Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 384 An Lan
The afterglow of the setting sun dyed the sea surface of Taihe Bay (now Galapan Bay on Saipan) amber, and the wooden pier creaked under the gentle caress of the tide.

A fishing boat was slowly approaching the shore. The tuna piled up in the hold shimmered with a silvery-blue luster in the twilight. Several sea turtles, their limbs bound by ropes, were emitting muffled panting.

On the bank, five or six shirtless men had already rolled up their trousers and were standing in the shallow water. Their bronze backs were covered with fine beads of sweat, which gleamed in the setting sun.

The leader, Chen the Big Guy, grabbed the thrown cable and tied it into a tight knot around the wooden stake three times.

"Not bad luck today!" Big Chen peeked into the cabin and grinned.

Ding Xiaoman jumped off the boat. The seawater was over her ankles, and the coolness instantly dispelled the heat of the whole day.

"The ocean current has changed direction, and the fish are all swimming north. If we had been an hour or two later, this trip would have been a waste." He said, taking a water bottle from his waist and taking a big gulp.

In the distance, Zhao Shuanzhu, the village headman on the stockade wall, squinted and tapped his fingers lightly on the ledger.

He was nearly thirty, but the lines on his face were deeper than his actual age, and a scar on his left cheek stretched from his brow bone to his chin—a souvenir from five years ago when he decisively defeated the Spanish army on Qiming Island.

"Xiaoman! How's the harvest today?" Village head Zhao Shuanzhu stood on the low wall of the wooden village, holding a ledger in his hand, and shouted to the fisherman.

"Thanks to Zhao Tou, we caught hundreds of big fish, enough for everyone to eat for a few days!" Ding Xiaoman wiped the salt stains off his face and grinned. "It's just that we seem to be running low on coarse salt. I'm afraid the salted fish won't last until the supply ship arrives in a few months."

Zhao Shuanzhu frowned, then turned to the clerk Hu Wenhuan beside him and whispered, "Write this down. Next time the ship comes, ask for a few more loads of coarse salt."

Hu Wenhuan nodded, his pen gliding across the bamboo paper, and added, "We also need a few more barrels of gunpowder. A few days ago, a typhoon hit the island and ripped half of the warehouse roof off, and all the gunpowder was soaked in water. Mao Erhu said that after the gunpowder was dried again, it was mixed with too many impurities, and its potency might not be enough."

"Okay, I understand," Zhao Shuanzhu replied, then patted the short knife at his waist. "Damn it, even without gunpowder, I can still take care of those naked bumpkins. Last year when they came to steal taro, they were so scared they ran away with their tails between their legs, dropping several baskets. Now they avoid our Xinhua flag like the plague."

“Chief Zhao, we must not be careless,” Hu Wenhuan said seriously. “Even if the natives pose no threat to us, we cannot let our guard down against the Spanish, who are hundreds of kilometers to the south.”

"Hmph!" Zhao Shuanzhu scoffed. "A few Spaniards on the southern island dare to threaten our Anlan Island (present-day Saipan)? Besides, they might not even have any large ships coming over there!"

“With only a few hundred kilometers of sea route, why would we need any large ships?” Hu Wenhuan shook his head and said, “The natives on the island can travel hundreds or even thousands of kilometers across this sea area with just small dugout canoes. Besides, don’t think that just because the Spanish are few in number, they won’t dare to come and attack us.”

"They could easily conscript some native savages as cannon fodder and servants. As long as they are equipped with the appropriate swords, spears, or matchlock guns, they would be a force to be reckoned with. The higher-ups have also said that Anlan Island, which we currently occupy, is nominally owned by the Spanish. It's quite possible that after learning of our existence in Taihe Fort (now Galapan), they will send troops to drive us out."

"Alright, alright... I know." Zhao Shuanzhu waved his hand impatiently, turned around, and went down the stockade wall.

"Zhao Tou, where are you going?... It'll be dinner time soon."

"I'm going to check how the sugarcane is growing in the field," Zhao Shuanzhu said without turning his head. "The higher-ups are quite concerned about these trial-planted sugarcane. They said that in a few years, we'll start our own sugar industry."

"...Tsk tsk, if our Anlan Island were suitable for growing sugarcane, it would probably attract quite a few immigrants. That would make this place very lively!"

Two years ago, when this group of people was secretly sent here by the Immigration and Colonization Department, Taihe Bay was still a barren beach, covered with low shrubs and mangroves.

Today, a wooden village covering an area of ​​200 meters has been built on the gentle slope of the coast. Several plots of farmland of varying sizes, totaling about 40 mu, have been cultivated around it, where vegetables, corn, and local traditional crops such as cassava and taro are planted.

Although most of the food still needed to be transported from the mainland by immigrant fleets, the region had achieved a certain degree of self-sufficiency.

In March of this year, after a replenishment of personnel, there are now more than 120 immigrants on the island. With a large number of firearms and a crude wooden bastion, they can basically protect themselves unless they encounter hundreds of fully armed Spanish regular troops.

Although the new Chinese settlers had not yet engaged in in-depth exchanges and contact with the local indigenous people, they were able to determine, based on careful observation and simple exchanges of goods over the past year, that the indigenous people posed no threat to them whatsoever.

These indigenous peoples are still in a very low social stage (belonging to a matrilineal clan society), and basically live in tribes. Each tribe is composed of several families, with a number of people ranging from thirty to fifty to a hundred.

The tribe practices simple division of labor and cooperation, and relies mainly on fishing and primitive agriculture to maintain its survival.

Women in indigenous tribes hold a high status and are responsible for managing household affairs and allocating resources.

However, the tribal chief is a family elder or a man with military or religious authority, who is responsible for coordinating tribal affairs and foreign negotiations.

Less than two kilometers from Taihe Fort, there is an indigenous tribe with a population of about forty.

They would trade taro, bananas, coconuts, and fish with the new Chinese in exchange for valuable ironware and other rare items.

Sometimes, the new Chinese residents of Taihe Fort would hire these indigenous people as payment, such as salt, spices, and wine, to help them build forts, level fields, and dig ditches. Over the course of a year, they managed to maintain a relatively harmonious and friendly relationship.

When Zhao Shuanzhu arrived at the sugarcane field, he saw Liu Shouye, who was in charge of cultivating sugarcane, squatting on the edge of the field, "talking" with a Chamorro boy using pen and paper.

The boy handed him a freshly picked coconut, gesturing with his hands to indicate that he should open it.

Liu Shouye smiled, rummaged in his pocket for a while, and then took out a penny and stuffed it into the hands of the local boy.

The other person grinned, waved his hand, and pointed to a sugarcane that was almost as tall as a person, indicating that he wanted to break off a stalk and taste it.

Liu Shouye smiled and shook his head, gesturing with his hands to indicate that the sugarcane was not yet ripe and could not be eaten.

"Old Liu, why are you wasting your breath talking to him!" Zhao Shuanzhu approached and said with a stern face.

“Hehe, if we’re going to establish ourselves here long-term, we should at least get along well with the local people.” Liu Shouye stood up from the edge of the field and shielded the Chamorro boy behind him. “Actually, they’re quite easy to get along with and not very aggressive.”

When the boy saw Zhao Shuanzhu approaching with a fierce look, a hint of fear appeared on his face, and he kept backing away.

"No aggression?" Zhao Shuanzhu's lips curled into a sneer. "Then you haven't seen their ferocious appearance! You probably don't know, but these indigenous tribes also fight and kill each other, and they like to cut off the heads of their enemies alive, then tie them to their waists, or display them in their thatched huts as decorations."

"So you have to be careful, or you might end up with your head cut off and still think the other person is easy to get along with."

"Is it really that bad?" Upon hearing this, Liu Shouye turned to look at the gentle and honest Chamorro boy.

"You can't be too careful!" Zhao Shuanzhu said as he walked into the sugarcane field.

He squatted down and inserted his fingers into the soil to check the soil temperature.

"The ground is a little dry." Liu Shouye followed behind, his right hand brushing against a sugarcane stalk.

"What should we do then?" Zhao Shuanzhu straightened up, glanced at the sparsely growing sugarcane, and frowned. "Should we release water from the North Canal tomorrow? And try to find some fish bones and seaweed to bury in it? Damn it, this soil is much harder to manage than the soil on Qiming Island. Look at how badly these sugarcane are growing!"

"There's nothing we can do about it." Liu Shouye shook his head helplessly. "The survival rate of transplanted sugarcane is usually less than 60%, and the soil we've cultivated here isn't fertile enough, so we can only make do. But at least it proves one thing: sugarcane can be grown here."

"That's good. As long as we can grow sugarcane, it will naturally attract the attention of the higher-ups. Who knows, they might bring over hundreds or even thousands of immigrants for us." Zhao Shuanzhu was full of wonderful fantasies.

“I think even if the island were planted with sugarcane, transporting it back to the mainland would be a difficult task,” Liu Shouye said. “If the ships were to return directly east, they would be going against the wind and current the whole way, which would probably take three to five months. But if they were to go around the ocean and take the Kuroshio Current back to the mainland, that would also take several months.”

"Tell me, with all this time and effort spent transporting it back, this sugarcane must fetch an astronomical price!"

"What idiot would just transport the sugarcane back home!" Zhao Shuanzhu looked at him with disdain. "Since we grow a lot of sugarcane here, we should definitely build a sugar factory and grind the sugar directly!"

"Didn't you see the jars of white sugar that the immigrant fleet left us a few months ago? If we can make this kind of sugar, we can ship it directly to the Ming Dynasty, Japan, or Southeast Asia and exchange it for ingots of silver."

"..." Upon hearing this, Liu Shouye's eyes lit up immediately. "Hey, Zhao, you're quick-witted! I reckon that's what the higher-ups mean too, right?"

"More or less!" Zhao Shuanzhu nodded with feigned modesty, then turned his gaze to the ditch to the north. "Once the rainy season is over, we need to find a way to gather the local people from the surrounding area and expand the reservoir. Otherwise, all the rainwater will just flow into the sea in vain!"

"You mean..." Liu Shouye's heart skipped a beat.

"If they are obedient, give them some benefits."

"What if they don't submit to our conscription?"

"..." Zhao Shuanzhu glanced at him, "If they won't even do it if you offer them benefits, then they really are a bunch of stubborn savages. Our Chinese ancestors once said, 'Those who obey prosper, those who defy perish.' Hmm, there's some truth to that."

After hearing this, Liu Shouye stared at him blankly.

Hiss, he really is a retired veteran; there was a hint of ruthlessness in his words.

At this moment, on the distant horizon, a wisp of dark cloud was swallowing the last rays of the sunset, while smoke from the wooden village, carrying the smell of fish, rose and intertwined with the twilight to form a deep purple hue.
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(End of this chapter)