Little Turtle sighed. "You're right. We no longer deserved to be called warriors, but there was truly no way..."
Three Fires muttered, "We only had a little over a thousand warriors left, and American forces were all around us. Otherwise, we wouldn't have signed that treaty!"
After crushing the Northwest Tribal Alliance last year, American forces had forced them to sign the Treaty of Greenville.
The treaty stipulated that the United States government "purchased" 250,000 square kilometers of land from six indian tribes for twenty thousand US Dollars, leaving the indians only a small patch of land in northwestern Ohio to live on. At the same time, all trade by the indian tribes had to be supervised by the United States government. In reality, this meant they had to sell what they produced to Americans at low prices.
Bettina waved her hand and called out, "No, every Native American is a born warrior! And a generous lord is willing to provide weapons and help you take revenge on the Americans!"
Little Turtle's eyes lit up for an instant, but he immediately slumped again. "This... forget it. Our people are all trapped inside this cramped 'cage.'
"As soon as we launch an attack on the Americans, they will immediately kill the women and children of our tribe."
The reservation was extremely cramped and surrounded by American towns. It could be said that the slightest movement by the Indians would bring the calamity of extermination upon them.
Bettina smiled faintly and revealed the main purpose of her journey. "If you could move your people elsewhere, say, to the west bank of the Mississippi River, would you be able to fight the Americans without restraint?"
"That is French territory..." Little Turtle stopped halfway through his sentence and suddenly froze. Wasn't the person before