Once upon a time there lived a Chukchi man named Machalan in the tundra.
He had heard many times that the old raven had a daughter who had big breasts.
“How can I see her?” Machalan thinks. “I’ll become a beautiful little fish, lower myself into the hole and wait for her to come to the water!” The old raven wanted to drink fresh water and said to his daughter:
- Daughter, go get some cold water to drink!
The eldest daughter walked through the water, approached the ice hole and saw a beautiful, beautiful little motley fish. She wanted to catch a fish. She began to catch a fish, and was about to catch it, but the fish curled around her hand, but did not fall into the ladle. The girl soaked the sleeve of her kukhlyanka. She pulled her hand through the collar of her jacket and exposed her breasts. Old Machalan laughed and said:
“They say it’s true that the old raven’s daughter has big breasts.” But you are no longer young, you will soon be an old woman.
Machalan laughed and went home.
The girl fell headfirst into the snow and cried bitterly.
The old raven waited and waited for his daughter with water, and then sent his youngest daughter. The girl went and saw her sister in the snow.
- Why don’t you go home?
- No, I won’t go, tell your father. A girl comes and says:
“She’s lying in the snow and won’t go home!” The old man went:
- Well? What's the matter?
- Old Machalan laughed at me! – And my daughter told me about the fish.
“Okay, okay, and we’ll laugh: a rich widower will arrive tonight with a child who will need breast milk.” Machalan will hold him back. The widower will have one sledge of copper cauldrons, another of copper kettles, a third sledge with spears, and a fourth with assorted meat...
The night has come, the moon has risen. But Machalan can’t sleep. He came out of his fur canopy and walked around the yaranga. He hears the creaking of the runners. Who could it be, where are people driving deer like that?
And the caravan is getting closer and closer, and a child’s cry is heard, and the man persuades the child:
- Shut up, shut up, soon you will take big breasts, and there will be a lot, a lot of milk in them!
“Aha,” Machalan thinks, “they’re going to see the old raven!” The caravan reached Machalan. They ask him how far it is to the old raven. Machalan wants to talk to people. Machalan resorted to cunning.
“I don’t know where he is, the old raven probably migrated.” Why are you going to him?
- Yes, my wife died, the child does not eat anything, does not drink, cries all the time and begs for work. People said that the old raven had a daughter who had big breasts and probably a lot of milk.
At this time the child began to cry. The father was in a hurry. Old Machalan clung to the sled. He had already managed to look around the caravan and saw the great wealth of the widower and wanted to marry him to his daughter.
- No, the old raven doesn’t have any daughter, and his wife is old and doesn’t feed the children. You’d better come to me, I’ll find you lots and lots of milk.
They brought the child to the yaranga. Machalan told his wife to give her breasts. The child saw Machalan’s wife and shouted:
“I don’t want to suck on old breasts.” Machalan ran to his brother’s wife.
The brother's wife gives breast, but the child does not take it, shouts:
– I don’t want such small breasts!
- My son is crying, my heart hurts! - said the widower and began to get ready for the journey. Machalan ran to his niece.
The niece came, gave the baby the breast, and Machalan took the widower into the canopy to his daughter.
Night has come. Machalan sits by the fire and fusses with the child, rocks someone else’s child and sings to him:
- Wow, now I have everything, and the widower is sleeping in his daughter’s canopy.
In the morning an old raven flew in, circled around Machalan’s yaranga and said:
- Uh! What's floating there? Probably a white beluga whale is swimming.
Machalan says:
- Uh! It’s still early, we’re still sleeping, wait!
- Machalan, look, what do you have?
Machalan opened his eyes and began to look around. On the sledges, where there were copper utensils and spears, there were piles of rubbish and dirt. His daughter was lying covered in dirt, only one head was visible from the canopy, and Machalan himself was holding not a child on his lap, but a pile of filth.
- Here, Machalan, you were the first to laugh, and I was the last! - said the old raven and flew away.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru