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diff --git a/77051-h/77051-h.htm b/77051-h/77051-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c5c92c4 --- /dev/null +++ b/77051-h/77051-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3750 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The defender | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1 {text-align: right; clear: both;} + + h2 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} + +div.titlepage {text-align: right; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} +div.titlepage p {text-align: right; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} + +.xlarge {font-size: 150%;} +.large {font-size: 125%;} + +.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} + +@media print { .poetry {display: block;} } +.x-ebookmaker .poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} + +.gap {padding-left: 5em;} + +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77051 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + +<p class="right">BOOKS BY<br> +NICHOLAS KALASHNIKOFF</p> + +<p class="right">The Defender<br> +Toyon: A Dog of the North and His People<br> +Jumper: The Life of a Siberian Horse<br> +They That Take the Sword</p> +</div></div></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" alt="Turgen, Marfa, Tim and Aksa"></div> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="title page"></div> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="titlepage"> +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<h1>THE DEFENDER</h1> + +<p><span class="xlarge">by Nicholas Kalashnikoff</span></p> + +<p><span class="large">illustrated by<br> + Claire and George Louden, jr.</span></p> + + <p><span class="large">New York <span class="gap"> 1951</span></span><br> +<span class="large">CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS</span></p> +</div></div></div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center">COPYRIGHT, 1951, BY<br> + NICHOLAS KALASHNIKOFF<br> + <br> + PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA<br> + <br> + ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS BOOK<br> + MAY BE REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT<br> + THE PERMISSION OF CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS</p> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_colophon.jpg" alt="publisher's logo"></div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<p class="right"><span class="large">TO<br> + MY DAUGHTER</span></p> +</div></div></div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[vii]</span> +<h2 class="nobreak">AUTHOR’S FOREWORD</h2> +</div> + +<p><i>“Everywhere there is life, and everywhere there are +warm human hearts.” These words, spoken by a school-teacher, +I remember from many years ago when I was a +boy in Siberia. The teacher, Ivan Pavin, was a man who +took joy in his work and passed joy on to his pupils. +The world was a more wonderful place for discovering +it with him. Best of all, he delighted to tell us about +people—all kinds of people—but especially those of +northern Siberia who lived in never-ending conflict +with a harsh land.</i></p> + +<p><i>When I grew up and left the village, I spent several +years in the Far North, where I had many occasions to +test the truth of this saying. Yes—I found warm hearts +in plenty, but none warmer than that of Tim, who was +of the Yakut tribe. Tim’s full name was Timofey. He +was greatly respected by people among whom he lived, +not only because he was honest and brave but because +he had powerful fists to match his courage. When words +failed to convince, his fists often could. One thing about +him interested me in particular. He was a self-appointed +champion of the</i> chubuku, <i>or wild mountain rams, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[viii]</span>took every opportunity to plead with hunters to spare +these rare animals who were fast disappearing from the +region.</i></p> + +<p><i>“Why?” I asked him one day, upon hearing him +threaten to punish a hunter who dared kill a ram in that +neighborhood. “Why do you put yourself out to befriend +these creatures? Are they so precious to you?”</i></p> + +<p><i>“Why?” he repeated my question. “That is simple. +My step-father, Turgen, who was a Lamut, loved the +mountain rams, and I made him a promise to protect +them after he was gone. He is dead now—a fine man, +as anyone will tell you. Perhaps you would like to hear +about him.”</i></p> + +<p><i>I assured him that I would....</i></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span> + + <h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 1</h2> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> +</div> + +<p>THIS is the story of the Lamut, Turgen, who lived +alone high in the hills of northeastern Siberia and had +for friends a herd of mountain rams.</p> + +<p>Turgen, whose name means “fleet-of-foot” in the Lamut +tongue, was a lonely man. It had not always been so. +When he was younger he had had a wife and a son +whom he loved. But both had died of an illness that +burned like fire, and rested now in a single grave under +the larch tree outside his door. He had also had the +liking and trust of the Yakuts who were his neighbors +in the valley below. Among them he was famed for his +knowledge of medicine. Knowing him for a kindly, +generous man, they came to him for healing grasses, and +were never refused. He, in turn, visited them and sat +by their <i>komeleks</i>, or fire-places, to exchange the latest +news.</p> + +<p>All this was in the past. Turgen no longer received +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span>callers or went into the valley, except to take fish to the +widow Marfa and receive milk for his own use. Marfa +and her two children, a son Tim and a daughter Aksa, +were Turgen’s only friends. For the most part he stayed +close to his <i>yurta</i>, a simple hut perched between two +cliffs above a mountain stream. On sunny days, when he +was not hunting or fishing, he loved to sit on a rough +bench under a great larch tree and smoke his pipe while +watching the activity in the valley below. The mountains +were full of mystery and peace. Because of them +he could think of the past without regret.</p> + +<p>You wonder why the people of the valley shunned +Turgen. The reason, you will say, was no reason at all. +Word had spread among them that he was friendly +with the wild rams who lived in the mountains. “Who +ever heard of friendship between a man and mountain +rams?” the Yakuts asked. It was impossible. And if it +was impossible, then Turgen was a sorcerer—a partner +of the devil.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 2</h2> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> +</div> + +<p>GOSSIP, starting like a small fire, got bigger and +bigger. One occasion especially helped this evil rumor. +On a holiday, years before, the people of the valley had +gathered to eat and drink and dance. As always, the +shamanist was present—a man believed to have power +to communicate with the good and evil spirits who were +part of an ancient faith. And as always he ate and drank +with the gayest of the company.</p> + +<p>The shamanist had long been jealous of Turgen +because of his influence over the Yakuts. For one thing, +Turgen was a sober man and kept his wits at all times, +which the shamanist did not do. As the shamanist was +dependent upon voluntary contributions for his living, +he could not tolerate the thought of yielding any authority +to another.</p> + +<p>On this day the party went on hour after hour, until +the shamanist from an excess of food, drink, and excitement +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span>fell down unconscious. To the superstitious +Yakuts, who revered him greatly, he was in a trance +and they waited eagerly to hear what he would report +about his conversation with the spirits when he awoke.</p> + +<p>A woman named Stepa went to him and wailed:</p> + +<p>“Arise, O Shamanist, and open our eyes, ignorant +people that we are. Tell us our future and what we have +to fear.”</p> + +<p>In a short while the shamanist rose, looked about him +with wild eyes, seized his tambourine and struck it +several times.</p> + +<p>“I saw,” he muttered, “I saw a dark cloud swim across +the sky to Turgen’s yurta. I looked. I looked, and in it +was the figure of a devil. A real devil, with horns and a +tail like a cow’s. I spoke, putting a spell upon him, and +he changed into a wild ram. I made the spell stronger, +and he vanished in the exact spot where Turgen lives. +O my friends! Beware of the devil in the ram’s hide!”</p> + +<p>With that, the shamanist fell to the ground again +exhausted.</p> + +<p>Amazed, the Yakuts said to one another, “He has +seen the devil! Let us be thankful that the devil passed +us by and went instead after the soul of Turgen.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_005.jpg" alt="The shamanist rose, seized his tambourine and struck it several times"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span>But here the woman Stepa, who wanted to be in the +shamanist’s good graces, interrupted. “Beware the +devil!” she screamed. “He can come to you too. You say +that Turgen is a Christian—but has anyone seen him +pray when the priest visited us? No. Believe me, the +devil is looking to have such people for a friend. +Beware of Turgen! Avoid him!”</p> + +<p>The Yakuts were more impressed by the shamanist’s +vision than by Stepa’s words. Still they listened and +remembered. When, not long afterwards, the shamanist +had another vision in which Turgen was associating +with the devil, the simple started to believe. They did +not condemn Turgen, nor would they harm him. “If he +has bound himself to the devil,” they said, “that is his +affair. We’ll just stay away from him.”</p> + +<p>They did so, and time passed. People might even +have forgotten the story of Turgen’s sorcery had not a +simple, foolish man named Nikita come running to the +village one day to report in great excitement that he +had seen Turgen sitting on the bench beneath his larch +tree while a mountain ram strolled nearby.</p> + +<p>“With my own eyes I saw it,” he declared. “A wild +ram in company with a man.”</p> + +<p>Everyone knew Nikita for a careless talker who +embroidered truth with a lively imagination, but the +Yakuts were a superstitious people and like many others +were easily convinced by loud shouting. “Think of it,” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span>they said, shaking their heads dolefully, “a wild ram has +become tame. Such a thing has never been heard of +before. This really smells of the devil’s work.”</p> + +<p>For these men had hunted the mountain rams all their +lives and they knew that no wild creature in the world +was so fearful of human beings. Hunting them was +hazardous sport because the rams lived in the most +remote crags. Many a hunter had fallen and been crippled +for life trying to search them out. There was a +saying that anyone who killed a ram was certain to meet +misfortune, but this was one of those popular beliefs not +to be examined too carefully for truth.</p> + +<p>Of course, the Yakuts might have gone to Turgen +and questioned him, but they didn’t. “Is it reasonable +to ask a sorcerer why he takes the devil for friend?” +they asked. “Better stay out of harm’s way lest the evil +spirits reach out and take the inquisitive ones also into +their net.”</p> + +<p>So it was that the people of the valley no longer +visited Turgen, or he them.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 3</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> +</div> + +<p>“WORDS that speak evil, though they have no +teeth, can tear the heart,” was an old proverb. It hurt +Turgen that the Yakuts turned from him, avoided his +questions and all contact with him. It was as if a dead +wall of ill-will had suddenly risen between him and +the people of the valley. Because he was ignorant of +any wrong on his part, he tried not to think too much +and went about his own affairs. But solitude is not easy +to endure, for the reason that thoughts cannot be +trapped. They keep buzzing round and round in the +head, like angry autumn flies, giving one no rest.</p> + +<p>Turgen thought of himself as independent, healthy +and strong and in need of no one’s assistance. Still it +was difficult to be deprived of human talk and human +association.</p> + +<p>Fortunately for him, there lived in the valley a widow +named Marfa with her two children—a boy Tim and a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>girl Aksa—at whose komelek he was welcome to sit +whenever it pleased him. There he would smoke his +pipe and entertain the children with some story, and +on leaving hear the warm and comforting words: +“Come again Turgen, and soon.”</p> + +<p>Marfa owned a good cow which furnished milk sufficient +for her own needs and for her friend. Turgen +loved hot tea with milk, to him a real treat.</p> + +<p>Marfa’s yurta stood near a lake which was surrounded +by a forest, far from other dwellings. The Yakuts seldom +visited her. Knowing that she was poor, they +feared she might ask something of them, and because +of the children they might be moved to rash promises. +Conscience has a way of making itself felt, like a thorn +in the body, so they reasoned that it would be safer to +stay away and avoid temptation.</p> + +<p>Marfa would have considered herself poor indeed +had she not had a solid yurta and her fine cow. But one +cannot live on milk alone. Necessity forced her to leave +the children by day and work for some wealthy Yakuts. +Her heart was never at ease with the children alone at +home, but she had no choice.</p> + +<p>Hers was not an easy life. In the summer she caught +fish by nets from the lake, mowed the field grass to feed +the cow in winter, made clothes for the children, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>saw to it that there was firewood stored away for the +cold weather. Trees were abundant, but it was beyond +her strength to chop them down, and she had no horse +with which to drag the logs out of the woods. So, in +return for housework, her Yakut employer chopped and +delivered wood for her. In spite of work and worry, she +did not complain. She asked nothing of God, except +good health for herself, her children, and her cow. God +must have seen and been pleased, for all of them were +blessed with the best of health.</p> + +<p>The cow lived in a warm shed separated from the +yurta by a thin partition which in summer opened like a +window to admit her head. There she would stand +chewing her cud and regarding everybody with her kind +eyes. No wonder that she was considered a welcome +member of the family. The children carried on long +conversations with her, not in the least frightened by +her great size and magnificent horns. They knew her +to be good-natured and fully believed that she understood +everything they said. Maybe she did. It is certain +that she knew her name, Whitey, for she answered to +it promptly when called. In the grazing season the children +were charged to look after her lest she stray too +far, but Marfa sometimes wondered whether it was not +Whitey who guarded the children. In many ways her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>cow sense prompted her that her help was necessary if +Tim and Aksa were to grow up well and strong, and +she gave it gladly.</p> + +<p>These were Turgen’s friends in the valley, a kindly +family but poor.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 4</h2> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>A PERSON who is alone spends a great deal of time +in thought. It was so with Turgen. And though his +thoughts repeated themselves day after day, still he +found pleasure in them. True, they got mixed up at +times, so that he found it difficult to separate present +from past: all appeared part of one precious experience, +without beginning or end. But whichever way his +thoughts turned—there were Marfa and the children.</p> + +<p>They had become his friends shortly after the death +of Marfa’s husband. Turgen had known the couple for +years, but acquaintance is not the same as friendship.</p> + +<p>He remembered Marfa when she was a frightened +girl working in the homes of wealthy Yakuts. At that +time he had no occasion to speak to her, and besides +she was very shy. Then when she was past her first +youth she married a Yakut in the neighborhood who +needed a good worker to look after his three cows. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>Marfa’s life was changed by marriage but it was not +improved. Her husband was a sickly man unable to do +a full day’s work, and when the children came her cares +increased. The death of the husband soon after the +birth of their second child left Marfa with the burden +of the household upon her. Of the three cows, two had +to be sold. Hardships and the years put wrinkles in her +face and she grew old before her time. However, her +body was fortunately still strong and she accepted what +God sent.</p> + +<p>This part of her life Turgen knew only from hearsay. +It was later that he met her as a friend, and he loved to +recall the incident.</p> + +<p>One winter, returning from a hunt on skis, he was +passing her yurta when he noticed that neither sparks +nor smoke came from the chimney. He stopped at once, +thinking in fright, “A dead chimney. What has happened? +I must investigate.”</p> + +<p>To people of the North a chimney without life in the +cold of winter is a sign of disaster.</p> + +<p>Turgen ran towards the yurta. While still some distance +away he could hear the anxious mooing of the +cow and a child weeping. He opened the door cautiously. +The yurta was dark and cold.</p> + +<p>“Who is it? Come in and help me light a fire,” a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>childish voice called. Turgen struck a match and saw +a small boy, his face and hands black with soot, rocking +a cradle in which a baby sat crying as if the world were +lost. With his free hand he tried to stir the fire in the +komelek into life while he blew on its dead embers.</p> + +<p>“Let me,” Turgen said, and added, “Don’t be afraid +of me. But I can see that you are a big boy and not easily +frightened.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” the boy answered soberly. “Mama says that I +am already five and Aksa is two winters old. She is little +and an awful cry-baby. My name is Tim. What is +yours?”</p> + +<p>“My name is Turgen. I like you, Tim.”</p> + +<p>“I like you, too.”</p> + +<p>Then, examining Turgen by the light of the new +dancing fire, he said, “Why should I be afraid of you? +You built the fire, so you must be kind.”</p> + +<p>“Where is your mother?” Turgen asked.</p> + +<p>“She went to work and I was to keep up the fire. But +I slept and the fire died,” the boy admitted guiltily.</p> + +<p>The yurta was now warm and cheerful. Both the cow +and the baby had stopped their crying. The little girl +could not take her bright, inquisitive eyes away from +the strange man.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_015.jpg" alt="Aksa was sitting on Turgen's knees"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>While taking off his kuklianka Turgen questioned +the boy. “Is the cow hungry that she was calling so? +And what about your sister?”</p> + +<p>Tim shrugged his shoulders. “Our cow always moos +like that when there is no fire in the komelek. She is +afraid for us. And Aksa must be hungry. Mama told me +to give her milk with hot water to drink, but how could +I heat the water when there was no fire?”</p> + +<p>“Of course,” Turgen agreed. “That wasn’t your fault. +I’ll do it right away.”</p> + +<p>Having had her warm milk, Aksa was soon sitting on +Turgen’s knees looking with drowsy and contented eyes +into the leaping fire. The visitor pleased her as well as +Tim.</p> + +<p>Happy to have their trust, Turgen considered what +other help he could give them. “Have you any flour, +meat and fish?” he asked the boy.</p> + +<p>Tim shook his head, “Mama said that there is a +little barley meal, but no meat or fish. She will ask the +neighbors for some. Perhaps you are hungry. I will give +you half of my mill-cake. Do you want it?”</p> + +<p>“No, thank you, Tim. I am not hungry. Besides, there +is smoked uikola in my bag. Do you like it?”</p> + +<p>“Very much. It is fat. Aksa also loves it, and Mama +too. Give some to them.”</p> + +<p>“I shall give you all that I have and later I’ll bring +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>you more.”</p> + +<p>Turgen was enjoying his conversation with the bright +little boy. “Tell me, who taught you how to keep the +fire going in the komelek?”</p> + +<p>“Mama,” said Tim promptly. “She says that if you +blow on the hot coals they will flare up. But no matter +how hard I blew, nothing happened. We have matches +but Mama hides them from me. She is afraid I might +set the yurta on fire.”</p> + +<p>Aksa was ready to sleep now, so Turgen wrapped a +blanket around her and put her in the basket, which +served as a crib. Then he examined the yurta.</p> + +<p>Poverty stared at him from every corner. Nowhere +could he see a sign of food. “I will come tomorrow and +bring more fish,” he promised himself, “for I have +plenty of everything.”</p> + +<p>“When do you expect your mother?” he asked Tim.</p> + +<p>“Soon. She never lets us stay alone in the dark, and +it is almost evening. Maybe she got a lot of fish and it is +heavy for her to carry,” he suggested.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps. But sit up until she comes, and keep the +fire going. In weather like this it is easy to freeze without +a fire.” He picked up his kuklianka. “Now I must +be going. Tell your mother that the Lamut Turgen was +here. She knows me.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>The boy looked at Turgen with eyes which begged +him to stay. “I like to watch the fire ... when I am not +alone. You know how to do everything, don’t you? +When I grow up I will know everything too, just like +you. Please don’t go for a while.”</p> + +<p>“I must,” Turgen told him. “I live in the mountains +and want to be home before it gets too dark. It is good +that you are not the cowardly sort.”</p> + +<p>“Why must you get home before dark?” Tim wanted +to know. “Are you afraid of wolves? I hear they attack +people in winter. But you have a gun. What kind is it? +A good one?”</p> + +<p>Turgen threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, what +a talker! You know about wolves and even guns. Someday +you’ll surely be a hunter. And now, good-by. Mind +you don’t fall asleep. I’ll be back soon.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 5</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>NIGHT comes quickly in the north, so Turgen +walked briskly. His heart was troubled as he thought of +the children. Only extreme want could have forced +Marfa to leave them alone. For the closest neighbor, he +knew, lived not less than half a mile away.</p> + +<p>“Poor woman! Here I have everything and she +nothing. It is necessary to help her. But how?”</p> + +<p>Arriving home, he was moved by a sudden impulse +to fill a sack full of frozen fish and partridges. Then, +grabbing up some salt and tea, he started back to +Marfa’s. So high were his spirits, he did not feel the +weight of his load. As his skis carried him swiftly down +hill, he could see from a distance bright sparks flying +from the yurta’s chimney.</p> + +<p>“The boy is not sparing with the wood. That is good.” +Then it occurred to him: “But maybe Marfa is home +by now.” The thought abashed him, for he reasoned: +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>“Suppose she refuses my gift and says ‘I am not a pauper +that I should accept charity’?” And it was possible that +she shared the distrust of the valley people toward him.</p> + +<p>At the door he stood for some time hesitating. Finally +he decided: “Be what may. I will say that I have no +money, but I wish to buy milk from her and will pay +for it with these foodstuffs.” Nevertheless, he set +the sack outside the door before he knocked timidly.</p> + +<p>Marfa’s voice said, “Who’s there? Come in.”</p> + +<p>As he stepped over the threshold the boy cried out in +joy: “It is he, Mama. The kind man who built the fire +and gave us the uikola. I told you he would return.”</p> + +<p>Marfa looked at Turgen, saw that he was embarrassed, +and held out her hand in greeting. “Don’t mind +Tim. Take off your kuklianka and come sit by the fire. +Thank you for what you did for the children. I was +working and was delayed. It always worries me to leave +them alone, but what can I do?”</p> + +<p>Moving quickly, she placed a tea kettle on the fire, +brought out a small table and said: “Move closer to the +fire and the light. Have some hot tea with mill-cakes +and the uikola you gave us. You are welcome to all there +is. Tomorrow they have promised to pay me in fish. My +last year’s catch was very poor and I have nothing left, +although it is only January.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>Marfa spoke simply, but her voice was charged with +anxiety.</p> + +<p>Squatting before the fire, Turgen took out his pipe +and with his bare fingers picked up a burning ember +with which to light it. He inhaled deeply, then let his +breath go. From behind the screen of smoke he looked +at Marfa attentively.</p> + +<p>Now it came to him for the first time that he really +did not know her at all. She was a thin woman of +medium height, quick and determined in her movements. +Her face had the prominent cheek bones and +flattened nose of the Yakut. While she was not pretty, +she was pleasing to look at with her dark, thick hair and +hazel eyes full of kindness. “There is beauty of soul in her +eyes,” thought Turgen, “but sorrow too.” He imagined +he could read in them the truth she tried to hide: “If +tomorrow I don’t get anything, I really don’t know what +will become of us. You can see for yourself how poorly +we live.”</p> + +<p>At a loss how to console her, and embarrassed by his +own distress, Turgen turned to Tim as a safe subject +of conversation. “You know, you have a fine son, Marfa. +He was generous enough to offer me half of his mill-cake. +He should be a great help to you.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” Marfa answered hesitantly, “but it will take +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>time. However, the young do grow up fast. If only God +will give me the strength to raise them and put them on +their feet.” Then she added more cheerfully, “Do sit +down. We’ll have some tea. Everything is ready.”</p> + +<p>Feeling bolder and more at ease now, Turgen said, +“Thank you, I will. Only permit me to give you a present. +It is right here outside the door.”</p> + +<p>Without waiting for her reply, he got the sack of provisions +and brought it into the yurta.</p> + +<p>“Mama, Mama,” Tim cried, “now you don’t have to +go to work. Look at all the food he brought us!”</p> + +<p>Marfa leaned against the wall and her eyes filled +with tears. Turgen was more embarrassed than ever. +But before he could think what to say or what to do, +Marfa recovered her composure and thanked him +warmly. “My husband used to tell me that the Yakuts +avoided you because you lived in the mountains and +... were friendly with wild rams. He also said that +you were kind and that the people stupidly spread +false tales about you. Now I can see this for myself. Sit +down. Do. Talk to Tim while I go to prepare a real +dinner.”</p> + +<p>That was an unforgettable evening for Turgen. +Though few words were exchanged, he felt that much +had been communicated because the hours held so +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>much of friendship and hospitality. Tim was long asleep +by the time he was ready to leave.</p> + +<p>It had not been difficult to persuade Marfa to supply +him with milk in return for provisions. “To tell you the +truth,” he said, “I have so much food that it will take +care of all of us. And I need your milk. I used to get +milk from the valley people, but now as you know they +do not approve of me. I am sorry about this, and I should +be more than sorry if they caused you any trouble because +of your kindness to me.”</p> + +<p>Marfa’s voice was firm as she answered him: “You +are my friend, Turgen. You are saving my children and +me from want and perhaps starvation. Who can forbid +me to choose my own friends? Do not fear. I will look +out for myself. Before I was timid, but now I am a +mother and in my home I am mistress.”</p> + +<p>So Turgen’s friendship with Marfa and her family +began. In the next fours years, until Tim was nine and +Aksa six, it grew and flourished. “Surely God Himself +directed my footsteps to their yurta,” Turgen would +often think.</p> + +<p>All would have been well, except that the evil let +loose in the valley was spreading and the feeling of the +people against him grew and grew.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 6</h2> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>FROM Marfa, Turgen learned what his neighbors +thought of him and said of him. Although he cared, he +was a proud man and did not think it necessary to +justify his actions to anyone. Furthermore, he was discovering +that solitude can be a very pleasant thing. Now +that visitors no longer came with their trifling requests, +he had time to enjoy his small kingdom. Here he had +lived all his life and he loved it—the mountains with +their strange enchantment, the brook, the lake, the forest, +the simple yurta. And always there was with him +the memory of the wife and son his love and knowledge +had not been able to save though he tried every art at +his command. The flowers he had planted on their grave +bloomed each summer and beckoned him on warm days +to sit there on his bench with his pipe for company.</p> + +<p>Turgen was one of those lean, muscular men to whom +the years are kind. His coppery skin, so free of hair, was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>finely wrinkled under the narrow, kindly eyes, deepset +beneath bushy brows. His gray hair grew in untidy rows +like a neglected field. But his hands kept their firmness, +his eyes their sharpness, his feet the spring of youth. +How old was he? Impossible to say, for he had stopped +reckoning the years when he reached fifty. “Why count +the winters?” he asked himself. “You live through +them, and thank God. For whom is it necessary to +know?”</p> + +<p>In short, Turgen looked like what he was—a kindly +man, built to endure the life of a hunter and fisherman. +In both these pursuits he was very skillful. And he was +not poor, though many considered him so because he +owned neither horses nor cows. No one is really poor +who can have food for the taking, and Turgen had +besides valuable pelts which were ready exchange for +cartridges, yarn for nets, barley meal, salt, and other +provisions supplied by a merchant who called once a +month. Kamov was the merchant’s name. His visits gave +Turgen much pleasure, for he brought news of the +world and was always ready for a friendly chat.</p> + +<p>What he got from the merchant Turgen shared with +Marfa and her children. It was a holiday for him just +to sit in her yurta sipping tea and saying nothing. To +Marfa he had little to talk about, but with the children +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>he talked freely of many things—mostly of the life +around them, and of his boyhood. When the children, +full of curiosity, wanted to know more and more, and +questioned him about other marvels he knew, he told +them tales to make their eyes grow big—tales of the +great warrior Tugan and his son Chaal, a famous athlete; +stories of the animals and fish who inhabited the +tundra; legends explaining the sun and moon and stars. +The sun, it seemed, was servant to the Great Spirit, a +powerful warrior clothed in armor of precious stones +and wearing a crown of fire. The moon was his sister +and one of her duties was to guard the stars, those eyes +of countless angels, to make sure they did not go out and +plunge the world into darkness.</p> + +<p>Yes, Turgen knew everything.</p> + +<p>These evenings were rare. In winter he did not call +for his milk oftener than twice a month but spent the +long evenings weaving his nets or smoking his pipe +while he stared into the fire and reflected on the odd +turns that life takes, on the joys that he knew in the +peace of his mountains. Or if the solitude became a +burden, he would take down from a shelf a reed he had +carved long ago from a willow tree. And placing it to +his lips he would bring forth a sweet, sad melody that +would express thoughts impossible to put in words.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>After that he would lie down to sleep like a marmot, +covered snugly under two blankets made of the skins of +rabbits and wolves. If he was fortunate, he would be +carried off in dreams to another and happier life. What +he liked best was to dream of his wife and son, to re-live +the fine times they had together. But to his regret nice +dreams were few, the winters long and stern.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 7</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>THE mountain rams had become a part of Turgen’s +life almost by accident. It all began so long ago that he +never gave thought to it until one day Marfa out of +curiosity asked him a question which brought to mind +an almost forgotten incident.</p> + +<p>“Why do you call them rams?” she wanted to know. +“Are not they the same as sheep?”</p> + +<p>“Yes and no,” Turgen answered. “In the family of +domestic sheep only the males have horns. But all wild +rams have horns. Of course, those of the female rams +are smaller.”</p> + +<p>Marfa nodded. “But is it not strange that only recently +you came to love the rams? Surely you knew them +before.”</p> + +<p>“Of course I knew them. When I was young I used to +hunt them.”</p> + +<p>“You killed them?” Aksa asked in a shocked voice.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>“I did,” Turgen admitted. “It was a sin. Unfortunately, +one has to live many years to understand what is +good and what evil. Living alone is a help to thinking, +and often something will happen to open a man’s eyes.”</p> + +<p>He paused, got up and put wood on the fire, sat down +again and puffed on his pipe.</p> + +<p>“Let me tell you what happened to me twenty or more +years ago. It was winter. November. Government officials +called to order me to act as guide to an important +foreigner, a hunter. The man was impressive—tall and +stern and clean-shaven. I couldn’t understand a word +he said but an interpreter explained that he had come +to hunt our mountain rams. I wasn’t very anxious to go +with him, but what could I do? The authorities insisted.</p> + +<p>“Well, I led them up the mountain. A hunt—pah! +It was a picnic. There were about twenty people in the +party, including Russian and Yakut officials. There was +so much to eat and drink that soon all were acting as if +they were insane—shooting at everything and anything +until the hills echoed with their noise. One thing I must +admit though. They had excellent guns.”</p> + +<p>Tim ventured an observation. “With such guns they +undoubtedly killed many animals.”</p> + +<p>Turgen’s smile was contemptuous. “No. How could +they? They couldn’t even aim straight. In two weeks +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>they killed two wolves, ten rabbits, and one bear they +roused out of his lair. As for rams, I confess that I was +crafty and led them places where rams were usually not +to be found. Yet a family of five did appear suddenly +out of nowhere. O, Lord, what firing there was! They +all fired at once, seized by greed. And somehow they +managed to kill the largest one, who was probably old +and the last in line. At least, that’s the only way I can +explain their luck. The poor fellow fell, and while the +other rams vanished so quickly that not even the dogs +could catch up with them, the hunters threw themselves +upon him. What a disgusting spectacle it was. And for +what? So that the important visitor could have a pelt +and some horns. The horns were truly fine. ‘He will brag +about them for the rest of his life,’ the interpreter said.</p> + +<p>“It was this brutal murder,” Turgen went on, “that +awoke in me pity for the rams. I was more sly after that +and led the party only to places when rams would never +go. When the officials grew angry, complaining that I +was a poor guide and that because of me they were disgraced +before the foreigner, I answered: ‘What can I +do? Your shooting has frightened the animals away +and they have run for perhaps a hundred miles.’ They +complained and threatened some more. Then they held +a council to decide where they could find another guide. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>But the Yakuts told them that Turgen was the best in +the whole region. The affair might have ended differently, +but it got cold suddenly, there was a blizzard, +and the important visitor left post haste for his own +country. Of course, I rejoiced that the rams were now +left in peace. But for several winters I did not see them. +They had gone from here. In time, as you know, they +returned. I saw them rarely. They came and vanished. +Still I was happy to have them living again in my mountains.” +As they listened intently, Marfa and the children +shared Turgen’s fears and happiness. Now they understood +his affection for the rams.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 8</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>BY stepping on to a ledge outside his door, Turgen +on a clear day had a wonderful view of the valley below +and the mountains above him. When he tired of watching +the tiny figures of men and women scurrying about +at the foot of his hill, he had only to turn his eyes +upward to see a different and fascinating sight. For +there, dodging among the crags, were specks which he +knew to be wild rams.</p> + +<p>“How do they live?” he asked himself one evening. +The hills were barren except for sparse tufts of moss, an +occasional thin clump of grass, and now and then a +tough, hardy shrub that could not contain much nourishment.</p> + +<p>His curiosity and pity aroused, Turgen watched the +rams intently all that season and the next. He could +make out nine individuals of what he assumed to be a +family—or, as he called it, a tribe. In summer one lamb—or +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>it might be two—were added to the number, but +they disappeared with cold weather.</p> + +<p>Then Turgen began to worry. For with the cold +weather came snow to cover the moss and grass and dry +up the meagre shrubs. Even at a distance he could sense +the animals’ despair as they searched avidly beneath the +snow for any poor morsel to chew upon. Their grey-brown +wool hung loosely on them now, and they moved +indifferently, without spirit. Unless there was a hint of +danger. Then they would lift their heads proudly and +take themselves into the distance with incredible lightness +and speed.</p> + +<p>“Poor things.” Turgen spoke his thoughts aloud. “To +think that I used to hunt you to kill you! What harm are +you to anyone? You who ask only for freedom.”</p> + +<p>But pity could not help them. He must find a way to +give them practical aid. He considered one thing, then +another. At last he fixed upon a plan.</p> + +<p>First he built a light sleigh which he loaded with hay. +Then, putting on skis, he pulled the sleigh to the ridge +of the next mountain, dumped the hay, and returned +home. Not a ram was in sight, but he could feel their +inquisitive and fearful eyes upon him from behind the +boulders farther up the hill.</p> + +<p>From his own door he watched them approach the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>hay warily, circle it and trample it, and stoop to nibble +at it. They seemed to fear a trap. But when he went back +to the spot the hay was gone. After that he took frequent +offerings of food to them, and gradually the rams came +to accept his gifts without hesitation. Although they +never approached him when he visited the feeding +ground, he caught glimpses of them in hiding, awaiting +his coming. In order to gain their greater confidence, he +made it a point never to carry a gun. He even gave up +his habit of carrying an iron-tipped stick which helped +him in climbing. For he knew that all animals fear the +rod which gives forth noise and fire.</p> + +<p>It was not easy to conquer the fear of these wild +creatures. It needed patience as well as understanding. +But Turgen had both. Season after season he gave them +care and attention, and was rewarded by knowing that +they accepted him and depended upon him even though +they did not fully trust him. A time came when they no +longer hid from him but stood watching from a safe +distance as if to determine what sort of being this was +from whom they received nothing but good. And he +had another satisfaction. The food he gave them worked +a miracle in their appearance. They were no longer the +sad, dishevelled animals of former days.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_035.jpg" alt="He built a light sleigh which he loaded with hay"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>His heart leaped for joy one day when he went to +the feeding ground and discovered the entire ram family +gathered in a group on a little mound near by.</p> + +<p>“Eh!” Turgen declared with pleasure. “You are truly +a good-looking band—strong and healthy. And you eat +now as if you enjoyed it.”</p> + +<p>The rams eyed him gravely, with an expression that +might have been gratitude on their long homely faces.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” they seemed to be saying. “Perhaps your pampered +cattle down below would not thrive on this fare, +but for savages like us it is nourishing. You see, we are +not looking to put on fat, merely to survive.”</p> + +<p>With these friends, who had become like his own +children, Turgen knew that he would never again be +lonely as before.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 9</h2> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>“A GOOD man greets each new day as if it were a +holiday.” Turgen thought of this proverb upon waking +every morning now, because it described exactly the +way he felt. By becoming the protector of these defenseless +animals, he had found a mission which used all the +warmth of his lonely heart. He only regretted that the +idea of feeding the rams had occurred to him so late. +“But why waste time in regret?” he reflected. “Better +rejoice that the idea came to me at last.”</p> + +<p>In order not to give the rams occasion for fright, it +was necessary to change certain of his habits. For one +thing, he did no hunting at all in the neighborhood of +his yurta and the rams’ feeding ground, but travelled +some distance before permitting himself to fire a shot. +He was gratified to discover before long that with the +coming of spring birds and small animals, especially +squirrels, flocked to his mountain side in great numbers. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>It was as if a rumor had spread that his place was their +assurance of safety. The next spring and the next it was +the same. Gay and charming visitors he had never +known before came to delight him with their presence, +and he felt himself being drawn into another world. +How wonderful to be looked upon as a friend rather +than as an enemy of these creatures!</p> + +<p>In three years the rams, too, showed growing confidence +in him. He fed them regularly, even when the +snow melted and the crevices of the rocky hills revealed +young grass and tender new shoots on the shrubs.</p> + +<p>One sunny day he had gone as usual to the Rams’ +Mountain and was standing on a ledge near the feeding +ground waiting for them to appear. Soon he saw three +coming cautiously toward him. Quickly he stepped out +of sight. By their watchful movements he judged that +they had been sent to reconnoitre, and he was more sure +of this a moment later when they bleated a piercing +“Ma-a! Ma-a!”</p> + +<p>He could not doubt that this was a signal to inform +hidden companions that all was well, for the entire ram +family now appeared, led by a huge powerful fellow +who held his head with its sharp spiralling horns +proudly. “What strength! What assurance!” Turgen +thought, enchanted. The long beard and tail indicated +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>that the leader ram was not young, but his legs were +slender and built to endure. He had a reddish-brown +coat flecked here and there with white. By his extraordinary +size and confident attitude he impressed his authority +on the herd.</p> + +<p>When the leader after a brief survey had satisfied +himself that there was no danger he spoke calmly to his +charges. “Ma-a!” he said. Whereupon all the rams fell +to eating.</p> + +<p>Turgen counted them: six females and three males—with +two lambs not more than three weeks old, which +he had not seen before. Unlike the lambs he had noticed +briefly in previous seasons, these were gay and frisky and +seemed prepared to enjoy a long life. Two lambs to six +females was not a large increase. Still they were promise +of new generations. Turgen was overjoyed. Surely the +smaller one must be a girl, the larger one a boy. He +watched them drink greedily of their mother’s milk, +then pick at some grass only to reject it disdainfully +and return to their mothers. Clearly they preferred milk +to the food of grown-ups.</p> + +<p>Turgen could not take his eyes from the rams, his +wild mountaineers. In his imagination he saw this little +family grown into a great herd.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 10</h2> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>JUST then the leader sounded a sharp warning +upon which the rams vanished. Turgen looked to see +what had frightened them, but could discover nothing +amiss. He listened, and heard a noise as of sifting sand +and gravel. Someone must be there. But who? Then his +attentive eyes caught sight of a bear stealthily creeping +toward the clearing. He was enormous.</p> + +<p>By nature a bear was clumsy and sluggish, no match +in speed for the light-footed rams, but he had his own +sure method of hunting. He would search out the path +by which the rams traveled to get food and water, and +there he would lie in wait for them behind one of the +cliffs. He would wait for hours, patiently. Providing the +wind was in his favor, his scent did not betray him and +the rams would come unsuspectingly within reach. Then +a pounce, a single blow of his enormous paw, and the +nearest ram would be killed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>Turgen knew all this, knew also that the bear before +him was an experienced hunter. Lacking a gun, he was +powerless to give the rams any help. He thought of +shouting, remembering that a bear is afraid of the +human voice, but this might frighten the rams even +more and decide them to seek another place of refuge. +What then was he to do?</p> + +<p>Rocks! He would throw rocks at the bear.</p> + +<p>Taking quick aim, he fired a stone which lit near the +bear’s feet. The animal stopped, turned his head to +sniff the air from all directions. When his eyes fixed +upon Turgen above him, he let out a roar of fright that +echoed from cliff to cliff and threw himself down the +hillside. The clatter was terrific as he rolled over brush +and outthrustings of rocks, crashing and bouncing and +setting in motion a series of small landslides.</p> + +<p>Attracted by the racket the old ram reappeared farther +up the mountain and stood watching his enemy’s progress +with an expression of contentment.</p> + +<p>Satisfied that the rams were safe, Turgen started home +conscious that the leader was following him with his +eyes. A dreadful thought assailed him: What if the rams +associated him with the bear? What if their old suspicion +of man were aroused and they left this region +for another?</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 11</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>THAT night Turgen could sleep little, but tossed +and turned in anxiety lest his charges desert him. For +they had become necessary to him, perhaps more necessary +than he to them. The next morning he rose early +and hurried to the feeding ground with a generous +supply of grass. Good or bad, he must know the truth.</p> + +<p>His fears were promptly quieted when he saw the +rams’ fresh tracks in the clearing. As usual, he deposited +the hay, then stood behind a rock to wait. But not for +long. First to come were the scouts, then the leader. Then +the family. In spite of their dirty-brown coats they were +to him a lovely sight in their strength and grace and daring. +The old leader was like a king arrayed in tatters, +fully three feet in height and nearly six feet from tip to +tip. The females, appropriately, were smaller, with +almost straight horns, and held themselves with a kind +of humility.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>But it was the lambs to whom Turgen’s heart went +out. “The darlings!” he whispered.</p> + +<p>Of course, the shy one who never ventured from her +mother’s side was a female, the gay prankish one a male. +If in his play he dared approach the cliff, the old leader +recalled him with a snort to his anxious parent.</p> + +<p>“Eh! They are splendid children.”</p> + +<p>The rams seemed at home and at ease wandering +about the clearing, and Turgen was reminded that it +took more than a single fright to make them forsake +their accustomed haunts. They were known to be stubbornly +faithful to the place which provided them with +food and shelter.</p> + +<p>Turgen was starting down the mountain to return +home when he noticed the leader ram circle the clearing +excitedly, then with amazing lightness spring to the top +of a rocky ledge where he had a good view of the mountain +side. Sharply he surveyed the region, and sharply +gave warning.</p> + +<p>The warning was taken up by the other males, and +promptly the females ranged themselves in a circle with +their rumps together and their heads pointing out. The +lambs, held within the circle, pushed against their +elders inquisitively in an effort to get out, where were +the other males.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>As a general, the leader was magnificent. From a +height of at least twenty-five feet he dropped easily to +the clearing and again made a full swing around its +center edge. On another signal from him the males took +posts along the cliff and the herd froze in position, front +legs braced, horns lowered, all facing the exposed slope.</p> + +<p>“An astonishing battle formation!” Turgen said to +himself in excitement and wonder. The rams were prepared +to fight off an enemy. But who was the enemy? +“Wolves?” Turgen wondered. He had heard of rams’ +exploits in battle, but never had he seen anything like +this.</p> + +<p>Intently he watched, and soon he saw three forest +wolves approaching the clearing, enormous beasts made +bold and dangerous by hunger through the winter. His +heart beat fast with terror for his herd. What he would +have given for a gun! Lacking that, he made sure that his +knife was ready to hand, even though he knew himself +to be a helpless onlooker should the wolves attack. “For +I’m not a bird and not a ram, to go from crag to crag,” +he thought.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_045.jpg" alt="The old ram's horns struck the wolf in the chest"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>The first wolf had reached the edge of the clearing +now. With his mouth open, revealing powerful tusks, +and the hair erect on his spine, he was terrifying to look +at. Turgen heard him growl, a low fierce rumble, and +waited for him to pounce, but instead he flung himself +full length on the ground while still keeping his burning +eyes on the rams. Was he perhaps selecting his prey? +Turgen did not know, but he saw how the female rams +drew together in a closer circle behind the leader. It +was quite clear by their staunch attitudes that the rams +had no intention of running away.</p> + +<p>What a battle it would be! But what chance had the +rams against those three beasts?</p> + +<p>The first wolf, tiring of inactivity and prompted by +greed, decided against waiting longer for his companions +and rose to his feet. Slowly he advanced. With +each cautious step Turgen expected him to plunge.</p> + +<p>Then an amazing thing happened. The old ram without +warning, lowered his head to the ground and sprang +at the advancing enemy. So exactly had he gauged the +distance that his horns struck the wolf in the chest with +an impact strong enough to raise him in the air and send +him hurtling over the cliff. His howls echoed around the +mountain as he fell and so distracted the other two +wolves that they turned from the clearing and raced +after their unlucky comrade.</p> + +<p>It seemed not more than a minute that it took to wage +and win the battle. Then the herd of rams broke formation +to lie down and rest. Except for the lambs who +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>were as full of play as ever.</p> + +<p>Turgen, making his way home on legs which did not +seem to belong to him, lived over again the old ram’s +victory. It was as if the triumph were his own.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 12</h2> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>AT home he could not get the incident out of his +mind. These wild mountaineers had become like his +own flesh and blood—what happened to them was his +experience also.</p> + +<p>It was midnight, but he could not sleep from excitement. +Reaching for his reed, he started to play—and +soon the yurta was filled with music that spoke of sadness +and at the same time of quiet rejoicing. The melodies +were new to him. They had seemingly sprung out +of the air in order to celebrate the afternoon’s wonderful +adventure.</p> + +<p>At last he lay down to rest. With all his heart he +desired this night to see a fine dream. What kind of a +dream he did not know, but he felt that he must communicate +the day’s fortune to the good spirit of the +yurta. For had not a good spirit come to drive out the +evil spirit when he made himself the protector of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>rams? Turgen believed that it had. For his faith in God—the +Great Spirit who ruled the world—did not exclude +the possibility that there were other spirits known +to his forefathers who acted as messengers for God and +Satan and had more time to concern themselves with the +affairs of a poor Lamut.</p> + +<p>His wish was granted him. In his sleep he saw a joyous +dream.</p> + +<p>His wife and son entered the yurta, looking just as +he remembered them. He wanted to welcome them, to +say a thousand things he had in his mind to tell them, but +no words came. He could only gaze at their dear faces in +silent astonishment.</p> + +<p>His wife came near, took him by the hand, smiled +and said: “Turgen, get up and come with us. The Great +Spirit is happy that you are taking care of the wild rams +and wants to thank you personally.”</p> + +<p>Turgen rose as he was directed and went with them. +But his wife and son seemed to float through the air +rather than walk and he had great difficulty keeping up. +Up hills, over vertical cliffs he followed after them, +gasping from exhaustion and fearful that they would +abandon him.</p> + +<p>Finally he called out in despair: “Help me. I cannot +keep up with you. If you do not help me, I shall never +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>see the Great Spirit.”</p> + +<p>Encouragingly his wife answered: “Yes, Turgen, you +are tired. But don’t be afraid. We will help you.”</p> + +<p>With that she took him by one hand, the son by the +other, and all three rose into the air. Higher and higher +they flew, to dizzy heights where it was hard to breathe, +and came at last to a mountain whose top was lost in the +clouds. When they had landed in a small field Turgen +looked around him amazed.