Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 361 West Coast
On December 18, 1637, the north wind, carrying ice shards, crashed against the gray brick wall, and long icicles hung from the eaves, gleaming coldly in the twilight.

Inside, the fire pit was burning brightly, the pine wood crackling and casting flickering light on the dozen or so faces.

They sat around a long table, eating peanuts and dried salted fish, drinking potato liquor, chatting and gossiping.

Their rough hands caressed the earthenware bowls, and the rising steam from the liquor blurred the dim oil lamps, casting shadows of varying depths on everyone's faces.

"This year, the government banned hunting in Dongping and Guangfeng, so we have nowhere to hunt for furs in the winter!" Old Zhao took a swig of liquor, his Adam's apple bobbing violently, and his face showed a hint of depression. "I was thinking that I could take advantage of the winter off-season to hunt some furs and exchange them for money to buy new clothes for each of my little ones."

"Hehe, even if the government hadn't banned hunting, it's hard to find good pelts in the surrounding forests anymore." Li Ergou shook his head with a wry smile, rubbed the peanuts in his hand, and popped them into his mouth. "I remember last year, the traps we set in the ditch only caught two otters. ... Five or six years ago, we would have gotten at least ten pelts!"

His rough fingers traced circles on the table, the knuckles still bearing the scars of frostbite from last winter.

“That’s right! In the past ten years or so, not only have we often gone into the forest to hunt for fur in winter, but those natives have been chasing prey all year round. Even if those animals keep giving birth all year round, we will still kill them all!” Chen Dashuan said, tearing at a piece of dried fish.

"So you're not going to hunt for furs this winter?" Old Zhao's brows furrowed into a deep frown.

At only thirty years old, he had been worn down by the hardships of life and turned into "Old Zhao," with a few strands of white hair already visible at his temples.

“If we want to hunt furs, we don’t necessarily have to go to Dongping and Guangfeng counties,” Wei Sanping, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke up.

"Huh?..." Upon hearing this, everyone turned to look at him.

“I’ve heard that there are few indigenous tribes on the west coast of Qiming Island, and not many immigrant settlements either. The animals in the forest probably haven’t been completely wiped out yet.” He dipped his rough fingers in the wine and drew a crooked line on the table. “Starting from Shixing Port, it won’t take more than a few days to reach Dayu Port (now Renfrew Port on Vancouver Island) or Changping Fort (now Tofino Town on Vancouver Island).

"If there aren't many fur-bearing animals over there, we can cross the strait to the mainland on the other side. Presumably, the population there is even sparser, and the number of fur-bearing animals is extremely large. Then, we can catch as many as we want!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the room fell silent, with only the occasional crackling of the firewood in the hearth.

The firelight illuminated the faces of the crowd, revealing deep wrinkles, numerous scars, and a yearning for wealth in their eyes.

"The west bank?...The mainland on the other side?" Wang Xiaoshan shrank back, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the short knife at his waist. "Wouldn't those places be...dangerous?"

"Danger?" Chen Dashuan grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. "What danger? Are you afraid the natives there will rob us? ... What a joke! We'll definitely bring muskets when we get there. If they try to stop us, we'll blast a big hole in their stomachs!"

"Shall we go to the west coast or the southern continent?" Old Zhao asked directly, seemingly unconcerned about the potential dangers.

“Let’s go to the west coast.” Li Ergou looked at everyone. “Starting from Shixing Port, at least we can follow the coastline all the way. If we encounter big storms, we can go ashore to take shelter at any time. If we cross the wide strait to the southern mainland, the sea may be a bit dangerous.”

As a northerner, I have a natural fear of the sea and am unwilling to travel far across the ocean.

Walking close to the coastline, although you may encounter sea waves, is still closer to land, which gives you a sense of security.

"Yes, Er Gou is right, let's go to the west coast." Old Zhao agreed, then looked at the people in the room, waiting for their reply.

The room fell silent again.

A spark burst from the firewood in the hearth, illuminating everyone's eyes.

"Alright, let's go to the west coast." Chen Dashuan gulped down the liquor in his bowl. "My wife is about to give birth again, so I need to prepare some good food for her to help her recover!"

"Count me in too." Wang Lao Er, who was squatting by the fire pit, suddenly stuck the firewood into the charcoal ash.

"Then, I'll go too."

"And I……"

Outside, the wind and snow intensified, and the bare branches of the pine trees creaked and groaned in the wind.

The firelight burned ever brighter, casting the silhouettes of a dozen or so men against the wall, like a herd of migrating wild buffalo, silent and resolute.
-
January 12, light snow.

At the south dock of Shixing Port, the cold wind swirled fine snowflakes along the wooden boardwalk, and a small oared sailboat swayed gently with the waves, its taut ropes creaking.

"Old Wei, are you sure this trip will work?" Old Zhao wrapped his deerskin coat tighter around himself, and the white breath he exhaled quickly dissipated in the cold wind.

He rubbed his hands, which were red from the cold, and stared at the gray sea in the distance, his heart pounding.

"What are you afraid of?" Wei Sanping squatted at the bow of the boat, stuffing the last few pieces of dry food into a sack—corn cakes, dried salted fish, potato chunks, and a few jars of liquor.

Without looking up, his voice was as rough as sandpaper rubbing against wood: "The sailors who are in charge of the ship are all old sea dogs from the Third Shipping Company (Xinhua Third Shipping Company, which mainly deals with near-shore freight). They would never feed us to the fish in the sea."

"It's a bit cold today." Li Ergou, carrying several muskets, crossed the pier and boarded the boat.

His steps were a little unsteady, clearly because he hadn't slept well the night before. Muttering to himself, he went straight into the cabin.

"It's better to be cold." Following closely behind was Wang Xiaoshan, carrying a burlap sack filled with an iron pot, salt, and some spare clothes. "The fur is thick; it'll fetch a bit more money."

Captain Zhou Dajiang walked over, squinted at the sky, and said, "The wind isn't strong today, we can sail. But you have to hurry, the weather at sea can change in an instant this time of year."

Upon hearing this, everyone swallowed hard and looked back at the outline of the port area—crowded cargo yards and warehouses, clattering horse-drawn carriages, and the red five-star flag fluttering atop the towering customs building.

Last night, my wife kept nagging me, saying that going to the West Coast was too risky.

But what can be done?
As one baby after another was born, the family's expenses increased. They needed to buy bird droppings from the fields, pens, ink, and paper for the children's schooling, and there was also the dream of a big red brick house. None of these things cost money.
"Let's go!" Wei Sanping waved vigorously at the crowd, shouldered a large bag, and boarded the boat.

His silhouette appeared exceptionally resolute in the morning light, like a bronze statue.
-
The sea wasn't very rough, but the small boat rocked violently.

Li Ergou leaned over the side of the boat and vomited twice, his face turning blue.

Wei Sanping handed him a piece of ginger candy: "Hold it in your mouth, it'll help you feel better."

"Thank you..." Li Ergou nodded weakly, stuffed the ginger candy into his mouth, and frowned at the spicy taste.

Looking at the gray sea in the distance, he suddenly said, "Actually, thinking about life now, being able to eat our fill, wear warm clothes, and have our own house and land, we should be quite content."

"In the Ming Dynasty, this would be something we wouldn't even dare to dream of. But we're taking such risks to come to the west coast to hunt for furs and make some extra money. Isn't that a bit too greedy?"

Old Zhao chuckled, pulled out a handkerchief with crooked embroidery from his pocket, and wiped his face: "The little brat needs to eat meat, wear new clothes, his wife needs to take care of her belly, and we need to save up for the child's dowry and bride price in the future. What doesn't cost money? Besides, we've finished our military training in the winter, so we're just sitting around doing nothing. Why not come out and find some furs to make some money?"

As he spoke, his eyes remained fixed on the crooked "福" (fortune) character on the handkerchief, a mark left by his eight-year-old daughter when she first learned embroidery.

The others remained silent and did not respond.

Yes, which of these people didn't crawl out of piles of corpses in the Ming Dynasty?
The Jurchen's sword, the snow of Liaodong, the famine of Dongjiang, the raging storms and towering waves of the sea...

It is a great blessing for everyone to have lived to this day.

Besides, having children means you've ensured your lineage continues; what's there to fear about dying? The worst thing is living a miserable life!
By evening of the second day, they finally saw the outline of the western coast of Qiming Island—steep cliffs rose abruptly from the sea like the teeth of giants, dense fir forests covered the hillsides, and the cold light reflected from the distant snow-capped mountains stung their eyes.

The sea breeze carries the fragrance of pine forests, mixed with the salty smell of the sea, giving one a sense of primal ruggedness.

As the boat approached the shore, the tide was receding, revealing the wet reefs.

Wei Sanping was the first to jump off the boat, his leather boots sinking into the black sand with a "crunch".

This is a secluded bay, with towering ancient trees growing along the shore, their canopies covered with a thin layer of snow.

He looked up at the sky; dark clouds were gathering, like a flock of black crows circling overhead.

“We need to set up a makeshift camp quickly,” he shouted to the others, his voice echoing in the empty bay. “I reckon it’s going to snow tonight!”

After some exploration, as darkness fell, they chose a sheltered spot under a rocky cliff, cut down a few small trees about the size of a bowl, and built a simple shed with tarpaulin.

Chen Dashuan and Li Ergou went to the woods to collect firewood, while Wei Sanping stood on a high slope, looking out in the twilight to find a suitable road into the mountains.

The distant forest resembled a dark green ocean, appearing mysterious and dangerous in the twilight.

The galley did not linger there. After agreeing to pick up the passengers in half a month, it raised its sails again and prepared to head to Yongjiabao (now Port Abney) to transfer a batch of copper.

"Tomorrow we'll head northeast." Wei Sanping came down from the high slope, exhaling a puff of white breath. "There seems to be a small river there. In winter, beavers build their nests in the riverbed. Maybe we'll even encounter some plump otters, or big guys like foxes or brown bears."

"The bears should be sleeping at this time, so we won't be able to hunt them, right?" Li Ergou, carrying a large bundle of firewood, couldn't help but ask upon hearing this, "By the way, what if we run into some natives in the forest?"

Wei Sanping smiled and kicked a few sacks on the ground. Inside were supplies for the dozen or so people, as well as some salt, seasonings, glass beads, and liquor.

“Then give them some trinkets,” he said casually. “If they refuse to accept them…”

He didn't finish speaking, but his eyes turned to the several muskets hanging in the shed.

The shed fell silent for a moment, with only the crackling of burning firewood.
-
The next morning, it did indeed snow, but it was just fine snowflakes that didn't significantly affect visibility.

Two men were left to guard the camp, while more than ten men, carrying muskets and long knives, slowly advanced along a small river.

Wei Sanping walked at the front, using a long spear to occasionally push aside the bushes blocking his way.

Chen Dashuan and the others followed in a line, carrying muskets, ropes, and some traps.

"There's movement!" Wei Sanping suddenly squatted down and pointed to the fresh footprints on the snow—they were beaver footprints.

They followed the footprints to a frozen river bend, where nests made of branches and mud were piled up on the riverbank, like a small fortress.

Wei Sanping made a hand gesture, and the group dispersed, quietly setting up several lassos in the vicinity.

Waiting is the hardest part.

The cold wind lashed at his face like a knife. Li Ergou's leather boots had sunk into a ditch in the river and gotten a little wet, and his toes were now numb with cold.

Just as they were growing extremely impatient, the trap in the distance suddenly clicked.

"Gotcha!" Li Ergou exclaimed in a low voice and rushed over excitedly.

It was a plump beaver with glossy fur that stood out against the snow.

Chen Dashuan swiftly ended its suffering, then tied it up with a rope and held it by the hand.

"This one can sell for at least seven or eight cents." He weighed it in his hand with satisfaction. "If things go smoothly for the next few days, I can catch dozens of them, and this trip will be worth it."

"Shh!..."

Wei Sanping raised his right hand high, his eyes fixed on a faint white figure in the distance.

A beautiful snow fox!

It stood on a protruding rock, its fur almost blending into the snow, except for its pair of bright black eyes, which gleamed with a wary light like two jewels.

Wei Sanping slowly moved forward, raising his musket with a gentle sway.

His breathing became light and slow, and his finger gently rested on the trigger.

The snow fox seemed to sense danger; its ears perked up warily, and its nose twitched incessantly…

"boom!"

A gunshot rang out, and a pool of blood immediately gushed out on the snow.
-
Two weeks later, the ship returned fully loaded.

The deck was piled high with beaver, fox, and mink pelts, some still stained with undried blood.

The group was exhausted but excited, and they all started calculating how much money they could get for it.

"This fox pelt is in good condition; it's worth at least three yuan!"

"Those few beaver pelts aren't much, but they can still fetch four or five dollars together..."

Wei Sanping did not participate in the discussion.

He squatted at the stern of the boat, drinking liquor to warm himself up while silently wiping a steel knife.

The hunt was quite successful. After deducting everyone's expenses and boat rental costs, each person received about seven or eight dollars.

But he was not at ease. Although there were many more wild animals in the forest than in Dongping and Guangfeng, it was not a situation where animals roamed everywhere.

Moreover, they discovered that there were many traps set by the natives in the forest, indicating that they, under the influence of the new Chinese, were also frantically hunting animals there for their fur.

This year has been quite successful, but what about next year?

What about the year after next?
"What are you thinking about?" Old Zhao walked over and handed him a piece of salted fish.

Chen Dashuan took the dog, took a bite, and chewed slowly: "I'm wondering, what will we do when all the fur is gone?"

Old Zhao gazed at the distant horizon, remained silent for a long while, then suddenly laughed: "Then let's find other ways to make a living. Our Xinhua is newly established; opportunities abound. Why worry about not having a path to take later?"

The ship sailed towards Shixing Port, bathed in the setting sun.
-
(End of this chapter)