ABOUT HOW ESEN-KHAN SENT HIS TEN THOUSAND ARMY TO SEARCH FOR MANAS
While Manas and his friends were destroying seven hundred heroes, a Chinese man named Tagylyq, who barely saved his skin, rushed to Khan Esen. He ran through the mountains and valleys, both day and night, and after many days, exhausted and weary, finally reached the iron gates of the capital city of Khan Esen. He explained everything to the head of the guard, somehow managed to get to the ruler, fell prostrate at his feet, and trembling with fear and fright, stumbling over every word, crying like a child punished by his father, began:
– O your majesty, my Khan! A son named Manas was born to the Buruts in Altai, and he has turned fourteen. Just his appearance instills terror in people…
– Well, what does he look like? – Apparently, Esen-Khan did not like Tagylyq's words.
– His appearance is terrible, my Khan, frightful… His arms are thick, his heart is like stone, his build is like that of an elephant. Whoever angers him will shed blood; his back is shaggy, his look is like that of a tiger, he is the most courageous of men, my Khan.
– Where are the heroes who went to Altai?
– My esteemed Khan! – Tagylyq, like a small child, continued to cry and told everything as it was. – My Khan, if you do not rid yourself of Manas, sooner or later he will reach Beijing and cause great harm to the Chinese. There has never been anyone like him among people; he is like a roaring tiger. Riding on the horse Toruchaar, fiery as fire, ready to fight the mountains, he is prepared to face any army, which is why he dealt with the seven hundred heroes led by the giant Kochku.
– Hey you, cowardly dog, what are you trying to fool me with?
– My gracious Khan, if I have lied even a little, let me lose my head.
Tagylyq crawled up to Esen-Khan and kissed his feet.
– I am not telling you what I heard, but what I saw with my own eyes, my Khan. After all, it turns out that his birth was proclaimed in the book of fates, my Khan.
Hearing this news, Mankushto and Doodur, the giant with crossed ears Kaman, the heads of the clan, the heads of the people, the military leaders, the fearless heroes, and the chiefs all fell silent, following Khan Esen.
King Esen, enraged, jumped from his throne and attacked everyone:
– I commanded you to find out about this worthless Burut, but none of you told me anything properly. And after that, you say you know everything six months in advance, that you learned from a sorcerer, that you can tell everything about a person without even seeing him, that you are seers? I should gouge out your eyes and hand you over to the dogs for tearing apart!
Foam flowed from his mouth, he pierced everyone around with his gaze, his eyes bulged out as if he was going to tear the heart out of his servants alive. He was pacing like a tiger in a cage, constantly walking back and forth.
When the king approached the head of the magicians, the giant-like Dongo, he grabbed him by the throat:
– Hey, you, Dongo, do you remember when I ordered you to find Manas and bring him to me, you were mumbling about this and that and making nonsense? Do you want me to take your soul out of you right now, huh?
– Your majesty, my Khan, spare me! I swear, if I do not bring Manas right now, then let me lose my head.
– Giant-like Dongo, I will not listen to your plea. Remember, fool, until I get Manas, my fingers will hold you by the throat, and the sword will hang over your head!
The king released Dongo's collar and approached the Kalmak Khan Jolo.
– I thought you were the strongest and bravest hero, that you are not of this world. You used to defeat some strongmen, and I, not trusting any Chinese, fully trusted you even though you are Kalmak. You alone were worth a thousand strongmen. You left no one unscathed; you alone could defeat seventy giants, that is how you were.
Immediately Jolo fell prostrate and bowed his head:
– I am a thousand times grateful to you, my Khan.
– Then listen, Jolo. Gather people who fight well in battle, who skillfully wield a spear, who shoot accurately with weapons, who deftly handle a sword, who skillfully manage a halberd, and set out on a campaign against the Buruts. Bind the rebellious Manas hand and foot and bring him to me. And let him have no scratches, no marks; do not torment him and bring him to me safe and sound. Choose the best bride for this worthless bloodsucker; we need offspring from him. If he has a son, we will place a golden crown on his head, seat him on a golden throne, and declare him king.
– Everything will be done as you commanded, my Khan, – Khan Jolo folded his hands on his chest, awkwardly bowed before Esen, and respectfully lowered his head before him.