</p> + +<p>“What an immense place!” he exclaimed. “If the +Great Spirit lives this far away it is no wonder that we +never see him.”</p> + +<p>The place was remarkable for more than its size. The +mountains familiar to Turgen were also high, but bleak +and bare. Here were fields with trees and flowers growing +in abundance and giving off odors that tickled the +nostrils. And in the midst of the wonders he saw lambs +browsing under the guardianship of wolves.</p> + +<p>“What is this?” he asked his wife. “How can such +young things be entrusted to killer-beasts?”</p> + +<p>Smilingly she said: “There are no killers here, Turgen. +Here everyone—birds, animals, people—live in +love and harmony.”</p> + +<p>“Wonderful!” Turgen exclaimed. “I should like to +live here myself for a while.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>“You will in due time,” the woman assured him. “But +come now—the Great Spirit is expecting you.”</p> + +<p>Turgen looked around, expecting to see a large yurta +in which the Great Spirit lived, but instead he saw only +a great larch tree and under it a bench very like his own. +An aged man dressed in white was sitting there, a man +who bore striking resemblance to his long-dead grandfather.</p> + +<p>“Who is this?” Turgen asked himself. “Is it possible +that he is the Great Spirit? I did not picture him so. This +man is lean and not very tall and there is nothing of +grandeur about him. No doubt he is a servant.”</p> + +<p>But meeting the old man’s eyes, which held a kind of +fire, he was seized with fear and reverence. Humbly he +fell on his knees and whispered: “Forgive me, Almighty! +I, a sinner, failed to recognize you. How could +I recognize you, since I have never seen you?”</p> + +<p>A gentle voice replied: “Rise, my son. Do not be +afraid. If you have not seen me, yet you heard me when +I said to you, ‘Turgen, go feed the starving rams. They +are my children too, just as you are.’ Your heart is open +to goodness. You have given me much joy. Now rise and +sit here beside me.”</p> + +<p>Eagerly, Turgen leaped to his feet—and woke up.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 13</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>FOR a moment he was grievously disappointed at +having lost his dream, but soon a great happiness overtook +him. Surely this was no ordinary dream, he told +himself. The Great Spirit in his mysterious wisdom had +chosen this way to make his favor known. Although +Turgen longed to rush down the hill and share the +night’s adventure with Marfa and her children, he +didn’t—because the dream, for a reason he was at a loss +to explain, seemed to belong to him alone.</p> + +<p>Did Marfa notice that something of extraordinary +importance had happened to him? If so, she gave no +sign, for it was not her habit to question. Nevertheless, +Turgen felt a sense of guilt that he should conceal anything +from his kind friends.</p> + +<p>The children especially might well have asked: +“Turgen, why don’t you tell us stories any more? Why +don’t you play the reed and sit by the komelek and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>smoke?”</p> + +<p>For he did none of these things, being so preoccupied +by his own thoughts and concerns. He went for his milk +as usual, gave abrupt greetings, asked absurd questions +which deserved no answers, and quickly departed.</p> + +<p>The truth was, he had to admit honestly, that the +family of rams had become dearer to him than anything +or anyone.</p> + +<p>At home there was more than enough work to keep +him busy, for it was important that he make good use +of what was left of the summer. Hay must be dried and +stored for the rams, wood chopped to last a long winter, +fish and game caught and packed away in a small cellar +not far from the yurta—a hole dug in the ground where +food stayed fresh summer and winter. He remembered +the old proverb:</p> + +<p>“What the summer gives, the winter will swallow.”</p> + +<p>As a result of his dream he suddenly gave most careful +attention to his housekeeping. Every day he swept +the floor, and he polished the kettles and pots until they +shone. He did this because, secretly, he cherished the +hope that his wife and son would visit him again. +Maybe—who knows?—the Great Spirit himself might +condescend to drop in.</p> + +<p>But always the rams came first. At least twice a week, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>in every kind of weather, he carried food to them. He +fed them even though the mountains were still green +with vegetation, because they were now more than ever +necessary to him. Besides, the succulent grass which he +gathered in the valley gave variety to their diet and they +loved it. While the rams never came close to him but +maintained a respectful distance, they showed no nervousness +at sight of him, and this pleased him very much.</p> + +<p>The summer, brief as a dream, had brought changes +in the flock. The rams had taken on flesh, their coats +were soft and thick and of a uniform brown except for +tufts of white on the sides, under the groin and neck. +The similar markings confirmed Turgen’s belief that +they were of the same family. Warm weather and plenty +of food had made them active, also; often, out of sheer +high spirits, two grown up males would lock horns in +combat. And every day, it seemed, the lambs were inspired +to new feats of inventiveness and daring.</p> + +<p>The male lamb especially enchanted Turgen. Everything +his elders did he tried to imitate, executing leaps +that made Turgen’s heart turn over in fear. At times his +impudent pranks brought him a sharp reprimand from +the leader.</p> + +<p>“The scamp!” Turgen exclaimed. “That one was born +to get himself noticed.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>Soon, Turgen reminded himself, he must exercise still +greater vigilance for with autumn hunters would be +abroad in the hills. While he doubted that his superstitious +neighbors from the valley would come near his +yurta, stranger things had happened and he dared not +count on it. To every hunter the rams were an irresistible +attraction.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 14</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>SEPTEMBER came, bringing its customary changeable +weather. One damp and windy day when all the +furies seemed loose, Turgen went as usual to take food +to his charges and stand watch.</p> + +<p>“Though why anyone should come out in this +weather I don’t know,” he thought. “Even the rams will +surely keep under shelter.”</p> + +<p>But no. He had time only to drop the hay and retreat +to his watching post when there they were in full +strength—the whole family. The rain annoyed them +and they shook themselves from time to time. Otherwise +they showed no discomfiture. While the leader and two +other males circled the clearing on the alert for danger, +the rest stood quietly in the lee of the cliff waiting for +the rain to abate. Looking for the lambs, Turgen saw +them lying snugly under their mothers’ bellies.</p> + +<p>At the first sign of the weather’s clearing Turgen’s +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>favorite jumped up and ran to urge the second lamb to +romp with him. She refused, preferring her comfort. He +then advanced on the older rams, trying by all the wiles +he could command to get their attention. Turgen almost +laughed aloud watching his antics.</p> + +<p>“What a show-off!” Then he worried. “It is cold and +wet for one so young. He will get sick.— But that’s an +absurd idea. He is not made of clay that he will melt.”</p> + +<p>Soon after this the rain stopped and Turgen started +for home. He had gone only a few steps when a shot +rang out. There were hunters somewhere in the hills +nearby—too far away to menace the herd of rams but +the sound of gunfire alone was enough to cause panic. +While the echo was still curling around the mountains +the rams crowded around the leader as he stood irresolute, +his head raised, his nostrils distended to test the +air. It was he who must say what they should do.</p> + +<p>In a minute the old ram turned and came at a light +trot across a narrow stone abutment that formed a +natural bridge between the clearing and the adjoining +hill where Turgen stood. Without hesitation the other +rams followed him in single file, males and females +alternating. Turgen’s lamb was behind his mother and +just in front of the male ram who brought up the rear. +The bridge led to a labyrinth of caves where escape was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>easy. That it led past Turgen seemed a matter of no +concern to the rams in the face of great danger.</p> + +<p>The bridge was no doubt slippery but the rams were +sure-footed and they did not give way to panic. They +were moving in a direction away from the gunfire. But +Turgen had another plan. He would go toward the +place from which the shot came. Should he meet the +hunter, the hunter would understand that he was trespassing +and leave the neighborhood—for such was the +custom. Only one hunter was allowed to a region.</p> + +<p>But before Turgen could act on his resolve, there was +another shot. The ram at the rear of the line, hearing it, +jumped, made an incautious step, and knocked against +the lamb, who fell from the bridge.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 15</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>TURGEN’S heart turned in him as he watched the +small body hurtle down the crevasse. Then, peering +over, he saw the lamb lying motionless on the mountain +slope. Quickly, he made his way to the spot, fearing that +wild animals would get there first.</p> + +<p>The lamb’s eyes, raised to his, were black with terror. +It tried convulsively to rise but could not.</p> + +<p>“Thank God, he’s alive,” was Turgen’s first thought. +“There’s a chance I can save him.”</p> + +<p>With that he stooped and lifted the lamb gently.</p> + +<p>“Ma-a,” said the lamb in a weak, childish whimper. +And from a distance came a mournful answering bleat. +“Ma-a! Ma-a!” that might have been the old leader. +Then fog enveloped the mountain.</p> + +<p>The lamb was surprisingly heavy, but Turgen hardly +noticed the burden in his anxiety and excitement. Carefully +he made his way to the yurta through the darkness, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>and as he went he murmured reassurance to his patient, +who made no further effort to escape.</p> + +<p>“It is not far to go. Be quiet. Rest. Do not fear—I’ll +do you no harm.” Over and over Turgen said it, like +a chant.</p> + +<p>At the yurta Turgen laid the lamb on some soft pelts +to examine him. Noticing fresh blood stains, he looked +for a wound and found a flesh cut under the right front +leg. It took but a minute to wash it clean and cover it +with a poultice of plantain leaves to stop the bleeding.</p> + +<p>The lamb’s fright returned now and he struggled to +gain his feet. But his hind legs would not obey him.</p> + +<p>“There, there, lad,” Turgen soothed him with tender +strokes and pats. “What are you afraid of? I will soon +make you well and take you back to your family. Who +am I but an old man? There is no harm in me. Besides, +who would dare to lift a hand against such a splendid +fellow? Lie still. Trust me.”</p> + +<p>Pain, weariness, and the strange but unterrifying +sound made by a human voice finally had their effect. +The lamb rested while Turgen explored more thoroughly +for possible injuries. There were scratches and +bruises, none of them serious. And one hind leg was +plainly swollen.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_061.jpg" alt="The lamb rested while Turgen explored +for possible injuries"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>“God forbid that it should be broken,” Turgen +thought in dismay. For he was expert with animals and +he knew the difficulty of keeping a wild young thing +quiet while bone mended.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, he found that the injury was no more +than a dislocation, but extremely painful to the touch. +With practiced skill, while the patient bleated piteously, +he swathed the whole body to keep it immobile except +for the head. Then, quickly and deftly, he set the bone, +bandaged the leg and hoof between splints and satisfied +himself that the lamb could do no harm to the injury +should he get on his feet. As he worked the lamb regarded +him with fixed and startled eyes. It was breathing +heavily and clearly would have liked to offer resistance.</p> + +<p>The bandaging operation finished, the lamb grew +calm, fright gave way to weariness.</p> + +<p>“Why,” Turgen thought. “There is the same look in +his eyes that I saw in Tim’s when I set his arm. Children +are alike. They suffer more from fright than pain.” To +the lamb he said: “That other little fellow drank some +milk and fell asleep when I had doctored him. And so +should you.”</p> + +<p>Fortunately, Turgen had only the day before brought +milk from Marfa’s cow. It stood untouched in the cellar. +He poured some into a large wooden bowl and offered +it to the lamb. At first the lamb turned his head away in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>distaste, but when by accident a few drops found their +way into his mouth he smacked his lips with enjoyment. +After that he drank willingly, with relish, looking at +Turgen as if to say: “Really, this isn’t bad at all.”</p> + +<p>Turgen was beside himself with joy as his charge finished +his meal and promptly went to sleep.</p> + +<p>“Food and attention—that’s all anyone wants,” Turgen +reflected. “Just food and attention.”</p> + +<p>It was late when he himself was ready for bed, and +after the agitating events of the day he slept fitfully. +Whenever he wakened, as he did frequently, his first +thought was for the lamb—and this stranger in his yurta +seemed not a wild ram but a person close and dear to +him. By going to his rescue, Turgen had found someone +to share his yurta.</p> + +<p>It is true, he marvelled, what our people say: “Misfortune +can sometimes bring happiness.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 16</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>MAN is a changeable creature—despairing one +moment, filled with joy and confidence the next. “The +sun shines differently every day,” was the way Turgen’s +father had put it, and he found wisdom in the words. +How different yesterday was from today, he thought +upon wakening, and all because of two dark eyes full +of anxiety which greeted him across the room.</p> + +<p>Turgen rose, went to the lamb and stroked its head, +under the soft brown-gray curls were hard knob-like +growths which would one day become horns. Although +the lamb shrank from his touch and tried to hide by +closing its eyes, it did not struggle as before. Nor did +fear prevent it from drinking a large bowl of milk for +breakfast.</p> + +<p>“Oho!” Turgen exclaimed with satisfaction. “Anyone +with a hearty appetite like yours can not be suffering +from internal injuries.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>After the feeding, Turgen washed his patient’s +wounds and covered them with a mixture of fish oil and +tar. “The oil is healing, the smell of tar will keep flies +and insects away.” This, too, Turgen had learned from +his father. He thought of freeing the lamb of the +bandages, but decided “No. He’s too young and frightened +to be trusted. He would only injure himself more.” +As he worked Turgen talked aloud, sometimes to himself +and sometimes to the lamb but always keeping his +voice quiet so that the young stranger would not take +alarm.</p> + +<p>The chores that day were like child’s play, so busy +was Turgen’s mind with plans. Returning from Marfa’s +with a fresh supply of milk for Lad, as he called the +lamb—he thought, “What good fortune has come to +me. When Lad gets well I will take him back to the herd +myself.” And he pictured the reunion of the rams, how +Lad would tell his family of Turgen’s kindness. Who +could say?—the news might even reach the ears of the +Great Spirit. For Turgen could not forget his dream. He +was convinced the lamb had come to him for a purpose, +as a messenger from the old man on the mountain to +test Turgen’s devotion. Should he receive care and attention, +then Turgen at his death would be granted permission +to enter that world of beauty where his wife and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>son dwelt, where wolves were nurses to creatures supposed +to be their natural enemies.</p> + +<p>Such thoughts made Turgen very happy. It seemed +that on this bright and sparkling day the birds were +gayer, the grass greener, the brook more talkative than +he had ever known them to be before.</p> + +<p>When Lad’s wants had been attended to, Turgen +went as usual to the Rams’ Mountain with a feeding of +hay. To his disappointment no rams appeared, though +he waited behind his special rock for some time.</p> + +<p>“Is it possible they have gone away because of yesterday’s +accident?” he worried. “No, surely not. They will +return. They must. Not just because of the food, but to +look for the lamb.”</p> + +<p>This thought had hardly come to him when he caught +sight of the leader ram opposite him on the stone bridge. +The old fellow moved slowly, stopping from time to +time to peer into the ravine. There was something very +forlorn about him and Turgen’s heart went out to him. +As he came to the middle of the bridge he paused, then +on what seemed to be a sudden impulse, he turned, +leaped and vanished.</p> + +<p>Had he gone back to the herd? Turgen wondered. +But no. There he was on the ledge where the lamb had +fallen.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>“Eh, poor fellow,” Turgen addressed him silently. +“It’s too bad I can’t tell you that your boy is alive, that I +am caring for him and will soon return him to you. +Don’t grieve. I will keep my word. And you—you must +not go away from here.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 17</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>TURGEN had but one determination—to see the +lamb well again and back with his family.</p> + +<p>The first few days were difficult. Although Lad was +not as fearful and suspicious as before, he was restive +and tried by every trick to free himself of the bandages. +At the first opportunity, when the shoulder wound +began to heal, Turgen removed the wrappings.</p> + +<p>Like a flash, Lad sprang to his feet, shook himself, +stretched, and bounded on to Turgen’s bed. Then a look +of astonishment came into his eyes as he noticed his +wooden leg. After gazing around the yurta he turned to +Turgen as if to question him.</p> + +<p>“Where am I? Who are you? Why do you live in such +a tiny cave, where there is no room for leaping? And +why is my leg so stiff?”</p> + +<p>Turgen would have sworn that these were the questions +in Lad’s eyes. As he filled a bowl with milk he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>answered softly. “You are surprised, but don’t be +afraid, boy. That drone, maybe your brother or uncle, +who was behind you pushed you off the cliff. Remember? +You have hurt yourself. But in a couple of weeks +you will be quite well again. Believe me.”</p> + +<p>Lad accepted attention willingly now. He ate and +drank with an appetite and submitted with evident enjoyment +to being petted. But Turgen knew that he was +not to be trusted too far, so he made a collar and leash +when he wanted to take the lamb out for exercise.</p> + +<p>Upon leaving the yurta for the first time Lad stopped +as if thunderstruck by the sunlight and the sight of his +familiar mountains. Intoxicated with delight and longing, +he plunged forward but the leash held him fast. He +turned, called in a piercing voice—“Ma-a, Ma-a....” +Then, receiving no answer, he jumped and circled desperately +in an effort to be free.</p> + +<p>“Come, come,” said Turgen as he picked up the +young savage and carried him back to the yurta. “I understand +that you are reminded of your home and family. +You are tired of this dark cage and impatient to be +gone. But there are things that can’t be rushed. Calm +yourself.”</p> + +<p>So for the next two days Lad stayed in the yurta while +Turgen devoted himself to his comfort and was entertained +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>in turn. The lamb learned to take his milk with a +mixture of barley meal and water. He learned that +grass was good to eat, and how to distinguish the +sweet, tender blades from the tough dry ones which +pricked and gave no satisfaction. Turgen never tired of +watching him. To his fond eyes Lad was beautiful with +his proud little head so like the leader ram’s and soft +coat of dark brown spotted with white near groin and +haunches. A darker streak the length of his long face +from forehead to nostrils gave him the expression of a +solemn clown.</p> + +<p>“Truly, you are a handsome lad,” Turgen assured +him.</p> + +<p>Lad loved praise, and did not question anything Turgen +told him. Free to go where he pleased indoors, he +tapped his way boldly about the yurta, thrusting his +nose into everything, sniffing, examining like a curious +puppy. Only once did he show fright, when a fir log +suddenly sputtered in the komelek and sent out a shower +of sparks. After that he treated the fire with mixed caution +and respect.</p> + +<p>Yes, Turgen thought, this four-legged wild creature +had made his life over and filled it with a great content.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 18</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>IT was several days before Turgen found time to +return to the feeding ground with hay for the rams. It +troubled him that he had neglected them, but in honesty +he had to admit that with Lad for company he did not +think so often of the others. He wondered whether he +would miss them greatly should they abandon their +mountain—providing, of course, they left Lad behind.</p> + +<p>“But that is a dreadful thought,” he reproached himself +the next instant. “How could I take advantage of +them by robbing them of their young one? No, no, I +will return him to his family.”</p> + +<p>It crossed his mind also that the Great Spirit would +be angry if he betrayed his trust.</p> + +<p>Again the only ram he could see was the leader standing +on a rocky ledge above him. Turgen imagined that +the old fellow was questioning him as their glances met. +Impulsively he shouted: “It’s all right, my friend. The +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>lad is doing well and I will bring him back to you +myself in a couple of weeks.”</p> + +<p>To his pleasure the ram did not shy from his voice but +seemed to wait for further news of the lost one.</p> + +<p>“He knows me. He knows me, and he is not afraid,” +Turgen gloated. The rams would stay now, he was sure.</p> + +<p>Returning home, he was still some distance from the +yurta when he heard Lad calling “Ma-a! Ma-a!” Just +inside the door the lamb was waiting with eyes which +said accusingly, “You stayed away a long time. Why? +I’m lonesome and I’m hungry.”</p> + +<p>Not a movement escaped the sharp young eyes as +Turgen busied himself preparing food, and everywhere +Turgen went Lad came clumping behind him. There +was no doubt he had been alarmed by Turgen’s absence +and welcomed him home.</p> + +<p>“Eh, my darling, you are very clever,” Turgen complimented +him. And to test him further he called the +little savage by name: “Lad, Lad.”</p> + +<p>Lad cocked his head attentively, which was the only +sign Turgen needed that they understood each other +well.</p> + +<p>A few days later Turgen examined the lamb’s injuries +to satisfy himself that the dislocation was mending +properly and there was no infection, but it was a week +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>or more before he decided that it was safe to remove +the splints. Lad was at first bewildered, then surprised, +then delighted. He leaped on the bed and down again. +He pranced and pirouetted. But when Turgen later took +him for a walk he showed no desire to run away. He was +happy with the day which was as perfect as September +sometimes brings to the Far North. He was happy with +the limited freedom he was permitted on the end of his +leash. Joyously he danced and flung himself into the +air, lowered his head to the ground and kicked his legs +high. And when he had had his fill he came to Turgen +of his own accord singing “Ma-a, Ma-a ...” in a voice +warm with contentment.</p> + +<p>Gladly this time he followed Turgen back to the +yurta, and entered as if the place belonged to him. A +little later, having finished a hearty meal, he folded his +legs under him and fell sound asleep. Just like any +healthy infant, thought Turgen with pride.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 19</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>REASONING that a child can tell you when he is +in pain and where the pain is, but an animal can not, +Turgen watched intently to make sure that Lad ate and +drank as he should and regularly fulfilled the demands +of nature. By this time he was fully assured that the lamb +did not suffer internal injuries. It was a pleasant duty +Turgen performed, making certain that this wild young +thing survived its mishap, and when occasionally he saw +the old ram scrutinizing him inquisitively from the +mountainside he thought that the Great Spirit himself +might be keeping just as watchful an eye on him. “To +see that I carry out His wishes.”</p> + +<p>Does it seem strange that the old ram and the Great +Spirit of Turgen’s dream appeared to him sometimes as +one and the same person? It was not strange to Turgen, +who believed quite simply that the Great Spirit was +everywhere at all times. “Only man is too busy during +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>the day to visit with Him. Therefore He comes at night +to call bringing new faith and strength.” Surely He was +powerful enough to take the shape of a ram if He so +desired.</p> + +<p>Such thoughts comforted Turgen and softened his +dread of having to part with Lad.</p> + +<p>With freedom to move about, young Lad joyfully +took over the yurta. Each day he became more attached +to Turgen, following at his heels like a dog as he went +about his chores. The clearing outside the yurta he also +considered to be his special province and he made no +move to run away even when he was once allowed to +go without collar or leash.</p> + +<p>His eyes questioned sometimes when the day was +clear and the breeze fresh off the hills: “Tell me—what +of my family?” And at such times Turgen answered: +“They are well, believe me. And you are remembered. +I see the old ram often. When you return you must +assure him that I was good to you.” When Lad shook +his head, pirouetted and leaped for glee, Turgen took +his antics to mean: “Ay—I certainly will.”</p> + +<p>It was one day when Lad was frolicking in the clearing +and dancing on his hind legs that the drunkard +Nikita happened along and saw him. Mistaking the +lamb for the devil, Nikita fled shouting down the mountain +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>while Lad, equally alarmed by the strange voice, +rushed to Turgen for protection.</p> + +<p>Turgen guessed the cause of Nikita’s terror. “What a +fool!” he remarked to the flying figure. “Now he will +spread more lies about me. But what can one do? To +shoot at a rock is but a waste of arrows.”</p> + +<p>That same evening Marfa reported the excitement in +the valley when Nikita spread the news of what he had +seen. “He was like a madman,” she said sharply, “shouting +that he saw you at play with the devil and the devil +must be killed. When I noticed people listening to him, +I gave them a piece of my mind. I told them what they +already knew if their heads were not stuffed with hay—that +there isn’t a better man among them than you. No, +nor a better hunter or fisherman. They are envious—that +is all. So they believe an idler whose words are worth +nothing. With his drunken eyes he saw a wild ram. +Tphoo! Of course he lied.”</p> + +<p>Tim and Aksa looked at their mother in amazement. +This was not the gentle woman they knew.</p> + +<p>Turgen shook his head regretfully. “Thank you, +Marfa, but you shouldn’t fret yourself so. Remember +that dry mud won’t stick to a wall. And to listen to +gossip is like bailing out water with a sieve. It is true +that Nikita saw a wild ram lamb with me. Not a full +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>grown ram but a lamb which fell from a cliff and was +injured. Since I have been caring for him he has become +almost tame. That is all. There is no sorcery about it. +Perhaps I should have told you. But as you know, I am +not much of a talker.”</p> + +<p>Tim and Aksa listened, their eyes burning with curiosity +and excitement. They were afraid to ask questions +before their mother’s anger had cooled.</p> + +<p>Marfa herself was surprised by what Turgen told her, +but after a moment’s thought she declared vehemently, +“Well, what’s so remarkable about your caring for a +poor little lamb? The fools might better wonder at +your kindness and your skill than spread these silly +stories. And I shall tell them so.”</p> + +<p>Marfa shook her fist as warning to those “dumb +ones.” Then to the children’s delight she asked Turgen +to stay for a cup of tea. Now they would hear more +about Turgen’s surprising guest. A mountain lamb! +Surely this was the finest of all possible treasures. But to +their disappointment Turgen was not in a mood to talk, +and in fear of their mother they held their itching +tongues.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 20</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>WALKING home that evening, Turgen was troubled +as he thought over what Marfa had told him.</p> + +<p>“Such silly tattle can do me no harm,” he reasoned, +“but what if someone takes it into his stupid head to +sneak up the hill and shoot Lad? So long as he stays +with me there will be this danger. I must give him back +to his family as quickly as possible. There in the mountains +he will have protection.”</p> + +<p>The resolution did not make him happy, especially +when he saw how Lad welcomed him and clung to him.</p> + +<p>“How strange,” Turgen thought, “that a wild animal +can understand affection while people, who should be +wiser, can not.”</p> + +<p>For a long time he could not fall asleep but tossed +from side to side thinking of the empty days ahead when +he would be alone again. Weariness finally won, however, +just as he was praying: “Great Spirit, have pity on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>me ... help me ... teach me.”</p> + +<p>Then Turgen dreamed. In his dream it was raining +and there were loud crashes of thunder following upon +lightning. He went out of the yurta just in time to see +the Great Spirit rush past. But so swift was his flight +that Turgen had no time to utter a word. Bitterly disappointed, +he returned indoors, thinking, “Evidently I +am unworthy to talk to Him.”</p> + +<p>But hardly had he lain down again when someone +knocked on the door.</p> + +<p>“Come in, come in,” Turgen called, and the door +opened to admit a gray-haired old man who looked +strangely like himself. He carried a staff in his hand and +a pack on his back.</p> + +<p>The visitor bowed, saying, “Thank you, Turgen, for +your invitation. It is raining and I am tired. You live so +far from me.”</p> + +<p>Turgen, delighted to have company, begged his +guest, “Come, sit closer to the fire, friend, and rest yourself. +I will get you something to eat.” Then, struck by +the old man’s appearance, he added: “Why do you +climb mountains in this weather at your age? You’re +not strong enough for that. You see my yurta—it is spacious +and I live here alone, except for this lamb. But I +must return him soon to his family. Won’t you stay and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>make your home with me?”</p> + +<p>It didn’t surprise Turgen that Lad awoke just then, +jumped from his corner, and going over to the visitor +placed his head on the old man’s knees. The visitor +stroked him as he said, “You are a good boy and you +fell into the hands of a good man.”</p> + +<p>Turgen, rejoicing at such praise, replied: “The lamb +and his family are a worry to me because people hunt +them, even though they are harmless. It is my belief that +they should be allowed to live in freedom and peace +like....” He was about to say, “like the birds and +beasts who dwell with the Great Spirit,” but something +told him that his guest already knew what was in his +mind for he was nodding. “There is a whole tribe of +wild rams not far from here,” Turgen went on. “Splendid +animals. While I am alive I’ll see that no one +molests them. But I am old and alone. Who will look +after them when I die?”</p> + +<p>Instead of giving him the sympathy he expected, the +old man burst out in anger: “Alone, alone! And whose +fault is that? Your own. Happiness is right under your +nose, but you don’t see it. You are blind as a bat! Why +don’t you ask Marfa and her children to share your +yurta with you? She is a fine woman, and so are the +children.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>“You know,” Turgen replied, taken aback, “I never +thought of that. But it is not yet too late.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t wait too long,” the visitor advised him. “Inquire +of your heart and act as it prompts you. In such +matters the heart is better than the head.”</p> + +<p>Turgen started to say that he agreed but would have +to consult Marfa—and what would the Yakuts say who +called him a sorcerer?</p> + +<p>But the old man answered him before he could speak: +“Don’t let this disturb you. Marfa and the children will +be delighted. As for the Yakuts—don’t pay any attention +to them. It is not that they are evil, only ignorant. +Believe me.”</p> + +<p>At this moment, before he could thank the visitor for +his advice, Turgen awoke. So real was his dream that +he could not rid himself of it. “Amazing,” he murmured. +“A miracle.”</p> + +<p>The yurta was quiet. The fire in the komelek was +dying. The lamb slept peacefully in his corner.</p> + +<p>Being a man of simple faith, Turgen did not doubt +that the dream was a sign given him by unknown +powers. Had he wanted to ask Marfa before to bring +the children and share his yurta? If so, he would never +have found the courage alone to speak to her of his +desire. The dream made everything simple and right. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>He had begged the Great Spirit for help, and help was +given him in the form of advice. Now he had only to +act.</p> + +<p>It was Lad who roused Turgen from his reflections +by butting him gently and crying, “Ma-a, Ma-a....”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” he agreed. “It is nearly daylight and time +to get up and you are hungry. Come, we’ll have breakfast +and off we’ll go.”</p> + +<p>Although it was the last meal they would have together, +Turgen was not sad. Two thoughts were uppermost +in his mind: Lad was going back to his family +where he belonged, and Turgen would soon have a +family of his own to love and care for.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 21</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>RESOLUTELY Turgen set off for the feeding ground +with a bundle of hay slung over his shoulder and the +lamb skipping along by his side. They might have been +out for one of their usual walks. But as they approached +the clearing Turgen noted how the lamb hesitated and +looked about him expectantly.</p> + +<p>“Something tells him that he has been in this place +before,” thought Turgen. The thought made him happy +and filled him with inner peace....</p> + +<p>Suddenly Lad turned sharply and sang out in his +youthful voice—“Ma-a, Ma-a.”</p> + +<p>In reply came the same call, but more strongly and +Turgen, searching the cliffs, saw the old ram standing +in his full magnificence as if frozen to the rocky promontory. +There was amazement in the look he directed at +the man and the returned lamb.</p> + +<p>Turgen shouted: “Come, old man. Come here and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>accept your son. You see, I did bring him back to you. +As you can see, he is well and happy.”</p> + +<p>In answer, the ram raised his head and sent a bellow—“Ma-a, +ma-a”—echoing around the hills. Joy, surprise, +and anxiety were in his voice, Turgen understood. +For how could this savage be expected to trust his old +enemy man?</p> + +<p>While the ram stood there irresolute, not quite able to +believe his eyes, Lad whirled in a frenzy of excitement +and started toward the cliff. Memory guided him and he +ran along the same stone bridge from which he had +fallen. But Turgen had no fear for him now. “Take care +of yourself, Lad,” he called. “Good-by, my dear!”</p> + +<p>Upon hearing his voice the lamb stopped briefly to +send back an affectionate—“Ma-a, ma-a.” It was both +“Good-by” and “Thank you.” With that he disappeared +around a bend.</p> + +<p>For a moment both rams were lost to view. Then they +reappeared on the cliff together—the old fellow and the +youngster who was so like him.</p> + +<p>Turgen greeted them joyfully: “I can see that you are +glad to have Lad back and safe. He will tell you that +people are not all evil.”</p> + +<p>The rams answered him in soft chorus, and vanished. +But they would return—again and again. Of that Turgen +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>was certain. There was a pact between them now +that could not be broken. Turgen would feed the family +and protect them from hunters. The old ram, so wise +and strong, would guard the herd against other enemies +such as wolves and bears.</p> + +<p>“Until some day Lad grows up and takes his place as +leader,” Turgen promised. He was confident that he +could foretell this much of the future.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 22</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>TURGEN had known Marfa as a friend for many +years, but it had never entered his head to suggest that +she and her children share his life. Now here he was on +his way to her, his mind filled with this very idea. Yet +the nearer he came to her yurta the more absurd he +appeared to himself. He was tortured with doubts.</p> + +<p>What was a man of his age to say to her? “Look +Marfa—I live alone, make my own fires, do my own +cooking and sewing, and worry about no one but myself. +It’s not natural. So I have come to ask you to be my +wife.”</p> + +<p>Certainly a sensible woman like Marfa could only +say, “Why, you old fogey, are you out of your senses? +What would the neighbors think if I went to live with +you, whom they consider a sorcerer?”</p> + +<p>Such thoughts made Turgen’s legs grow cold and his +feet drag. Still, he reminded himself, he was following +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>a dream. The Great Spirit had spoken to him, and he +believed.</p> + +<p>Nothing was as he imagined it. Perhaps it was that +heart spoke to heart. At any rate, the moment he entered +the yurta, Marfa gave one glance at him and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“Turgen, your face shines like a nicely polished copper +kettle! Something wonderful must have happened to +you! Is that true? Tell me.”</p> + +<p>Turgen thought, “How could I have doubted my +dream? I did not know how to speak and she has +prompted me. But I’ll lead up to the question gradually.”</p> + +<p>To Marfa he said: “You see, today I returned Lad to +his family. I fulfilled the promise made to the Great +Spirit. It was good, don’t you think?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Marfa answered, perplexed, “but why are you +so happy? I thought you were very much attached to +him. And now you’ll be alone again.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Marfa, but listen. I rejoice because the wild +rams are my own. I have had a sign. They will stay and +I will look after them. Don’t you understand that the +Great Spirit himself has talked to me and thanked me?”</p> + +<p>“Wait, wait, Turgen,” Marfa interrupted. “I don’t +understand a word of what you’re saying. I believe in +the good spirits, but I can’t say that I have ever talked +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>with them. I’ve never even seen them in a dream. Are +you sure you are in your right mind?” There was +anxiety in her voice.</p> + +<p>Turgen smiled as he said firmly, “I am not out of +my mind. Listen to this—” And he told her from beginning +to end how he had become interested in the starving +rams, how he had tended them and saved the lamb. +He told her too about his marvelous dreams. It seemed +to him that never before in his life had he been so +eloquent.</p> + +<p>Toward the end, looking at Marfa’s attentive, smiling +face, Turgen knew without doubt that she understood +everything he would say.</p> + +<p>When he had finished she put her hand on his head +affectionately as if he were one of her children and said: +“You are a good man, Turgen.... And your dreams +are good, too. I wish nothing better for myself or for +the children. I know that they love you. We will all be +happy. And once we are living as husband and wife, +people will stop their evil gossip.”</p> + +<p>She turned to Tim and Aksa, who were listening with +curiosity and whispering to each other. “Children, Turgen +will live with us from now on. Are you glad?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes!” they answered, their voices eager, their +eyes sparkling. They were delighted.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 23</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>THAT was a day of gayety and laughter for all of +them. When Turgen left toward evening, Aksa who +was more talkative and more inquisitive than her +brother asked her mother,</p> + +<p>“Now that Turgen belongs to us, will we go to live +in his yurta?”</p> + +<p>“No, daughter,” Marfa replied. “We will live here, +for he has not enough room for us, and up in the mountains +there is no food for a cow. In the summer we can +visit him.”</p> + +<p>This did not entirely please the children, who hoped +that their new life would be full of change and excitement. +To live in the mountains, which they did not +know except from the valley, would be wonderful. But +grown-ups could not be expected to understand.</p> + +<p>“I want to look at the sky from the top of a mountain,” +Aksa declared. “Turgen says that good children +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>can see angels in the sky. But I would be happy just to +see their wings.”</p> + +<p>Tim spoke up firmly: “And I want to see Lad and the +other rams.”</p> + +<p>“So do I,” Aksa added quickly, not to be left out.</p> + +<p>Marfa smiled. “Turgen is coming again early tomorrow +morning, and if you ask him he might take you +home with him for a visit. If the weather is warm you +can even stay over night.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mama!” the children exclaimed. “Will you ask +him, too?”</p> + +<p>“Of course.”</p> + +<p>That night the children prayed that the next day +would be warm and Turgen would accept them as his +guests, so it did not surprise them upon wakening to +find the day bright and their friend bending over them.</p> + +<p>“Dress yourselves, children,” Turgen said, smiling, +“I am very glad to take you with me if you think you can +stand the walk uphill.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, we can. We are good walkers,” they answered +him.</p> + +<p>Soon they were ready for what was their first adventure +away from home. Marfa gave them milk to take +along, with barley cakes and dried fish.</p> + +<p>A twisted path led up the mountain. Turgen walked +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>in front, with Aksa behind him, and Tim bringing up +the rear. The path followed a talkative little brook and +all around was heavy shrubbery with tall fir trees, +larches, and graceful white birches for background. +Their progress was slow because the children must stop +every few steps to pick and eat some of the black and +red currants and bird-cherry berries so tasty this time +of year.</p> + +<p>Birds overhead twittered so noisily that Aksa asked +Turgen seriously, “What do you think? Are they rejoicing +because we are here?”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he answered just as seriously. +“It is well known that birds like good children.”</p> + +<p>Everything amazed the children. The familiar brook +was brighter, swifter, more mysterious in this higher +ground. The woods held fascinations and terrors they +could only imagine. Never having been far away from +their yurta in the valley, they were—thanks to Turgen—entering +a brand-new world. If they stopped frequently, +it was not only because of the berries or because they +were tired, but because they needed time to take in all +the wonders. From up here the valley was a different +place than they had known—like a child’s plaything +laid out in squares of green and brown, with the brook +wending through it, a silver thread.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>“How close it is!” they marveled. “And we thought +we had walked a long way. Close and small.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Turgen said, as they strained their eyes to +find their yurta at the bend of the river, “we live only +four miles apart. From a mountain everything appears +clearer.”</p> + +<p>The path grew steeper the nearer they came to Turgen’s +place, and care had to be taken to avoid loose +stones and trees blown down in a storm. But neither +Aksa nor Tim lagged behind their host. They were so +happy to have all of his attention, so eager for what +was coming next, that they could think of a hundred +things to say. Aksa especially was very inquisitive.</p> + +<p>“Turgen,” she asked, “why do you live in the mountains +instead of the valley, like us?”</p> + +<p>“Why? I don’t know myself,” Turgen answered. +“We Lamuts always prefer to live in the mountains near +water. We aren’t like the Yakuts who need good grazing +grounds for their horses and cows. Look at me. I +have nothing except two guns, fishing tackle and my +strong legs. I don’t even own a dog. Most Lamuts are +poor. It seems to be our fate. Besides, there aren’t many +of us left. Here—I’m the only one. There was another +family lived here several years ago, but they moved.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” Tim wanted to know.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>“I can’t say, my boy. Just as a fish seeks deeper water, +so a man looks for a place that will be better for him. +Only happiness does not lie in changing one place for +another, but in belonging to a fine family like yours.”</p> + +<p>Turgen patted Aksa’s head as he spoke.</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you have a family before?” she questioned.</p> + +<p>When Turgen answered her his face was sober. “Yes, +but they went away, leaving me alone.”</p> + +<p>“To what place did they go?” the girl persisted.</p> + +<p>But Turgen could not talk about this. “To the place +all people must go. It is too soon for you to understand.”</p> + +<p>Before Aksa could open her mouth for another question, +Tim pulled her painfully by her braid, saying, +“We are now your family. So Mama said. I will live +with you, Turgen, forever.”</p> + +<p>“And so will I!” Aksa hastened to add.</p> + +<p>“Splendid!” Turgen said, the smile coming back to +his eyes. “And now that is settled we must get to the +end of our journey.”</p> + +<p>Tim, wanting to distract attention from a subject that +was plainly not to Turgen’s liking, and also because he +was bursting with questions of his own, blurted out: “Is +it true what people say, that you are friendly with wild +rams?” When Turgen showed no sign of distaste for +this subject, he rushed on: “I can hardly believe that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>rams will let you come close to them. From what I hear, +they run faster than the wind and can jump from one +mountain to another. It is difficult even to see them. We +have never seen them—not Mama nor Aksa nor I. Are +they really so smart that they know of danger before it +comes near them? People also say—”</p> + +<p>The boy broke off sharply.</p> + +<p>“That I am a sorcerer and bewitched. Is that what +people say?” Turgen finished for him. But his expression +was kind.</p> + +<p>Tim nodded. “This we don’t believe.”</p> + +<p>“Good. People will always talk a lot of nonsense +when they haven’t anything better to do.” Turgen shook +his head. “More’s the pity. But since you are interested +I will tell you what I know of the rams. What you hear +is part true and part exaggeration. Yes, Lad was my +friend. I cannot say as much for the old rams who are +still fearful because I am a man. And why should they +love us who hunt them down?” Turgen hesitated. “Later +I will tell you more. And tomorrow, if you should happen +to wake up early, and the day is bright, you will be +able to see the rams for yourself on top of that cliff over +there.” He pointed to the one opposite his yurta.</p> + +<p>Aksa and Tim clapped their hands and whirled with +joy. “Will you, Turgen? Oh, will you? We will do anything +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>you say, and get up very early.”</p> + +<p>A sight of the rams was worth any promise.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 24</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>ANYTHING new has a special wonder. Tim and +Aksa had never been in a yurta like Turgen’s before and +they had to explore every nook and corner. The mountains +hovering over it were giants standing guard. The +tiny window which with difficulty let in light might +have belonged to a playhouse they built for their own +amusement.</p> + +<p>Listening to them exclaim and argue and laugh, +Turgen prepared dinner. Here and there, in and out, the +children ran like busy moles. Secretly they hoped for a +glimpse of the mountain rams that same night. Yet they +were willing to wait, for Turgen had promised. It +would be hard to say whether Turgen or his guests +were happier.</p> + +<p>Dinner was a feast. There was ukha or fish-soup +which they drank out of wooden bowls, there was also +fat fish and pheasants roasted on a spit. And to top it +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>all was tea with ... sugar! Yes, it was a real feast, +something to tell their mother about.</p> + +<p>Yet the children’s real joy that day came not so much +from the trip up the mountain and the good food as +from the attention Turgen paid them. They were not +used to this. Their mother, they knew, loved them, but +she was always so busy looking after them that she had +little time to play with them. Here was Turgen ready +to devote a whole evening and day to them.</p> + +<p>And this was not all. They would hear the story of +the rams.</p> + +<p>Their stomachs so full that it seemed they must burst, +Tim and Aksa waited while Turgen cleared away the +meal. He then went to the door and stood looking out. +They understood that he was hoping for a glimpse of +his rams.</p> + +<p>“Can’t see a thing,” he said finally, turning back to +the room and closing the door against the cold air. +“What do you say to some more logs on the fire?”</p> + +<p>The children nodded.</p> + +<p>Soon flames were dancing in the komelek, the room +was snug and warm. Turgen lit his pipe and smiled at +his guests, well pleased with them and the day. He was +content now to sit in silence and enjoy the comfort. But +not Aksa.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>“Turgen, is it true that you are old?” she wanted to +know. Then, seeing him smile, she hastened to add, +“Mama says that only your hair is old—that you are +strong and walk the earth as lightly as a mountain ram.”</p> + +<p>Turgen’s face showed his pleasure. “A clever girl,” he +thought, and was not surprised by her next question: +“You haven’t forgotten your promise to tell us about +yourself and the rams?”</p> + +<p>He shook his head. “How could I forget? It is all so +close to my heart.”</p> + +<p>With that he began to talk. He started with the time +long ago when he had been young and happy, told of +his struggles and adventures and marriage. When he +came to the death of his wife and son, Aksa and Tim +shed tears for him in his loneliness. The next moment +they were all smiles again as he described finding the +rams who brought new meaning to his life. But most +exciting was the account of his remarkable dreams. +Here Aksa began to fidget on the bench by the fire and +pressed close to Tim, who sat motionless with his mouth +open, his unblinking eyes fixed on Turgen.</p> + +<p>To them it was not a dream that Turgen had visited +the Great Spirit and later entertained him as a mysterious +wanderer. They accepted it all as something which +had really happened and their admiration for Turgen +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>was unbounded.</p> + +<p>“As I see it,” Turgen declared in conclusion, “the +Great Spirit gave me a love for these rams as a gift for +my old age. Then, pleased that I cared for them according +to His bidding, He blessed me with a fine family.”</p> + +<p>The children jumped up, ran to Turgen and embraced +him. Their eyes were full of love, their heads full of +questions.</p> + +<p>“Now, together, we can protect our herd,” Turgen +said with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“But how?” asked Tim.</p> + +<p>“Quite simply,” Turgen replied. “We have a custom +which says that only one hunter is permitted in a district. +As I live and hunt here, and do not molest the rams, they +are safe.”</p> + +<p>“But if you do not come close to them,” Tim persisted, +“how can you be sure they are the same rams you +knew long ago?”</p> + +<p>Turgen hesitated. “That I can’t know for certain, my +boy, but a bird can be followed by its flight, and an animal +by its tracks. I saw their tracks more than once. The +same family? Maybe. Maybe not. One thing I know +well, that rams love to return to their native haunts. +Naturally, they avoided me, for how could they know +I was their friend? Their life was very difficult.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>Aksa’s eyes asked a question.</p> + +<p>“Why? Food is scarce and the rams have many enemies: +people the most dangerous of all. They can fight +a wolf, run away from a bear, but a hunter’s bullet is +faster than their legs. So they hide among the mountain +cliffs. And what kind of food is there? In summer, a +little grass and a few thin shrubs—in winter, nothing +but half-frozen twigs and old dry moss. Not very nourishing. +It is no wonder the poor creatures die out.”</p> + +<p>Tim, who had been listening intently, now blurted +out: “I think they must be stupid to live in such places. +All they have to do is come to lower ground where +there is plenty of food.”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary,” Turgen told him, “they are smart. +Where they live there is sand and gravel and loose +stones to warn them of the approach of an enemy. Have +you ever tried to walk quietly on gravel?... Well! +The rams had their choice—to live in terror of their lives +below where there is food, or to go hungry and free. The +dead need nothing. They chose to live and be free. In +their independence they remind me of my own people—the +Lamuts. We too are dying out, but we are free.”</p> + +<p>“The poor rams,” Aksa commented. “During a snow +storm we keep a fire burning day and night, but they +have no way to warm themselves.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>“Yes,” Tim agreed. “And even with fire and food we +do not have an easy time of it in winter.”</p> + +<p>Pleased to have aroused the sympathy of his young +guests, Turgen replied, “It is impossible not to pity these +fine savages. Fortunately, God has provided them with +some things to help them in their struggle. They are +strong, have great endurance, and towards winter their +wool becomes thick and long. Moreover they are intelligent. +You see how I built my yurta between cliffs. In +winter everything is so covered with snow that there is +not a chink for the wind to enter in. And wind is far +more dangerous than frost. The rams know this, so they +seek for themselves caves in the mountains where they +too will be protected from the wind. Their great misfortune +is hunger.”</p> + +<p>Tim considered a moment. “Is there no way to help +them?”</p> + +<p>“If we would, yes,” Turgen answered. “I have heard +that in other countries rare animals are protected by law. +It is forbidden to hunt them. But we have no such law, +even for animals as rare and harmless as these.”</p> + +<p>“We could tame them and use them,” Tim offered. +“One of our neighbors has sheep and I have heard that +mountain rams are wild sheep.”</p> + +<p>Turgen shook his head. “So are dogs related to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>wolves. But there is a proverb: No matter how much +you feed a wolf, he will still long for the woods. I have +never seen or heard of a tame wolf. Wild rams are not +wolves, but it is impossible to tame them.”</p> + +<p>“What about Lad? You tamed him,” Aksa interrupted.</p> + +<p>“That is right. But Lad was very young, and at the +time I got him he was helpless. For a time he was satisfied +to stay with me, but you should have seen how +eagerly he rushed to his father the instant he heard his +voice! When I called he turned his head and looked at +me. That was all.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, how ungrateful!” Aksa exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“It is not a question of gratitude at all. Imagine that +you were lost in the woods and hurt yourself. Someone +found you and took care of you. Then suddenly you +saw your mother.... Wouldn’t you run to her?”</p> + +<p>Aksa’s eyes opened wide. “But Mother and I are people,” +she objected.</p> + +<p>“So,” Turgen nodded, smiling. “But animals too have +a feeling for their own kind.”</p> + +<p>Tim now came to his sister’s defense. “I think Lad +should have stayed with you. Then he would have been +warm and well fed.”</p> + +<p>Turgen answered with a question: “Would you leave +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>your mother who is poor to live in the yurta of a rich +neighbor?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, no!”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t expect any other answer,” Turgen told the +boy. “Our own family always comes first. And sooner or +later, looking at the mountains, Lad would have been +seized with longing to be there with the other mountain +rams. Only by force could I have kept him. Then, maybe, +by the second or the third generation....”</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you?” Tim wanted to know.</p> + +<p>“Keep him by force? No. Better he should live in +freedom.” Turgen paused, and added, “Besides, I was +afraid.”</p> + +<p>“Afraid!” Aksa exclaimed in disbelief. “What were +you afraid of?”</p> + +<p>“The Great Spirit might have been angry,” Turgen +explained, “had I not given the lamb back to his family. +I feared too that the people from below might come and +kill. If they could believe he was a devil in disguise, +they could do anything. There in the mountains he is +safer. It is where he belongs.”</p> + +<p>Turgen rose. “Now come. It is time to sleep if you +want to see my rams in the morning. They come to +gather on that near cliff at sunrise.”</p> + +<p>After a day of such excitements, with the hope of more +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>to come, the children had hardly time to cover themselves +with blankets and quickly say a prayer than they +were asleep. Turgen did not follow them immediately +but sat smoking by the fire. His face reflected joy in his +new fortune. In his heart too was a prayer.</p> + +<p>“I thank Thee for the gift of this fine family, and for +your goodness to my rams who are also dear to me. +Teach people to let them live in peace. For nothing is +impossible to Thee.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 25</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>TURGEN was wakened next morning by the cold +rushing in through the chimney of the now dead komelek. +He jumped out of bed, revived the fire, put water +to boil for tea and then stepped out of the yurta.</p> + +<p>Before him were the mountains enveloped in a thick +white-gray fog. He peered in the direction of the cliff +where he expected the rams, but could see nothing. +Anxiously he waited. They must come! The fog must +lift! He had promised the children.</p> + +<p>When the rising sun sent its first golden threadlike +rays into the sky, slowly, slowly the fog moved up the +mountains. Fearing to miss a moment Turgen shouted +from the door of the yurta: “Tim! Aksa! Get up! It is +time!”</p> + +<p>The children scrambled from their beds and still in +their bare feet rushed to join Turgen. With eyes opened +wide to miss nothing of the spectacle, they saw for the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>first time day break over the mountains. It was a dazzling +sight. And as the mist gave way before the power +of the sun, there were the rams—shadowy silhouettes, +then the whole herd seen sharp and clear.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_106.jpg" alt="There were the rams"></div> + +<p>The leader was standing in front by himself, with +the others ranged around him. They were posed as for +a show.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>“Look,” Turgen was saying. “There beside the old +fellow is my Lad. See, he is looking straight at us. I am +certain he has told them about us.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, they are beautiful!” Aksa exclaimed.</p> + +<p>To her, their beauty was enough. But Tim’s thoughts +went farther. “I hope they will always come to this +mountain,” he said.</p> + +<p>“They will if we care for them and love them,” +Turgen assured him.</p> + +<p>The three stood without moving, watching as the +leader ram signalled to the herd and led them down the +mountain out of sight. Even then they were reluctant to +let the moment go. The rams and the mountain against +the red-gold sky was something to keep forever.</p> + +<p>Tim broke the silence, and his voice was a little sad: +“Eh, Turgen, I do want them to live in health so that +we can enjoy them if only from a distance. God save +them from hunger and cold and wild beasts and +hunters.”</p> + +<p>“So long as I live,” Turgen answered, “they will eat +well and be safe from hunters. But what will become of +them after I die? This is my worry.”</p> + +<p>Impulsively Tim caught Turgen by the arm. “Then I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>will feed and protect them. I promise you.”</p> + +<p>“And I, and I, too!” Aksa exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Turgen put his arm around the children. “Wonderful!” +he said. “You make me very happy. Feed the rams, +love and protect them. The Good Spirit will reward +you for it, as He has rewarded me.”</p> + +<p>Indeed, at that moment Turgen felt himself to be +the happiest of men.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 26</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>WINGS of happiness lifted Turgen’s spirit in the +days immediately following his understanding with +Marfa, until it seemed that the world was a new and +more beautiful place. He looked at the sky, the mountains +and the forest around him with eyes that appeared +to see them for the first time. Even his yurta, so dark and +cramped, was larger and brighter, though its solitary +window was still covered with snow. In the silence +surrounding him he caught sounds of life filled with +excitement and promise.</p> + +<p>“Is not all this a dream?” he asked himself. Then his +common sense answered: “No, it is not a dream, or +there would be fear in my heart that it would vanish. +And my heart does not fear.”</p> + +<p>He was very gay as he climbed the mountain to the +clearing with food for his rams. The herd kept out of +sight, but he felt their presence close by in the shelter +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>of the cliffs.</p> + +<p>“Hey there, my friends,” he shouted, “don’t hide +yourselves!” And then, because he had to confide his +news to someone: “Life has now turned her face to us +and everything is going to be well. We are no longer +orphans. I will have a family, and it will be your family, +too. Already Tim and Aksa love you. And they have +made me a promise. As for their mother! Oh, that is a +woman with a heart. The Great Spirit has blessed us +indeed.”</p> + +<p>Turgen delivered his message with full confidence +that the rams heard and understood all that he said, +and rejoiced in his good fortune. He knew the proverb, +“Every man forges his own happiness,” but his case +seemed to be an exception. For what had he done, he +asked himself, that he should be so blessed? Was it all, +perhaps, a sign from the stranger who came to him in +his dream?</p> + +<p>For three days his thoughts were rose-colored. But +no mood will last forever. Gradually doubts crept back +into his mind and by feeding on solitude grew into +monsters.</p> + +<p>“What kind of an old fool am I to be thinking of +marriage at my age?” they went. “How do I dare take +on the responsibility of a family? Not that I am unable +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>to provide for them. But why should innocent people +have to share with me the ill-will of the Yakuts in the +valley?”</p> + +<p>Marfa was a fine brave woman. She and the children +scoffed at the idea that he was a sorcerer. But they didn’t +know what it meant to have their neighbors against +them.</p> + +<p>What was he to do? How could he explain all this +to Marfa and make her understand that his fears were +for her and not himself?</p> + +<p>That was the whole problem—to convince Marfa. It +would require wisdom. And where was he to find wisdom +of the kind needed? Oh, what a muddle it was, and +all because of his pity for the mountain rams. How was +it possible that so much evil could come from good?</p> + +<p>While his mind worried itself in this fashion Turgen +went about his daily chores hoping that the Great Spirit +would grant him still another sign, and save him before +the final moment of decision. There was much work to +be done. There were the fishing nets in the lake to +watch. There was game to be hunted, and snares to be +examined from time to time. Also he had promised to +sew new moccasin boots for Tim and Aksa. Then on +the following Sunday he would return to Marfa’s, when +she expected to decide upon the day for the wedding.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>What this wedding would be like Turgen did not +know. He remembered very well his first marriage, +which had taken place early in the autumn. Several +couples gathered outside the chapel and were united by +one ceremony. There was a small table holding a cross +and a bowl of water. A person called a monk read a +prayer, sprinkled holy water over them, and invited +them to kiss the cross. Then a man wearing glasses wrote +down their names—and that was all. This had been long +ago—so long ago. How would it be now if Marfa was +not persuaded by his reasoning?</p> + +<p>It was good to be busy, for then he could not think +too much.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 27</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>EARLY Saturday morning Kamov was due to call +with provisions. Turgen knew that he had a credit with +the merchant amounting to more than three hundred +roubles. Add to this the value of the pelts he had on +hand, and the sum would be about five hundred roubles. +A lot of money. It would buy not only necessary supplies +but dress goods for Marfa and the children.</p> + +<p>“It might be well also,” he thought, “to get another +cow and a good horse.” For though he reasoned with +himself against the marriage, he could not give up hope. +The merchant was a man to be trusted. He would ask +his advice.</p> + +<p>That night Turgen tossed in his sleep and his dreams +were troubled. He dozed, wakened, dozed again and +heard himself mutter: “But I cannot let the poor creatures +starve in order to convince stupid people that I am +not a friend of the devil. What kind of happiness would +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>I have? No and no!”</p> + +<p>And then to his surprise he saw Lad at the door of +the yurta, looking at him with affection and saying in a +human voice: “Why don’t you sleep, Turgen? You +know that I and my parents, and indeed the entire herd, +are praying for you. Sleep. All will be well.”</p> + +<p>Turgen sprang from his bed, rubbed his eyes and +looked around the yurta. No one was there. Logs +crackled in the komelek, the room was warm and snug. +Stepping outside the door he looked at the moon and +stars, worlds away, making bright patterns in the night-black +sky. A wonder, but distant from his thoughts just +now. “Merciful God,” he whispered as he turned back, +“what is wrong with me? Am I ill that such strange +things haunt me?”</p> + +<p>Suddenly something came over him, a feeling of +peace and well-being which seemed to promise that +though he could not know the answers to all his questioning, +they would be revealed in good time. The +Great Spirit was on guard and would see to it. So, reassured, +he fell asleep.</p> + +<p>When Kamov arrived in the morning, Turgen greeted +him cordially and set about preparing refreshments. +Outwardly he was calm but he had difficulty keeping +mind on what the merchant was saying. Once he caught +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>himself hanging an empty kettle over the fire, and +nothing he wanted was in its usual place.</p> + +<p>Kamov could not help noticing Turgen’s distraction. +Perhaps the man was ill—worried. To live too much +alone was bad. The merchant respected the Lamut and +liked him. He remembered with gratitude how once +Turgen had cured him of acute stomach pains, and he +would return the favor if he could. But it is not the +habit of northern people to pry. There is a right and a +wrong time to ask questions.</p> + +<p>So the two men ate while they exchanged news of no +importance. Afterwards they settled back to enjoy their +pipes. From behind a cloud of smoke Kamov spoke.</p> + +<p>“You know, Turgen, you have a considerable sum of +money with me. Hundreds of roubles. Why don’t you +spend some of it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes ... Well ... I have everything I need....” +Turgen stopped, not knowing how to tell the merchant +what was in his mind. “However, I have been thinking +of making quite a large purchase.”</p> + +<p>Kamov saw that the conversation was taking an important +turn. Cautiously feeling his way, he said:</p> + +<p>“I mention this because we are living at God’s mercy. +If I should die, no one would know how much I owe +you. For I carry everything in my head. You know yourself +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>that most of the hunters are in my debt. And your +case is special. I should not like to go before God owing +you so much. It happens that I have brought with me +a great deal of merchandise. Friend, take as much as +you like.”</p> + +<p>“Why talk of death?” Turgen answered. “May God +grant you many summers and winters of life in good +health. It is already more than thirty winters that I have +been dealing with you and I am not complaining. Besides, +who of us knows whose turn will come first?”</p> + +<p>Kamov sighed, “Nor am I complaining. My health +and business are very good. I won’t hide it from you. I +make a fair profit, and without cheating. Maybe that is +why God has blessed me with a comfortable living and +a fine family. I am surprised that you go on living alone. +It must be hard—ay?”</p> + +<p>It was this question that Turgen needed to unlock his +thoughts. He took a long pull at his pipe before he replied: +“It is difficult, very difficult. But a change is about +to take place in my life....”</p> + +<p>Carefully he told the merchant all about Marfa and +the children, and how happy he would be to have a +family except that he feared the ill-will of the Yakuts +in the valley would spoil everything.</p> + +<p>“You know yourself,” he concluded, “that I am not +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>a sorcerer. I believe in God. I had thought to purchase +quite a lot of your wares, also to ask where I could get +a good horse and cow. Then my household would be +complete. But what about this feeling about me? What +was bad before will be doubly bad if I have a family. +I want to explain all this to Marfa, but I don’t know +how. God forbid, she might think me a coward and +afraid of responsibility. You are a wise man ... what +do you advise?”</p> + +<p>Kamov leisurely emptied the ashes from his pipe, was +silent a moment and then said:</p> + +<p>“You ask for advice? I’ll give it gladly. But this +matter isn’t as simple as it seems. It needs explaining. +Yes, I’ve heard the gossip about you—such lies I wonder +anyone can believe them. You should have spoken +to me before. Why didn’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” Turgen admitted. “But a man is +ashamed to be thought a partner of the devil.”</p> + +<p>Kamov scratched the back of his head as he considered +this.</p> + +<p>“It is and it isn’t a matter for laughing. When I was +young and a hunter, a bear once rumpled me badly. But +the wounds healed long ago and now I feel no pain at +all. Yet human tongues speaking evil can inflict wounds +no medicines will heal....”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>He paused, filled his pipe and lit it. Suddenly a smile +broke over his face. “My friend, I have found a way out +for you! Why didn’t I think of it before? It is so very +simple.”</p> + +<p>Excited, Turgen jumped to his feet. “Then tell me. +Help me.”</p> + +<p>“Of course ... of course,” Kamov said reassuringly.</p> + +<p>He rose, paced back and forth for a minute, and +stroked his forehead as if gathering his thoughts together.</p> + +<p>“Turgen, you know that the Yakuts are like children. +It is easy to lead them astray with lying words. But no +one can doubt that they believe in God and fear the +devil. No one. They are all Christians even though many +of them still run to the shamanists. It was the shamanist +who did you the greatest harm—because he was jealous +of you. The people came to you for advice and to be +cured and you helped them without charge. This took +business away from him.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe,” Turgen admitted.</p> + +<p>“Believe me, it was so,” Kamov said positively. “And +for that reason the shamanist spread foolish tales about +you—how with the devil’s help you were able to make +friends with the mountain rams. The simple people +could believe such nonsense because rams are known to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>hate the scent of human beings—so why would they eat +the food you brought?... No, the Yakuts are stupid +no doubt, but not evil. They just believed the first +thing they heard. Now—”</p> + +<p>Kamov paused dramatically.