Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 320 Xinhua Bay Colonization Team (Continued Part 2)
April 20th, Grain Rain.

Xuanhamburg (now Seattle).

The morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the waters of the Qingchuan River (now the Duwamish River) shimmered with light. Several dugout canoes of the Duwamish people floated on the river, gliding across the surface like silent water striders.

In the red pine forest on the shore, early-rising indigenous children are collecting pine needles, their laughter carried through the mist, sometimes near, sometimes far.

Li Chunsheng squatted on the edge of the field, his rough palms rubbing the churned soil. The splinter that had pierced his palm when he was clearing the land last year was still throbbing with pain.

He grabbed a handful of soil, watching the earthworms wriggle between his fingers, and suddenly remembered the spring plowing in his hometown in Shandong.

The soil there has an alkaline sheen, and when you squeeze it in your hand, it feels like coarse salt mixed with sand.

“If this were in Shandong, the wheat seedlings would be piled high with grain by now.” He straightened up, and the joints of his spine cracked under the strain.

Behind them, on more than 30 acres of newly reclaimed land, the migrants were compacting the furrows with stone rollers. Their sweat dripped onto the soil and was immediately swallowed up by the thirsty earth.

Every plow mark is a testament to these strangers taking root in this unfamiliar land, carrying their hopes for the future.

"Yeah, if this were in Shandong, there would be a spring famine by now," Zhang Daniu said in a muffled voice.

"..." Upon hearing this, Li Chunsheng was stunned for a long while, then nodded and said, "That's right. If we were still in the Ming Dynasty, every household's rice jar would probably be empty by now. There wouldn't be any food on the stove, and the children would be crying from hunger. The scene would be..."

"Back then, if you could find a patch of shepherd's purse or an elm tree, you could probably survive the spring famine." Sun Li wiped the sweat from his forehead, stopped shoveling, and interjected, "If you couldn't find any, then you'd just have to tighten your belt even more!"

"And locust flowers!" Zhang Daniu exclaimed. "These things, if you pick them and steam them, can fill your stomach, and they smell delicious!"

“Shepherd’s purse, elm seeds, and locust flowers—those are the three treasures of spring famine!” Li Chunsheng said with a smile. “Any one of them can help us get through the spring famine a few more days.”

"To be honest, it seems that these three treasures don't exist in the New Continent."

"What, you're craving these things now?" Zhang Daniu joked.

"Pshaw! There are potatoes, corn, and dried fish. Who the hell would crave this!" Sun Li scoffed, his eyes full of satisfaction with his current life.

Although the food they eat nowadays may not be considered delicacies, it is a heavenly experience in the hearts of these immigrants who have endured hardship.

"That's right! If there's food to eat, who would want to forage for wild vegetables or pick tree leaves to eat?"

"That's right, we can fill our stomachs and have an endless supply of fish. This is like living in a dream!"

As they spoke, all three of them subconsciously turned their heads to look at the furrow.

At this time, the sun was rising higher, and it was almost noon. The warm sunlight shone on us, dispelling some of the fatigue from our work.

I reckon lunch should have arrived by now.

During the busy spring planting season, Xuanhamburg has resumed its usual three meals a day. Breakfast and dinner are eaten in the village's communal canteen, while lunch is delivered to the fields by logistics personnel pulling carts.

Generally, breakfast is simple, consisting of corn buns and corn porridge. Lunch and dinner are slightly more substantial, including steamed potatoes, dried salted fish, and pickled vegetables such as dried radish, which are preserved in winter.

Although these meals are not very oily, they are filling and will certainly not leave anyone working in the fields on an empty stomach.

As required by the land reclamation management personnel, the area of ​​land reclaimed and cultivated this year will be more than double that of last year. The task is heavy and the time is tight, so the work is still very hard.

Basically, as soon as it got light, the wake-up call would ring out like a ghost, dragging the still-drowsy immigrants out of their warm beds.

The village leaders shouted loudly, kicked open the doors of the dormitories, and urged the immigrants to quickly wash up and eat, then line up in loose rows and rush toward the fields.

All the immigrants here are managed under a unified system, just like the military households in the Ming Dynasty's garrisons. They obey orders in everything they do, from walking and sitting to eating and working.

Only after dinner, when it's time to rest, do they have a little free time to relax.

However, the heavy farm work every day had already exhausted everyone's last bit of strength, leaving no extra energy to enjoy so-called free activities.

After a quick wash, I fell into a deep sleep as soon as I touched the bed, snoring away.

However, despite the hard work and exhaustion, the immigrants did not complain much.

Because the officials in charge of the settlements were able to ensure that everyone had enough to eat.

That alone is enough.

It should be noted that even in the bitterly cold winter, when they huddled in their wooden huts doing nothing, the officials in the village did not cut back on their food; they simply reduced their three meals a day to two.

Moreover, they would occasionally add a few salted dried fish or simmer a pot of bone broth so that the children could have a taste of meat and warm their hearts.

Two weeks ago, a new batch of immigrants arrived in the village. With the addition of officials and armed guards, there were about 160 people, which immediately made this somewhat desolate settlement bustling and lively.

Despite the fact that the arrival of new immigrants made the living conditions in the village immediately crowded, the communal houses that previously housed three or four people suddenly crammed in five or six people, to the point that there was not even room to put one's feet down.

However, the food in the village also improved. Not only did the daily amount of food increase, but a lot of meat was added, including venison, whale meat, chicken, and even pork once, which made every immigrant very happy.

Of course, the increase in the number of immigrants in the village has also added a sense of security to everyone.

Well, compared to the local people around us, we no longer seem to be alone and isolated!

A few days ago, more than 260 acres of potatoes had been planted. Looking at the neat rows of fields, everyone was filled with hope.

These potatoes will be harvested in four or five months and become their food.

They are like the dreams of everyone who wants to take root and flourish on this land.

Next, it's time to plant the corn.

In order to expand the planting area as much as possible, they also reclaimed the wasteland on the right bank of the Qingchuan River, deeply turned the soil, and dug out as many grass roots as possible.

The immigrants didn't have high hopes for these newly cultivated fields; as long as they didn't lose any seeds in the fall, that would be their greatest harvest.

However, the village's agricultural technician told them that corn has a short growing season and is a cold-resistant variety that has been cultivated over many years, making it more suitable for the mild and rainy climate of Xuanhamborg.

What's even more remarkable is that corn isn't picky about the soil; even if the land is a little barren, it won't be a problem, and the seeds will certainly not be wasted.

"It's time to eat!"

Shouts came from the other end of the field, immediately attracting the attention of all the immigrants.

Several cooks were seen pulling two carts slowly across the newly erected pine bridge, the axles groaning as if they were dying.

Several armed guards followed behind the vehicle; they were all strong young men in their early twenties, carrying muskets and waist knives, walking along with smiles on their faces.

Today's lunch had the long-lost aroma of meat. In addition to the usual cornbread and corn porridge, there was half a bucket of salted dried fish in the wooden bucket, with a few pieces of whale blubber floating on top, the oil glistening like mother-of-pearl in the sunlight.

"Hurry up and finish eating!" The village's agricultural team leader, clutching a cornbread in one hand and half a dried fish in the other, chewed vigorously, his cheeks bulging. "Today, we must finish turning this furrow, or none of you will be allowed to leave work." "Even if it gets dark, we must finish today's work quota by torchlight... Tomorrow, we also need to clear the drainage ditch in the east shoal; we mustn't miss the planting season!"

No one responded; everyone was busy eating cornbread and drinking corn porridge to replenish the energy they had lost that morning.

Last year, they came to this place. Although it was springtime, they missed the farming season by building fortresses and wooden houses, so they basically didn't engage in agricultural production.

Also in May, several dozen acres of vegetable gardens were hastily cleared and planted with various vegetables and potatoes for daily food needs.

However, after a year of land reclamation, Xuanhamburg has reclaimed more than 200 mu of new land, thus laying the foundation for this year's agricultural production.

One-third of these two hundred-plus acres of new land were acquired from the local indigenous tribe (Duwamish people) through a deal involving grain, salt, and various trinkets.

It is quite difficult to reclaim land using only human labor.

Because the forest here is extremely dense, and the trees are exceptionally large.

Some of the towering spruce trees had a circumference of more than ten meters and a diameter of four or five meters, making them truly colossal trees that none of the Ming Dynasty immigrants had ever seen in their entire lives.

To fell such a large tree with a saw or an axe would take several days, even with shift work.

The local indigenous people simply hollowed out these large trees to make huge dugout canoes, which they used to travel on the river or sail into the ocean to catch fish.

Therefore, the main task of the immigrants in Hamburg last year was logging, logging, and logging non-stop.

To save time and effort, the village's settlement officials "bought" some land from the local people and converted it into farmland, using it as their initial foothold.

Yes, these indigenous people occupied the most fertile riverbank plains, which were not only fertile but also sparsely wooded. With a little modification, they could be transformed into fertile farmland.

Moreover, after the corresponding irrigation facilities are improved, it is still a coveted irrigated land.

After another three or four years of fertility improvement, it will definitely be "upgraded"!
"Captain, the natives are here!"

In the afternoon, a breeze picked up on the river.

While turning over the soil, Li Chunsheng found a pebble with a fish pattern carved on it. Just as he was about to take a closer look, he heard a rapid whistle of birch bark coming from the middle of the river.

A dozen or so natives were rowing their boats toward the river bend, the feathers of the herons above their heads trembling violently in the wind, hinting at a hint of danger.

"Stop everything!...Stop everything!"

"Everyone on alert!"

The village headman shouted as he picked up the musket from the ridge and led several militiamen to meet them.

"Damn it, are they going to come and drive us away?"

"Captain, do we need to send someone back to report?" one of the militiamen asked, somewhat flustered.

"Wait and see."

Several dugout canoes had already reached the right bank. The local people shouted and jumped off the boats, following a tribal chief as he walked towards them.

Despite brandishing wooden spears and making threatening calls, they did not launch any attack.

They walked slowly, looking around at the vast tracts of farmland reclaimed by the new immigrants, their movements seemingly hesitant.

According to the division of power, this river valley should belong to the "farmland" of the nearby indigenous tribes.

Previously, the indigenous people planted some tuber crops similar to potatoes, but for some unknown reason, they abandoned the area, turning it into a grassy riverbank.

If it were last year, the management personnel of Xuanhamburg Village would have had to pay some grain, alcohol, or knives, tools, etc., to buy the land at a "fair price" if they wanted to develop this wasteland.

But half a month ago, more than a hundred strong men were added to the village, including more than ten armed police officers and spies from the Ministry of Internal Affairs' intelligence bureau. In terms of strength, the village now far surpasses any of the surrounding indigenous tribes.

Not to mention, the Xinhua immigrants were also equipped with muskets, swords, and spears. If they wanted to fight, they would absolutely crush those indigenous tribes who didn't even have much iron.

Therefore, the village officials decided to occupy it directly, treating this flat area of ​​the river valley as unclaimed land.

Well, why spend money if you can get something for free?

It is still extremely inconvenient to import supplies from the headquarters on Qiming Island.

Furthermore, given the extremely backward farming techniques of the natives, occupying this fertile land would be a complete waste of resources and a squandering of natural beauty.

The tribal chief led a group of his people closer and, gesturing wildly, shouted at the settlement leader, his expression very agitated. He was probably expressing his protest and accusing the Xinhua immigrants of encroaching on their land.

However, as the immigrants, armed with shovels and hoes, continued to gather around, the tribal chief's voice gradually lowered, and a hint of panic appeared on his face.

Even if someone is completely bad at counting, they can tell at a glance that they are outnumbered.

Moreover, the weapons these outsiders carry are much sharper and harder than their wooden spears, so if a conflict breaks out, they will likely suffer a great loss.

However, being forced to back down like this seems a bit like showing weakness.

The tribal chief was caught in a dilemma and led more than ten of his people to retreat.

"boom!"

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, startling both sides in the standoff.

After a moment of stunned silence, the locals turned and ran toward the riverbank, seemingly startled by the loud noise.

During winter hunting, they witnessed these outsiders wielding fire-breathing iron rods. After a few cracking sounds, a ferocious brown bear would fall to the ground in agony, powerless to resist, and be slaughtered at their mercy.

In their eyes, a hunter who can kill a brown bear is the bravest and most powerful warrior in the world.

These outsiders killed four brown bears in one winter with remarkable ease.

To be honest, the natives were quite wary of them and harbored a certain degree of fear.

Whether it's their formidable strength or the various amazing skills they possess, they are far superior to the tribespeople.

During the salmon run, these outsiders catch countless salmon by building dikes, dams, and trawling in rivers and streams, more than all the surrounding indigenous tribes combined.

Oh, this also caused great dissatisfaction among the natives.

Although their language does not yet contain the concept of "draining the pond to catch all the fish," they subconsciously believe that the overfishing by the Xinhua immigrants is incompatible with the natural development and change of all things.

Nowadays, they are seizing tribal lands, and their behavior is becoming increasingly domineering and uncontrollable.

Conflict seems unavoidable.
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(End of this chapter)