– Khan Jolo, hero Dongo. Listen to me and remember well. If you miss Manas and return empty-handed, do not expect mercy from me. I will throw a rope around your necks and hang you alive on the gallows! I will torture you like no one else, and I will destroy your entire clan! If you cannot bring Manas, then consider it your doom. He will bring you much suffering; he will cause you defeat, he will create panic for you and cut off your heads, remember this.
Immediately after this, drums were beaten, numerous warriors mounted rhinoceroses and camels, mules and elephants, and rode out of Greater Beijing to capture and bring Manas. Gathering all the warriors of Kara-Kalmak and Manchurians, waving a gray banner and riding on the horse Achbuudan, dressed in armor and baring his teeth like a tiger, Khan Jolo led his countless army. In armor with a golden collar and copper sleeves, like a blue lion preparing to leap, giant-like Dongo led his huge army. Dust rose to the skies from the feet of the countless horde, covering the sun with a dense veil. Spears sparkled, trumpets sounded, drums thundered so that people's hearts trembled with fear. It seemed as if the mountains around were collapsing, trees were being uprooted, and a mudflow was passing over the ground.
How many roads they traveled, how many mountains they circled, how many rivers they crossed on foot – and after several days, the ten-thousand-strong army under seven flags finally reached Altai. When the troops were distributed along the banks of the rivers, Khan Jolo and hero Dongo gathered for a council. Jolo began to speak first:
– Hero Dongo, these places are very beautiful, the air is clean. It is very convenient to set up a guard. Here we will make a halt; our troops have marched day and night, so they are tired. Let them rest. Meanwhile, let’s find out where Manas is. We will send a hundred men each for reconnaissance. Let there be six merchants among them; let’s fill a caravan of forty camels with goods and additionally add two hundred strongmen.
Dongo agreed with Jolo. They placed a huge giant, like a camel, with ears like a shield, named Doodur, at the head of the two hundred strongmen and gave him such an order:
– Hero Doodur, let them give us Manas in peace. If they do not obey and do not submit to the order, do not give us Manas, then wreak havoc on them, plunder their cattle. Cut off the heads of the most ardent who resist and throw them to their own dogs for tearing apart! In general, capture and bring Manas here, – Jolo commanded authoritatively.
– You speak rightly, hero Jolo. We must act wisely. Doodur, do not show your faces to the cursed Buruts, disguise yourselves as merchants, sell fabrics, goods, and then, quarreling over the price, create a scandal. If they start to argue, immediately grab one and start beating. Burn their houses, scatter the ashes to the wind, and wreak havoc in their ails.
– I obey and will not make you wait long, heroes; I will wait here for Manas, bound hand and foot, – Doodur promised and set off.
They loaded forty camels with gold, silver, various goods, and fabrics, placed six merchants at the front of the caravan, and the two hundred strongmen, disguised as merchants, ready to wreak havoc in the Kyrgyz camp and capture Manas, rode along with them.
Meanwhile, the young Manas was engrossed in playing ordo. For lunch, they slaughtered a colt, ate sausages made from belly fat and intestines, and had fun with forty friends-heroes. Stepping with his left foot onto the circle, Manas threw his bat into the center. While he was engrossed in the game, hitting the bat, forty camels of Esen-Khan, loaded with goods, passed by. One of the strongmen, leading a camel, deliberately walked through the center of the drawn circle. Angered, young Manas struck the bat so hard that one of them hit the camel right in the kneecap, and it, along with all the cargo, crashed to the ground. Among the strongmen walking nearby, a commotion arose; the giant Doodur's hair stood on end, his mustache straightened, he cursed in Kalmak, began to shout, grabbed a halberd, and rushed at the boys. Twelve strongmen with clubs, sixty with spears, and masters of throwing lassos with metal nets rushed to grab Manas.
– Hey, you caravaners and merchants! Why do you not go quietly on your way but interfere with our game? Or are you deliberately teasing us to start a fight here? I will show you right now!
With tiger-like eyes, Manas's eyes lit up; he struck down all the strongmen attacking him with his club and immediately destroyed twelve of them. When he swung his sword, the heads of many strongmen flew off like balls. Seeing Manas's bravery, his forty friends, who had trained for a long time, inspired by victory, rushed at the enemies like falcons at jackdaws. The young warriors, heated and still undefeated, began to crush the camel-like and mountain-like strongmen as if they were grinding grain. While they were cutting and chopping the enemy, the head of the two hundred strongmen, giant Doodur, himself wounded from head to toe, all in blood and therefore unable to help them, took advantage of the confusion, jumped on his horse, and galloped away, saving his own skin.
