Once upon a time there lived a cruel khan. Somehow the khan got tired of everything: entertainment, games, dancing, and even hunting. The khan was not interested in the fate of his subjects. He doesn’t want to know or go to anything or anyone. And then a decree was issued, which was known in every village and in every valley. It said:
“Whoever manages to tell the khan seventy tales without stopping, without saying a truthful word, that person will receive as much gold as can be loaded on one camel. Whoever fails to tell the story as it should, stumbles during the story, or the story is truthful, death awaits that person. They will bury him alive in the ground and execute him the next day, and his body will become the prey of stray dogs.”
After the decree was issued, various liars flocked to the Khan's palace: some out of greed, others to become famous, and the rest simply because of poverty. But among them no one could tell such fables that the khan himself could believe. Because of the promised gold, many lost their heads. Gradually there was not a single person left who would be willing to tell seventy tales.
One day, a barefoot guy, with a thin white face, in a torn shirt, and holey pants, knocked on the khan’s silver gate. The Khan's dogs, which were sitting on iron chains, barked at him, and the guards stopped him. The guy had never been seen here before. They thought that he came from other places, but he turned out to be the son of a sweeper and an old shepherd who tended the bulls and calves of the rich.
- Boy, what do you want here? - the guards ask him arrogantly.
“I came to tell the khan seventy tales,” he answers.
The khan's guard looked him up and down, stamped his foot and said arrogantly:
“Before your head falls off your shoulders, while you’re safe and sound, get out of here!”
– I want to receive the promised gold. Take me to the Khan! – that guy boldly and firmly demanded.
Noticing this, the guard was surprised and led him to the khan.
A nondescript guy crossed the threshold of the palace and saw the khan lounging on eight multi-colored mattresses. He was very angry and silent that day. They brought delicious food to the Khan on golden dishes and sweet drinks in silver vessels and placed them on the table in front of him. Khan did not touch a single dish. I didn’t try a single drop of arza (Arza is twice-distilled vodka from kumiss or cow’s milk) and Khorza (Khorza is three-distilled vodka), and ordered it to be removed. The eldest of the servants has no blood on his face, he stands trembling with fear.
-What do you need? - the khan shouted from the bed, shaking with anger.
“The Great Khan, who observes the ancient laws of Tibet (Tibet is the birthplace of Lamaism, and the Tibetan language is the language of liturgical books, here: a true believer Buddhist), I would like to tell you seventy fables,” says the guy.
Khan was surprised by the guy’s courage, looked at him angrily and, swinging his cane with a diamond decoration with ten facets, shouted:
- Oh, you brat, you want your head to be blown off!
– The Great Khan, who observes Tibetan laws, has long been said: “When cattle are slaughtered, their blood is taken, before executing a person they give him the floor.” Listen to me before you cut off my head, and then order me to give you as much gold as can be loaded on one camel.
Khan, surprised by the guy’s calm and wise speech, was momentarily speechless. When he came to his senses, holding back his anger, he said:
- Well, speak up! I'm listening!
And the unprepossessing guy, standing in front of the khan, began to tell seventy tales:
– O great khan, who observes the laws of Tibet! What I want to tell happened a long time ago, yesterday. The sky at that time was no bigger than a saddle cloth. Our vast land was no larger than a camel's footprint. At that time, although I had not yet been born into this world, having reached the age of ten, I tended the herds of my grandson, and that was how I fed.
At that time, one fine day, in the heat, when it was difficult to breathe, I drove a herd with a stallion to a watering hole. When I arrived, I saw that the river was frozen. I decided to dig a hole in the ice, took an ax in my hands and began to chisel. He hammered and hammered, but only dulled the blade of the ax and didn’t cut a finger through. “How can I continue to make a hole?” - I thought day and night and came up with one interesting way: I tore my head from my shoulders, grabbed it tightly by the neck, swung it and hit the ice with all my strength.
Great Khan, observing the laws of Tibet! What do you think happened? As soon as I hit it, a large hole appeared in the ice. One hundred of my horses immediately drank water from it, followed by a hundred others. After this they went to graze on the ice. I took a closer look at the herd and saw that my favorite pinto mare was not there. I took off the degel (Degel is a type of outerwear) made of goat skins, stuck my reed cane into it, climbed onto it, and I looked, but there was no mare. He stuck a knife with a bone handle into the cane, climbed up there, looked, but didn’t see anything. I became sad and stuck the needle I wore near my heart into the knife. Again, with difficulty, I climbed onto the needle, looked through her ear and saw my beloved piebald mare standing on a rock in the middle of the Black Sea. A gray foal gallops around on the waves, raising sea foam.
I quickly hollowed out the cane to form a boat, made oars from the knife and swam towards the island. He swam well, but suddenly the boat hit foam and began to sink. Then I was forced to sit on a knife with a bone handle, and made oars from a cane, and in a moment I safely reached the island.
He barely caught a piebald mare, made a bridle out of a rope and sat on it. He took the foal in his arms and began to trot across the sea so that the sea became agitated.
I sit on a pinto mare and sing for joy. Suddenly she tripped over a wave and began to drown. “What should I do?” - I thought and instantly sat on the foal, took the piebald mare in my arms and quickly rushed to the other bank.
He rode and rode and reached his grazing horses. My horses were grazing among the hawthorn trees. As I tied my mare to a newly blossoming hawthorn tree, a ten-legged hare jumped out from under my feet. I ran after him. I couldn’t catch up; I was running so fast. He pulled the string and shot the arrow. The arrow's feathers hit the hare straight in the chest and came back. Then I directed the arrow with the feather forward and the tip backward. So what do you think? Then my arrow pierced the hare through and through.
He skinned the hare, separated the fat from the meat and began to collect the dung in the hem. I look - my piebald mare seems to be frightened of something and, hitting the ground with her hooves, snorts. Suddenly someone dragged her up the mountain. It turns out that I tied the mare not to a hawthorn, but to a ram with thirty branched horns. I found out about this later. I barely caught up with the mare and untied her. I returned, and the dry dung I had collected scattered in all directions, just below the clouds. It turns out that I mistook the hazel grouse for dung.
Again I had to collect dry dung. I loaded it onto my seventy-year-old dog and barely dragged it. Finally I started the fire. He put on a new boiler and began to melt the hare fat. Suddenly I see all the fat flowing out. What to do? I quickly poured the fat into a bottomless cauldron and melted it. Not a drop of fat, everything melted. All the fat was poured into the intestines of the bull. Then I started eating the meat, I wanted to eat my fill, I opened my mouth, but there was no mouth. It turns out that I forgot my head where I made the hole. I almost cried out of frustration. Without thinking twice, he began to push the meat straight into his throat, and from there into his stomach. I ate so much that I couldn’t get up, wiped my hands on the top of one gutul (Gutul is a type of shoe), and forgot about the other.
Lay down to rest. At night I woke up because my feet were frozen. I hear noise, screams, a fight is going on. I see two of my gutuls fighting. One gutul says to another: “Eat, eat this!” Taste it! That’s for eating fat from the owner’s hands, and this is from me, who was forgotten!” - and punches the one who got the fat. I stood up and barely parted my guts. “Stop being angry, you can’t do anything now. Apparently, you were born into this world unhappy,” I told the offended man, lay down between them and fell asleep in the warmth.
I woke up because it was starting to get cold. There is no gutul that I accidentally offended. He got angry at me and ran away. I pulled one gutul on both legs and rushed after the fugitive. I run, I run after him. I ran all day without rest. But I can’t catch up with the fugitive gutul.
I ran after him for a whole month. Nobody saw him. I ran for a whole year without rest, but it still didn’t come.
In search of gutul, I went into one house. And there is a big holiday, people are having fun. There are many people serving guests. I suddenly found myself in the very middle of the feasting people. In front of the guests are full dishes of meat and archi. I looked closely... Let my eyes run out! O great khan, observant of the laws of Tibet! Who do you think caught my eye? My gutul is covered in fat and sweat. I said in surprise: “Catch me!” Gutul turned in my direction and almost dropped the tray of meat out of fear. He was afraid that I would start beating him, and, trying to please me, he brought me meat. “You spared the fat on your arms for me. Eat, my greedy master, eat everything on the tray!” - he says.
He placed a whole mountain of meat around me. I ate the meat to my heart's content, and then sent the gutul for my head. He brought my head and put it in its place. My teeth became very sharp from a long rest, so I ground the whole mountain of meat with them.
I put on my gutuls and returned to the horses. The meat and the intense heat made me thirsty, so I went to the river. I went down the bank, stuck my head into the hole and began to drink water so that my forehead was swollen and my shoulders straightened. I wanted to get up, but I couldn’t. “Why did my body become heavy as a stone?” – I thought. It turned out that when I was drinking water, my long and thick beard got caught in the teeth of a seven-meter taimen. I barely pulled out my beard and taimen.
He traded a seven-meter taimen for a bustard. O great khan, observant of the laws of Tibet! That bustard was very large: larger than a two-humped camel, and it drank water from the deepest well without bending over. What a bustard it was!
Khan thought that the guy had finished his story about seventy fables without a hitch and would have to give him the lost gold.
- Or maybe the bottom of the well was shallow?
“Maybe it was shallow.” Why do I think this? When you throw a stone into a well in the morning, it only reaches the bottom in the evening,” the guy says without being taken aback.
- At that time, the days were probably short? - asks the khan.
– Maybe they were short. When your father stole my father's sheep and was caught, my father began to pull out his hair one hair at a time. Only in the evening did your father return home completely bald and with a red head.
- You're lying! - the khan shouted and immediately fell silent.
– O great khan, who observes the laws of Tibet! I told you everything that I saw with my own eyes. If I told everything that I heard from people, then I would tell it to a ripe old age,” the guy said and finished his story.
- Give this guy the promised gold from my treasures! - the khan shouted, did not say another word and died two days later.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru