In March of that year, the third annual wheat harvest began on Liberty Island.

Fifteen-year-old Achill was in great pain------- cutting wheat was the last thing he wanted to do in his life.

There are nearly 10,000 acres of wheat, 5,000 acres of barley, and incalculable fields of corn and potatoes and sweet potatoes on the main island of Liberty Island.

When fifteen-year-old Achill came here three years ago, he found that those Orientals were so fond of farming that they were expanding their fields every year!

He will never forget the first day of the wheat harvest on Liberty Island!

At that time, because of his young age, he only arranged to harvest a small field of wheat, but that had already scared him, and he really couldn't forget it for the rest of his life!

At first, the Orientals commanded English laborers like Achill, and the terrifying blacks, and some Berbers who had almost completely reclaimed the land.

It seems that there are wheat fields everywhere!

The highest is almost at the top of the mountain, and the farthest is closer than an hour.

The widest road to the wheat field can pass through a four-wheeled carriage, and the narrowest two people are staggered in opposite directions.

After the wheat is ripe, it will not wait for anyone, I heard that the ear of wheat will explode by itself in a few days, and most of the hard work of half a year will be in vain!

At that time, those Orientals said that this was a war, and that they were going to mobilize all the forces they could, and that everyone was going to be involved in cutting wheat!

I heard that even the Governor is here------

On the afternoon of the first day, dozens of Orientals were grinding their Oriental-style short sickles back and forth on the whetstones in the courtyard.

The sound of sharpening the knives was ------- sharpening, and they scraped the edge of the sickle with their thumbs to feel the sharpness.

Old Baum once mentioned that you could also use an English-style scythe, which didn't have to bend over.

There was an Oriental man who laughed and said that he had seen that kind of scythe, but it was called samarium sickle in the East, and it was only used in sparse wheat fields, and he had to pick up all over the ground after cutting, not to mention the extra labor, and he would lose some wheat grains.

The Oriental man pointed to the wheat field and proudly said, "You white people don't grow wheat at all!" ”

Old Baum was speechless, yes, the wheat grown by the Orientals was short and strong, and it produced many grains of wheat, and the wheat was very dense between them------ old Baum once said that he had lived to be forty years old, and he had never seen wheat of such high yield, and that the same field could harvest four times as much wheat as England!

Old Baum also said that he did not understand why the Orientals had them sprinkle a stone powder on the fields from time to time, or how the water in the ground could flow out of the pipe with a few wrenches.

The rumbling iron fellow, with black smoke and white smoke, could pump up the water from the little river and carry it through the canal to the farther fields.

At that time, no one knew the corn and the potatoes-------

Well, I don't know too much, and I can only obey their commands when I am hired.

After sharpening their sickles, they also used long-spouted oil pots to refuel the axles of a dozen four-wheeled carriages------

The horses bought from the Kingdom of England were given preferential treatment, and in order to keep them fed and ready to pull the cart the morrow, the Orientals arranged for men to get up two or three times in the evening to add fodder and bean cakes.

The people in the cafeteria are also starting to get busy------- it's little Achille's favorite place, always serving unexpected food that will keep you full!

Little Achill had the most satisfying meal in his life, and it was there that he ate.

Those in white coats steamed hundreds of baskets of sugar horns, an oriental food, triangular steamed buns filled with brown sugar and sometimes raisins added to them!

At the same time, I also set up an oil pan and fried a lot of oil cakes------ and the fragrance should be able to waft across the sea.

They also mixed all kinds of shredded pickles and took out a lot of salted fish.

At about five o'clock the next morning, little Achill was picked up from bed by Old Baum.

From time to time, he rubbed his eyes and walked into the courtyard.

At that time, old Baum picked him up at once, threw him into the carriage, and caused many people to laugh.

It's not dawn yet, what's so ridiculous?!

It seems that everyone is out of the way-------

When he arrived at the wheat field, Old Baum carved out a small patch of wheat for him and ordered him to rest after he had finished cutting.

The morning dew was very strong, the wheat stalks were moist and tough, and little Achill had little strength and could not cut them.

He was so angry that he threw his sickle and pulled the wheat stalks uprooted.

Old Baum spotted him in the distance, shouted at him, and if he did it again, he came and beat him. He had to pick up the sickle, hold five or six at a time, and cut it with all his might.

All the people in the wheat field have their waists hunched, like the dried shrimp that the Orientals use to make soups.

Their heads were thrust down, and little Achill looked up quietly, only their backs could be seen.

When they cut a large handful, they put it together with their sickles, and put it together with what they had cut before------ a row of wheat, and they could not cut their heads, and they would not lift their heads.

When the line was finished, the leading Oriental turned back to bundle the wheat.

Only when he squatted down, grabbed the two ends of the wheat stalks, pulled them together, and then supplemented by the strength of his knees to compact the loose wheat stalks.

Finally, the two hands that hold the wheat straw are staggered again, twisted and pressed, and it is tied, and it will not be shaken off.

This technique alone was learned by little Achill for a long time, but he could not figure it out, and he imitated the bundle of loose wheat as soon as his hand loosened, and then it collapsed again.

When the sun came out, they had both cut back and forth.

And little Archill only put down a large piece of the mat.

Even so, Mai Mang had red dots on both of his arms and the back of his hand.

He was sweating profusely on his head and face, and he raised his arm to wipe it, and he was stung by the salt in the sweat, and it hurt hotly.

I don't know how long I worked, but the Oriental finally spoke to rest for a while.

The cute white-clothed men in the cafeteria came over with baskets of sugar horns, and little Achill couldn't wait to grab one, whether his hands were dirty or not, and he tore them open and ate them.

The people in the cafeteria also used a dozen large white tin kettles to boil many kettles of water, which are still warm.

Everyone took turns drinking with a big white tin spoon------- and the water was sweet and a little salty, and it was delicious.

The Oriental man smoked two cigarettes in quick succession, and then began to work again.

At that time, he seemed to have said a truth, saying that the more you rest, the more tired you become, and the longer you sit, the more you can't get up.

Whether this truth is correct, little Achill is deeply skeptical, but he does not dare to refute it.

The sun slowly became scorching, and the exposed part of the neck was red. Beads of sweat poured out of his hair, and his face was covered with water.

Little Archier's eyes were already a little open, and he began to wipe with both sleeves, and then the sleeves were drenched, so he had to lift up his shirt and wipe it.

The clothes on the back were sucked by sweat and clung to the skin, making it uncomfortable.

But he could see that some of the young men could not hold it anymore, and when they cut a wheat, they straightened up and looked around.

The Oriental man scolded him a few times, and for no avail, he impatiently said to the young men, go, go, go! If you don't want to cut, take little Archier to load the cart and pull the wheat.

Little Achill was expecting such an order, and he immediately threw down his scythe.

I thought to myself, "It's better to do anything than to cut wheat."

Little Achill began to load the car with a few people, and the ears of wheat rushed inward, and the wheat stalks were facing outward, stacked layer by layer.

Sometimes he needs to climb up and step on them one by one until he looks like a hill.

Finally, take a long wooden stick and place it on the top layer, and then use a rope to hold the ends of the stick.

At this time, everyone worked together with their hands and feet, shouting and pulling down.

It wasn't until a cart of wheat was pressed like a boxy mung bean cake that he stopped.

When he first arrived, there was a lovely person in the cafeteria who secretly handed him a delicious ------ he would never forget for the rest of his life.

The man touched his yellow hair as he ate beautifully, and sighed as he could not understand what was said.

Why did he sigh then? He's still inexplicable.

PS: Thank you for the book friends who don't make it and don't survive, and Brother Xin for your reward.