The old eagle flapped its wide wings and took off from the sharp and high rock. He flew over Uda, flew over the mountains and valleys in search of food. Yes, he has become old. He lived a lot, flew over the earth a lot. His eyes became dull. This old, but once strong and brave eagle shed a lot of tears.
But his memory is strong, the same. The old eagle remembers and knows a lot.
He sat down on a rock ledge and thought. Memories of previous years flashed through his head one after another, like the dark waves of the noisy and fast Kara-Bureni*, carrying its waters to the proud beauty Uda.
[Kara-Buren is a river flowing into the Uda. Kara – black; bure - wolf. Tofs translate as "Black River".]
He was once young and fearless. His eyes were keen, even the most frisky hare could not hide from him. He liked the young, proud eagle. In a ledge of a sharp rock, where no one had ever set foot, they carefully built a nest and began to live together.
Soon the eagle brought out the chick. They brought him food together and covered him with large and warm wings in bad weather. How much joy there was in the eyes of the mother and father when their son flapped his wings for the first time and flew!
One night, as the wind whistled, the earth shook, the mountains began to sway and tremble. With a creak and groan, trees fell and rocks crumbled. Animals and birds, which even during the day were strong and weak, cunning and cowardly, enemies among themselves, died equally, equally fled away from the collapsing mountains, saving their lives.
...A scream escaped from the eagle's chest. His eyes became wet. He always cried when he remembered that terrible night on which his eagle died.
In the morning the sun still shone brightly on the earth. It smiled, warmed, sparkled and gave life.
Exhausted by the terrible night and the death of the eagle, the father and son flew to look for another place for the nest.
And suddenly, among the ruins of gloomy rocks, a young eagle saw a white partridge. She beat her wings, but could not fly. The eagle was hungry, and he would have torn her to pieces, but suddenly his sharp eyes noticed drops of blood on the white wing of the helpless bird. The eagle's heart sank with compassion for her: she was wounded, she could not fly away.
The partridge looked at the eagle. There was neither fear nor pleading in her eyes. She was waiting for death, she wanted to die.
And suddenly she began to sing:
Good friend, you will never come to me. Oh, evil night, why didn’t it take me too!..
Eagle asked:
- Why are you crying so much? Why do you sing a sad and sad song?
- I have a friend lying here. He died tonight.
- Don't cry, darling. My mother also died. I will love you, I will bring you water and food. We will live together.
- No! I was given to someone else. I am bound by mountain ranges.
[Mountain ranges are a decoration made of stones that the groom put on his bride before the wedding. Mountain ranges connected these people forever.]
“You must tear them apart,” said the eagle and sang a song. He sang about a terrible night, sang that he loved the white partridge, that he would never leave her alone.
The partridge threw off the mountain ranges, and the eagle, with its sharp claws, quickly tore the threads connecting them.
The eagle looked at the place where the partridge was sitting - she was gone... In front of him stood a beautiful girl with black eyes. And he himself is no longer a bird, but a man.
The girl gave him her hand, smiled, and together they left the ruins to look for a good place.
...The eyes of the old eagle became clouded again. What could he do? He then flew for a long time over the happy couple, protected them from predatory animals, and helped his human son, whom he also lost forever, on the hunt.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru