Part 4

The two tribes assembled about the two bargaining men. They forgot even what the bargaining was about. It was just a contest of wits. The two men were looking at each other silently, each one watching for the other to make an opening.

“Where is blind Jorga, that he tell me a story?” Mincu called mockingly, having lost patience.

“Leave blind Jorga out of that,” Sava answered in anger.

Mincu caught the eye of his daughter.

“If you talk about silver you will drain the wine of the country before I say another word.”

“Gold! Gold!” called Mincu’s men.

“Then gold it shall be,” Sava answered, and taking from his belt a heavy purse he tendered it to Mincu. “There are a hundred pieces of gold here. What say you?”

In answer to Sava’s offer Mincu turned his back and spoke to his men.

“Harness up. Another few hours we shall reach Ploesti and be received by our own people.”

Sava looked at Tira, who returned his glance without flinching.

“And so a thousand gold pieces were offered and you refused?”

“It was the man I refused and not the gold,” Tira answered angrily. “You should have come to me first.”

She turned her back and left him.

Sava sat down on his heels and watched how Mincu and his men were harnessing their horses. Sava’s men were happy to see him so interested in a woman. They were anxious to see him settled with a family. It was no good having a chief without a wife and not knowing where his eyes might cast about for one.

Sava called the oldest men of his tribe and spoke to them softly. The old men approached Mincu with great ceremony.

“Pass this night with us, pray. It is too late to reach Ploesti before nightfall. There have been heavy rains in the mountains, and the ground is still soggy. There is meat aplenty here, and wine, and the strings of the fiddles have not all snapped.”

Mincu resisted, claiming that he could reach Ploesti with the kind of horses he had, no matter what the roads were. But ultimately the old men and the people of Sava’s tribe prevailed upon the guests to stay overnight.

Mincu unbuttoned his coat in preparation for the new glass of wine. Tira was sitting at the end of her wagon, her legs dangling.

“To show that I am grateful that you have remained here with us, Mincu, I will offer you two hundred gold pieces,” Sava said.

Mincu shook his head and answered in reproachful accents, “I have remained as a guest and not as a trader.”

“Three hundred,” Sava called out, to the amazement of his men.

And then, as Mincu still shook his head, Sava called out in quick succession: “Four hundred. Five hundred.”

Mincu turned around and looked at his daughter, who shook her head negatively.

“That is not half enough. I would willingly take it if it were my daughter’s will. It would be worth the difference between that and a thousand for me for the happiness of my daughter. But she is unwilling, Sava.”

Sava moved away from the chief and sat down near Tira. Never before had he been so electrified as he was by the nearness of that woman beside him.

“And so you urge your father to refuse five hundred gold pieces that you become my wife,” he asked, looking into her eyes.

“I would tell him to refuse a thousand,” Tira answered calmly. “You should have spoken to me first,” she added.

Sava left her and went to talk with his men. The night was long. If her father was a trader, he, too, was one. No one should be able to say, “Mincu has bested Sava in a bargain!” He knew that his people would ply Mincu with wine to soften him into a better bargain.

Late that night Tira was still dangling her feet from the rear end of the wagon. She was talking to her father. Sava could not hear what she said to him, but he heard Mincu argue with her heatedly.

It looked as though his men had brought Mincu to reason. He regretted he had offered five hundred gold pieces for the girl. Perhaps if he had stopped at four hundred! Or even three hundred! It was not only the money, but to be beaten in a bargain by another man!

Mincu was half drunk now. He put his two hands on Sava’s shoulders and said:

“I talked to Tira. She says she won’t have you, that I should not sell her to you. And I so much want to have you for my son, Sava. But she won’t have you. Oh, women! Who can ever tell what is in their hearts. Who can? Fill my glass, men; fill it.”

“What kind of a father are you?” Sava questioned.

“Yes, what kind of a father are you that you cannot tell her what to do?” Sava’s people shouted. “Tell us! Are you her slave or her master?”

“It is not only that,” Mincu rejoined. “But if it is to get her a husband she does not want I can turn around and get the thousand gold pieces the Cherkess has offered, or the two horses I wanted so much.”

He had sobered up the moment he was again bargaining. Drunk or sober, he was a trader.

“I have offered you five hundred. I am offering six hundred now,” Sava called out.

Mincu’s eyes brightened, but he still shook his head.

“Seven hundred,” called out Sava, after a brief moment. “It is all I have!”

“Then wait a few more years,” Mincu answered jestingly. “Don’t give away all you have!”

Sava sank into himself. It really was all he possessed. He would willingly have offered more. What did money count against the possession of such a woman as Tira? Her pale, round face shamed the moon. Her eyes gave more warmth than the fire that was burning and crackling.

