I

            At noon we left the aul. The caravans of grey clouds went rapidly to the south but they were so light and airy that the sun freely waded through them and lit the ground with soft and tender light. But all the same the wind was cold and keen – it was blowing from the north and struck into the marrow. It came September.

            We were two in number.

            I sat on an undersized but frisky enough chestnut nag. To say the truth the saddle on it was worn, old – on such one bais usually come round their tabuns. I wore a quilted jacked made of camel wool, I had wangled it out of the host at that house where we had made an overnight stop, it was ragged and had holes under its arms and I was wickedly blown through. My companion was about forty years old. He had a dark freckled face, a thin beard and hard whiskers. And his eyes were black, round and smiling. And at all he looked like a sociable talkative person. He rode on a bay with yellowish markings, a gelt horse of five years old, on such jaded horses sheepmen shepherd their flocks of sheep. I had to ginger my nag all the time.

            We were riding. The wind was right behind us. We had ridden about fifteen miles off the aul and now around us there were summer pastures trampled down by herds. It was gloomily and gauntly. Only from time to time nearby the mires there flew up a pod of wild geese. Recently there stood some yourts, there appeared yellow bones among the ground stoves in the ravines and gullies, there lay different lumber and picked sheep corpses about. And on them there gathered crows and vultures…

            No matter how long we were riding but it seemed all the time as if we had not moved from the place and we all saw no end of summer dshailyau. One pass finished – followed the other one. I put my nag to the trot, and the ride became rather hard, but it warmed me up so much that I even perspired. Perhaps my companion was tired too pinching his lazy gelt horse. He took his heavy cap with three ear-flaps off the head and tied it to his belt. He moved his round cap-boryk to the back of his neck, sideswiped his gelt horse and got up to me.

-          You are steering left too much, - he said. – You’d better to keep to the sundown.

-          But you are getting behind all the time; I ride frontwards, that is why I turn left…

-          Yes! God damn this jade! I am done up with it! It jibs all the time… - And my companion lashed his gelt horse with his whip in a fit of anger.

-          We are already near, - he said, - there, do you see that large lake? It is called Kamysakty. We will pass it left-hander, through the barrow. We will pass it and at once get on the path in the hollow. There we will round the Shuga monument and go to the highway.

-          Really?

            My body ached because of unusual jolting and I was glad to prescind one way or the other. But I did not know my companion that is why I did not touch him up with talking. Besides I had a habit: on the way I listen more than spoke.

            Having said some more words about the road my companion went silent but I felt that he had what to tell me and that is why though I did not hope to hear anything interesting I asked him after all:

-          And what is it, the Shuga monument? Is it a mountain?

-          No, don’t say that!.. It is just a hill… - He gave his gelt horse a cut across the flanks and we got up to again. – And you, haven’t you heard anything about the Shuga monument?

-          No, I haven’t. Where from? I am at the first time in these parts of the world.

-          Really? Then, of course… You are young yet. How can you know? But at its time each stripling in the neighbourhood knew this story. Ye-es… Shuga, Shuga!..

-          Well, tell me please, - I asked, - both it will be jollier to ride and the way will seem shorter.

-          Well… Listen to.

            And having touched up his bay with yellowish markets once more he picked up the flapping tails of his fur coat, spat out the chewed up nasybai and got comfortable in the saddle.

-          Well, listen… It is not a simple story.

II

            …The aul what we are making our way out is called “Aul Yereke”. Further on along the river we will see some auls; there will be even many of them. They all are the offshoots of one clan; there are about two hundred families of them. They winter apart but in summer they usually gather for one dshailyau.

            In childhood they played alchiki on that hill… It was a sweet carefree time… Exactly here stood our auls during the fall season, here grassed the cattle. Now this lake is called the Shuga monument, but earlier they said just: “It happened there where the mottle bull had been cut”. It is a large lake. There are some gulfs around it… Then this land was rich and beautiful! There were enough people in our auls; moreover, shappas people came for the summering from the south, from Syr Darya’s seashore. It is such a clan – Shappas. Only in these latter days it stopped wandering. Listen to… I had a relative Berkimbai. Sometime ago he was rich, then he wished to become a volost’s disposer and, as a result, he ruined himself and whittled away all his cattle. And he became a kedey, it means a poor man. But his father had an uncle on the maternal side. So to speak he was the richest and noblest in Shappas clan. His name was Yesimbek. Basing himself upon Berkimbai he always took the best places on pasturages at the lake, “where the mottle bull had been cut”. People respected Yesimbek: he was generous, hearty and hospitable. And in general, God’s darling, a lucky man. He was rich for both cattle and children. Four sons, strong and gutsy like wolves. And among them one Shuga's daughter grew up knowing neither grief nor woe. A beauty! Light-faced, tender, slim with black eyes. As they say that one whom I would to eat! But she also carried herself in a strict way. She spoke sedately, with dignity, her pace was flowing like a peahen has, and in each her movement and gesture – nobility. Now you will not be able to find such one in the whole steppe. Now if you meet such one so make no mistake that she will skip and hop like a goat as if she does not know at all where to perch herself with her beauty. Eh… what to say… there came bad times… They contrived to teach women. Why? What for? The very Shuga cannot be told about that she was very literate but I would not change her for ten literate girls. And indeed what is the sense of learning if the God has not given you brain…

            Then I was just twenty years old. I often visited Yesimbek. My younger brother Bazarbai herded then his sheep. He was dexterous and artful. He died last year. And I also hung about with him in the bai’s aul day and night. I was spending there all the summer. I think then Shuga was about sixteen years old. Youngsters from the whole neighbourhood walked by shoals around her yourt. Someone of bravehearts even tried to speak to her. My brother brought her letters but everything was uselessly. Dzhigits were angry, took exception at her. They say, of course, she is a bai’s daughter, that is why she is conceited…

            In our aul there lived Karim, my age mate. He was a troublemaker and a good-for-nothing. He always thought out something to make people laugh. And he desired this bai’s daughter. One time we caught his letter. He scribbled there some kind of versets… How did he write there, I try to remember? Aha, there was the following:

            I have brought a belt from the market,

            Is it good or bad but it is my belt.

            I haven’t seen you for many long months,

            And now I am sick and tired of this tight belt¹.

 

            Well… the youth wants just to laugh and have fun. That is why they decided to play a trick: they wrote the answer as if Shuga replied him. When Karim read our letter, they say, he was about to grow up to the heaven. And we had written the following:

            Your ancient clan is noble; your treasury is rich,

            But it is not able to buy my soul.

            There will be no happier girl in the world,

            If they say that I have to become yours.

            Oh, allah, what a strange time it was… oiboy²! What a strange!

            Shuga’s parents had one trump card. Nowadays’ bais no sooner than a daughter is born they take bride-money for her in advance…, but Shuga was not affianced. Many bai’s sons asked her in marriage but she refused everybody. They came even from far away places from where it was impossible to ride on a horse. Everything was in vain. People started speaking in auls: “Yesimbek has deprived his daughter of happiness. She is an old maid. He will not be able now to find a good bachelor”. But these all are trifles. It’s all in God’s hands: what must be, will be…

            Only later we knew why Yesimbek had refused all matchmakers. It turned out that when he was young he and his friend Kali had vowed that if one would have a daughter and the second one – a son, so they would become relatives. That’s show business. Here he was for whom Yesimbed was keeping his only daughter Shuga! Ye-e-es…

            We dismounted our horses at the lake Kamysakty, left them, had a rest ourselves and then after girthing went on our ride and my companion continued his interrupted story.

            ¹ Translation by B. Antonov

                ² Exclamation of delight or surprise

III

            Yes, I say, those were good times! The ground was generous, the pasturages were rich, and there were a lot of cattle. Usually by the end of May someone having finished with sowing already went to dshailyau. I remember that year we moved for summering on the twentieth of May, the youth, we had fun day and night and just waited for when Shappas people would wander to us. Only one thing in thoughts: “When will Yesimbek come at last?.. When will we eat meat to our hearts’ desire?..” Once I returned by the morning, I was about to fall asleep when my mother awoke me and said:

-          Shappas people have wandered to, they are settling their yourts. I have already run, seen and embraced my Bazarbai…

            Of course, I ran out from the yourt at once. The sun was already hot. The right bank of the lake was black of cattle… sheep, horses, camels, and there were light accurate yourts everywhere. Shappas people had come. In hurry I rubbed my eyes and ran to the aul. It turned out that everybody had already gathered there. The kettles were already boiling. It was crowded and noisy in the main large Yesimbek’s yourt. The guests were drinking kumis, making noise and having fun. I went round all yourts. In one I met Shuga at last. Apyrmai!¹ I couldn’t take my eyes off! Temper, white like a swan, exactly like a swan! She wore a white silk dress, a red plush camisole over it coloured with fanciful clasps, on the head – a sumptuous fox cap with owl feathers. Rich attire! And it fitted her so much! She was so beautiful in it!

-          It seems that you have not hurried to meet us very much, - she said me laughing.

            I did not know what to answer. Earlier it was easy for me to talk to her and now I stood as if my tongue failed me.

            ¹Exclamation that expresses surprise, bewilderment or indignation.

-          And who is there dismounting the horses? – Shuga asked suddenly.

            I turned back. Two young dzhigits having dismounted were tying their horses. One of them was dressed like a town dweller, as Russian people usually dress. I recognized him.

            - It is Abdrahman! – I said.

            - And who is he? – She asked.

            - Kazakhbai’s son.

            - Ah… that one who is a teacher, yes?

            - Yes, it is him.

            - He seems too young yet, - Shuga noticed and went into the yourt.

              I came up to Abdrahman, greeted him and led him to Yesimbek. But I noticed that Shuga was looking at us through the slits of the yourt.

IV

            Of course, you do not know about this… - My companion went on gingering habitually his gelt horse. – You could not know. Abdrahman was our distant relative and we were almost age mates. In his childhood he herded the volost’s disposer’s calves. And then the aul teacher lived in the house of the volost’s disposer. And during four years the herdboy griped brokenly by halves everything what the others were taught at school. Abdrahman himself told me: “In the afternoon I herded lambs and calves and in the evening the teacher taught me sometimes up to deep night. He was a kind man. A real Mussulman! He said not for one time that it was more pleasant for him to teach a herdboy than bais’ children. Thanks to him I managed to finish school. I owe to the teacher for all my life…”

            And his father was the poorest one from the poor men that is why even after finishing the aul school Abdrahman went on working as a farmhand. But when he was thirteen he finally decided to run away out of bai’s house to the governorate town, in summer he worked as a farmhand and in winter he learned. In such a way he scratched along for two years and during summer vocations he himself could already teach bais’ children and with the help of this he earned his living. And he gained end, became a literate person.

            He became famous in the whole neighbourhood. I think he might have been very talented. Teachers praised him too. The governorate nachandyk¹ offered him to be the main interpreter-translator, but Abdrahman did not allow himself to do this and returned to his native aul. Just at that time the clerk of volost’s directorate gave his soul to allah and Abdrahman could take his place but he went to the volost Shamantyk to become there a teacher. There and then in winter he taught but on holiday he came to our place, to his father’s house.

            That year he came to dshailyau at the beginning of June. I had not seen him long and he said as soon as he saw me: “Well, let’s embrace! So much time we have not seen each other!” In such a way we joshing came into the yourt. Aksakal Hadgibai sat on the place of honour; he spoke fluently as if he was reading a book. Having noticed us he went immediately silent.

            Abdrahman greeted everybody by hand. Perhaps Bai Yesimbek did not like this, at once he bridled up and the conversation was interrupted. Then they started speaking – with mockery and sarcasm to the address of “scientists”. I was struck; I did not just understand what was up. Only then Abdrahman explained me what and how. It turned out that after the autumn sheepshearing Yesimbek had wanted, as he did every year, to change felt into bread and take that bread at the grassroots. That is why Abdrahman meddled the affairs – he advised nothing to do blindly: at first to learn the price and only then to change and sell. And those who had listened to Abdrahman really gained. They bought felt half-price. That is why Yesimbek harboured enmity against the teacher. “He has picked my pocket”, - the bai said. And now starting a conversation with Abdrahman he asked:

            ¹Corrupted – a boss.

-          Well, benefactor, how well has the aul overwintered with your help?

-          Well enough, we have overwintered, - the teacher answered some coldly.

-          It is well. That’s what befits a true protector and patron of his own clan… - Yesimbek smiled askew.

            People broke up after the noon having eaten meat to their hearts’ desire.

 

V

            When I went home Abdrahman was still sitting at Yesimbek’s. However, as it turned out then, he came away at once after me to Berkimbai’s yourt. After the drunk kumis I fell asleep and came to life only after the sundown. I came out from the yourt. Men gathered on the hill behind the aul, aksakal Hadshibai was sitting in the middle.

            They spoke about Abdrahman. Already from afar I heard the old man’s words: “I see, this Abdrahman is absolutely out of mind.” Aksakal Hadgibai could speak. I came up and began listening to.

-          Such persons like he must not be considered as Mussulmen, - aksakal said teaching. – All of them do not trust in god that is why their speeches are profane. They are on fighting terms with mullahs, hazrets and pious fathers of the nation. They do not trust in Allah. They just embarrass trustful people, they say that it is not Allah who makes bais rich but these are we ourselves with the help of labour. Just think what he has thought out! And I have heard that he has sold himself out to those who want to christen Kazakhs. And he did not agree to become a nachandyk’s interpreter or a clerk of the volost’s disposer, but he started teaching children, because he wishes to lead astray true Mussulmen and carry them off the prophet!

            However hard aksakal Hadgibai may have tried but to my mind nobody believed him. He was speaking and the dzhigits were sitting, joking and laughing.

-          Do you know why Yesimbek has wandered here? In spite on the fact, that then he wanted to herd cattle in Karakumy. It turns out this all is because of our Karim, - one dzhigit started.

-          And have you noticed how Shuga flashed up when she saw him? – The other continued.

            The third one composed a verset at once having said that missing Shuga Karim had written it in winter:

            I am riding and my chestnut frightens a fox away sometimes…

            I am not thinking and guessing that I have to part with you, beloved.

            Everybody laughed in one accord. Karim was angry and went away. I went to Berkimbai. Abdrahman having propped himself upon his elbow, was playing dombra.

-          Come in… Sit down, - he said.

            We talked of this and that, joked a little and then somehow of our own accord we started to speak about Shuga and I asked:

-          Well, have you liked Shuga?

-          I have not even seen her yet, - he replied.

-          How can it be? – I surprised. – She was standing at the entrance of the yourt when you were tying your horse…

-          Could I see her? What could I discern from afar? It would be the other thing if I had a talk with her.

-          But today we have altybakan¹. Come and you will talk to.

-          Really? – Abdrahman brightened at once.

-          Well, Yesimbek’s daughters-in-law have said me about this. – I confessed.

-          Look, be a friend of mine… Could you accompany me, ah? As for me so I am at the first time…

            I could not refuse my fellow’s please. I promised that I would go with him to visit games.

            ¹Games at swings at a moon night.

-          It is no sense me to conceal from you. – My companion said. – You are young yourself. You have to understand. Youth is crazy time. Ye-es… All in its own good time…

            Already three of Yesimbek’s sons got married. His youngest daughter-in-law, Zeikul, was a Karshai’s daughter from Tam’s clan. She was jolly, sociable and good-looking, she had success among dzhigits. She was wise enough although she was some flippant. Her husband, Ibrai, was the quietest and the most appeasable one among Yesimbek’s sons. All days long he obediently herded his father’s flocks and did not almost communicate with people. When Zeikul was still a girl she got the hang of her intended: she loved not him but Seid from the neighbour aul, she even was going to run away to him but there appeared gossip in the aul and everything went off. Volost’s disposer Kurman was Yesimbek’s matchmaker, and Zeikul’s father knew very well that if his daughter ran away with Seid, Yesimbek would revenge and the volost’s disposer would stand up for him. It is too difficult to fight with rich and strong people. And the scared father hurried to marry his obstinate daughter to Yesimbek’s son. Poor Zeikul did not want long to make up her mind to her fate. Soon she was absolutely sick of Ibrai, however how much could a married woman do in the aul? I do not know why but nowadays there are no more temerarious dzhigits who can risk with everything for the sake of beloved one. And poor Zeikul has not finally found her hero.

            I will not conceal from you… I have already said that all the time I hung about in Yesimbek’s aul and I became an insider among them. I behaved decently and politely. In short soon I came together with Zeikul. Then I was a bachelor. She said: “I wish to marry to you”. I answered: “I will marry you”. That was the whole conversation. In such a way we played beloved ones until we understood that a game was just a game but nobody of us would lay his or her head under the axe for the sake of that game.

            Yesimbek was a rich man, I am a poor man. If I stole his daughter-in-law the next day there would not be left a flack of my dust. Poorness, dad-blamed poorness! Zeikul was artful and had a sharp tongue. Sometimes she sang teething me:

            Kasymshan, was not it you who had sworn me, dear?

            Is not it I who follow the same way with you?

            Will you really be able to part with me?    

            No, at any price Zeikul will not leave you.

            I cannot write rhymes, that is why I asked Tukai, an aul inhabitant, to think out a verset as it were me.

            Zeikul, wonderful bloom of your beauty

            I’d like to describe it but I have no needed words…

            I am beating my head against the wall, -

            But I feel just stupid hopelessness in return.

            That was all. It was the end of our love!..

VII

            We had dinner with Abdrahman and went to visit games. At that time the aul already prepared to sleep. It was dark as in a grave. From the side of Yesimbek’s aul there were heard hollow voices and laugh. We were going side by side not hurrying; suddenly Abdrahman ran frontwards and overstripped me. There heard a noise of fuss and girls’ laugh. And suddenly we heard hot whisper. I got my fingers into Abdrahman’s shoulder and we both froze. Two figures passed us.

-          Don’t do it, darling… Don’t fool with… - She said.

-          Oh, the apple of my eye, - he answered beseeching.

-          What would you like?

-          Will you do the thing that I am asking for?

            The girl laughed quietly and shy.

            I recognized at one who this was – Ainabai’s daughter. She was from Kerei’s clan and her aul – about ten families or so – was situated between Yesimbek’s and our aul. When we were passing the aul we heard their voices. It meant that their girls also visited our games.

            - Kulzipa is going, - I whispered laughing.

            Abdrahman shivered just having heard the name. He had a special cause for this.

            Although the aul of kerei’s clan was small and Ainabai was a poor man everybody feared him. He constantly stirred up rebellion, gossiped and at all he was able for any meanness – that is why people called him: “Red-eyed disaster”. He truly looked unprepossessingly: gray-faced, gloomy, with large eyebrows and always beetle browed. His daughter – she was seventeen – was affianced long ago and bride-money was already eaten away. But for some time past Ainabai became stronger, set up his house and began looking for a more advantageous and statelier bachelor for his daughter. And then the stateliest dzhygit was, of course, Abdrahman. It was exactly he whom Ainabai aimed at. “I would pity the poor fellow, would give him my daughter if he gave me at least several heads of cattle…” – the old rogue said. When Abdrahman came to Yesimbek aul the callets with long tongues named him “our son-in-law”. And in general, it was all considered opinion that the teacher would marry Kulzipe. Last winter Abdrahman’s father came to Ainabai to buy some hay and Ainabai’s wife put into the kettle without cutting two circuses of kaza – calipee of horse fat - when she was treating him. In such a way people usually treat only the dearest guests. And seeing the guest off Ainabai’s wife presented him a cartful of hay. Feeling highly honoured because of this all Abdrahman’s father did not have anything against to become relatives with Ainabai at all. But Kulzipa was not absolutely to Abdrahman’s taste. “How can I marry her if she disgusts me?” – He answered in return for all jokes and congratulations. But only close friends – the age mates of the teacher – knew about this. As for Kulzipa so by a fortuitous meeting she became shy and red, flashed up and did not know where to hide her eyes.

            And now having heard that she was nearby Abdrahman tried to disappear unnoticeable but I wished to play a trick and I stopped him.

            The girls talking lively and carelessly suddenly ran in the dark against us and were all abroad.

-          Oibai, these are people!.. But we have thought that it is cattle, - one of them changed her mind.

            And they flashed aside.

-          Is it you, Marshanbike? Well, come up here, - I said gladly.

-          Oh, who is this? He knows my name…

-          Come here and you will know who he is, - Kulzipa ordered her shenge¹. Abdrahman went frontwards and I waited for the girls.

-          Who was with you? – They wanted to know at once.

-          Abdrahman was.

-          Is it our son-in-law? Why has he run away? – Marshanbike started laughing.

