The old liar was now beating me at the lying game, but I did not care, since I was getting the best of it.
I did not let him suspect that I doubted his word.

He ordered the young men to restore my arms and reprimanded them for their conduct.

He was playing a crafty game, for he preferred to get the meat without fighting if possible, and my story that soldiers were coming had given him food for reflection.

After another council the old man asked me if I would go and bring the cattle down.

"Of course," I told him.