Once upon a time there lived a king. The king never had children. One day he was hunting in the mountains and saw a snake playing in the sun with his little snakes. “Here,” thought the king, “even a snake has children. And I am childless. I have neither a son nor a daughter, not even a baby snake.” And when he returned home, they told him: “The queen has a son: a human head, a snake body.” They named the prince Otsamanuk, which just means “little snake.” Whatever they tried to feed him, he refused everything, demanding human meat. And so the king ordered that a young girl, Serpentine, be brought to the palace every day for lunch.
The turn of the family of one poor peasant came. He had two daughters: one was his own, the other was his stepdaughter. He says to his wife: “We’ll take your daughter to the palace.” And the stepmother wants to take her stepdaughter. She rushed to make trouble and out-argued her husband. She began to collect her husband’s daughter for the Little Snake. The girl is crying, the father is crying, but nothing can be done, in the morning we have to go to the palace.
They went to bed. And the girl sees a dream, and in the dream someone appeared to her, you don’t understand who, and says: “Don’t be afraid of anything, take with you a jug of milk, a knife and an oxhide. Wrap yourself in the skin, go to Otsamanuku-Snake, cut the snake skin on him and wash him with milk. You’ll see what happens.” In the morning the girl says to the peasant: “Don’t cry, father.” Let it be what will be. Only I want to take with me a jug of milk, a knife and an oxhide. The peasant prepared everything that his daughter asked for and, hanging his head, led her to the Little Snake. The unfortunate woman was taken into one of the rooms of the royal palace and the door was locked. The girl looked around: the dim hall seemed huge, since its walls were covered in darkness. Wasting no time, she covered her head with the cowhide, hiding the knife on her chest. A jug of milk stood on the floor, very close.
Suddenly, a rustling sound was heard. Through a small gap in the fold of the cowhide, the girl saw Otsamanuk crawl up to a jug of milk and begin to drink. Having sipped a little milk, he stopped: the narrow neck did not allow him to drink further. Then Otsamanuk curled up, put his head on his tail and fell asleep.
As soon as this happened, the girl threw off the cowhide and, with quick movements of the knife, cut the snake skin on Otsamanuka. After that, she took a jug of milk and began to wash the prince’s body with it. After the entire body of the Baby Snake was washed with milk, Otsamanuk woke up and began to convulse, so much so that he knocked the girl down with a blow of his tail. Staggering, she fell, knocking out her front tooth, and lost consciousness.
When the girl woke up, she saw that a handsome young man was bending over her. Looking around, she saw a broken jug, an oxhide and a snake skin. “Yes, it’s me,” Otsamanuk,” said the young man. - You saved me. The spell is broken. I am now a man. The joy of the king and queen knew no end. Without hesitation, they arranged a wedding: the girl happily agreed to marry Prince Otsamanuk.
As expected, the girl’s parents – father, stepmother and her daughter – were also invited to the wedding feast. The feast lasted for seven days and seven nights, and on the eighth day disaster struck—the kingdom was attacked by enemies. Then Otsamanuk gathered an army and went with it against the enemy.
Meanwhile, the stepmother, burning with envy, decided to replace the bride. She was helped by the fact that there was panic in the city and in the palace at that time, and the girls were very similar to each other. Having dressed her own daughter in a wedding dress, the stepmother left her in the palace, and she secretly took the girl, the daughter of a peasant and the wife of Otsamanuk, out of the city and abandoned her alone in a distant forest. The girl wandered through the forest for a long time until she came to a forest hut. There lived a husband and wife who had a handsome golden-haired son, whose name was Arevamanuk, which means “child of the sun.” Arevamanuk was very proud that he was born so beautiful and strong. This spoiled his character so that he became very arrogant and arrogant.
The Arewamanuka family took in the poor girl. Their son, Arevamanuk, became friends with the girl. Friendship grew into affection, affection into infatuation, and infatuation into love. And soon the girl became Arevamanuk’s wife.
Once Arevamanuk was hunting in the forest. He looks: a young man is standing on the bank of the river and is all blazing like fire. “Who are you?” asked Arevamanuk. “I am Arekag,” a ray of sunshine,” was the answer. “What are you doing here?” Do you want to burn down the forest? Well, get out of here! — Arevamanuk said menacingly and raised his sword. “So the sun’s ray haunts you?” Well, if so, then know: the night that comes today will be eternal for you. You can only live at night. And woe to you, if a ray of sun falls on you, you will die immediately. So don’t waste time and build yourself a shelter,” Arekag said, flashed fire and disappeared.
Arewamanuka was seized with fear. He rushed to build a hut, but as soon as he built it, he did not dare to appear from it in daylight. Arevamanuka's wife went in search of her husband and found him in an abandoned corner of the forest, in a hut. Arevamanuk told her everything. He told about his terrible curse. The wife and her husband remained in the hut, deciding not to leave him alone in such trouble.
