desultory conversation that would precede talk of
consequence. Martha, ignored by the men, sat on the edge of the bed,
reading the big German-language Bible. Aaron and Kazunzumi sang on in
the heathen tongue about weather, beasts, and field-crops.

The Sarki leaned forward to examine Aaron's beard and shaven upper lip,
once; and smiled. The Murnan does not wear such. He looked at Martha
more casually now, seeing that the husband was not disgraced by his
wife's naked face; and remarked on the whiteness of her skin in the same
tones he'd mentioned Wutzchen's remarkable girth.

Aaron asked when the snows would cease, when the earth would thaw. The
Sarki told him, and said that the land here was as rich as manure.
Gradually the talk worked round to problems involving carpenters, nails,
lumber, hinges--and money. Aaron was pleased to discover that the
natives thought nothing of digging a cellar and raising a barn in
midwinter, and that workers could be easily hired.

Suddenly Sarki Kazunzumi stood and slapped his palms together. The tent
flap was shoved open. Bowed servants, who'd shivered outside for over an
hour, placed their master's presents on the sack table, on the twig
floor, even beside Martha on the bed. There were iron knives, a roast
kid, a basket of peanuts, a sack of roasted coffee beans, a string of
dried fruit, and a tiny earthware flask of perfume. There was even a
woolen riga for Aaron, black, suggesting that the Survey had said a bit
to the natives about Amish custom; and there were bolts of
bright-patterned cloth too worldly for aught but quilts and
infant-dresses, brightening Martha's eyes.

Aaron stood to accept the guest gifts with elaborate thanks. Sarki
Kazunzumi as elaborately bemeaned his offerings. "Musa the carpenter
will appear on tomorrow's tomorrow," he said. "You will, the Mother
willing, visit me in Datura tomorrow. We will together purchase lumber
worthy of my friend-neighbor's barn-making. May the Mother give you
strength to farm, Haruna! May the Mother grant you the light of
understanding!"

"_Sannu, sannu!_" Stoltzfoos responded. He stood at the door of his
tent, holding his lantern high to watch the Sarki and his servants ride
off into the darkness.

* * * * *

"_Er iss en groesie Fisch, nee?_" Martha asked.

"The biggest fish in these parts," Aaron agreed. "Did you understand our
talk?"

"The heathen speech is hard for me to learn, Stoltz," Mart