Twenty-Three Tales | ||
VII
Pahóm lay on the feather-bed, but could not sleep. He kept thinking about the land.
'What a large tract I will mark off!' thought he. 'I can easily do thirty-five miles in a day. The days are long now, and within a circuit of thirty-five miles what a lot of land there will be! I will sell the poorer land, or let it to peasants, but I'll pick out the best and farm it. I will buy two ox-teams, and hire two more labourers. About a hundred and fifty acres shall be plough-land, and I will pasture cattle on the rest.'
Pahóm lay awake all night, and dozed off only just before dawn. Hardly were his eyes closed when he had a dream. He thought he was lying in that same tent, and heard somebody chuckling outside. He wondered who it could be, and rose and went out and he saw the Bashkír Chief sitting in front of the tent holding his sides and rolling about with laughter. Going nearer to the Chief, Pahóm asked: 'What are you laughing at?' But he saw that it was no longer the Chief, but the dealer who had recently stopped at his house and had told him
'What things one does dream,' thought he.
Looking round he saw through the open door that the dawn was breaking.
'It's time to wake them up,' thought he. 'We ought to be starting.'
He got up, roused his man (who was sleeping in his cart), bade him harness; and went to call the Bashkírs.
'It's time to go to the steppe to measure the land,' he said.
The Bashkírs rose and assembled, and the Chief came too. Then they began drinking kumiss again, and offered Pahóm some tea, but he would not wait.
'If we are to go, let us go. It is high time,' said he.
Twenty-Three Tales | ||