Soon they had a son. “You should leave here to the people,” Arevamanuk said. “Otherwise our son will run wild in the forest.” He wrote a letter and gave it to his wife. She took the child and, coming to the house of Arevamanuk’s parents, handed them a message from their son.
Arevamanuk wrote: “I am sending my wife and son to you, but I cannot be anywhere in the daylight except my hut, otherwise I will perish.” Arevamanuk's parents happily received their daughter-in-law and grandson. One day they heard their daughter-in-law rocking a child to sleep in the dark. “Go to sleep, son, bye-bye-bye,” she says. And someone’s male voice echoes: “Bay-bye-bye.” They were surprised: who could it be? They pestered the daughter-in-law with questions, and in the end she confessed. “It’s,” he says, “your son sails at night, he wants to see his little son.” But don’t invite him into your house, he must always be in his hut at dawn, otherwise death will strike him.
The old men waited for the night. We sneaked into the garden. They see their daughter-in-law walking and rocking her son in her arms. Suddenly they hear someone calling out to her and quietly making their way between the trees. They looked closely, and this was their son. They grabbed him, kissed him, hugged him, and dragged him into the house. “Don’t touch me,” Arevamanuk begged. “I can’t enter the house, I can’t stay with you, I’ll die.”
His parents didn’t believe him, they dragged him into the house, gave him water, fed him, and talked to him. Arevamanuk forgot about everything, and with the first ray of sun he fell to the ground, and his breathing froze. But life still barely glimmered in him. Mother and father shed tears, tore out their hair, but could not do anything. And the next night Arevamanuka’s mother had a dream. Someone appeared to her in a dream, she didn’t understand who, and said: “Get up quickly, put on iron shoes, take an iron staff and go to the west. Where your shoes become worn out and your staff breaks, you will find a way to resurrect your son.”
The mother got up, put on iron shoes, took an iron staff and went west. It took a long time, not a year or two. She passed through the country of white people, then the country of black people, then only birds flew around her and animals prowled, and then even those were gone, and she reached the end of the earth. And at the edge of the earth stood a beautiful palace made of blue marble. She approached the palace, and then her iron staff split, her iron shoes became leaky. She walked through the arch, found herself in a luxurious garden, walked through it, saw - again the blue arch. She passed twelve gardens and twelve arches and found herself in a blue bedroom, where exactly a thousand stars lay quietly and slept.
She moved on. He sees a golden ottoman standing, and on the ottoman sits the queen of light - Luys, the mother of Arekag - the golden ray of the sun. She saw Arevamanuka’s mother and said: “Why did you come to me, woman?” “I came to beg you to give my son back life,” the wanderer answers with a bow. “You raised a bad son,” Queen Luys answers. - Spoiled him. He became angry and wanted to kill Arekag, my son. Arevamanuka’s mother lowered her head, blushed with shame and said: “You’re right, oh queen, but he suffered a lot and changed.” Forgive him, give him back his life. You are a mother, and I am a mother, you must understand me. “So be it,” Queen Luys sighed. - Hide over there, behind the pearl blanket. Now night will come to the earth, and Arekag - a ray of sunshine - will come home. He takes a bath in the pool, and when he comes out, scoop up some water from there and wash him with this water. As soon as she said this, Arekag entered, sparkling with fire, and plunged into the pool. And when he left, Arevamanuka’s mother scooped up water and set off on her way back with a full jug. She washed Arevamanuk with sunny water, and he was resurrected, and the curse was lifted from him.
The news of this miracle spread throughout all the regions, and Otsamanuk, who returned from the war, heard about it. When he arrived at the palace, he immediately realized that his wife had been replaced. He went to Arevamanuk to ask his mother for advice, whether she could help his grief, whether she could find a way to find his wife, without whom he would still be a snake.
Otsamanuk was well received, seated at the table, and treated to food. Otsamanuk told them everything in order, and how he got to the point where the girl who saved him, staggered back, fell and broke her front tooth, the daughter-in-law smiled and a golden chisel flashed in her mouth. Otsamanuk recognized his beloved wife. Everyone here is confused and doesn’t know what to do.
Otsamanuk took Arevamanuk aside and said: “It’s not your fault, Arevamanuk, and it’s not my fault.” This is how our life turned out. Let's try our luck. Let's feed the wife some salty Khoravats, and we ourselves will take a glass of water in our hands; whoever she asks for a drink will be his wife.
They mounted their horses and rode out into the field. His wife came out with a child in her arms and called out: “Arevamanuk!” He dismounted, wanted to bring her water, and she immediately called: “Otsamanuk!” He also got off the horse. The woman, standing between them, said: “Arevamanuk, here is your son.” I give my son to you to raise, and I will go with Otsamanuk, because I am his legal wife.
She took a glass of water, drank it and left with Otsamanuk. Three apples fell from the sky: one for the one who told the story, one for the one who listened, one for the one who wound it up.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru