The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 744 The Mongols with the tricolor flag invaded the United States!

The only decent building in Banneker was the Buffalo Horn Tavern on the hillside. John Calhoun, chairman of the peace committee, put his boots on the oak counter. The smell of whiskey mixed with various sour smells swirled in the room. He stretched out his little finger to pick his ear, and the gold ring on his little finger shone under the oil lamp: "An additional five dollars for each Chinaman."

"But sir," said Old Mike, the tavern-keeper and sheriff, pausing as he polished his copper mug, "they paid their poll tax last month."

"That's called a health tax!" Calhoun's beard twitched. "The yellow monkeys camped by the stream, making the whole town smell bad." He spat on the ground, and the spit landed at the feet of a "Chinese" gold digger who was huddled in a corner. This "Chinese" was wearing clothes with very loose sleeves and trouser legs, and had two knives, one long and one short, stuck on his belt, as well as a Colt revolver.
The back door of the tavern was suddenly kicked open, and a cowboy with a bloody face rushed in with the cold wind. Calhoun's confidant Long Legs Tom stood up with a rifle in hand: "Jimmy, is it the Blackfoot who attacked again?"

"They are not Indians!" Jimmy screamed while grabbing his half-broken left ear. "They are Mongolians! They are wearing fur coats and waving the black, red and yellow tricolor flag."

Mongols waving tricolor flags. This painting is really a bit strange!

The laughter nearly blew off the pine roof. The miners at the gambling table slapped their thighs and said, "Jimmy must have been kicked in the head by a giant deer!" Even the "Chinese" hiding behind the bar was trying to hold back their laughter - until Calhoun's Colt revolver slammed "bang" on the oak table.

In the dead silence, the tin cups hanging on the wall began to tremble slightly, then the whiskey bottles jingled, and finally the floor of the entire tavern shook like a sieve. Calhoun knew something was wrong and rushed out of the tavern and ran to the watchtower.

The morning mist had dissipated. The cavalrymen from the eastern valley were rushing over the ridge, all wearing fur coats and hoods, with foreign rifles on their shoulders! Hundreds of "black, red and yellow" tricolor flags suddenly stood up in the pine forest on the south slope, and hundreds of yurts had been set up on the northern high ground at some point. The most dazzling thing was the dozen or so 6-pound cannons mounted on the northern high ground in the morning sun!

"Open the powder magazine!" Calhoun's roar was like a cry, "Men and women, get on the wall! Quickly."

No one responded.

He looked back and found that the tower was empty, and he was the only one there - Long-legged Tom was running to the stable with a rifle, the bartender Mark was running to the hut where he hid the gold, and even the "Chinese" gold digger was rushing to the mine by the stream with a long knife in his hand.
"Run! The Mongols are coming!"

"The Mongols with tricolor flags are invading America!"

"Oh my God, the descendants of Genghis Khan are coming to America."

In a short while, the town of Banneker was in chaos.

Only Calhoun was still standing alone on the tower, watching the city's gold diggers, small businessmen, and prostitutes rushing toward the western pass like frightened rabbits.

Suddenly, Calhoun also woke up, rushed down the tower, rushed to the stable, grabbed a saddleless spotted horse, rode it and fled west.

Banneker's men had just escaped three miles when a dull horn suddenly sounded in front of them. Calhoun looked up from his horse's back and saw a wall of cavalry suddenly rising up on the western hillside - the "Mongol cavalry" had been lying in ambush there!
What's worse is that everyone of them has a gun!

With a flash of muzzle flames, the fleeing crowd fell like cut wheat on the mountain road on the eastern foot of the Rocky Mountains. Only Calhoun and three of his confidants escaped the ambush of the "Mongols". They ran wildly along the Snake River, and the strange shouts and crackling gunshots of the Indians came from behind.

When the walls of Lewiston, the capital of Idaho Territory, came into view, Calhoun and his companions shed tears of excitement as they looked at the fluttering twenty-one-star flag of the United States.
A clerk at the Lewiston Telegraph Office was dozing off when he was suddenly awakened by the shaking of the glass window. He looked up and saw four disheveled cowboys stumbling into the door. The bald man in the front raised his right hand with two broken fingers and pressed a bloody handprint on the counter: "Urgent! The Mongolian cavalry has crossed the Rocky Mountains. Send a telegram to President Lincoln. Genghis Khan's cavalry has invaded America!"

William Wallace, the newly appointed governor of Idaho Territory, almost dropped his glasses when he was chewing a cigar and reading the war report - was it possible that 20,000 or 30,000 Mongols with the "black, yellow and red tricolor flag" invaded the United States? Mongolia and the United States did not border each other!
But he soon remembered the secret tip he received last week from a businessman doing business on the Montana Trail, who said that he had seen a knight wearing a Mongolian hood in the Yellowstone River Valley. At the time, he thought it was nonsense from drinking too much California Erguotou, but he didn't expect it to be true!

"Sacramento called back!" The secretary rushed in holding a telegram. "Ten thousand California militiamen have assembled in Sacramento and will arrive in twenty days at most. But..." He swallowed, "Governor Smith of California asked if we mistook the Indian warriors for Mongolian cavalry?"

"Indian warriors? How is that possible?" William Wallace suddenly felt something was wrong. "Ten thousand California militiamen have assembled and will arrive in twenty days. Isn't that too fast?"

The gas lamps of the Federal Government Building in New York glowed dimly in the rainy night. Secretary of War Stanton drew three "blood marks" on the map with red and blue pencils: the fierce battle on the east bank of the Susquehanna River on the eastern front; the "second attack" on Manassas on the central front; Grant on the western front had just pacified Kansas City and St. Louis, but the capital of Kansas, Topeka, was suddenly attacked and captured by the "black army" led by Nicholas Zhao Si. The American Civil War was getting more and more intense!

"The intelligence we have is that General Lee will cross the river twelve hours earlier." Navy Secretary Wells shook the telegram in his hand. "The armor of the Virginia and South Carolina ironclads is stronger than we expected. Our 64-pound coastal defense guns can't destroy them at all."

Secretary of State Seward took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his bloodshot eyes: "President, it seems we need to equip ourselves with picric acid shells."

"Then let DuPont in Philadelphia find a solution quickly."

The American president's words were cut off by the sound of hurried footsteps in the corridor. John Hay, the presidential secretary, rushed in holding a telegram. This young man who had entered the center of power in the United States was like a panicked newsboy at this moment: "Urgent telegram from Idaho! Banneker was captured by 20,000 Mongolian cavalry!"

"Twenty thousand Mongols?" Treasury Secretary Chase nearly knocked over his ink bottle. "How can it be that these are Indian mercenaries hired by the Yankees?"

Lincoln looked up from the map pile and quickly took the telegram and read it carefully: "Wallace in Lewiston said they were flying a black, red and yellow tricolor flag." The president's voice was hoarse and tired, "The same flag as Zhao Si's black army!"

The President, Secretary of War Stanton, said in a worried tone, "In the past, it was difficult for the Indians to gather a thousand men, but now they can gather tens of thousands."

"Gentlemen!" Lincoln suddenly pounded the table. "Robert Lee broke through the Susquehanna River in the east with his ironclad ships, and that Nicholas Zhao Si set fire to Topeka in the west! Now there are 20,000 Mongolian or Indian cavalrymen - are our spies all blind?"

Secretary of State Seward gritted his teeth and said: "The Southerners have sold their souls to the niggers and redskins. We must let the whole United States, no, let the whole world see their true colors! They are not white supremacists at all!"

General Grant's telegram arrived at this moment. John Hay took the telegram and read it: "It has been found that the main force of Zhao Si's black army is moving along the southern foot of Yanshan Mountain, and its vanguard is only 20 miles away from Lawrence City."

Stanton showed a happy expression on his face: "It seems that Zhao Si doesn't know that Grant has 100,000 troops under his command, otherwise he would not dare to charge forward." He turned to look at Lincoln, "President, this is the best time for us to destroy the 'Black, Red and Yellow' Legion!"

Lincoln nodded: "And Zhao Si. Tell Grant that I don't want any prisoners." The president's gray beard trembled slightly. "Zhao Si's head is worth one hundred thousand federal dollars!"

As the rain gradually subsided, a new telegram came in from the telegraph office. "President," John Hay said, "It's still from Lewiston. Governor Wallace reported that California has gathered 10,000 militiamen and will be able to reach Lewiston within 20 days!"

"California." President Lincoln's face was so gloomy that it seemed like water was about to drip out of it. "They are probably in the same group as those so-called Mongols, right?"

President Seward quickly reminded, "We need the three states on the West Coast now. Once we defeat the South and build the railroad to Denver, the end of those yellow monkeys on the West Coast will come!"

Lincoln nodded and said, "Call Wallace back and ask him to accept the support of the California militia! Also, send a telegram to Grant and tell him that Zhao Si may have sent part of his troops to the Montana grasslands. Denver must be very empty now. Ask him to send out cavalry to launch a surprise attack!"

The Mississippi Army headquarters in St. Louis was heavily guarded. Grant stood in front of the battle map with a cigar in his mouth, and white smoke swirled under the gas lamp. Belle Watling, wrapped in a mink coat, leaned against an ammunition box, scratching Topeka on the map with his red nails: "About 10,000 black soldiers, including many cavalry and artillery, and many yellow-skinned officers. Their commander was a pockmarked man in his thirties, short and thin, who could only stay awake for a minute in bed."

The staff officers' expressions of trying not to laugh were frozen in the general's frown. Grant glared at the prostitute from Georgia who was captured by his patrol cavalry yesterday afternoon: "Tell me more about this. What. One minute?"

Belle Watling was stunned and looked at the Yankee in front of him: "General, you really want to hear it."

(End of this chapter)