noveltune Chapter 125 Measures to Cope with Drought
Chapter 125 Measures to Cope with Drought
Chapter 125 Measures to Cope with Drought
drought!
Tom's heart tightened. He could almost see the pasture turning yellow and withering before his eyes. If God didn't send rain, the grass would be lost, and his hundreds of cattle would go hungry!
The rainy season passed peacefully, though.
The torrential rain poured down, and although the Yellowstone River swelled, it didn't go mad; the dikes stood firm, and the grasslands along the banks remained unscathed.
But this absolutely does not mean that the scorching sun of the dry season cannot dry this land!
With the Yellowstone River flowing right next to it, how could it possibly lack water? Tom didn't believe it.
"Build an irrigation canal!" An idea popped into his head. "Draw the river water to those high-lying, parched grasslands, so the grass can drink its fill!"
But here's the problem: how can the river water in the low-lying area climb up to the grassland in the high-lying area?
"Then let's buy a windmill!" James made his decision.
Now Tom finally understood what a windmill was.
This thing was originally a standard piece of equipment on American western ranches in the 19th century, known as a "ranch windmill" or "farm windmill", which was used to solve the problems of livestock not having water and pastures drying out!
It has ten to thirty large wooden leaves, like a giant "wind rose," which can be set in motion by the slightest breeze.
Hidden inside is a mechanism for the crankshaft and connecting rod, which can transform the force of the whirring wind into the up-and-down motion of the water pump piston, directly lifting the water from the lower level.
The windmill, with its wooden frame and cast iron parts, is sturdy and durable, making it perfect for their remote ranch.
"Zack!" Tom immediately called out, "Pack your money, go out and have a look around, find out where you can buy one of these little gems, and get me a few!"
Cooper chimed in, looking suspicious: "Tom, you're giving him all the money? Aren't you afraid he'll run off with it? Maybe—I should go and keep an eye on him?"
Zack didn't even lift his eyelids, replying coldly, "You're going with me? Then I really won't be coming back!"
Cooper's face instantly turned as red as a boiled shrimp.
Tom, too lazy to argue with the cousins, simply made the decision: "Enough talk, let's get a few to test their quality!"
Zach nodded and said nothing more.
As they were talking, the foreman accompanied the old cowboy engineer, whose face was etched with the marks of time, as they walked toward them.
Tom quickly went to meet him.
"I just heard you're going to buy a windmill?" the old cowboy asked casually.
"Yes." Tom nodded.
"There's no need to buy too many," the old cowboy said slowly. "You only have a few hundred head of livestock on your ranch, so you don't need to buy any more for now."
"If we don't need it this year, it's good to have it ready for next year!" Tom had his own plans.
"Hahaha!" The old cowboy chuckled. "Young man, those things aren't cheap! Montana winters are brutal, the wind is biting, and the anvils are freezing. By the end of the winter, most of the parts are broken! Don't waste money if you don't need it!"
Tom's heart skipped a beat as he suddenly realized how brutal the winter here was for machines!
He was pondering how many to buy when the old cowboy spoke up again, with the shrewdness of someone who'd been there before: "If you're really worried about drought and want to ensure your livestock's survival, building windmills and water storage tanks is the proper thing to do! If the livestock have water to drink, they won't panic. Build several water tanks, just in case, that's what truly saves lives!"
"Once the pool is full of water, the windmill will be idle anyway, and we can take some time to water the nearby grasslands, killing two birds with one stone!"
""
He added.
The meaning couldn't be clearer: build as many life-saving reservoirs as possible; as for windmills, just build enough to meet your needs, don't waste them.
"Alright! I'll do as you say, we'll buy five units first!" Tom made up his mind.
The foreman next to him immediately stepped forward, a shrewd smile plastered on his face, and began to introduce the windmill with the practiced ease of reciting a menu: "The capabilities of a windmill depend entirely on its blades:"
The leaves are two to three meters wide (diameter): it can pump 5 to 10 tons of water a day, enough for small households or families with few livestock.
The leaves are four to five meters wide: it can pump 10 to 15 tons a day, which is just right for a medium-sized pasture or to irrigate some crops.
The largest size has leaves that are five or six meters wide: it has the most strength and can collect 15 to 20 tons of water a day, making it a tough nut to crack for deep wells or large areas of land that need a concentrated supply of water.
A typhoon turbine can generally cover an area with a radius of 500 to 800 meters (approximately 80 to 200 acres). The exact distance it can cover depends on how high you lift the water and how smoothly the water pipes are laid.
The prices range from one hundred to four hundred US dollars!
Tom, seeing the foreman's knowing expression, suddenly understood and nodded, half-jokingly and half-seriously, "Wow, you have quite a few projects!"
The implication is that you've earned this money through a truly wide range of business operations!
Tom stopped wasting words and directly told Zack, "Go with their men and bring back five typhoon cars!"
He turned to the foreman and glared at him: "You can install the windmill, but you also have to dig the reservoir for me!"
The contractor nodded in agreement without hesitation.
With the windmill matter settled, Tom finally had time to ask the old cowboy why he had come.
"Here's the renovation plan you wanted!" The old cowboy handed over a roll of blueprints.
Tom unfolded it and exclaimed, "Wow, that's detailed enough!"
Even the purpose of the hot spring outlet to the north was briefly mentioned.
Running a hotel? Tom shook his head.
The map clearly delineates the living area, pasture area, and farming area, with their locations and distances clearly marked.
"Wait a minute," Tom frowned, pointing at the blueprints, "why is the residential area only two miles wide?"
The old cowboy gazed at the boundless grassland and chuckled, "Two miles isn't enough? This North Shore Heights is only three miles wide in total, you do the math!"
Area? Six square miles!
One square mile is 640 acres; that's an ironclad rule.
Six times six hundred and forty equals three thousand eight hundred and forty acres!
A standard football field is only 1.76 acres, so the entire highlands could be spread out to accommodate 2,182 football fields!
Tom was shocked: This Paradise Valley is really huge!
After all, it is a full sixty miles long from north to south, and although it is said to be six miles wide from east to west, it is actually less than that when you take in the hills, slopes and narrow ravines.
"The farmland covers twenty miles, while the ranch is only forty?" Tom glanced at the old cowboy. "Farming doesn't require that much space!"
""
"We could add a little more land to the ranch."
Tom really didn't understand how much harvest would come from planting so much grain.
"If we could harvest 20,000 tons of grain in this valley," the old cowboy said, his eyes burning as he stared at Tom, "it could feed so many hungry mouths in the West! No one else can do it, but you, Tom, can!"
He bent down, picked up a stone, and with a flick of his wrist, smashed it into the river with a "plop," splashing water and creating ripples.
"Since you're so determined to settle down here, and you're willing to spend the money, why not give it a try? If you succeed, how many lives could you save!"
Tom didn't fully understand what the old cowboy was saying, but that didn't stop him from being moved.
It's just farming, right? Let's do it!
"What's this now?" Tom pressed his finger heavily against a house marker on the blueprint, his brow furrowed. "We agreed on only one stone house, so why are they all made of stone?"
The old cowboy stretched leisurely, his knuckles cracking, and grinned. "Recently, I heard a rumor. It's said that some young cowboy got incredibly lucky, sold a gold mine, and made a killing—"
"Stop!" Tom rudely interrupted him. "Just one sentence: every house inhabited, use stones!"
Before he could finish speaking, his gaze swept across the other corner of the drawing, and he froze instantly!
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