Soon, several black people approached the town, and at the same time, a group of white people came out of the town. The white people were driving horses and carriages, and the carriages were fully loaded. It was obvious that they were a group of merchants.
Both sides noticed each other, and the hearts of several black people seemed to be in their throats, and they were extremely nervous.
However, the merchants did not react much, just a few discussions.
"Look, a bunch of lowly runaway slaves!" said a man with a cigarette in his mouth.
Someone immediately reminded him: "Shh, keep your voice down. If Freud hears you, he will definitely kick you into the shit pit."
"Never mind these niggers, we are businessmen... The most important thing for us is to get these fashionable overalls back to St. Louis and sell them for a profit."
"Let's go."
The white cargo traders ignored the black people and left the town with their goods.
Several black people couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief and hurried into the town, and then they saw four black compatriots dressed in decent clothes.
"Are you fleeing from the South?" Floyd noticed them and looked up and asked.
"Yes..." A black man nodded, and then his pupils shrank, and he saw Floyd suddenly pull out the revolver from his waist.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
Following a few gunshots and screams from behind, several black men looked back and saw that the two slave hunters who were chasing them had been hit by lead bullets and fell off their horses.
This scene stunned the black people.
There is nothing uncommon in places where slavery has been abolished. Many people in the northern United States advocate the abolition of slavery, and Canada has abolished this system long ago, but this does not mean that blacks and whites are equal.
It was the first time they had heard of a black man openly shooting and killing two white people.
"What are your names and where are you from?" Floyd asked again.
"My name is Tom Clay, and I'm from Arkansas," said the leading black man, his eyes still fixed on the body of the slave hunter.
Floyd smiled nonchalantly: "I am a police officer here. These two guys just pointed their guns at me. According to the laws of Clark Town, I have sufficient reason to shoot them."
"Police...Police?" The blacks had not yet come to their senses and they didn't quite understand this word.
Because the police system had not yet been popularized in the United States at that time, the famous New York Police Department had just been established.
A small town actually has a police force, which is definitely at the forefront of fashion.
"Law enforcer, law enforcer." Floyd is no stranger to this. "I have to explain this to almost every new guy."
Clay was still confused. "But why are you black? I mean, at least I haven't heard of a black sheriff."
"Because this is Clark Township, there is no slavery here, not even a little bit," Floyd said. "So, you are now free."
With the rapid development of Clark Clothing Company, Clark Town gradually prospered. New immigrants continued to move here, and of course there were some escaped black slaves who also gained their freedom and the right to work here.
Many white people were initially confused and resistant to a town where order was maintained by blacks and Indians.
If it weren't for the good job offers by Clark Garment Company that attracted many workers, few people would be willing to get involved with this strange town.
But as they settled down or communicated with each other, the white people soon discovered that the security situation in this small town was surprisingly good.
In their impression, the blacks and Indians are barbaric and ignorant, but they always put the law first when enforcing the law, at least in words.
Although there were some deviations in the actual implementation, it still far exceeded their psychological expectations. Compared with the chaos in most areas of the Midwest, Clark Town presented a rare stability and tranquility.
Gradually, more and more white people flocked to Clark Town, and including black people, the town's population was close to 800.
After a brief understanding, Clay and several other black people chose to stay here.
Clark Town not only completely abolished slavery, but also helped them find jobs so that they could adapt to life here more quickly.
They believe that even if they travel all the way to Canada, they may not find a better place than this.
But there are always some twists and turns.
After arriving in the town, before they could even eat a bite of food, they were visited by a middle-aged black man in a white shirt and jeans.
The man was holding two books, one of which was a Bible. He had a kind face and looked like a pastor.
"Welcome to Clark Town, I'm Donald White," he introduced himself.
"Hello." Many black people also believe in God and said politely.
White sat down and chatted with Clay and the others, asking about their well-being and occasionally thanking God.
But gradually, as the topic progressed, Clay realized that this guy who looked like a pastor seemed a little...special.
"My black brothers, do you know why we have black skin?" White asked.
"Why?"
White said slowly: "Because we are the descendants of Cain, this is the black mark God has carved on us to punish us for our misbehavior..."
Clay looked confused: "I don't think I've heard of this."
White continued, "This is what Joseph Smith told us. We did evil in our past lives, so we are black, but if we do good in this life, we will be white in the next."
"Joseph Smith?"
"Yes, our prophet," White continued, pulling out another book from under the Bible.
The cover of this book clearly reads: The Book of Mormon.
…
Sleeping Bear City.
The winter wheat has been harvested. Although it was planted roughly, the land here is very fertile and the harvest is quite good.
Ma Shao had prepared a water mill and led his people to grind a lot of flour and make various pasta. Most Apaches felt the joy of harvest for the first time.
As the wheat harvest was over, the training of the Sleeping Bear militia officially began. The six hundred militiamen began training from the most basic formations, and eventually they would learn to use firearms and understand some basic tactics.
The weapons that Ma Shao prepared for the militia were mainly Kentucky rifles and plains rifles, both of which were the most common rifled rifles at the time. The former was slender and accurate, suitable for sniping on the battlefield, while the latter was thick and powerful, more suitable for hunting bison.
On this day, Ma Shao was training the militia. During their break, the soldiers sang the military song "Unity is Strength" that he taught them.
Of course, compared with the original Chinese version, this Apache version of "Unity is Strength" has changed a lot, mainly in the lyrics, while the ideas and melody have remained basically unchanged.
"Unity is strength, unity is strength..."
In Ma Shao's opinion, the biggest advantage of this kind of song is that it is not easy to go out of tune and anyone can sing along.
He has never seen anyone singing this song out of tune.
At the end of the training, a squadron of the Clark Town garrison was rotated back, and the squadron leader reported to Ma Shao a piece of news that made him feel a little nervous.
"Preaching?"