1840Indian rebirth

Apache garrison, black police.

Ma Shao felt that this was not enough, and there should be some more... white hostages.

The most suitable hostages are undoubtedly minors, preferably the kind of ignorant children. Not only are they safe and harmless hostages, but when they grow up, they may even become eggmen with white skin and yellow hearts, and serve as spies.

Something like that.

In his previous life, Ma Shao was a physics teacher with excellent professional skills. Except for the chaotic first year of employment, he could always make his students achieve better results and gain respect and love for him.

Therefore, he believes that he is better than most people at shaping children's spiritual world.

"Mayor Thomas, what's your son's name?" Ma Shao asked.

When Thomas heard this, his face suddenly became horrified, and he quickly said: "Don't hurt him, please, he is just a child!"

"Wow--" His son also burst into tears, and Mrs. Thomas hugged her son tightly.

"Of course I won't hurt him. I can't even hurt you, so how can I hurt an innocent child?" Ma Shao said.

Mayor Thomas hesitated and said: "His...his name is John, John Thomas."

Ma Shao nodded: "He looks very smart. Let me be his teacher from now on."

"What!"

Ma Shao continued: "Although my English is not very good, other than that, it is no exaggeration to say that I am one of the best teachers in the world."

Of course Thomas didn't believe it and thought he was talking nonsense. He clenched his fist and said, "You can't separate me from my son!"

"Are you sure?" Ma Shao frowned and his voice became a bit colder.

Thomas was silent for a while. He looked at the Apache warriors around him and knew that he actually had no choice.

"You promise not to hurt my son?" he finally asked.

The horse whistle said: "As long as you don't hurt my soldiers."

Thomas understood that the other party wanted to use his son as a hostage in order to completely control himself and even the entire town.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but sigh.

It seems that this Indian is determined to enslave the white people in the town, and his methods are so rich and cunning that they may never get ahead!

Is this God's punishment?

God, please forgive me my sins!

At this moment, Thomas may have become the most devout Christian on the planet.

"I hope you can keep your promise." He sighed and expressed his promise.

Ma Shao: "Of course, I do what I say. But I also have to remind you that children are more likely to have accidents. If your son dies in an accident, there is nothing I can do about it."

Before the maturity of modern medicine, the abnormal mortality rate of humans remained high. Even now in 1844, death in childhood was not uncommon for children.

Thomas also knew this, so he thought for a moment and asked, "Can I visit?"

"Can."

Thomas finally nodded and said to his son in a choked voice: "Son, promise me you won't cry and be obedient after you go over there, okay?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu" Little Thomas cried.

Afterwards, Mashao selected about twenty more children, most of whom were children of wealthy families in the town. He chose wealthy families because, on the one hand, the health status of the children of wealthy families was better, and on the other hand, it was because of the influence of the rich on the town.

More powerful.

In the process, not surprisingly, there was a burst of conflicts and crying, and even a fight almost broke out.

"Bang!" A gunshot sounded suddenly.

The horse whistle heard the sound and looked over, and found that it was a white man who seemed to have taken out a rifle from nowhere. An Apache soldier saw this and went to snatch it. During the fight, the gun went off, but fortunately no one was hit.

"Don't kill him."

The horse whistle walked over and asked: "Didn't we just collect all the weapons? Where did this gun come from?"

"He seems to be a gunsmith." An Apache soldier said, "I just found more than a dozen guns in his house. They must have been missed."

Gunsmith?

Upon hearing the news, Ma Shao's eyes suddenly lit up.

Although he knows a little bit about firearms, he lacks practice after all. He can barely repair minor problems with firearms, but cannot make guns at all. As a result, he has many ideas, but his tribe is still using wheels that are equivalent to defective products.

pistol.

Now that the Walker revolver has not been released, this defective product can still show off its majesty. When Colt's design matures in the future, the weapon advantage of the Sleeping Bear clan will be wiped out in an instant.

So there is no doubt that for him, a professional who can make guns is of strategic significance.

"What's your name?" Ma Shao asked quickly.

"Don't try to separate me and my child!" The white man's face was red, and he still looked like he was fighting for his life after being held by two Apaches. "Dirty and stupid savage, I will fight with you!"

The horse whistle said: "Are you a gunsmith? If you answer truthfully, maybe I can not separate you and your child."

When the white man heard this, his emotions calmed down: "Of course, I am the best gunsmith within five hundred miles. No one knows how to make guns better than me!"

"So, what's your name?"

"William Browning."

The horse whistler couldn't help being surprised when he heard this: "Your surname is Browning?"

Browning!

It can be said that this name is familiar to everyone. Not to mention gun enthusiasts, even those who have watched some war movies will be familiar with it.

John Moses Browning, one of the most outstanding gunsmiths.

Of course, this big shot was active in the late 19th century, and he was either still young or not yet born. Therefore, Ma Shao wondered whether the gunsmith named Browning in front of him could be Browning's father.

After all, as far as he knew, Browning's father was indeed a gunsmith, but his name was unclear.

He took a look at William Browning's children, two daughters, one older and one younger.

Hmm... It seems that he may have overthought it. This person just had the same surname and was not the father of the later Master Browning.

Although it probably has nothing to do with the real Browning, Ma Shao still hopes that this person can be worthy of this surname.

"Mr. Browning, as long as you are willing to make guns for me, I will not break up your family." Ma Shao said, "And I will pay you according to the market price."

This does not sound like a harsh condition, and considering that the demand from Indians should be considerable, this can even be considered a good business.

"Really?" Browning couldn't believe it.

Ma Shao smiled: "Of course, I am not a barbarian. I understand the 'contract spirit' you often talk about very well."