A gypsy camp was driving. I drove and drove. And now the time has come to stop for the night.
We found a place that was higher, drier, and had a river nearby. We got up.
The tents were pitched. The fires were lit. And the gypsies scattered around. The adults are watching: the gypsy kids are carrying a spent cartridge, some a boot, and some a bloody overcoat... The gypsy kids drag all this and throw it on the fire. And then night comes. It’s just past midnight when the gypsies hear: the shooting has begun. Moans and screams from all sides. "Hooray!" - someone shouts. Soldiers are running, who came from nowhere, running towards the tents, falling, crawling, shooting. The gypsy dogs fell silent, their tails tucked between their legs, and the horses huddled together, snoring fearfully.
And then one stallion bucked and rushed across the field, followed by the whole herd.
The gypsies thought, the war must have begun. They got alarmed. The elder shouts:
- Gather at the tents.
The gypsies gathered: some grabbed an ax, some grabbed a gun, and let’s shoot at the soldiers.
And he himself doesn’t know who is shooting where. It seems like I got it, but it seems like I didn’t.
One almost killed his own brother in the dark; he seemed like a soldier to him.
And until the third rooster crowed, gunfire, groans and screams were heard.
At dawn the gypsies fell exhausted.
-What was that? - asked the elder. “It’s not a dream, we didn’t sleep.”
No one even slept a wink. A hundred-year-old fortune teller approached the elder and said:
“You stupid gypsies, you almost killed yourself, you almost chopped yourself with axes. Look what's going on around here!
The gypsies looked around and saw that all their tents were covered with bones, and skeletons lay around. The gypsies collected all the bones and burned them at the stake.
The next night, everything repeated again: shooting, screams, moans, only this time the dead had already reached the tents, tore down the canopies, scattered the pillows, feather beds - everything was turned upside down, crushed and broken. And when the third rooster crowed, everything became quiet again.
“We need to run away from here,” the old fortune teller said the next morning. “But the dead cannot be left in this form either.” We need to bury them properly.
The gypsies collected bones and skeletons, covered them with earth, and the old woman sprinkled the hill with clean water through a sieve and recited a spell. The gypsies wanted to leave immediately, but the elder dissuaded him:
- It’s better if they kill us all - we’ll stay! I really want to see what happens on the third night!
The third night has arrived. The gypsies lit a fire, sat down near it, and around the fire they drew a circle with black coal and made the sign of the cross. They sit and wait. As soon as midnight came, a groan and a cry was heard from underground, but no one else shot or appeared. Until dawn, the earth around was groaning, and as soon as the sun came out, everything fell silent.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru