Ишен Айтмамбетов

Страна: Кыргызстан

Увлекаюсь геологией, архитектурой, историей. Рисую. Творчеством занимаюсь с 1999 года – писал статьи для газет в разной тематике.

Country: Kyrgyzstan

 

 

 

 


The caravan goes into the fog

Dedicated to the glorious son
the Dungan people
Esenu Ismailova

1916 year. July. Pass Kailas.

 

Located on top of the world, surrounded by eternal fog, which is the defensive cordon of Tibet, the peak of Kailas.
Two golden eagles swirl high in the sky, then sink, then climb up, as if guarding the caravan.

On a winding mountain road along the mountains people were walking along the oxen, followed by horsemen on horses and camels.
The wind blowing from the ravine raised a snow storm, which prevented the way of the caravan.

A young man in a fox hat on a blue-black horse was shouting in a hoarse voice:

– Do not stop! Forward! Do not stop! Do not stop! Only forward! – He hit the whip passing by the ox along the croup several times. – There are still a little more. We need to wait a little! – spurred his horse and went forward.
Strong hands of the man in a fox hat with all their strength pulled the ring in the bow of the ox, pulling the sleigh, which made the sleigh move forward and slowly. Tied man and woman to the sleigh as a tug, they followed the sleigh.
A woman approached the crowd, sitting on a horse. She was wearing a woman’s headdress – an elekce and holding a folded whip in her hands. She climbed off the horse and walked among the crowd.

– Oh, it’s a pity how! Look, the bone has broken through! The man from behind exclaimed with regret.

“Who?” What happened? What kind of attack? – bypassing standing people, the woman exclaimed and went to the man who broke his leg.

– It is necessary to polish lumps, tie up in a broken place and put him in a sleigh. The radius of the arm is broken. Said the man, who was sitting on all fours, getting up.

– Oh my God! What are you waiting for? What are you watching? What kind of tree can there be in the bare steppe? Disassemble that yurt. Take from it a suitable device and tie it with tape – the woman was in charge. She wore a lash for her belt, took off the elephant, unwound a small piece of cloth from it and handed it to a man standing next to him. Then she moved away from the crowd, straightened her elekce and, having approached her horse, turned around and said: “Have patience, son, you have endured so much, bear it a little longer!” Be calm and tomorrow you will run to play. With that, she jumped into the saddle and jumped ahead.

“Oh, the devil take it!” Look at the sky! Golden eagle! Golden eagle! – repeated one of the standing words of the victim with mockery. – What do you want with this golden eagle? It was necessary not to look at the sky, but at the feet!
The front part of the caravan came out of the gorge and reached the wide promontory, and the rear – as if creeping out of the fog. The caravan slowly continued on its way.

Ahead appeared three horsemen.

The entangled, heated horses stuck to the onslaught of the snow storm. Three horsemen in men’s hats-the moths-looked at the mirror-smooth rocks.
“There, my children, this is Mount Kailash,” said the man standing in the middle in a fur coat from a snow leopard, and walked forward.
“There’s no turning back.” Ooh, the great Heaven, help my people! There is no road back and no strength. We ask the sky to help us. – With these words, the rider on the bay horse went ahead.

“Do not be prisoners of these rocks and lose children!” Maybe we’ll consult with people, and then we’ll act? The second asked.
“We need to cross the pass before the storm begins.” The third intervened.
The two extreme horsemen turned their horses and went back.
The average horseman on the blue will stand motionless, as if dead. Together with a snowy blizzard, people seemed to be looking at him, jumping from rock to rock, images of people leading the bridle of horses and climbing the great rocks. His big eyes, under the eyelashes covered with hoarfrost, opened even more.
“Oh, my God, where’s Brother Shaadykan?” Eshim, turn your horse! Exclaimed one of the two riders.

At that time Shaadykan dismounted from his horse, took off his fur coat from the snow leopard, threw the moth at him, placed the archa in front of him, squeezed into the saddle, set fire to it with the help of a stone, sat down and turned to the sacred mountain:

– Oo, the sacred mountain Kailas, we worship you, we, the people, who worship the sacred mountain. Save us from the snow storm that brings death. Open your arms, be merciful to us, save my people! – The snow storm intensified. “O, the sacred mountain Kailas, we will praise you for centuries.” Save my people from disaster! Whispered Shaadykan. “Oh, my God … can it be seen to me?” – he opened his eyes wide and stared at the top of the mountain. Shaadykan looked with amazement at the red-yellow-green rays on the snowy pass in the form of parallel bands …

The storm intensified, the snow began to fall harder.

When his comrades approached, Shaadykan was covered with snow to the waist.

Two riders jumped to the sitting Shaadykan, raised him from his knees, put on his fur coat and hat, brought his horse, abruptly seated in the saddle and galloped to the side of the gorge.

The horsemen let go of the reins and walked slowly along the path. Shaadykan walked thoughtfully, then turned to his companions:

– Prepare the caravan, with dawn we will go to the pass. Mountain sickness is terrible, no matter how losing people. Let all of them have felt tools for this disease. It is impossible to pull. Kailas gives good! – and rushed forward.
On a mirror smooth as a mirror, slowly moving through a dense fog, the caravan ascended to the top.

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