</p> + +<p>“My idea is this. The Yakuts are Christians. They +believe in God. You and Marfa are Christians. That +being so, you must be married in the Christian manner. +You see how simple it is. Once you are joined in God’s +temple by a priest, who will sprinkle you with holy +water and give you the Gospel and the Cross to touch, +not a soul will dare to say that you are a friend of the +devil. Believe me, faith and prayer—they are the best +answer to slander. Do you understand?”</p> + +<p>Turgen nodded. “I feel that you speak the truth, +Kamov. Tell me, what must I do? Go to a priest? That +will be about sixty miles, but I can do it easily on my +skis. What shall I say to him? I have never in my life +had anything to do with a priest. And this is a delicate +subject.... Teach me, my friend!”</p> + +<p>Kamov patted Turgen on the shoulder, pleased to +have his advice so well received. “Don’t excite yourself. +You need do nothing. I will see to everything myself. +The priest is a friend of mine. You will make a donation +to the church and pay the trifling expenses—that is all. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>Thank God you are not a poor man.... And now we +must set a day for the wedding. What would you say +to Sunday, two weeks from now? Time is needed for +preparations, and I want to spread news of the wedding +among the valley people. Father Peter, as you know, is +greatly respected. I shall tell the Yakuts, too,” Kamov +added with a sly wink, “that I will be your best man. +Popov can give the bride away. Everyone looks up to +him, and besides he lives close to the chapel. Do you +agree?”</p> + +<p>“I agree to everything. Thank you. Thank you,” said +Turgen gratefully.</p> + +<p>“Well, then, all is settled. Just don’t say anything to +Marfa. I will see Popov at once, and arrange for a party +at his house after the wedding. He’s a good man and I +do a lot of business with him. He won’t refuse. About +the cow—we will buy that from Popov. One hand +washes the other, you know.” Here Kamov winked at +Turgen again. “As for the horse, that will be my present, +as best man, to you. But there is one thing I ask of you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” Turgen interrupted. “Anything.”</p> + +<p>“I know that you are not a drinking man, Turgen. +Perhaps you do not approve of others drinking. But the +Yakuts will not think it possible to celebrate an occasion +as important as a wedding without both prayer and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>vodka. Nothing too gay because you aren’t young any +more. Just enough to wet their throats and lighten their +hearts.”</p> + +<p>Turgen smiled. “Why not? I have no objection. I do +not drink because many years ago I took a little too much +of the poison, and when returning home I lost my way, +fell into a hole and almost froze to death. That experience +taught me a lesson, and I promised my wife that +never again would I touch a drop of the stuff. However, +it is not for me to sit in judgment upon others. Our +guests must be free to do as they please.”</p> + +<p>“Good!” Kamov exclaimed. “That’s a sensible and +just way to look at it.”</p> + +<p>Kamov remembered at this point that his horses had +not been fed or watered.</p> + +<p>“It’s a pull up the mountain, too,” he explained, +“though fortunately the snow is not deep. Come help +me bring the merchandise indoors where you can examine +it. If I don’t have everything you want with me, +I’ll get it from my store and send it direct to Marfa.”</p> + +<p>As Turgen selected from Kamov’s stores all the things +he wanted for Marfa and the children and the new home +they would have together there was joy in his heart. +Thinking of the pleasure his purchases would bring, he +considered that he was performing one of the most important +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>acts of his lifetime. And this feeling of exaltation +stayed with him long after Kamov had left.</p> + +<p>“No, the world is not lacking in kind people,” he +reflected. “How good it is to open one’s heart to a +friend.” Truly it was a miracle that the Great Spirit had +sent Lad in the night with the promise that all would be +well. And how comforting to know that he, Turgen, did +not bear his responsibility alone, but that Someone +greater and wiser than he commanded his life.</p> + +<p>He did his chores that evening as if wings lent lightness +to his feet. After emptying the nets and snares of +game, he rushed to feed his rams. “Eh, my darlings, if +you could only know how happy I am!” he called. But +the herd did not show itself.</p> + +<p>Then before re-entering his yurta, he stopped by the +grave of his wife and son. “Long ago you went away +from me, but still you are close,” he addressed them, +and his words were a prayer. “This is the place above +all places where I find peace. I have come to you often +with my grief, so now let me come to you with my joy. +Give me your blessing, that I am to be alone no longer. +What have I done to deserve this I do not know, but +who does know the Great Spirit or the extent of His +generosity? May His grace be with us all, forever.”</p> + +<p>Such a day must be concluded in a fitting manner, so +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>Turgen got out his reed and played and played until it +seemed the walls of the yurta could not contain so much +melody. He sang of hope and joy and beauty and peace +of soul. And finally he slept dreamlessly, hearing still +the music of his own creation.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 28</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>THE next two weeks sped by. There were visits to +Marfa and the children, plans to be made and discussed. +And several times Kamov called to report cheerfully +that everything he had undertaken to do was progressing +splendidly.</p> + +<p>According to him, the people of the valley were at +first completely overwhelmed by his news. “Have you +heard? Turgen is going to marry the poor widow +Marfa.” The word spread like fire. What seemed to +occasion surprise was not that Marfa was marrying a +Lamut, but that Turgen was taking upon himself the +burden of providing for her and the children.</p> + +<p>Once that fact was accepted, everyone—men and +women—had something to say about the wedding. A +real wedding, in their own small chapel, with a service +performed by Father Peter himself. And after the ceremony—greatest +marvel of all—there was to be a feast in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>the yurta of the Bailiff Popov, with the doors open to +rich and poor, young and old. The people of the valley +boiled with excitement and amazement. “Just think of +it, Father Peter himself will marry them! What a blessing! +The Father will travel sixty miles just for that! +Such an event does not occur every day.”</p> + +<p>Gradually, in the eyes of the people, Turgen was +becoming a highly respected man, and Marfa a fortunate +woman to get him for her husband. She was +younger than he, but that was considered no obstacle so +long as a man was strong and not bad looking. Moreover, +Turgen was well-to-do. The woman who got him, +said the wives sagely, would not have to work hard.</p> + +<p>Public opinion was so strongly in Turgen’s favor that +when someone mentioned carelessly his friendship with +the devil, the gossiper was hissed into silence. “Keep +your mouth shut,” bystanders ordered him. “Would the +priest have consented to give his blessing if what you say +were true? No. How is it possible that a sorcerer could +cross the threshold of a chapel? No and No. People +were just talking nonsense.”</p> + +<p>Only the shamanist failed to express an opinion. +Those who tried to seek him out and question him were +put off by the woman Stepa who announced with authority, +“The great shamanist is ill and unable to talk.” But +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>she gave it as a fact that he had nothing against the +marriage.</p> + +<p>This was enough to convince the shamanist’s ardent +supporters that they were free to approve Turgen’s action +and attend the wedding. Their approval was strengthened +daily by rumors of important Yakuts who would +be among the guests. And outweighing all else was the +fact that Kamov would be best man. The merchant was +held in such excellent regard that any project he supported +must surely be above suspicion.</p> + +<p>“As long as Kamov is his friend, who dares to be +Turgen’s enemy?” the Yakuts asked of one another. +And so the word was passed along and the day of the +wedding arrived.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 29</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>FROM early morning a large crowd of men, +women, and children gathered near the chapel. At the +hour set for the ceremony a sigh of approval went up as +ten sleighs appeared drawn by white horses whose tails +and manes were braided with multicolored ribbons. +Around the animals’ necks tinkling bells were hung, and +their harnesses were dazzling.</p> + +<p>“Not a bishop or a governor would be ashamed of +such horses,” said one watcher to another.</p> + +<p>In the first sleigh, driven by the eminent Popov, rode +the priest with his psalmist, at sight of whom the men +uncovered their heads and the women bowed low. Behind +the priest rode Turgen with Kamov. Then came +Marfa with the children and the wife of Popov. And +behind them notables of the district with their +wives.</p> + +<p>It was a real procession, grand enough to satisfy the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>most critical. Even nature rejoiced. The sun was out and +the snow sparkled under its rays.</p> + +<p>The priest descending blessed the people, the chapel’s +single bell boomed out, and the guests crossed themselves +as they knelt.</p> + +<p>With difficulty everyone crowded into the small +chapel, for no one wanted to miss this most unusual +event. There was a feeling of expectation and awe.</p> + +<p>Blessing the people again, the priest began to pray:</p> + +<p>“Brothers, sisters, let us pray to the Lord God for all +our people and for the prosperity of our great land.”</p> + +<p>It was a brief prayer, and after that the wedding service +started.</p> + +<p>Turgen felt himself to be in a trance. Never before +in his life had he been the center of so much attention. +The burning candles and the singing moved him to +wonder: “Is it possible that all this is for me, a poor +Lamut? What have I done to deserve such grace from +God?”</p> + +<p>He was in fear of making an awkward movement +that would mar the service. But the priest lent him support +with his kind, understanding eyes, and from time +to time when the questions were incomprehensible, +Kamov came to his assistance. Marfa beside him was +solemn and composed as she whispered what seemed to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>be a prayer, but when their glances met her face lighted +with a smile of quiet happiness.</p> + +<p>To the children it was all part of an enchanting fairy +tale. This was what their mother meant when she said +that Turgen would become their father! It was no more +than fitting, of course, that he should be paid such +honor. For was not Turgen the greatest of storytellers +and the kindest of men? So thinking, they crossed themselves +fervently.</p> + +<p>Still in a daze, unable either to think or to pray in +such magnificent surroundings, Turgen got through the +ceremony, made a sign opposite his name in a big book, +and was taken to the home of the Popovs, where the +tables groaned under mountains of food. There was +frozen and smoked fish, steaming hot soup, slabs of +venison and other meats, and finally delicious cloudberry +with frozen cream.</p> + +<p>After a few tumblers of vodka, the place was filled +with friends who slapped him on the back and showered +him with good wishes. Fortunately, Kamov noted his +embarrassment and saved him from the noisiest guests, +while at the same time he saw to it that the supply of +vodka was limited. There was enough for gayety—and +no more. The presence of the priest also was a sobering +influence.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>It was much later and time for the party to end when +Kamov rose and called for silence.</p> + +<p>“Friends,” he said, “let us wish Turgen, Marfa and +the children a long and happy life. There is a custom +among us to give gifts to the newlyweds, and for my +part I am giving them a fine horse, with harness and +sleigh. I hope they will do me the honor to travel to +their home in it this night.”</p> + +<p>He was about to say something more, hesitated and +then exclaimed: “Hail to the new family!”</p> + +<p>The company broke into enthusiastic applause. “Fine, +fine! Okse! Okse!” It was an excellent speech, everyone +agreed. No one could have done better.</p> + +<p>Not to be outdone by the merchant, Popov now got +to his feet: “And I am making the new family a present +of one of my best milk cows.”</p> + +<p>Others, stirred to generosity by the prevailing good +will, shouted above the hubbub declaring their gifts. +Afterwards all trooped out to the yard to see Turgen +off, on the invitation of Kamov who longed to hear the +horse and sleigh admired.</p> + +<p>After seeing that Marfa and the children were made +comfortable for the ride, Turgen took his seat and to +the accompaniment of gay, friendly voices urged the +horse into motion. Soon the voices were left behind. The +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>forest closed in on either side and there was nothing to +be heard but the pounding hoofs, the creak of runners, +and the cheerful tinkle of a bell around the horse’s neck.</p> + +<p>Marfa touched Turgen’s arm. “It is like a dream,” +she said. “Such kind people.”</p> + +<p>There were many things Turgen might have said in +answer. But why remember evil? So he only looked at +his wife and smiled.</p> + +<p>Aksa, who had been unusually silent, now spoke up: +“Turgen—Tim and I have decided to call you Father. +May we?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed you may,” Turgen responded heartily. “And +just when did you decide this?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, as soon as we left the church.”</p> + +<p>Turgen nodded. “I see. So that is settled and I suppose,” +he added slyly, “you have no other problems.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have,” she retorted. “I want to know what we +are going to call this horse.”</p> + +<p>Turgen deliberated.</p> + +<p>“Would Friend be a good name?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, very good!” the girl exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Tim, impatient with his bold, talkative sister, could +hold in no longer. “It seems to me we have a great many +animals. But to whom will the mountain rams belong?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_133.jpg" alt="They were rushing full speed toward a new and a good life"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>Turgen felt a surge of love for the boy. Half-jokingly +and half-seriously he answered: “Yes, we have the beginning +of a fine household. But the rams belong to +God, and they will always be His. You and I can only +guard and care for them. You remember you promised.”</p> + +<p>Then, his heart so full of happiness that he did not +trust his voice to express it, he grasped the reins and +shouted to the horse: “Come Friend. Hurry! We are +going home.”</p> + +<p>The horse quickened its pace, the children shrieked in +pleasure, Marfa and Turgen looked at each other and +smiled. Not one of them doubted that they were rushing +full speed toward a new and a good life.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER 30</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt="ram's head"></div> + +</div> + +<p>SINCE that day many years have passed. Turgen +and Marfa saw the children grow up, and as the children +grew their own well-being increased. Wealth was never +theirs, but they had enough for their wants, and any +visitor was assured of a welcome place by their fire.</p> + +<p>The Yakuts, conscious of their guilt before Turgen, +did their best to make up for their past behavior and +show their respect. Even the shamanist, now very old, +came one day to beg forgiveness. When Turgen said to +him, “We’ll forget the past. Come and be my guest,” +the shamanist was so touched that he told everyone +“Turgen is one of the kindest of men. There is more +wisdom in his little finger than in my old head.”</p> + +<p>So the old injustice was buried.</p> + +<p>Gradually others came to settle near Marfa’s yurta, +until a large settlement sprang up around the lake. As +they planned, Turgen and his family lived in the valley +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>during the winter and in the mountains during the summer. +Though a great change had come into his life, he +did not forget his rams but cared for them as before. +When age made him feebler, he had a fine assistant in +Tim who was young and strong.</p> + +<p>Turgen lived to see his Lad the leader of a herd of +his own. Then one day, not long after Tim was married, +he departed quietly for the other world where Marfa +had already gone.</p> + +<p>“Do not forget my poor rams and God will be merciful +to you,” were the last words he spoke.</p> + +<p>Tim and Aksa were faithful to their promise. In time +there were four herds in the mountains instead of one. +And the rams no longer fled pell-mell at the sight of +human beings. Perhaps, as Turgen believed, this was +because of Lad and the things he had learned during +the period of his accident. Whatever the explanation, +the rams of this region lived in peace and flourished, +while the people too knew comfort and abundance. +Surely the Great Spirit, who saw all, had given His +blessing.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p><i>So it was that I, a visitor by accident to Turgen’s +mountain country, found proof that my teacher spoke +truly when he said: “Everywhere there is life and everywhere +there are warm human hearts.”</i></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote"> +<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> + +<p>Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.</p> + +<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> + +<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> + +<p>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> + +<p>Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p> +</div></div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77051 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + |