuously with his double-barreled shotgun.

"Oh... damn it, I've been shot...!"

"Fuck... I got shot too...!"

"Bang...bang...thud...!"

Several oil lamps in the tavern were overturned, and the spilled oil ignited, turning the almost entirely wooden tavern into a raging fire in the blink of an eye!

"Bang... Ouch, I've been shot...!"

The tavern owner was shot in the shoulder and fell behind the bar.

At this moment, old Charlie had climbed to the back door and was desperately trying to open it.

This scene was witnessed by the tavern owner who had fallen to the ground.

"Old Charlie, Old Charlie, Help me, Help me...!"

Old Charlie had already opened the back door and was about to scramble out in a panic when he heard the tavern owner's cries for help and couldn't help but turn back for a glance.

"Austin, I'm sorry...!"

Desperate to escape, old Charlie scrambled out the back door!
Leaning against the back wall of the tavern, old Charlie took a few deep, difficult breaths to calm his wildly beating heart.

Looking around and finding no enemies, Old Charlie got up and fled.

But before he could run more than a few steps, old Charlie involuntarily stopped, remembering the familiar face of Austin, the tavern owner.

"Fuck...!"

Old Charlie turned and rushed through the back door into the tavern, where a fierce gunfight was still raging and a raging fire was burning.

"Austin, Austin...!"

"I'm here……!"

Hearing the commotion, old Charlie found the tavern owner, grabbed his arm, and rushed out the back door with his head down.

Behind him came Redneck Mike's scream.

"Ah... my eyes... Fuck... Fuck you damn yellow-skinned monkeys!"

"boom……!"

The redneck microphone's voice abruptly stopped!

Ignoring everything that was happening behind them, old Charlie helped Austin, the tavern owner, and they ran headlong into the darkness.

"Horse! Quickly, go to the stable and find the horse...!"

Austin, panting, pointed in the direction of the stables.

In the darkness, old Charlie helped the injured Austin to the equally chaotic stable, where they found two horses.

Without even saddled the horses, and without any hesitation, the two of them each mounted a horse, pressed their bodies tightly against the backs, and charged out of Quincy town.

"Bang, bang, bang...!"

In the darkness behind them, countless enemies were galloping after them on horseback.

"Austin, are these damn guys really Chinese?"

Old Charlie, who was clinging to the horse's back, couldn't hold back any longer and shouted at the tavern owner.

"Yes, it's definitely those Chinamen! I saw their faces, and they all still have those damn queues...!" Queues, they're definitely damn Chinamen!

The two men spurred their horses and galloped out of the town, rushing into the wilderness in the darkness, heading towards Sacramento, dozens of miles to the southwest.

"boom……!"

But before they had run a mile, they heard a sharp gunshot from ahead!

In the dark wilderness, countless torches suddenly lit up all around!

Torches from all directions surrounded them!

They weren't the only ones surrounded; their pursuers were also behind them!
"boom……!"

"Hiss...!"

Seeing that there was no way to escape, old Charlie and Austin had no choice but to rein in their horses and bring them to a stop.

The pursuers behind them were in the same situation!

Countless torches gradually gathered around.

"They are...the Indians...!"

By the light of the torches, old Charlie could see clearly the cavalry that had surrounded him; they were all Indians carrying rifles and cannons!
"It's over, it's the Blackfoot Clan...!"

The Native Americans of California were generally not very strong or fierce in combat. Most of them lived by fishing and hunting, and were no match for the Comanche, Apache, and Sioux peoples of the North American Great Plains.

Only a few Native American tribes, such as the Blackfoot, can be considered formidable!
Tavern owner Austin had a sharper eye than old Charlie and clearly saw the distinctive diamond-shaped markings on the foreheads of the Blackfoot tribe!

"Put down your gun...!"

A cold, sharp English voice rang out from among the Blackfoot tribe members who had surrounded them!

Meanwhile, behind old Charlie and Austin, the sounds of gibberish Indians could be heard.

Faced with countless Blackfoot cavalrymen around them, old Charlie and Austin had no choice but to throw their guns to the ground.

Several Blackfoot men stepped forward, roughly dragged old Charlie and Austin off their horses, tied them up tightly, and threw them aside.

A moment later, a dozen more figures, bound tightly, were thrown around them.

"It's those damned Chinamen... Haha, they've been captured by the Blackfoot Tribe too!"

At this moment, old Charlie and Austin were still in the mood to gloat.

Most of the Blackfoot cavalry had left, leaving only a dozen or so to guard them.

Soon after, bursts of gunfire and explosions echoed from the distant town of Quincy!

"Heh heh, the Blackfoot tribe, they're at it with those damned Chinamen!"

Fifteen minutes later, the gunfire from the direction of Quincy began to gradually subside, eventually fading into silence.

However, in the direction of Quincy, flames soared into the sky, appearing particularly glaring against the dark sky.

Two or three quarters of an hour later, the Blackfoot tribe's cavalrymen returned one after another.

Behind their horses, a number of prisoners, bound tightly, were being dragged along.

