"That is the chief," said the interpreter.
Pakhom immediately got out his best dressing-gown and gave it to the chief, with five pounds of tea besides. The chief took the presents and sat down in the place of honour. And immediately the Bashkirs began to tell him all about Pakhom. He listened and listened, and now and then he smiled. Then he began to speak in Russian.
"Be it so," said he, "take what seems best to you. There's enough land and to spare."
"What!" thought Pakhom, "I may take as much as I like. But I must make sure of it somehow. To-day they may say take it, 'tis yours, and to-morrow they may take it back again. I thank you for your good words," added he aloud. "You have indeed very much land and I don't want much; but I should like to know exactly what is to be mine. We must measure it fair and square somehow, and I must be put into sure possession of it. Life and death are in God's hands. You who give it to me are good people, but your children may take it away again."
The chief smiled. "May be," said he, "we will make it sure then—surer than sure."
Pakhom spoke again, "I have heard," said he, "from a merchant who used to be here, that you gave him much land and made an agreement with him, do the same with me."
The chief understood perfectly.
"Quite so," said he, "we have a scribe here, and we'll go to town and have the agreement signed and sealed."
93
