PART ONE

1.

            The meeting in collective farm “Amangeldy” ran over long time. Even old man Mamet who was a collective farm watchman and preferred to keep his mouth shut in public had his own say on. And babbler Beysen had had twice a chance to take the floor. The dispute divided the people. Ones were for Shackyp, others – for Shomart.

            Sh o m a r t. Our Shackyp doesn’t have enough open mind. He is a drag on us because of his bighead. Big wishes demand great actions. Keep it up, comrades, never look back! A long way can be measured only by large steps and as for us so we have to go ahead still a long way, comrades.

            Sh a k y p. Where are you raring to? Don’t you see, a downfall is before you…

            B e y s e n (to Shomart). First you’d better to mount those passes which backs Shackyp has already broken of!

            The meeting went stormily by but Shackyp-otagasy, the chairman, didn’t hurry to put the question to voting.

-          Talk to your hearts’ desire, - he said, and it was not clear what resounded in his voice – mockery or favouring.

            As if he retired into himself. He was sitting having dropped habitually his eyes and it seemed that the same cold bloodedly he was listening to both his opponents and those ones who contributed him, just his lean dark-visaged face grew red and brown.

-          Shacke¹, you’d better say yourself with what decision to finish our meeting, - there heard some voices at last.  

            Then Shackyp stood slowly up and pronounced distinctly:

-          Majority will decide. Who is for to settle upon the plan in that form in which it was approved by the directorate, lift your hands.

            The plan that was proposed by Shackyp on behalf of the directorate was settled upon. After staying alone he darkened. Yes, the meeting contributed him but these hot disputes brought his soul into challenge: in fact many collective farmers voted against this plan. He was sitting and thinking about what was happening at the meeting when Shomart returned to the office.

            ¹Shacke – courteous mode of address from Shackyp.

-          Don’t take it unkindly, - Shomart said coming up to the chairman with decision, - but I will go to the district and do everything possible the decision of the meeting not to be approved.

            Shackyp pointed him onto the chair:

-          Sit down for short while.

            Shomart sat obediently down. Heat of the recent dispute didn’t cool down in his soul yet and his cheeks were tingling by blood. He yearned to listen to what Shackyp would say and go away. However, Shackyp didn’t hurry. He remained motionless and from time to time only crisped his fingers. Dead silence! Even dogs stopped barking in the aul.  

-          I am fifty-two, - Shackyp said at last. Gloomy expression didn’t disappear from his face: he screwed up his eyes a little and each his word sounded distinctly and weightily. – Fifteen years of them I am a chairman of our collective farm. When I took the collective farm there were thirty families in it, and now – one hundred fifty. There were thirty heads of cattle, but now – ten thousand. There were thirty hectare for sowing – now we have one and a half thousand. Say me, do I say the truth?

-          Yes, you do, - Shomart answered quickly.

-          Then why did people say that I have not enough open mind? Why do you think that I am a drag on the collective farm?

-          Achievements are measured not only by overpast actions; they should also be measured by future ones.

            The conversation was interrupted as if it was cut through with a knife.

-          No, I see, we will not be able to agree on. Well, go to the district. – Shackyp said at last and left the office.

            Stars were sparkling brightly in the moonless sky. Pleiades had already passed the zenith. Shackyp walked and snuffled greedily fresh frosty air. It was silent, only snow scrunched under the shoes. The aul was slipping in the white wide steppe as if a swaddled baby in a clean crib. Having shortened the stride Shackyp was attentively looking everything about. Now he looked like a mother at a baby’s crib. In his mind’s eye he saw again the building of each house. The trees remembered him those times when they were just seedlings.

-          Then there was nothing of these, and now, just look, - Shackyp said thoughtfully to himself.  

            Yes, these all grew up on his eyes. He was responsible for all these; every trifle was full of sense and meant something that only he could understand. He was truly assured that his collective farm had no minuses. Up to today he heard nothing else but thanks either from collective farmers or from the government. Two orders – evidences of his fame – were sparkling on Shackyp’s breast. Even now he was also sure that he had unShackeable authority. However, he was filled with dismay.

            Shomart’s behaviour puzzled him. Shomart was surely his deputy and a close friend. Why did he suddenly stop understanding Shackyp?

            Shackyp never muddled on. Before something to do he thought for several times. He was sure that his experience which he had been gleaning for many years long was perfect, and the collective farm that he had lovingly fostered had no match. And that is why everybody who said that the collective farm must be raised further seemed to him an out of head lion that in reckless courage threw itself at the moon.

            “Give just some free rein to this crazy thought, - Shackyp thought, - and you will surely get into hot water!”

            Walking immersed in thoughts he suddenly stumbled. He bent and pulled out from the snow a roll of wire.

-          It may come in handy for something; - he said and brought his find to the smith’s shop.

            Here he delayed for some time to examine the machines. Those ones that had been already repaired were standing aside and they were more noticeable than those ones which were just waiting for repair.

            “They do the job well. Fine fellow, Achmet, he has time for everything”, - Shackyp thought with satisfaction.

            Suddenly he heard somebody’s soft snore. Shackyp carefully walked to the grain barn from where he heard the snore and saw there his fellow and agemate, collective farm watchman Mamet. Mamet was sleeping peacefully. Shackyp sneaked and ganged up all of a heap on the sleeping friend.

-          Murder! Blue murder! – Mamet started crying out.

-          My word, shaitan! You are braying like a donkey, - Shackyp said while standing up.

-          Are you crazy? Why do you frighten me?

-          Is it good – to sack out?

-          You see, I have dropped off to sleep somehow, - Mamet apologized self-consciously.

-          You should sleep at home, an old good-for-nothing!

-          And you, an old reveller, you can just gad about by night!

-          Well, watch out, don’t sleep any more, - Shackyp said and checked the lock of the grain barn. Then he slowly went round the building. Mamet followed him.

-          What was the finish of the meeting? What did you decide? – He asked. – I went away long time ago but you still delayed for some time.    

-          How else could it finish? Our plan was approved, - Shackyp answered.

-          That’s just it. And this Shomart directed all the time the conversation into his side. And how grate he did it!

-          Yes, indeed! Hasn’t he said that your mind is not enough open and that you are a drag on our collective farm? O-oh, people’s sins! Then say who has raised our collective farm?

-          Never mind, Mamet, this all is because you are still young.

-          And what about Achmet? Or he also has become younger? No, they are up to no good.

            Shackyp answered nothing and moved along. When he was passing the house of blacksmith Achmet whom Mamet had mentioned Shackyp remembered that exactly Achmet had been absent in the meeting that day. Wasn’t he ill? The windows of the blacksmith’s house were lit and Shackyp decided to visit him.

            Having come up closer Shackyp saw a tied up horse at the door. He recognized Achmet’s piebald mare; it perspired and its whole body was covered with hoar-frost. A sheep dog started barking and Achmet came personally out having heard its barking. 

-          Who is this? – He asked. – Is it you, Shackyp? What’s up?

-          Everything is all right, - Shackyp answered loudly. – And what about you, our rich man, why have you ridden down the horse so much?

-          Oh, damn it, my fortune, - Achmet mumbled and led Shackyp into the house.

            The table was laid; a sparkling samovar was merrily racketing on it. Achmet’s wife, Zylyha, brought some snacks and started pouring out tea.   

-          Let us have a drink of vodka, - Achmet said, - you know, I have become cold and I am tired.

            Zylyha came out but soon she returned. She brought an already started bottle of vodka and a lump of fat mutton.

-          I see, you both are out of spirits today, - she said merrily, - have a drink for relief.

-          And why is our rich man out of spirit? – Shackyp asked.  

            The answer was hardly out of Zylyha’s mouth when Achmet started speaking:

-          Damn it, my fortune! I have nobody to look after it. My children are little yet, from early morning my wife and I are busy in the collective farm, and as for the cattle we have many heads of it. A certain thing: if you don’t look after cattle it will go to the bad. And today I have found missing one cow: I have been looking and looking for it all over the whole steppe – but everything was in vain. No way! As if it had been just brought by whirlwind or shaitan.

-          You will, of course, find it. Perhaps it walks somewhere.

-          I can’t leave the blacksmith’s shop because of it and run after it. This watery mouth, what else does it want?

            Shackyp laughed shaking with the whole body:

-          Is it good to be aggrieved at cattle?

            Achmet was sitting silent for some time as if he was thinking about something and suddenly he said with decision:

-          If you want to know the truth so I am not aggrieved at my cattle but at you, Shackyp. Even if the cattle hadn’t gone away all the same I and my wife would have lost peace. These cattle took away our peace and rest.

            Shackyp went on laughing:

-          That just please people! Have grown rich - but unsatisfied and haven’t grown rich – all the same you would not be satisfied. 

-          Eh, no, wait a moment… - Achmet interrupted him. – You don’t understand me. The collective farm has raised and become rich. But answer me: do we cope with this fortune right?

-          What do you want, my dear? Say, I don’t understand you.

-          And I will say. Listen! We, for example, lodge our money with a saving bank and when we need it we come and receive it. We also deposit our obligations and pay for this. Why don’t our farms do the same? Let the farms take the private herd of the collective farmers, grass it, look after it, grow it and you will take a payment for this.

-          Oibai-ai! What is he talking about? – Zylyha surprised and nipped her cheek.

-          In such a way he and Shomart want to gain communism at a jump, - Shackyp answered.

-          You, my dear, don’t understand, - Achmet said angrily. – Now you are a slave of your fortune. Earned fortune must gladden but we just have more troubles because of it. To earn – suffer and have earned – to be cut up too? There is no use of it.

            They stopped speaking. Achmet poured the short glasses again. In the nearby room there heard cry and Zylyha came out to calm down her baby. When she returned to the room Achmet resumed the interrupted conversation.

-          You all, for example, like to joke on me – you call me a collective farm rich man. But my fortune has put me up to those thoughts which I have shared with you now.

-          Perhaps it was Shomart who had put you up to these thoughts? – Shackyp interrupted him suddenly.

            Achmet looked at Shackyp and went on uneasily:

-          It was not Shomart but our collective farm life taught me to think about what to do tomorrow. As for Shomart he also makes many sensible suggestions. There now the baby started weeping.

            And Shomart remembered at once. He was right: we haven’t tuned up child-rearing practice yet. And we shall do this. We could turn our kindergartens and nurseries into paradise. And Shomart was right in another thing: it is high time to electrize our collective farm. It will do both to smith and cook, and milk cows. Why haven’t we made electricity work for us yet? I agree with many Shomart’s words.

-          Have you finished? – Shackyp asked; he could hardly restrain his temper.

            Having looked at Shackyp Zylyha guessed in what condition he was:

-          You’d better to stop, - she whispered below her breath.

-          I am keeping silent, - Achmet replied.

            And then Shackyp said:

-          There is a saying: “A sheep suffers because of its fat”. And I have seen the sheep which is suffering because of its fat. You are suffering because of your rich life. You all wander in your minds, don’t you? Do you expect me to gain communism from now on? But we have to begin on adequate tasks. Turn around; remember what we had fifteen years ago. Who turned then a horse to your yard? But today you have already overweened. Anyway, we don’t go at a pace now but at a trot. And if we start to tittup we can tumble down… But if we go calmly we will surely break the back of the pass.

-          E-e-eh… - Achmet drawled. – I was born the same year with you, grew up together with you but it turns out that I haven’t got the measure of you up to now. I thought that you are made of steel, you will bend rather than break the back, but it turns out that you are just a piece of frail crude iron.

            Zylyha even went out of depth in surprise.

-          Oh, what a shame… - She could hardly pronounce the words. – The whole life long you haven’t said a bad word about each other, and now what? Are they joking or speaking seriously?

-          Speaks Achmet for a joke or seriously, but we both have unburdened our minds. – Shackyp said and stood up.

            Zylyha was confused even more:

-          Don’t leave us, Zilkara, stay with us some more time…

            (Zilkara – a black stone – so people called in joke Shackyp in the aul because he had a dark-visaged face and stubborn temper.)

-          No, Zylyha, it is already three o’clock. My old woman might be tired of waiting for me, - Shackyp said and went to the door.

***

            After the meeting babbler Beisen went to see Shackyp’s wife Irysshan to and came in their house going hotly on the conversation that he had started on way. Horse beef was being boiled in the kitchen and its appetizing savour softly tickled Beisen’s nose. But as Shackyp didn’t return yet nobody took the beef out from the kettle and Beisen went on chattering.

-          As for me, so I understand what Shomart is aiming at… - He said.

            Irysshan who kept silent all the time and seemed indifferently listening to Beisen pricked up her ears after hearing these words:

-          What is he at?

-          What? A clear thing: he would like to become a chairman.

-          Why do you think so?

-          Haven’t you heard what Baimacken was speaking in the meeting about: “Shackyp has become manacles on the legs of the collective farm now”. Well, say me, whom did he want to sit on Shackyp’s place? Of course, it is Shomart… But how much good Shackyp did to Baimacken! Perhaps he has done nobody so much yet. I let alone the fact how much Shackyp helped Baimacken’s family when he served at the front. And when Baimacken returned from the army Shackyp gave him a cow with a calf and thirty two stones of bread. But people say the truth: who is sated that one will get above himself and will forget all good deeds.

            Irysshan didn’t want to go on listening to. Her sallow face carved with wrinkles grew dark. Having knit her brows she stood up and began laying the table. Beisen understood that he had got into a hobble and changed over to his usual news. Beisen always was full of news. He always knew the first whose cow dropped a calf, who had brought purchases from the town and whose relatives were on a visit to.

-          And do you know that Baimaken’s wife is pregnant? – Suddenly he said without rhyme or reason.

            Irysshan started unwittingly laughing:

-          Are you chattering again, a rowdy?

-          God is my witness that I say the truth. Today she came to my wife’s and asked her for some acid cheese.

-          Stop chattering, I say! It doesn’t become you, at your age…

-          What does it mean: it doesn’t become me? I am not abusing and gossiping.

            And here their conversation was interrupted. Shanat came out from the nearby room. A grown up girl, the only child, in this family she was not just the favourite daughter but also the son and a guest of honour. Now she seemed to be tired – she might have pored long over books. Having looked with her black like current eyes at the mother and Beisen she started walking around the room.

            The lamp seemed to be shining only for her now. The gleam of the lamp shade made Shanat’s white-rose face even lighter and the dark beauty spot on her right cheek seemed to be charming even more. From time to time she bent her black brows wide-set like martin’s wings and wrinkles started covering her expansive forehead. Mannishly with the hands behind her back she paddled with the thin fingers on her plaits that dropped below her knees. Her sub-elongated face and her straight nose she took after her mother; however, the whiteness of her skin and transparent blackness of her eyes made her face especially charming that was uncharacteristic neither of her father nor of her mother. She had a sedate pace for all the world like her father’s. But her temper she took after both her mother and her father: now she was strict, then soft-hearted, but sometimes too serious and at times lightsome and careless! Shanat was twenty-one. According to the age she had still to learn but she completed two courses for one year. After graduating the institute for a year ahead of time last autumn she was appointed as a curriculum director of the junior secondary school in her native collective farm “Amangeldy”.

            Shanat was really self-rigorous. Even now – it was already far into the night but she just rose from the table and perhaps the thoughts that troubled her didn’t unlock its embrace yet. Her mother who had been habituated to understand her daughter at once kept watch over her keeping silent and being afraid to disturb her musing.   

-          Why is Shackem so late? – She said addressing to nobody.

            Everybody in the collective farm called Shackyp with a pet name Shaсke and last years Shanat began to call him Shackem, “my Shacke”!

            Although Shanat’s question was addressed to nobody Irysshan said in a low voice:

-          Who has seen the finish of his work?

            In Shackyp’s three-room house the middle room where they were carrying on this conversation was the largest one, that’s why they used it not only as a dining-room but also for reception of incoming visitors. People often came to their place. Along the walls of this room there stood low plank beds which left only a lane into other rooms. The plank beds were covered with ornamented felt made in Suyunduk and with a big carpet with fanciful drawings finished weaving by “artful Almaty’s carpet-makers. It was possible to sit on the plank beds and not to smudge the felt with shoes.

            Irysshan was sitting deep on the plank beds, closer to the place of honour. Shanat came up to her and sat down nearby having spread out her legs and trying not to mess the dress. She closely examined her mother having cambered her white round neck that was visible from out the low collar of her grey checkered dress. Tender love was gleaming in this look. That was not a look of a child who was looking at his mother: no, in such a way a mother looks at her darling child. And it was the truth; Shanat sometimes looked at her parents as if they were her children. They had already got over a long way but there was still a difficult and trackless way to be overcome by them. She saw what a huge lack of knowledge they had and tried to impart them everything what she knew herself. Shanat was honor and relief of Shackyp’s and Irysshan’s souls and they cared for her as if she was a little child saying to themselves that she was still unskilled and hadn’t seen that bitter life yet which had fallen to the lot of them.

            Many things didn’t sound aloud in this close-knit family because here they were habituated to divine spirits and wishes of each other with the help of looks, movements of lips and brows. And there now tenderly glazing into her mother’s face Shanat noticed that she was perturbated by something. Shanat took her mother’s chin, turned her face to herself and asked smiling:

-          What troubles you, mother?

-          I am not disappointed, my daughter… 

-          Would you like me to play something for you?

-          Well, I would…

            Shanat stood quickly up, went to her room and there heard sounds of the piano from there.

-          He is delaying… - Irysshan said in a low voice and stood up too.

            She came to the kitchen and having returned brought a plate full of boiled meat. Beisen who had just lain down on the edge of the plank bed lifted up his head. Not to wait for invitation he stood up, washed carefully his hands and started busily cutting the meat not forgetting at that to put each second piece into his mouth without stopping chattering.

-          When will we arrange Shanatshan’s fate at last? – His both cheeks were shaking. He quickly chewed the meat.

-          I see, you have already found a desirable alliance?! – Irysshan asked mockingly.

            Beisen didn’t notice the mockery.

-          I think she feels sympathy for Shomart… - He continued. – Well, Shomart is a good dzhigit. It would be good to settle this case.

-          Oh, what are you? Shall she marry him and be the second wife?

-          He cannot live with Alma any more. Their young life is destroyed.

-          What are you chattering about?! Shanat and Alma are friends; they are in phase with each other. I wish nobody except me would hear your words, - Irysshan said indignantly.

            She knew what she was speaking about: Alma and Shanat grew up in the aul as if they were two daughters born by the same mother, they were friends since their childhood, they learned together, trusted their secrets to each other, shared the most internal thoughts.

-          If Shanat learns what you have said about Alma, - Irysshan added having looked strictly at Beisen, - then you will not even dare to nuzzle into our house.

            Beisen often visited this house and always as ill luck would have it, came by treating. Shackyp didn’t like idlers but knowing about Beisen’s naivety he didn’t blame him for his idling and sometimes even sent for him by himself and laughed to his heart’s desire listening to his “news”. But as in the afternoon Shackyp didn’t have any free time so Beisen usually came to their place in evenings. But today Shackyp delayed later than usual and Beisen went away not to wait until he would come.

            Irysshan was sitting in Shanat’s room and listening to music when they heard crunch of snow in the yard and Shackyp steadily treading came in the house. Shanat ran out towards her father. She helped him take off and hung the clothes.

-          Why are you so late, Shackem? – She asked her father.

-          It is because of my business… And here I happened along this swellhead and sat too long there, _ Shackyp replied.

            Shanat was on to whom his father had called “a swellhead” but she couldn’t understand was he joking or speaking seriously.

-          I don’t want eating; you’d better to bring me a pillow. – Shackyp said to his wife who was about to serve the food.

            Having looked at her father Shanat understood at once that he was distracted by something. Irysshan brought the husband a pillow and came to a standstill as if she was expecting that he would speak to her about something important then. He rubbed his palm over the face, leant his elbows against the pillow and looked at Shanat:

-          Shanatshan, would you like to sleep?

-          No, I wouldn’t.

-          And you, my old woman, have you already had a nap?

-          No, I haven’t. I haven’t had a chance to take a nap. This idler Beisen put a crimp me in with his chattering. He has just gone away.

-          Of course, he has filled you with his news. Well, if you are filled with them up then go to bed. And you, Shanatshan, come up here…

            Shanat moved closer to her father. Shackyp was sitting and keeping silent stroking her hair and kissing her in the forehead from time to time. Yes, he was satisfied with his daughter and thanked the fortune for her. Especially tender he was to her in such days as it was today, when he was sunk in his grave thoughts. Irysshan knew about this habit of her husband and – being worried didn’t leave them in spite of the fact that she wanted to sleep very much.

-          What times have come! – Shackyp started speaking at last. – Everybody goes out of way to bite my leg. Will I have enough strength to fight? Will I have enough moderation to defend my head? What will you say me about this? Mind is given to a people in the youth – well, say your word, my daughter. And you, my elderling, you have seen much for your life, what will you say?

            The answer followed not at once. The big wall clock ticked sharp in this noiseless silence. Shackyp was lying having lent his elbows against the pillow and examined the beautiful ornament around the hanging lamp. It seemed that he had already answered his questions by himself.

            Shanat started speaking at last:

-          I cannot understand what about you are speaking. Who bites your legs?

            While Shackyp was pulling together for to answer his daughter Irysshan couldn’t stay silent any more and said:

-          Haven’t you, my daughter, understood our Shacke? He is speaking about Shacke and Baimaken.

-          What do they accuse our Shacke of? – Shanat asked.

-          What can your father be guilty in?! They are just indignant. One wants to become a chairman, the other one – his deputy.

-          Well, if all people want this, so be it, - Shanat said. – If the majority elects them, so be it. What grievance and fight can you speak here about?

-          Eh, you have turned in a wrong direction, - Shackyp interrupted them. He even lifted his head from the pillow and knit his brows. – Will I dispute because of a rank? Let people aim at the post of the chairman but as for me so I agree to work even as a watchman. That is not the case. I love our collective farm the same strong as you, Shanatshan, the apple of my eye. I have raised it and now the time has come when it is strong and powerful. Well, say me, Shanat, if you suddenly find to yourself an unworthy friend or choose a wrong life journey, will I take it easy? And to hand the reins to the people whose thoughts are headlong and unripe – it is a more difficult thing. You cannot be a cutter to abuse a tailor. A lot of hangers-on will run for ready made. But are these hangers-on invited guests? But when you turn down somebody a little then they are aggrieved: they say that I press them with self criticism? Am I afraid for my head? Am I? Or do I worry about my fame? – No, I am afraid for our future, for our new aul, for that new world which we have been creating with the help of our labour – robbing ourselves of sleep.

            He stopped speaking. Shanat smiled slightly, two small round dimples appeared in the flicker of a second on her cheeks and disappeared at once. Shackyp noticed her smile.

-          What do you think, daughter, am I mistaking? – He asked.

-          No, you are right, Shackem, go on. But doesn’t it seem to you that you have become too jealous?

-          Well, it can be… The best years of my life I have given to our collective farm. I have been working seventeen years in the collective farm, fifteen of them – as a chairman. The most benignant years of my life. I see the results of my labour. Why mustn’t I be jealous and careful?

-          But if it is the truth, why have you worried so much? Or have people criticized you so much in the meeting? You see, I don’t know anything. I was busy, that is why I haven’t gone to the meeting.

-          I am no stranger to listen to criticisms. Criticisms differ.

-          And what have people said?

-          Eventually they have spoken right. And they have even made a right decision – approved the plan. But as for Shomart and Baimaken so they cried me: “You come now to the collective farm with not enough open mind, you are a drag on it!” They want to go to the district and achieve the revocation of the decision; they want to violate unity in the collective farm.

-          Who will disaffirm a right decision? Who can destroy a real unity, Shackem?

-          You don’t understand me. Not this is painful for your Shacke’s heart. I know that they will not be able to achieve the revocation of the decision and violate unity of our collective farm. But it is painfully to listen to that I come now to with improperly open mind and am a drag on. They are, my darling, conscious people – so don’t they really see what is done by me? Or don’t they want to see? – Shackyp said discontentedly and stopped speaking.

            It seemed to Shanat that she had understood her father at last. And in spite of the fact that he had not expressed quite clear the thoughts which troubled him she divined the thread of his thoughts and said:

-          They see or don’t see – but they cannot dig real deeds in the ground. People have appreciated your work not for a one time. Of course, you must be careful and jealous. But let me say you one thing, Shacke…

-          Say, my darling, say!

-          Our caravan has broken the back of the first pass of the history, and it was you, who had directed it, but behind it there opens a new way – and we must saddle the caravan again. You have honourably overcome the first pass. Now you must catch the trick of this new way, your old skill is useless here; everything will really stop with it. You will be stare everybody in the face that “you have improper open mind and are a drag on us”, as people already say about you. This is the thing what you must be afraid of. I don’t know if Shomart pitches it strong when he proposes to introduce different innovations. I have to think about this. Would you like me to think everything over and judge you?

-          Everything is too simple for you, Shanatshan, - Shackyp answered and clapped Shanat on the shoulder. – Where have you seen the thing when a son is chosen as a judge if someone disputes with a father?

-          Nothing can resist against justice and knowledge. Or do you perhaps think that I have a lack of justice and knowledge? – Shanat said and started laughing.

-          I am defeated, I carry your proposal, my darling, - Shackyp said and stood up.

3

            Next day after the meeting from early morning Shomart was going to the district.

            Being at the age of twenty-six Shomart wasn’t afraid of any hindrances, he thought that he was impregnable although the life had already struck twice at his assuredness. After graduating the agricultural college Shomart returned to his motherland. All doors opened wide in front of him. However, the first Shomart’s steps raised everybody’s eyebrows in some way. The young agriculturist didn’t agree to stay in an executive position of the district executive committee and expressed his wish to return to the collective farm. He went to work to collective farm “Amangeldy” as the deputy of the collective farm chairman. It was his first step made to fulfill his dream about public activity and the apple garden of his heart was Alma. Five years long he grew this garden in the shade of his heart and cherished his love.

            Shomart met her in Almaty. Alma’s mother died just before the Great Patriotic War and soon her father also died in the front. The girl went to Almaty. There she entered an academy of music and after graduating it in grade of violin returned last year together with Shomart to the collective farm. He believed that only everlasting possession of Alma’s heart would be the happiness of all his life. And exactly then against all expectations the fate struck him a crashing blow.

            Soon after their wedding Alma flew to Almaty. The plane met with an accident and the fire started in it. Alma survived but the flame burnt her eyes. Six months long she was in the hospital but she lost her sense of sight forever. Recently Alma returned. In such a way in one hand Shomart had happiness and in the second one – misfortune. It seemed to Shomart that having handed him in at once the both his severe fate was dreadfully looking at him and said: “Now then, what will you do?”

            In comparison with this terrible disaster dissidences with Shackyp seemed to Shomart just a small hill on his life journey. “If he hinders me I will step him over,” – Shomart thought about Shackyp. But the meeting showed him that that old man Shackyp who had been able to put though the plan was not just a hill at all but an age-old oak that had deeply taken its roots into the ground. Yes, yesterday the life cracked clearly again on Shomart’s forehead as if it threatened him: “Watch yourself! Just try to act up!” But even this blow was not able to bring the young dzhigit to his knees.       

            He was going being sunk in the sea of his thoughts; his eyes were glancing intractably and it seemed that there was not any power that could make him take the wrong turning of his planned course.

            Around him as far it was possible to range eyes round there was a wide white steppe. Snow was deep and it seemed to Shomart that only he was floating over this white sea. The well-cared-for horse fagged along his light sledge waggling it at a steady pace along the track. The endless steppe and run of the horse hotted Shomart’s thoughts.

-          We will have everything! Everything! – Suddenly he said loudly on a whim.

            And when his dark-grey horse darted forward having been afraid of his voice it seemed to Shomart that he had woken up. After turning round he saw some people afar who were moving through the field ahorse and on foot. “Retention of snow”, - Shomart thought. Somewhere he could see barriers made of snow. The flatland was covered with big snow drifts and people now appeared on them then faded from view. Field-brigade crew boss Baimaken skied quickly now appearing then disappearing like a boat in the waves. Having come up with Shomart he went on skiing nearby the sledge…

-          Good luck, Shomart.

-          I wish your words would become true.

-          You have to stand the question edgewise, in a soldier-like manner.

            Shomart looked at Baimaken with a corner of his eye and smiled. But Baimaken didn’t notice his smile. To say the truth, today it seemed that he didn’t notice anything, even keen frost, - his ear-flaps hat was untied and his face grew red like a ripe apple.

-          Let’s smoke, would you? – Shomart proposed.

            It seemed that the horse was waiting for these words and stopped at once.

`           - And exactly these people provided the front with whatever was required, - Baimaken surprised. – Why have they got out of hand so much after the war?

-          And what? Don’t they answer your orders?

-          No, no! They obey, answer but they do everything drowsily – I think it is slack discipline. When I order – they do but not always exactly, accurate and in time. You see, the accurate performance seals the fate of a business. In the army an officer commanding has said – and that’s all, there is an end of it, and here another pair of shoes. I demand discipline and Shackyp makes everything in his own way…

-          And what about him, has he interfered in again?

-          Yes, he has. Yesterday this babbler Beisen didn’t fulfill the quota and as for his wife although she did it but the barrier which had been hilled by her was lower than it is required. I dismissed the both and didn’t write their workday units down. And today Shackyp has come and said: “What’s up? Do you want to bring these people to destruction? It is no good, you have to bring people along”. This Shackyp is just like shackles on my legs.

            Shomart couldn’t control himself any more and started laughing.

-          If to reason to your mind then I am also a milk toast.

-          You are another thing. You have both instinct and knowledge. Besides, you are young and we, the youth, have the same thoughts: let’s take, for example, your plan that has stuck in my head so firmly as if I had drawn it up by myself. Without fail you have to achieve its approval. For one year we will raise our collective farm on such a high level…

-          We will see, - Shomart said composedly and after smoking the cigarette till the end sat down in the sledge.

            Baimaken thought that he was a close friend for Shomart. However, Shomart shared with him neither of those thoughts that had crossed his mind during his way. Baimaken was quick on the uptake and he worked even quicker. He had outspoken character and sometimes his language was violent. Five years long he served in the front and was habituated to the strict discipline. If to give him free rein for one day he will establish military discipline in the collective farm. But to say the truth, he wasn’t always contributed in this either by Shackyp or among collective farmers. They disliked him and Baimaken continued to hold the position of a crew boss only at the instance of Shomart. However, deep in his mind Shomart didn’t also like Baimaken very much. “Shackyp is too slow but this one is too hasty and cantankerous”, - he thought. But now Baimaken’s precipitance corresponded more to Shomart’s plans, - that is why Shomart made himself put up with his imperfections.

            The sledge ran again over the white steppe and Shomart heard what Baimaken hallowed him:

-          At first you have to go to the district executive committee! Yermeckov contributes Shackyp!

            Yesshan Yermeckov was the chairman of the district executive committee. Shomart himself wanted to visit at first the secretary of the district executive committee, Satan Saginbaev, however, not to know how Yesshan can look at this he finally decided to go to the executive committee. But when he was coming to the town he started hesitating again. He was a fresh man here and that is why trifles which local inhabitants watched every day and didn’t even notice already unwittingly struck his eyes. These trifles irritated Shomart. When he was crossing the bridge over Kara-Nura on the bank of which the town lay one leg of his horse was about to drop in a big split between the planks. “What bad owners! – Shomart boiled over. – In such a way they can leave all horses with no legs!” Having gone a little more he saw about a dozen of horses that were driven to a watering-place, to an ice-hole. The horses were shivering from cold. One that was especially scraggy had all its ribs that were possible to see through, the other one had a badly chafed chest, the third one – a beaten up back, some ones’ skin was rubbed with ropes not only on their hips but also even in groins. Shomart knew that those were the horses of the district executive committee.

-          Eh you, poor creatures! – He took pity on them when he was passing them. – You don’t have a real owner. What for to look after the horses when they have so many well-kept horses in the collective farms everywhere?!

            The party district committee and the district executive committee were located in the same building. The titled whitewashed house struck his eyes from afar; it seemed to be beautiful and even majestic. But the ground around it was bare like a face of a beardless one. Shomart liked the building, but then and there he scarified again the owners: “They should plant some trees around. Both they don’t need much money and they have enough hands for this”.

            Suddenly he saw that one part of the roof was covered with a whole stack of straw.

-          What a bally nuisance! – He resented and remembered at once that one time in autumn having come to Yesshan’s study he had noticed how there had been dropping water from the ceiling which was beautifully coloured with some oil paint.

            Shomart stopped his horse, got out of his sledge and came into the district executive committee.

            Satan and Yesshan were consulting with each other in Yesshan’s study. They were speaking about Shackyp; it was question about to propose him for awarding the order of Lenin.

            Not having seen a girl-secretary on her usual place Shomart opened the door to the study a crack.

-          Come in, come in, - Satan called Shomart.

            After greeting first of all Satan asked him about Alma’s health and when Shomart started telling he could read in Satan’s face how deeply he felt for Alma. It seemed that before his eyes there stood two girls: one was yesterday’s bonny Alma and the second one – today’s, unhappy and blind.

-          You must take care of her. We have done for her everything we could. Say us, what else can we do for her? – He asked when Shomart had finished his story. – Tell, what for have you come?

-          I have gone with a complaint against the old man. – Shomart said.

            Satan looked somewhere aside and Yesshan dropped his eyes. Shomart noticed this but he went surely on speaking:

-          Yesterday he gained the majority and his underestimated plan was approved by the meeting.

            Yesshan opened his folder that was lying on his table, pulled out from there a large sheet of paper and threw it on the table.

-          Was this one plan approved? – He asked.

-          Yes, this was.

-          Is it an underestimated plan? What is here underestimated? Cattle stock will rise for fifteen per cent, sowing will also grow up to fifteen per cent. If the collective farm fulfills this plan Shackyp will take again the first place in the district.

-          We have a lot more possibilities. – Shomart said. – The plan foresees only quantity increases but as for me so I would add twenty-twenty-five per cent in excess of quantum growth to these fifteen per cent. Well, say me, is it bad to get twenty-twenty-five liters of milk from one cow instead of five or ten? Twenty-five – thirty centners of grain per one hectare instead of ten-fifteen? There is nothing about this in Shackyp’s plan. And what about further rise of cultural level? And what about labour alleviation and productivity gain through electrification?

-          Comrade Nurlanov, the things which you propose they can be included not in a one year but in the whole five-year plan. – Yesshan said. – No mistake your plan is perfect but for the present you have to tuck it away.

-          These are not empty dreams, - Shomart said. – Our possibilities are evident.

            Yesshan called him again.

-          Not all possibilities are realizable. We should take into account time and our powers. Let the collective farm gain at first the abundance of products and raw materials. This is the thing that the country’s economy requires first of all. And then we will set foot on that stage what you are dreaming about.  

-          According to my plan the first task will be fulfilled with overflow and in the meantime the collective farm will rise to a new level. Just look here, - Shomart said and laid out his plan on the table.

            These were complicated calculations and diagrams which clearly demonstrated the reality of his intensions. Yesshan leant over them but Shomart couldn’t read in his face that he had concentrated. Some days ago Satan and he considered Shackyp’s plan and they remained satisfied very much. And you know that it is not a simple thing to give up what you have already accepted.

-          State it briefly, - he said to Shomart.

-          I cannot say shorter than the numbers do, - Shomart answered and smiled… - It is not a five-year plan as you say, it is just a one-year one. If twenty-five cows of hundred milk ones are brood then brood cows will give the same income that we get now from one hundred cows. Therefore, return from the rest of seventy-five cows will be a net profit. If of one hundred hectares of sowing agronomists really use fifty then these fifty hectares will give as much as one hundred hectares give now. It means, the harvest of the remained fifty hectares will be again a net profit. You see, here in the first and the second table we give exact calculations. Now about electrification. After electrifying mills, blacksmith’s shops, cattle farms and collective farmers’ houses we will spare two thousand work hours for one year. Just count how many work days it makes up. Is it good to keep silent when you see such wealth? Is it good to give up on fight for such wealth?

-          Yes, but this wealth is just on paper now and only in your head, - Yesshan said.

            Shomart took offence.

-          The real wealth is always in one’s head at first in the same manner as poverty, - he objected.

            Satan who was keeping silent up to now asked suddenly:

-          But does the collective farm have enough people to fulfill your plans this year?

-          During the first period, of course, we will have a lack of people; we will ask our state for help, machines, for example.

-          I see, you will have to ask for money too. Because you will have to pay for machines, brood cattle and building materials.

-          The collective farm doesn’t need any money, - Shomart answered to Satan. – Just now I have spoken here about millions of income. If we drive our collective farm mares from the pasturages then only for kumis we will get five thousand rubles a day. Besides, in the local collective farms vegetable patches and gourd fields take a very inconspicuous place. If we sow forty-fifty hectares with vegetables and gourds then we will get one million rubles of income in excess. Just this money will cover all our expenses.

-          During the war the most of enterprises worked for the front. The production of machines is still limited now. You cannot be given them. Say, what will you do if you don’t get that help which you lot upon? – Satan went on questioning.

-          Even in this case the collective farm will be able to fulfill fifty per cent of my plan and these fifty ones will cover Shackyp’s hundred.

            Shomart stopped speaking. Satan looked at Yesshan as if asking: “What will you say for this?” Yesshan hesitated noticeably. Shomart’s arguments sounded very demonstratively. However, he was timed about saying “yes”. “It will be good if they manage this all, - he thought, - but if not?”

            Yesshan thought that great plans and new thoughts could come only from above but when they suddenly came from below he was looking for a pretext to beg somehow the questions and not to take the responsibility. That is why he was sitting and keeping silent feeling that he was absolutely helpless.

            Satan was keeping silent too. “Is not he an air monger?” – He thought at first about Shomart. But having listened to all Shomart’s reasoning and after looking at his calculations he understood that they could set great store by this assured in mind fellow.

-          Your thoughts are interesting, - he said at last. – Just don’t hurry. We have to learn your propositions as yet. And now come back and fulfill Shackyp’s plan.

            After Shomart’s leaving, Yesshan brightened at once up.

-          Shomart wants to come over Shackyp and over the directives of the district in these questions, - he said excitedly.

-          And what is bad in this?

-          It is bad when a person speaks for buncombe and builds castles in the air, - Yesshan said sharply.

-          Exactly this I cannot say about Shomart, - Satan pronounced thoughtfully. – The fellow has given us a new fresh thought that is worthy of studying. And not only of studying but perhaps of its practical use too. This fellow has a clear head and a hot heart. You should understand this, Yesshan.

