“The bottleneck with can food production is the can. Food can be cooked easily, and quickly. But the can? With the current rate of 5 hours per metal can, we’re barely putting out a can a day,” Siebe explained.
“What you’re proposing is?”
“Glass. We will use glass instead. It was what the first canned food in France used as a container. Get some glassblowers from the Cape, offer them decent wages, production will skyrocket.”
“It sounds good. But isn’t it brittle?”
“We could make the glass thicker to prevent it from breaking. The flimsy glass you’re used to won’t be created.”
“But there is still the chance, so what then? Especially if we are trekking into the Elfrican inland. If a sudden accident causes all our canned food to break, aren’t we screwed?”
“I thought of a good solution, especially for you Boers. You see, we could put them in boxes, and use straw to cushion them. The very same straw could be used to feed whatever ox or horse that you bring along, ensuring there is no wastage.”
“Hmm… We do have that coal mine that is up and running. Then there is the sand, which we have a lot of since we’re right by the sea…”
“I believe a Glassworks industry could be setup. It makes the most sense. Especially for future construction in the area. Cheap wood from all the trees nearby. Cotton grown by the local farmers. What is missing is cheap glass. Most of our current glass is imported. It is a good idea to drive construction costs to ensure cheap expansion.”
Jan tapped the table for quite some time.
“I could fund a couple of cotton plantations to drive down the price. The problem is that I fear the locals who already grow them might be angered with the sudden drop in price. But for the glass, sure, why not? Get me a couple of glassblowers. I presume your Belgian friend will have something to do with it?”
“He does business in the Cape Colony, so he’s rather familiar with the various industries there since he need to sell his machines to the locals. Yes, he will be able to sway some men experienced in glassblowing over here. You will need to provide incentives. For example, no tax for 5 -10 years to justify the decoupling from their previous supply chains in the Cape Colony.”
“Easy. My only requirements is that I want Boers to be trained in glassblowing, and partake in the working of the Glassworks. Other that, I have no other requests.”
“Excellent. And regarding the cheap cotton. Isn’t a simple solution to inform the Boers beforehand of your entry in the marketplace before the next planting season?”
“I would also need someone to administer the farms. I have no experience with cotton. I know though, that we are going to need to import cotton gins from the Americas. Mechanical ones.”
He checked the newly added Belgium clock in his office.
“Well, it seems it is time for me to do a walkabout of the various farming districts. I need to go on the ground and discuss with the various farmers about the issues they face.”
Siebe nodded and bid him goodbye.
Jan sighed.
The clock was a blessing, and a curse. He could better organize his time and felt more productive. But in what he felt in his previously timeless world, he felt a little more rushed since he could check the time whenever he wanted to.
There were numerous districts to pick from. Various corporals managed their districts fine, theoretically, he did not really have to intervene. Interesting things to note was that the districts with the most cattle were primarily concentrated by the Zulu border. When he asked the newly appointed bureaucrats about it, they went down and investigated it. Turns out, most of these men were like the cattle raiders. They earned many cattle fighting with Pretorius in the various battles against the Zulu and were rewarded for their efforts.
The recent cattle raid made by one of those errant districts had him worried, but the harsh punishment of the corporal who disappeared in Zululand should keep them in line. If it failed to keep them in line, then he could only apologize to the district’s widows and children who lost their husbands and fathers respectively. Then he will see if any of them will misbehave.
Most of them grew staple crops. Wheat, sorghum, or maize to feed their families. The corrals were constructed to keep the few cattle that these farmers kept. Most men dealt with the cattle, while the women dealt with crop cultivation. Children helped in the fields or played around. It was not a kind world like in the modern world, they couldn’t go to school, since they had to work in the fields. Crop failure would lead to starvation.
Manure from the cattle were gathered and slathered on the crops, acting as the fertilizer. He took some time to shove the image out of his mind. He did not… Definitely did not ‘indirectly eat manure’. He decided to personally partake in the washing of his food in the future, any brown dirt found in it shall perish! Oh, he wished for modern fertilizer, Fritz Haber, please be real and synthesize Ammonia, we need you!
Taking in a deep breath, he regained his cool. Some men recognized him and waved. He waved back.
The recent various incidents caused many problems for him, but due to him stepping in every one of them, he became more recognizable. He felt he had some influence amongst this folk whom he had kept very far away in the past.
The Corporal of the district greeted him before going into an introduction of the farms around him. The various families who lived there, any recent incidents, and various other bits of daily life he had no need of knowing. He walked about with the corporal and listened.
‘So, this is what being a politician is like… It’s kinda boring,’ He thought to himself as he listened to the corporal once more repeating the story for the fifth time. Your cattle gave birth! WOW!
He decided to cut his visit short and moved on to the next district. After the corporal finished his stories, he bid his goodbye and moved on. There were cash crops grown in some of the farms, tobacco, cassava, and good old sugarcane. They were grown in small amounts, supplementing their incomes.
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He made small talk with a couple of farmers as well as the corporal of the district and found it not too different from the previous district. He once again cut his visit short and decided to head right for the district he was here for.
The district that was corporal less, and the corporal’s widow took over her husband role as corporal. He was worried about getting shot, so he held his musket in his hands and kept his head low. It was not the only thing he worried about. It was likely the men were also pissed since he repossessed most of their cattle and sent them away to the Zulu. He changed his mind and decided to run straight back to the town. Gather the bureaucrats and bring a small force so he could ensure a small firefight didn’t break out.
“You’re the man who got my husband killed, ain’t you?” A husky feminine voice called out.
Like him, she held her musket in her hands. He immediately pointed it right at her.
“Woah, woah. Calm down, I’m not looking for a fight. If I had any problems with you, I would have shot you by going straight to the town hall. I think most of us would do so too.”
He lowered his musket and studied the woman.
She wore a red bonnet, with a black dress with a flower pattern done in a white thread. A white shawl was draped around her shoulders, while a red apron covered her front. A musket was held in her hand. Her physique was no damsel in distress that was for sure. He wondered if he could even lose arm-wrestling to her.
She smoked on a pipe, and as the pipe shook, some tobacco fell out. Removing it, she looked over him from head to toe.
“I can see what he meant by how you’re no typical Commando. Tell me, how many farms you own. I can guess, zero. Men like you don’t belong out here. You belong more to Cape Town.”
“No beef?”
“Zero. That fucker took a gamble and paid the price for it. I did warn him out of it, but what can I say, he never listened. I’ll have to raise my son myself, that fucker. So, you’re going to reappoint a new Corporal or what? I had to do his job for him too, bloody hell.”
“That depends. Any man volunteering to be the new corporal?”
“None. They're too busy crying at home about all the cattle that were taken away,” She paused, before mimicking their tone, “If we didn’t steal that cattle we could have still kept all that cattle, Aaahh! Why did I do that? Their wives are busy beating them up for it.”
“Literally, or figuratively?”
“You decide.”
“Well, more cattle will be taken away from the Zulus. They should be satisfied I didn’t send them all to the Zulus instead. We’ll be testing out Zulu methods of farming on this land. Since these experts have farmed here for thousands of years, I believe the yields would be increased. I hope for your cooperation in this regard in the next planting season.”
“I didn’t mind since you didn’t take away all the cattle. But here is where I draw the line. This deal sounds like it will take all the cattle from this district. I refuse. You can cancel the deal or get a bullet between your eyes. Your choice.”
Jan took a couple of steps back, a little intimidated by the fierceness of this woman.
“Of course not. I understand that milk is very important to the diet. I have no wish for turning this entire district destitute. It brings me no benefits after all to see you all become poorer. I need a token sum. One cattle per household. We’ll test out Zulu farming methods. The returns from these will surely be greater than whatever cattle lost.”
“Else?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if it is a complete disaster?” She removed her pipe, before enunciating more clearly, “Then what then? Who will return us the lost cattle? Or even repay us for the bad harvest?”
“If it turns out like that, I will be responsible. I will recompensate you for the expenses. I can procure cattle from the market for the various households. I will also procure food to ensure your families will tide the harvest.”
A white cattle chewing on some grass caught his eye.
“By the way, it’s that yours?”
“What about it?”
“I believe if we hand that over, the Zulus will be most satisfied.”
“Sure, why not. Nothing special about it, it’s just white. I want to be recompensated for the cattle. Get me another cattle, else.”
She pointed at the area of her face between her two eyes.
He decided that it was much better to deal with the men than the women. At least they weren’t that scary.
He had some bureaucrats swap cattle with the female Corporal, and locked the white cattle in the local town’s kraal, where all the farmers impounded their cattle during their stay in the town. This was so they wouldn’t be fined if their cattle decided to let out the brown fertilizer all over the ground. It was a mad dash for every farmer who reached the town. They had to pray as they urged the cattle forward right to the kraal, before shoving them into it.
Some unlucky farmers had cattle that couldn’t hold it in and gave free fertilizer to the ground outside the corral. Naturally, the officers who saw a free fine to be given out struck their prey with a ticket slapped on their cattle.
“This cattle is impounded until you pay up at the town hall. I know your name, Ruud. You’ve been fined numerous times before.”
“What do you mean by that, everyone I know has been fined numerous times before! Why be a dickhead!”
“Woah, woah, it looks like I need to increase the fine. Keep it up Ruud, and I’ll do it.”
The farmer swore right in the officer’s face, and headed straight for the town hall, ripping the ticket off his cattle’s ass.
Not all cattle were equal. And to the Zulus, certain types of cattle were more valuable than others. Cattle were their currency, but like currency, there are many denominations to it. It was just that cattle were a subjective currency. Its age, colour and breed affected the prices. And the value is determined based on the opposing’s party perceived value.
Shaka Zulu was known to prefer a white inyoni kayiphumuli breed. Inyoni Kayiphumuli is known as the bird which does not rest. Their hide was milky, and dark spots appeared around its ears and various other parts on its body. fAnyway, the Zulus have a fascination of white cows, and from his research, white cattle birthed by commoners were usually sent over to their queen as gifts. Thus, a white cow is considered a significant gift.
He didn’t need to go through the trouble of procuring one from every household. A simple white cow should suffice for the Zulus. Nokuthula wouldn’t have much trouble finding a use for such a cow. It could be given as a gift to others, or it can be simply milked until it died so that it can be eaten. It really depends on what one wanted to do with it. But cattle are definitely not useless. Perhaps except for the farmers whose cattle could not help but give free fertilizer to the streets.
And they would swear that their cattle were useless as a ticket was slapped on its ass, and the officer impounded it in the town’s kraal.
“I believe this should suffice,” He presented the kraal to Nokuthula. The return of trade has let the presence of Zulus been normalized in the town, and most Boers didn’t bat an eye. Except for the man who still put up those human supremacist posters. Like sir, we get it for the millionth time, ok, you won’t get any converts by putting it up by now.
“So, the whole kraal? What a generous gift,” Nokuthula remarked.
“What! No! Of course not! Are you Stu-, uh-hum, I mean that white cow. I believe that it should suffice, it is incredibly valuable.”
“It’s just a white cow,” Nokuthula motionlessly remarked.
“What do you mean it’s just a white cow! It’s precious! Do you ever see a cow with a hide that white! It is rare! Usually, you see a cow and there’s some other colour mixed in its hide! It’s special!”
Jan stopped, thinking that he was overselling things here.
Nokuthula shrugged.
“I will admit that white cows are rare, but it’s not something I must possess. It’s just a white cow. Should I jump around in glee, hug you and thank you for giving me a cow? It’s just a cow. Plus, I have plenty back at home.”
Rubbing his forehead, Jan sighed.
“Could you please accept this cow in place of numerous cattle? We are not too sure whether Zulu farming methods could be applied and integrated with the Boer way of life. So, do you consider this a payment for the time spent educating the farmers of the district?"
"Of course, I won't say no to free cattle, but I prefer to have the whole kraal." You mind handing over the entire kraal? The Boers have wronged us. I think that all the cattle of the kraal would be enough to put an end to our troubles.
“No. Take the livestock and leave.
“Fine.”