t of the week to Sunday, nothing else was spoken about. The
people of our tribe pledged everything they possessed. The women gave
even their ear-rings. The Tartars were rich and proud and took every bet
that was offered. The match was to be on Sunday afternoon in front of
the inn. Ghitza was not in the village at all the whole week. He was in
Constantza, on the shores of the Black Sea, finishing some trade. When
he arrived home on Sunday morning he found the people of the village,
our people, the Tartars, and a hundred carriages that had brought people
from the surrounding villages camped in front of the inn. He jumped down
from his horse and looked about wondering from where and why so many
people at once! The men and the women were in their best clothes and the
horses all decorated as for a fair. The people gave him a rousing
welcome. Lupu called Ghitza aside and told him why the people had
gathered. Ghitza was taken aback but laughed instantly and slapped the
chief on the shoulders.

"It will be as you know, and the Tartars shall depart poor and
dishonoured, while we will remain the kings of the horse trade in the
Dobrudja honoured and beloved by all."

Oak that he was! Thus he spoke, and he had not even seen the other man,
the man he was to wrestle. He only knew he had to maintain the honour of
his tribe. At the appointed hour he came to the inn. The whole tribe was
about and around. He had stripped to the waist. He was good to look at.
On the ground were bundles of rich skins near rolls of cloth that our
men and women had bet against the Tartars. Heaps of gold, rings,
watches, ear-rings, and ducats were spread on the tables. Tartar horses
and oxen of our men and the people of the village were trooped
together, the necks tied to one long rope held on one side by one of our
men or a villager and at the other end by a Tartar boy. If Ghitza were
thrown, one of ours had just to let his end of the rope go and all
belonged to the other one. The smithy had pledged all he had, even his
daughter, to the winner; and many another daughter, too, was pledged.

Ghitza looked about and saw what was at stake: the wealth and honour of
his tribe and the wealth and honour of the village and the surrounding
villages.

Then the Tartar came. He was tall and square. His trunk rested on short,
stocky legs, and his face was black, ugly, and pock-marked. All shouting
ceased. The men formed a wide ring around the two wrestlers. It was so