Chapter 85: Golden Ge Iron Horse Practices Yan Ran (1)
Momoxi means small stone by the river in Tatar.
He is the manu of a chief in the Ba tribe of Dharanta on the banks of the Baitala River. This is because his father, mother, grandmother, maternal grandparents, and even his great-grandparents are all manu of the chief.
Generations of man slaves, inheritance in an orderly manner.
His task today was to drive hundreds of sheep to the pastures in the upper reaches of the Badala River so that they would be well fed.
The weather is sunny today, the sky is like a piece of blue glass, and the white clouds are like protrusions on it. One spring has passed, and after a while, the grass on the grassland has grown wildly and finally stopped.
The grassland in summer is very warm, and the sun shines on your body, which makes you feel hot after a long time. There are also many mosquitoes. People, horses, and sheep will pounce on you without hesitation as soon as they stop for a moment.
It doesn't matter whether the horse has a tail or the sheep has hair, but people will suffer.
However, Momo Xi’s grandfather passed down a local method, which is to use a certain kind of grass on the grassland, dry it and grind it into powder, then mix it with human urine, horse urine and sheep urine, gather it into strips, and then dry it in the shade. It needs to be
When you light one, the blue smoke will make birds and mosquitoes afraid to get close.
It's just that the smell is a bit off, but the herders on the grasslands also smell like it and don't care about it at all.
Grandpa Momoxi said that if it were wolf urine, it would be the best, but the smell would be stronger.
Momoxi carefully placed one on it, drove away the mosquitoes that were swirling around him, then built a shelf with wooden strips, put a piece of cloth that had been passed down for many years on top, and put his head inside to provide shade.
Lying on the grass, I saw the blue sky and white clouds through the gaps in the cloth. Smelling the mosquito repellent, Momoxi couldn't help but think of his grandfather.
My grandfather used to be a troubadour and traveled all over the prairie. That year he met my grandmother on the banks of the Badara River, and he willingly stayed as a servant to the Dabri Jitou people, and then he got his wish and got married to her.
He only gave birth to a son, and his father also became the leader's horse slave. Later, he married the manu's daughter, his mother, and gave birth to himself and his younger brothers and sisters, adding to the number of the leader's man slaves.
I remember from an early age that my parents were busy in and out every day. They started working before dawn and could only rest after dark. My brothers and sisters were all raised by my grandfather.
Grandfather did some lighter work at home, milking horses and goats, drying fodder, repairing saddles and other equipment, and taking care of Momoxi and the others.
What Momoxi and the others liked best was their grandfather weaving straw ropes, and everyone sat around him and listened to him sing stories. He sang stories about his experiences during his travels, as well as stories about the origin of the Tatar people.
The Tatars are the descendants of Rouran Dadan Khan and formed by mixing with the Xianbei people. They used to live further north from the east of the Beihai (Lake Baikal) to the west of the Xianbei Mountains, and later gradually moved south and west.
Nowadays, the nine tribes of divination evolved from the nine surnames of Tatar.
At that time, the Turks were rampant in the Mobei grassland and oppressed all ethnic groups and tribes. The brave Tatars with nine surnames united to resist the Turks. Later, after everyone drove the Turks and Uighurs out of the Mobei grassland, they were divided into nine tribes according to the nine surnames.
The people who occupied the current area were also called the Chu Bu people by the Khitan people.
Grandfather also said that the nine tribes of divination people mentioned by the Liao people were actually only six tribes: Kelieyiti, Zhu Lijin, Dong Eyite, Saheyi, Tubiewuti and Albati, plus Yefugua.
There are more than 20 affiliated small tribes such as the tribe, Damili, Dhalandaba and so on, and everyone is under the leadership of the most powerful Kreyiti tribe.
The Tatar tribe is actually inherited from the nine surnamed Tatars, and is also one of the Zubu people. But they occupied a good place, prospered, and had a large population. They are now divided into Nawuer, Alchi, Chahan, and Kui.
