Chapter 5
HOW MUCH LAND DOES A MAN NEED?
Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910) is one of the best known of Russian writers. He wrote many novels, short stories and an autobiography called My Confessions. He is primarily famous for classics like War and Peace (1869) and Anna Karenina (1877).
How Much Land Does a Man Need illustrates the emptiness that lies beneath the growing material ambition of man. The ironical and inevitable fate that awaits material pursuit is underscored with the concluding line, 'Six feet from his head to his heels was all he needed.'
I
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. As the sisters sat over their tea talking, the elder began to boast of the advantages of town life : saying how comfortably they lived there, how well they dressed, what fine clothes her children wore, and what good things they ate and drank. The younger sister was piqued.
'I would not change my way of life for yours,' said she, 'We may live roughly, but at least we are free from anxiety. You live in better style than we do, but though you often earn more than you need, you are very likely to lose all you have. You know the proverb, “Loss and gain are brothers twain.” It often happens that people who are wealthy one day, are begging their bread the next.Our way is safer. Though a peasant's life is not a fat one, it is a long one. We shall never grow rich, but we shall always have enough to eat.'
Pakhom, the master of the house, was listening to the women's chatter.
'It is perfectly true,' thought he. “Busy as we are from childhood tilling mother earth, we peasants have no time to let any nonsense settle in our heads. Our only trouble is that we haven't land enough. If I had plenty of land, I shouldn't fear the Devil himself!
The women finished their tea, chatted a while about dress, and then cleared away the tea-things and lay down to sleep.
But the Devil had been sitting behind the store, and had heard all that was said. He was pleased that the peasant's wife had led her husband into boasting, and that he had said that if he had plenty of land, he would not fear the Devil himself.
‘All right,' thought the Devil. “We will have a tussle. I'll give you land enough; and by means of that land I will get you into my power.
II
Close to the village there lived a lady, a small landowner who had an estate of about three hundred acres. In the winter the news got about that the lady was going to sell her land. Pakhom heard that a neighbour 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. Pakhom felt envious.
‘Look at that,' thought he 'the land is all being sold, and I shall get none of it. So he spoke to his wife. 'Other people are buying,' said he, “and we must also buy twenty acres, or so. Life is becoming impossible.'
So they put their heads together and considered how they could manage to buy it. They had one hundred roubles laid by. They sold a colt, and one half of their bees, hired out one of their sons as a labourer and took his wages in advance; borrowed the rest from a brother-in-law, and so scraped together half the purchase money.
Having done this, Pakhom chose out a farm of forty acres, some of it wooded, and went to the lady to bargain for it. They came to an agreement, and he shook hands with her upon it and paid her a deposit in advance. Then they went to town and signed the deeds; he paying half the price down, and undertaking to pay the remainder within two years.
So now Pakhom had land of his own. He borrowed seeds, and sowed them on the land he had bought. The harvest was a good one, and within a year he had managed to pay off his debts both to the lady and to his brother-in-law. So he became a landowner, ploughing and sowing his own land, making hay on his own land, cutting his own trees, and feeding his cattle on his own pasture.
III
One day Pakhom was sitting at home when a peasant, passing through the village, happened to call in. He was allowed to stay the night, and supper was given to him. Pakhom had a talk with this peasant and asked him where he came from. The stranger answered that he came from beyond the Volga, where he had been working. One word led to another, and the man went on to say that many people were settling in those parts. The land was so good, he said, that the rye sown on it grew as high as a horse, and so thick that five cuts of a sickle made a sheaf. One peasant, he said, had brought nothing with him but his bare hands, and now he had six horses and two cows of his own.
Pakhom's heart kindled with desire. He thought : ‘Why should I suffer in this narrow hole, if one can live so well elsewhere? I will sell my land and my homestead here, and with the money I will start afresh over there and get everything new. In this crowded place one is always having trouble. But I must first go and find out all about it myself.'
Towards summer he got ready and started. He went down the Volga on a steamer to Samara, then walked another three hundred miles on foot, and at last reached the place. It was just as the stranger had said. The peasants had plenty of land. Anyone who had money could buy land at two shillings an acre as much good freehold land as he wanted.
Having found out all he wished to know, Pakhom returned home. As autumn came on, he began selling off his belongings. He sold his land at a profit, sold his homestead and all his cattle. He only waited till the spring, and then started with his family for the new settlement.
IV
As soon as Pakhom and his family reached their new abode, he put up the buildings he needed, and bought cattle. He now had three times as much as at his former home, and the land was good cornland. He was ten times better off than he had been. He had plenty of land, and could keep as many head of cattle as he liked.
Pakhom was pleased with it all, but when he got used to it he began to think that even here he had not enough land. The first year, he sowed wheat on his land and had a good crop. After a time Pakhom noticed that some peasant-dealers were living on separate farms and were growing wealthy; and he thought: 'If I were to buy some more land it would be different thing altogether.' The question of buying more land recurred to him again and again.
So Pakhom began looking out for land which he could buy; and he came across a peasant who had bought thirteen hundred acres, but having got into difficulties was willing to sell again cheap. Pakhom bargained and haggled with him, and at last they settled the price at 1,500 roubles, part in cash and part to be paid later. They had all but clinched the matter when a passing dealer happened to stop at Pakhom's one day to get a feed for his horses. He drank tea with Pakhom and they had a talk. The dealer said that he was just returning from the land of the Bashkirs, far away, where he had bought thirteen thousand acres of land, all for 1,000 roubles. Pakhom questioned him further, and the tradesman said :
'All one need do is to make friends with the chiefs. I gave away about one hundred roubles worth of silk robes and carpets, besides a case of tea, and I gave wine to those who would drink it; and I got the land for less than a penny an acre.' And he showed Pakhom the title-deeds, saying :
“The land lies near a river, and the whole prairie is virgin soil.'
Pakhom plied him with questions, and the tradesman said:
“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.'
“There is more land,' thought Pakhom, 'with my one thousand roubles, why should I get only thirteen hundred acres, and saddle myself with a debt besides? If I take it out there, I can get more than ten times as much for the money.'
V
Pakhom left his wife to look after the homestead, and started on his journey taking the tradesman with him. On and on they went, until they had gone more than three hundred miles, and on the seventh day they came to a place where the Bashkirs had pitched their tents. It was all just as the tradesman had said.
As soon as they saw Pakhom, they came out of their tents and gathered round their visitor. An interpreter was found and Pakhom told them that he had come about to have some land. The Bashkirs seemed very glad; they took Pakhom and led him into one of the best tents, where they made him sit on some down cushions placed on a carpet, while they sat around him. They gave him some tea and kumiss and had a sheep killed, and gave him mutton to eat. Pakhom took presents out of his cart and distributed them among the Bashkirs, and divided the tea amongst them. The Bashkirs were delighted. They talked a great deal among themselves, and then told the interpreter to translate.
“They wish to tell you’, said the interpreter, 'that they like you, and that 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 present them to you'.
'What pleases me best, here,' answered Pakhom, ‘is your land. Our land is crowded and the soil is exhausted; but you have plenty of land and it is good land. I never saw the like of it.'
Pakhom immediately fetched the best dressing-gown and five pounds of tea, and offered these to the chief. The chief accepted them, and seated himself in the place of honour. The Bashkirs at once began telling him something. The chief listened for a while, then made a sign with his head for them to be silent, and addressing himself to Pakhom, said in Russian : 'Well, let it be so. Choose whatever piece of land you like; we have plenty of it.'
“And what will be the price?' asked Pakhom.
"Our price is always the same: one thousand roubles a day.' Pakhom did not understand.
‘A day? What measure is that? How many acres would that be?
'We do not know how to reckon it out,' said the chief. “We sell it by the day. As much as you can go round on your feet in a day is yours, and the price is one thousand roubles a day.'
Pakhom 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 there is one condition; if you don't return on the same day to the spot whence you started, your money is lost.'
Pakhom was delighted. It was decided to start early next morning. They gave Pakhom a feather-bed to sleep on, and the Bashkirs dispersed for the night.
VI
Pakhom 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.'
In the morning, he got up, roused his man (who was sleeping in his cart), bade him harness; and went to call the Bashkirs.
'It's time to go to the steppe to measure the land,' he said.
The Bashkirs rose and assembled, and the chief came too. They ascended a hillock (called by the Bashkirs a shikhan) and dismounting from their carts and their horses, gathered in one spot. The chief came up to Pakhom and stretching out his arm towards the plain.
'See,' said he, “all this, as far as your eye can reach, is ours. You may have any part of it you like.'
Pakhom's eyes glistened : it was all virgin soil.
The chief took off his fox-fur cap, placed it on the ground and said : "This will be the mark. Start from here, and return here again. All the land you go round shall be yours.'
Pakhom took out his money and put it on the cap. Then he took off his outer coat, remaining in his sleeveless undercoat. He unfastened his girdle and tied it tight below his stomach, put a little bag of bread into the breast of his coat, and tying a flask of water to his girdle, he drew up the tops of his boots, took the spade from his man, and stood ready to start. He considered for some moments which way he had better go-it was tempting everywhere.
‘No matter,' he concluded, 'I will go towards the rising sun.'
Pakhom started walking neither slowly nor quickly. After having gone a thousand yards he stopped, dug a hole, and placed pieces of turf one on another to make it more visible. Then he went on; and now that he had walked off his stiffness he quickened his pace. After a while he dug another hole.
‘I will go on for another three miles,' thought he, "and then turn to the left. This spot is so fine, that it would be a pity to lose it. The further one goes, the better the land seems.'
He went straight on for a while and when he looked round, the hillock was scarcely visible and the people on it looked like black ants, and he would just see something glistening there in the sun.
'Ah,' thought Pakhom, 'I have gone far enough in this direction, it is time to turn. Besides I am in a regular sweat, and very thirsty.'
He stopped, dug a large hole, and heaped up pieces of turf. Next he untied his flask, had a drink and then turned sharply to the left. He went on and on; the grass was high, and it was very hot.
Pakhom began to grow tired: he looked at the sun and saw that it was noon.
“Well,' he thought, 'I must have a rest.'
It had become terribly hot and he felt sleepy, still he went on and on, thinking : 'An hour to suffer, a lifetime to live.'
Late in the afternoon, Pakhom thought of turning back. So he hurriedly dug a hole, and turned straight towards the hillock.
VII
Pakhom went straight towards the hillock, but he now walked with difficulty. He was done up with the heat, his bare feet were cut and bruised, and his legs began to fail. He longed to rest, but it was impossible if he meant to get back before sunset. The sun waits for no man, and it was sinking lower and lower.
He looked towards the hillock and at the sun.He was still far from his goal, and the sun was already near the rim.
Pakhom walked on and on; it was very hard walking but he went quicker and quicker. He pressed on, but was still far from the place. He began running, threw away his coat, his boots, his flask and his cap, and kept only the spade which he used as a support.
'What shall I do?' he thought again, 'I have grasped too much and ruined the whole affair. I can't get there before the sun sets.'
And this fear made him still more breathless. Pakhom went on running, his soaking shirt and trousers stuck to him and his mouth was parched. His breast was working like a blacksmith's bellows, his heart was beating like hammer, and his legs were giving way as if they did not belong to him. Pakhom was seized with terror lest he should die of the strain.
Though afraid of death, he could not stop. He gathered his last strength and ran on.
The sun was quite low, but he was also quite near his aim. Pakhom could already see the people on the hillock waving their arms to hurry him up.
Pakhom looked at the sun, which had reached the earth: one side of it had already disappeared. With all his remaining strength he rushed on, bending his body forward so that his legs could hardly follow fast enough to keep him from falling. He took a long breath and ran up the hillock. It was still light there. He reached the top and saw the cap. Before it sat the chief laughing and holding his sides. Again Pakhom uttered a cry: his legs gave way beneath him, he fell forward and reached the cap with his hands.
“Ah, that's a fine fellow!' exclaimed the chief. 'He has gained much land!'
Pakhom's servant came running up and tried to raise him, but he saw that blood was flowing from his mouth. Pakhom was dead!
The Bashkirs clicked their tongues to show their pity.
His servant picked up the spade and dug a grave long enough for Pakhom to lie in, and buried him in it. Six feet from his head to his heels was all he needed.