**Chapter 38**
**Dams and Irrigation (4)**
Joseph Locke, CEO of Locke Precision Machinery, was carrying out the task assigned to him by the company's owner, the Crown Prince.
"This isn't really in the category of precision machinery. It's just agricultural machinery. Some of it isn't even machinery, just tools."
"Well... The Crown Prince is very interested in agriculture, isn't he?"
One of his subordinates replied.
Those who had graduated from the "Mining University," the only place in Mexico where they could learn something resembling engineering, all flocked to the Crown Prince's company.
Joseph Locke was teaching them while working.
"Well, I was surprised when I saw that mechanical reaper. To invent that kind of machine himself, he's an amazing person in many ways."
Joseph Locke was being ordered to create things that were hard to call precision machinery.
"A steam-powered plow and mechanical reaper... These are fun to make, but seed drills and sprinklers... It's hard to call them machines."
"Can I take those on myself?"
"Alright. Go ahead. I can't help it, I don't have time for other things besides improving locomotives."
"Thank you!"
"So, in addition to the existing mechanical reaper, we'll make it easier to sow seeds with a seed drill and easier to irrigate with irrigation facilities... At this rate, agriculture will soon surpass even England. We're already a step ahead in steelmaking and railroads. I guess I made a good bet."
The rapid development of the Mexican Empire's national power within the Crown Prince's designs eradicated even the slightest anxiety that had existed in Joseph's heart.
The steam-powered plow and reaper were surprisingly quick to make. They shared many core components with the locomotive.
The seed drill and sprinkler were also simple, so they were made quickly.
"But what's with this price? I think we could sell it for double this price and still sell out. Why only leave a minimal profit?"
It was a radical pricing policy. It wasn't a loss or unprofitable, but it was priced to leave a minimal margin.
"It seems like it's a price set to quickly distribute it throughout the Mexican Empire."
"···We're not a state-owned enterprise, you know. It's fortunate that we can export it to foreign countries at a higher price."
Even amidst his busy schedule, the Crown Prince was constantly giving tasks to various companies.
That's how a day went by at Locke Precision Machinery.
***
"My fellow tribesmen! How long will you continue to be dragged around by their orders? They think of us as beasts. They stole our land, where we've lived for thousands of years, and now they're trying to enslave us. Will you surrender to them?"
Paku was appealing to the entire Chumash tribe. The tide had already turned. The strong young men of the tribe were following him, not the chief, Mishópshno, but his son, Paku.
Paku never forgot the humiliating life in the mission. His father, Mishópshno, the chief, had surrendered to the power of the guns they possessed in his youth, and he had mistaken it for immense power, but now they know.
It's just a weapon that anyone can use.
Paku had diligently learned Spanish since childhood, enough to be praised by the missionaries. But the missionaries only saw him as a slightly smarter beast, never treating him as a human being. Knowing that, he used his position as the chief's son to rally the young people.
Seven years after escaping the mission, the opportunity had finally come.
"I will never! Surrender! Until we regain our freedom!"
"Waaa!"
"Paku! Paku! Paku!"
"Paku! Paku! Paku!"
The eyes of the elders of the tribe, watching the young people's enthusiasm, were filled with worry. They had experienced in their youth that their weapons were impossible to fight against.
"Does history repeat itself..."
"They won't listen to us. We were like that when we were young."
While some elders were worried, some middle-aged people still had passion left.
"No, elders! We can learn from our failures and do better this time! How many of our comrades are still being forced to work in the missions under the guise of 'civilization'?"
The Chumash tribe who escaped the mission. Their number had already exceeded 3,000.
The atmosphere of struggle, which began with the young people, spread.
The indigenous people of California suffered terrible hardships from the diseases, land theft, exploitation, poverty, and cultural destruction brought by the Europeans.
They had been forced to endure their suffering under the weight of their overwhelming weapons, but now even that had reached its limit.
It was time to show that even a trampled worm can wriggle.
"When we were young, weren't there dozens of villages of our tribe around here? Our population, which was 20,000, has been halved in 20 years. To just sit and do nothing is the same as saying let's all die, isn't it?"
The tide had already turned, but the chief is the chief.
The Chumash tribe could only unite if he officially declared a struggle.
"···Alright."
Mishópshno had no choice but to give permission after relentless persuasion. It was what his son and most of the tribesmen wanted. He just prayed.
"Hu-ta-shi-shi, please protect them."
As soon as the chief's permission was granted, the Chumash warriors immediately began to prepare. They had already planned everything. They had heard countless stories from the elders who had fought against the Spanish army 20 years ago.
They wouldn't charge blindly like before.
"Listen up, everyone. We're attacking tonight. Taléy, are the horses well-fed?"
Paku explained the operation he had been planning for a long time.
"Yes. I check all 200 of them every day. They're all healthy."
They had stolen horses from various settlements. They had also robbed those who were foolishly wandering around alone, digging for gold.
"We're going to seize their armory."
"What about the guys guarding the armory?"
"I saw that they were foolishly carrying torches in the dark. They'll be easy targets. If we can hit them with slings, the rest will be easy. They're weak without those 'muskets.' Síkar, Yána, you can do it, right?"
Síkar and Yána are the most famous and skilled slingers in the tribe.
"Leave it to us."
The Chumash tribe was smarter and more ruthless than 20 years ago. The children who were just kids 20 years ago had been waiting for this moment.
They had scouted dozens of settler villages. And Paku, who had learned Spanish while in the mission, had gathered a lot of information. They had even practiced attacking small villages.
"There will be at least 500 muskets in the armory. We'll figure out how to use them, strengthen our forces, and attack another settlement. If we do that a few times, we can collect over a thousand muskets. Then, they won't be able to treat us so lightly."
"We need to kidnap the technicians and use them."
"Right. Blacksmiths and weapon makers. We'll bring them."
"What about the rest?"
"Kill them."
Someone asked, and another person replied, but Paku thought differently.
"No. We won't kill the rest. Then, they'll go crazy and chase us. Our priority is to quickly plunder the settlements in California and build up our strength. Instead, we'll take everything we can: weapons, food, metal objects, clothing, everything."
Paku had given up for a long time.
He couldn't see any way to defeat those heinous invaders. But now, he sees a glimmer of hope.
"They built dozens of settlements with hundreds of people each. Finally, the perfect opportunity has come. A chance to live without suffering."
***
Whizz-
Thwack!
"Ugh!"
Whizz-
A fist-sized stone flying from the darkness hit a guard guarding the armory in Los Angeles.
"What? What..."
Thwack!
"Ugh!"
"As expected, Síkar, Yána. The tribe's best marksmen are different."
"This is easy. How can they guard anything when they can't even see something so close?"
"Hah. You did a good job anyway. There are only two guards guarding the armory, so we'll seize it quickly."
Paku ran ahead of everyone. He opened the armory door with anticipation, but
Clank!
Paku grabbed the door again and shook it.
Clank!
"Damn it, it's locked."
"Paku. When I was hiding last time, I saw these guys take out some kind of metal pin from their pockets and unlock it."
"Oh? Right, there was something like that. Search their pockets."
Paku said that and started searching the guard's pockets.
"Found it! Do I put it in like this?"
Beep-beep-beep-
While they were struggling with the armory door, a sharp sound echoed from somewhere. A guard on the other side came to check the sound of the door opening, spotted them, and raised the alarm.
"Damn it, do something! The rest of you, attack anyone who resists!"
Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-
The bell started ringing, signaling an attack.
Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-
"Do something about that guy!"
Whizz-
Thwack!
A stone from Síkar's sling hit the guard who was ringing the bell in the head.
Los Angeles, the capital of California, was under attack.
***
Reginald's letter arrived. The contents were unusual.
"The California settlements were attacked? The Rios Express guards drove them off..."
Something feels off.
If you think about it, it's still 1830. It's not the time when the Native Americans were wiped out by the Americans.
"I'm sure they estimated that there were 200,000 Native Americans in California alone around 1810. Tsk... That's a lot."
I knew there would be Native Americans, but I mistakenly thought that a few dozen guards with guns could stop them. Thinking about it again, it's not that simple.
Some California Native Americans were suffering under Spain's missionary policy. But Spain had no intention of spending a lot of money to develop the north, so they only had a small presence there, and most of the Native Americans were still living in their homeland.
They started dying in earnest after the Americans began developing California in the late 1840s. The population of California Indians decreased to 15,000 by the late 19th century.
"That means there are still over 100,000 people alive now. And that's just California. There will be tens of thousands in each of the northern states. I started large-scale settlement in that situation. Damn it."
My large-scale settlement, which I started, is driving them out and fueling their anger.
"Your Majesty, it's Alfonso. May I come in?"
Alfonso's voice came while I was thinking about what to do.
"Come in!"
Alfonso entered.
"What brings you to Morelia?"
"Your Majesty, I have urgent news to report. There have been simultaneous incidents of Native Americans stealing horses from various settlements in California."
"Stealing horses? ...That's not a good sign."
"Yes. I've been looking into it, and it seems that many Native Americans have escaped from missions in California in recent years. I think it might be them."
"Stealing horses? This is not something to take lightly."
In the original timeline, the Native Americans of North America died from diseases brought by the whites, died while being forced to leave their homeland and move, died from bullets and cannons, and even died just for fun.
In the process, the Indians became more ruthless.
The power of anger and hatred became the driving force for them to steal horses and guns and learn tactics to fight the whites.
The power of their resentment was so strong that there are records of them winning against American militias and even regular armies.
The Americans, who thought they were primitive, were enraged when they started taking weapons, killing Americans, and plundering villages.
In the end, the Indians were defeated and wiped out, but in this world, this is just the beginning.
"The chain of hatred is difficult to break the longer it lasts. I need to take care of this immediately."
At this point in time, their resentment, ruthlessness, and combat ability wouldn't be that strong yet. Of course, it varies from region to region, and there are large tribes like the Comanches who have already started to develop some combat ability, but the Indians of California aren't at that level yet.
"Originally, the Comanches also eventually lost to the Americans and declined, but now they're living on our land, so I need to take care of them too."
The Comanches, who live near New Mexico, where settlement hasn't even begun, are for later. The California side, where settlements have already been built, is more urgent.
"Damn it. The dam construction is still in full swing."
After making up my mind, I immediately left the tent and went to Andres' tent.
"Mr. Andres! Are you asleep?"
"No, Your Majesty! Please come in."
"I'm sorry to come so suddenly at night. But there's an urgent matter. Can you take over the rest of the dam and irrigation construction?"
Andres, taken aback by the sudden question, quickly replied calmly.
"Yes, Your Majesty. We've already completed about half of it, and I've explained to you several times how it's going to proceed and how it's going to be finished, so don't worry. I'll take care of it."
I patted Andres on the shoulder and said.
"Thank you! Remember this. I'm counting on you!"
"Yes! Your Majesty!"
A bad feeling filled my mind.
I moved frantically, catching the last train to Mexico City with Alfonso.
The train in the dark evening.
The only passengers were me and Alfonso, who had a dark expression.
"You don't need to worry so much. It's thanks to you that we can respond quickly."
It was also a message to myself.
From now on, it's a race against time.
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