"Damn it! Put me down! I'm the chieftain of the Duo'er Tribe! Put me down, now!..."
"Ah, I didn't lose! You bastard, just now you relied on your fast horse and borrowed its strength to hit me... You're no warrior at all! If you're a warrior, then fight me one-on-one again!..."
A bear-like howl drifted from far away, from deep within the dense forest all the way to the ambush battlefield by the river. The woods along the river were always sparse. First, Korean Pine and larch grew intermingled; by the riverbank, they turned into scattered Manchurian ash and Northeast Poplar. And with fewer trees, sunlight leaked down, and the flooded soil was especially fertile, so long grass grew thick. Those tall swaths of reed, the sweet cattail, and the flowering sedge were all excellent fodder for horses.
When Maha Aguda rode back on horseback with the captured chieftain Uduwen, he saw a scene of bustle. Many Jurchen warriors from the Kingdom and the Maha Tribe had taken off their armor and removed their helmets, busy cutting grass with axes. After this brief, fierce clash, the men were not very tired, but the horses had all sweated and had to be checked quickly and fed something. If a horse lost condition, or if an injury or illness went unnoticed, that would hurt the heart even more than being wounded oneself.
"Great Spirit! What is going on with this tribe? These horses are terribly thin. They need to be well cared for. They can't carry goods or people on the road anymore!..."
Several seasoned Jurchen cavalrymen muttered as they took out precious Barnyard Millet and soothed the newly captured horses. Calling them warhorses was rather forced, because these mountain-forest Jurchen horses were clearly both male and female and had not undergone