Because, Tie Lieti, Bu Lu restored the six divisions.
Momoxi remembered his grandfather saying that the Tatar people were not only numerous, but also violent by nature. They often drew swords on each other and often bullied people from other tribes.
If you encounter Tatar people in the future, you must be careful.
Momoxi was the one who listened most intently.
He always imagined that he was born in that era and transformed into a hero who resisted the Turks and expelled the Huihe people. He rode a white horse, stretched out his bow and arrows, brandished his saber, cut off the head of the enemy leader, and won the most beautiful victory on the grassland.
The favor of flowers.
His story was spread across the grasslands by troubadours and passed down from generation to generation.
Momoxi is also the closest to his grandfather at home. Many of his life knowledge and skills, including identifying directions on the grassland, how to prevent horses from getting tired easily, and how to shoot wolves... were all taught by his grandfather.
But when Momoxi was twelve years old, his grandfather was over sixty years old, his voice was hoarse, and he could not sing poems. The leader felt that he was useless, and asked him to deliver messages to his relatives in the Dalimi tribe in the middle of winter.
He walked hundreds of miles in a windy and snowy day, riding a horse as old as him, and was not allowed to bring any useful things such as knives, bows and arrows.
Everyone knows what this means.
Momoxi cried and begged his father not to let his grandfather go out. But his father just hid in the corner and cried, and there was nothing he could do.
Grandfather quietly left a dagger to Momoxi, saying that it was left to him by his grandfather. He hoped that this situation would not happen again when Momoxi left it to his grandson.
Momoxi touched the short knife at his waist, his eyes filled with tears. Four years later, he still remembered the scene when his grandfather and the old horse staggered and disappeared into the wind and snow.
The horse that was grazing not far away suddenly raised its head, looked around, and puffed out a few breaths from its nose, as if to inform Momoxi.
Momoxi also had a premonition of something abnormal. He wiped away his tears, stood up abruptly, picked up a simple wooden bow and bone arrows, and walked to his mount.
Momoxi's mount was a half-grown green horse, with only a simple saddle on the horse's back and two worn-out sheepskins. He got on the horse, pulled the reins, and looked around cautiously.
This place is a bit far from the tribe's base. People from other tribes will come here to graze their cattle, and they may also meet people passing by.
On the grassland, there are kind people who greet each other politely and even treat each other to a drink of mare's milk; there are also bad people who kill people and rob cattle, sheep and horses if they disagree.
Mo Moxi doesn't know what kind of people he will meet, and he must be prepared to deal with them.
He whistled, and the two shepherd dogs who were lying in the grass guarding the sheep suddenly stood up, raised their heads and looked at their owner. When they saw him making a few gestures, they immediately started running, barking as they ran, and started to chase the sheep.
The group gathered together and slowly walked away into the distance.
Momoxi drove his mount up to the highest point nearby, a hill, and looked at the area dozens of miles around.
The Badala River flows quietly not far away, like a shy and tactful girl. The grass on the grassland is like a thick green blanket, and the wind blows over, creating rippling waves.
It looked very peaceful, just like the blue sky and white clouds above our heads, calm and calm.
But Mo Moxi's heart became more and more vigilant. The intuition developed from years of fighting against various dangers on the grassland told him that in this peaceful and silent environment, there was a deadly danger hidden.
.
This danger may not be fatal because it has not yet shown its fangs. Perhaps it is not hostile and just needs to hide its tracks.
Could it be a runaway slave passing by?
Every year, many escaped slaves cannot bear the torture and flee south. Most of these people, whose families are ruined and have no choice but to flee, do not want to cause trouble unless they are in desperate situations.
No! Someone sneaked up on me! Where is he? Where is he?
The hairs on Momoxi's arms stood up. He glanced around, and his instinct told him to aim his bow and arrow at a patch of grass on his left. This chapter has been completed!