Chapter 11: Choosing a War Horse

In an open area in the territory of the Mianxiong clan, more than a dozen people stood together. These people were not very old, and some looked only seven or eight years old.

Among them was a tall and handsome young man with thick shoulder-length hair. He was holding a strong bow and aiming at a target a hundred meters away.

His upper body was naked, revealing his solid muscles. As he drew the bow, the muscles in his arms looked like twisted steel bars.

In a moment, there was a "whoosh" sound, and the arrow flew out from the bowstring and disappeared in a flash.

"Where's the arrow?"

"Go and have a look!" A group of young men ran towards the target, trying to find the arrow that suddenly disappeared.

However, Ma Shao, who had just shot the arrow, stood where he was, looked down at the bow in his hand, stroked his chin, and looked thoughtful.

This bow was designed and made by him personally, and has undergone many improvements.

The Indians' technology is very backward and is still at the stone age level. The occasional introduction of some industrial products from the outside world cannot fundamentally change anything.

As far as bows and arrows are concerned, Ma Shao estimates that the Indians' bow and arrow technology may be thousands of years behind other civilizations of the same period.

The reason why he thought so was that the performance of the bow and arrow he designed was far superior to the bows and arrows used by his tribesmen, and he knew nothing about bow and arrow design.

He designed this bow entirely based on his knowledge of mechanics on paper and his experience of living in Indian society accumulated over several years.

Ma Shao didn't believe that this was because he had a talent for cold weapons that he had never noticed. In his opinion, it was more likely that the bows and arrows made by his tribesmen in the past were too lousy.

It's normal to think about it. The tools used by the Indians were stone axes and bone knives, and there were very few metal tools. All of them were brought by the white people after the invasion.

If you want to do your work well, you must first sharpen your tools. Without metal tools, the level of processing and manufacturing will certainly not improve and will linger in the primitive stage for a long time.

Ma Shao was able to design and improve this bow thanks to the metal dagger he had looted from the corpse of a white man. In order to popularize better bows and arrows to his people, he gathered all the metal tools of the clan with the help of the chief and the stone crow.

"The arrow is here, found it!"

"The target was shot through!" The boys who found the arrow exclaimed and ran back.

"Brother Shaozi, you are so strong. Even my father can't do this." A chubby boy said, looking at Ma Shao with admiration in his eyes.

Ma Shao smiled and said, "It's because the bow has become stronger. I'm not that strong."

"Not big? Are you mocking us?" The little beast couldn't help but complain, "I can't even break one of your hands with both of my hands!"

Ma Shao has been in this world for almost four years and has just celebrated his thirteenth birthday.

Although he is only thirteen years old, thanks to long-term adherence to a proper diet and exercise, and of course some innate factors, his physique is very outstanding and his height is at least 1.7 meters.

Considering that men in the 19th century were generally only about 1.6 meters tall, this was definitely a rare tall man. And his height is still growing rapidly, having grown about 3 centimeters in the past two months.

In addition to his height, Ma Shao is also very muscular, with the eight-pack abs that he had always dreamed of in his previous life. When he exerts force, muscle lines like twisted steel bars appear on his body, full of power.

At the age of thirteen, he looked more like a burly young man.

It is for this reason that many people began to call him "Brother Whistle" or "Whistle" instead of "Little Whistle" as in the past. After all, he can't be called small no matter how you look at it.

Ma Shao's strength is just like his physique, far beyond his peers, and even most adults can't match him. A skinny little beast like him, let alone two hands, may not be able to beat him in an arm wrestling match even with four hands.

Ma Shao was very satisfied with the development results, and his efforts in the past few years were not in vain.

"Brother Shaozi, it's time to choose the horses, let's go back." Fengsheng said.

He was half a year older than Ma Shao, but he also called Ma Shao "Shaozige" like other teenagers, and even some people who were a few years older than Ma Shao called him that, like Luanfa. No one thought it was strange.

"Okay, let's go back to the camp." Ma Shao nodded, with some anticipation in his heart.

Soon he will have his own warhorse.

The Apaches usually received a war horse of their own when they were thirteen or fourteen years old. In fact, this was part of the rite of passage.

Ma Shao and several young men of similar age will choose their own war horses this morning and become real warriors.

The person in the clan who is mainly responsible for raising horses is Tiaoti. He is in his thirties, has a square face and a short and strong build.

He is a good horse breeder, and thanks to his excellent work, the clan's horse herd has grown and now has more than six hundred horses.

Six hundred horses not only meant that all the tribe's war needs could be met, but also meant that the clan had a certain degree of immunity from famine.

If the clan encountered famine one year and could not find the bison herd, these horses would undoubtedly help them get through a difficult period.

Tiaoti almost always stays with the horses, and today is no exception. He looked at Ma Shao, Feng Sheng, and Xiao Chusheng who were walking not far away, and said with a smile: "It seems that you can't wait any longer."

"Come and pick some." He said, pointing to the herd of horses behind him.

"You'd better choose a two or three year old horse. Young horses are more docile and can grow up with you so that you can get to know each other better."

Under Tiaoti's guidance, several teenagers found the war horses they liked one after another. As he said, they were all ponies about to reach adulthood, two or three years old.

Except for the horse whistle.

At first he wanted to follow Jumping Hoof's advice and choose a sub-adult pony, but he was too tall and the pony probably wouldn't be able to bear it.

It seems that I can only choose an adult horse...

Ma Shao sighed secretly, being too tall also has its disadvantages.

He walked towards a group of tall adult horses, ready to choose one from them.

"Wait a minute." Unexpectedly, Jumping Hoof suddenly said, "Whistle, come with me, there is a horse here that may be more suitable for you."

Ma Shao turned around and followed Tiao Ti who was waving at him.

They walked through the herd of horses and soon saw a black horse, which was lying on the grass as if basking in the sun.

This black horse has a shiny black coat and looks quite handsome, but other than that there seems to be nothing special about it.

The black horse ignored the horse whistles and jumping hooves, and continued to lie lazily on the ground, occasionally swinging its tail.

"it..."

Jumping Hoof smiled and said, "From the perspective of size, it is just right for you. It is only two years old, but its size is almost the same as that of an adult horse. In the future, it will grow tall and mighty, just like you."

"But its personality is different from yours." He spread his hands. "Although it looks lazy now, it is the most ferocious and aggressive among all the horses I have raised. I almost dare not touch it."