"Wait a moment." Chekilie raised his hand to interrupt Father Vigne, "Are you saying we should attack West Orleans Port?"
He exchanged glances with the tribal elders beside him, and they all burst into laughter.
A muscular middle-aged man, covered in concentric circle tattoos, stared coldly at Vigne: "You were sent by the Spaniards, right?
"I know your trick—no sooner do our warriors set foot on Biloxi than your ambush troops will spring out. Hmph, this is a ploy the Americans have used long ago."
Vigne hurriedly waved his hand: "No, no, you won't encounter any soldiers, I guarantee it.
"Once you reach New Orleans Port, you can freely loot, particularly the American ships.
"Everything you plunder is yours. But try not to kill anyone."
Chekilie laughed even louder: "You guarantee? Do you think I'll believe you?"
Vigne gestured to the six priests behind him: "We will stay here until your people safely return to the tribe. If anything goes wrong, you can kill us at any time.
