Worried that tribesn would co to have patterns painted in the following days, Eric solemnly handed the "brush" to Tang, the first person who ca to paint his hide, telling him that as long as the plants were non-toxic and had strong colors, they could be used.
Just pound them to get the juice and paint on the animal hide.
Paint whatever pattern one likes; feel free to be creative.
Eric also drew several simple patterns of flowers, leaves, kittens, and puppies on paper, then taught them to Tang.
Painting all sorts of colors and patterns on animal hides imdiately beca a trend in the tribe; even the Tiger tribe couldn’t escape it.
Everyone took advantage of their daily rest ti to invite friends in groups of three or five to gather plants with colors they liked, and then paint each other’s animal skin clothes.
The Tiger tribe ca from the Golden Kingdom and was wealthier than the Snow Wolves. They basically wore fabric clothes made by human tailors; conversely, very few wore animal hides.
Fabric absorbed and bled color easily.
Sunflower was surprised to find that his subordinates had recently been wearing animal skin clothes in such hot weather; he really couldn’t understand it.
He quickly discovered the reason.
The animal skin clothes of the Tiger tribe, whether belonging to females or males, were painted with all sorts of strange patterns. When gathered together, it looked incredibly lively.
He didn’t know where this trend started. Was it beautiful? Sunflower’s mind was hazy; they weren’t these scattered Snow Wolves who couldn’t afford dyed fabric.
Tiger tribe warriors held an important position in the kingdom, receiving quite a bit of money each month. A family needed only one warrior to live very well.
Since humans and the kingdom interacted frequently, they began to pursue the clothing of human nobility, deliberately buying ready-made clothes. Although this was more expensive than buying fabric directly, it was more beautiful and well-fitted than what beastn made themselves.
Although he still hated humans, he couldn’t deny that their sewing talent was indeed superior to beastn’s; this was also one of the advantages that helped humans survive.
At this mont, Eric had to say, don’t underestimate the appeal of DIY.
In his previous life, when entertainnt products were abundant, there were still many people who loved making handicrafts, let alone here where there was almost no entertainnt.
Things made by oneself brought a great sense of achievent; Eric had even knitted a scarf before.
After the herd of dairy cows was brought to the Hadu tribe, initially, because the sll of beastn was everywhere and the ranch had over a dozen beastn working there, the sll of beastn constantly surrounded them even if they didn’t see them.
Besides the usual wild chickens, wild ducks, and white rabbits, the ranch also had so low-level magical beasts, gray rabbits.
Although their level wasn’t high, they were still a threat to the dairy cows, causing them to eat and sleep poorly for several days.
Having already drifted on a ship, nearly two hundred dairy cows in poor health had died on the way and were used as extra als. Most of the remaining dairy cows were skin and bones.
It was hard enough to get on land, but on the way, they continuously passed through the territories of various magical beasts and beastn, living in fear at all tis.
Eric had looked a few tis, fearing that these dairy cows wouldn’t survive here.
But he couldn’t possibly keep beastn away and create a completely isolated space for them.
Firstly, there were no conditions for it. Secondly, even if slaves were in charge of herding cows, beastn still had to co over to deliver food and various daily necessities.
On the third day after the herd arrived at the tribe, a few cows that were too weak died.
The remaining ones, under the day and night care of human slaves, survived and were willing to eat; it seed they had gotten used to life here.
"Well done, Gas. This is great; the tribe will have dairy products to eat this ti!" Eric happily patted the shoulder of the head slave, Gas.
In just a few short days, not only was the condition of the dairy herd better, but the condition of these human slaves was also much better.
Without supervisors beating and scolding them daily, being well-fed and warmly dressed in animal skin clothes brought by beastn, there was no better life than this.
Compared to their initial sallow and emaciated looks, after a few days, so slaves had rosier complexions, and their lifeless faces now had vitality.
With better living conditions and no supervisors, no slave was lazy; they worked very systematically.
Besides the fact that the slaves didn’t want to return to their previous lives, Gas also managed them very well. In terms of age or talent, the slaves were willing to listen to him.
There were no traitors among the slaves; after years of torture, they weren’t treated as humans. Deep down, they also regarded themselves as tools, and how could tools have their own thoughts?
Eric didn’t deliberately send beastn to supervise.
He wanted to let the humans relax and get used to life here, and he also wanted to see how the slaves worked without supervision.
It seed this Gas was a managent talent, and his attitude wasn’t bad.
Eric was very appreciative; handing this cow pen area over to him would be no problem.
Gas was a middle-aged man. Logically speaking, he wasn’t over forty, but his face looked weathered by wind and frost, covered in wrinkles, all traces of ti.
He hadn’t heard such sincere praise in a long ti, and a light flashed in his eyes: "The condition of the herd is much better, it’s just that a lot of milk has accumulated these past few days. The milk from the day before yesterday is already a bit sour."
"Ah, I forgot about this!" Eric patted his forehead in annoyance.
The first day the herd arrived, he had planned to let the beastn bring food and conveniently carry the milk to the canteen to share with everyone! What a pity, but there was a way to salvage it.
Eric asked with so confusion: "Why didn’t everyone drink it? It’s such a waste if it spoils."
"We didn’t dare." Gas waved his hands in panic: "I’m sorry, Young Master. I should have gone to tell the beastn."
"I don’t an to bla you. I an... sigh, never mind." Eric sighed helplessly.
He led Gas to the milk storage room.
There had been too much work these past few days; Eric had even forgotten to have a milking shed built.
The milk wasn’t collected by beastn either, so Gas could only temporarily store it in the dormitory.
The slave dormitory had two rooms. The slaves, afraid of dirtying the milk, all crowded into one bedroom at night, sparing one room to store the milk.
The milk from the first milking was at the very back; the whole room slled of sour milk.
The sll of sour milk wasn’t the yogurt sll Eric had drunk in his previous life; it was pungent and unpleasant.
He frowned and carried the buckets of sour milk out first.
Corbin was truly a good business partner.
Even though Eric was a beastman and his image in the eyes of humans wasn’t very good, and he had paid with raspberry wine in advance, Corbin didn’t slack off. The dairy cows found were all good breeds.
In his previous life, Eric was from the North. There were many families in the village raising cattle for plowing, and a few households raised dairy cows.
His maternal grandparents were old and lacked strength, so they couldn’t raise dairy cows. But because he liked drinking milk, his grandfather would take a bowl to the neighbor’s house every day to trade for milk for him to drink.
Over ti, he knew whose house had the best milk.
The dairy cows Corbin brought were breeds close to the high-yield Holstein cattle of his previous life; one look and you knew they had been carefully selected.
Over four hundred dairy cows, more than half were in their lactation period. Among them, dozens were at peak lactation, able to produce seventy or eighty catties each day.
The dairy cows in the low lactation period also produced thirty or forty catties daily.
In particular, these dairy cows were all carefully selected young cows; at least for the next seven years, their production wouldn’t decrease.
Calculated out, the tribe had over three tons of milk every day...
No wonder this dormitory room was filled with milk; even the milk buckets in the back were covered and stacked on top of each other, looking like a wall.
He didn’t know how these people managed it; a bucket of milk wasn’t light.
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