            Kulzipa flashed and began rounding something in the ear of her shenge and the both started laughing loudly. We caught up Abdrahman but he hardly noticed us because all the time he was peering at that side where the youth was playing.

            We came up to the swing. Now we could clearly hear laugh, cries and it was even possible to descent separate voices. Two girls who were swagging on the swing began singing a drawling song. In such a way they greeted us.

-          Shuga is singing, - Marshanbike noticed.

            Yes, it was the truth, Shuga was singing. And she was singing well, full of life but the song was sad. “Since the birth we, girls, are unhappy, - Shuga sang. – There is nobody unhappier than we are in the world. And this all is because our parents are in thrall to ancient customs”.

            ¹Daughter-in-law

VIII

            Yes, everything that happens in youth is wonderful. I have born this night in my mind for all my life. Up to now everything that happened at that night stands before my eyes. The games just started. Shuga and her friend got off the swing. There appeared questions, jokes and laugh. A dombra was brought for Abdrahman and he started singing.

            Oh, what a good dzhigit he was! And during the games he absolutely changed and became a truly handsome man. At that night he was especially at his best. He sang, played dombra and all were listening to him with bated breath. Even some old women did not withstand, covered their shoulders with chapans and came to listen to a young singer. In such a way singing and playing we did not notice how the day was breaking. We had to trickle away. Marshanbike turned sometime nearby me and asked whispering:

-          Won’t you go home yet?

            And she went slowly leading Kulzipa after her. Children and teenagers followed them. Only we stayed there: me, Abdrahman, Shuga and her shenge – Zeikul. I led Zeikul aside and said her that Abdrahman fell madly in love with Shuga.

-          I don’t know, - Zeikul answered, - he is, of course, a dzhigit, a polite stately man, she might like this. And now… you know yourself, she has refused even better ones. There were better handsome men… - And Zeikul started laughing.

-          Shenesh, let’s go home, - Shuga called her.

-          Why are you hurrying so much? – Abdrahman asked, came up to her and they began speaking about something in a low voice.

            We were standing aside and I could hear only his words: “young heart”. And suddenly we heard how he said:

-          Good bye…

            I turned round. Shuga was going in hurry sideward the aul.

            - You are my minx! Why are you leaving me? – Zeikul shouted and ran after her.

IX

            On way home Abdrahman was gloomy.

-          My poorness is guilty in everything, - he said me. – If I were a bai’s son Shuga would answer me in some different way.

            It turned out that half-joking, half-seriously he had alluded Shuga about his feelings but she affected as if she had understood nothing. Of course, he was upset in vain. It is no good to require an immediate answer from a girl, especially from Shuga.

            Next morning he called me and pulled out of his pocket a sheet folded into four.

-          It is my letter to Shaga, - he said. – If she agrees I will hurry her off by stealth. Otherwise they will not marry her to me. I do not have any bride-money. I do not know clearly what she will reply on this…

            Abdrahman had a very depressed look. The letter was written in verses. I remember several lines from it.

            The moon’s so coldly gleaming in the sky.

-          But with flame it fills my soul.

            And in spite on I have a thousandth part

            The moon is not able to cure my soul.

            But I’ll damp my pain – I am strong enough!

            For the first time my tune is poisoned by grief,

            I’ve never grieved in my songs up to now.

            I’m taken captive by you since the first our meetings.

            By your sweet speeches my wishes are lit.

            And if you suddenly wrote “I agree”

            I would keep this letter like a relic.

But how could I give in the letter Shuge?

            There helped an incident. At noon returning from the pasturage my brother Bazarbai peeped into the aul. We thrust him the letter and ordered to give it in Shuga and immediately bring the answer here if she wrote something in reply.

            I vividly remember: there was a small glade behind our yourt. Guests who visited the aul left there their horses and that is why the grass was crushed down pretty well there. Right there lay some sheep having huddled tightly up to each other. In such a way they pulled through heat and gadflies. They were shorn right here too.

            I went to look for Abdrahman. He was lying prone in a sunny spot in the middle of the glade not far from the flock, thoughtful and estranged from everything.

            - Oh, old fellow, why have you chosen such a place? – I was surprised.

            - What can I do?.. I cannot sit at home.

            He was absent-minded and looking impatiently and with some trouble into the distance. The clear thing: he was waiting for Bazarbai.

            I wondered myself would Shuga answer or not, according to her habit she could tear the letter without reading – Abdrahman was afraid exactly of this. At first he hesitated at all: to write or not? But I reported Zeikul’s words to him; and when she saw me off she whispered to me: “He must write her. He is a noticeable man. Perhaps Shuga will relent.” Besides one time she said the following: “The name of your friend does not come off from the lips of my minx”. Women usually trust their hearty secrets to each other. Besides Shuga loved and respected her shenge and, of course, she trusted her everything. Moreover: I hoped for Zeikul because I knew: for my sake she will try to do everything.

            Abdrahman kept silent. The sun was high, right over the head. In such a heat people usually hide heads in a shadow but we, as ill luck would have it, were lying right in a sunny spot.

-          Shuga will say something… - I dropped.

-          Who knows her, - Abdrahman sighed. I saw a grief and a hope in his eyes.

            We were about to go home when we saw Bazarbai. He ran to us. Abdrahman was excited so much that he hopped at once. We both eyed keenly to the face of our runner.

            And he grinning from ear to ear ran up to Abdrahman and pulled a sheet of paper from out his boot-top. His hands were even shivering when he unfolded it. “Our salem to the respectable myrza Abdrahman, - Shuga had written. – I am informing you about the fact that I have got your letter. Now I cannot answer you anything that I can put my fingers on. I am sorry. Shuga has written this”.

            Abdrahman grew dark and dropped down on the grass. I started to ask Bazarbai in what a way he had given Shuga in the letter. Where? What had she said?

-          She was sitting in the father’s yourt. I said that shenge called her and when she came out I thrust her your letter. “What have you brought, hobgoblin?” – Shuga asked. – “You will know it if you read”, - I answered. She read the letter, hid it into her pocket, smiled and came into the yourt to her shenge. I followed her. “Let me alone, hobgoblin! Why have you hammered at me? You are carrying and carrying these letters all the time”, - she mumbled but she smiled at the same time. Earlier when I carried the letters from other youngsters she became angry and tore them at once. But when I saw that she was not angry I said her: “Allah, write an answer and I will carry it at once. Nobody will notice…” Well, she wrote it…

            The boy was shining, he was proud because he had fulfilled so well such a difficult order and was grinning from ear to ear.

            And in spite on the fact that Shuga said neither “yes” nor “no” in her reply after my brother’s story it became more clearly for me that she had some feeling for Abdrahman.

-          The girl will be yours, - I said with certainty. And Abdrahman brightened.

            And soon after this they openly made a declaration of love to each other. And their love turned out such strong that if they did not see each other even for one day long they suffered from grief very much. They both did not hide from me. When I visited Yesimbek’s aul to drink some kumis Shuga was lighting with pleasure. Just having an opportunity when we stayed face to face she constantly asked:

-          Where is he, your fellow?

            But it is improperly to stay long in one aul. Abdrahman went to his father’s for ten days and at that time Shuga felt antsy.

-          Well, why does not he come? – She asked me. – Is he healthy?.. Do you know anything, ah?

            Soon people began speaking about Shuga and Abdrahman in the auls. But to say the truth nobody abused them very much, besides there was nothing shameful in their relations yet. The first one who had raised hell was always foolish troublemaker Ainabai. There appeared gossip that Kulzipa blubbered having learnt about everything. Ainabai informed in anger Yesimbek that Shuga was going to run away with that poor Abdrahman and in such a case deep disgrace would fall on his head.

            There rose a scandal in Yesimbek’s family. Bazarbai was thrown away. They say: “A beagle has bitten a crane’s head off”. Respectable old men – aksakals – said the teacher: “From ancient time our auls are friends. Why do you embroil the people? It is not good. Come to reason, back down”.

            And Abdrahman answered: “If Shuga does not keep her word I will refuse. I am ready for everything for her sake”. Then old men beshrewed the teacher with one accord. “Is it possible to wait for something good from a godless man who has betrayed his fathers’ faith and learnt at Russian school?” – They said. He lived in our yourt then, and old men also abused me, they say why I welcome this disobedient who does not respect the fathers’ laws. And when Yesimbek’s horse got lost then I was denounced for theft and they made me give the bai my cow with a calf. It was hurtfully for me but I could do nothing, it was the decision of plurality, and you could do nothing against the world. People viewed at us in a dim light. At nights I and Abdrahman were lain in wait of trap by Yesimbek’s sons with several squabblers. If we got by chance into their hands they would kill us.

            More rarely and rarely the beloveds managed to meet. And missing Shuga Abdrahman composed the following verses:

            I believe that you are born for me,

            Day by day I love you more and more…

            To hear your declarations and oaths,

            By my way, Shugashan, I heated my horse.

            But your friendly clan is hostile now.

            Enemies are constantly following us,

            They want to part us and doom for heartache…

XI

            Perhaps Ainabai was not satisfied with the fact that he had set Yesimbek against us, moreover he tried to dishonour Abdrahman in the authorities’ eyes. When I heard the gossip as if Ainabai had informed the volost’s dispose that Abdrahman gathered underhand money for Turkmen I was really afraid. However this gossip did not alarm Abdrahman at all. As before he lived at our place and, to my mind, day and night he was thinking only about one thing: how to meet with Shuga.

            Bazarbai did not live in our aul any more. I also could not manage anyhow to meet with my Zeikul. Oh, there came hard times!..

            One time in the evening we were sitting on a hump behind the aul. Of course, we were looking at the side of Yesimbek’s yourts.

            Yesimbek’s yourt towered in the very centre of the aul. If anybody appeared at it, it always seemed to Abdrahman that it was Shuga. We both were sitting, keeping silent and missing. He was missing Shuga, I – Zeikul… Soon cows started returning from the pasturage. At Shappas people’s yourts there gloomily stood camels. Noise and hubbub floated over the steppe. Sheep bleated, cows mooed, and heifers nickered. Colts were running gamboling and raising blue-grey dust. We were looking gloomy at this habitual fuss of an eveningish aul. But all our thoughts were about the other.

-          Today I have finally got a message from Shuga, - Abdrahman said suddenly.

-          What has she written? – I brightened.

-          She has written that she is missing, is worn by at all. The family is against. My head is spinning. What can we think out? Where is the way out? That is the thing that she has written about. I have answered her. I have written we must run away. We do not have any other way out. But how to give her in the letter? If only she agreed I would take her away in trice…

            While we were speaking on the road between the auls where now some tabuns were going round there suddenly appeared a tarantas. The horses were running frisky; the air was full of dust. Behind them awkwardly hopping in the saddle there rode a horseman. The riders hurried. I was caught by a bad presentiment – one of the men sitting in the tarantas looked like a Russian man.

-          We’d better to go to the yourt, - I proposed.

            Abdrahman started laughing.

-          Everything scares you…

            The tarantas drove recklessly up to our yourt. A young dzhigit – coachman – sat in front and behind him there were two more people. It turned out that one of them was really Russian.

-          What a god’s punishment it is! – A cry broke from my lips.

            Abdrahman also changed in the face. We hurried to the yourt. The Russian man jumped off the running board and moved towards us.

-          Who is Abdrahman here?

-          I am, - the teacher answered.

-          Come on, dress. We will go to the volost!

            It was a guardian. On his side there hung a sabre, on his peaked cap there sparkled a cockade.

-          And what for? – Abdrahman asked.

-          I must not know. The police officer has ordered.

            What to do? It was unreasonable to contradict the authorities. In hurry I harnessed the horse and decided to bring Abdrahman by myself. When I was harnessing all the aul gathered at us from eighty-year-old old men to an eight-year-old kid. Some people felt with us, others took unholy joy. My mother sobbed, and the others contrariwise grinned satisfied – ah, he has finally got his come-uppance! He has come into own! And what has he finally got? Abdrahman was my friend and – Allah is a witness – I know that he has never carried anybody out any atrocity. But is it possible to argue anything to bais’ henchmen?

 

XII

            When we left the aul the sun was already going down. We went in the road cart harnessed with a pair of horses. I led the horses. The road went through Yesimbek’s aul. The horses were trotting out. Abdrahman was tensely peeping frontwards he still had a hope to see Shuga. It was left about fifty fathoms to Yesimbek’s yourt, but Shuga did not appear and he was caught with grief at all. Parting – it is a grief for beloved ones.

            And the horses took run, the road was flat and they wrested reigns. Just a while and we were about to pass the aul. I restrained the horses with all my might. Because who knows… it can happen that no more in his life the dzhigit will see his beloved. And even if he sees her so, perhaps, it will be long before it happens. I do not know why but it seemed to me at that minute… We both were keeping silent because we realized very well what was happening in the souls of each of us… Yesimbek’s severe dogs that erstwhile did not let us come up near to the aul at night, now they baring their tushes jumped towards us. There sat a crowd at the entrance of the yourt and all looked at us with curiosity. Perhaps our arrival interrupted their conversation… The wife of Shuga’s elder brother having tied the colt with a noose to a black smoked though yourt milked a camel. Between the main yourt and the otau – a yourt for newly married – there walked the eldest wife-baibishe in a portentous manner. It seemed to me that they had known about the forthcoming arrest of Abdrahman.

            But Shuga was nowhere to be seen.

            Abdrahman darkened and cried sharply:

-          Let’s go!

            Only now I noticed that the horses were already pacing. I let down the reigns and the horses made a spurt. And only then there appeared two women from the side of the well that was situated behind the aul. Zeikul and Shuga! Apyrmai, I was so glad having seen them. Tears welled out from the eyes! They also recognized us and froze up struck and confused. Zeikul, I vividly remember, had a yoke on her shoulder with two buckets of water. Shuga was empty-handed and stood nearby. Abdrahman jumped off from the cart and ran to her. I expected that he would embrace Shuga, fold to his breast and kiss. But he did not do this. Perhaps he scrupled the people who were standing at Yesimbek’s yourt. But in vain!..

-          Where are you going? – Shuga asked frightenedly.

-          I am being brought to the volost, - Abdrahman answered.

            Shuga’s eyes glanced. And I was also about to cry. Zeikul turned quickly round – she was afraid very much – and she shouted having tucked in the yoke:

-          Oibai, my minx, let’s go, let’s go!.. You see: people are running from the aul!

            But it seemed that Abdrahman and Shuga froze up… And behind us there were already heard cries, noise, abuse and tramp. In front having half got up on the tarantas the angry guardian shouted at us.

-          Goodbye!

            Shaking Abdrahman came up to the cart and got in. Tears ran over his face. I lashed the horse.

-          Oh! Goodbye, my beloved, my dear… - Shuga screeched after him and strengthlessly dropped down on the ground.  

XIII

            The volost’s police officer brought Abdrahman to the province. We parted in tears. I came back home with a notice for Shuga. There passed six days and I could not manage anyhow to give it in her.

            It turned out that Yesimbek was very angry when he learnt that his daughter had seen off Abdrahman in full public view. The brothers were fierce too. Perhaps poor Shuga caught it! She was impressed by this all so much that she did not go out anywhere and even stopped eating. Sometime later there appeared gossip in the auls: melancholy ruined Shuga. She was melting in plain view and kept her bed. In spite on the fact that our auls were nearby, however, I could not visit Yesimbek as before.

