As soon as the servant caught sight of a stranger on the dam he instantly thought that here was some thieving tramp waiting to steal his boots. So he stopped a few steps from Khapun and said:
“You’d better not come any nearer, I warn you! I won’t give them up!”
“What’s the matter with you? Come to your senses, good man! Haven’t I boots of my own? Look, they are better than yours!”
“Then why have you planted yourself there by night, like a crooked willow tree by a pond?”
“Well, you see, I wanted to ask you a question.”
“Splendid! A riddle is it, eh? Who told you I could answer riddles better than any one else?”
“Ha, ha, I’ve heard people say so!”
The soldier set down his boots, took out his tobacco-pouch, and began filling his pipe. Then he struck a light with a flint, and, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke from under his nose, said:
“Now, then, spout it out. What’s your riddle?”
“It isn’t exactly a riddle. I wanted to ask you who you think is the best man in this neighbourhood?”