Chapter 720 Carriage and Jackdaw
Before the morning mist had dissipated, the old Laver's carriage had run over the seventh frozen pass.
The wheels slipped on the gravel-covered ramp, and the axles made a dying patient-like moan.
Old Laver turned his ear to the carriage, like a sophisticated physician listening to the axle spasm.
"The axle is almost out of service." Old Laver grabbed the cables that tied the carriage to the carriage and shouted to the groom, "We have to stop and repair the axle."
"Are you a captain a hundred or a captain ten?" The groom in front didn't look back, "I've delayed one of us, and the entire troop transport team has to stop.
I want to rest, and I go to the Bear Ginger Castle to rest. I want to be lazy, but I have no way to go! ”
Old Lavert immediately cursed at the groom: "The Japanese pig thing, is it when your grandfather speaks vernacular to you? Then the carriage will be broken and it will be blocked for longer!"
"Who are you with? I am the groom!"
"You will regret it, let me tell you that I have transported grain from this road before, but those who don't rest will be broken. The weather is too cold, the nails will shrink and the wood will become brittle. Do you understand?"
"I'm gonna go..."
After several rounds of quality and getting the whip of the captain ten, Lao Laver returned to the queue with an angry face.
On the blue-gray mountain covered with snow, the light red dragon blood moss is reflected in the common short grass moss.
And under the almost steep mountain wall, a long black and gray dragon was moving slowly.
The recruits wore uniformly distributed double-breasted wool coats and their heads were covered with dog-skin or wolf-skin hats.
They were really like wolf dogs, moving silently and ruggedly, only the old horse could spew out a stream of damp and hot breath.
The cold wind in the mountain passes makes people's face hurt. Experienced people like Lao Laver will buy lard or sheep oil in advance to apply it on their faces.
Those inexperienced recruits from the plains either paid double the money from them, or continued to move against the cracked wounds on their faces.
After leaving their hometown for more than half a month, they first took a boat down the Ibe River, headed to the rapids market, and then transferred to the Naoan River.
Then he went upstream from the Naoan River and was pulled across the turbulent gorge by the trainer.
Then we headed north from Horn's hometown, Shangrifo County, and arrived at the border between Thorn Garden, Gravel Forest and Thousand River Valley.
They are facing heavy mountains and colder air.
Stepping on the creaking frozen soil, Old Laver could see the wheels swinging left and right.
It struggled to support it, biting the axle tightly, but it still couldn't help but become looser and looser.
Finally, when passing through the ninth pass, the axle completely exhaled. With a click, the crackling sound even shocked the snowy owl in the crack of the rock.
"Oh, hell!" The groom jumped out of the carriage, staring blankly at the wheel stuck in the ice crack.
The broken axle is nothing, but the huge pressure presses on the wheels, snagging it tightly into the cracks of the frozen soil.
"Oh, hell!" Old Laver immediately learned to repeat the groom with a sarcastic retelling.
However, the groom was not in the mood to fight him again, and even sweated in the cold weather: "What should I do? What should I do?"
"What's going on... Damn it, what's going on with this wheel?!"
Captain Ten, who arrived quickly, had no choice. Even if he whipped the groom a few times, he could not solve the current problem.
"You guys, take off the shovel and pickaxe from the carriage."
Several enthusiastic recruits immediately walked out and took out a shovel and pickaxe from under the tarpaulin. They straightened their backs, bowed their waists, and held the pickaxe high and swung them down.
"Ding--" In the dull eyes of everyone, the iron pick actually collided with the frozen soil and made a metallic sound.
When a few picks went down, not only did the wheels not move at all, but the hands of several soldiers were numb.
And the convoy behind also arrived at this time.
"Hey, what are the ones in front of you doing? Why don't you leave?"
"The axle is broken, the wheels are stuck in the ice crack!"
"Then we have to go, what are you doing? Can you make a way out?"
"Don't make a noise. Just a little bigger place, can you still fly?"
A young recruit seemed to be raising his strength and reached out to grab the wheel, but was pulled by Old Laver: "What are you going to do?"
