I'm the Dauphin in France

Chapter 1290 Overkill
According to Arnold's experience, as long as one keeps a distance from the forest and sets up a defensive line of several hundred people on the wasteland, one can effectively deal with the Indians' sneak attacks.

However, what he didn't expect was that the Native Americans he encountered this time were somewhat different.

Through the smoke in the forest, the little tortoise quickly saw the Americans beginning to retreat. It immediately let out a rapid "whoosh" sound and jumped down from the tree.

The surrounding Indian captains followed suit with various whistles, and Indian soldiers within a 1.5-kilometer radius emerged from the bushes upon hearing the commotion.

The little tortoise was the first to emerge from the bushes, and 1700 Native Americans continued to gather around him.

On either side and behind their ranks, more than 80 French veterans helped the captains maintain distance from the enemy to prevent them from accidentally entering American firing range.

In reality, the American troops were retreating in disarray at this time, and no one noticed the Native American legion behind them.

More than ten minutes later, the little turtle shouted the slogan "Eliminate the heretics" and gave the order to attack.

The Indian soldiers yelled "Orororo!" and charged toward the American troops in a skirmish formation typical of Indians.

Yes, Napoleon taught them how to use muskets in traditional formations, which meant they were no longer limited to relying solely on spears and hand axes to launch large-scale attacks.

The massive Indian soldiers approached in unison to within sixty or seventy paces of the American left flank, then stopped at the sound of Little Turtle's whistle and began to fire.

Although their firepower density could not match that of a line formation firing simultaneously, this time they were at least continuously unleashing firepower at a suitable distance. The American troops on the other side, who had not yet set up a line formation, had men being shot down almost every second.

Arnold never expected that the Indians could organize a "scattergun" attack of over a thousand men, so he hadn't prepared any covering forces. Seeing several battalions of soldiers fleeing in panic, his mind went completely blank.

Soon, the left wing of the US forces withdrew 300 feet as he ordered, but they did not stop and continued to surge toward the center of the battlefield, driven by the little turtles.

The American infantry lines responsible for the main battle were immediately thrown into chaos by the large number of fleeing soldiers. Some even fled westward in fear upon hearing that their left flank had been routed by "countless" Native Americans.

On a hill beside the Mississippi River, Napoleon put away his binoculars and said to Major Brasser, "Let's launch a full-scale counterattack; the enemy is already in disarray."

"Yes, Commander!"

A few minutes later, a loud bugle call rang out from the French positions, and the drummers of each company immediately stepped forward and quickened their drumming.

The French army, numbering just over 1400 men, rapidly approached the American forces in a perfectly standard line formation.

Meanwhile, the American soldiers on the defensive line were crammed together, and even if some elite companies wanted to return fire, their vision was obstructed by their own retreating soldiers, making it impossible for them to fire properly.

As dense bursts of fire erupted from the French lines, the Americans on the other side cried out in agony and fell to the ground. The few remaining soldiers who were still holding their ground began to drop their weapons and turn to flee.

Before long, the main French force on the front lines joined up with the Indian legions to the east. Napoleon ordered a thousand European soldiers to assist Macquart in dealing with the American cavalry on the left flank, while leaving the pursuit entirely to the Indians.

Three Fires led 1400 Native American soldiers in the central army, along with Little Turtle's more than 1700, emitting eerie cries as they slaughtered the retreating American troops like demons. These Native American soldiers all carried flintlock muskets on their backs and took out their ancestral short spears—things that were several times more effective than muskets in pursuit.

Every now and then, someone would draw a hand axe from their waist and throw it skillfully at the Americans in front of them, then step forward a few paces, pull the axe off the corpse, and shout as they continued the chase.

As dusk approached, the French army had pursued them to the east side of Baton Rouge before reluctantly stopping.

Inside the French camp, French and Spanish soldiers and Indians were excitedly discussing the day's battle, occasionally bursting into excited laughter.

On the west side of the camp, Napoleon personally inspected the captured cannons, while Major Brasser reported: "Commander, today we have captured nearly 500 enemy soldiers, including Wayne's cavalry commander, Green."

Napoleon frowned: "Only 500 men?"

Brasser said somewhat awkwardly, "Well, you know, native soldiers don't have the habit of capturing enemies..."

He put it rather tactfully, but the truth is that the Native Americans had long been driven out and massacred by the Americans, creating a deep-seated hatred. Especially the Native Americans in the Northwest, where Little Turtle lived, were directly driven from their homes by the Americans. After this major victory, how could they possibly leave any survivors?
The 500 men captured by the French army were almost all from the fighting on the left flank by European soldiers such as Makar.

“They violated military discipline,” Napoleon said, shaking his head. “Let it go this time. But what about the number of enemy soldiers killed?”

"The count hasn't been completed yet, Commander," Brasser said helplessly. "From the wasteland where we launched our counterattack to here, there are corpses all along the way, making it difficult to count them all."

Napoleon sighed, continued to inspect the cannons, and ordered, "Have Captain Otto continue the pursuit, but do not overtake Amit. The rest of you return to Baton Rouge to rest. We will depart for Tohomme in three days."

“Yes, Commander,” Brasser replied, then asked with a hint of doubt, “Are we going to reclaim the land of the Creek tribe?”

Tohome is in eastern Alabama, where further east lies the homeland of the Creek and Coveta tribes.

“No, we’re going to Huntsville.” Napoleon stroked the inner wall of the cannon barrel and said with dissatisfaction, “The Americans’ craftsmanship is too poor. This cannon’s range is probably only slightly longer than an eight-pounder.”

"Huntersville?" Brasser was clearly surprised by the name. They were nearing the south-central United States; continuing east would lead to Georgia.

Napoleon straightened up and dusted off the gunpowder ash from his hands. "Yes, we're going to get into the Cumberland Gap from there."

Brasser quickly tried to dissuade him, saying, "Commander, I'm afraid we can't guarantee logistical support. Besides, if we move away from the Mississippi River and Wayne launches another attack on New Orleans..."

“You need not worry,” Napoleon said as he walked toward the wounded soldiers’ camp. “Mayor Harjo and his nephew returned to southern Alabama a month and a half ago. There are still many Native American villages there, enough to supply us for two or three months.”

The so-called Mayor Harjo was the former chief of the Creek tribe. After Louisiana settled there, he was appointed mayor by the colonial governor.

(End of this chapter)