            Time passed but Shuga wasn’t better. Understanding that his daughter was seriously ill Yesimbek unbent. They called for doctors, healers-shamans, but they couldn’t do anything too. Shuga was delirious and called unconsciously Abdrahman.

            The main wife-baibishe worried watching how her only and favourite daughter-minx was pining and she had persuaded the family to save Shuga from unavoidable death. And the only thing could save Shuga: to secure an acquittal of the teacher by the whole aul, marry Shuga to him and celebrate a wedding. And at last Yesimbek agreed. He did it, of course, unwittingly and reluctantly. Having advised with the relatives and aul inhabitants he decided to persuade the volost’s disposer to free Abdrahman.

            As to me he also tempered justice with mercy. It seemed that it became easier to breathe in the both auls. One time a man who looked after Yesimbek’s camels came to my place and said that Shuga wished to see me. I hopped with joy and ran to her. She was lying in a big yourt. The edge of her felt was raised a little. She looked at me and sobbed. Her mother ran to her, began consoling her, wiping tears, kissing and beseeching:

-          Calm down, my child… Have I suffered not enough because of you? What can I do? If it were my will I would not drive you to such despair…

-          Ashe, - suddenly Shuga called lowly.

-          What, my darling? – The mother replied.

-          Leave me alone face to face with him…

-          Well, the apple of my eye, now, now.

            Baibishe came out in hurry, I sat up to Shuga:

-          Well, how are you? Aren’t you better?

-          No, I am not better, - she answered sadly and her eyes filled with tears again. – I myself don’t want me to become better. You … remember me… to hi… him… - Because of tears she was difficult to speak, she pulled a kerchief from under the pillow and wiped her tears. – You will see him… if he is alive… but me… I… - She could not go on speaking.

-          All is in God’s hands, - I answered. – But you speak so in vain… You have a good look, you will recover soon.

-          No… What for? All the same I will not be happy. My father has just pitied me. He realizes how bad I am. He was afraid. But tomorrow if I recover he will do the same. I don’t fear death. I feel sorry only for one thing… that Abdrahman has not said me some kind words at parting. I wish to see him before my death!.. I wish that he would suddenly appear nearby, press his face to mine and say: “My Shuga!”, I would happily die…

            She sighed heavily.

            Till the evening I was sitting at her bad and went home low-spirited and dejected. And at home happy news was waiting for me, they say Abdrahman turned back home today. I just could not wait to bring him to Shuga as sooner as it was possible and I rode to Abdrahman’s aul at once. Everybody was happy there too; the teacher had really just come from the province and asked about Shuga at once. He was already informed about the fact that she was ill. I calmed him down as much I could and said that she was recovering. And he believed me.

            In the morning as soon as the horses were driven from the pasturage we set off to our aul. The horses were trotting. The day was hot. All the way Abdrahman was laughing, joking and made me laugh. He said that when he had been brought to the province he had composed a song about Shuga. And he started singing:

            Kindness I see in my Shuga’s eyes,

            Each word of the song is more sonorous

            Me, seeing off, she has not embraced,

            Tears just poured from her eyes more and more.

            Approaching to the aul already from afar we saw a crowd of people at Berkimbai’s yourt. Having tied our horses I led Abdrahman to the yourt but by myself I went to learn what was going on. At this time a rider rode up to the crowd, cried something and went on riding. I did not hear what he had cried, and I do not know why but my heart was wrung…

            And when I came up to the crowd I heard:

-          Be Allah with her…

            Everybody piously passed their palms over the faces. I froze and looked at Aibai.

-          Have you heard? – He said. – Shuga has died.

            I stood as if somebody had poured a bucket of icy water over me. I was stuck on the place. All people around shook their heads.

            - Ah, Shuga, Shuga!.. Poor Shuga!.. She is so young.

            Then the crowd moved to our yourt to bring us sorrowful news. He did not start crying, he just grew pale very much. People began calming him down. He kept silent…

            In the whole crowd we went to Yesimbek’s aul.

            There heard sobbing from the bai’s yourt. Having noticed us Yesimbek’s daughters-in-law came out. Their eyes were red and swollen. Zeikul gave us a sign, took me aside and got a sheet of paper out from her pocket. I guessed that it was the last Shuga’s letter.

            Before her death Shuga wrote the following:

            Having a beauty I was not happy,

            Only grief it has brought for you!

            But I was dreaming about our happiness,

            I had a fond belief: we have one fortune.

            I wished only you owned me,

            Oh, severe world! You have broken the dreams.

            I leave this mortal life alone

            Without seeing features of the dear face.

            I wish this last letter

            Just would remember you about poor Shuga.

            When Abdrahman was reading this letter his tears dropped on the paper and several times he interrupted the reading.

            Yesimbek graved Shuga in his native land, in the old family burying-place and wandered in hurry to the south. In one year when Shappas people wandered here again he arranged a great death feast.

            Exactly then they made this burial mound.

            …Telling the story my companion was taken with this so much that he forgot about his gelt horse that was already niggling along. Having suddenly recollected he lashed it for two times or so with his whip and rode up to me again. Soon we rode out on the top of the pass and in front of us there opened a large lake in all its beauty. To the west of it there was hidden a small hill in darkness.

            - There, - my companion said. – It is the very burial mound. It is our Shuga monument. Ah, Shuga, Shuga!..