Out of the 67,500 Ruble payment for the hay, I took 20,000 Rubles for myself.
This was because all the agricultural machinery and horses belonged to me, and the hay seeds had been purchased entirely with my own money.
After that, the people who had come with me from Joseon, including Taeseok, divided 40,000 Rubles among themselves.
Since these were the people who had cultivated the 500 Dessiatines of newly reclaimed land this year, I considered this a natural reward.
Next, I distributed 7,000 Rubles to the Sidimi Joseon people who were originally living there, and finally, I paid 500 Rubles as wages to the newly immigrated Joseon people.
They had contributed their labor to the autumn hay harvest.
Naturally, those who immigrated after the autumn harvest was finished received no share.
While it might seem a bit cold-hearted, the payments were made according to each person’s labor contribution; if I hadn’t done it this way, those who had suffered and worked hard would have felt resentful.
However, they were still grateful to me because I lent them horses for their new residence in Sidimi Bukchon and built defensive walls surrounding the village using cement and bricks I had purchased from India.
The Sidimi Joseon people who received the 7,000 Rubles were clearly at a loss, as it was a massive sum of money they had never laid eyes on in their entire lives.
Because the 7,000 Rubles were distributed according to the amount of labor each person contributed to the hay farming, households earned anywhere from 700 to 1,000 Rubles.
This was a fortune they had never even dreamed of touching.
Compared to the income they earned before we arrived in Sidimi, it was a forty to fifty-fold increase.
Their worries about making a living had completely vanished, and they were now being called wealthy.
Russia was one of the poorer countries in Europe, and the average annual income of a Russian peasant was only about 20 to 40 Rubles.
Possessing 1,000 Rubles in cash would earn someone the title of a wealthy man even in Russia, yet these people had earned that much in a single year’s income. Something truly dreamlike had become a reality.
The Joseon people who had newly immigrated and assisted with the hay harvest later were also wide-eyed at wages that were much more generous than expected.
Of course, it went without saying for the Joseon people who had come with me and earned the largest sums.
If you added the money earned from trade last time, they had all become rich men with nearly 10,000 Rubles.
At this level, they were among the top upper-class wealthy in Russia.
Naturally, a grand feast was held where several cows were slaughtered, and everyone, without exception, was filled with dreams of building new houses and furnishing their homes.
While the Joseon people were earning money like this, the trio of Russians—excluding the Joseon people—had been focusing their efforts on building Yankovsky’s ranch.
Originally, building a ranch in a place like this required the most effort for fencing.
Fortunately, since Barbed Wire had already been invented in the United States, we purchased Barbed Wire from Kunst and Albers and used it to build fences, creating a basic ranch.
During that time, the number of Deer increased to nearly ten.
We even obtained deer antlers for the first time in winter, but these were not medicinal velvet antlers; they were dried antlers that had fallen off naturally in the winter, so they weren’t worth much money.
Velvet antlers are mainly harvested between May and July, so we had to wait for 1878 to arrive.
Mikhail Yankovsky spent his time making tools to cut the velvet antlers.
Additionally, we were able to make a bit of money by purchasing cattle from the Chinese in Manchuria, bringing them to the Sijimi Ranch to fatten them up, and then selling them to the Russian Army.
Perhaps because the cattle in this region are raised on grass, their size is somewhat small.
Smaller ones weigh only about 150kg, and even the larger ones barely exceed 200kg.
After buying partially grown calves from the cattle markets in Manchuria and bringing them to Sidimi to feed them plenty of hay and oats, they would gain weight and typically exceed 300kg.
After raising them for about half a year and delivering them to the Russian Army or selling them in Vladivostok, the profit was quite sweet.
The reason this was difficult for others was that this region was such a wild land; besides the Honghuzi Ma-jeok, there were too many predators like tigers, bears, and Wolf Packs, making it difficult to transport cattle.
The Honghuzi were originally farmers, so during the season when cattle were purchased, they were too busy with their own farming to act as Ma-jeok.
Even if they did, they only formed groups of three or four at most.
The Honghuzi were essentially groups that gathered after the harvest ended to pull off a “big score” rather than sitting idle.
Small-scale Honghuzi and wild beasts were no problem as long as Mikhail Yankovsky was there.
Any predator that dared to challenge Yankovsky, an elite hunter, would be killed instantly.
The Honghuzi also wouldn’t dare attack because so many of them had been killed by Yankovsky last winter that they were terrified.
In addition, the number of horses and beef cattle brought from Europe increased.
We ordered a large number of horses, beef cattle, and even dairy cows from Kunst and Albers.
Kunst and Albers chartered an entire ship to bring over 200 of these horses and cows.
I had ordered about 150, but considering the individuals that might die during transit, 200 were purchased; luckily, fewer than 10 died.
The cost, including the price of the cattle and horses, exceeded 30,000 Rubles, but we saw a great profit from it as well.
The Yankovsky ranch grew significantly in scale, so we had to build large hay warehouses and stables.
This didn’t mean all 200 animals would be raised in stables; except for a few, most of them would graze even in winter.
If provided with a place to escape the snow and an appropriate supply of hay bales, they could survive the winter on their own.
Once the hay was fully harvested, the fields were plowed again to plant wheat.
There is winter wheat, which is planted in autumn and harvested in early summer the following year, and spring wheat, which is planted in spring and harvested in autumn.
Since we had an obligation to deliver hay to the Russian Army every year, we couldn’t plant spring wheat and had to plant winter wheat.
To sow wheat on 500 Dessiatines of land using traditional Russian farming methods, 130 to 150kg of seeds must be sown per Dessiatine.
Even with that much seed, the harvested amount is only about 800kg.
However, we had marvelous agricultural machinery called seeders and the Saltpeter I bought from India.
I had heard that applying too much fertilizer could ruin a crop, so I planned to test it by applying Saltpeter (potassium nitrate) fertilizer in small amounts.
This time, I applied only about 50kg per Dessiatine.
After harrowing and rolling the land, I used a fertilizer spreader to apply the Saltpeter and then a seeder to plant the seeds.
Thanks to the seeder, 100kg of seeds per Dessiatine was sufficient.
This alone saved 50kg of seeds per Dessiatine.
Since Primorsky Krai is a region where wheat prices are high, this saved about 3 Rubles per Dessiatine, totaling 1,500 Rubles for the 500 Dessiatines.
There were several types of seeders—2-row, 4-row, and 6-row—and naturally, I bought the 6-row seeders.
With a 6-row seeder pulled by two horses, it was possible to sow about 10 Dessiatines a day.
We finished the sowing in just five days using ten seeders.
Sowing with a seeder has several advantages.
First, it saves seeds compared to hand-sowing, which results in significant profit.
Second, because it sows at a uniform depth, the germination rate is high.
There is also less worry about birds or other animals eating the seeds.
Furthermore, sowing at uniform intervals allows for better airflow, which in itself increases the yield.
When the spring of 1878 arrived, the wheat planted the previous autumn began to grow lushly.
People said it would be ready for harvest by mid-June.
After harvesting the wheat, hay should naturally be planted.
I felt it was time to try rice farming.
So, after the 1877 autumn harvest, I stopped by Akita, Japan, with Fridolf Gek and bought rice.
Since that area is quite cold, I thought the rice there might be relatively resistant to the cold.
The only way to plant rice in this region is through transplanting seedlings.
With general sowing methods, the rice would likely freeze to death before it could even ripen.
However, there is no agricultural machinery for transplanting.
If I wanted to make one, I roughly knew the principles and it wasn’t a complex object, so I thought it wouldn’t be impossible.
But that’s something possible in a place like the United States where the technological foundation is established; here, it was impossible.
So, I made a Yangma. A Yangma is a tool used for transplanting rice in southern China.
It is a simple device consisting of a seat mounted on a flat sled that can slide over a flooded rice paddy.
Despite being a simple tool, it makes transplanting seedlings incredibly comfortable and much faster.
Since you sit on a chair to transplant, there is no need to bend your back, resulting in far less fatigue.
By lightly pushing the chair with your feet, movement becomes much quicker.
Why wasn’t such a convenient tool used in Korea or Japan?
I don’t know.
Perhaps by the time knowledge of the Yangma reached Korea or Japan, mechanization had already occurred.
Regardless, the wheat harvest in June was phenomenal.
While the production per Dessiatine for an average Russian farm was around 800kg, ours was 1.6 tons per Dessiatine—double the average.
We harvested approximately 800 tons of wheat from 500 Dessiatines of land.
Compared to the 21st century, where 7 to 8 tons are harvested per hectare, it might seem laughable, but in this era, it was by no means a small yield.
Considering that wheat prices in this Primorsky Krai region are around 60 Rubles per ton, we would earn about 48,000 Rubles if we sold it at this price, though frankly, I wasn’t expecting much.
Why is wheat cheaper than hay?
It’s not that wheat is cheap; it’s that the hay here is exorbitantly expensive.
The reason wheat in this region is expensive is that the farmers don’t know how to grow it properly.
Many of the Chinese immigrants were originally from this area, but their agricultural skills were honestly lower than those of the Joseon people, and the Joseon immigrants were also unskilled at wheat farming.
The small amount of grain produced beyond their own food requirements was not enough to meet the consumption needs of the Primorsky Krai region.
Therefore, grain had to be brought in from the outside, which naturally made the prices high.
In the midst of this, we produced 800 tons of wheat, but our Joseon people don’t usually eat much wheat.
Naturally, I thought of military supply, and I met the General (yes, the man who was originally a Colonel) again.
“Congratulations on becoming a General.”
“Thank you very much for the gift you sent. However, I might be promoted and sent to Europe, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to repay your kindness.”
“Oh, congratulations on going to Europe. A gift is just a gift; there’s no need to talk of repayment. Please just think of it as a token of my gratitude for your kindness thus far.”
“I can’t simply let it go. I’m thinking of repaying you by purchasing the wheat you brought this time.”
“Oh, thank you so much. To be honest, I was worried about where to sell the wheat.”
“We are in a position where we have to buy wheat from abroad, so if there is wheat produced in Primorsky Krai, it’s only right that we buy it here. However, it’s difficult to pay more than 50 Rubles per ton. This is truly the highest price I can offer. In exchange, I will buy the entire 800 tons you suggested.”
“Ah, that is more than enough. I didn’t expect more than that. This is truly thanks to you, General—I mean, General.”
“I am also grateful to you because you solved the hay problem and are now significantly solving the food problem. And if the food problem is resolved like this, we might increase the number of troops in this area.”
“That is welcome news. If the number of soldiers increases, the economy of this region will also improve.”
“Perhaps the demand to open Joseon’s ports, which you mentioned, might come sooner.”
“Have you heard something?”
“Since being promoted to General, I receive much more information than I did as a Colonel. The reason we haven’t been able to exercise proper power in the Far East is partly because the United Kingdom is interfering, but also because the military strength in this region is too low. We couldn’t increase the army before because logistics and supplies were difficult. Since you have resolved a significant portion of the military supply issues, increasing the army has become easier.”
This was something I truly hadn’t considered.
Who would have thought that my success in developing Primorsky Krai would increase Russia’s control over the region, and thus increase Russia’s military power and influence?
Still, I am someone who wants the opening of Joseon to happen faster, even if it is by Russia.
It will be much better for Joseon than dealing with Japan alone.
The unequal treaty signed with Japan is of much worse quality than the unequal treaties European nations push onto Asian countries.
Looking at tariffs alone, the treaty with Japan has no provisions regarding tariffs, so the Joseon government isn’t collecting any tariff revenue.
Japan is using every means possible to gain maximum profit while taking advantage of Joseon’s ignorance of external affairs.
Therefore, it would be much better if Russia intervened here instead.