On the days of old, they say so,

Was a land unseen, unheard-of;

On the four sides by the waters

Was that desert land surrounded.

There the foot of man stepped never

But for Yanbirde, an old man,

And old Yanbike, his woman —

In that land the only people.

And all roads were open to them;

They forgot where they came from,

Where lay their native country,

Where they had left their parents,

Strangely that escaped

their memory.

And they were the first-comers,

The first settlers on that island,

With no living soul all over,

Two of them, until the woman

Bore two sons unto her husband;

Shulgan was the elder son’s name

And the younger one was Ural.

They saw none of other people,

Living four of them together,

Unconcerned about household,

Unconcerned with pots and kettles,

They did not bake, hung no copper;

That was how they all subsisted.

And they knew no ailment,

nor Death,

And they used to say: "We bear Death

Ourselves to every live thing.”

Not on horseback rode they hunting,

Nor did they take bows and arrows,

For they kept some beasts

for hunting,

Treating them as their equals,

Beasts of prey: a lion for riding,

And a pike to take out fishing,

And a falcon trained for falconing,

And a black leech to suck game blood.

Either it comes down from old times

Or from Yanbirde it comes down,

But the olden custom has it

In that land unseen, unheard-of:

If a beast of prey they captured,

And the beast was of the male sex,

Both the old man and his woman

Would cut off the head and eat it,

And the remnants they would give up

Both to Shulgan and to Ural,

To their hound and to their lion,

To the pike and to the falcon;

If the beast of prey was female,

Both the old man and his woman

Would cut out the heart and eat it;

If they caught a beast with antlers,

They would set the black leech on it,

That it might suck all the blood out,

And would make a beverage of it.

As their children were growing,

As their children took to hunting,

Their parents did not let them

Eat the game’s head,

eat the game’s heart,

They did not allow their children

To taste wild game blood and drink it,

"This you must not do!” they ordered.

Growing daily, growing weekly,

Both the children grew judicious.

Only twelve years old was Shulgan,

And ten years of age was Ural.

"I will ride the lion”, one said,

"I’ll go falconing”, said the other.

As no rest they gave their father,

Yanbirde admonished saying,

"You, my sons, my dear children,

You, black apples of my own eyes,

Till your milk teeth all have

dropped out,

Till you are strong enough in body,

You should not handle the sukmar,

You should not go hunting,

falconing,

You should never ride the lion,

For your time is due to come yet,

Meanwhile eat what I deliver,

Meanwhile do as you are ordered,

Master riding — saddle a roe-buck,

Master falconing — set the falcon

On a flock of nearby starlings.

If a-playing you feel thirsty,

Drink fresh water, do not taste blood,

Dare not drink it from the mussels.”

Thus old Yanbirde instructed

And forebade again his children

To quench thirst with blood

of wild game.

Once the old man and his woman

Were away as usual hunting,

While at home stayed both their

children.

And to while away the long time,

Since the parents went a-hunting,

The two boys were busy talking

And discussing various subjects,

And they talked of food

and drink, too.

Shulgan knew that their father

Had forbidden them to taste blood,

"Dare not drink!” Yanbirde

told them,

Yet, on some consideration,

He began inciting Ural,

And he spoke to him in this wise:

"Should it really be no pleasure

To slay living things in hunting,

Should blood really be not sweet

drink,

Then our father and our mother

Would not give up their night sleep,

Sparing neither time nor effort,

Tired and exhausted, would not

Day by day go out hunting,

Leaving us to ourselves here.

If I am not mistaken, Ural,

Let us take the blood-filled mussels

And from each let’s take a little,

Let us know the taste of blood now.”

Ural said: "My father’s order

I’ll fulfil and do my duty.

And the taste of blood I’ll relish

After learning the traditions,

After rounding the entire world,

After I have made quite certain

That on Earth there is no dying,

That the world knows not what

Death is,

And I will not slay a live thing

With a sukmar in my right hand,

When I’m thirsty I will not quench

Thirst with blood sucked

by the black leech

And filled full into the mussels.”

Shulgan said: "Death, that is

stronger

Than mankind, will not come hither

And will find us here never.

By the phrase of our father,

That he’s constantly repeating,

‘We bear Death to every live thing.’

He has told us this beforehand,

If it is so, why be fearful,

Why so dread a gulp of blood-drink?”

Ural said to him in this wise:

"There are beasts both fast

and frisky,

Stately-shapen, strong in body,

Cautious, quick-eared

in the day-time,

And at night they sleep a light sleep.

Spotted leopards, lions, red deer,

Bears, as well as other creatures

Are not any worse than we are.

A wild beast may have a bad hoof

Or a bad paw cut with dry grass,

Still they’re never lame in this leg,

And in summer heat they never

Have to take off their clothing,

Icy winter-storms will hardly

Make them put on some

more clothing,

Never do they hold a sukmar,

Never set a falcon on game-bird,

And they never need a hunter

To be set on fur and feather,

Need no pike to go a-fishing.

Of the beasts of prey there’s no one

They depend on for their living,

Only fangs and claws as weapons

And themselves they have

to count on,

And they know not what fatigue

means,

What it means to dread and tremble.

This is their way of living,

Both of lions and of leopards.

But for all their upright courage,

But for awe in which they keep flesh,

Yet with their paws entangled,

With a knife to their gorges,

Their eyes with tears well up,

Won’t their hearts with terror

flutter!

But the Fierce Death they’re

scared of,

One of which reminds our father,

Never has been seen around here.

It is humankind that is Death!

Do not all wild creatures think so?

Here the pike goes hunting roaches,

And the marmot hunts the gopher,

And the vixen hunts the field hare,

And it’s true of every live thing,

Once you start to think it over:

Is not Fierce Death triumphant

Over those who are the weaker?

We catch creatures scared of dying,

Diving fish in deep blue waters,

Wood-birds twittering

on high rocks,

Flying off when they are frightened,

After catching eat their heads off,

And their chests we tear asunder,

So we may eat their hearts too,

And we think we are superior.

We enjoy to hunt the weaker,

Having introduced the custom,

Having sowed Death in this country

In the same ferocious nature,

All the live think that the humans

Are the most ferocious creatures,

The undoing of the living!

Should their fangs turn into sukmars

And their hearts into bold falcons,

Should they gather all united,

Fall upon us all together,

Can it be that Death Ferocious

Of which father has been saying

Then will make here an appearance?”

Although Shulgan answered

nothing,

Lost in thought he seemed, but truly

He did not heed Ural’s warning,

But instead he took the mussels,

Sipped some blood and made

his brother

Promise never to betray him.

With a plenteous bag their parents

Came back home from hunting,

fishing,

And, respecting the tradition

To the meal they sat together,

Four of them, and started eating,

After tearing up the wild game.

And while eating Ural thought hard,

Then he spoke and said in this wise:

"Father, here lies the body

Of the beast you chased

and slaughtered,

Of the beast that vainly scampered

As you did attain your target,

As you thrust your knife into him.

Can a living thing come hither,

Knife in hand, and slay us likewise?”

And the old man said:

"We bear Death

Ourselves to all the living,

Whose death hour’s struck already.

And whatever rooks and thickets

Game may try to skulk and hide in,

All the same we come and find them,

Thrusting our knives into them.

But to chase a human being,

Knife him dead and eat his body

There is someone to be born yet,

And no Death can yet undo us.

This land Death has never haunted,

But the country whence

we come from,

But the land of our forefathers

Death would constantly revisit,

Till one day a dread-dev came there,

Made away a lot of people,

Eating them all young and living,

And the land was flushed by waters,

With no single spot of dry ground.

Those who were spared hastened

To forsake the land for ever,

Leaving Death behind them raging,

For there was no soul to ruin.

Death thought no one could

escape Him

And did not behold your parents

Flee away and hide in this land,

In the land unseen, unheard-of,

Where the foot of man stepped never,

Where pursuit would be unlikely,

Where was scarce fur and feather

At the time we settled down here,

And the ground was damp

and sodden

From the pools and swamps all over.”

Ural said: "O father, tell me:

Can a person seek and trace Death,

Can one track down and ruin Him?”

Answered Yanbirde: "This Evil

Is invisible to man’s eye,

And unnoticed is His motion.

There’s but one thing that can

ruin Him:

In the country of the dev-shah

Babbling spurts a spring of magic.

Any man that tastes its water,

So they say, becomes immortal

And to Death will not be subject.”

That was what Yanbirde said about Death. Upon finishing his meal he brought the mussels to have some blood. Old Yanbirde saw that they were half-empty and tried to find out which of his sons had been drinking. Shulgan lied to him saying, "No one has been drinking!” Old Yanbirde took his cudgel and began to beat his both sons taking turns. Despite this Ural, who was sorry for his brother, held on his tongue, but Shulgan gave way and admitted his guilt. When Old Yanbirde took up beating Shugan, Ural held his father by the arm and spoke in this wise:

"Pray, yourself remember, father,

In your hand you have a cudgel,

That once used to be a sapling,

But you’ve stripped it of its

young rind,

Blunted out at the edges,

Turning it into a dry stick.

Ere you cut off this young sapling

In a wood it had been growing,

Quietly swaying in a light breeze,

With its green leaves gently

quivering

And with buzzing bees upon them,

Taking turns with chirping birdies,

As the chirping birds would pick up

Twigs to build nests for their

chickens.

Yes, a nice tree it was sometime!

Through its roots, in all ways

sprawling,

It could, like a sucking baby,

From the ground suck out moisture

Hitherto, and now it’s cut off,

Severed from its native kin-root,

Clear of twigs and knots and young

rind;

It looks more like your

stone-hammer,

Like a falcon for bird-catching,

Like a pike that goes a-fishing,

Like a leech that sucks out

game-blood,

Like a hound trained for fowling,

Turning this into a cudgel!

Wiping sweat off from

your forehead,

You have lived long years, father,

But of Death, the greatest evil,

You know not the evil aspect,

In your heart you cannot feel Him.

If you smite this child again now,

Does it not mean that a parent

Is prepared in his own home

To abandon his own children,

For to show how Death goes over,

From the stronger to the weaker,

From a father to a sapling?

If today you slay my brother,

If you slay myself tomorrow,

In your old age you’ll be lonely,

You shall waste away, grow crooked,

No more fit to ride your lion,

Fit no more to go a-hunting,

To go falconing no longer,

Never any longer able

To provide your beasts

with foodstuff,

So your lion, and your falcon

And your hound, and your

black leech,

Being famished and exhausted,

With their blood-shot eyes will

watch you,

So your hungry riding-lion

Will run riot in a fury,

Break his leash and fall upon you,

Bend you down to tear to pieces,

What is to become of you then?

Will you not have, dear father,

To give welcome in your own home

To the Evil named Death-villain?

On hearing this old Yanbirde stopped beating Shulgan as he thought, "Death may come unseen. Probably, He is here tempting me. It cannot be that no one has ever encountered Death. It s necessary to assemble fur and feather and make inquiries.” And he summoned them, and they assembled, and Ural addressed them in this wise, as the story goes:

"Let us recollect together

All the aspects of Death-villain.

Why not give up the tradition

That the stronger eat the weaker?

Of your kin and kindred someone

Always will refrain from

blood-drink,

Tasting neither blood, nor live flesh,

Making no one cry ere dying.

Some eat roots and others

green grass,

This is just their way of living:

Rearing, feeding their young ones,

That their young may be devoured

By some beast of prey, flesh-eater,

Thus with Death they are

acquainted.

And they don’t befriend

bloodsuckers,

Do not mix with wild flesh-eaters.

Let us put an end to Evil,

Death that walks alone among us

We shall find and do away with!”

Shulgan and the beasts flesh-eaters

Were against this proposition,

And they spoke their minds

expanding,

And the raven said as follows:

"I am not afraid to trace Death,

But to capture and deliver

I will never take upon me.

Long on Earth as I’ve subsisted

I have no concerns in chasing.

And to tell you in addition:

If the stronger hunt no longer,

If the weaker hide no longer,

If no offspring of a mother

Is to die, I find it no good.

If on Earth both trees and bushes

Change their nature altogether,

Shedding their green no longer,

When they are frosted

in the autumn,

What’s the good of it for living?

Fancy beasts such as the grey hare,

Propagating every half-year,

Nibbling, eating all the verdure,

Feeding in the night and day-time,

Fancy other beasts all over,

Roaming round in quest

of green food,

Fancy various fowls of feather,

Here the swan and here

the wild goose,

In a river all at one time

Bathing, diving, splashing water,

Covering the water-surface.

If no longer flow the waters,

Washing river-banks no longer,

And this usage stands for ever,

Then this awkward situation

For the fowls, bathing, splashing,

May cause trouble and commotion.

If the springs well up no longer,

If the water becomes rotten,

There is nothing left but perish,

For there’ll be no food for eating,

And to drink there’ll be no water.

I have risked my head in battle,

Often making wasteful efforts,

I’ve seen hardship, thirst

and famine,

Yet, for all my need and hardships,

In this world I cannot keep on,

If I get no blood for drinking,

If I get no flesh for eating,

If I peck not once in three days

In the eyelids of some carrion.

So I cannot go to search Death,

Cannot pledge my word to do it.”

Said the magpie: ”Anybody

Who is so afraid to meet Death

Will be striving for salvation,

Those who’re after propagating

Will go looking for a fit place.”

And these words were approved of

By the tiger, and the panther,

By the wolf, the ounce, the lion,

By the pike-fish with his death-bite,

But the animals grass-eaters:

The grey duck, the crane,

the wild goose,

The black-cock, the quail,

the partridge

Were set upon their nestlings.

They thought they would settle

in thickets,

Peacefully to hatch their fledgelings,

Till the latter became stronger,

Till they learned to use their pinions,

Till the summer was not over,

They preferred at large to fatten.

And the wild goat, and the red deer

And the brown grey hare kept silent,

Not a word articulated,

Taking great pride in his hind legs,

And the starling, and the sky-lark,

And the daw, the crow, the sparrow,

Who ate aught and nothing special,

Were thus ashamed to cut in.

"I’ve no nest,” thus said the cuckoo,

"I have no concern of nestlings

And agree with those who cherish,

Those who pine for their dearest,

Those whose children are their

heart-blood,”

Thus it was the cuckoo spoke out.

Thus they spoke their hearts

and argued,

But they never reached agreement,

Unanimity among them,

Till it was the time to break up.

And thenceforth became the old man

Cautious, wary, on the look-out,

By himself he never went out.

Once they four of them together

Went a-hunting, went a-fishing,

Stepped their feet on trails

and pathways,

With a bagful, with a big catch

Coming back home glad and gleeful.

Of their prey there was a white swan,

And the old man had it tied up,

Set his knife sharp and was going

To behead the white swan quickly,

But the white swan started wailing,

Wept and eased her heart as follows:

"I have flown the world all over,

As no common fowl of feather,

But I’m not a homeless orphan,

For far off I’ve got my home-land.

When the whole Earth was a desert,

Where the foot of man stepped never,

Never could my father match-mate,

For on Earth there was no mating

As he could not choose his equal

Among alien stocks and families.

So he flew into the heaven,

Set on finding his beloved mate,

And, while picking out his dearest,

He admired the Sun at day-time,

And he loved the Moon at night-time,

Spelling both the luminaries,

He, that bears the name of Samrau,

He, the head of all the bird stocks,

And the padishah among them,

And the father of two children,

Knowing neither mischief,

nor death.

Let me go, pray, to my homeland,

Back where lies my native country.

If you tear me to pieces,

If you chew me up and swallow,

I’ll be ill food for your stomach

That will never be digested,

For I am the Sun‘s own daughter,

One whose mother-sun gets water

From the Spring of Life to wash me,

Ere her sunrays fall to dry me.

Let me go, because my father

All the same will find a way here

And will come to help me, Humai,

Shah Samrau’s begotten daughter.

Letting down my hair-sunrays

I can sweep away this country,

With the sun-rays in the day-time

And at night-time with

the moonlight.

Let me go back to my homeland;

In reward for this I’ll show you

To the Spring of Life the passage.”

On hearing this old Yanbirde and his old woman Yanbike turned to their sons for advice. Shulgan claimed that they must eat the bird and Ural thought they had better let her go, so they had a row. Ural snatched the swan out of Shulgan’s hands and laid her aside. "Cheer up, I shall have a snack now and take you to your parents!” he consoled her. As soon as they sat down to table the swan waved her right wing, dropping three pinions. She besmeared them with blood oozing from her broken wing and the three pinions were changed into three swans who took away Humai, the swan-maid.

Old Yanbirde and his sons wished they had inquired of the way to the Spring of Life. Then the old man told Shulgan and Ural to follow the birds and search for the Spring of Life, and, if they encountered Death on their way, they were to chop off His head and bring it home. He helped his sons to mount the lion and saw them off.

So together with his brother

Counting days and years, Ural

Over rock and over river,

Thorough brake and thorough forest,

As the story goes, rode forward.

And one day they saw a river,

With a grey-haired old man seated

In the shadow of a lone tree,

Growing near by the river;

In his hand he held a long staff.

After they exchanged

their greetings,

The grey-haired elder asked them

Where they headed for

and wherefore.

As he learned of their mission,

Long the old man meditated,

Long his snow-white beard stroking,

Closely stared at them and uttered,

Pointing out to a crossroad:

"Here are two roads before you.

If you take the left-hand passage,

You shall have but gladsome tidings.

Day and night at peace together

Mirthful, gleeful are at meadow

Both the grey wolf and

the grey sheep,

And the wood chicks live rejoicing

Side by side with thicket foxes,

Just like friends who never quarrel.

Shah swan-Samrau rules

this country,

Rules the land that you are seeking,

No blood-drinkers, nor flesh-eaters,

Fierce-Death completely shut out,

For they keep up the tradition:

It is good that pays for good deeds.

If you take the right-hand passage,

You shall find but wails

and moaning.

This is the notorious country

Ruled by cruel great-shah Katil.

From shah Katil and his servants

All year round suffer people,

And there seems no end to wailing,

For with human bones is covered,

For with blood the ground is

soaked wet.”

Thus they learned of hereafter,

Thought it over and decided:

They must cast the die to tell them

Of the roads they were to follow.

Shulgan’s was the right-hand

passage,

Thus it was his lot had fallen,

But he nonetheless objected.

"I am older,” he explained so,

"So the left-hand road is for me,”

Thus it was he said departing.

Ural had to take the right-hand,

Striding over stream and mountain,

And the way lay long before him.

But at length he reached

a mount-foot,

Where he saw an aged woman,

With her bare back in blood-wales

Slashed, disfigured, mutilated,

And it looked as if a fierce wolf

Long had preyed upon the stranger,

As with chaps her legs were covered,

As her legs were like a hen’s legs,

And it looked that she had

long delved

In the soil for roots to feed on,

And her hollow cheeks were sallow,

And frost-bitten grass her lips were,

Withered muscles on her both calves

Looked like seams and sears on hewed

wood,

And her knobby joints stood out.

Clinging to this wreck of woman,

Either fearful or bashful,

Stood a lovely sunburnt maiden.

As her hair she let go down,

To the waist her back it covered,

And her arms and legs were shapen

Beautifully, as if chiselled

Out of wood, and like a falcon

Who had had a feast on game-bird

She looked stately with her

high breast,

And her eyes were like blue lakes,

Shining brightly through the rushes,

And she had a slender figure,

With a small waist like a bee has.

On approaching Ural hailed her,

"Never fear, fair maiden.

I come from a far-away land

Where I set out on this journey

As a child and have been growing

On my way through many countries.

Never do I harm to people,

Never spill blood, nor do evil,

And the Evil of Death I’ll finish.

Come here, tell me where you

come from.”

As he spoke they smiled at Ural,

Standing up, the elder woman

Smoothed her hair long, dishevelled,

And behind her ears set it.

As she straightened herself a little,

Eyes wide open, the old woman

Spoke to him and said in this wise:

"So you are here from afar-off,

And you mean no harm to people.

Woe is us, oh, that you knew things,

Things the way they stand

around here,

Oh, that you saw with your own eyes

Katil-padishah’s misdoings!

Every year he holds the choosing,

Choosing out the best and gifted,

Men and women, youths

and maidens,

And he chooses them regardless

Of their age, it does not matter.

Hand and foot he gets them tied up,

Gets them convoyed to his palace,

To have maids at his disposal,

To give jegets to his daughter,

While the padishah’s retainers

Are content with the remainder.

But the rest of these, left-overs,

They spare not for all their wailing,

To the lake they draw fair maidens,

Though they be both hale and hearty,

As an offering of man’s blood

Once a year to give honour

To his birthday and his idols.

Of the dozen of my children

Four in such wise have been taken,

And five more have drowned in water,

And my husband has gone crazy,

For it’s more he could endure,

Losing nine of our young ones.

