In very ancient times, there was a house in a wide forest clearing. A man lived here with his wife and son.
The boy grew up quickly. He learned to wield a bow deftly and shoot accurately. From morning to evening the boy was in the forest, not a single bird, not a single animal left him, so he shot accurately.
One day a boy came home and said to his parents:
- Bless me, I’m leaving to seek exploits. There are heroes somewhere! I want to measure my strength with them, and I’ll come back in exactly thirty-three years.
There is nothing to do, the parents gave their blessing. The father told him:
- We give you a name - you are the son of the glorious hero Baigal-ool, and your name is Khomus-hero (Silver hero). Catch my golden-maned horse, he is grazing in the meadow; whistle three times, he will come running to you. The horse is almost wild; I let him graze a long time ago.
The boy came out of the house, whistled three times with a heroic whistle, and suddenly a golden-maned horse stood in front of him. The boy said goodbye to his parents, and his heroic horse carried him to unknown lands in search of exploits.
Khomus the hero galloped for a long time, whether it was a year or two is unknown, and suddenly his horse stopped dead in his tracks. The hero sees: the road branches into three roads, and there is an inscription: “If you go straight, you will reach the sun, if you go to the left, you will find happiness, if you go to the right, you will find death.” Without thinking twice, our hero turns right. He drives for a day, then drives for two, and notices that the further he drives, the darker it becomes. On the fifth day, I looked back and saw only the edge of the blue sky, and ahead was impenetrable darkness.
Little by little, the eyes of Khomus the hero began to get used to the darkness. So he saw a large house ahead, with thick smoke coming from the chimney. Loud snoring can be heard in the house.
Khomus the hero entered the house and saw: a large cauldron of water was boiling on the stove, a huge Abakha (devil) was lying the entire length of the room and was fast asleep. Twice
shouted Khomus the hero, but Abakha didn’t even move. Khomus the hero gave him a slap on the forehead, and only then did Abakha jump up, rubbing his sleepy eyes. Seeing the man, Abakhi was very happy and said:
- Ah, yesterday I walked all day, but didn’t find anything for dinner, and dinner came to me.
With these words, he wanted to grab the guy and throw him into a boiling cauldron, but our hero didn’t even budge. And then they began to fight. We fought for a long time. Abakha began to weaken, and Khomus the hero, knocking him down, cut his throat. Then Khomus the hero dealt with his middle brother in the same way, who lived not far from his younger brother, but was stronger than him. Dying, Abakha’s middle brother said that they had an older brother, Abakha, whom no one had yet defeated. And our hero went to look for the elder Abakha.
Khomus the hero rides on a golden-maned horse. He sees: there is a big, big house, with thick, thick smoke coming out of it, from which the whole sky is clouded. A terrible crash is heard throughout the forest, as well as loud conversation.
Khomus the hero drove closer and saw: a terrible monster with eight heads was sitting, a bright fire was flying out of the mouth of each head. Abakha already knew that Khomus the hero had killed his two younger brothers. There were a lot of skulls of brave heroes lying around the house; everything around was strewn with bones.
This terrible Abakha was languishing with the beautiful daughter of the sun. Many heroes went to the rescue of the daughter of the sun, but none of them returned.
Our hero fought for a long time from Abakha. They themselves did not know how long they were fighting. Both are tired. When one fell, another fell nearby, when one rose, the other immediately jumped up, and they fought again. The seasons were recognized by the rain and snow, and no one knew how long they fought, but Abakha began to rest more and more often; he no longer had the strength to fight. Khomus the hero stood up, Abakha continued to lie down. A little later he stood up heavily, and the battle of the two heroes began again. Gathering his last strength, Khomus the hero threw Abakhy to the ground and pulled out his knife to cut the monster’s throat.
Before Khomus the hero had time to cut his throat, the pupil of Abakha popped out of his right eye. Abakha quickly jumped up and rushed, shouting to Khomus the hero:
“I’ll come to you again when your son starts learning to shoot a bow... We’ll see then who wins.” Now you have won.
Khomus the hero freed the beautiful daughter of the sun, put her on a golden-maned horse and rushed home to his old people. Meanwhile, the old people were very worried, since thirty-two years had already passed since their son left home.
We came home, had a lavish wedding and began to live and live well and make good money.
The time had come for the old people to die, they were very old. Khomus the hero buried them at the top of a high hill so that he could see their grave every day.
A lot of time has passed. Khomus the hero became gray-haired and walked leaning on a stick. They had a son who was already running and starting to learn archery.
One early morning, when the sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon, some strange noise was heard and a crashing sound was heard throughout the forest. This was going to Khomus the hero of Abakhi, who threatened to come to him when his son began to learn archery. Abakha shouted from a distance:
- Well, come out, glorious Khomus the hero, I came as I promised. I will cut your throat and take away your wife and son. Come out quickly!
Khomus the hero came out to Abakhi and saw that he could not defeat him, he was already very old, but there was nothing to do, he had to fight the monster.
Two old enemies meet again, both eyes burning with hatred. They fought for a long time. Khomus the hero began to rest more and more often, he no longer had his former strength, he already felt that a little more and he would fall dead. Again they both lay down to rest, but Abakha quickly gets up and shouts:
- Well, come on, get up, just a little more, and I’ll cut your throat.
Having said this, Abakhi takes out the knife and looks to see if it is sharp enough. And suddenly a boy grew up in front of Abakha. This boy turned around and hit Abakhi, but Abakhi stood as if no one had touched him. Then Abakha hit the boy. The boy grew up a little because of this. He hit Abakha a second time - the boy grew up again. He hit Abakha a third time - the boy turned into an adult, and then they began to fight for real, like heroes fight.
The battle was long, we rested many times, got up many times and fought again. But then our hero threw Abakhy to the ground, cut his throat, put his corpse on a sleigh, tied him to the sleigh and drove the horse in the direction from which Abakhy had come.
Khomus the hero was now calm about his son, who had become an invincible hero, like Khomus the hero himself was in his youth.
Khomus the hero lived with his wife and son for a long time. There were big battles, but no one ever defeated Khomus the hero and his son, and they lived on earth for a long time until they died a natural death.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru