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osc.am2.redprophet-第81章

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to harass the enemy。 But now; without the range of muskets; they could do little more than annoy Old Hickory's army with the stings of feeble arrows fired from too far off; where they had meant to cripple the Americans with an irresistible storm of metal。 And because the bowmen had to e so close to the Americans in order to fire; many of them were killed。
  〃Don't stand near me;〃 Ta…Kurnsaw told Alvin。 〃They all know of the prophecy。 They'll think my courage only es because I know I cannot die。〃
  So Alvin stood farther off; but never so far that he didn't see deeply into Ta…Kumsaw's body; ready to heal any wound。 What he could not heal was the fear and anger and despair that already gathered in Ta…Kumsaw's soul。 Without gunpowder; without Napoleon; the sure victory had bee a chancy thing at best。
  The basic tactics were successful。 Old Hickory spotted the trap at once; but the terrain forced him to fall into it or retreat; and he knew that retreat would be disaster。 So he marched his army boldly between the hills filled with Reds; funneling into the narrow ground where French cannon and musketry would rake the Americans while the Reds killed any who tried to flee。 The victory would be plete。 Except that the Americans were supposed to be demoralized; confused; and their numbers deeply reduced by the Red men shooting at them all the way here。
  The tactics were successful; except that when the American army came in view of the French; and hesitated before the muzzles of nine cannon loaded with canister; and two thousand muskets arrayed to sweep and doublesweep the field; the French inprehensibly began to move back。 It was as if they did not trust the impregnability of their own position。 They did not even try to withdraw the cannon。 They retreated as if they feared immediate destruction。
  The course of the battle was predictable; then。 Old Hickory knew what to do with opportunity。 His soldiers ignored the Reds and fell on the retreating Frenchmen; slaughtering all who did not run; seizing their cannon and muskets; their powder and shot。 Within an hour they had used the French artillery to break down the fortress walls in three places; Americans streamed into Detroit; there was bloody fighting in the streets。
  Ta…Kumsaw should have left then。 He should have let the Americans destroy the French; should have taken his men to safety。 Perhaps he felt a duty to help the French; even after they had betrayed him。 Perhaps he saw a glimmer of hope that with the Americans involved in battle; his army of Reds might win a victory after all。 Or perhaps he knew that never again would he have the power to gather all the fighting men of every tribe; if he retreated now; with the battle unfought; who would follow him again? And if they would not follow him; they would follow no one; and the White men would nibble their way to conquest; devouring now this tribe; now that。 Ta…Kumsaw surely knew that it was either victory now; however unlikely; or the struggle would be over for all time; and any of his people who weren't slaughtered outright would either escape into the west; a strange land to them; lacking in forest; or would remain as a diminished people; living like White men instead of Red; the forest forever silent。 Whether he hoped for victory or not; he could not surrender to such a future; not without a fight。
  So armed with bows and arrows; clubs and knives; the Reds attacked the American army from behind。 At first they reaped the Whites in bloody harvest; clubbing them to the ground; piercing them with flints。 Ta…Kumsaw shouted at them to take muskets; powder; ammunition from the dead; and many Reds obeyed。 But then Old Hickory got the disciplined core of his men into action。 The guns were turned。 And the Reds; exposed on the open field; were felled in great swathes of grapeshot。
  By evening; the sun going down; Detroit was on fire and the smoke filled the nearby wood。 In that choking darkness stood Ta…Kumsaw with a few hundred of his own Shaw…Nee。 Other tribes made isolated stands here and there; most despaired and fled into the forest; where no White man could follow。 Old Hickory himself led the final assault against Ta…Kumsaw's wooded fortress; bringing with him the thousand Americans who weren't busy looting the French city and smashing the idols in the Papist cathedral。
  The bullets came from all directions; it seemed。 But through it all Ta…Kumsaw stood upright; shouting to his men; urging them to fight on with muskets stolen from fallen Americans in the first attack。 For fifteen minutes that seemed like forever; Ta…Kumsaw fought like a madman; and his Shaw…Nee fought and died beside him。 Ta…Kumsaw's body blossomed with scarlet wounds; blood streaked down his back and belly; one arm hung limp by his side。 No one knew how he found the strength to stand; he had so many wounds in him。 But Ta…Kumsaw was made of flesh like any other man; and at last he fell in the smoky dusk; bearing half a dozen wounds; any one of which would surely have been fatal by itself。
  When Ta…Kumsaw fell; the firing slackened。 It was as if the Americans knew that they had only to kill that one man; and they would break the spirit of the Red man; now and forever。 The dozen surviving Shaw…Nee warriors crept away in the smoke and the darkness; to bear the bitter news of Ta…Kumsaw's death to every Shaw…Nee village; and eventually to every hut where Red men and women lived。 The great battle was hopeless; White men could not be trusted; French or American; and so Ta…Kumsaw's great plan could never have succeeded。 Yet the Red men remembered that at least for a time they had united under one great man; had bee a single people; had dreamed of victory。 So Ta…Kumsaw was remembered in song as Red villages and families moved west across the Mizzipy to join the Prophet; he was remembered in stories told beside brick hearths; by families who wore clothing and worked at jobs like white men; but still remembered that once there was another way to live; and the greatest of all the forest Reds had been a man called Ta…Kumsaw; who died trying to save the woodland and the ancient; doomed Red way of life。
  It was not only Reds who remembered Ta…Kumsaw。 Even as they fired muskets at his shadowy figure in the woods; the American soldiers admired him。 He was a great hero out of olden times。 Americans were all farmers and shopkeepers at heart; Ta…Kumsaw lived a story like Achilles or Odysseus; Caesar or Hannibal; David or the Maccabees。 〃He can't die;〃 they murmured as they saw him take bullets and still not fall。 And when at last he did fall; they searched for his body and did not find it。
  〃The Shaw…Nee dragged him off;〃 said Old Hickory; and that was that。 He wouldn't even let them search for the Renegado Boy; figuring that such a White traitor was no doubt as faithless as the French and snuck off during the fight。 Leave be; said Old Hickory; and who was going to argue with the old man? He won them the victory; didn't he? He broke the back of Red resistance once and for all; didn't he? Old Hickory; Andy Jackson  they wanted to make him King; but they'd have to settle for President someday。 Yet in the meantime they could not forget Ta…Kumsaw; an
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