Once upon a time there lived a gypsy sorcerer. And this sorcerer had an enchanted horse - a purebred Arabian trotter.
You won't find such beautiful horses anywhere. At the races, this horse always took first prizes. And the sorcerer made money not only from horse racing. It’s a well-known fact: he had a lot of envious people. After all, gypsies often stole horses, and stealing such a horse is an honorable thing for a gypsy. They tried to steal this horse from the sorcerer no less than a hundred times, but everything was useless.
When a sorcerer's horse is stolen, he immediately starts going to markets and fairs - looking for the horse.
They painted it and repainted it, and the gypsies did everything they could to prevent it from being found—nothing helped. As soon as the sorcerer appeared at the market, his enchanted horse immediately reared up and ran to its owner.
- How do you know that this is your horse, because yours was of a different color? - the horse thieves begin to attack the sorcerer, and he calmly answers:
- I have one note of my own...
-What note? Why lie against us in vain? - the horse thieves rush at the sorcerer with their fists, begin to beat themselves in the chest, swear, and call for witnesses. And when the constable approached in response to the noise, the sorcerer calmly ripped open the skin on the horse’s neck with a knife and took out his sign from there - three gold coins. It’s clear: the horse thieves were immediately sent to prison, and the sorcerer and his horse went home.
That’s just how it was at first, but then the gypsies became smarter, because who wants to sit in prison? The sorcerer catches them, and they pay him off with money. That's all the sorcerer needed. The gypsies realized that it is difficult to steal this enchanted horse, it brings them misfortune, but still the gypsy soul cannot be changed: it is drawn to the enchanted horse. And year after year the notoriety about this horse and its owner grew.
And now the time has come for the sorcerer to die. The Count, a well-known horse thief in the area, heard about this, and immediately went to the sorcerer:
- Sell me your horse, sorcerer, I will pay you well!
– Why do I need money if I’m going to die? But I don’t have children! No, I won’t sell the horse, no one will get it.
So the Count left the sorcerer’s house with nothing. And the next day the sorcerer died. The sorcerer is still being laid in the coffin, and the Count is already hovering around the stables. He brought out the horse, harnessed the sled and rode off.
But the horse didn’t even have time to take two steps, and the sorcerer rises up in his coffin and shouts:
- Don't touch my horse, Count!
If necessary, go somewhere else to steal horses.
The Count did not listen to the sorcerer and rushed off. He rides and rides, snow flies from under the horse’s hooves, the runners of the sled creak. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a little man appeared next to the Count. Just a minute ago there was no one, but here it is on you! The count was not one of the timid, he swung his fist and punched the guy in the neck. Lo and behold, there is no man at all. And my neck hurts unbearably. And then this little guy appeared again. The Count got angry and punched him in the eye.
He looks: again there is no one. And he himself has a huge bruise under his eye and his eye is swollen. The man appeared for the third time. At this point the Count went completely mad. “Well,” he thinks, “now I’ll finish you off!” With all its might it would hit a man in the teeth. The man disappeared again, and the Count began to ride on the sleigh in pain. I felt it with my finger and two teeth were gone. And then around the bend a bridge appeared.
As soon as the horse stepped onto the bridge, it instantly disappeared. There is no horse or sleigh. The Count stands alone on the bridge and cannot understand what happened.
-What is this? – the Count thought out loud. - Some kind of devilry. It can’t be that you can’t take a horse from a dead man! The gypsy horse thieves couldn’t take it from a living person, so is it really possible that nothing will come of a dead person?
The Count comes back to the sorcerer’s yard, and this horse, harnessed to a sleigh, stands in the yard as if nothing had happened. And the same clamp and drawbar.
Again the Count jumped into the sleigh and rode off again, and everything happened again. And this was repeated three times until the Count ran into the sorcerer’s courtyard and cried out:
- Damn you, devil's spawn, so that I even come near you again!
The Count spat and left with nothing. And when the next day the sorcerer was buried and the gypsies gathered in his yard to decide who would get the enchanted horse, the Count came forward.
“Chavale,” he said, “this horse brought misfortune to many of you, and I suffered from it.” So let no one get it!
With these words, the Count took his gun and shot at the enchanted horse.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru