Chapter 929 – On Dagou Mountain

Qian Shuixie waited until he saw the team's two military dogs carefully lowered into the small boat in special sling bags before saluting Li Ziping. He donned his steel helmet and climbed down the rope ladder. His personal orderly followed close behind—because he had a wife, Qian Shuixie hadn't dared to openly keep a female orderly. Instead, he had gone through normal procedures to select a quick-handed sixteen-year-old lad capable of washing clothes and cooking. The boy had originally been a runaway slave from Guangdong. As the saying goes, "no one is sharper than a palace eunuch"—in this era, those who had served as slaves generally lacked neither wits nor adaptability. Qian Shuixie found himself well served and took a liking to the boy, bestowing upon him the name Chandler.

Chandler was a naturalized citizen with indentured servant status; he had no right to choose his own name. Generally, names were assigned using original surname plus a purification camp designation. If the registers showed too many people with a certain surname, even that might be changed. But once one gained a transmigrator's favor and became an adopted child, apprentice, personal attendant, or orderly, one could receive a surname bestowed by the transmigrator. For naturalized citizens, this was a tremendous honor. The General Office recognized this practice and issued corresponding certificates of bestowed surname.

Though Chandler served as orderly, he was also a full member of the Special Reconnaissance Team with respectable training scores. Carrying Qian Shuixie's stuffed field pack, he climbed nimbly down the rope netting. Because the Special Reconnaissance Team trained at high intensity and maintained twenty-four-hour combat readiness, their food standards had always been generous. Recently, they had been adjusted to match the transmigrators' own rations, guaranteeing not only fish at every meal but also daily intake of the scarcest commodity: fats and oils. Physically, they were a cut above ordinary naturalized citizens.

"Is everyone here?"

"All present!" the NCO reported.

Qian Shuixie raised one hand high and brought it down three times in succession. "Move out!" he ordered.

The sailors on the rowboat immediately worked the oars, and the boat glided toward shore.

Two rowboats had been lowered from the Haitian. One carried the fifteen members of the landing survey team; the other bore marines equipped with a "Typewriter," serving as a fire point within the lagoon to provide direct covering fire if needed.

Li Ziping ordered the ship's cannons and machine guns to full alert, ready to open fire in support of the landing detachment at the first sign of enemy attack.

They landed near the mouth of a relatively large freshwater river flowing into the bay. Although the Haitian had no plans to establish a permanent camp here this time, the survey and reconnaissance teams planned to conduct two or three days of activity in the area, necessitating a temporary camp near fresh water.

The coast was exceptionally desolate. The beach lay empty; no villages or houses were visible along the shore. But faint traces on the sand indicated that people frequented the seaside and lagoon. Clearly, the Pingpu natives dwelt not far from the water. The reason they avoided living directly on the coast was to prevent pirate attacks.

The marines began setting up a crude camp at the river mouth while Qian Shuixie led his team inland along the river. His primary objective was to summit Dagou Mountain and observe the surrounding terrain from a high vantage point, enabling Liu Zheng's survey team to draft a rough topographic map of the Dagou Harbor area. This place would eventually become a new base for the Transmigration Group. Wu Nanhai's Agricultural Committee had long coveted the Tainan Plain, which could be developed on a grand scale.

Heading inland, they found little beyond scattered patches of woods—everywhere else was deep grass and dense brush. With summer approaching, vegetation had reached peak density. The path was difficult, and mosquitoes and insects swarmed in clouds. Simply walking stirred up swarms of every variety. Liu Zheng, a seasoned trekker, knew well the dangers of insects in such terrain, and Taiwan was notorious for malaria. Thus, all members of the landing survey team had wrapped themselves tight—high-top canvas boots, wide-brimmed hats with mosquito netting.

Dressed in such gear, moving was naturally cumbersome. Combined with the deep grass and dense forest, though they landed at noon, the survey team didn't summit Dagou Mountain until after four in the afternoon.

Despite the desolation, they still observed many signs of human activity—half-discernible paths through the grass, traces of once-cultivated fields. At the foot of Dagou Mountain, they discovered the remains of a native settlement, completely collapsed and reclaimed by earth. Clearly, people had lived here in significant numbers. Based on the settlement's size and field traces, Liu Zheng estimated at least four or five hundred natives had once inhabited the area.

Where had they gone? The prevailing theory held that they had been attacked and scattered by the pirate Lin Daoqian during the Jiajing reign, the whole tribe migrating inland to "Ahou Forest." But data from the Foreign Intelligence Bureau and Ren Fu's account both indicated these natives should still dwell not far from the coast rather than deep inland. Immigrants landing at Kaohsiung were bound to conflict with the local Pingpu tribes.

Dagou Mountain rose over three hundred meters. With high-powered binoculars, that altitude provided visibility over more than ten square kilometers. Before them spread the vast Kaohsiung Plain. Though the inland plain was largely desolate grass and scrub, crude villages and patches of reclaimed paddy could be glimpsed here and there.

"There are still quite a few natives here." Liu Zheng frowned. "Best to clear them out in one go—otherwise, future conflicts will be troublesome..."

Qian Shuixie said nothing. Survey team members were marking discovered settlements one by one on the map. Judging by their number and size, the legendary Takau—Dajarriang—tribal group numbered at least two thousand people. Dutch records indicated they could field four or five hundred armed warriors at a time.

In terms of tribal distribution in Taiwan at the period, the Takau were a major group, rivaling the Sinkan tribe of Tainan. Historically, the two had clashed constantly until the Dutch intervened and expelled the Takau from the Kaohsiung Plain.

"To drive the natives out of here, we'll need at least an infantry company plus militia," Qian Shuixie estimated.

According to historical records, the Christmas Campaign launched by the Dutch in 1635—which defeated the Takau and forced their submission and relocation inland—had involved five hundred men plus five or six hundred Sinkan allies. Primitive tribes generally mobilized all able-bodied men as warriors, so it could be inferred the tribe had at least a thousand fighting men. Otherwise, the Dutch would not have assembled such a large force. The expedition against the Takau was one of the few major military operations the Dutch ever conducted in Taiwan.

"The advance party should land in winter, after the typhoon season ends," Liu Zheng said.

Summer was approaching fast. Summer meant not only rampant mosquitoes but also frequent typhoons; ship navigation and the landing of personnel and materials would be severely restricted. If things went wrong, epidemics could break out. By the end of 1631, the massive numbers of immigrants from Zhejiang and Shandong wouldn't yet be available, but launching a full-scale landing and construction effort in Kaohsiung at that time would still be timely.

"Also, winter vegetation withers—visibility will be better. Look at this density." Liu Zheng gestured at the hillside. "Those tribesmen could easily hide hundreds of people in there. You wouldn't spot them until they were right on top of you."

Qian Shuixie nodded. Subtropical Taiwan certainly wouldn't be cold in winter, but this was the Little Ice Age; temperatures in southern Taiwan were likely several degrees lower than in the twenty-first century. Even in Hainan at lower latitudes, vegetation showed obvious signs of withering in winter. The Dutch choice to launch their expedition at Christmas had clearly accounted for this.

As it was growing late, Qian Shuixie decided to camp on the mountain and wait until early next morning to descend and push inland.

The survey team found a spring near several large rocks at the summit. The area was flat, strewn with large stones and sparse vegetation—fresh water nearby. An excellent campsite. The two agreed to bivouac there for the night. Liu Zheng had his men build a bonfire under a clump of small trees and sent others to scatter sulfur and lime around the perimeter to ward off snakes and insects.

Dinner consisted of field rations. Though they had spotted deer, wild boar, and other game on the way up, Qian Shuixie had forbidden hunting out of caution and health concerns. Even so, the famished team members devoured their rations like a whirlwind. Chandler prepared a proper meal for Liu Zheng and Qian Shuixie using transmigrator-grade field rations, which the two ate with relish.

"Your orderly is quite capable," Liu Zheng praised.

"Yes, very capable. Pity he's like us—haha." Qian Shuixie lit a farm-produced cigar with a stick from the fire, puffing smoke. "Not multi-purpose."

Liu Zheng teased, "I think young Chandler looks pretty good."

"I'm not gay, nor one of those effete Ming scholars," Qian Shuixie chuckled. "Speaking of which, for a married man like me, keeping a maid is something I dare not even dream of. Even with the wife in Guangzhou, living apart, I have to behave..."

Of course, Qian Shuixie nominally had a maid currently aboard the Feiyun—he simply couldn't develop things in that direction.

"Listen to you, as if I don't have a wife myself," Liu Zheng said.

Qian Shuixie recalled that Liu Zheng did indeed have a wife, and quite good-looking with a nice figure. He'd heard she had once been in the arts. At the annual meeting, Liu Shuixin had sung a few songs—trained classical voice, very professional.

Liu Zheng said, "I hear the General Office is opening some 'Lingao Illumination House' or something. How about it—when we get back, let's go for a sauna together?"

"Why not? I'm far from the Emperor and the wife is even farther. As long as your wife doesn't object, let's go."

"No problem," Liu Zheng said. "Just a bath and a back rub—what's there to object to?"