Talk to G David Schwarts on the Fictionville blog
Rama was simply startled and simply amazed to hear two of his goats carrying on a conversation in the middle of the field in the middle of the day. Rama was a simple man. Though he was not an educated man, he knew enough of his own language to identify the conversation as taking place in his own language, in his own field. Rama knew enough of his own language to express simple surprise and simple amazement in simple terms. Which he did.
Unbeknownst to him, the conversation he was listening to was taking place between two neighborhood children who were lazily in the downside slope of a grassy knoll, discussing what they would do if and when they graduated from school.
"I," announced the first child with great pomp and ceremony, for he was quite convinced he would graduate school and go on to do great things, "I shall go to England. Then I shall go to France. I shall learn many languages and practical skills, and return here to teach my oppressed brothers and sisters."
How wise a goat I have raised, thought Rama.
The second child said he was going to go to America, get a good paying job, work diligently, and forget all about this stupid country, these stupid people, and his stupid, stupid brothers and sisters.
What a selfish, arrogant goat I have raised, thought Rama.
Runi Duni, a noted criminal, was passing across the field at that particular time and saw Rama raise one hand with a joyous expression, and then raises the other with a gloomy look. Runi Duni watched the herder repeat his action a dozen times, and grew very, very anxious. He was not anxious because he was a famous criminal. Criminals in these parts were not what we, in our country, would call criminals. They were more like lawbreakers.
Runi Duni was finding it very difficult to ply his trade. That was why he was anxious. Everyone in town was aware of his trickery and deceit and avoided him. He did not mind the fact that no decent people wanted to be his friends, but he was very, very upset that they did not want to be his victims. He was finding it more and more difficult to make a living, which was ironic because he now felt more and more like he had to eat. But eating was as impossible without money in his country as it is in our own.
"Ho, friend," he interrupted, "What are you doing,"
"I am thinking about my goats, said Rama. "My one goat claims he will go to England and elsewhere to learn skills to bring back to the other goats. My second goat says he will go to America and become rich. I have one good goat and one wicked goat."
"The second goat has the smarter plan," Runi Duni said. He thought so simple a Sheppard an easy target, and was deep in thought about how he might compel Rama to give up some money. He had not clearly formulated a plan when he said, "Look here, friend. I will give you a clear example of skilled reasoning why I think the goat who wants to go to America has the better plan."
"Please do," said Rama.
Meanwhile, the lads who were hid beneath the grassy hill ran home for dinner. Runi Duni told Rama he would propose a riddle, and if Rama could answer the riddle correctly, the goat who wanted to go to England and return with skills would be proven right. If Rama could not answer the riddle, the goat who wanted to go to America would be proven correct.
Rama did not exactly understand the reasoning behind the wager, for a wager it was, for Runi Duni had added that whoever was proven correct should pay the other a goodly sum. Nevertheless, Rama thought there must be some city knowledge behind the wager, even though Runi Duni was careful not to say how much a 'goodly sum' was. Nor did it matter. Runi Duni intended to fluster Rama terribly, make him forget what he was thinking, and blubber forth a reply which had little to do with anything and nothing at all to do with the issue at hand.
"So, here's the riddle. You, being a farm boy, should know the answer to this one. If I were smarter, I would have picked a better riddle to test you with, but I know fewer riddles than I have intelligences. Anyway, what it the sum of twelve sheep if four sheep are taken away from the herd."
This was a terribly perplexing question for Rama, for he was a goat herder and knew next to nothing about sheep. Nor was he a chicken rancher, either, but he hatched a wonderful plan to help him win the bet. He decided he would ask his goats for the answer to the riddle. Which he did. He could not tell, however, whether the goats had answered "bleep," or "feighhh." To compound matters, the goats had apparently relapsed into a language he did not understand. On the other hand, the goats evidently agreed that Rama did not understand their answer, for they began discussing the issue between themselves. Rama might have stopped to wonder how wonderful his goats were, taking the question so seriously and debating back and forth for the appropriate answer, but Runi Duni was chattering in his ear.
"Don't think about childhood diseases from fours years old, or five or six. They are not part of the equation. And don't think about gallons of milk, not seven, or eight or nine, for they are irrelevant to the answer. And surely you need not think about the haze which hangs fourteen, twenty, seventy days around Mount Ma'ruta," and other chatter until Rama thought his wars and whatever connected them together could stand no more. Rama walked some distance from Runi Duni, who let him go, seeing that he would not settle the terribly difficult riddle even if he had complete and utter silence. The man, after all, talked to goats!
When night fell, for it was evening time, Rama had touched each of his fingers several times and experimented with a number of solutions to the riddle. Runi Duni had been looking for Rama and, finding him, begged the answer. Rama, however, had fallen fast asleep. Runi Duni looked at the exhausted herder and said, "Well, there's no money to be made here. That's for sure." But at least he had had a good meal while Rama was away from his goats. Furthermore, he was fairly certain he had eaten the wiser of the two.