Iron Powder and Spellcasters Chapter 143

   Chapter 143 Homecoming

The core content of the "Treaty of Torde" is actually only one sentence: "All lands acquired by the army outside the West belong to the republic, and the property rights belong to the army".

  This treaty is the cornerstone of the political ecology of the newly reclaimed province, and it is also the source of strength for the country of galloping horses to continue to expand westward.

   Therefore, anyone who wants to buy land in the newly reclaimed province must first go to the army garrison in the county capital to buy "mu".

  After paying off the land payment, go to the town under the county with the half land deed provided by the resident village, and under the supervision and notarization of the mayor and the resident town official, delineate the unsold land according to the number of acres.

  After the enclosure is completed, the buyer can farm the land, and the remaining half of the land deed will be filled by the mayor and the resident officer, and returned to the county station.

  The land deed is confirmed, signed, painted and stamped at the county garrison office, and then sent upwards to the garrison army headquarters in the provincial capital.

  The headquarters of the legion will copy, lacquer, and archive the land deed and return it to the original way, through the county station and town office, and finally return it to the purchaser.

   Since then, the complete title deed is in quadruplicate. The original copy is in the hands of the purchaser, and the Corps headquarters, the county garrison office, and the town office each keep a copy. Any damage or loss of any link will not affect the certification of land ownership.

   It's just that this process is rigorous but cumbersome, and the land deeds come and go from half a year to a year.

   However, in the legal sense, there is no need to wait for the return of the complete title deed. The land purchaser already owns and can dispose of the land at the moment when the land is demarcated.

   And the way the Palatine Council judged the price of land is also simple and crude, considering only two factors: Is the terrain hilly or flat? Is there a water source within half a kilometer?

  The unit price of land near horizontal is high, and the unit price of hills far away from water is low.

  In the case of forests, the value of the wood and taxes need to be added.

  Roads, rivers, lakes and all water bodies are the property of the Army and are not for sale.

   And the land is divided into two parts: "field surface" and "field bottom". The land buyer only owns the surface of the field, and the bottom of the field is also not for sale.

  By stratifying the property rights of the land, the purchaser can only cultivate it, and all the minerals hidden under the surface are still owned by the army.

   There are various other qualifications, to name a few, blocking any possibility of encroaching on the interests of the Army.

   After Gillard's careful explanation, Winters understood why Mr. Bentyn wanted to return to Wolf Town before the others.

   The simple and crude land pricing model of the new reclaimed land government, and the sales rule that whoever encloses it first, is equivalent to shouting "If you want to buy quickly, first come first served".

  Quality land is limited, but the number of people who buy land is unlimited. Every year, the county station is selling land, and the good land will only become less and less.

   This year alone, seven manors have purchased more "acres" in the garrison. Mr. Benting obviously set out early to enclose the land before others.

"It's like this." Girard spread his hands: "Now the land of each manor is close to each other, and the surrounding area is limited, especially Benting's house. I am afraid that Mr. Benting is also worried that others will occupy first, in that case His land is not a complete piece."

  Gillard and Winters rode side by side at the front of the team. Without the cargo on the car, the speed of the team was much faster than when it came.

   "Then there's no need to be like this. Can't you discuss it with the neighbors in advance? It seems that Mr. Bentin thinks other people are as stingy as him." Winters was quite critical of this.

Girard reluctantly said: "Mr. Benting also has difficulties. He has many sons. And who doesn't want to let their land be connected into a whole piece? Scattered fields are particularly inconvenient to cultivate. There are many such fragmented fields in Hedong and Hexi villages. The villagers have little money left and can only buy them in small pieces, and in the end, Tian Long alone doesn't know how much land is occupied.”

  Agricultural common sense belonged to Winters' blind spot of knowledge. The second lieutenant didn't understand what "Tian Long" was, so Gillard had to explain it to him again.

   "What about the Nanxin and Beixin villages?" After listening to Old Dussac's explanation, Winters was very curious about the Protestant villages with less arable land per capita.

  Gillard sighed and said: "Because the two villages have little land, they simply don't need Tianlong. They just took a few stones to demarcate the boundary, and there was no dispute."

   "If I want to buy land, should I turn around and go back to Revordan now?" Winters asked jokingly.

"Do you want to buy land? Okay!" Girard was surprised first, then surprised, he happily pulled the arm of the second lieutenant: "There is a piece of unoccupied land between my land and Dusa Village, but It's a complete piece of land, and it's close to the river. If you think it's small, I can sell you some more."

   Old Dussac's enthusiasm surprised Winters, he waved his hands again and again: "I'm just kidding, where do I get the money to buy the land."

   "It's okay, I can lend it to you."

Of course    Winters could not agree, he firmly declined, and Gillard no longer insisted upon seeing this.

   Seeing that old Dussack was quite disappointed, Winters tried to change the subject: "I feel that everyone is in a bad state, and they are not as vigilant as when they came."

  After spending three days in Gervoudan, the spirits of many coachmen, hired laborers and Dussac were very sluggish.

   Quite a few drivers were yawning and drowsy, leaning listlessly against the seat and brandishing their whips.

  Some Dussacs have not sobered up until now, completely losing the shrewdness and vigor they had when they came.

   Winters counted silently in his heart and found that the frequency of Dussac's patrols had dropped significantly. After walking for a morning, only two horses came to patrol the front.

"Cough! Farmers don't see many silver coins in a year, and they can't control their waistbands if they have money in their hands." Girard was very angry when he mentioned this: "That's why I didn't go back to Wolf Town and were not allowed to pay rewards and salaries. , I didn't expect someone to take what I said seriously!"

   Sergey, who had been dozing off on the saddle, suddenly became energized when he heard this: "Captain, you are wrong this time. They sent the money in the county seat on purpose! You are in a bad mood!"

   "What do you mean?" Winters demanded.

"How can the landlord let the tenant save money?" Sergey sneered, with a very disdainful expression: "If the tenant saves the money and buys the land, he will become a homesteader? Who will work for the landlord? The barbarians start the fight, and after the fight, there will be a lot of cheap land to buy, which tenant farmer will not mind? Do you think they can distribute the money without Gévoudan?”

  Gillard's face was solemn: "Don't think too bad of everyone."

"Captain, you are not the same as them. No matter how little Dussac's land is, it is still Dussac, and no matter how much land a peasant has, he is still a peasant. Can they compare with us?" Sergey scratched his gray forehead a few times. , said carelessly.

   The old man glanced at Winters and quickly added: "Second lieutenant, you are different from them. Your hand is also holding the handle of a knife, and their hands are all ploughing."

   Winters smiled, he would have been **** off sooner if he had bothered with this old Dussack.

  Gillard frowned and said, "I have to go and see what's going on behind me. Why haven't I seen a few Dussacs patrolling all morning."

   After he finished speaking, he moved his horse to the rear of the convoy.

   Winters was also feeling strange, he lightly clamped the horse's rib and pulled the reins: "I'll go take a look too."

   Riding all the way against the direction of the convoy, Mr. Mitchell almost exploded his lungs.

  Many of the Dussacks were not patrolling at all, but tethered their horses to the back of the cart, and slept in the trunk of the cart by themselves.

  Girard picked up a big stick with a thick forearm and hit the lazy Dussack right in the face.

   Less than two months after arriving in Wolftown, Winters had already dealt with several fights involving the Dusa. As for Dussac beating his wife and son on weekdays, it is even more commonplace.

  The use of violence is not unusual for Dussack, but it was the first time he saw Gillard beat someone, and he beat him so hard.

  Dussac, who was full of alcohol, often only waited until the stick fell on him before screaming and sobering up.

   They were amazed, then angry, and then mortified when they found out that it was Gerard Pleninovich Mitchell who had hit.

  The beaten Dussack would quickly get up and beat him without a word.

  Gillard just searched and fought all the way, and the second lieutenant couldn't intervene at all.

  When he found that Pierre was also sleeping in the trunk of the car, old Mr. Mitchell angrily picked up the stick and hit Mr. Mitchell's head.

   was so frightened that Winters rushed up and grabbed the stick, which would be fatal if it hit the head.

   But the furious Girard was terrifying. Winters couldn't control him for a while, Girard let go of the stick and threw his fist at Pierre.

   Winters could see clearly that the punch was firm, merciless, and smashed in Pierre's face without the slightest effort of being his own son.

  Mr. Mitchell woke up suddenly, blood spurted out of his nose, he had never seen his father like this.

  Pierre was startled and scared: "Dad, what are you doing?"

"[Dussa's swear words]!" Old Dussac kept scolding, but he didn't listen, grabbed his son's collar and slapped his face: "You begged me to follow the car! You just followed the car like that. Do you still have any backbone? Huh?!"

   "My mother never hit me!" Little Dussack cried.

  Winters and other Dussacs quickly separated the two, and the three Dussacs barely grabbed the furious Girard, and kicked Girard without their fists reaching them.

  Shock, grievance, and fear, these emotions appeared on Pierre's face at the same time, and tears and blood flowed down together.

  Pierre covered his nose and cried, "Why beat me? I'm going to tell my mother!"

   "I beat you to death! You are worthless!" Girard, who was forcibly carried away, was even more angry.

  After this turmoil, Gillard called all the Dussacs who came to follow the car together for a meeting.

"Are you following a car for the first time?" Old Dussac's anger has not been extinguished: "Don't you understand the rules? Is it more dangerous to go home than when you came? What was on the car when we came, what is on the car now It's money! Don't you understand?"

  The usually arrogant Dussacks bowed their heads, and no one dared to look at Captain Mitchell.

   "From now on, cheer me up." Girard Mitchell said fiercely: "Whoever dares to be lazy and slippery again, I will peel him off!"

  When resting at night, the four-wheeled carts formed a circular fortress in a flat open space.

   Fires were lit inside the car barrier, and the driver and the Dussacks sat around the fire to boil water, hot food, and gossip.

   The densely packed insects are flying on the meadow, and the hands are sticky with any slap, which makes the scalp numb.

  Someone couldn't stand the mosquitoes and threw a few **** of wet horse manure into the fire. The blue-blue smoke filled the car barrier, and the annoying bugs disappeared all at once.

   It's just that the smoke also obstructed the line of sight, so that the people in the car barrier could not see each other dimly.

  Winters sat around a warm flame with Sergey, Vashka, and Pierre, old Sergey straightening the bridge of Pierre's nose.

"Uncle, look, he beat him too hard. If Brother Winters hadn't stopped me, I would have been beaten to death." Pierre was still grumpy about what happened during the day and complained: "I still It's bleeding from the nose!"

   Sergey held Pierre's head with one hand and the bridge of Pierre's nose with the other, and said disapprovingly, "Come on, don't complain about your father. Be patient and don't move."

  Pierre nodded slightly.

   "I count one, two, three, and I'll start the whole thing." The old Sergey smacked his lips, and when he only read "one", he squeezed Pierre's nose bridge in his hand.

   Pierre screamed and fell to the back, tears streaming down his face.

   It took him a while to recover and complained, "I only counted to one!"

   "Isn't it good?" Old Sergey checked it again and clapped his hands: "Okay, it's not broken. Don't touch it for half a month, it's still a handsome guy."

   After receiving the doctor's order, Sergey yawned and sat by the fire, poured some hot soup from the iron pot on the fire, and sipped it.

  Pierre tentatively touched his nose a few times and said happily: "It really doesn't hurt before."

   "Mr. Morozov, you are very capable." Winters witnessed the whole process and said to old Dussack with rare admiration.

   Sergey twisted his silver-gray pigtails and said with a smile: "It's nothing, the veterans are all in town."

  The jumping flame reflected everyone's mood.

Pierre on the side of    is still indignant: "Look, I will tell my mother when I go back, my mother will definitely be on my side!"

"I said, you kid will save your father some snacks." Old Dussac said to young Dussac with some displeasure: "Your father beat him all the way, and if he stops at you, he will be able to convince the crowd. Do you? You ask the lieutenant if this is true."

   "That's right." Winters nodded.

Sergey said bitterly: "And think about it again, who are you? You are the son of Mayor Mitchell. What you do, others will learn from it. You sleep lazy in the car, other Dusa Can Ke feel at ease when he sees it? Can he not learn? I have never seen such a thing in the car with your father so many times. You dare to be lazy and slippery when you come to Dussac. Don't you understand what's going on? You Daddy is angry about this."

Winters next to    nodded in approval.

  But Pierre was speechless, but he still insisted: "But he also beat too hard."

   "It was really hard to beat." Wasika, who had not spoken, said with some schadenfreude.

  Washka slept in the cart after Pierre, so he was lucky not to eat sticks.

   Sergey's face sank, and he raised his hand and poured the hot soup in the bowl at his son: "You son of a bitch, you have the guts to say that? I didn't beat you, so you're out of luck."

  Washika was scalded by the hot soup and yelled back, "I'm a son of a bitch, then you're a dog!"

  Old Sergey was so angry that he grabbed a piece of firewood and was about to start.

   Winters hurriedly stopped the old Dussack: "Mr. Morozov, you can't be angry with children."

   Sergey sat cross-legged by the fire angrily, not in the mood to eat dinner.

   "It was the first time I saw Mr. Mitchell get angry, and I was startled." Winters racked his brains trying to adjust the atmosphere: "Has Mr. Mitchell been so angry before?"

Old Dussack snorted, glared at Vashka and said: "It's not surprising, the captain had this temper when he was young, and when he got angry, he could be so angry. , the temper has become completely different from the original."

   "Isn't Mrs. Mitchell from Dusa?" Winters asked knowingly, and he had always been curious about the mysterious Mrs. Mitchell.

   "No." Sergey stood up on his hands and spat at the fire: "I'm going to pee."

   Before leaving, Old Dussack couldn't help kicking his son.

   By a fire near the east of the car base, Gillard sat alone, smoking a smouldering smoke.

   "Captain, you have a spacious place here, one person occupies a fire." Sergey smiled and squeezed next to the old buddy, who had just returned from urinating outside the camp.

   "Is that kid okay?" Girard stared at the bonfire.

"What's the matter?" Old Sergey grabbed a piece of stall and wrapped it around him. The temperature difference between morning and night on the plateau was huge: "When we were young, we didn't fight much harder than they did? You smashed my two posterior molars with one punch. In the evening we went to fight with Dussak from the neighboring village."

  Gillard Mitchell sighed: "We're all getting old."

   "Didn't the little ones grow up too?" Sergey yawned.

"No, it's not the same, they're not the same as us." Old Dussac said sadly to another old Dussac: "Although this group of young people has a pair of Dussac's skins, they don't have Dussac's bones. ."

   Correction! Correction!

   Thanks to the book friends who passed the recommendation ticket before;

Thanks to the camera of the book friend, the kun, Ji Yuwu, the yellow rabbit of the flower gardener, the front of the moon night, I don't know what it is called, 54 months, an uncle of the ideal 30, book friend 20170827184656094, Jiang Xue Diao Weng, calm gray Guo, Soda Bird, Book Friends 120325172509365, and the recommendation tickets of the Social Justice Pharaoh, thank you all. Behart.

   Thank you book friend Soda Bird for her four donations. Although this classmate may not have seen it here, thank you, it is too honorable.

   Really not good enough to be rewarded, thank you.

   (end of this chapter)

Chapter end