“Hm, a muzhik.  But where are we to fetch one from, if there is no muzhik here?”

“Why shouldn’t there be a muzhik here?  There are muzhiks everywhere.  All one has to do is hunt for them.  There certainly must be a muzhik hiding here somewhere so as to get out of working.”

This thought so cheered the Officials that they instantly jumped up to go in search of a muzhik.

For a long while they wandered about on the island without the desired result, until finally a concentrated smell of black bread and old sheep skin assailed their nostrils and guided them in the right direction.  There under a tree was a colossal muzhik lying fast asleep with his hands under his head.  It was clear that to escape his duty to work he had impudently withdrawn to this island.  The indignation of the Officials knew no bounds.

“What, lying asleep here you lazy-bones you!” they raged at him, “It is nothing to you that there are two Officials here who are fairly perishing of hunger.  Up, forward, march, work.”

The Muzhik rose and looked at the two severe gentlemen standing in front of him.  His first thought was to make his escape, but the Officials held him fast.

He had to submit to his fate.  He had to work.

First he climbed up on a tree and plucked several dozen of the finest apples for the Officials.  He kept a rotten one for himself.  Then he turned up the earth and dug out some potatoes.  Next he started a fire with two bits of wood that he rubbed against each other.  Out of his own hair he made a snare and caught partridges.  Over the fire, by this time burning brightly, he cooked so many kinds of food that the question arose in the Officials’ minds whether they shouldn’t give some to this idler.

Beholding the efforts of the Muzhik, they rejoiced in their hearts.  They had already forgotten how the day before they had nearly been perishing of hunger, and all they thought of now was:  “What a good thing it is to be an Official.  Nothing bad can ever happen to an Official.”

“Are you satisfied, gentlemen?” the lazy Muzhik asked.

“Yes, we appreciate your industry,” replied the Officials.

“Then you will permit me to rest a little?”

“Go take a little rest, but first make a good strong cord.”

The Muzhik gathered wild hemp stalks, laid them in water, beat them and broke them, and toward evening a good stout cord was ready.  The Officials took the cord and bound the Muzhik to a tree, so that he should not run away.  Then they laid themselves to sleep.

Thus day after day passed, and the Muzhik became so skilful that he could actually cook soup for the Officials in his bare hands.  The Officials had become round and well-fed and happy.  It rejoiced them that here they needn’t spend any money and that in the meanwhile their pensions were accumulating in St. Petersburg.

“What is your opinion, your Excellency,” one said to the other after breakfast one day, “is the Story of the Tower of Babel true?  Don’t you think it is simply an allegory?”