"Take out the wheels, you can't keep blocking, right?"
"If you want to be glued off a layer of skin, then you can do it!" Old Laver staggered the recruit.
The recruit is about the same age as Little Laver, but Old Laver is not a bad temper. If he wants to do his own thing, he will not stop him.
Unexpectedly, the young man was surprisingly obedient. He retracted his palm and said, "Then what should you do?" The groom also greeted him as if he saw a life-saving straw: "Brother, it's me that I was wrong. I'm a clumsy person. You If there is a way, let me propose it. This delays the entire team's progress and I can't afford it alone."
Seeing the groom's mistake, Old Laver nodded with satisfaction: "If you want the wheels to come out, you have to use hot spring water to suffocate the frozen soil."
"Brother, don't joke. It's so cold in the mountains. Where can I go to find you hot spring water?"
"Don't worry, who said we don't have hot spring water?" As he said, Old Laver unbuttoned his belt.
The golden and warm liquid poured on the wheels, and dreamy white mist rose, obscuring the new recruits' vision.
People stared at the stout mountaineering in amazement until the ice cracked in the fishy smell.
"The Holy Father is above!"
As dozens of strong young men dripped on their hot urine, although the carriage brought a smell of urine, the convoy finally continued to move forward.
When they finally crossed the pass, the endless gravel wasteland seemed to suddenly jump out and entered their vision dazzlingly.
Groups of grass, intermittent puddles, large and small stones and jackdaws all over the sky.
The shepherds in animal skins and wool clothes stood on the hill, staring at them alertly and peacefully.
No mistakes, one song, one content, one in 6, one book, one bar, one reading!
"未——"
At the junction between the foothills and the wasteland, the bronze bell on the watchtower suddenly roared, and the old horse who was pulling the cart raised its front hooves.
"Here!"
Old Laver raised his head.
On the hexagonal low walls and the central fortress, eight three-pound falcon cannons are displayed.
The cold wind between the passes blew over the huge mill fan blades on the hillside, and Old Laver could occasionally hear the creaking sound of gears rotating.
The cold wind howled, the horses neighed, and the recruits who were frozen so cold that they were stranding on the wasteland, the first ray of wind actually carried a warm feeling.
The slender convoy slowly entered the valley pass and immediately rolled into a lump, stirring the originally calm air to turbidity.
The horses neighed, causing the flock of sheep on the distant hillside to bleat.
Piles of recruits huddled in front of the cast iron oak gate, unable to find each other's belongings.
They stretched their necks, looked around, and shouted loudly the team officer's name.
But everyone is shouting, and no one can hear it.
Several officers wearing jackets waved their rattans in anger and walked around the grass in front of the basin to rectify order and queues.
"You maggots! Stand up, stand up! There is no way you look like a war monk? Stand up! I'm talking about you!"
"Route in two rows! Hold the damn recommendation letter above your head!"
In front of these rough officers, even the old Laver, who had never been disobedient, shrank his head and held the letter of recommendation above his head.
He stroked the edge of the recommendation letter—there was the holy emblem outlined by monk Ansel with wax marks.
"Name!"
"Lavone De Hunter."
The registrant's hand paused: "De?"
"My grandfather's grandfather."
"Is it the groom of Lord Hemashi?" the quartermaster suddenly interrupted, and the rattan whipped out Mars on the frozen ground. "Before you, there are already six grooms of Lord Hemashi, and remember him Laver Hunter, Next! ”
Retracting his hand, picking up the blanket assigned to him, Old Laver adjusted the wolf hunting bow on his back and was about to walk into the bastion.
But suddenly, the crowd became restless, as if something was going on in the distance.
"Holy Father!"
"Is that a shepherd?"
"Let me go into the bastion, let me go into the bastion!"
"Mom!"
Several officers rushed through the crowd like swimming, anxiously whipping on the rattan and asked loudly: "What's wrong? You're fart!"
The recruit who had tried to grab the wheels suddenly grabbed the arm of the old Laver who was waiting and watching:
"Uncle, look over there!"
(This chapter ends)