Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

Chapter 2155 - 1562: How Is the Nomadic Life Forged? (Part 3)

Ah Bo counted on his fingers and calculated the survival threshold of the Herdsmen, which is also the per capita livestock scale that a tribe must maintain. On the vast grassland, herds of milk-producing sheep and cattle are almost the only means of production and the primary food source for the tribe. They are akin to moving "fields," but with the layer of sheep grazing and the conversion to milk, the output is inevitably one magnitude lesser than grain directly grown from fields!"Exactly! That’s right, twenty sheep’s milk production can sustain one strong man! And to raise one sheep, you need more than 8 acres of meadow. But to ensure good milk production from sheep, having 10 acres of grassland is best!"

In this era, there were no cheap agricultural feed supplements from later generations, no management of quality pasture planting, nor any breeding of high-quality sheep breeds. Under natural grazing conditions, raising one sheep in the meadow requires 8 acres of grassland. Considering the competition from other species on the grassland, purely grazing sheep requires 10 acres of land to effectively produce milk.

Due to the lack of fodder silage technology, grass supplies become very scarce in winter, so grazing areas need to be expanded. At this time, each tribe either fights each other to decrease population for winter fodder or actively reduces the size of their herd, passively decreasing population. Often, both scenarios coexist, resulting in both dead livestock and dead people!

"Twenty sheep for one strong man? One sheep needs 10 acres of land? Doesn’t that mean you need a full 200 acres of grassland to sustain one person? For a tribe of four hundred people, wouldn’t that require 80,000 acres of grassland?..."

"Ah? Nobles, only the strong men who can ride horses and shoot arrows count as a ’strong man’ needing twenty sheep for sustenance. Other elderly women and children are usually considered ’half,’ half a person. They can survive on about ten sheep. Survival is enough; eating their fill is unnecessary. It’s normal for some to starve to death in winter and doesn’t affect the tribe’s strength. As for the size of the pasture, I can’t do math, but your calculated result must be correct! Look at our River-side Tribe, with more than four hundred people, only barely living off the pasture across ten miles. And those bad Forest Tribe people keep fighting us for the pasture... they truly deserve to be killed!"

As Ah Bo spoke, he directed the conversation back to the "bad" Forest Tribe. Zuwaro secretly noted this tribe’s name, made some mental calculations, and frowned.

"Ah Bo! Do the River-side Tribe’s cattle and sheep evenly spread allow one person twenty sheep?"

"Nobles... no, definitely not! It’s only been two years since the tribe migrated east and we’ve already had one round of livestock conscription. Now, the Nobles are bringing Armor... a lot of people will starve this winter. At least thirty? Ah, Nobles, I dare not complain to you... people starving is common, it’s no big deal. It’s the most common thing on the grassland! Every year in winter, some tribal elders over the age of thirty or forty get driven out of the camp to die naturally. There are even deliberately starved Pastoral Slaves to actively save winter rations."

"Indeed! Winter foods are always insufficient, fuel is insufficient, and fodder is insufficient. People die of hunger and cold; sheep also die of hunger and cold... And once faced with a severe white disaster, it becomes disastrous! Half the sheep freezing to death means half the population sustaining capabilities gone, and half the people must die for survival continuation!"

Speaking of the horror of the "white disaster," even the strong Ah Bo could not help but shiver, showing genuine fear.

"The tribe never has any stored food. Even if there’s hard-earned food stored, it must be consumed first by Chieftain and Warriors... But when white disaster hits, everyone knows it is the terrifying time when tribes slaughter each other chaotically! Because with frozen sheep herds, it takes at least two years just to restore the population to its original numbers. But most tribes can’t afford storing food for two years! Even those with stored food are targeted by other tribes!"

"Without sheep, enough milk, or food, the tribe cannot survive! In such times, what to do? Only kill! Kill! Each tribe fights together, devours smaller tribes, robs their livestock, and turns them into food. If small tribes aren’t enough to eat, they eat each other! If they can’t find other tribes or can’t win, they consume themselves, eating Pastoral Slave elders, transforming into two-legged sheep... Two-legged sheep! Ah... don’t eat me... don’t eat mama..."

While speaking, the strong Ah Bo trembled, seemingly recalling some horrific past. After a while, he took a deep breath, gratefully looked at the patient Nobles, and forced a smile.

"Tenggeri protect us! Certainly, there’s only one chance out of facing such terrifying white disaster!"

"One chance out of it? What is that?"

"Ah? Nobles... this opportunity is provided by the Southern Great Tribes of your noble birth, didn’t you think of it?"

"? The opportunity from the Great Tribe of the three guards? You mean... the South? Farming?"

"Yes! Yes! It’s all thanks to the generosity and kindness of Lord Thousand Households!"

Ah Bo kept nodding, looking toward the southern Sun, his face lifting into an innocent yet fierce smile. Like a beast, genuinely yearning from within.

"Tenggeri! If a white disaster comes, we can only kneel and beg... beg the Great Khan to muster the troops! Once the Great Khan’s Messenger is sent to all tribes, every tribe will gather like hungry wolf packs. At that time, usual tribal conflicts will vanish. Everyone unified in the same desire for survival, the only chance out of it!"

"That is southward, to reap the grain!!..."

"Cross the long, long Great Wall to Han people’s rich, rich territory, search for food! Food!!... Regardless of how many people die or what is eaten, just to stay alive!!..."

At that moment, the slave Ah Bo, glowing with a mix of fear and anticipation in his eyes, appeared like a humble yet cruel grassland wolf. Witnessing this survival beastliness, Zuwaro was startled to the core. He seemingly saw countless nomadic cavalry, eyes shining with hungry green light, rushing toward the endless Great Wall in the south like a beast swarm descending!