Blind Jorga edged up to Sava. “When I last saw thee thou wert no higher than my knees. But I know thee and have listened to thy voice during all the years. Take this.” And he put his purse into Sava’s hands. “It is all I have. Offer that also for the woman thou lovest.”

Sava’s friends saw Jorga put his purse into their chief’s hands and were now ready to give all they possessed that he buy himself the woman he loved.

“Silence!” blind Jorga called. “He has offered seven hundred. He can now offer a hundred more gold pieces. And by my beard, he will not offer more! Mincu! Where is Mincu!”

“If it is to marry her to a man she does not want why should I take eight hundred when a thousand has been offered to me?” Mincu answered.

Another gypsy put his purse into Sava’s hands. “It is fifty gold pieces. All I have.”

And those fifty were offered to Mincu.

Then one after another the other men gave, each one everything he possessed, until the full sum of a thousand gold pieces was reached.

“There is a thousand,” Jorga called out joyfully, for he was conducting the deal.

At the loud huzzas of the people, Tira joined the circle.

“It is a thousand gold pieces they have offered for you, Tira, and I have accepted.”

Sava looked at her. He was happy, not only because he had bought her for a thousand gold pieces, but also because his people had so self-sacrificingly offered of their own free will the money they had saved in long years of dangerous toil. He was proud of their love for him. He felt stronger than he had ever felt before--as if all their strength had joined his. He looked at them with tears in his eyes. He looked at her. She was angry, defiant. She could not understand that if she was worth a thousand gold pieces to him she was worth all the gold in the world to his people, and they to him more than that.

Screaming at the top of her voice, Tira threw herself at her father’s chest beating with her two fists.

“Oh! To have sold me to a man I do not want! Oh! Oh! Oh! Against my will. Against my will. He should have spoken to me first. To me. To me.”

She tore her hair and clawed her breasts and face. That a daughter should dare so to behave toward her father! But Sava’s whip will cow her into a dutiful wife!

They looked at Sava, expecting to see the joy of the prospective taming of such a woman. But he stood with his eyes closed, and his face became sadder and sadder as Tira’s rage grew.

His mind climbed over the mountains to that other woman, to the young widow whose love for him was so intense, who made him feel so sure of himself. She was always waiting for him.

What sort of woman would be waiting for him on his return from a dangerous journey if he were to marry Tira? True, he could beat Tira into submission. But he could not force love from her; not the kind of love the other woman had for him. And he weighed and measured. Was the nearness of the one who loves you not dearer than the nearness of the one who does not?

Meanwhile, Tira’s rage grew and grew. She clawed and cried and cursed. Oh, it would be pleasant to tame her! The desire to tame her was growing in him every second. He would have liked to begin right then and there. But she was still Mincu’s daughter. She was not yet his wife.

She did not love him. He could see that. What kind of woman would await his return from the other side of the mountains? He would come to her with a heart full of love, tired, hungry, wounded. How would she receive him? Marga, the widow, would be waiting for him--expecting him.

The poet of the tribe, old Jorga, was chanting: “A thousand gold pieces Sava pays for the woman he desires! That is the kind of men we have. They pay everything they possess for the women they love. That is the kind of men we are. When a man does not have all the money, all the gold, we give it to him, that he purchase his heart’s desire.”

They had meanwhile dragged Tira to the wedding rug. She had suddenly quieted down and was awaiting Sava in the center of the weave. She had dried her tears and was straightening her hair while the men and women shouted and laughed.

“Sava, give Mincu your purse that he give you the hand of his daughter,” Jorga asked, fumbling for Sava’s hand.

Sava remained silent. His eyes had a far-away look.... Suddenly he looked with searching eyes into the face of Tira.

“Bring me my horse,” he called to one of his men. “Let her marry the man she loves. I am going to fetch here the woman who loves me!”

And, throwing the purse into Jorga’s hands, he turned to Mincu and called: “It is a bad bargain you have driven, Mincu. A woman like her is worth ten times a thousand gold pieces--to the man she loves. But she will only be anguish and death to the man she does not love! If you hate the Cherkess, sell her to him.”

And Sava sped his way across the mountains to the woman who was ever waiting for him.

Transcriber’s Notes

Hyphenation has been retained as in the original publication. p.28: “though” --> “thought” (he thought how). p.28: “Petrinau” --> “Petrianu” (hard man, Petrianu was...). p.42: “she bear” has been retained as in the original publication (she bear). p.47: “understod” --> “understood” (They let it be understood). p.58: “loked” --> “looked” (turned around and looked). p.59: “he” --> “be” (but to be beaten). p.62: “Meanwhile.” --> “Meanwhile,” (Meanwhile, Tira’s rage).