4

            Alma was caught by depression. She was slowly walking around the room and talking to herself:

-          What is more worth? What is more joyful than you, my youth? What are you at all? And I answered: youth – it is light; these are my eyes that lighten the world for me. And how do you feel without your eyes? And I answered: I feel without eyes as in a dark grave. But what a miracle has been performed with me now? Does a feeling really exist that is sharper and stronger than my sense of sight? When I had my sense of sight I saw and didn’t notice and now everything excites, attracts and seems wonderful. Earlier I fleeted over my life and didn’t know its depth. Only now I have measured it. And if somebody asked me: “What is more worth and the most joyful for me?” – I would answer: “Life! Oh life, bottomless deep, huge and incomparably beautiful!..” I will be surprised by the people who live you yourselves. I will live. I wish to be joyful. Everybody around me, - Shomart, Shanat, - this is my native nation that has brought me up – everybody calls me for life.

            There heard somebody’s steps behind the door.

-          Shanat, - Alma said in a low voice.

            Having lost her sense of sight Alma started to know people by their walk, by their manner to open a door. And she correctly divined the spirit of her friends by a tone. And this time she didn’t mistake too – Shanat came in. She quickly put something on the table and rushed to Alma. The friends embraced and kissed each other with such tenderness as if they hadn’t seen each other for a long time.

-          You look very good in these glasses! – Shanat started speaking merrily. – Today you look like the same good as earlier.

-          Do you really think so? Do I look good in these glasses? – Alma lively asked and a habitual smile flashed on her face but it faded at once.

-          I’ll say! They are so beautiful. Where have you got them?

-          Valentina Ivanovna has sent.     

-          What is she?

-          She is a professor of the Almaty’s ophthalmic institute. “I have ordered it especially for you”, - she wrote. And what colour are they?

-          They are dark blue.

-          I’ll tell you what, let’s go for a walk, - Alma suddenly proposed.

-          Well, let’s go, I seem that you have been long sitting at home.

-          What do you have on?

-          I have on my coat, an astrakhan hat and boots on my feet.

-          Well, I put on in the same manner.

            Alma liked to wear the same things which Shanat wore. She dressed very quickly and they got out. They were very much alike as lambs-twins, only Alma’s dark glasses distinguished her. The girls were slowly walking with each other on the arms and speaking in a low voice.

-          Let’s climb Syrgabai, - Alma proposed.

            Syrgabai was the only sugar loaf mountain on this side of the river and like a lone watchman overtopped exactly in the middle of the aul. It seemed that it had settled there having run away from powerful hills that were situated on the other bank of the river Nura.  

            When the friends were climbing Syrgabai, Alma asked:

-          It seems to me that the sky is cloudless today, isn’t it?

-          Yes, it is cloudless, - Shanat answered and tears welled in her eyes.

            Yes, the day was fair; it was splendorous and joyful, it flattered and delighted the eyes. For so many times in the days like this one from the top of this sugar loaf mountain Shanat and Alma had admired the beautiful view that opened from here. For so many times here they had entrusted each other the secrets of their hearts! “But now Alechka cannot see this all any more”, - Shanat thought and tears welled in her eyes again.

            But Alma was busy with her own thoughts and didn’t notice her trouble…

-          Tell me, Shanechka, about everything what is going in the aul, - she said.

-          Well, I am not a poet. Am I really able to express you the whole charm of everything what is around us?

            And having dried the tears Shanat ranged her excited eyes everything round. She imagined that Syrgabai was a magic mountain which there spread out a fairytale world around. Shanat ran out of words and stumbling and stopping she started speaking:

-          There are no clouds in the sky… The sun is slowly rising to its zenith point. Everything is transparent and blue overhead. And the ground is white because of snow, and you can distinctly see everything on it. Now we are standing having turned to the west. Here I see how a flock is slowly returning from the watering place. The first cows are already in the aul and the last ones are just going out onto the bank. The flock has stretched like a long chain!.. Ah, no, the chain is broken. The collective farm horses ran out onto the bank of the river and having given a stretch to their tails are rushing to the aul and frightening the cows. Even one heifer has slumped in a snowdrift in fear.

-          Who has let the cattle walk runabout? – The friend interrupted Alma.

-          Perhaps, they let them run and limber up a little. And here appeared “Don’t babble” personally.

            Alma started laughing. “Don’t babble” whom they were speaking about – it was Amanbeck, an agemate of the both girls. He was a respectable person, a crew boss of the cattle-breeding brigade. He had a very funny habit – often to say “Don’t babble” in season and out of season. In his childhood he was a fighting cock and took away Shanat’s and Alma’s dolls not for one time driving them to tears. But when they returned to the native aul after finishing the study there even his eyes filmed with tears for joy.  

-          One time he said me: “Don’t babble”, - what an original! – Alma went on laughing.

-          “Don’t babble” – it is another thing, but what for this overplus of politeness.. Yikes, yikes! – Shanat started suddenly crying. – Alma, what is he doing? He is breaking a horse.

            Amanbeck vaulted into the saddle of a three-year horse. Having ducked low its head the grey horse kicked up the heels like the devil trying to throw down the rider. After hearing its furious neigh the whole flock anxiously turned their heads watching the fight. Having firmly clenched its crupper with his legs Amanbeck caught its crest with his strong hand and it seemed that he stuck to the back of the madding horse. After getting on hind legs and making some more wild jumps the three year horse was not able to throw down the rider. Its sides were moving right and left. After hitting it several times with all his might Amanbeck rode away.

-          What a brave fellow! A real dzhigit! – Shanat admired describing Alma what was going on the snow flat land.

-          He is a good fellow, - Alma said. – Do you remember how Amanbeck flicked with his whip and kicked away from out the aul that saucy young kipper who had said him some dirt about us?

-          He is brave more than enough. He is also the same in his work… If to educate him he would much amount of something!..

-          It seems to me that he wants to become an animal technician.

-          It will be great for him!

-          Our aul is wonderful, - Shanat went on speaking turning lovingly around. – Here stand calmly white accurate houses and their chimneys are ejecting blue smoke. There are some trees at the houses, from behind them there gleam windows from time to time reflecting the sun. At the edge of the aul I can see huge cattle yards and some farther there stand field stacks in rows. You know, however huge our cattle yards were - they look like factory buildings – but all the same they cannot admit all the collective farm cattle, that’s why a part of it they drive to range.  

-          It would be good to arrange a fixed radio-link communication with drivers-shepherds. Why don’t you advise it to Shacke? – Alma noticed.

-          I have said him but he doesn’t have any time for this. Two houses, dear Alma, are especially elegant in our aul.

-          These are the school and the club, - Alma guessed at once.

            And the friends stopped speaking having remembered such recent and such happy foretime. They had got their first skills in these buildings; here they had tied their red ties for the fist time and with triumphant singing walked along the streets of the aul. Then they grew up and heard a noise of a big city. But the charm of their childhood had kept for ever in their minds. Alma sighed deeply:

-          I wish my eyes would open at least just for a while. Then I would be able to see if the world is really so beautiful! Or am I perhaps painting it in bright colours having lost my sense of sight? I remember, you liked to philosophize a little, Shanechka. Tell me, what do you think about this?

-          Eyes see but soul imagine. But is it possible to imagine the things which don’t exist in reality?

-          Yes, of course… Then go on, what else do you see?

-          Nearby the clove Sholak-Uzek where you and I were used to pick up wild strawberry there pilled white snowdrifts like huge waves. There are some people, a lot of people, they are making snow fences and building barriers, they are gathering water for the fields.  

-          Now they are gathering water but then they will be gathering harvest, - Alma said.

-          And just under us at the bottom of the sugar loaf mountain where we are standing now there are skiing some skiers. These are the senior pupils. Perhaps they had a competition and now being tired they are slowly returning… Now I see how the first skiers have gone down onto the ice. Some children are skating over the sparkling ice of the river. They are looking here, waving us with their hands and crying something to us; - I seem they have recognized us.

-          Happy kids, - Alma said and waved to the children. A gleam of joy and love ran over her face.

            Shanat turned to the north. Over that bank of the river there stretched a long chain of reddish stacks, it was possible clearly to see them from the bottoms to the tops. On the reddest and highest one there overtopped a hunter, Dos Karbasov, astride a horse and with a golden eagle in his hands.

            Dos had already numbered fourscore years. When snow was soft he hunted with a whippet but if it hardened – with his golden eagle. Most of all old Dosecke liked to hunt for wolf.

            Foxes that hadn’t appear there already for many years long reproduced for the last years so much that a desire of the old hunter’s youth came to life again. And now he fulfilled the furs plan of the collective farm not less than for one hundred and fifty if not for all two hundred per cent. Dosecke rode a horse like a young dzhigit.

-          Dosecke flashes on the top of Shauyr like a statue, - Shanat said. She suddenly remembered something and started laughing. I seem that Dosecke is still offended at, - she added.

-          Who has offended him?

-          A badger has. Last summer Dosecke with a gun behind his back and his whippets went about the steppe. Suddenly he saw a badger just in front of him. Can the dogs who hunt for wolf loose a badger? They ran down at once and were about to catch it. But Dosecke was carried away by the eyeful of the hunt so much that he didn’t shoot. And suddenly he noticed nearby a badger sett. Having realized that the badger was running in its direction Dosecke jumped out of the saddle and hunkered down shutting off the entrance into the sett. And here the mad badger ran slap into the old man.

-          And what about Dosecke?

-          He hadn’t time for shooting. He pulled out his knife and stuck it into fat side of the badger. But the badger bit Dosecke’s thigh! Dosecke jumped from pain and the animal escaped at once in its sett.

-          Pity. Ah, what a pity! – Alma laughed. – Yikes, he will fall down, down… - Shanat had suddenly a fright.

-          What’s up? Who will fall down?

-          Dosecke! He is rushing along the edge of the steep. If he slips he will roll down, into the river. Oh, he has put in motion his golden eagle! The golden eagle is flying fast like a falling star. It has run down, is fighting with a fox.

-          Has it caught the fox? Has it?

-          Do you remember how Abai sang, - Shanat answered:

            Even snow is blinking my eyes with its whiteness,

            A black eagle is hovering over a red fox

            Like a beauty splashing in light water,

            It is beating with wings and tumbling it underneath.

-          Tell me at last: has it caught the fox or not? And what about Dosecke: has he run them down?

-          It has, has! Dosecke has already caught the fox and beats it against the ground!

-          And right now he might be mumbling an abracadabra: “Three times in nines I wish I would be able to catch the whole flock.” Might he?

-          From where do you know about this, Alechka?

-          Well to be sure! Once Dosecke even presented me a fox skin. And what stories about hunting I heard earful! No, it is wonderful: is everything really so beautiful in the life? I don’t know why but I remember only good things. 

            In the gentle and clear frost air there appeared some kind of a quiet and monotonous sound. This sound that was striking upon from afar was like a mother’s lull, as if it was lulling the endless steppe. Shanat looked at her watch. It was five o’clock and the friends guessed at once: far behind the pass, thirty-forty kilometers off it was hooting Karaganda. And then there struck a more powerful wave of sounds upon them: these started hooting Temirtau’s plants. On the very horizon like blue fog there spread some smoke that was running up over the chimneys of the plant. There stretched a large road among the plants and the collective farms and back and forth there endlessly moved cars, carts and passers-by along it.

            These were the waves of sounds that rolling from afar enlivened for Alma everything what Shanat was trying to tell her about. Alma’s thin face became concentrated and she softly got her arm loose from under the arm of her friend. Now she was walking without her hold-up, faltering a little and stopping from time to time and singing under breath fragments of some tunes. In such a way, step by step unnoticeable to herself she walked off Shanat. Sensitively listening to what Alma was singing Shanat continued attentively to look at her friend being afraid that that one could stumble and fall down. 

-          Dreams are like clouds in the blue sky! – Alma suddenly started singing merrily and loudly as if she had found something having straightened all her body and lifted highly her head.

¹All translations of the poems in the text of long short story “Millionaire” are made by R. Bugaevskiy.

-          Alma, dear Alechka, be carefully: a stone! – Shanat cried and having run to Alma grasped her arm.

-          Ah, what’s up with me?! – Alma came to her sense.

            Arm in arm they went down. There spread a large street of the collective farm aul in front of them. Passers-by greeted them hearty and gazed after them. Everybody was especially friendly and attentive to Alma. Each one invited her to come in. “Your part of treatment is waiting for you, dear”, - nothing else than this she heard from all the sides. The inhabitants of the aul knew Alma’s parents; many of them remembered when she had been born. Alma grew up in their sight. They entertained great expectations of this beautiful educated girl and took to heart her grief now. Alma knew about this. And when it happened that her heart ran cold and she felt as if she had been rented away from the whole world this overall love assured her that the most joyful thing in the life was the life itself. Alma smiled friendly, nodded and loudly greeted everybody.

            After passing the collective farm gardens Shanat and Alma came up to the general stock. Lively buzz of buyers who were crowding in front of attractive shop windows accompanied the friends up to the very home. At the gates Shanat saw a horse covered with hoarfrost.

-          I see Shomart has come! – She cried out.

            And here Alma remembered what she had been going to tell Shanat about.

-          Do you know what for he has gone to the district? – She asked. – They are at odds with Shacke for some reason.

-          Yes, I know but I hope to reconcile them.

-          Try. You know, it seems to me that Shomart’s plan is realistic enough.

            When they came into the room Shomart having crossed his arms behind the head was having a rest on the soft sofa. After seeing them he jumped up and helped them to take their clothes off – at first Alma and then Shanat. Having hung the coats he sat them down on the sofa and sat himself between them. He had high cheekbones, thick lips and a long, turned up a little nose and he could look like a negro but for his small eyes and wheat-yellow colour of his face. Even his hair was curly. Because of this his friends called him “Moresco”. Now his face was dark because of frost and that is why he looked like a negro even more.  

-          Well, Moresco, tell us, - Shanat said.  

            Shomart’s dark face brightened up and he smiled. He readily stood up, pulled out his cigarette case from the pocket and sat down again.

-          For the benefit of Desdemona Moresco is ready for everything, - he said at last hungrily inhaling. – What about would you like to listen to?

-          Tell us about your trip, - Alma said.

-          My plan has been not approved.

-          Why?

-          Perhaps, I cannot apply and I have a lack of authority. If this plan had been proposed by Shacke and the meeting had passed it by a solid voice then it would have been another thing. But as yet they decided just to study my plan, - he spoke discontentedly.

            Shanat went on questioning:

-          Is there perhaps anything other? A lack of authority, it is not a cause!

-          It depends on a person. If a knife is made of iron you can sharpen it or not, all the same it will have no edge.

-          But who is guilty: a knife, a sharpening stone or a knife-grinder?

            Alma smiled and having embraced him patted on his face as if he was an offended child.

-          Don’t complain, fight and win your authority.

-          The authority must be won, I know this very well. But while you are winning you can turn grey. And what about time? If we didn’t have a hard time parting with it our Shanat would work a half of her life and the other half she would pitch woos.

-          Let me take home your calculations, I also want to study them, - Shanat asked.

            Alma took the violin and ran several times the bow over the strings. Then she shook her head and as if she had decided for something started playing “Shas-Kazakh”. Soft mellifluous sounds now flew up becoming louder then sank down tailing away. Earlier Alma played good too but now it seemed that Alma’s excited heart now melted like gold then flared up like flame. She was playing as if the inspiration that had overfilled her soul already for a long time ran over like a powerful stream and the strings of the violin became the bed of this stream.  

-          You have a real talent; - Shomart said when she stopped playing. – Have you played something own?

-          She is not only a musician but also a composer, - Shanat added.

-          Ah, I wish to become a composer… - The words slipped out of Alma’s lips. Being excited she was unable to continue.

            Achmet resting against a hayfork was standing at his cattle yard. The day was frosty and Achmet let clouds of condensed breath out.

            He had good healthy cattle. He had two well-bred cows in one stall, fifteen Kazakh sheep with big round broad tails in the other one. Apart – in a separate stall – there stood a big piebald mare. It seemed that all these cattle was about to burst because of fat. All feed cribs were abundantly filled with oat and concentrated feedstuff. Kiths and friends called Achmet just “bai-yeke” that meant “our rich man” and all collective farmers respectfully named him “stakhanovite Achmet”. He was a skilled craftsman and hotly loved his work that demanded the both strong and skills. He was an inventive, restless and always looking for something person. Earlier than others he started to use in his everyday life those innovations what he learned about from the papers or citizens. In his youth he had tried to make “a shaitan-araba cart”, in such a way Kazakhs had named a bicycle in old times. Because of this he had even become a mockery of the aul. And now he rode not only a bike but also a motor cycle. Up to now many collective farmers fed their cattle with hay but Achmet’s cattle got oat and concentrated feedstuff. In return if other cows gave just five or ten liters of milk Achmet’s cows gave twenty-five – thirty liters. However, Zylycha usually looked after the cows but yesterday she went to Karaganda and didn’t return yet.

            Today Achmet got up with the day spring together. He watered the cattle, gave it food and raked out dairy sludge, banked snow in front of the gates and swept the paths. Never once he took a load off his feet since the early morning. He was tired very much but still he didn’t see the end of work. He had to feed the poultry, flow milk through the separator, cook meal and clean the rooms and he knew that in the afternoon almost all this humdrum would start from the very beginning! And tomorrow – the same kinds of things again. Achmet was angry. He had finished repair works in the collective farm before their term ended and intended to have a rest on week-ends but here suddenly all work about the house dropped on him from the clouds.

-          I’ve a good mind to leave this all. And I will just sit and read a newspaper.

            But however he didn’t have any chance to read a newspaper. The geese started gabbling, the ducks began quacking – he had to go and fill the feed cribs.

-          These ones, damn them! – Achmet mumbled

            When he was pouring the food for poultry he heard mournful grunting. Achmet didn’t eat pork but he thought that it was more profitable to keep pigs than some other kind of cattle saying that they were “ready cash”. When he was pouring a mess for pigs he remembered about rabbits. Then his son returned from school, he had to give him to eat.   

-          What have you come with? – He met the son with a usual question.

            The boy answered stumbling:

-          I have three in arithmetic.

-          Eh, what’s the matter with you today?

-          It is because of mother. Yesterday she didn’t let me go long to learn my lessons.

-          Really? What a mum you have! – Achmet started roaring all over the yard. – I wish she would just return – I will remake her into horseshoes. And as for you, until you better your mark I don’t let you play!

            Walking around the house Achmet untied the chained up dog, muzzled it and left with it the yard.

            There was laid out a garden around the house – the apple of Achmet’s eye. There he had grown apple trees, raspberry and currant which were untypical to grow in this region. When lilac was in blossom its smell made passers-by stop at his wicket gate. The sheep dog was running around the garden. Achmet walked slowly after it and looked round the trees grown by him. Each bush seemed alive to him and he attentively examined each branch. While Achmet was walking around the garden his beard was covered with hoar in the same manner as the branches of his nurselings. But he was still hot and he didn’t tie his hat with earflaps. Achmet came up to a muckhill from which there arose a thick vapour. Behind the fence he saw crew boss Baimaken who was standing on a snowdrift. Achmet and Baimaken were neighbours but they seldom met each other. Having seen Achmet Baimaken went down from the snowdrift and came up to him.

-          Salem, comrade stakhanovite Achmet, - he said respectfully and put his fingers to the hat in a soldierlike manner.

            In the greeting of the crew boss there was not a respectable “title of high ranking” that was set by a tradition but Achmet didn’t take umbrage about Baimaken.                  

-          Salem, salem, comrade! – Achmet replied friendly stretching him his hand.

            The sheep dog was about to lunge at Baimaken but the master restrained it and starting laughing said:

-          Don’t be afraid, it will not bite. The muzzle is strong.

            Not having paid any attention to the sheep dog Baimaken asked:

-          Comrade Achmet Barantaev! Have you served in the army?

-          No, I haven’t.

-          Have you read Michurin’s works?

-          No, I haven’t read but I have heard something.

-          It is wonderful. You haven’t served in the army but you work in a soldierlike manner. You haven’t read Michurin’s works but what a garden you have grown! You have finished repair works till the term ended; dropping for fertilization – here it is, already prepared too. I wish everybody would work as you. But first of all we need for this a military order and discipline. We don’t have this in our collective farm! You remember during the war we could quickly retrieve plants and even the whole cities. And not only to retrieve but to build new ones for several months. This I call discipline, but, of course, we can waste this all in a shake, for this we don’t need any discipline. You should feel discipline with your all creature but not only let it through one ear. You, for example, finished repair works and today you are free – but in spite on this you have got up with the day spring from habit. I am too. I have already gone skiing round the whole collective farm and all suburbs. I don’t have a habit to lie sidelong. “A good habit leads to the happiness, a bad one – to a grief”, - our officer commanding said. And if dissoluteness becomes a habit then wait for a misfortune. Here many people don’t understand this. We must fight for order and discipline.  

            Achmet was quietly listening to this violent speech and when Baimaken stopped he said not having looked up:

-          We will have everything what you are speaking about. And even now we have already something. But I’ll say you about other thing.

            He stopped and looked at Baimaken. He was dressed light: the earflaps of his hat were raised up and his cold red hands stuck from out the sleeves of his field jacket.

-          Let’s come to my place and go on there the conversation. – Achmet proposed.

            When they were approaching towards the house crew boss of the live-stock brigade Amanbeck passed them slowly. Even here Baimaken had his say on:

-          The horses are good but just look at them: they are not cleaned, their tails and forelocks are not shorn, and crests are matted – indiscipline and lack of culture.

            Amanbeck heard these words.

-          Don’t babble! – He cried while passing by. – Run about with your own business at first!  

            Achmet started laughing. It seemed that it was the first time when usual on Amanbeck’s lips “don’t babble” was said suitable for the occasion. But nevertheless Achmet saw right to come down Baimaken:

-          He just has such a habit. If you begin all your speeches with the word “discipline” then Baimaken starts everything with the words “don’t babble”.

            After showing Baimaken all his cattle and having tied the seep dog into its place Achmet led him to his place. In Achmet’s house just as in Shackyp’s one there were three rooms. The middle room was also filled with plank beds. It must be said that Achmet was the first one who had started using these plank beds. Having looked at them Baimaken asked:

-          What is there? After the fashion of Uzbeks?

-          When Beisen stops blurring the place of honour in the room with his dirty feet I will take away these plank beds at once, - Achmet answered having laughed. – Well, my dear, perhaps the water is already boiling, let’s have some tea, you know what a conversation can we make dry? My elderling said that she had left some boiled meat; it is just for us to have a snack. It can be I will find some vodka. Just help me, you know as for this I am like an ambilaevous one. It’s better not to touch my son, he is learning his lessons. Well, let’s got to the kitchen. Help me.

            They quickly cooked some food together and laid the table. After they sat at Achmet started the conversation:

-          It is already twelve o’clock but I have nothing in my mouth yet. – He said. – But why? I haven’t had a chance to make a way with work! You have said just now that I am a disciplined person, but can you really call this discipline – to stay hungry from the early morning?

-          Of course, you should both eat and rest in time.

-          But who will look after the cattle then? In the kitchen I have a full bucket of milk in front of the separator – our cow dropped a calf, I have to flow it through but when must I do this?

-          But people do this.

-          People do this by means of other work or they wear themselves out. And what for do I need this? I want to do my part and take enjoyment in this. If it were possible to give our cattle to the collective farm for keeping then it would be other thing.

-          But can the collective farm really trifle with the own cattle of the collective farmers? Even in the regulations there is nothing about this.

-          I see, my dear, that you also belong to the small fly like others. Shackyp sais: ‘It is already communism’ but my elderling is afraid: how can it be when her cattle will not be within her sight all the time? They both have hare souls! – Achmet heated up. – But I think so: the basis of the regulations is to create rich collective farms. And first and foremost this demands properly to use our labour and increase its efficiency all the time. If that labour which we use for looking after our own cattle now had been spent for a common case our collective farm would already have risen long age on the level of that mountain Shauyr. In such a case you wouldn’t also have to cry: “Discipline, discipline!”.

-          What do you want then? To destroy the own farms of collective farmers?

            Achmet crewed up his eyes and turned his back on Baimaken. He usually did so when a person he was talking to went against the hair. Sometimes Achmet could even turn his back on this person and go away.

-          Do you want to deform my thought? – He said. – Do you think: “There stands an uneducated, non-party old man in front of me and if I put the skids under to him he will flop at once”? No-o-o! I will never forget the words of the party about the fact that it is essential to liquidate collective farmers’ lack of cows. Now there is not a talk of to take away a collective farmer’s cow but of this cow not to gobble a good part of that labour which its owner can give to the collective farm. The last man in our collective farm is Beisen but even he has a cow and some calves. Think about: to depasture tens of thousands of heads of collective farmers’ cattle we need one and a half, no more than – two thousand people. So why is it required hundreds of people, the owners of this cattle, to depasture hundreds of heads of private collective farmers’ cattle? Why don’t we notice such malicious waste of our labour?

-          But what do you offer then?

-          I see you haven’t understood yet. If the farm takes my cattle then I agree to pay for the work of the farm howsoever if only to free my hands and time for other things.

-          But will all collective farmers really agree to live under such conditions?

-          Not all can agree. It is no good somebody to make. When I wanted to create “Shaitan-araba cart” everybody also laughed at me. But now I laugh at them. Early in the morning or late in the evening I drive on purpose by my motor cycle along the whole aul.

-          You will see, all the same Achmet will carry his point. If I don’t carry my point here I will go to the district. If it doesn’t support me then I will go to the region. My car is in order. And if I don’t get any support there I will fly by plane to Moscow.

-          Have you already talked to Shomart? – Baimaken asked.

-          Yes, I have. – Achmet answered. – But what can he do?

-          Then go to the district, - Baimaken interrupted him. – Otherwise, if you rely on Shackyp you will go to the bad.

            Nothing else he could advise Achmet. They cleared together the table and Baimaken went away. Achmet moved to the kitchen and poured out the milk into the separator. Having separated the whole bowl of cream Achmet decided to put it to the cellar and only after this clean the separator. The cellar was deep. Having gone downstairs for several steps Achmet made a reach for the bowl with cream and suddenly slipped and lost his balance. The bowl lunched and the cream ran onto his head.

-          Ah, damn you, such a shaitan! – He turned the air blue not knowing whom he meant. – That crowns all!

            Exactly to this moment Zylyha returned from the city. Having come into the kitchen she saw that the chest and the black beard of her husband were covered with cream and had grown white because of this. She started laughing:

-          My poor lamb! What’s up with you?

-          It is better for you not to come to me up! – Achmet boiled over. – How many times I have said to you that it would be better to get ready butter, without any fuss!

-          Then come and turn your cows in to the collective farm for storage if they take them. I am saying because you have drummed me into ears. I am fed up!

            Achmet went quiet. Zylyha helped him take off his shirt and give him to wash. After coming back into the room Achmet picked up his two-year-old daughter in his arms whom Zylyha had taken along…

-          Well, tell me, what’s the news? And show me what gifts you have brought.

-          I have teethed my mouth. – Zylyha said and opened her mouth. Earlier she failed two lower teeth and now at their place there sparkled two golden ones.

-          Well, it is everything all right with your mouth now, - Achmet said. – What else have you bought?

-          I have bought a piano. They will bring it tomorrow.

-          That is a good thing. The children will learn!

-          And where is this babbler Beisen? – Achmet asked some time later. – It seemed to me that he had gone with you.

-          He will come later; I have got by a car moving in the same direction.

            Zylyha opened her suit-case and started taking out the buying.

-          This is for our son and this is for our daughter, - she was speaking taking out now one then other thing. – And this is for me; - she said proudly and stretched Achmet a hat for woman.

            From her youth Zylyha was a great woman of fashion, she even had got a nickname “a girl with eight bracelets”. To say the truth now she wore only four bracelets but in return she was under the sway of another passion: if Zylyha saw at collective farmers’ places and especially in Shackyp’s family any new thing she could not rest till she bought the same one. The gramophone, the radio, the carpets spread on the place of honour – everything was here the same as in Shackyp’s house. Shanat had an astrakhan coat – and Zylyha had bought the same one in spite on the fact that she hadn’t ever put it on yet. She had the same gold watch as Shanat. All that was missing was just a piano and at last she bought it today. But Zylyha didn’t always understand what thing and whom suited. However, she didn’t even want to think about this. And today she didn’t also think if that new hat would suit her.

            Achmet twisted the hat into his hands.

-          Well, put it on, show me. You know I cannot make sense of it at all. – He said laughing and gave it to his wife.

            But when Zylyha took the kerchief off her head and put coquettishly the hat on Achmet couldn’t tutor himself any more and cried:

-          Take it away!

            He snatched the hat off her head and in a fit of anger threw it to the threshold. Although Achmet liked everything new, however, he always demanded that first of all the things must be serviceable and practical. But as for Zylyha so she always cared about her buys were more expensive and brighter.

-          You have to imitate with reason too, - Achmet always repeated to her. - To imitate everything what you see it is one of the marks of stupidity.

            Zylyha didn’t even open her mouth – in such cases she usually took him with her silence. Beisen came in creaking with his boots. He hardly stepped over the threshold and at once started speaking about one more Zylyha’s buying.

-          I wish this buying would bring happiness for you. This grey heifer is worthy of two your cows.

-          Stop, stop! What are you speaking about?

-          About the heifer.   

-          About what heifer?

-          Hasn’t Zylyha told you? We have bought a wonderful heifer in exchange for that cow what was gone. The God is merciful and if I show discrimination in cows then this heifer has no match.

-          E-e-eh, - Achmet interrupted him. – I see you are going to make from me that miserable Itbergen from the fairy tale who didn’t know both sleep and peace because of his cupidity.

            He stood up from his place and without saying a word started dressing.

-          Where are you going? – Zylyha distractedly looked up at him.

-          To the district. I have to make away with these cattle.

            And Achmet went to the door. Zylyha speedily jumped up and stood in the way of him.

-          Wait a while, listen to me, - she said. – During the war you gave one hundred thousand to the state, were I against? I can spare everything, you know. Thank Heavens, I live in plenty. But if I look at our yard and, God forbid, see that it is empty then it will mean only the one thing that my stomach is empty too. – Since my childhood I grew always having some cattle. I don’t see my life without it. But if you empty our yard out I will not have anything to take my hands in!

-          The leopard cannot change its spots! – And Achmet started laughing. – Then you too, go with your cattle to the farm.

-          Bah! If you give the cattle there it will not be ours.

-          Aha, - Beisen started speaking addressing to Achmet. – If it is difficult for you to look after all your cattle then let me help.

            Achmet unfriendly looked at Beisen:

-          What? What? Or don’t you have enough work in the collective farm? You’d better to go and help the collective farm. I don’t need any farmhands. Is the fact of the matter really that it is difficult for me to look after my cattle? You don’t understand, if I invest in the collective farm that labour which I give my cattle now then not only business of the collective farm but also mine will drastically start developing successfully. But Shackyp is afraid to make great progress; he is going around in a cycle.

            Having got hot under the collar at all Achmet interrupted his speech, waved with his hand and moved to the door. Zylyha grasped the flaps of his clothes.

-          Well, tell us at least how you are going to give our cattle to the collective farm!

-          I will be able to reach the agreement with the collective farm.

            And he came out.

            All the week Shanat was studying Shomart’s plan in spite on the fact that big thick books she usually looked through for twenty-four hours. Several times she reread his memorandum from point to point. The plan was written dry and laconically and it seemed to her that it was more exciting than the most intriguing novel. Right farming rotation, change of simple cattle with brood one, electrification of the collective farm – it seemed to her that that all was not their distant future but wonderful, already completed present. Shanat directed several circles in the collective farm, taught the history of the party and often delivered the reports about international situation. Each week she held the meeting of old men – experimenters. She was not only a children’s teacher but also she had to be a teacher and a mentor for grown-ups. She could not only impact her knowledge to others but also learn something from people. That is why she accepted Shomart’s ideas with such enthusiasm.

-          Clever, ah, what a clever man! – She repeated and her eyes were sparkling.

            She wished to share her joy with her father but one thought stopped her. “Don’t go, - she said to herself. – The father can interpret your joy in some other way”.

            The truth can run from people’s lips like a shower but sometimes bad rumors can be also spread by people as quick as a whirlwind. Since Alma had become blind not for one time in the aul there appeared conversations alike those ones which babble Beisen usually carried with Shanat’s mother. Both Alma and Shanat, and Shomart knew very well about these conversations. But each of them pretended as if he or she had heard nothing about this. They trusted all their secrets to each other but they couldn’t bring themselves to tell about this gossip. This was the thing what Shanat thought about when there appeared a wish to come to her father. She knew that not only Shomart’s plan went against Shackyp’s hair – he didn’t like Shomart as a person. Her father also heard the gossips that were retailed around the aul. But wasn’t it Shomart whom he was speaking at when he said Shanat: “If you find an unworthy friend or turn on a wrong way it will be painfully and hurtfully for me”. How brave and decisive she could be no mistake she would never break a Kazakhs’ time-honoured tradition to be respectful to elders and wouldn’t break this respect with a straight talk about her matters of the heart. However, this conscious, bias-free girl was thinking long about how to protect herself and at the same time not to offend her father. In her soul she had already prepared many hot words for explanation. But the more she thought over the forthcoming conversation the more clear she understood that no words could help her to express the father everything what she felt.

            From force of habit Shanat started walking around the room having crossed the hands behind her back and running fingers through the ends of her long hair.  

-          No, - she said at last, - I have to solve the question about plan by means of the party.

            After setting in order her writing-table Shanat gathered all papers and went to Shomart’s and Alma’s. She would like to see Alma who she hadn’t visited the whole week long and express Shomart her own opinion about the plan. Being excited and full of joy she quickly went along the street.

            Shomart went to work and only elderling Damet who had been known since her youth as a talkative and a very lively woman stayed with Alma. Russian men usually call such ones “battleaxe”. In Alma’s presence she tried to handle carefully herself and spoke to her mainly in a roundabout way and with allusions. Today they had the following conversation:

-          Grass cannot shake without wind, my dear, - Damet said softly.

            Alma was unquiet; she shivered as if somebody had hit her raw nerve.

-          Why do you say this, my elderling?

-          You are still stupid, my darling, - Damet answered. – Listen to me, I would like something to tell you, - and having sat Alma down nearby she started telling a well-known fairy tale about a guileful woman who had deceived her friend.

            Alma listened to the story till the end and it seemed to her that she had taken a sup of some sweet poison. She put on thinking cap and sighed deeply.

-          Do you want to say, my elderling, that Shanat is “guileful”? But we don’t have anything apart. These gossips can flare up like fire but I will withstand everything, - she said but it was possible to hear some sorrow in her voice.

            The old woman answered nothing. So they were sitting and keeping silent when there heard somebody’s fast steps behind the door. Merrily talking Shanat and Shomart came into the room.

-          You have a lack of businesslike manner, - Shanat said.

-          But it passed only one month since I had become a secretary, - Shomart answered.

-          But must you be a secretary for this? For example me, I have never been a secretary.

-          And it is very good that you haven’t, - Shomart answered laughing. – In this case you would force all of us into seven sweats.

            Having sat down sad Alma between them they plonked themselves down on the sofa. But when they embraced her from two sides and started saying her kind words interrupting each other Alma embraced them too and sighed deeply. Shanat noticed at once her friend’s state of mind.

-          Alechka, why do you sigh? – She asked.

-          Ah, I wish we would not unlock this embrace till the end of our lives! – Alma answered smiling sadly.

            She tried to speak quietly and kind. Shomart’s and Shanat’s looks met unwittingly with each other and at once they dropped their eyes. “Alma might have also heard this evil gossip” – each of them thought but neither Shanat nor Shomart decided to speak about this. And at all, how to talk about this? In the youth a tender shamefacedness covers the heart with a thin web and it is better not to touch it – that’s why we will not do this too. Let’s just listen to, what these three heroes were speaking about.

-          Is there a thing that could part us? – Shanat said after keeping silent for a while. – I don’t understand why you sigh so sadly, dear Alma. And if to say the truth I am glad that I don’t understand.

-          Only death can part us. Alechka might have been thinking about this, - Shomart interrupted her.

            Alma embraced them both even stronger and kissed each of them. They could hear deep trouble in her voice.

-          Your words sound pathetically. But I am very, very glad… Let’s forget it… Let’s speak about something other. What were you disputing about when you came in?

            Shanat and Shomart brightened up at once.

-          Shanat liked my plan. She proposes to discuss it in the partbureau (party bureau). But I don’t know is it possible to raise this question now?

-          Earlier you didn’t raise it because of your assurance, - Shanat said. – But what hinders you to do this now? You know any party organization always has its right to express its own opinion. And the district hasn’t approved the decision of the general meeting yet.

-          And what do we have from the fact that it hasn’t approved yet? I already know about their opinion.

-          Shanat is right, - Alma chipped in interrupting Shomart. – The party organization must express its opinion about such an important question.

            Shomart didn’t argue any more. They decided that exactly that day he would put the plan forward for discussion by the bureau of the party organization. Shomart personally would be a speaker and Shanat and Alma took in their hands to draw up a draft decree.

            In the evening at eight o’clock in the secretary’s study of the collective farm party organization there gathered all members of the bureau: Shomart, crew boss Baimaken who had been recently demobilized, Shackyp, Shanat and stakhanovite Ishack. Alma, the crew boss of the live-stock brigade Dmanbek and pig-tender old man Baimagambet were also invited to visit this meeting.

            Shomart read out the agenda.

-          Although behindhand, - he said, - but we have decided that we have to bring up the question about the plan for discussion by the bureau.

-          But one time the plan has been discussed already, - Shackyp contradicted. – Will we always reevaluate our former decisions each time when we change a secretary? 

            Everybody kept silent. Even Shomart didn’t find what to answer Shackyp. Now Shackyp’s plan was approved both by the party and by the general collective farm meeting. They had just to wait for the final approval of this plan in the district.

            It was difficult to speak out against Shackyp and contest his plan approved by the majority. Only Shanat objected to her father:

-          We must discuss Shomart’s plan, Shacke. You see, this is a matter of argument and earlier it wasn’t discussed in the bureau. Will it be justly if after considering your plan we disregard Shomart’s one? This plan may be not worth a row of pins. Then let the bureau say about this. And its discussion does not contradict the tradition of the party at all.

            Shackyp who usually stuck to his decisions grounded arms this time. However, it was just an artifice from his side. Firstly, he didn’t want to offend his daughter; secondly, he thought that two members of the bureau – Shanat and Ishack – were his people. That is why Shackyp hoped to defeat Shomart and Baimaken with their help; thirdly, he was sure in the district’s supply. “It will be even better if the plan is discussed now, - he thought. - They will not balk after this any more”.

            Shomart got perturbed, his speech didn’t look like a report, - and it seemed to be an exciting story. And when Shomart showed pictures and diagrams making come to life dull numbers even Shackyp lifted his head and unwittingly listened to his words. On one of the diagrams there were represented some cows of Simmental, Orlovsky, red Swedish and Kazakh breed. In comparison with high bred cows Kazakh’s one looked like a calf. Milk yield of bred cows was shown in barrels and milk yield of Kazakh cow found its room in a bucket. After looking at this diagram Amanbeck asked:

-          For example, our Kazakhs say: cow-mow. So, where is here a cow and where is here a mow?

            Not having understood his question Shomart was perplexedly keeping silent and Amanbeck himself answered his question:

-          It turns out that exactly these three cows are real cows and as for our collective farm cow – it is nothing, just a mow. Only now I have understood this.

            Everybody started laughing except Shackyp who noticed with mockery:

-          For that one who is spoiled with good food even mutton seems rotten and for a jumped-up the sky puts pressure on the top of his head.

            Shomart took into his hands the map of the collective farm lands and showed it to the gathered people. This map was plotted anew. Huge massifs covered with sowings delighted the eye. The fields that were sown according to all rules of farming rotation were divided into grain, grass and horticultural parts.

-          Each matter demands strict abidance by rules. Wrong work is water which is poured onto sand. But farmland that is cultivated according to all rules is kind like a careful mother – it will give both eat and drink. Our people say: “If you manage to pile snow sensibly you will be able to set even a snowdrift on fire”. There is a great philosophy in this saying. The world isn’t made of identical bricks; you should be able to fit them together. This is an eternally new task of a human-creator. I think that it is a mark of an undeveloped thought to consider ourselves satisfied with what we have.

            Shackyp couldn’t tutor himself again and said with mockery:

-          Collective farmers don’t deal with the philosophy but do real work. A real good piece of bread is more expensive than the brightest thought.

-          Then what is the difference between a human and an animal in, to your mind? – Shomart asked. – I see, you do not understand others. Even yourself you cannot understand.

            And Shomart passed on to the third part of his report.

            He turned back and showed one more project to the members of the partbureau, a project of a new aul. It was an aul of their future with transformed, almost unrecognizable suburbs. In the streets that were thickly planted with trees there towered posts of electrical power lines. In the middle of the aul there ran a high road. It stretched up to the neighbour collective farm and then passed into an earth-road. The blacksmith’s shop and cattle yards were drawn on a separate sheet of paper. Both about-sledges and bellows were operated automatically in the blacksmith’s shop. Then in the project there were shown flakes of fire flying from under the about-sledges. And only one blacksmith operated all this complicated blacksmith’s property. In the cattle yards water itself ran to the livestock buildings, cows were milked with the help of electricity and only somewhere it was possible to see some people’s figures.

-          This all is not just a dream, - Shomart said in conclusion. – We will have this in the nearest future. Even food we will cook with the help of electricity. The basin of the river Nura will provide with water not only Karaganda and Temirtau but also it will be able to satisfy our needs. It is right time now, comrades, when our collective farm must rise on the next stage of our wealth and culture – on the stage of household activities and labour electrification.  

            Crew boss Baimaken broke loudly into applause.

            Old man Baimaganbet lifted his hand with gnarled fingers and asked to say some words.

-          Don’t forget about pigs, don’t forget about, - he said. – Pig houses also need electro, albeit piggy but electro.

-          We will have everything, Backe, pig houses will also have electricity, - Shomart calmed him down.

-          Well, then it is a good plan, a real plan. – The old man said and dropped on his place.

            Everybody liked the report… Nobody could contradict against the arguments that were approved with many numbers… However, it seemed that it was easier to break through a mountain than Shackyp’s obstinacy.

-          I will not give up on the plan that was adopted by the general meeting of the collective farmers. This plan will be approved in the district. Anyway, if somebody of you relies on his or her own efforts that one can go against, - he said and sat down having bent his brows.

            He believed in the power of his authority very much. It was because up to now nobody contested his words – never, not only in the collective farm but also in the district. And now it couldn’t even cross his mind that he might be defeated. And when it came to voting (at first they voted for or against Shackyp’s plan) Shackyp lifted his hand and said loudly:

-          Here is my hand. – And as if he asked: “Who will dare not to follow me?” encircled all present people with his searching glance.

            But only Ishack followed him and lifted his hand.

            Shackyp grew red when they voted for the new plan. He saw that Shanat having dropped down her eyes had voted together with Shomart and Baimaken. It seemed to Shackyp that he had slipped and fallen down having banged hurtfully with the back of his head. However, he didn’t loose control.

-          Well, - he quietly pronounced. – Now it is my turn to apply to the district.

 

7

            All night long Shackyp couldn’t sleep a wink. He didn’t say a word to his family. In the last days he caught cold and now lying in the bed coughed from time to time. He loved Shanat hot and was offended at her.

-          I don’t have a son, - Shackyp thought. – He would never do this. And it is known already long age that a girl is born for a foreign family.

            But it was strange: among the angriest thoughts about Shanat suddenly he remembered now one then another her good deed. “Believe me, father, here is a secret that you have to riddle by yourself”, - he seemed Shanat said embracing him. And up to the very break of day Shackyp was searching for a key but he didn’t find it. Anyway, it seemed to him that with the help of his plan “super-fast” Shomart wanted to spill the bowl full of the collective farm wealth and after coming over Shackyp’s head tread down long-term enduring collective farmer’s labour that only now started reaping big rewards.

            In spite of the sleepless night Shackyp got up being hale and hearty. Having washed hastily and without breakfast at the crack of dawn he left the house, mounted his horse and rode to the district.  

            Although long ago it had become already a tradition around here to go by a droshky harnessed with a pair of horses even this time Shackyp didn’t tackle up his red horses. They were served only for honorable guests and as for him so both in winter and in summer he rode astride his well-managed round like a rolling pin dark-bay palfrey. And now the chestnut brought smoothly his owner. Shackyp sat straight, not slouching and having strained the stirrups to the full. There were about thirty-forty kilometers to the district and soon Shackyp already stopped his horse at Yesshan’s house.

            Yesshan’s family was just going to sit at the table and have their morning tea. Having seen Shackyp Yesshan rushed to him and helped take his clothes off. After greeting friendly he sat Shackyp down at the table and started asking him about collective farm affairs.

-          Have you already finished repair works?

-          Yes, we have.

-          And what about grain?

-          All grain has been cleaned and sorted.

-          And what about draft cattle?

-          Everything is all right, the horses are in flesh, and we have arranged a special tendance for them.

-          What a good fellow, Shacke! – Yesshan said. – It means that you have finished all your affairs and now you decided to have a rest and take a walk. I’ll tell you what! Singer Shusupbeck is coming today. He will give a concert. Stay at our place, let’s listen to.

-          I have come to your place with my own concert, - Shackyp said.

            Yesshan questioningly looked at his guest.

-          What a concert do you have?

-          Still the same one: Shomart and his group again. This dispute about the plan doesn’t give me any chance to lift my head. I insist on the district’s regulations, defend the view of the majority – then no, he wants us to approve his plan – that’s all. I tried to contradict him – and what? This fellow took me by my beard, brought me down and came over my head!

            Yesshan interrupted him:

-          And what? Was Shomart’s plan approved?

-          Yesterday in the evening this plan was taken up by the partbureau, so, it means that it was approved.

-          Let’s go to Satan. – Yesshan said and started quickly dressing.

            The secretary of the party district executive committee was sitting at the table and looking through the morning post. He lost himself in the reading of some paper and didn’t notice the incomers. But having hardly come over the threshold Yesshan started loudly to speak without greeting:

-          Shacke has come. This Shomart lets nobody work in “Amangeldy”.

            Satan lifted his head, greeted the incomers and asked slowly:

-          What’s the matter?

-          Shomart has put through his plan in the bureau of the party organization. – It’s scandalous! He hasn’t wait for the decision of the district and gone against the general meeting of the collective farm. To my mind, we should give Shomart a good hammering for such actions.  

-          But I think we have to thank both Shomart and the bureau, - Satan said and held Yesshan out the paper which he had read right then.

            Yesshan read, shook with his head, clucked his tongue and being confused dropped on a chair.

-          There is no sense to shake your head, you have to nod in sight of your approval, - Satan said. – It is our guilt that we haven’t appreciated Shomart’s plan in time. You see, it is said in the letter of the regional committee: “Shomart’s plan – it is the start for a new rise of the collective farm movement”. It means that we are guilty because we were slow with the approval of the plan. And now we must correct our mistake and clean a wide road for this movement.

            Shackyp and Yesshan were sitting having dropped their heads down and without saying a word. Satan repeated after looking at them:

-          Yes, this new thought has won here. And now if this plan doesn’t come to life then not Shomart will be guilty but we with you together. Now we don’t have to think about the fact that we were mistaken but about the fact how to implement his plan. The decision of the party organization bureau must be discussed in the general meeting of the collective farmers tomorrow. You, Yesshan, must convene a presidium meeting today, and as for you, Shacke, first and foremost you have to return to the collective farm and go about the work.

            Shackyp went out keeping silent. He had come hastily but he had to return even faster. The day was frosty. The good-managed horse rushed smoothly like flowing quick silver along the traffic-bound road raising, as people say, whirls in front and leaving storm behind. Shackyp’s brows were covered with hoar, tears sparkled on his cheeks. Having slapped deeply his hat with three ear-flaps on the head he was riding through the wide steppe and suddenly his voice thundered like a disquiet cry of a white-headed camel-chieftain:

-          That’s a wonder! Does it mean if Shomart doesn’t fulfill his plan I will be guilty again?

            When Shackyp got home Shanat who had just returned from school was sitting in her room. Shackyp didn’t come to his room but turned to his daughter’s. Surprised Shanat jumped up and helped him take the clothes off.

-          It is cold today. You might have felt chilly, Shacke, might not you? – She asked. – Perhaps you would like me to bring you some warm clothes?!

-          No, I haven’t felt chilly, my dear, - Shackyp answered. – Today all night long I was accusing you in my heart and my soul grew black because of these accusations. But now my soul has become white again. And I have come to you to admit my guilt. It turned out that you had foreseen everything, my white long-sighted goshawk, - and having kissed his daughter he pressed her to his heart.

            There appeared babble Beisen in the doors. He was annoyed very much. Being still at the threshold he started crying:

-          Am I a collective farmer or a stranger? Why does crew boss Baimaken sock it to me like a cock all the time? If our forty yards of clan Sarmantai cannot stand up to nobody but him, a Murat’s extraneous offspring, then let him at once drive us away from our native land. Take it or leave it, but to live under his heel I don’t want!

-          Calm down, calm down. Than to count ears of Murat’s and Sarmantai’s people you’d better to count your workday units. – Shackyp noticed with a grin.

-          There now! At every trifle you start speaking about my workday units. I will not die from hunger even if I stop working at all. I wish just our collective farm would live smoothly. It will care about Beisen.

-          Stop babbling. – Shackyp interrupted him. – We know very well about your work for the benefit of the nation. Say better: why have you disputed?

            Beisen looked back at Shanat and she having understood that he didn’t want to speak at her presence left the room.

-          “If you rely on Shackyp as on the God, - Baimaken said me, - and think that he is all powerful then let your God Shackyp try at first to restrain his only daughter”. Yes, he has said exactly this. That’s why I have given loose to my tongue too. Listen, Shacke, - Beisen added in a low voice, - Shanatshan was always a shy girl. What has come over her? The whole collective farm is buzzing about this.

            Beisen interpreted Baimaken’s words in his own way; - he decided that Baimaken hinted at the relations between Shanat and Shomart. But Baimaken saying: “Let him at first try to restrain his own daughter”, just meant the fact that Shanat had gone against Shackyp in the meeting of the bureau and taken Shomart’s side.

-          I say you, don’t babble in vain. Say me better, why have you disputed? – Shackyp repeated angrily.

-          He molested me: “He says why it is designated for you so little snow in the lot?” He has got into a rage, isn’t he? Or does he think that it was I who had created both earth and snow, and blizzard, - as if it depends on me!

-          It means that your work has some lacks.

-          No, I say you; he has just dug me in. He says: “You are rubbing elbows with Shackyp”. Do you know how he calls you? A black heavy stone, a black trap! How can I tutor myself here and not to chafe at?

-          That’s enough, - Shackyp interrupted him having lost his patience. – I am tired after my journey. Let’s speak tomorrow, but now go away.

            Going away Beisen went on mumbling under his nose:

-          This Shomart troubles everybody and what is more he aims to become a fiancé.

            After staying alone Shackyp felt that Beisen’s words had upset him very much. To say the truth he often quarreled with Baimaken but he had never heard such slanderous words from him. When Shanat came into the room having looked at her father she understood at once that there had happened some trouble.

-          What has he said you here? – She asked.

-          A stupid friend is more dangerous than a clever enemy, - Shackyp replied shortly and they resumed the interrupted conversation.

-          It looks like Shomart’s plan is approved in the region. – Shackyp said. – Both to admit this is painful for me and it is impossible not to agree with this. What to do?

            After thinking for a short time Shanat answered:

-          Shomart’s plan – is a difficult plan. And if you insufficiently believing in it start enforcing it then you can tangle. But if you don’t admit it and stay alone then you will be guilty in the eyes of the whole nation. To my mind, not to loose you authority you should transfer to another appointment.

            Sitting in the rocking chair he was listening to her and closed his eyes as if he were in drowsiness. Shanat couldn’t understand was he really dreaming being tired because of the sleepless night and fast riding or he was lost in his restless thoughts. She attentively peered at her father’s old face ploughed with wrinkles and it seemed to her that each wrinkle was a print of the long and difficult way. “The father worked for us, - she thought. – And we, a young lifeful generation, must appreciate this and take care of him”.

            It was silent in the heated room and only window shutters crackled from time to time because of severe frost. A bright kitten was playing with its tail trying unsuccessfully to catch it. There heard some steps behind the door – this was Irysshan who returned from the work.

            It passed some more time and Shackyp opened slowly his eyes.

-          Well, - he said, - iron can be worn out too. I might have been worn out too. Fifteen years long I haven’t known any rest. It is right time to give place to. Write a notice…

 

Part two

1

            There started rarely appearing keen frosts and snow storms. Long March days stroked with their warm palm the wide back of Saryarka, a yellow flatland, that was stretching from the Urals to the Altai. There grew black the first small thaw hole on the white slope of mountain Shauyp turned to the sun like a black beauty spot on a white body. People and cattle who had missed warm and the sun were busily messing around on the southern protected against wind side of the valley. Transparent icicles hung down from the eaves of the houses.  

            Shomart, a new chairman of the collective farm, had blue glasses today on to protect his eyes against the discomfort glare of snow. He had to crisscross much. For example, now after visiting Karaganda and Temirtau he was returning home being tired and glad. His journey was successful. The fast run of his dark-grey horse who was smoothly rushing the small sledge along the level road and shaking with its crest from time to time, a joyful song that was sounding from out Shomart’s mouth all over the wide steppe – everything said about the fact that he was merry that day. The region gave two lorries, two blooded horses, three well bred servicing bulls and twenty-five brood cows for the collective farm. And when it comes the time for field works they promised to add some tractors and combines. Moreover, Shomart had won the approval from the Temirtau’s power station to make a line tap from the high voltage power line to the collective farm. For this all he immediately needed about half million rubles. But there was not such a sum in the collective farm now. The old year was over and the new one hadn’t brought any incomes yet. After long thinkings and calculations Shomart decided to cut and sell to Karaganda a part of cullet cattle. In such a way he didn’t reduce livestock population in the collective farm and at the same time he upgraded its quality. The funds raised with the help of the sold meat gave Shomart a possibility to fulfill the whole program planned by him. After calculating everything Shomart decided that it would be possible to perform both sowing and electrification works at the same time. That’s why it was essential immediately to prepare carefully all necessary things for the difficult spring company while the collective farmers were still free from the field works. Then to finish all electrification works before the sowing as well as between the sowing and grain crop harvesting. Having added all his thoughts together Shomart rejoiced so much as if he had discovered some new grazing lands for the collective farm. That is why he was singing so loudly and his song spread out afar.   

            Amanbeck, the crew boss of the livestock brigade, heard this song: he was moving towards Shomart. His chestnut horse with a white mark on its forehead was harnessed in the plain sledge. Old man Baimagambet, a pig-tender, and babble Beisen were going with Amanbeck in the sledge too. The chestnut was walking lazily moving its hoofs. Already from afar Shomart recognized Amanbeck by their slow walk and restrained his horse. Amanbeck didn’t like to burn up. “What for to murder draft cattle?” – He said. And as soon as Shomart stopped having come up to him Amanbeck got out from the sledge and tapped Shomart’s dark-grey house on the neck. Then he walked it around. The horse was gasping for air.

-          Tisk, tisk! – Amanbeck started mumbling angrily. – You don’t know the price of horse’s sweat; that is not of water!

            Shomart started laughing taking a drag off a cigarette:

-          That was you who gave me on purpose such a sweaty horse… I see you have harnessed a not perspirable one. Just look at your chestnut – not a hair is stuck together.

-          If you have whipped all sweat of this grey one off then you would drag out the soul of my chestnut. Do you know an old saying: “If you have become an owner – holler at everybody”? You do the same: do you think that if you have become a chairman then you have a right to overwork a horse? Who is responsible for them? Use a little sense!

-          You are responsible. I knew what you would say and that is why I have got two more machines for the collective farm, - Shomart said proudly and looked at Amanbeck – will he be glad?

-          But where are brood cows? – Amanbeck asked.

-          I have got twenty-five heads and three servicing bulls in addition.

            Amanbeck brightened up.

-          Where are you going in such a crowd? – Shomart asked playfully.

-          To collective farm “October”. – Amanbeck replied. – You know I compete with Badanbeck. That’s why I would like to see what draft cattle they have.

-          And as for you, Backe? It seems to me that you don’t like to leave you house.

-          That’s right, my dear, right, - Baimagambet answered. – But people say that they have pigs of special breed. So I want to look at them with my own eyes.

-          Look, look good, we will provide a good care for them. They will withstand any pressure. But one more thing: think about the care because except me nobody wants to think about this. All these beisens just grimace and say: “They are bad”. But is the money which is given for them bad? And if they are afraid so much to fall from grace why do they drink vodka then? Ah, a trifling conversation!

            Beisen who was sitting right there in the sledge answered nothing for this. Nobody knew what for and where Beisen was going. Since Shackyp quitted the position of a chairman Beisen was gloomy all the time. And now from time to time he looked askance at Shomart and wrinkled his face.

-          Beisecke, and you, where are you going? – Shomart asked him.

-          I have my wife’s and my own relatives there. I would like to visit them and make a stay for some time there.

-          Tisk, tisk, Beisecke! – Amanbeck rebuked him. – You have put your foot in it again. You have said that you are going on business. But is it good to go on visit?

            Amanbeck got in his sledge. Shomart started laughing, got in his sledge and pointed Beisen onto the place near him.

-          Sit down here, - he said to Beisen. – We have some urgent matters in the collective farm.

            And Beisen had to turn back. When they drove off they heard the hollo of old man Baimaganbet:

-          Remember! Don’t forget about the electro for pigs! – He remembered.

            Beisen started acidly chuckling. To his mind it was just a stupidity to look after pigs and lay on electricity to the pig house to boot.

-          A shallow person always stays shallow even if he swims in oil. – He said. – This Baimaganbet as to hogged earlier pigs down in Russian villages and now he hogs down, but he is the same stupid.

            But Shomart took him down a peg:

-          We think, Beisecke, if a person works, makes him or herself useful and brings positive results for our native land then such one is clever. But that one who provides benefit to nobody – then he or she is a fool. Both intellect and stupidity “are measured by usefulness and harm that are brought to the society”. Just look at Baimaganbet in such a light.

-          You have cut me down without a knife, my dear fiancé, - Beisen said and sighed deeply. – Well, let it be: Baimaganbet is clever but I am a fool, you are clever and we are stupid.

-          I don’t understand you. About what fiancé are you speaking and who are these – “we”?

            But Beisen kept silent, his lips were shivering from time to time. Shomart looked at him and shook his head.

            After being silent for some time he said:

-          If these are the words which you shouldn’t say then what for have you said them? Or may it be that you have just blundered out?

-          Yes, it may.

-          That’s what it is! These were bad words.

-          That’s enough! – Beisen suddenly started not being able to tutor himself any more. – Just yesterday you had come here having only a suit-case on your shoulder. Shackyp had helped you marry, set up some cattle and get a roof over your head. But today you were not ashamed to throw this old man away from the place of honour and sit there down by yourself. And I see that it is not enough for you. You also want to take his only daughter. I haven’t seen such a fiancé for all my long life. I wish my tongue would dry out if it is not the truth that Shanat and Alma are bewitched.

            Shomart felt tingles down his spine. “That is who builds up fire between his wife and Shanat! Between him personally and Alma! It turns out that is the firebrand from which there comes out stinky smoke! If not to water this firebrand in time then it can flare up huge fire”. – Shomart thought. But not knowing what to do he grew now red than white and at last feeling annoyed with himself he said:

-          I thought that you are just a simple-minded babbler! But it turns out that you are a slanderer. Well, if you want to draw troubles upon yourself you can continue to do this.

            Having brought Beisen home Shomart restrained the horse and said:

-          I have a task for you: chop eight cartful of ice for the collective farm cellar. Go!

            While that one moving by a narrow margin was slowly getting out from the sledge the horse hotted by the fast ride gave a wrench and rushed forward. Beisen slipped and slid on the hardened snow. But angry Shomart didn’t even notice this. He stopped the horse only at his house.

            There were heard sounds of violin from there. A new, just dawning tune like a nestling tried to fly up having still weak wings, then felt and died down. Shomart didn’t know why but he calmed down at once and he felt light-hearted. He opened soundlessly the door and carefully treating came into the room. Carried away by the music Alma didn’t notice that he had come and he was sadly keeping his eye on her. Alma either sang or spoke in a low voice to herself. From time to time over her tender thin face there ran some kind of a shadow like a lipper that usually shakes a flat surface of water by each breath of wind. In these moments her voice strained. It seemed that an unnoticeable spring started spouting even stronger.

-          There is nothing more wonderful than feelings. I have seen but haven’t understood. And now I see, I see again. – She dropped down the violin.

-          Alma! – Shomart called her softly.

-          Shomart!

            They ran towards each other.

-          Well, what have you returned with? – Alma asked at last.

-          I have got everything we need.

            Alma slid out of his embrace and started dancing. In such a way people usually dance in Russian villages and Alma didn’t know herself why she remembered exactly this swashbuckling dance. Already for a long time Alma wasn’t so merry. Her joyfulness animated Shomart. He seemed that his lost happiness had returned to him again.

-          I am working at the tune “Kun-shuak”¹ now. – Alma said. – It must be an absolutely new tune. It will express neither grief nor annoyance, nor melancholy and nor guile. Only cloudless sunny life. It is very difficult to catch its rhythm. It differs from all those rhythms which I knew. I haven’t heard anything more wonderful than it. Ah, I wish I would meet with a real composer!

-          What could hinder this meeting? – Shomart answered quickly. – If doctors were not able to return your sense of sight then perhaps people of art will help you to grasp the power and sweets of life with the help of your imagination.

            Alma expressed her cherished dream – to become a composer and go to Almaty for this again to meet with an experienced musician. Not for one time she poised in her mind all circumstances and said each time to herself: “I have no opportunity”. But now after Shomart’s words this wish appeared in her heart again and she understood that her dream could become true. However, Shomart’s rush agreement for her departure made her remember the allusions of elderling Damet. And although Alma said many times to herself that she would not fall for jealousy ever on this side of the grave some black thoughts unwittingly came into her mind.

-          No, let’s adjourn this journey for the present. – She said and it was possible to hear some sorrow in her voice. – Shackyp truly sits quietly at home but when once you make a muff of something he will say at once: “I have said”. Don’t digress because of me. You’d better to put your affairs in order. It will come right time and I will go either with you or with Shanat. You know now I cannot find alone a right way anywhere.

¹Kun-shuak – a cloudless day

            Not having hunch about Alma’s mistrusts Shomart answered:

-          Don’t worry about me, my dear. Shackyp is not my enemy. But even if a real enemy could twist my arms even then I wouldn’t stop thinking about your dreams and wishes. Otherwise, what a price could our love have then? Don’t worry about my affairs. I am not alone here but with people. You know these people, they are habituated to work. It is required just to find a person who could accompany you.

-          We need both a person and much money for this journey. But our family is still young; it will be difficult for us to do this.

-          I think the collective farm will take the costs of your trip upon itself.

-          Is it possible?

-          Why not? The collective farm must help its talented children wherever they go to work – even in the branch of art. And especially if they are in trouble. And as soon as you fulfill your dream I will give our collective farm club into your hands. Then you can organize in it even an opera theatre.

            Shomart stood up and went to the kitchen. – There was boiling a kettle on the stove. Damet went somewhere away and Shomart himself made tea and invited Alma to the table.

-          I started forgetting at all my kind student’s life. I have turned into a real mistress, - Alma sadly said sitting down and touching the table. – What is there on the table now?

-          There is some white bread and some butter. Jam, sugar, candies and cookies – everything is here. Even a bottle of port wine. And here is some snacks.

-          What kind of snacks?

-          Sausage made of Backe’s pets’ meat.

-          And what about Russian salad?

-          Sorry, I’ll bring it now.

            Shomart stood up, brought a plate with Russian salad and put it on the table. Having put everything in front of Alma he took care of her as if she were a little child.

-          You are so happy, Shomart! You can see me. Ah, I wish to look at you at least for one time. – Alma said.

            Shomart couldn’t answer anything to her. Well, if Alma had missed Shomart’s face so much already long ago so Shomart painfully wanted to feel at her clever, tender and heartfelt look of her bright eyes. With the help of doctors Shomart tried to do everything to return this look to him. “The science has created many wonders, but it is unable at all to light up these eyes for me again!” – Shomart thought and his heart pinched him. He couldn’t begin the conversation and Alma understood his spirit.

-          Has your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth? – She started laughing. – Don’t hang down your head in vain. Anyway, I see you. And not only you, I see all our soviet world. Sea waves can wash out a granitic cliff but nothing is able to wash the picture of our wonderful life out of my heart. I have been shown the world and only after this I was taken away my eyes. And as for me so I am not pleased with myself, because I cannot forge friendship with “Kun-shuak” at all.     

            Elderling Damet came back. They didn’t know where she had been and what she had listened to but she bent her brows very angrily. She composedly greeted with Shomart, sat down at the table and immediately struck into their conversation.

-          I seemed that Shanat had come in here?!

-          No, elderling, she hasn’t come here, - Alma replied.

-          I see she started rarely to come here. Perhaps she has hard feelings about her father’s reputation.

-          If you, my elderling, have missed her then let’s call her. I have missed too.

-          Oh, everything is simple for you, my dear, - the old woman pronounced expressively.

            Already long ago Alma and Shomart started understanding the sense of her allusions. They hid their conjectures from each other and preferred to keep silent. To stop the gossips Shanat started rarely to visit Alma and tried to meet Shomart as rare as possible. But it didn’t help too. Babbler Beisen and elderling Damet couldn’t calm down and went on swelling the gossips.

            Having noticed that the old woman had quarrelsome spirit Shomart said that he had some work and went away.

            Having come to the executive committee he asked the secretary at once to call their collective farm bookkeeper.

-          Say him to bring the calculations of workday units, - Shomart cried after.

            He was habituated to move much and now he felt that his body became numb after non-natural long sitting at first in the sledge and then at the table at home. Just to limber up somehow he started walking around the room.

            Keeping a thick folder with papers under his arm bookkeeper Aidar hurry-scurry came into the office. At first sight he seemed to be loud but if to take the measure of him it was not difficult to notice some kind of alertness in his eyes. He greeted pleasingly Shomart and asking about the journey started setting up his papers.

-          Was your journey successful? – He spoke bending. – I see you are not merry. Aren’t you ill?

-          Have you been working long here? – The chairman interrupted his inquiries.

-          Both my hair and my beard have grown grey here. It is already the thirtieth year long since I have been working here.

-          Do you have the education of a bookkeeper?

-          No, my dear, everything in practice, just in practice. Earlier I worked as a clerk in the volost’s administration; you know they fed me by halves. But my eyes have opened only now!

-          Is it the truth that you learned in a gymnasium?

-          Yes, it is, my dear, - Aidar said with a fawning smile. – It was the time when Kazakh’s kids were involuntary taken in Russian schools. You know that bais’ sons didn’t go. That is why they sent poor men’s children and me too among them. I went to learn being steeped in tears but now I laugh merrily.

            Aidar was telling absolutely not about the facts which Shomart wanted to know. Under Shackyp’s direction it was so: if Aidar had said nobody dared to contradict him. A mouse does not have any more dangerous enemy than a cat. And for Shackyp too there was not any more educated person in the world than a bookkeeper. If Aidar said: “It is not legal”, Shackyp didn’t dare even to open his mouth at once. In spite of all his experience Shackyp felt helpless in front of any paper with numbers. Under Shackyp’s direction Aidar lived like a fighting cock and tried to contribute the old chairman with all his force. Since his first work days in the collective farm Shomart saw that the bookkeeper wound the chairman round his little fingers and could hardly tutor himself not to come in between them. But now he made Aidar run ambling. Aidar who had seen much in his lifetime had noticed strict disposition of the new chairman already long ago and now he tried to run away like an old wolf covering up tracks.

-          Collective farmers’ fortune – these are their workday units. That is why I would like to see how you keep tab on labour; - Shomart said and took the folder from under bookkeeper’s hands.

            Aidar’s eyes restlessly moved from the papers to Shomart and back and couldn’t stop at last at.

-          Well, I see you keep tab on not very bad, - Shomart noticed in some time.

            Aidar brightened up. But his joy didn’t last long. Shomart underlined one line with a pencil and put aside a big question mark. Aidar bent to the table and grew white having seen what that question mark referred to. The question mark stood near Beisen’s surname. It seemed to Aidar that that question mark was a firm bludgeon that had hurtfully smacked him upside the head.

-          Is this note true? – Shomart asked and looked examiningly at the bookkeeper.

-          I think it is true. Yes, yes, true.

-          Bring me the general documents.

            Aidar obediently went away to bring the documents. But whatever documents he would bring all the same it was impossible to justify the workday units scored for Beisen. According to Aidar’s records it was scored a lot of workday units for Beisen. But Shomart knew very well that Beisen hadn’t worked even one month long from among three ones of the new year. And here even if a khan turned into a stake and a biy¹ – into a beater as an old Kazakh’s saying says all the same Shomart couldn’t believe Aidar. And when Shomart was sitting being deep in his thoughts and waiting for Aidar step by step the truth of the old saying started opening to him: “It might be that sweet Aidar had let down poor Shackyp not for a one time” – Shomart thought making sure even more in the rectitude of his former insights.

            Aidar came in, he was red and sweaty. He brought the general documents. These were strikethrough, corrected and wrinkled papers. It was impossible to find out who had corrected and struck them through. It was clear only one thing – they were counterfeited.

-          All these data are given to me by the crew boss and check men. While I was puzzling out this confusion my hair grew grey on my head. – Aidar said pleasingly.

            Shomart started laughing in a low voice.

-          You might have tangled yourself while puzzling out this confusion, might not you?

-          No, my dear, I haven’t tangled. For thirteen years anybody has ever found no negative attributes in my reports. Shackyp knows me very well.

-          I start getting to learn you too, - Shomart said and locked the folder with the documents in the drawer. – You are free. You can go.

-          Am I free, you say, my dear?

-          Yes, free, you are absolutely free. The collective farm doesn’t need your help any more.

            Aidar asked about nothing more. Shomart was keeping silent too.

2

            Shackyp was lying in his room. Having leant his elbows against the pillow he was reading a news paper. In spite of his age Shackyp could still easily read without any glasses. On the low table which was standing in front of his bad there foamed home beer in a big drinking bowl. From time to time Shackyp took several sips. The sun brightly lit the nickel bed and because of this it was even lighter and cozier in the room.

¹Biy – a generic judge

            Shackyp put the newspaper aside and rubbed his eyes.

-          Irysshan! – He loudly called his wife.

            After hearing the call Irysshan who was in the neighbour room at the time came silently in.

-          Why does nobody come to our place today? – Shackyp asked. – What’s up? Have all died?

-          Somebody will come! You know Beisen will obviously come. – Irysshan said.

            The hall door opened at that minute.

-          Here he is, - she added smiling.

            However, it turned out that it was not Beisen but watchman Mamet. He took his felt boots in the hallway off, slipped out his fur coat and entered Shackyp’s room being barefooted and in a jacket. Old man Mamet had a thin beard, a meager face like a dried up tree and he walked hunched up. Having seen him Shackyp started even laughing from enjoyment.

-          Hey, what is this? Has anybody robbed you? – He joked.

-          Well, when I come in the clothes you say that it is disorder. But when I take my clothes off then you call me a robbed one. And what about you? Why are you lying here? Has anybody stunned you with a club? Or have you perhaps born a child? What a sluggard I see here!

-          I can lie down or stand up if I want. It’s my will. I have brought my aul to the summer pasture-lands. Now even if you rattle with a beater the whole night long or crack with your tongue all day long all the same Shackyp will not do a stroke of work.

-          Don’t get above yourself; all the same you’ll fail to become an arrogant person – Nurmagambet. My beater is a disaster for the whole collective farm. Thanks to it the enemy will fail both to come suddenly from backside and strike head on. And as for my tongue so it is a sharp pike of a dzhigit. Say me better: if our Shackyp is so powerful why has weak Shomart clocked him clean then? Why doesn’t his outsize wife present him one more child if Shackyp is so strong? – Mamet said and having burst out laughing dabbed with his finger in Shackyp’s stomach.  

-          Hey you, thin bearded one, why are you licking your lips? – Irysshan said.

-          Yes, I am licking my lips. It looks like this! – Mamet said and grew dark. Mamet was not really in the mood for amusement. He was an agemate and a close friend of Shackyp. Since their childhood they grew together, lived out together long and difficult years. They trusted each other their big and small affairs and those secrets which they didn’t share even with their wives. And sometimes sitting in front of the collective farm barn at long nights they said to each other: “It is already left few our agemates”. After such words their conversations became especially long and warm-hearted as if these words fastened a wordless agreement – to spend in friendship the days remained for them. When Shackyp was chosen as a chairman of the collective farm Mamet rejoiced so much as if it were he who had been reverenced. After becoming a chairman of the collective farm Shackyp trusted Mamet like the most sterling fellow to keep watch and ward the collective farm wealth.

            For all long life the friends never quarreled seriously. They often teased each other and nibbled like playing camels.

            But now Mamet felt uncomfortable. “Haven’t I really overdone it?” – he thought. To his mind, Shackyp was offended very much because he had been undeservingly removed from the post of the chairman. “Both friends and enemies are indeed only in such difficult times”, - Mamet thought and pitied his friend with all his heart.

            After looking at keeping silent Mamet and his heartsore Irysshan Shackyp understood their thoughts. But he didn’t want to open his heart for them and he pretended as if he had noticed nothing.

-          Than to chew the rag get better some beans from me, - he said and started moving draughts apart. – And as for you, my old woman, boil us some meat to divert his tongue from chattering. – He added humorously.

            Shackyp and Mamet were old experts in draughts. But to say the truth last time they played already long ago and now both one and the other did misses. But after first two games they returned their skills again.

-          Make your move, make it, - Shackyp kept saying.

            But it was clear that Mamet had been at a loss. His look stopped and he fashed his thick beard.

-          I suppose while you are thinking I will have enough time to sleep myself out.

-          Don’t laugh at. A mocker is going to split a stone with his head but in stead of this he breaks his head.

-          I am always lucky when I laugh at you, - Mamet said and started moving from the right corner.

            Shackyp gave Mamet an opportunity to take several draughts and then started taking the opponent’s draughts in succession.

-          One, two, three, four, five, - he counted tapping with draughts.

-          Eh, damn you! Take them but don’t count and don’t tap at least, - Mamet said and gathered the draughts.

            Shackyp roared with laughter.

            Suddenly crying Beisen ran into the room. He always started stuttering when he was angry. And now choking and foaming at the mouth he cried:

-          He has be-e-aten me up, beaten me up, draggled me in snow, dragged me behind his sledge. He will kill me!

            Irysshan and Shanat ran in having heard his cry.

-          Who, Beisecke, who has beaten you up? – Shanat rushed to him.

-          Our new chairman, an autocratic chairman – a cunning chairman. I will die by his hand. Let me alone, I will DIE by his hand.

-          Wait a while! – Shackyp raised voice at him. – Blast you. Will die and will die. Why don’t I see any bruising on your body after such a terrible beating up?

-          I say, say, they don’t believe, don’t believe! He said not in vain: “I’ll see how your Shackyp will come to the defense of you”. I swear with the God that this all is the honest truth.  

-          Where have you met and why has he started beating you? Now then, explain us!

-          Amanbeck, Baimagambet and I were going to “October”. Suddenly he like a devil appeared towards us and brought me back along with. And when we got to the river he started beating me up and dragged me behind his sledge. And then he pushed me downhill. I rolled down up to the river and lay there senseless about an hour. But it is not all yet. The most offensive thing is that he ordered me to chop eight cartful of ice.

-          E-e-eh, it means that the scandal started because of this. – Shackyp said.

-          No, I say, no! “Do you, he says, contribute Shackyp? Do you draw troubles upon yourself?”

            Already for a long time there were no fights in the aul. That is why everybody was surprised by this event very much. Not knowing to believe or not to believe Beisen old man Mamet drew a conclusion:

-          If this all is the truth then this is directed not against Beisen but against Shackyp. But at first we have to investigate everything thoroughly. I am saying because not to blow up by chance the fire from this flake.

            Shackyp and Shanat were sitting and keeping silent having dropped their eyes. Irysshan sighed in a low voice and then pronounced:

-          They don’t let us live peacefully!

            Beisen went on abusing Shomart:

-          He is raging because of you, Shanatshan, - he cried. But Shackyp stopped him at once:

-          Well, that’s enough. We have laws for breakers; we will find the reins for an unbridled one. Why do you throw yourself at Shanat? Let her alone.

            But as soon as it became more silent in the room somebody knocked at the door. In Kazakh’s auls there wasn’t domesticated a custom yet to knock at the door by entering and after hearing this knock everybody guessed at once who this new guest was. Only Aidar always knocked at the door and it was really him. Aidar slowly came into the room, cautiously sat down on a chair and greeted everybody shortly and droopingly somehow. Having seen his darkened face everybody understood that he had also brought bad news.  

-          Has Shomart returned? – Shackyp asked.

-          Yes, he has, - Aidar spoke in his beard.

-          What news has he brought?

-          Well, people say that he wants to sell fifteen heads of cattle and fifteen pigs.

            Shackyp opened wide his usually half-closed eyes. He always differed with his reserve but now having heard this news he felt as if somebody was cutting a piece of meat from out his body. Aidar knew what more than likely he could strike Shackyp’s raw nerve with.

-          Does it mean that that wealth which we were gleaning will go away by the armful from the collective farm now? – Shackyp said and bent his brows.

            And here Aidar struck one more spark out of flint:

-          It will be good if we loose just wealth. In addition, I suppose, soon we will have a lack of people too.

-          Don’t obfuscate me, talk up: what else has happened?

-          He has thrown me out of work. And tomorrow he will obviously bring to justice both me and Beisen.

-          He might have been mad, - Shanat pronounced in a low voice.

            “Shomart, smart Shomart with his nice temper seems to be so far removed from himself. Can it be that this all is the truth? But what do they have both to lie?”

            This all boggled Shanat’s mind. She sneaked out of the room and wanted to go to Shomart’s place at once but having come to her sense she went to the office. Since Shomart became a chairman of the collective farm Shanat was temporary appointed at the position of the secretary in the partbureau. And now she decided to call Shomart to her office and investigate what had happened.

            Having seen how his daughter’s face had changed Shackyp guessed at once where she was going. Ah, he wished he would be able to guess in the same way what people were around him then!

            Could old people really understand the youth? Could they learn new songs or would they turn everything into their own direction? But he was thinking not about this. Gelid wind of the gossip destroyed his patience.

-          My veins grow numb, my blood turns to ice. I have endured enough. I don’t want any more. Now I will not plant myself like a backstop on your way. I will not bind your hands, my relatives. Wherever you need my words I will be on the side of the truth. Go, I wish you wishes would become true.

            Beisen was puzzled not exactly understanding the sense of these words. Aidar had understood very well and having lifted his head went away lugging Beisen off. Having sat keeping silent for some time Mamet said being worried and anxious:

-          Don’t lay on thick, Shackyp.

-          I am not already the point here. The cattle are fooled away. Now it could be a crime. The collective farm lived in peace like good curdled mild, the wealth was indefeasible and he has mixed everything up. It is right time to interfere. Don’t say that it is my spite, my grievance – it reeks of sabotage. Have you forgotten as some time ago some saboteurs played hell with all our sheep under the pretence of artificial insemination?

            They forgot about draughts and jokes didn’t come to their minds. The noise made by Beisen and Aidar put the old friends out of humor. All Mamet’s talkativeness vanished as if by magic. They ate keeping silent and Mamet went home too.

            Shackyp dressed and went out. In slack pace, gasping as if he himself had smothered right then a fire just by his own forces Shackyp was climbing sugar loaf mountain Syrgabai. The sun had already drooped when he got its top. The whole aul was lying in front of Shackyp’s eyes. He could hear clearly each sound in the evening silence. For example, there came three fellows making merry noise over the whole street. In the middle he saw the son of carpenter Pahriy who was playing accordion. Tractor driver Tocken was singing along with him and combine operator Kolya was famously dancing. They came to the club and there the youth joined them. The whole aul knew these fellows. In the evenings they often gave some kind of free street concerts and repeated in the street the things which they had seen in the club. The parents of all three ones were old laborious collective farmers and Shackyp’s true team-mates.

-          These babies who just recently were wallowing in their cribs have become hefty dzhigits. There has grown a powerful collective farm from the separate yards which were scattered like river stones. What else does this Shomart want? – Shackyp said aloud and gave a warmed glance at everything around.

            It seemed to him that the collective farm aul was a large cane lake in the wide steppe and merry voices of the youth remembered him swans’ squawk over the lake.

            It was the favourite imagine of this old hunt lover. There wasn’t any more beautiful thing for him than a steppe lake in canes and nothing could be better than collective farm “Amangeldy”.

            After looking everything around what his eye was possible to embrace from the top of the sugar loaf mountain Shackyp already wanted to go downhill when Shanat came up to him.

-          I have just spoken to Shomart, - she said. – It turned out that those rascals had made in vain such a noise. There are found out some cases of embezzlement. Aidar is everywhere guilty. Shomart wanted at once to bring him to justice but I have dissuaded him. We have to make sense of this all at first and if it really turns out that he is a robber we will judge him only then.

            She didn’t say everything she wanted yet when Shackyp just fobbed her off and interrupted her:

-          I don’t want to listen to anything. If now they have become robbers earlier their hands were not bound too. Why didn’t they rob earlier? Shomart thinks perhaps that Aidar has dirty history. Then I say you the following: in due time Aidar solved some criminal hanky-panky of our former bookkeeper. That is why I gave him this job. For thirteen years that he had been working for me there were many revisions and inspections but they never found out any disadvantages in the work. Everybody knows that Beisen is not famous for his diligence. But even five fingers on one hand are different; however, a person needs them all. It is easy to drive away and bring a human to destruction. But just try to educate him and bring into one line with good people. My hair has grown grey because of these troubles. And Shomart rejoiced that he had found an enemy so easily under his nose. Just think! If all these people had been enemies and your Shacke hadn’t really had enough open mind for everything and had been a drag on would we have been able to raise the collective farm to such respect and wealth? What an all-seeing one he is! And you, my daughter, should feel shabby about it: you look at everything with his eyes. As people say: “If you see how somebody robs your father’s fortune – think fast, take for yourself too”. Well, let’s leave this. I wish your wishes would become true.             

            It seemed that Shackyp’s anger didn’t have any bounds. She was looking for but she didn’t find any words to prove him Shomart’s rightness. She understood that her father wouldn’t take her tenderness then and wouldn’t listen to her words. “Only now I have learned that you string along with Shomart. Well, go away from me as far as possible”, - that were exactly the words which Shanat heard in his violent speech. Of course, she wanted to say her father the truth, open him her heart and be quite honest about it but she couldn’t make herself speak about this.

            Having come home after his father, Shanat called her mother to her room. Irysshan came into her room. The old woman looked awful.

-          What’s up, my dear? What’s happened?

-          Nothing, mummy, nothing. Why are you worried so much?

-          I don’t know, my dear.

            When Irysshan calmed down a little Shanat started carefully to speak:

-          Say me, mum, am I already grown up?

-          Of course, my dear.

-          Say, where is the reasoning that I am already grown-up?

-          When I became a grown-up I was given to your father. Then the god gave me you. And now you see yourself what I am…

            Shanat tenderly looked at her mother and smiled:

-          I am asking not about this, mum. For example, me. Though I am a woman but I would like to decide mannish cases. Say me, will I be able to?

-          Why won’t you be able? I wish just you would to be alive and healthy. You are the apple of my eye!

-          But what to do if people grime your apple?

-          Who dared to grime you? Just say and quick as lightning I will blanch my apple!

-          Then don’t let Beisen and Aidar come close to our house. How cannot I soil after touching grime? Just now I have heard from Shacke such words which I never even thought to hear. I haven’t ever felt so heavily yet. – Shanat added sadly and stopped talking.

            Irysshan felt how her heart was breaking with grief and anger. She remembered Beisen’s evil-minded allusions and only now she saw the light.

-          Ah, he is a lying dog! – She cried out and pinched her cheek. – Ah, he is a blushless canine! How could he dare to belie my darling? Well, just wait a little. You will pick up the pieces according to your deserts! And what is going with our Zilkara? Earlier nothing could make flare him up even if a mountain fell down nearby. He has absolutely gone mad, perhaps, gone mad. Oh, my god. And Aidar, what has he done?

-          All the troubles are because of him, - Shanat said. – But you, mum, just don’t boil over. You were always patient, wait a little now too. Let’s think better how to drive them off the father.

-          How can we do this?

-          Shacke is tired of long-term uninterrupted work. His eyes got used so much to everything what he sees every day around that he already notices nothing and cannot make sense of what is good and what is bad. But the world is wide. I wish he would see some other places. He has many old friends in Almaty whom he hasn’t seen already for a long time. They all are respectable people. I wish he would advise with them. I am sure that after this he will understand many things.

            For a rather long time the mother and her daughter were sitting in the half darkness and talking. They didn’t light the lamp too. Suddenly there heard a voice:

-          Where is Shackem?

            Shanat and Irysshan shivered. The voice repeated:

-          Where is Shackem? Who is at home?

-          Alma, Alma! – The both cried merrily out and rushed to the incomer.

            Alma didn’t visit Shackyp’s house already for a long time.

-          Have you come alone? – Shanat asked her.

-          No, the elderling has accompanied me. Lead me to Shacke, - she asked.

-          Come with me at first, - Shanat led her into her room.

            There she told Alma below her breath what she and her mother had decided and added:

-          Advise him this journey and we will contribute you.

            There heard Shackyp’s voice from out the neighbour room.

-          If Almashan has truly come to our place then I will go and greet her by myself.

            Shackyp came out and having touched Alma’s forehead patted her shoulder. Having screwed his eyes as if he was looking into the far foretime he said in a soft voice:

-          It was the time when I carried you both on my arms and shared one candy between you. I hoped that you would have the hearts like that candy, the same sweet and united. “The death will come. Somebody of us will die and then the survivor will take care of them both, as of the apples of his eyes”, - I and your father said to each other, Almashan. And we have fulfilled our promise. You too have to carry your friendship through all hardships.

            After getting to hear what people said Shackyp suffered not only because he disliked Shomart. Most of all in this story he pitied poor Alma. He thought that only a very cruel man could offend her in her condition. Even now he didn’t express everything he had in his heart but his words hit Shanat exactly straight in her heart. She thrust Alma forward asking her to start the conversation.

-          Do you know, Shacke, what for I have come? – Alma said. – I am in grief because I have lost my eyes. But you are in grief because you have mantled your heart with dark thoughts. That is why I think: wouldn’t you like to start out, blow away the cobwebs, freshen ourselves up and look at other people?

            Shackyp answered nothing and Irysshan took up the conversation:

-          He is already not such one who he was earlier, Almashan. Now he is becoming angry. But he should go to cure these ones, I don’t remember how people call this, nerves if I am not mistaking?

-          You say right, Alma, - Shanat told. – For a rather long time Shackem hasn’t left our areas but the world is so wide. I think if Shackem went to Almaty he would enjoy so much! He should do both to see the capital and visit his old friends.

            At first Shackyp listening to the girls insistently kept silent. At last he could not tutor himself any more, shook with his head and having clucked said:

-          I don’t have any time for walks when everything in the aul is in disorder. I cannot leave without attendance the wealth created by my own hands. When such superficial persons like Shomart are ruling the roots in the collective farm…

            Here Shanat couldn’t also tutor herself any more and stood up from her place. She grew now red then white. “If because of his contumacy the father hinders to fulfill the plan it will do harm not only to the collective farm but also personally to him”, - she thought and said straight and quite honest about it:

-          You are smart, my Shacke, but now you are tangling more and more. You don’t want to understand and accept the new plan. You had to pull yourself up and see how it would be fulfilled in the reality but you don’t have any patience for this. It will be better for you to go away for some time.

            She dropped on the knees nearby her father who was sitting on the plank bed and put her hand on his shoulder. A tear rolled over her face. The old man continued insistently to keep silent. Irysshan couldn’t keep silent any more:

-          What’s up with you? Have you turned into a stone? Don’t you see, Shanatshan is crying?

            Alma came up to Shackyp from the other side and also put her hand on his shoulder.

-          Shacke! You have called me and Shanat your two apples of your eyes. I am also asking you about the same. I know it is very hard for you. But all the same, let’s try: let’s give them free rein to do what they think is right, - them both, the closest people for us! – Alma said meaning Shanat and Shomart.

            For a long time there was a fight in Shackyp’s heart. At last after insistent and torturous silence he started speaking:

-          “Even if you are bare and poor – all the same you have your family, your friends”, - Abai said. You are also my daughter, Almashan. Ok, I will go to Almaty. My elderling might have right: my nerves are in disorder, I should blow away the cobwebs. – Shackyp smiled. He said this aloud but deep in his mind he had a secret thought: “I will go to Almaty and try to put Shomart in a bag from there”.

3

            A board meeting with the active started at seven o’clock in the evening. Shomart spoke shortly. He didn’t have to argue with Shackyp: several days ago he went away with Alma. However, suddenly crew boss Baimaken started to contradict him. He held the meeting and took the word at once after the report.

            - You have done it droopingly somehow, - he said addressing to Shomart. – This year we can fulfill in full the farming rotation and perform the whole your “great plan” for one year, Shomart. We have just to take this task very seriously. Five persons – Aidar and Beisen first of all – must be brought to justice. We need honest and useful labour. We need cast-iron discipline. Our plan is like a living creature. If to divide it into several parts and prolong these parts for some years then our plan will die. I will be quite honest about it: today Shomart has shown liberalism and reconciliation.  

            Two voices interrupted Baimaken almost all at once.

-          Don’t pitch it strong, - stakhanovite Ishack said.

-          This all is said without proofs. – Amanbeck added.

            But these words just brought ardent Baimaken in passion. Being unable to sit at his place any more he started running around the room and swinging his arms:

-          Soon Soviet Power will be thirty years old. Perhaps you think that thirty years – it is not a long period but you have to remember that they have propelled the history of our country for three hundred years. We have already made the first steps to achieve communism. And those ones who were not able to keep pace with the tempos they also reasoned like you and wanted to put the brakes on. As for me so I know very well what it is a possibility and what it is a reality. And you have forgotten perhaps what wonders our people had done during the Patriotic War. Our possibilities – it is our will that blows the sails like wind. But only iron-cast discipline can rule over this will. Menacing clouds of war are gathering again in the horizon. And now our labour needs military tempos and military discipline.

            Shomart rang and said:

-          Don’t frighten us with a war. Just speak to the question. You have just two minutes.

            Baimaken asked to elongate his time. Shomart kept silent but Baimaken said:

-          All the same you are not able to get a load off our minds in the dispute. You’d better to prepare a report. Only then we will listen to you.

-          This is suppression! Suppression! – Baimaken cried out and sat down.

            I s h a c k. We cannot transfer to fodder crop rotation at once: it is a difficult thing. We should transfer step by step as Shomart has said about this. And as for stakhanovites then if we ourselves stay alive we will beat the target.

            A m a n b e c k. Baimaken is an expert to abuse everybody but the tongue that never stops wagging never stops babbling too.

            B a i m a k e n. I know you all. Here in the meeting you all are experts to give advices.

            A m a n b e c k. Then I advise you: don’t climb a wall, otherwise you will give a bad account of yourself. And as for Shomart’s report, so I don’t have anything to add to. Just one thing. We need some brood cows as soon as possible. The cattle which Shomart aims to sell I put on feed as of tomorrow.

            B a i m a g a m b e t. Oh, people’s sins! Nobody has said a word about pigs. Pigs can also be of different breeds. And each breed demands a special care. When will electro be installed for pigs? And one more thing. It is essential to buy some pigs of the best and newest breed. Just give me them and then I know myself what to do with them.

            Shanat was the last who took the floor:

-          First and foremost I would like to stop on the speech of comrade Baimaken Adambeckov. He has said here that a possibility – it is our will that is like a wind blowing the sails. But if it were my will I would cover the whole world with collective farms and would throw the seeds of collective farm life even onto the moon! As for now so we don’t have such a possibility yet. It means that our will is subdued by our possibilities. It means that like a sail it needs administration. Right calculated time, account and hard work solve everything. But comrade Adambeckov throws away first two conditions and lays all stress only on labour. He forgets that our labour, soviet people’s labour – it is not a simple but constructive and reasonably used labour. Shomart takes all these three conditions into account. That is why the majority contributes him.

            A m a n b e c k. If to give Baimaken free reins he will sow even on bare stones. (Laugh).

            B a i m a k e n. Where is discipline, comrades? Where is discipline?

            S h a n a t. I think that we cannot also agree with comrade Adambeckov in the fact that we have to bring to justice five persons of our collective farm at once. Who cannot mistake? To my mind, the comrade chairman has said right. Of course, we shouldn’t pity Aidar. He has surely robbed. Nobody has complained about him only because nobody knew about this. Officially all records of workday units were in order.

            B a i m a g a m b e t. What robbing are you speaking here about then?

            S h a n a t. Then how else could you explain the fact that instead of your five kilos you have got only four in arriving at? One your kilo was shared between Beisen and Aidar.

            B a i m a g a m b e t. What a cunning dog this Aidar is! He has stuck to the common labour and shared its results with others, the same blood-suckers in addition!

            S h a n a t. That is it! We must tear off this blood-sucker and throw it away. Well, for some lost souls we must give an opportunity to return to the honest way. I propose to accept the reporter’s proposition.

            When the meeting was over and people started go home Shomart said to Baimaken:

-          Stay for a while!

            Silence settled in the office seemed to be strange. Shomart was sitting at his table and having bent at the act was writing in the accepted addendums. He was absolutely wrapped up by this and it was difficult to guess what he would speak about then.

            Shanat drew herself together like a golden eagle under a tip. Having put his both hands into the pockets Baimaken was walking around the office like a wild animal in a cage.

            At last Shomart lifted his head.

-          Why are you balking all the time? – He asked Baimaken.

-          And you? Why are you blaming me all the time? – Baimaken replied him and came up to Shomart’s table.

-          Kazakhs can bridle the wildest horses. Watch yourself! If you don’t stop we will have to put a double horse sling on you and lacerate your lips with a thin belt.

-          About what double horse sling and thin belt are you speaking? I have seen tanks and bombs weighting the whole ton. And even then I wasn’t afraid.

-          Stop, - Shanat said strictly. – Stop boasting. You’d better to show your strengths during the work. Already not for a one time we have admonished you. Would you really like us to criticize your behavior as a communist?

            Obstinate Baimaken turned pale. He started speaking fast in someone else’s voice as if he was afraid that he could be interrupted:

-          It was the time when my wings were weak still but I got a terrible stroke of fate. I lost my mother and father, walked around the world and suffered enough in grief. I got all my conscious experience in the army. That is why I know only the army life. For example, I cannot wear unbuttoned clothe. Even when my belt looses just for a little I feel confused at once. I have never seen that it is possible to achieve something without hardness and perseverance. It seems to me that each loosening is irregularity. Where are my strengths now? Where are you, the iron-cast discipline that has hardened me? This incapacity for work has brought me to such a condition…

            And Baimaken chocking ran out from the office.

            Shomart put on thinking cap and then said:

-          He balks very much. We have to discard him.

-          Wait a little! He has such a fast mind and a clear heart, - Shanat contradicted.

            “Shackyp is too slow, this one is too fast, - Shomart thought. – This one I have to hold forward, that one – to hold back.”

-          One is sluggish, the second one is a slasher, - he pronounced loudly. – Why do I have to waste my time for them?

            Shanat looked at him and rebuked dryly:

-          Instead of stepping back from the people after seeing their disadvantages you’d better to help them work them off. This is the main task of a leader.  

            The conversation was interrupted. Silence settled in the room. Suddenly somebody noiselessly opened the door and Aidar came into the office.

            He led his little daughter by the hand. It wasn’t former assured and pushy Aidar whom everybody knew well. No, now he looked like a poor man. He was standing at the door and didn’t dare even to sit down.

