HOW MUCH LAND DOES A MAN NEED?
Leo Tolstoy
Adapted and Abridged by Blogger
AN ELDER SISTER came to visit her younger sister in the country. The elder was married to a tradesman in town, the younger to a peasant in the village. Leo Tolstoy
Adapted and Abridged by Blogger
The elder boasted of the advantages of town life and how she went to the theatre, promenades, and entertainments. The younger sister was annoyed, and defended peasant life.
“We may live roughly, but at least we are free from anxiety," she said. "But you, in your towns, are surrounded by temptations; to-day all may be right, but to-morrow the Evil One may tempt your husband with card, wine, or women, and all will go to ruin. Don’t such things happen often enough?”
Pahom, her husband was lying on the top of the stove and he listened to the chatter.
“It's true,” he thought. "We peasants have no time to let any nonsense settle in our heads. Our only trouble is we haven’t land enough. If I had plenty of land, I shouldn’t fear the Devil himself!”
Presently Pahom heard that a neighbor of his was buying fifty acres, and that the lady had consented to accept one half in cash and to wait a year for the other half. Pahom felt envious. So he and his wife sold a colt and half of their bees, hired out one of their sons as a laborer and took his wages in advance; borrowed the rest from a brother-in-law, and scraped together half the money.
Then Pahom chose a farm of forty acres, some of it wooded, and bargained for it. He paid half down, and promised the rest in two years.
Now Pahom had land of his own. He borrowed seed, and sowed it.
The harvest was good. In a year he paid off his debts. So he became a landowner.
One day Pahom was sitting at home when a peasant, passing through the village, happened to call in. He came from beyond the Volga, and said many people were settling there. The land was so good, he said, that the rye sown on it grew as high as a horse. Pahom thought,
“Why should I suffer in this narrow hole?"
Pahom sold his land at a profit, then started with his family for the new settlement. As soon as Pahom and his family reached their new abode, he applied for admission into the Commune of a large village.
He was ten times better off than he had been. He had plenty of arable land and pasturage, and could keep as many head of cattle as he liked.
At first, in the bustle of building and settling down, Pahom was pleased with it all, but when he got used to it he began to think that even here he had not enough land. Pahom wanted to sow more wheat, so he rented land from a dealer for a year.
He had a fine crop, but the land was too far from the village - the wheat had to be carted more than ten miles. After a time Pahom noticed that some peasant-dealers were living on separate farms and were growing wealthy. He thought:
“If I were to buy some freehold land and have a homestead on it, it would be different. Then it would be nice and compact.”
So Pahom began looking for land he could buy; and he came across a peasant who had bought thirteen hundred acres. Pahom haggled and they settled the price at 1,500 rubles, part in cash and part to be paid later.
They had all but clinched the matter when a passing dealer happened to stop at Pahom’s one day to get a feed for his horses. He drank tea with Pahom and they talked.
The dealer said he was returning from the land of the Bashkirs, far away, where he had bought thirteen thousand acres of land for 1,000 rubles.
“There is more land there than you could cover if you walked a year, and it all belongs to the Bashkirs. They are as simple as sheep, and land can be got almost for nothing.”
Pahom left his wife to look after the homestead, and started on his journey taking his man with him. On the seventh day they came to a place where the Bashkirs had pitched their tents.
As soon as they saw Pahom, they came out of their tents and gathered round their visitor. An interpreter was found.
“They wish to tell you,” said the interpreter, “that they like you, and it is our custom to do all we can to please a guest and to repay him for his gifts. You have given us presents. Now tell us which of the things we possess please you best, that we may give them to you.”
“What pleases me best here,” answered Pahom, “is your land." The interpreter translated. The Bashkirs talked among themselves. Then the interpreter said:
“They wish me to tell you that in return for your presents they will give you as much land as you want. Just point it out with your hand and it's yours."
“How much?” asked Pahom.
“As much as you can go round on your feet in a day is yours, and the price is one thousand rubles a day."
Pahom was surprised.
“But in a day you can get round a large tract of land,” he said.
The Chief laughed.
“It will all be yours!” said he. “But if you don’t return on the same day to the spot where you started, your money is lost.”
“But how can I mark the way that I have gone?”
“We shall go to any spot you like, and stay there. You must start from that spot and make your round with a spade. Wherever you think necessary, make a mark. Then dig a hole and pile up the turf. You may make as large a circuit as you please, but before the sun sets you must return to the place you started from. All the land you cover will be yours.”
Pahom lay awake all night, and dozed off just before dawn. He dreamed he was lying in his tent and heard somebody chuckling outside. It was the Devil.
“What things one does dream,” he thought when he awoke.
Looking around he saw the dawn was breaking.
“It’s time to go to the steppe to measure the land,” he said.
The Bashkirs rose and assembled. The Chief came too. They offered Pahom tea, but he would not wait.
“If we are to go, let's go. It's high time,” said he.
They ascended a hillock. The Chief came up to Pahom and stretched out his arm towards the plain:
“See,” he said, “all this, as far as your eye can reach, is ours. You may have any part of it you like.”
The Chief took off his fox-fur cap, placed it on the ground and said:
“This will be the mark. Start here, and return here again. All the land you go round shall be yours.”
Pahom started walking. After a thousand yards he dug a hole, and placed pieces of turf to make it more visible. After a while he dug another hole.
“I will go on for another three miles,” he thought, “and then turn to the left. This spot is so fine, it would be a pity to lose it. The further one goes, the better the land seems.”
After many hours the hillock was scarcely visible and the people on it looked like black ants.
"It's time to turn," he thought. "Besides I am in a regular sweat, and very thirsty.”
Pahom grew tired. He sat down, ate bread and drank water; but he did not lie down, afraid to fall asleep.
After sitting a while, he went on again. He went a long way when he saw a damp hollow.
“It would be a pity to leave that out,” he thought. “Flax would do well there.” So he dug a hole on the other side of it before he turned the corner.
Pahom looked towards the hillock. He longed to rest, but it was impossible if he meant to get back by sunset.
It was hard walking but Pahom went quicker. He began running, threw away his coat, his boots, his flask, and his cap, and kept only the spade for support.
His breast was working like a blacksmith’s bellows, his heart was beating like a hammer, and his legs were giving way as if they did not belong to him.
Though afraid of death, he could not stop. He took a long breath and ran up the hillock.
It was still light. He reached the top and saw the cap. Before it sat the Chief chuckling.
Pahom remembered his dream, and uttered a cry. His legs gave way beneath him, he fell forward.
“Ah, that’s a fine fellow!” exclaimed the Chief. “He has gained much land!”
Pahom’s servant came and tried to raise him, but he saw that blood was flowing from his mouth. Pahom was dead!
His servant picked up the spade and dug a grave long enough for Pahom to lie in, and buried him in it. Six feet from his head to his heels was all he needed.
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Nice post.
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