The expressions of everyone present changed. They looked in the direction where the spear came from, and then they saw Ma Shao staggering in the rain.
"What are you going to do?" The man guarding the tent was frightened by the spear.
"Of course I want you not to kill the prisoners..." Ma Shao staggered over, picked up his spear again and leaned on the ground to avoid falling into the mud.
"Boom…"
The atmosphere was solemn, no one was talking, and the only sounds in the air were thunder and rain.
He didn't know if it was an illusion, but Ma Shao felt as if smoke was coming out of his forehead, as if the rain was being evaporated by his high fever.
He had a severe fever and had run out in the rain, so he was extremely weak.
He even felt that every cell in his body was fighting against his brain, trying to make him lie down.
Ma Shao leaned on his spear and spoke slowly in a tone as if he was speaking his last words: "You should know what I have always thought... Although I never show mercy on the battlefield, at any time, I always hope that the natives can unite, just as Tecumseh advocated."
"Over the past three hundred years, the indigenous people have lost nine-tenths of their population. Rather than saying we are the descendants of our ancestors, we are the remnants of our ancestors."
"We must gather our remaining forces as quickly as possible, whether we are Apaches, Navajos, Arapahos, Cheyennes... We can always tell one another apart, but the white man and the plague will never tell us apart."
"What we really need is... survival."
Ma Shao was out of breath after speaking for a while, so he could only hold the spear tighter: "We have already completed our revenge on the battlefield yesterday. Now it is time to reconcile... Look at our former enemies, the Arapaho. They have the same skin color as us. Ten thousand years ago, the two tribes must have been brothers."
Strictly speaking, all ethnic groups can be traced back to a common ancestor.
But obviously, now is not the time to talk about the great unity of all mankind, and Indians now should not be the advocates of the great unity of mankind.
Only the winner is qualified to be the initiator.
In the 19th century, white people may have been qualified, but unfortunately, they were still immersed in the pleasure of conquering cities and territories, and the colonial world was in full swing. Or perhaps, they were not the real winners, and the real winners were still asleep.
The only thing Indians have to do now is to desperately grab the wheel of history before being crushed, and then climb aboard and get a seat.
Ma Shao's words moved some people, but more people disagreed.
If the person who said this was someone else other than Ma Shao, he would have been driven away long ago, or even treated as a traitor.
That is Ma Shao. As the hero who had just led his people to a legendary victory, most people were at least willing to listen to him finish his words.
Even so, some people are still extremely dissatisfied with his remarks.
"Are you stopping my revenge?" the tent guard panted. He was certainly not sick, but his anger made him pant violently. He felt that Ma Shao was deliberately against him.
"I'm not targeting you, Chief... I also stopped myself from taking revenge." Ma Shao felt that the conflict between him and the tent guard seemed irreconcilable. "You know, my father also died in the battle with the Arapaho."
"I don't care!" the tent keeper shouted, "Today I will kill Crow and all the Arapaho people here!"
Ma Shao was silent for a while, and finally said: "Then I can only choose to stop you."
The man guarding the tent was almost fainted from anger. The rain entered his lungs along with his gasping breaths, causing him to cough violently: "You! Cough cough—cough!"
He was finally so angry that he instructed the tribesmen behind him, "Kill him!"
All the tribesmen suddenly became panicked, at a loss, and talked a lot.
"The Great Chief wants to kill the War Chief?"
"What should we do? Should we obey the order..."
"No, I will never kill Teacher Ma Shao!"
Most of the Apaches in the plains tribes were members of the pistol unit and students in the literacy class. The horse whistles were their instructors, teachers and best commanders.
After yesterday's epic victory, Ma Shao's status in their hearts is only higher than that of the Great Chief.
Seeing that the tribesmen hadn't made any movement for a long time, the guarding the tent became even more furious and lost his mind: "What are you doing? I order you to kill Ma Shao, kill this traitor. He is no longer the war chief of the Plains Tribe! Kill him!"
Chief Oak of the Chiricahua tribe came over and said, "Guard the tent, don't be so impulsive. They are just some Arapaho captives. Why should we kill each other for this?"
"Yes, this is too much." The chiefs of the Mescalero and Jicarilla tribes also came to persuade.
But the tent guard could no longer hear any persuasion, and he shouted, trembling all over, "I have the final say over the Plains Tribe. Kill him! Now!"
Seeing this, Ma Shao knew that he had no way to retreat, so he took a deep breath, turned the spear over, and stabbed the ground with the spear handle!
Probably a coincidence.
Just as his spear hit the ground, an unprecedented thunder suddenly sounded in the sky.
"BOOM—BOOM!"
The thunder seemed to tear the sky apart, its momentum was several times greater than before, and accompanied by dazzling lightning, everyone present was shocked.
Moreover, for the next half minute, the sky was filled with violent thunder, and terrifying lightning bolts crisscrossed the dome.
Seeing this scene, not to mention the other Indians, even Ma Shao himself couldn't help but have a little doubt in his heart: Could it be that there really is a transcendent existence secretly helping him...
However, Ma Shao did not hesitate.
When the spear fell to the ground, his resolute and even fierce shout, along with the thunder in the sky, reached everyone's ears: "If anyone is killed today, I will be among them!"
At this moment, he was indeed determined to die - the worsening fever made him worry that today might be the end of his life.
If this was true, he would never be willing to accept it, after all, he had not yet changed the fate of the Indians.
So he decided to stop the massacre at all costs. He didn't want to die as just an Apache war chief who defeated the Arapaho.
After the words fell, there was no other sound in everyone's ears except the roar of thunder.
"Boom boom—"
Everyone was shocked, not only because of the thunder in the sky, but also because of Ma Shao's crazy declaration.
Thousands of people had gathered around, and among them, the most shocked was not the man guarding the tent or the rainy day, but the crow standing behind the horse whistle.
In fact, the crow's mind was completely empty, leaving only the scene before him.
Of course he recognized Ma Shao, because it was this man who captured him alive yesterday.
He never expected that one day later, the young war chief who had captured him alive would do such a thing, holding a spear in a thunderstorm and defending the captured Arapaho to the death.
"Boom boom—"
There were still thunders in the sky, and the bright lightning shone down, as if freezing the scene before our eyes.
Crow stared at Ma Shao, the Apache war chief who stood between him and the guards of the tent.
He knew that this majestic figure, who seemed like the incarnation of thunder, would be forever imprinted in his heart and the hearts of all the Arapaho captives, indelibly.