1840 Indian Rebirth

Chapter 155 [Samuel Brannan]

Although the lucky Sartre tried to hide in the crowd, too many people knew him as the former owner of this place, as well as the largest and most brutal slave owner.

"It's him, it's him, it's him!" With the identification of several slaves, the Apache soldier dragged out a fat, bald middle-aged man from the crowd, "John Sutter, the most evil man in all of California !"

The horse sentry looked at Sartre, and said slowly: "Mr. Sartre, unfortunately, according to Apache's law, your promised land is... the execution ground."

Sartre became terrified, and quickly said: "You...you said that you will not kill if you surrender!"

"Surrender can eliminate hostility, but it cannot eliminate crime." Ma Shao said lightly, "You believe in God, right?"

"Yes..." Sartre replied tremblingly.

Horse whistle: "Then let God forgive you, my mission is to send you to God."

"No, no—" Sartre howled in despair, but was held down by two strong Apache soldiers.

The horse post officially announced his death sentence: "John Sutter has committed countless crimes, including intentional injury, slavery, and intentional homicide... He is punished for several crimes and sentenced to execution by shooting according to the law and executed immediately."

After the sentence was pronounced, he did not order the soldiers to execute Sartre.

Instead, he looked at a group of white people: "My soldiers and I are a little tired. Would any of you be willing to execute Sutter's execution for me?"

The white people looked at each other in blank dismay, bewildered.

The horse whistle said again: "The opportunity is rare, whoever is willing to do it for me, I will give him some good rewards, such as... appointing him as the civil governor of the white people."

There was some commotion in the crowd, but still no one stood up.

"To be honest, I'm a little tempted, but Mr. Sartre helped me..."

"It's shameful to do this!"

To Indians, John Sutter was the most wicked man in California, or at least one of the most wicked.

But for white people, Sartre is still a good person, willing to do good, and very popular.

It wasn't until about a minute later that someone finally decided to receive this benefit.

"Dear chief, I am willing to serve you and execute this heinous guy!" A voice came from the crowd.

Following the sound of the horse whistle, he saw a man in his early thirties or 27 years old walking out of the crowd. He had a beard and was well groomed.

"God, Brannan, you can't do that!" the white folks said.

"You shameless bastard!" Sartre glared at the man angrily, "I helped you, I let you open a store here, and you betrayed me!"

Brannan ignored it.

The horse whistle looked at him: "What's your name?"

"Samuel Brannan," Brannan said.

"Brannan..." Horse Whistle frowned slightly.

He had a little recollection of the name, and it seemed to be an extremely important figure, perhaps the most important, in the events of the California Gold Rush.

But he had long forgotten the specifics.

After thinking for a few seconds without a clue, he stopped thinking: "Very well, Brannan."

His eyes signaled Duan Wang, and Duan Guan then made Sartre face the crowd, knelt on the ground, and handed Brannan a pistol at the same time.

"Brannan, let me tell you some common sense of biology." Du Wang said, "A shot in the head does not necessarily kill a person, but a shot in the back of the head will definitely die. This is the fastest death."

"Really?" Brannan heard this for the first time.

If a white scientist told him, he would believe it, but when an Indian told him this, he couldn't help but feel suspicious.

"Now, shoot him in the back of the head, and then you will find that he will stop breathing in an instant." Du Wang pointed at the back of Sartre's head.

Brannan held his revolver and aimed it at the back of Sutter's head.

At the same time, Du Wang stood behind him, watching his movements.

Brannan looked nervous, the sweat on his palms visible, not just because he was going to kill.

What's more, while killing Sutter, he also had to face more than 100 white men in front of him.

He could feel the eyes of the crowd, and these contemptuous and hateful eyes made him feel uncomfortable.

But Brannan had already thought of his options, and he knew that the future Fort Sutter belonged to the Apaches.

Under the guard of these tiger-like soldiers, no one can break into this already strong fortress.

American troops would not rescue Fort Sutter, and probably would even secretly rejoice.

There are also some American citizens here, such as he is... But they don't expect to be saved by the United States, because they are mainly Mormons who escaped from the US government.

Brannan decided that this was going to be a prison, and if he wanted to live a better life in this Indian prison on the edge of America, there was no doubt that he had to do something.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sutter... I hope he's telling the truth. A bullet to the back of the head kills the most people," Brannan said, gritted his teeth, and pulled the trigger.

"boom!"

With a gunshot and splashes of blood and brains, Sartre's body fell to the ground.

Indeed, as Du Wang said, a bullet shot into the back of the head would instantly kill a person.

"Well done, Mr. Brannan, now you are the White Civil Governor here." Horse Whistle smiled slightly.

Du Tiao retracted the pistol, Brannan took a few breaths, turned around and asked, "What do I need to do?"

"For the time being, your job is to assist the judiciary," said Horse Whistle.

"White people at Fort Sutter, especially white people who have been slave owners, will be judged by the law."

"Of course, unless the crime is extremely heinous and refuses to plead guilty, I will not abuse the death penalty. After all, the chief culprit, Sartre, has already personally asked God for forgiveness."

He looked at the group of white people again: "In addition, you can also choose to turn yourself in. Those who voluntarily confess their crimes and identify other people's crimes can be given a lighter punishment."

As soon as the words fell, a white man said in horror: "I confess, I used to be a slave owner, and I abused the Indians!"

Subsequently, several white men chose to turn themselves in, confess their crimes, and identify each other.

"I confess, and I confess, that I was a former slave owner and abused the Indians. So did Robert, who did more than I did!"

"Reading also had many slaves, and abused them too!"

"...Williams peeped at Mary's shower!"

"You obviously peeped too!"

Soon, not only the confession of slavery, but also all kinds of sneaky things came out.In the end, after some introversion, all white people were charged with a series of crimes.

Of course, in the horse post plan, these white people will have at least one crime, that is, John Sutter's accomplices.

(End of this chapter)