Once beside himself with passion

He stood up for our children

And attacked a shah’s retainer,

But the same day he was dug in,

Dug alive into the black ground.

Though my last, my youngest

daughter

Came through, spared of misfortune,

Vengefully the shah’s retainer

Claims to have my daughter for him.

There is no one like her for me,

So we both fled to the forest,

Joining all the other mothers,

With their children and escaped men,

Hiding there in the thicket,

Shedding floods of tears and wailing.

With your kind heart free of hatred

Go no farther, my good jeget,

Pray, do not go any farther,

For this is a bloody country.”

"Many pathways have I trodden,

Stridden over stream and mountain,

And wherever Death is hiding

Years spent in searching for Him,

And until I’ve found and slain Him,

And until I’ve chopped His head off

And fulfilled my pledge of honour –

Put an end to Death for ever,

I will not bear the name Ural!”

Thus it was he said departing,

Having mounted on his lion,

Making for shah Katil’s wonning.

Riding quickly in a few days

He came on a crowd of people;

Closely side by side in long lines

They were standing stripped

of clothing,

And like twins alike the men were,

And the women separated

From the men, were likewise

lined too,

Katil-shah’s men being busy

Dressing all the ranks by pushing

And by lashing their bare backs.

Of the lashed no one protested,

No one dared gripped by terror.

Ural rode up there and took in

At a glance the busy maidan.

Not far off, beyond those lined up

Stood their parents holding babies,

Overwhelmed, distraught

with sorrow,

Waving their hands and wailing,

Tears streaming down their faces.

Ural asked them what had happened,

Ere reporting of his mission,

And they all attended to him,

And a looker-on, an old man,

Spoke to him and said in this wise:

"Jeget, judging from the marvel

Wherewith you look around you,

From this lion you are riding,

I believe you are a stranger.

Great-shah Katil rules this country

With the help of his retainers,

Who are all of various kindreds,

And they practise celebrating

Every year Katil’s birthday,

When in honour of his parents,

And the well wherein the babe-shah

Had a bathe upon his first day,

As a matter of convention

There’s an offering of blood made.

Katil-great shah’s battle standard

Bears the picture of a raven.

Once a year they feed such ravens,

Those black ravens watching closely,

Have you seen before such ravens?

As the ravens scent their feast-prey,

They will perch upon a high rock

To keep watching fair maidens,

Dragged and drowned in the shah’s

well,

Drowned now and then dragged

outward,

Their bodies strewn all over

For the birds to feast upon them,

Tied up hand and foot, the jegets

Of good stock and reputation;

For herself one of these jegets

Picks the daughter of the great-shah,

For himself picks Katil servants,

Sacrificing the remainder

To the dreadful monster Tengry.”

Hardly had the old man finished

His so sorrowful narration

When the daughter of the great shah

Came in sight on her sedan-chair,

Guilded chair borne by carriers,

Walking on the chair’s four sides

Close behind a Ture followed,

In the rear stately marching,

And it was announced loudly,

As the train went past the people:

"Everyone rejoice, make merry,

Here comes the great

shah’s daughter!”

Some were lashed without sparing,

As they failed to keep the order.

And while Ural, silent, speechless,

Stood in line with other jegets,

At the maidan stepped the daughter

Of the shah and started choosing,

Walking by the lines of jegets

Gathered for examination.

There was no one to her liking,

And she could not pick among them,

Till she stopped short near Ural,

Cast a knowing glance upon him,

Meanwhile giving him an apple,

Thus her picking discontinued.

Then she motioned to her servant

To take Ural to her chamber

And, remounting her sedan-chair,

Guilded chair with four carriers,

Ordered going to the palace.

"Katil’s daughter cares for him,

Katil’s son-in-law he’ll make soon!”

Thus the maidan raised an uproar

And the great-shah’s servants

bustled,

Trying to disperse the gathering

And instructing Ural: "Jeget,

The princess is waiting for you,

So go straight into the palace.”

Trying hard to give directions,

Someone offered walking Ural

To the palace, thus remarking,

"You are our son-in-law now,”

Patting Ural on the shoulder

With a flattering affection.

Ural, though, would not accept it.

"Unaware of local customs,

I must see how matters stand first.

If some day I feel like mating,

To the palace I’ll go straightway,”

Thus it was the jeget answered,

Turning down the suggestion.

Of the jeget’s square answer

Katil’s servants turned resentful,

Straightway sent word

to the maiden,

While appeared shortly after

At the maidan great-shah Katil.

Running high was his excitement,

When, preceded by his heralds,

By four baturs closely circled

On his slave-borne high sedan-chair,

Like a camel raving, raging,

Like a bear, huge, blood-thirsty,

With his bloodshot eyes all swollen,

And ferocious in his anger,

With a nape fit for a wild-boar,

And his legs quite elephantine,

With his paunch puffed out and ugly,

Like a saba filled with kumys,

All and sundry bowing to him,

Katil-shah made his appearance,

As it was his turn to choose now.

And he sorted out, saying,

While he walked along, in this wise:

"Here’s a good hand for the palace,

There’s one good enough

for burning.”

After he was through with

men-slaves,

He picked out beauteous maidens,

And, examining a beauty,

Thus he said to a retainer:

"See the teeth,” and touched

her bosom,

Stroked her waist, until she buried

In her hands her blushing visage.

"She is fitting for the palace,

See the rest and take the best ones,

Take as many as may please you,”

Ordered he to his retainer.

"Now in honour of my mother

In the well drown the remainder,

Drown wherein I had my first bathe,

My first bathe upon my birthday.”

In the meantime came his daughter

And, approaching Ural, told him

Words of ire that reproached him,

"You’re the one that I have chosen,

And in token of my fair choice

I have given you the apple,

Making you my man and equal,

But my love-couch disdaining,

You’ve rejected my proposal,

And before my father’s servants

You have shamed my face,

besmirched it!”

At her ireful reproving

From his guilded chair rose Katil,

"Of what kindred is the jeget

That has so disgraced my daughter?”

He turned sputtering to Ural,

Thus he spoke and said in this wise:

"Hear, jeget, of my kindred

And the name I bear – shah Katil.

Only too well wit all people,

Those who are and aren’t

my subjects,

Even beasts and birds of feather,

Dead men under their tomb-stones,

Every living thing knows Katil.

Like my own, my daughter’s orders

Are obeyed without lingering,

So, how dare you disdain them,

Disrespectful to my customs?”

"I know not of any great-shah,

Who calls slaying men a custom.

Never have I seen this practice,

Neither heard of it before now,

In my ranging though the whole world,

In my wandering around it.

‘Tis Death-Evil I am after,

It is Death I strive to finish,

And because I do not fear it,

I do not fear monstrous customs.

Death may come to any live thing,

Lay His hand on any creature,

Be it human being or fledgeling,

But I will not stand by idly,

Watching Life unjustly taken,

Though before it at my leisure

I can form my own opinion

Through the lore of local customs.”

Ural’s words brought home to Katil

That the jeget was a stranger,

While his men and his advisers

Standing round him grew jealous

Of their sovereign’s daughter’s

option,

Of the choice that was upon him.

But the padishah grew furious

And addressed his daughter saying,

"Take not such a dolt as this one,

Pine not for a good-for-nothing,

Go back, daughter, to the palace,”

As the story goes, he said thus.

"Dare you not delay the offering,

Throw these maids into the water,

Make a bonfire of these jegets,

Put this jeget into shackles

And bring straightway

to my chamber.”

Thus it was he told his baturs,

Occupying his sedan-chair,

While his servants were preparing

To execute all the doomed folks,

Throwing some into the water,

Burning others in the bonfire.

As the people forced to face Death

Started wailing, started moaning,

Forward Ural rushed and spoke thus:

"I have pledged my word to end Death

And to set free everybody

Dying, suffering from the ruthless,

The bloodthirsty dev-man-eater,

With the water of the Life-Spring

From the dead to raise all dead men!

I was born a batur for this!

Can a man born as a batur

Stand by watching people suffer,

Watching Death lay hands upon

them,

Take their lives before his own eyes?

Can a miscreant scare a batur,

So he gives way to the miscreant?”

"Off, with ye, retainers,” yelled he,

"Get off the sedan, ye, great-shah!

I demand that all these maidens,

All these slaves should be

unfettered!”

Hearing this shah Katil puffed up,

Flushed with rage, and cursed,

and shouted,

Then he spoke and said in this wise,

"If he’s after Death-bloodthirsty,

Let him see Death and remember,

Let him bear in mind my country!”

Menacingly Katil said thus,

While four baturs stepped

out forward,

All like bears, big and shaggy,

And as huge as dev-man-eaters.

"Will you fight or will you wrestle?

Take your pick!” they said to Ural.

Ural answered: "Better stay safe,

Better think it over foremost!

Find a mightier beast than you are!”

At his words they roared

with laughter:

"What a fearless batur you are!”

Thus hey mocked, derided Ural,

Both the shah and his retainers.

Then into a rage the shah flew,

And without a moment’s thinking

Ordered so: "If he’s bloodthirsty,

Bring the bull that props my palace,

While you, baturs, wait a little.”

Everyone was waiting, frightened,

Having heard the shah pronounce it,

Feeling sympathy for Ural,

Thinking that he was a goner,

And the great-shah’s only daughter

Came forth to beseech her father:

"Stop it, father, pray, have mercy;

‘Pick you groom,’ you said, did

not you?

As you gave me your permission,

So I picked this jeget for me

As my groom, my future husband,

But you, father, never let me

Have a word with my own jeget.

Stop it, father, pray, have mercy!”

But for all her supplication

He did not heed her entreaty,

And, as heavy as a mountain,

Sputtering in rage and pawing,

Howling, down the bull came

tearing.

Stopping dead he looked at Ural,

Turned his head a little sideways:

"I will trample not upon you,

Till you, rot, turn into ashes

To be scattered by a windflow,

High upon my horns I’ll lift you,

High upon my horns I’ll dry you,”

Thus it was the bull told Ural.

"Listen, bull, I, too, will spare you,

I will not be your undoing,

And I will spare my efforts

Not to mess about with you.

That of all your fellow-mortals

In the world man is the strongest

And the master of your bull stock,

I will make ye, bull, acknowledge.”

Hearing this the bull grew furious,

Rushed at Ural-batur, aiming

High upon his horns to raise him.

By his horns did Ural-batur

Take the bull, who tried to pierce

him,

But for both his horns he could not

Tear himself away from Ural,

Sinking knee-deep in the black

ground,

And from great strain blood came,

spurting,

From his mouth dripping downward,

And his upper tooth out coming,

He grew weaker, till he broke down.

Side by side with his retainers

Katil watched the bull defeated,

With the utmost confusion,

But the batur kept his promise,

He was not the bull’s undoing,

By the horns he tightly gripped him,

Pulled his ground-stuck legs

outward,

Set him steady on the firm ground,

With his four hoofs cracked asunder,

All cracked off and filled with red sand,

Wet and soaked with blood his hoofs

were.

Ural said: "These horns I’ve bent now

Shall be bent for ever henceforth.

In your gap-toothed mouth another

Upper tooth shall never spring up,

And your fork-like hoofs shall never

Close in and these sheer distinctions

Your posterity’ll inherit.

Now that man’s power you’ve tested,

Bear in mind – you are the weaker,

So don’t menace with horn-butting

Man that’s fought and overcome

you.”

"Fall on him, you four together,”

Katil signalled to his baturs,

Who addressed and questioned Ural:

"Should you die the death of batur,

Whither shall we pitch your body?

Should you still survive and come

through,

Name the land where we could

pitch you!”

Thus one of the four said boasting.

One against four mighty baturs,

Ural was not gripped by terror,

But stepped forth and thus addressed

them:

"All the four of you, come over!

Come and test me as a batur,

Test the ranger Death a-hunting!

If you’re brave enough to kill me,

Give my body to the lion,

If you’re strong enough to pitch me,

To the Spring of Life transport me!

Let me question in my turn now:

Where’s the place where I could

dump you,

Moth-like creatures, flapping,

fluttering,

In my hand held apprehensive?

After having smashed the dread-devs

I will make a detour going

To the Spring of Life for water

And come back for your dead bodies

Ground to dust, and for your

moth souls,

Clasped in hand and panic-stricken.

Whither shall I go to find you?”

Whereat they burst out laughing,

"Come on us and throw in wrestling,

To the shah’s and his suite’s pleasure

Down at their feet you throw us!”

In derision so they held him,

Ere they five of them together

Came to grips and had a combat.

Ural grabbed one fast and hurled

him,

At the great-shah’s feet he hurled

him,

At the feet of his retainers,

Likewise hurled the other baturs,

While the earth deep down trembled,

And the shah with his retainers,

With his baturs altogether

Turned to dust and turned to ashes.

Mothers shedding tears, weeping,

Fathers wailing, and their children,

Bound up hand and foot

and spell-bound,

Watched this wonderous

transformation,

But regaining their senses,

Rushing forth, saluted Ural

As a hero and their saviour.

To the runaways in hiding

He sent word that they were

free now,

And he chose the king, the ruler,

So that he might rule the country,

And the people called a Yayen

Shortly ere his departure

In his honour, in his glory.

While among the guests sat Ural,

One, the older of the old men,

Spoke his mind and said in this wise:

"You have proved to be a jeget,

You have proved a fearless batur.

Only with your heart to lean on,

With your heart full of compassion

For the miserable and wretched

You have hither come to help us,

To have smashed your foes to pieces.

She, who caused the shah’s

resentment,

She, who caused the bloody conflict,

Who has set us free and happy,

Is the daughter of the great-shah,

For her heart she lost to you, lad,

And rebelled against her father,

Loud she raised her voice

against him.

Marry, jeget, mate this woman,

Who is sweet upon you, jeget,

Mate and stay with her for ever!”

Learning their proposition,

Learning what their cherished

dream was,

Ural set his mind on marriage,

And he married Katil’s daughter

And prolonged his stay a little

For the wedding celebration.

Thus a few days passed by flying,

And the wedding being over,

Ural went on with his journey.

Many waterways he passed through.

Once alighting from his lion

Ural stopped for recreation

At the foot of a rocky mountain

In the bottom of a hollow,

And he thought he heard

a snake kiss.

To his feet he jumped to look round,

And not far off saw a serpent,

At a shrub he lay in hiding,

Thick it was as Ural’s lion,

O’er one hundred footsteps longwise.

Ural saw him creeping outward

From the bush to hunt a roebuck.

Then began a battle between them,

But the buck could not withstand it,

Shortly gave way, fell down gasping,

And the serpent, mouth wide open,

Snapped fast at the roebuck’s backbone.

Straightway Ural came up running,

But the serpent swished his long tail

For to knock him off his balance,

Lashed his tail at Ural fiercely,

But the jeget fell upon him,

Squeezed his tail and gripped it tightly.

"Let the buck go!” Ural ordered,

But the serpent did not heed him

And the roe-buck’s backbone mutely

He continued tearing, crushing,

So to get at what he wanted,

So to swallow up his victim.

But his efforts were wasted,

For the antlers of the roe-buck

Were too ample to get inside,

Wide as was the serpent’s mouth,

And he could not crush the antlers,

Though he lashed his tail

to smash them,

And against the earth he

struck them,

But the antlers would not give way,

But the antlers would not

pass through,

And the serpent grew exhausted,

For his prey he could not swallow,

Neither could he belch it outward

Through his weakness

and exhaustion.

And he realized his failure,

Looked up and appealed to Ural:

"Come and save my life, o jeget,

May Death hie not come to take me.

I’m the Son of shah Kahkhahi,

And my name is Zarkum-jeget.

For my rescue I’ll reward you,

So you’ll benefit immensely.

Should you look for a companion,

At your beck and call I am now,

Should you ask for pearls and corals

As you like as much I’ll give you,

After reaching home, my wonning,

Where you’ll be my guest of honour.”

"You have put to death the roe-buck,

Who has lived so far unhurt yet,

By a living soul unharmed yet,

Who has known the blood-taste

never,

You have butchered him, betrayed

him,

Having put to Death – my worst foe.

Meanwhile tell me your life-story,

Share your mystery for nothing,

For I need no earthly treasures,

Nor the palace you reside in,

For I left my home, my home-land,

To set out on this journey,

That the innocent, the harmless,

Like this buck, might never face

Death,

My worst foe,” thus Ural answered.

"O my jeget, you shall hear now

My mysterious adventures.

Not a long way from my homeland

There’s a land of fowls of feather,

Which is ruled by great-shah

Samrau.

And this great-shah has a daughter,

That the sun has born unto him.

For her hand to them I sued once,

But she said I was a serpent

And disdainfully rejected

My proposal so did Samrau.

Eagerly I begged my father,

‘Marry me to Samrau’s daughter,

Should they not consent to marriage

Sweep their country by a fire-storm.’

And my father said, ‘Go hunting,

Clothe your body with your

snake-skin,

Hunt a deer-buck with antlers,

Antlers of a dozen branches,

If you hunt him down and swallow,

You’ll assume then any aspect,

Nothing daunted, fearing nothing,

You shall modify your snake-self

To the handsomest of mankind,

To the land of fowls of feather

Fare to pick out to your liking

Anyone of Samrau’s daughters.’

So I took my father’s counsel,

Drove and hunted down a roe-buck,

All but swallowed him with antlers,

But my strenuous effort failed me,

As the antlers never fractured,

In my gorge the antlers stuck fast.

My desire’s never come true.

Take a mercy on me, jeget,

Help me, jeget, do a good deed!

In my father’s habitation

You can take what you desire,

Anything your eye is pleasing.

Covet not, though, earthly treasures,

May they not allure, engross you,

Should the fairest maid be offered,

Or a houseful of treasures,

Be not lured with this, jeget,

May it not distract, mislead you,

As my father piles his treasures

For your choice, do not be tempted.

Wait until he says in this wise:

‘That a man may be disdainful

Of my corals, pearls and diamonds,

That a man may not be gainful,

May not gain a fair maiden,

Never in my life I’ve heard it,

Neither have I ever seen it,

Ranging, roaming the world over.

As I’ve no reward to fit you,

Let me now myself inquire:

Jeget, lay bare your desire

To repay you for your service.’

Thus my father will be speaking.

And you’ll say what you are after,

As by me it has been prompted.

Tell him: ‘Strip your skin of azhdah,

In my mouth poke your fowl tongue.’

He may give a fright by spitting

On a rock to make it sizzle,

Make it bubble like boiling water.

If he spits upon a mountain,

It will fuse straight into water,

And this water from the highlands

Will come running to the lowlands,

Filling up a lake that glistens,

That from end to end is boundless.

Be not scared, fear nothing,

Ask again to put his tongue out,

Kiss him right upon his tongue-tip,

It will ease and mollify him.

‘What is the reward you ask for?’

To my father’s question answer:

‘Tis the custom in this country:

Good’s repaid by good, and, surely,

You, great-shah, must know

about this.

So your dearest you give me!’

This is what you’ll tell my father.

If it is a cane he offers

That is wrought in pearls immensely,

Don’t decline this cane of magic:

It will keep you safe in water,

Safe in fire it will keep you,

And it can devisualize you,

Make you vanish into thin air,

When a foe is close behind you,

Trailing, tracing you all over!’

During this harangue the serpent

Crushed at last the roe-buck’s

antlers,

Strained and swallowed up

the roe-buck,

Turning straight into a jeget.

In a twinkling, in an instant

Ural heard a swish and questioned

What it was but Zarkum-serpent

As of fright grew pale and silent,

Turning over in his snake mind

What he kept from telling Ural:

"So it’s to my father’s knowledge

That I have betrayed his secret.

If I let escape this batur,

Let him go upon his journey,

In a fit of wrath my father

Can as well have me beheaded.

Now I cannot swallow Ural,

I can loop my tail no longer

For the lack of strength within me.

If I kneel down to my father,

If I give him up this jeget,

He will punish me more gently

And will spare me my life then.”

Thus it was the snake was thinking,

Keeping back his thoughts from Ural

And beguiling him with cunning:

"’Tis my father looking for me.

Come on, jeget, we shall give you

At our lodge a hearty welcome,

There and then claim of my father

The reward whereof I told you,”

Zarkum talked thus Ural-batur

Into going to his palace.

"In the kingdom of the serpent

I will come to know his mystery.

Should the custom there have it

That repaying good is evil,

I’ll subject myself to test it.”

Thus the jeget was determined

To fulfil what he was up to.

"I will not be scared, daunted,

What my heart is worth I’ll clear up,

I will know if I can finish

In a lethal final combat

Death allegedly immortal.”

Thus the jeget found it fitting

To accept the invitation.

"Should I come through this, I’ll find

you,

Once I’m back here in this quarter,

Should I not be back do not wait,

Do not linger looking for me,

Roaming round in this country,

Go back home and give my love there,”

To his lion Ural said so,

Kissing him upon his forehead,

And with Zarkum soon departed.

***