America 1883: The Western Homeland

Chapter 18 Temporary Meeting

"Tom!" James called to him from his horse, with Wade beside him.

"What?" Tom asked his father.

"Put a saddle on the loach."

"Where are you going?"

James looked into the distance: "Shay is calling a meeting."

"Us?" Tom glanced at Wade with a puzzled look.

Wade nodded: "The captain sent me to call for backup."

Tom was inwardly hesitant, but outwardly remained calm: "Okay!"

"loach!"

The loach, which had just rolled around in the mud, suddenly darted out at the sound, leaving mud splattered all the way, and landed precisely in front of Tom.

Looking at the "mud monkey" covered in mud, Tom resignedly put on the saddle.

He mounted the saddle, gritting his teeth: "Just you wait, I'll polish you until you shine!"

The loach let out a joyful cry that echoed through the sky.

James spurred his horse forward and set off.

Wade followed closely behind.

Tom, who was lagging behind, yanked hard on the reins.

"Slow down! We're not in a hurry!"

But the moment the reins were loosened even slightly, the loach darted away with a "whoosh"!

Man and mule became one, leaving only a blurry afterimage.

James felt a gust of wind pass by, and the man and the mule were already galloping ahead.

He urged his horse to catch up, his shout ripped apart by the wind: "Slow down!"

The mudskipper didn't care about any of that. Its hooves thundered like drumbeats, and in the blink of an eye, it rushed to Captain Shay's tent.

"No rush!" Captain Shay, with a pipe in his mouth, calmly tossed a piece of firewood into the campfire.

Could Tom say that his stubborn mule was just frolicking after dinner? He silently found a place to sit down.

"Have you eaten?" Thomas looked up at him.

Tom replied casually, "Um, not yet."

"There's some salted meat simmering in the pot, want some?" Thomas asked enthusiastically.

Tom's heart skipped a beat. Yesterday they were at each other's throats, and today they're as close as family? This change is too fast!

He clearly forgot that his outburst during the day had intimidated more than just Ennis.

He quickly forced a standard smile, not wanting to remain cold since the other person was being so polite: "No, my family is waiting!" Tom politely declined with a smile.

His gaze swept over Joseph beside him, who reacted as if burned, quickly forcing a stiff smile: "You're here?"

Tom nodded in agreement, but he wondered to himself: Strange, why is Joseph so afraid of him?

Did I do something to offend him?

As soon as James and Wade arrived, Captain Shai stood in the circle of light from the campfire, his pipe gleaming a dark red glow between his fingers.

"I understand how tiring it is to hit the road for the first day." His voice wasn't loud, but it muffled the crackling of the campfire. "But we're crawling like snails! Less than ten miles?"

No one uttered a sound. Each of them knew how far they had gone.

"That won't do!" Shay said decisively. "If we want to live, we have to hurry! We'll break camp tomorrow morning!"

"What time?" The voice rang out abruptly; it was Tom.

Shay glanced at him and said nothing more: "Let's leave as soon as it's light."

These words were like a piece of ice thrown into a fire.

Tom frowned slightly, and even the usually honest Joseph's expression changed.

"No, Captain!" Joseph jumped up, his voice trembling. "Everyone's bones are all jolted and they haven't recovered yet... Besides, they're all still novices when it comes to driving..."

"There's no time to slow down!" Shay interrupted him, his voice as hard as frozen earth. "At this rate, not only in Oregon, but in winter, the whole place will be frozen solid and ready to be fed to the wolves!"

"You can practice first," Tom's voice chimed in again, as calm as if he were talking about the weather. "Once you've practiced enough, you'll naturally be faster."

Who wouldn't want to train? Shay wanted to stay at the crossroads for a few more days to train these greenhorns, but the wolves behind them... were suffocating him.

Shay glanced at him, his expression leaving no room for argument: "It's settled then!"

"We can't do that, Captain!" Joseph was truly anxious, his voice rising sharply. "We don't even know our way around; setting off in the dark is just sending everyone to their deaths!"

Shay hadn't expected Joseph to be so defiant. A cold glint flashed in his eyes, and he suddenly growled, "You think the people chasing us are good kids from Sunday school? When those rotten bastards from Fort Worth pounce on us, a noose around their necks will be the least of our worries! You won't even be able to howl properly then!"

A roar exploded in the deathly silent camp, and even the campfire seemed to dim for a moment.

The only sound was the crackling of burning wood, like the second hand of a countdown.

In the suffocating silence, Tom's voice rang out, cold and hard, as clear as a bullet being chambered:

"Stop and rest. I'll hold off the pursuers."

These words were like a spark thrown into a powder keg.

Everyone's heart skipped a beat, and even James looked up at Tom.

"You'll block me?" Shay stared at Tom, a cold smile playing on his lips. He slammed his pipe heavily on the cart shaft. "Scum from Fort Worth, blood dripping from their very bones! You think your gun's faster? They outnumber us! Outgunns us! And they're ruthless! If they really see us as easy prey, crushing us is no different than crushing ants!"

These few words, though seemingly casual, are imbued with the bloody stench and biting chill of the West.

"So, according to you," Tom retorted sharply, his eyes gleaming, "you think you can escape at that snail's pace?"

The air froze again, heavy enough to crush a camel.

"Stop and rest!" James's deep voice finally rang out, like a rock suppressing the restlessness.

He stood up, his gaze calmly meeting Shay's. "Rest and wait. It's better than being hunted like rabbits in the wild. They..." He glanced at the immigrants in the camp, "...have a lot to learn."

After saying that, James turned and walked towards his horse, his back as imposing as a mountain.

Tom followed without saying a word.

Even more surprisingly, Joseph hesitated for a moment, then lowered his head and chased after them, following closely behind.

"Tom!" Joseph caught up with Tom beside the mule, his voice urgent and low. "I...I have to apologize to you!"

Tom was about to mount the mule when he heard this, so he stopped, turned around and looked at him with a hint of probing in his eyes.

Joseph spoke rapidly, his face flushed red: "It was me...it was me who told the captain about the attack! I was scared..."

Tom looked at the flustered big guy, paused for a moment, then raised his hand and patted his strong forearm (too tall for his shoulder to reach): "You're their leader, you did the right thing."

His tone was flat, revealing no emotion.

After saying that, he grabbed the saddle and mounted the mule.

Just then!

The loach, which had been quietly chewing grass, suddenly turned around slowly on the spot, its rear end precisely facing Joseph, who was about to speak again.

then!

*Splash!*

A warm, pungent, powerful, and long-brewing torrent of liquid, without reservation, swept over Joseph's head and face, giving him a thorough and exhilarating "golden baptism"!

Tom's hands froze on the saddle, completely dumbfounded.

The loach, however, seemed to have accomplished some epic feat. It proudly raised its neck and let out a series of incredibly joyful, incredibly loud, and resounding "Awooo Awooo—!!!" victorious cries that echoed throughout the camp!

Immediately afterwards, it kicked off with its hind legs!

Whoosh-!

Carrying a still-dazed Tom, it shot into the boundless darkness like a black cannonball!

Only Joseph remained, soaking wet, dumbfounded, and exuding a strong "fragrance".

Warm liquid trickled down his forehead, nose, and chin, dripping onto the dry soil with soft "plop" sounds.

A gust of evening wind blew, and he shivered violently, completely bewildered by the wind!