Bai Hyrym lived on the banks of a fast river. He had a wife, Khirkha. Their summer yurt stood right next to the water. A poor man named Torsykh lived with the bai as a farm laborer. Bai did not allow him to place the yurt close to the river, he was afraid that the poor man would take water for free. In total, Torsykh had one cow, one sheep and one dog on his farm - all black. Torsykh lived with his wife and two children. I worked for the bai for forty years, could not earn anything and could not leave him. A year will pass - Torsykh will come for payment, and he must stay. They will calculate everything: how much water Torsykh’s wife took from the river, how much manure she burned. They force me to work again for debts.
That's what happened this year. All winter he grazed Torsykh's bai herds and again ended up in debt.
In the spring the swallows arrived. They tried to build nests at the bai's place, but the bai's wife drove them away. “There’s no point in littering around your home,” she told the birds.
Swallows settled in the Torsykha yurt. The poor man's wife never scolded them; she also fed them.
One early morning the swallows were sitting on the yurt and talking to each other: “We never littered near the bai’s dwelling, but his wife kicked us out and destroyed our nests. But here, even though we sometimes make a mess, no one scolds us, and they also feed us.” The forty heard their conversation, and envy took over her.
“I,” he says, “don’t eat anything from the poor, I’m disdainful.” For the rich, it's a different matter.
And the swallows answer her:
- You are an unclean bird. You are the worst of all birds. You feed on the garbage of the rich, you eat frogs and snakes. You can't fly to hot countries.
“I’m clean, I’m clean!” cried the magpie.
“We don’t want to come close to you.” You're a liar. “You laugh in summer and cry in winter,” answered the swallows.
She couldn’t bear it forty and flew away angrily. One day Khyrkha and Khyrym saw Torsykh’s children and reasoned with each other.
“We hold Torsykh tightly,” said Khyrkha. “But his children will grow up and will not work for us.”
“We need to burn Torsykh’s yurt, then we’ll take his children into bondage.” It’s not easy to build a new yurt,” Khyrym said.
They did it as they decided. At night Torsykh woke up - the yard was on fire. He woke up his wife and children, they grabbed buckets and ran to the river. Khyrym and Khyrkha are already standing there, they don’t give water.
“You’re already in debt,” they said to Tor-sykh.
The swallows flew to the river, took water into their mouths and poured on the fire, and threw forty dry grass into the fire and laughed:
- Ha-ha-ha, how fun it burns! Let everything burn! In the steppe, on a mound, a wolf howled:
“That’s right for Torsykh: he didn’t let us eat a single foal, let his yard burn to the ground.” And we will kill a cow and a sheep.
Torsykh’s dog runs around the yurt and asks:
“If only it would rain, if only it would rain.” In the herd, a roan stallion neighed:
“We didn’t hurt anyone day or night, let the rain pour down and the fire go out.”
Magpie laughs:
- Ha-ha-ha... If the wolf eats Torsykh’s cow, I will have the intestines left.
The swallows, flying, shouted:
- Let the rain pour... Let the rain pour... The wind blew, caught up with a black cloud, and the rain poured.
The rain quickly doused the fire...
The wolf crept up to the roan stallion:
“Because you asked for rain, I will eat you,” said the wolf.
“First, count how many hairs I have in my tail,” the stallion answered and turned around.
“Well, I’ll do the math,” agreed the wolf. He got close to the stallion, and the stallion hit him with his hind legs and split the wolf's head into two parts.
The rain was pouring more and more heavily. Khyrkha and Khyrym hid in their yurt. Here the river overflowed its banks. A wave rushed in, washed away the yurt, and Khyrkha and Khyrym drowned. Only Torsykh's yurt survived, because it stood on a hillock, far from the river.
In the morning he looks at Torsykh, but there is no trace left of the Bai's yards.
The swallows sing and rejoice, and the magpie cries:
“I built myself a nest on a low willow tree.” The water rose and carried away my poor babies.
The swallows shout back to her:
- With black thoughts, a magpie is crying on a black willow! We have no evil thoughts and we are happy. Today we rejoice, and tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and we will always rejoice.
Torsykh gathered the farm laborers. They divided the Bai cattle among themselves, set up new yurts on the shore and began to live well.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru