The cavalry squad stopped because the Mongols gave up pursuit and retreated into their camp.
It looked like they were preparing to break camp and run away. There was chaos in the camp as herdsmen were busy gathering their cattle and sheep.
"Boss, they have retreated, what should we do?" Qin Zheng asked.
"Half of the casualties were lost in the first fight. What else can we do if we don't retreat?" Shen Ting said.
There were still about twenty survivors lying there in the wild, wailing. These Mongolians are also very cruel and just abandon them.
An Sanxi looked at the tribe's camp. There are more than 300 people inside, and many women can shoot bows and arrows. It is impossible for a person like me to rush in.
"Spread out, three groups, surround on three sides, keep a safe distance, and shoot coldly." An Sanxi quickly made a decision.
The camp on the grassland didn't even have fences, it was just a piece of felt, because there was only grass on the grassland and not many trees, so it was impossible to hold back the horses.
And such a felt bag cannot stop lead bullets at all. It's the same as not having any cover.
The guard team immediately divided into three groups, went around and surrounded the camp on three sides.
The effective range of the cavalry flintlock carbine can reach 80 meters, and it can completely suppress bows and arrows at a distance of 50 to 60 meters.
Both humans and horses are protected by stab-proof suits. Don't be afraid of the opponent shooting arrows. Shoot whenever you see a human figure.
If the opponent chases them out, they will use short fire muskets to deal with them.
As soon as the cavalry arrived, scattered gunshots rang out. Although it no longer has the same momentum as before, this kind of cold gun is even more deadly.
An Sanxi had the intention of training his troops and did not want to deal with them all at once. Only sparsely.
A Mongolian driving a horse was shot in the head with the sound of a gunshot. He fell off his horse without saying a word and was trampled to pieces by the horses running behind him.
An old man hid behind a felt bag and shot an arrow. The arrow hit a cavalryman, but the arrowhead made of animal bones was very rough and bounced away without any effect.
Then the cavalry discovered him and fired directly at his hiding position. The felt bag had no effect at all. The lead bullet penetrated directly and hit his shoulder. The huge impact knocked him to the ground.
The old man couldn't use his arm anymore, so he threw away his bow and arrow, covering his wound and wailing.
The people in the camp were so frightened that they lay on the ground, or got into the livestock, or crawled under the belly of the livestock to avoid the musket fire.
An Sanxi watched with a satisfied smile as he watched someone get hit every two or three gunshots.
These little brats need enemies like this that are not too strong to train their psychological qualities.
As long as you get used to fighting on the battlefield, you will soon be able to fight them head-on with the Mongols.
"Boss, what do they mean?" Wang Peng pointed at a man who came out of the camp with rag strips and metal barrel bells all over his body and said.
An Sanxi looked carefully and found that the person was a woman about thirty years old. Her face was covered with ferocious tattoos, which was very scary.
The clothes on his body were all strips of cloth, and he was holding a deer antler stick in one hand.
An Sanxi lost his voice and said: "Shaman!"
Unexpectedly, such a small tribe actually has a shaman.
It seemed that his hunting tactics were working. After losing more than a dozen warriors, the tribe couldn't bear it anymore. Shamans were sent to negotiate.
"Blow the trumpet and withdraw the troops," An Sanxi ordered decisively.
The grassland has its own rules. An Sanxi has lived on the grassland for many years, and he respects the rules on the grassland.
Shaman, a special religion that has been wandering for five thousand years. They have been around the world since prehistoric times.
To this day, the movements and tones of the dance masters from the three eastern provinces are almost exactly the same as the shamanic rituals in Tierra del Fuego, Argentina.
Five thousand years ago, the Scythians on the Ukrainian steppes spread their shamanic beliefs throughout the steppes of Eurasia.
From Norway to Sakhalin, it even spreads across North and South America.
They finally breathed a sigh of relief when they saw that these horse thieves in colorful clothes and with ridiculously powerful firearms also respected the shaman.
As long as you can communicate, you can talk and see what they want. If the fight continues, all grown men will die. The tribe is doomed.
The cavalry squads lined up neatly in horizontal lines, watching the shaman walking away in silence.
Behind him, the survivors of the tribe, including those supporting the elderly and the young, all came out. They were not going to resist any longer. Because their faces have been killed by a stray bullet.
An Sanxi got off his horse and straightened his straight military uniform. Signaling everyone not to move. A man walked towards the shaman.
The grassland fell silent at this moment. In the distance, tribesmen gathered together, and there were three hundred people in the dark place.
In the middle are Shaman and Ansanxi standing opposite each other. Not far behind is a cavalry squad with vigilant guns.
"Are you Mongolians or Han Chinese?" the shaman asked.
An Sanxi looked at her carefully. If it weren't for the terrifying tattoos on her face, she would be a mature and sexy woman with a beautiful face and skin as white as milk.
The facial features are deep, and he looks like he has mixed blood with people from the Western Regions. Flax hair, hanging down.
"Nai Renba'er" An Sanxi said calmly.
This is a special name, a Mongolian name given to him by the nobleman back then.
"I am Han but grew up in Mongolia. I am the personal guard of a noble person who is a descendant of the golden family of the Tumut tribe." An Sanxi said in Chinese.
The shaman was in awe and saluted him. This is a very high status on the grassland, especially for these small tribes with low status.
"Noble sir, what do you want to gain by attacking us?" the shaman asked.
"Lin Dan, the Great Khan, abandoned the thousands of years of faith on our grasslands, accepted the Tibetan religion, burned the shaman's sacred objects, and drove the shamans everywhere. The herdsmen lost their faith. I and my partners want to restore the grassland order."
The shaman was shaking with excitement. Since Lin Dan Khan promoted Lamaism on the grasslands and suppressed shamans, a large number of shamans were expelled, and shaman supplies and sacred objects were burned in public.
Now all the shamans on the grassland have gone underground. Protected and hidden by the people at the bottom and small tribes.
Currently, those who believe in Lamaism are the Great Khan, the Little Khan, Taiji and the Shepherd. The majority of Mongolians still believe in shamans who have been passed down for thousands of years.
Historically, under the attack of the nobles, the shamans on the grassland completely broke with the upper class of Mongolia.
A large number of shamans turned to join the slaves, and this migration of shamans eastward lasted for more than fifty years. The shamans used all the power accumulated over hundreds of years to help the Qing Dynasty to attack Mongolia.
They had an in-depth understanding of Mongolia's internal affairs, so that the Manchus were well aware of everything that happened in Mongolia.
Huang Taiji relied on the help of shamans to completely annex Monan Mongolia in just a dozen years. Expand the land to the entire north of the Great Wall.