-          My dears, - Aidar was about to start but he stopped and his eyes streamed torrential tears at once. The girl started crying too. – Listen to me! I would like something to say! Look at these tears, my dears. I have washed not only my eyes but also my heart with these tears. I am guilty, I have mistaken. But there is no horse in the world who hasn’t stumbled just for once. There is no human who hasn’t mistaken. How much time is it left for me to live? I think not more than for an old sheep. I beg you, don’t beggar me! Don’t make this baby cry. Now I don’t have any other wishes except the wish to work honestly all rest of my life and wash off my dirty guilt with the help of my honest work. I swear with my grey beard, with my tears, with the tears of this baby, my dears, you…

            Shanat couldn’t quietly listen to any more and rushed to him.

-          Calm down, elderling, - she said softly. – And you, baby, don’t cry.

            Shomart leant over the table.

-          Shomart, what’s up with you? – Shanat addressed to him. – Or don’t you hear how they are crying? Well, say them something. Calm them down.

            Shomart went on keeping silent.

-          Oh my god! If you exist turn your regard on me! – Aider wailed even louder. – Look, my dears! In sign of my inviolable oath I hang this rope on my neck.

            He took his belt off and bound it around his neck. Shanat addressed to Shomart:

-          What’s up with you? Are you a stone? They are people too!

-          Well, - Shomart said doubtingly at last, - let them stay. Let him proof his repentance with the help of honest work.

4

            Spring came. But morning frost didn’t let the ground dry. The river Kara-Nura broke up and there appeared an ice jam at its barrage. Water gushed back and waterlogged everything around for the distance of one camping ground march. There existed a hazard that the aul could be waterlogged too. But nobody worried because people heard the rumble of far away detonations. This was dynamite that was fighting with ice at the bottom of mountain Koshyr in the narrow creek.

            In these days all collective farmers of “Amangeldy” were divided into several groups. One people headed by crew boss Baimaken went to the line of wiring. Amanbeck accompanied by several collective farmers went to Karaganda to get some machines, sell long-fed cattle and buy some breeding stock. Having gathered the rest of people in the aul blacksmith Achmet started road works. Shomart decided to perform all these works simultaneously and in case of need move people from one section to the other. It was also planned beforehand where and who would work on the fields as soon as the time of sowing came.

            In such a way they started their great campaign.

            The close-knit collective farm had prepared very well during the winter and was ready to take of generous spring everything, even those things that it was not going to give people.

            The day was dull, the road was muddy and Shomart astride his grey horse rode round the line. This was the most difficult and the most urgent one among all works. According to the plan it must be finished concurrent with sowing. That is why Shomart assigned Baimaken to run this work. And now approaching he saw already from afar as over the wide steppe which was stretching between the collective farm and Temirtau there were flowing people like ants over an even path. From time to time his illusion took up this moving chain above the horizon – it looked very majestically. But Shomart’s thoughts were more majestically.

            Suddenly Baimaken rode up to him astride a chestnut five-year-old horse and reported him a bad news at once:

-          We are not able to dig holes and fix columns for the period of four days as it is foreseen by the plan. I don’t know why. The calculation may be wrong or it is guilt of people but we are not able to finish in time.

-          Why? – Shomart asked.

-          How can we do this? Throughout forty kilometers we must dig four hundred holes. Having twenty people in my brigade seven ones dig up only three when the norm is five.

-          But you must have such people who can overfulfill the norm!

-          We have just four such ones. They are not able to cover incomplete work of others.

            Shomart took thought.

            They rode up to the underperformers. Pig tender Baimagambet was pottering about at the hole. Having seen the riders he turned toward them.

-          How are you, Backe? – Shomart cried him being still afar.

-          I don’t know, either the norm is beyond my strength or my age has eaten all of them. But anyway, I have owed two more holes, - the old man said and laughed self consciously.

-          Yes, the both may hinder.

-          You say right. And as for this fine fellow he wants nothing to know. He has berated me right now and said in addition that he will not record my workday unit. Oh, people’s sins! Does he perhaps think that I don’t do all I can? I have come voluntarily here, I have even left my pigs. I hope that they will not die for four days, how do you think? For them I am striving here.

-          You have to move more quickly, - Baimaken said strictly.

-          What does he want to say? – Baimagambet addressed to Shomart. – Am I hiding my strength, am I?

-          We dug such a hole for ten minutes in the army.

-          Oh, people’s sins! The severe war was lasting five years long but finally they didn’t take me to the front. But I see now he wants to make a soldier of me.

            Shomart started laughing and pulled his horse away.

            Already in motion he pronounced in a low voice as if he spoke to himself:

-          Backe will spare nothing. He will give everything, all his strength to the collective farm.

            Baimaken was about to do damnedest out of spite. He didn’t dare to raise the voice at Shomart but he didn’t loose an opportunity to prick him:

-          If he is such a good collective farmer increase the timescale for him then. Perhaps then he will have enough time to do the work.

-          Today’s each minute is equal to a brick of an erecting building.

-          Why do you contribute Baimagambet then?

-          You see Baimagambet does his very best. What can I say him?

-          And who is guilty in the nonfulfillment of the plan then?

-          Well, I am riding now and thinking all the time about this. It seems to me that I have found a way out, - Shomart answered. – We have to remove some people from column fixing works.

-          Your way out is great! – Baimaken said. – Six horse wagons are stuck in six places in the mud and we have hardly pulled them out. Fifteen persons are involved in column fixing works and even they ask for fifteen more.

-          Nonsense! Choose three strong dzhigits among them and remove them to dig holes. Now I will send for help a tractor. Two cart drivers must stay along. But send right now three of six carts to the aul with someone weak who you need less. – Shomart ordered and went on riding.

            Baimaken understood at once Shomart’s simple calculation. But all the same he wasn’t satisfied. It was clear that one tractor and two men could do much more than six persons and three carts. But the tractors belonged to MTS (machine-tractor station) and MTS had given two tractors just for several days to help build the road. As soon as there came the time of sowing MTS would take the tractors back.  

-          There now, - Baimaken mumbled, - he will send us a tractor and stop the building of the road. But you know that the road has a strategic impact.

            When Shomart got now trotting then in full gallop at last to the place where the road was being built the work was humming in full blast there. First and foremost Shomart rode up to the tractor drivers working at the stone pit. Here was the old creek-bed of the river Nura and its sands had a lot of cobble stones. Sprightly competing two dzhigits and two women piled the stones into the drawbar trailers of two tractors. Having fallen gloomily to thinking tractor driver Tocken was standing at the tractor.

-          What are you thinking about, Tocken? – Shomart asked and after greeting dismounted his horse.

-          I think I will have a lack of kerosene, - Tocken answered with reluctance. – I know that we haven’t had any overrun. It seems to me that it is the work of that one, young woman.

            The woman whom Tocken had pointed to was babbler’s Beisen’s young wife with thick protruding lips.

-          Let me alone! – She said. – What for do I need your kerosene when soon we have electricity?

            In spite of the fact that those two dzhigits were busy they didn’t loose an opportunity to joke at the young woman.

-          Can temptation be called just by need? – One said.

-          Well, do you think that she has allowed herself to be seduced not by kerosene but by Tocken personally? – The other one started laughing.

-          Not only a woman but also a young girl can be soft on such a dzhigit.

-          Don’t decry her. Although she is Beisen’s wife but she is not worse than a young girl.

-          What a one you are! I see you wish some butter. It is too fat for you, you’ll choke. – The young woman said.

            Having bent his brows Tocken giggled.

-          Damn you! – The young woman boiled over.

            The men started laughing but the other woman who keeping silent was listening to the conversation felt ashamed. She pricked her cheek and said Beisen’s wife in a low voice:

-          I think you should feel ashamed at least in Shomart’s presence.

-          Why shall I feel ashamed in his presence? As for him I think he has nothing against to get married.

-          How can you say this?

-          Why not? I think he has packed off Shackyp and Alma for some reason and now he stayed together with…

            These words reached Shomart’s ears but he pretended as if he hadn’t heard anything. He went on speaking and checked up the tractor by himself. He knew agricultural machines very well and could operate them. Having opened the tank of the tractor he said.

-          Why do you use kerosene? Where is light oil?

            Tocken scratched his head.

-          It works on kerosene well too.

-          Of course, it works. But in stead of eighteen liters of kerosene you could use only twelve liters of light oil. You know light oil is cheaper than kerosene.

-          We don’t have any light oil now.

-          This all is because of your negligence. – Shomart said and pulled out his note book from out the field bag.

            He wrote something on a sheet of paper, tore it out from the note book and gave it to Tocken.

-          Go quickly with your tractor at Baimaken’s disposal. According to this note you will get some light oil in our warehouse but kerosene leave there. Remember me to your director and say him not to boast in future that he is rich for kerosene. I wish this kerosene not to eat all your bread. 

            Achmet noticed Tocken when he was about to leave the sands. Having lashed his horse with the whip he crying rushed to him and appeared at the tractor in a trice.

-          Where are you going? Freeze!

            Shomart rode up to them and stopped Achmet:

-          Stop, Aha, I have sent him.

-          Where? Where?

-          To the line of wiring.

-          And we? What do we have here to your mind? Not a line?

-          Have little patience, Aha.

-          Tisk, tisk, fellow. You are treating me with patience all the time!

            But when Shomart explained him what the matter was Achmet quickly calmed down…

-          I am here already thirty-five minutes long, Aha, and I have seen: after loading the drawbar trailers four people were sitting idly and waiting till the tractor came back. And then again, while they are loading the drawbar trailers the tractor will have nothing to do. But now we will set such an order that neither people nor tractors will stand in vain. Now we will start to use a conveyer system: one tractor will implement the work which two tractors did up to now, - Shomart said.  

-          That’s right, - Achmet agreed. – It is essential everything to calculate. Only donkey can live without any calculation. Because of these mud-locked roads we have expenses more than hairs on the heads. Now riding along this road each horse can outrun my motor circle.

            Shomart pulled out his note book again and from time to time looking into it told Achmet shortly about expenses for drawing facilities and fuel, about carts and machines breakages.

-          This all makes up expenses for thousands of rubbles. But the worst thing is that we waste so much time in vain, - he added.

            For Shomart the time was the most expensive thing. He knew mathematics perfectly but it seemed to him that he had learned to calculate the time unsatisfactory.  

-          Our time is the most expensive thing, - he repeated. – Our life is made of seconds. The life is going away together with these wasted seconds. – He finished.

            Achmet about whom because of his love to any innovations people had said from old times that he had Russian character was listening to Shomart and nodded in sign of his agreement. 

-          Wait a while, wait! – He said suddenly. – I have come near forgetting: when will the blacksmiths’ camp arrive?

            Shomart smiled. Achmet cared about the blacksmiths’ camp as much as Baimagambet about “electro” and as Amanbeck about well-bred cows. Shomart could meet them many times during the day but all the same each time they remembered him about their own. Just today in the morning Achmet had asked him about the camp.

-          I have already said you, soon. – Shomart replied.

-          They have to hurry, I would like to settle it as soon as possible, - Achmet said.

            The change of blacksmith’s hand hammers into electrical ones was an unseen innovation in the aul. Achmet didn’t forget about electrical camp not only in reality. He also saw it in his dreams and told his elderling about these dreams. “It means that you will live long, happily and in respect and your enemies will be under your heel”, - in such a way Zylyha interpreted him his dreams.

            ‘The old man is looking forward for electrical camp so much that it even seems he has forgotten about his own cattle’, - Shomart thought but as if answering his thoughts Achmet said:

-          And in what condition is my matter?

            To avoid answering Shomart clapped spurs to the horse and said quickly:

-          When we have some time we will take it into consideration. Now we don’t have any time for this.

            Kind-hearted Achmet didn’t understand Shomart’s deceit.

-          You say the truth. Now we don’t have any time for this, - he agreed.

            Having ridden a little off, Shomart pulled the rein and walked. He directed his horse to the flood plain of the river Nura where the most fertile lands of the collective farm were. Having crossed the wide fields prepared for sowing Shomart reached the flood plain and dismounted his horse.

            Having taken a handful of black like oil tar ground he pressed it firmly in his hand. But the ground didn’t dry yet and stuck to his fingers. On this lot the ground stayed wet longer than on other ones.

            In summer here grew grass higher than a horse’s height. And setting a high value on this lush grass Shackyp never ploughed this lot. But Shomart said that they could sow grass in some other place and here he decided to make vegetable plots and gourd fields. People didn’t lay emphases on vegetable-gourd cultures in the Kazakh’s collective farms yet but already in this year Shomart was eager to get million rubbles income from vegetable plots and gourd fields. Next year he intended to organize watering of this lot and get double income.

            And now staying alone Shomart was thinking about how to divide the works not to delay the watering installing by the next year.

            “We need a pump and several pipes. All this I can easily find in Karaganda and Temirtau. It will be not required to implement big ground works here. Pity, we have so little time. Not later than in a week we have to start sowing. So much work we must do for such a short period! However you could try but it is impossible to find some time for watering works. And if to start them after grain sowing simultaneously with vegetable and gourd sowing?”

            Suddenly he harked and having turned around saw a rider who was riding towards the stone pit. Having stopped there just for a minute the rider drove his horse to the road building section. Shomart understood that it was he personally who was sought for. He looked through his binocular and saw that there was a woman on the back of the horse. “I seem it is Balshan”, - he thought. The rider was already moving in the direction of the flood plain and having quickly mounted his horse Shomart rode towards her.

            It was really secretary Balshan. She was gasping.

-          Shanat ordered to find you as quick as possible.

-          What’s up?

-          It seems that Aidar is killed.

            Keeping silent Shomart let his horse at full gallop. Raising dust and making noise with the tramp along the quiet street he rode along the peopleless aul and stopped his horse at the office.

            Shanat was in the partbureau. She had just hung up the phone receiver and was standing being confused and unable to fall to check her pupils’ works which were lying in front on the table. Her face was overflushed and her eyes were impatiently looking at the door. Shomart came in.

-          Is it the truth? – He asked.

-          Yes, it is. Amanbeck has just informed me per phone.

-          How has he been killed? Who has killed him?

-          It is unknown yet was he killed or not. But he disappeared since yesterday. He had twenty thousand rubbles of the collective farm money.

-          And does his family already know about this?

-          His family went with him together. And they haven’t returned home yet, - Shanat replied. – I think so now: why did all his family go to the city? Was their child really ill? And what for has he taken all his bread and even the cow along?

-          Does it mean that he has run away?

-          Who knows him – he might have run away and he might also have been killed because of money.

            Shomart thought a little and said out of pique:

-          I didn’t want to have mercy on him then. It was you who had persuaded me.

-          Now it is impossible to help here neither with pique nor with contrition. One of us must immediately go to the city. Amanbeck has raised hell. He says that now he will not have enough money for all buying.

-          I don’t have any time to go to the city.

-          Do I have? Now it is the end of the school year. Look here, I have brought all exercise-books here to look them through.

-          Then I will go, - Shomart said.

            Since the beginning of the day Shomart didn’t have anything to eat in his mouth and he hardly had any time to go home and have a fast snack. His horse didn’t eat oat to his heart’s content yet when Shomart mounted it and took the road.

            People thought that it was about forty kilometers way from the aul to Karaganda. However, everything depended on how to count – it was possible to count all eighty but also only twenty kilometers. New mines and workers’ settlements were stretching from the river Kara-Nura to the Sherubai-Nura. Between these rivers there lived earlier two big clans. Exactly this huge area is called Karaganda today. Shomart didn’t know where exactly Amanbeck had stayed in Karaganda. He thought that most possibly he would find him at the Bolshoi market. He rode to so called Ugolnaya Karaganda. When following the telegraph line he climbed hill Torala-At the sun was already setting. Behind his back he had some kind of sea of flat lands; in front of him he had Karaganda standing like a misty mountain. On the bank of the river Nura there towered and delighted the eye Kargres and Temirtau. “Our collective farm is a small drop in the comparison with these giants”, - Shomart thought.

            At twilight he got to the city. Amanbeck’s relative Mashit at whose place Amanbeck usually stopped lived in “Kopai-gorod”. Shomart went directly to his place. Having ridden in Mashit’s wide yard Shomart saw some well-bred cows tied to the wooden fence. There stood some carts too. One cart was loaded with nursery transplants, the other one with electrical equipment and the rest of them – with coal and some component parts. Two absolutely new lorries attracted Shomart’s excited look. Amanbeck was going towards Shomart.

-          What a fellow you are, Amanbeck! – Shomart said. – I see you have already bought everything.

-          Your Amanbeck was going back today but there has happened a disaster, - he replied gloomily and told about what had happened.

            After coming to Karaganda their brigade had opened three stalls. They quickly sold out the whole meat. Every day Amanbeck together with Aidar brought the money to the bank and deposited it to the account of the creditor-establishments. On the last day Amanbeck was very busy and he asked Aidar to carry the money.

-          There was not a large sum of money and I didn’t want to leave the other affairs, - Amanbeck said. – And now because of this money we cannot get unaltered male horses in spite of the fact that everything else has been already paid for.

            But Shomart was satisfied with Amanbeck so much that he hadn’t been upset because of money. It was given just five days for Amanbeck. During these days he had to do half million circle and get in different places so much cattle and equipment that Shomart doubted if it would be possible for him to do this all. And now it turned out that he had done everything.

-          I wish all people would be as honest and accurate as you are! – Shomart said. – Don’t be upset because of money. It will return. Not money obtains us but we – money. Go now and take unaltered male horses. And by the night return to the collective farm.

-          They will not give me any horses. If we are short even of one rubble they will not give them.

-          No matter, they will give. I’ll arrange this.

-          Then at first I have to find babbler Beisen.

-          And where is he?

-          He went to learn about Aidar’s family. And up to now he hasn’t returned yet.

            Some kind of doubt moved in Shomart’s heart. “This one might run away too”, - he thought.

-          Go and look for him but just as fast as possible, - he said and went to the house.

            Amanbeck mounted Shomart’s horse and went to the first mine. People said that Aidar’s family was in “Zagorodnaya”. He had to go there through the mine and make a large circle. But Amanbeck rode straight on. When he was crossing the railway line he suddenly heard somebody’s voice that was loudly asking for help:

-          Help me, pull me out from here! Help me, I am dying!

-          Stop dying, I’ll help you now! – Amanbeck cried.

            “It might be someone glassy eyed”, - he thought.

            Somewhere the ground above not deep laid tunnels was subsided. Exactly from out such a hole somebody asked for help. Amanbeck came up and saw that Beisen like a wedge had stuck in the narrow split and was crying at the top of his lungs.

-          Have you, Beisen, yourself hidden here or has anybody beaten you here down?

-          Myself. I wanted to go straight on but fell in the darkness.

-          It is good that I have found you, - Amanbeck said laughing.

            Having pulled Beisen out he sat him onto the horse’s back in front.

-          Let’s ride carefully not to kill the horse. Well, have you gone and learnt something?

-          Yes, I have, but I haven’t found them there, they have come back!

-          Have you heard anything about Aidar?

-          No, I haven’t.

-          What’s going on? Is he run down by a train or has anybody really killed him? Or is he lying anywhere being glassy eyed?

            Beisen kept silent. But when they came to the flat, having seen Shomart Beisen nodded him calling into the neighbour empty room.

            - My dear, - he said. – I am a stupid man. But now I start to realize my guilt. The dog has run away, - and Beisen pulled a newspaper out from his pocket. – Take it and read. Could he have run away because he was afraid of this? – And he dabbed the newspaper with his finger.