Chapter 637 The Sorrow of North America (asking for monthly votes at the end of the month)

Chapter 638: The Wail of the North American Continent (please vote for me at the end of the month)

A black officer in a white uniform looked at Booker's expression, hesitated, and finally said loudly: "Great Hogan, we should avoid these white troops, they are too numerous. Enter South Carolina. Mountains or retreating to the west are the best options.”

The "Horgan" he is talking about is the great wizard of Voodoo, which is the religious position Booker currently holds.

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Booker glanced at him coldly, gave him the telescope in his hand, pointed hard at the U.S. military camp, and gritted his teeth: "I can't leave them behind."

The officer did not comply. He knew that there were more than 200 black people hanging in the plantations where white people were stationed - he had seen it from a closer distance when he led a reconnaissance team yesterday.

Those black people were probably preparing to defect to the Booker movement, but they were captured before they left the South Carolina area. Then the US military tied their wrists and hung them from tree branches.

These people had been hanging for three days. At least one third of them were dead, but hundreds of others were still struggling in pain.

The white men deliberately hung them in front of the camp so that they could be easily seen from their side.

Booker walked around anxiously, then suddenly turned around and grabbed the officer's collar: "I have been hung like that before, and I know how painful it is! I swore to the spirit of nature that I would make all black people Stop suffering like that and kill all the white people who torture us.

"The spirits of nature saved me and I did not die. Now, I must save them too!"

The surrounding black soldiers immediately roared: "Kill all the white people!"

"Save the victims!"

Booker looked around at the soldiers around him with satisfaction and said loudly: "The ancestors will protect us! The spirits of nature will guide us!"

The soldiers fell to the ground in obeisance and repeated his prayers.

Booker let go of the officer and said in a deep voice: "Anson, I will lead people to attack from the south side. You take advantage of the chaos to sneak into the plantation to rescue people. Then, we will retreat to the mountains to the north."

Anson glanced in the direction of the American camp and finally nodded calmly: "Yes, the great Hogan."

At two o'clock in the afternoon, Booker led 2,600 soldiers and circled the right flank of the American army.

Many of his team also carried machetes - it wasn't that they didn't have flintlock guns, but they didn't know how to use them. Half a month ago, they were growing cotton under the whip of the plantation owners, but now they resolutely launched an attack on the slave owners for the freedom of themselves and their compatriots.

Brigadier General Anthony Wayne, the commander-in-chief of the "American Legion", quickly received the report from the cavalry, but with a smile on his face, he turned around and issued a series of orders to several officers.

Before Booker's attack even started, he was met with a head-on sniper attack by the elite First Infantry Regiment of the U.S. Army and three militia regiments.

Booker chanted voodoo prayers and fought with the Americans like a wild beast.

But before long, American cavalry appeared behind him.

Anson heard gunshots from the north and immediately rushed to the plantations near the border with more than 1,500 soldiers.

Just when he could already see the faces of the hung black slaves, intensive gunfire suddenly erupted from all around.

The slaves who had been hung for three days ended their pain instantly and were beaten to a bloody pulp.

At the same time, six to seven thousand American troops gathered from all directions to the beat of drums.

The battle continued until dusk, and Anson's men were wiped out. None of these black soldiers surrendered. Despite the huge disparity between the enemy and ourselves, they still desperately took away the lives of more than 300 American soldiers.

And Booker's side was also extremely tragic.

The veterans he brought from Santo Domingo bravely stopped the American cavalry and even captured many horses.

In the end, under their cover, Booker led the remaining 500 people to break out of the siege of the US military.

The remnants of Booker's troops joined the 800 soldiers responsible for the response. After learning that Anson had been killed in the battle, they had no choice but to flee westward. With the Americans behind him in hot pursuit, Booker followed the previous instructions of "the Duke of Leeds' men" and crossed the Savannah River on the southwest side of Georgia and entered the territory of the Altamaho Indian tribe.

Early the next morning, Booker met the envoy of Oltamaho chief Opemike Hoboeser.

After the latter learned that Booker was fighting the Americans, he immediately entertained them very warmly. Not only did they send food and tents, but they also sent tribal warriors to patrol along the Savannah River to prevent sudden attacks by the Americans.

Another day later, in the rebel camp.

Booker kicked a black soldier who was groaning from his injuries and shouted: "Quiet, you useless guy!"

The surrounding moans suddenly became much quieter.

Then, Booker saw the wound on the soldier's abdomen, frowned immediately, and made a "cut" gesture to the guard behind him.

The guard immediately pulled out his dagger and stabbed the wounded soldier in the chest. The latter struggled for a moment and soon became silent.

Booker walked among the soldiers, executing thirty or forty wounded soldiers without hesitation along the way - with the injuries of these people, they would only live for three to five days at most, but they would become a burden to the army.

Just then, a black officer came with two Indians.

The Indian with the red feather on his head politely saluted Booker: "Commander, the chief has prepared a banquet for you, I hope you can come to attend."

Booker is very smart. During this time in the United States, he can roughly understand English. He bowed and returned the greeting: "Thank you, Chief Hopoase, I will definitely attend the banquet."

Soon, Booker led more than a dozen officers and a small group of Indians on horseback to the settlement where the chief was.

After walking for more than an hour, Booker suddenly saw a group of sturdy creatures with double horns on their heads grazing leisurely on the hills in the distance.

"What is that?"

An Indian said casually: "It's a bison, commander."

Booker was immediately attracted by the free and tranquil feeling of the animal. On a whim, he squeezed the horse's belly and ran towards the bison, wanting to see them up close.

When the cattle saw someone approaching, they immediately turned around and ran away.

Booker chased after them, all the way over the top of the hill. Just as he was about to look down at the cattle, he was suddenly stunned - the other side of the hill turned out to be an endless cotton field.

He hurriedly took off the telescope from the saddle and looked, and saw countless black slaves bending over to sow cotton, and next to them stood dozens of ferocious Indians waving whips...

Savannah River.

Several American officers rode side by side, and one of them, a middle-aged colonel, looked across the river and frowned:

"General Wayne, I can't believe that we have to cooperate with those lowly Indians."

Brig. Wayne smiled: "If it can solve the riots of blacks, why not?"

"To be honest, I hate those barbaric guys. They killed many of us."

"That's right." Wayne nodded, "So after the cooperation, you can do whatever you want."