Christie frowned again.
Today was Monday; there were still six days until the weekend.
Baron Lespes saw his hesitation and gestured toward the opposite bank again. "Look, there are thousands of ferocious Indians over there. They could spring from the thickets at any time, firing poisoned arrows at your soldiers.
"But if I can persuade them to accept the debt proposal, you can occupy that place without losing a single man."
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "The Ammunition alone that you save would be worth thousands of US Dollars."
Christie could not help narrowing his eyes. Just as the Frenchman had said, after crushing a large tribe like the Cherokee, it would be perfectly normal for him to report Ammunition expenditures of three or four thousand US Dollars. If the Indians truly withdrew on their own, that money would be his.
He looked at Lespes and nodded. "All right. At eight o'clock Sunday morning, I will cross the river on time. And if the indian army makes any unusual move, I will attack immediately."
"I believe nothing like that will happen." Lespes gave a slight bow, then motioned for his attendant to bring over a small wooden box. "This is Black Tea I brought from Pondicherry. I hope you will enjoy it."
On the Cherokee Tribe's side, after following Longhorn's motions and making the sign of the cross for the third time, Chief Hasai looked up toward the opposite bank of the Altamaha River. Beneath the thin mist, the ranks of American Militia were still slowly gathering toward the Pontoon Bridge.
Hasai sighed and shook his head with a self-mocking smile. "I have become cowardly, to actually pray to some God..."
He had only gotten halfway through the sentence when his eyes suddenly widened. The Americans had unexpectedly