The sunset falls on the shore of Warrior Lake, illuminating the land of Tamaulipas in the Huastec language, which is the "place divided by mountains", in a gorgeous and vast way.
In fact, this is the junction of three major terrains: the Huastec jungle along the coast to the south, the Tlaxcala wilderness divided by mountains to the west, and the end of the North American Great Plains to the north. Judging from the open and flat terrain, this land of red crows, full of hunting tribes, should be more like the North American Great Plains. The vast plains are spread with continuous sparse trees and long grass, extending to the far north.
Chihuaco, an old militiaman, looked at the sunset and the vast land, and spoke softly, clenching his fingers tightly.
"Chippawa... arrived at Otter City, and you... just left? You... didn't stay with me for a while?"
"Yes! Uh... dad... that..."
The wasteland warrior Chipawa scratched his head, with a bit of sadness on his face, but he still nodded in reply.
"Dad! I also want to spend more time with you... But Sister Alan said that after the autumn, we will continue the Northern Expedition... It is already July. It will take more than a month to go back and forth to Otter City, and it will be September! Then we need to tidy up and train the tribal warriors in the team, and then we have to go north to conquer!... Time is very tight..."
"The Northern Expedition after the Autumn... another war..."
The old militiaman was silent for a while, looking at his son's eager expression, and finally he could only sigh.
"Okay! Have a good sleep today... We will set off early tomorrow morning..."
Night bids farewell to the camp and morning brings sunshine. Alan stood at the door of the camp, wearing a cold silver mask and carrying a long bow. She pursed her lips and looked at the rising sun in the far east, and at the people in the longship sinking into the hill to the east of the camp. Then, she turned around and looked at the vast plains to the north, with a burning fire in her chest.
"Bravo River...the tribes of Koahuik...after the autumn harvest, I will make you all surrender!"
The hills by the Warrior Lake are still green, and the kingdom's longships are docked on the shore. Compared with the canoes that come and go, they are as big as crocodiles in a school of fish.
Priest Mecat lowered his head, walked through the farmland by the river, boarded the somewhat dilapidated longboat, and thought about everything about the Red Crow tribe. Chihuaco, an old militiaman, stood on the bow of the boat, watching the dog-born and the sailors paddling the oars along the dozens of miles of northern shore of the lake toward the Heron River in the east. The final return journey in this long exploration is finally near!
"God bless you! Captain Qi, we will go east to the mouth of the Heron River first, and then go south to Otter City. This section of the sea route is about more than 600 miles. From Otter City, we will follow the Huastek Coast to the Crow City of the Silver Crow Tribe. Sailing about five hundred miles..."
The long boat rowed, and Priest Mecat stopped thinking. He approached the old militiaman, took another look at the accompanying canine warriors, and lowered his voice.
"The Kingdom has not yet explored the Huastek Coast, which is more than a thousand miles away. We can record the hydrology, topography and tribes along the coast in detail... which should be used in the future..."
"Huh? Oh..."
Hearing this, the old militiaman raised his eyebrows and understood what Priest Mekart had not finished saying. He sighed again and nodded.
"Okay! You really don't have to be too anxious about this section of the row back... God bless you!"
"Blessed by the Lord God! The Silver Crow Chief of Crow City is relatively reliable and has a secret alliance with the Kingdom... After arriving in Crow City, we should be able to successfully contact the Kingdom's army that is conquering the Totonak tribes!... That's right! Crow City produces asphalt for ship repairs. We will stay there for a few days and repair the ship a little. When the kingdom's reply arrives, giving His Majesty's location, we will continue paddling south..."
Speaking of this, Priest Mecat held the amulet around his neck, with uncontrollable excitement on his face.
"Praise the Lord God! Praise Your Majesty! We brought back news about the Cuban Snake Island, the Mayan tribes, the surrounding areas of Hidden Serpent City, and the Land of the Red Crow... Your Majesty must be waiting for us! And we will definitely remember it during our exploration trip. Enter history, be engraved on the stone tablet of Sunway University, and be sung as an epic!…”
"Wow! This voyage is finally completed...and I can survive and even find my son!...It's really..."
The old militiaman pursed his lips and stared at the Chippawa rowing on the boat. His heart was filled with mixed emotions, and his eyes seemed to be filled with sand again. He turned his head, thinking about the cassava and tung oil trees he had brought back from Cuba, and how he had to tell his blind majesty. That is a good thing to save people, so we must plant it everywhere!
The morning sun is rising, and the water of the flat lake is shining brightly. The farmland beside the lake is lush and green, and herons circle and sing in the sky. Chihuaco, an old militiaman, stood on the long boat that was going away. He finally looked at the green hills, looked at the invisible graves, imagined the scene of lush tung oil trees, and felt inexplicably yearning for it...
"What a great place! It would be great if I could be buried here!"
The old militiaman wiped his eyes, looked at Chippawa who looked excited, and asked in a deep voice.
"Is that mountain top coming?"
"Ah? Oh! It's coming! ... Sister Alan gave it to me, and it will belong to our family from now on."
"Um…"
The old militiaman nodded, thought for a while, and gave serious instructions.
"Good son! From now on, you will repair the tomb on the mountain every year..."
"Huh? Repairing a grave?...Dad?"
"Take care of all the trees again!"
"Huh? You still have to take care of the tree?...Ah! It's so troublesome..."
Hearing this, the old militiaman raised his eyebrows. This trip to the Northland seemed to have given him a touch of the wilderness. He reached out his big hand, grabbed Chippawa's ears, and roared.
"Did you hear that?!"
"…heard it!"
"Swear to me!"
"Ugh! Witness the ancestors!...I must repair my father's grave! Otherwise...or else I won't be able to give birth to a baby!"
"Ah? You idiot! I'll beat you to death!..."
The long boat drifted away, the oars paddled, and headed for the final homeward journey. The lively shouts floated by the calm Warrior Lake and were submerged in the rising waves. It was an early morning by the Warrior Lake, and a long boat was leaving under the rising sun.
At the same moment, seven thousand miles to the northwest, the rising sun in the east illuminates the towering Sierra Nevada Mountains, casting long shadows! This majestic mountain range with an average altitude of 3,000 meters and extending for 1,400 miles forms a rough and long mountain wall, which isolates the terrible cold wave blowing from the northeast and protects the west side of the mountain range, which extends for more than 1,000 miles and is wide. The warm Bay Area is more than two hundred miles away.
This warm land protected by mountains can withstand most cold waves. It is the fertile soil that countless tribes dream of in the cruel and cold North American continent! In fact, the tribes who settled in this warm land, whether they were the Paiute, the Shoshone, or the Miwokan-speaking people, The Miwok people, the Yokut people who speak the Yokut language...all call this warm land "home"!
In the middle of the "home" of this long and narrow bay area, there is a naturally warm deep-water harbor. The 800-meter-high Tamalpais volcano stands on the north shore of the natural harbor like a sleeping guard. In the mouth of the local Miwok tribe, this mountain is called "West Mountain, the Mountain of the Coast." And the location of this mountain is Tamal, the "West Coast"!
At this moment, under the light and shadow of the mountains, in the warm harbor, and under the watchful eyes of the Walker tribe more than a thousand meters on the shore, a truly huge fleet is about to set sail again!