A quarter of an hour later, all the prisoners, including old Charlie and the tavern owner Austin, were dragged behind the horses and driven southwest.

This night was extremely long!

Especially when being dragged behind a horse, if you slow down even slightly, you'll be pulled to the ground.

Once you fall to the ground, it's hard to get back up. You'll be constantly rubbed by hard clods of earth and stones, leaving your body battered and covered in blood!

After finally holding out until dawn, old Charlie was able to see his surroundings clearly.

Austin, who was injured, had lost too much blood and could no longer keep up with the horse. He collapsed and was dragged along the road, his fate unknown.

Among the prisoners around him, old Charlie also saw many familiar faces!
"Redneck Mike, you're still alive?"

Behind him, old Charlie saw Redneck Mike, his face covered in blood and gore.

But at this moment, Mike's hair was completely licked clean by the flames, his face was charred, and one of his eyes was blown out, making him look particularly ferocious.

"Old Charlie, you cheater, how come you're still alive?"

"Old Charlie, give me back my gold!"

Old Charlie then remembered the several dozen ounces of gold he had on him and bent down to search his pockets.

After searching for a long time, I finally found two small gold bars in my pocket!
Apart from these two, the rest of the gold bars were lost along the way.

"Still thinking about gold? Let's talk about survival first!" Old Charlie said to Redneck Mike.

After daybreak, the summer sun shines brightly, and the temperature rises rapidly.

These prisoners, being escorted away, suffered even more under the scorching sun, without food or water.

This ordeal didn't last long!
By noon, a river finally came into view.

On the river, there were two iron-hulled steamships that had been waiting there for a long time.

Under the coercion of the Blackfoot cavalry, more than a hundred prisoners were all taken to the ship and imprisoned in the dark cabin.

"Beep beep beep...!"

Once all the prisoners were on board, the iron-hulled steamship weighed anchor and set sail.

"Weren't we captured by the Blackfoot Clan? How come they have an iron-hulled steamship?"

Redneck Mike couldn't suppress his doubts and whispered to old Charlie beside him.

Old Charlie shook his head, his eyes fixed on the captured "Chinamen" opposite him.

"What happened last night was too strange!"

Old Charlie said, "I don't think those Chinese guys who raided Quincy last night were real Chinese at all!"

"Not a real Chinaman? How could that be!"

Redneck Mike said, "They're clearly yellow-skinned monkeys, and they even have braids...!"

Old Charlie said, "Indians also wear queues, but they wear them in the front, while Chinese people wear their queues at the back of their heads!"

"If these Native Americans were dressed up a little, could you tell if they were Chinese or Native Americans?"

"Gurgle...!" Hearing what Old Charlie said, Redneck Mike also realized something was wrong.

“And another thing!” Old Charlie continued, “I heard these fake ‘Chinamen’ talking to each other, and they were speaking a Native American language, not Chinese!”

Redneck Mike listened intently and, sure enough, heard these fake "Chinamen" whispering amongst themselves, all speaking in a Native American language!
"Fuck, fuck...! These fake 'Chinamen' are all Native Americans in disguise?"

Redneck Mike yelled, "Why are these damn Indians doing this?"

Old Charlie shook his head, feeling as if he had been drawn into a huge conspiracy.

A moment later, several white men carrying gas lamps entered the cabin.

A white man, holding a lamp, approached the group of fake "Chinamen," took off their hats, and spoke a few words to them in the Indian language.

Then, the white man walked among the twenty or so captured white gold prospectors and said in a deep voice, "You all saw it clearly, didn't you? The ones who attacked Quincy were all Native Americans disguised as 'Chinamen'!"

"Why are they doing this?" Old Charlie struggled to his feet. "Sir, why are the Indians working overtime for the Chinese? Why are you arresting us too?"

"Clang!" The white man holding the gas lamp pulled a short knife from his calf and used it to cut the ropes around Old Charlie's neck.

"We tied you up so you wouldn't run away!"

This white man is none other than old Martinez!
Because he spoke Native American languages, he was sent by Azu to receive these prisoners.

Old Martinez said, "You can't run away! We need you as witnesses!"

"Witness? What witness?" Old Charlie asked curiously, moving his stiff limbs.

Old Martinez untied the ropes from the captured gold prospectors one by one.

Then, the men behind him began to treat the wounded gold prospectors.

"Last night's attack on your town of Quincy was part of a huge conspiracy!"

Old Martinez said in a deep voice, "We're keeping you alive to prove that the ones who attacked you were disguised Native Americans, not Chinese. Do you understand?"

"I think I understand!"

Old Charlie finally understood and nodded heavily.

Meanwhile, Redneck Mike, now freed from his ropes, disregarded the burns on his face and the loss of one eye, and charged at a group of Native Americans, punching and kicking them.

Once someone started it, the group of gold prospectors who were still able to move all rushed forward and unleashed a barrage of attacks on the tightly bound Native American.

"stop fighting!"

Suddenly, the leader of the Indians shouted at old Martinez in his native language.

"Spare my people, and what do you want to know? I'll tell you everything!"

(End of this chapter)