Worried about the disappearance of his son, Khan Jakyp, who had set out to search for him, saw this whole slaughter. Looking at the dead strongmen sprawled on the ground, his soul sank to his heels. Realizing that tomorrow they would attack the people, he lamented to his son:
– My son, what have you done? We can barely survive here, and you have robbed the Khan's caravan, scattered all the goods, dispersed all the cattle, and moreover, destroyed all the strongmen guarding the camels! Why did you touch the people of the great ruler, what chaos have you started? Ten thousand Kalmak and Manchurians will attack us tomorrow, wreak havoc here, take all my cattle, and plunder all my possessions.
Young Manas, feeling guilty, stood with his head down and could not answer his father. At that moment, Akbalta rode up from a distance and intervened in the conversation:
– Bai Jakyp, you are always grumbling, even though your wealth and cattle are enough for your whole life. But know this, Jakyp, even if you hide in a chest, death will find you. How many kings and heroes have passed away, and you will die at the appointed hour. Let’s see what is written in our fate; we are powerless before God. Our son Manas is still with us; why should we be sad? Let’s rather go back to our Ala-Too, to our native Kyrgyz people.
Khan Jakyp listened to Akbalta, gathered his people, and began to prepare for departure.
Doodur, who had hastily fled from the battlefield, headed straight for the white yurt, where the best heroes of the Kalmak and Manchurians, Dongo and Jolo, were located.
– O, great heroes Jolo and Dongo! The wicked Buruts have wreaked havoc on us, killed all the warriors, and shattered the entire army. I returned to you without two hundred strongmen; they took all sixty camels from me along with gold and silver, took all the goods and cattle.
– Do you hear what this dog is saying, hero Dongo? – an enraged Jolo jumped up.
– Hero Jolo, do you really think I quietly gave away all the wealth? I also fought with all my might, but Manas's halberd got to me, and I, all bloodied and exhausted, could not defend myself any longer. As long as I live, I have never seen such a man before.
– Hey, you, hero Doodur! – the brave Dongo's mustache straightened with anger, his eyes bulged, and he pounced on the coward. – It turns out we called you a hero for nothing. When you destroyed the capital city of Madanshanya and brought its head tied to your saddle, your fame spread among all the Chinese and Kalmak. And now, when you stand before us all beaten and bloodied, when your whole face is painted, we begin to believe that young Manas is indeed an extraordinary hero. Tell us everything in order.
– First, I began to attack Manas, striking with the halberd and hitting with the club. I hit him as I had hit all the strongmen before, but he did not yield. He did not put me in his eyes, and he did not even feel my blows as if they were a pinch. He nearly killed me on the spot.
Jolo looked at Doodur with a smirk in his eyes:
– Hero Dongo, your praised Doodur seems to have weakened and aged, huh?
– Hero Jolo, what are you talking about? I went to capture Manas, and I almost lost my head. I barely escaped, thanks only to my swift steed.
The enraged giant Jolo rose from his seat:
– Doodur, stop babbling nonsense and speak the truth! We considered you a hero, but you turned out to be a cowardly rabbit. Should we gouge out your eyes?
Doodur began to beat his head against the ground and scream at the top of his lungs:
– My esteemed heroes, please listen to me until the end. It turns out Manas is not of this world, and he is an extraordinary brave man. Lord, the world has never seen such a hero: if he catches you in his sight, he will mow you down like grass.
– What are you mumbling about, Doodur?
– Hero Dongo, I am saying it as it is. Even if you send all the Kalmak, Chinese, and Manchurians against him, young Manas will still destroy his opponents: he does not fear death and is not afraid of anyone. This lion will one day conquer the capital city of Beijing. And there will be no one in the world who could withstand him, who would fight him…
Doodur's words greatly angered hero Dongo, and he jumped up and kicked him. Doodur fell backward.
– Get out of my sight! If you were afraid of the worthless Buruts, do you think we will be afraid of them? Have we not seen and do we not know the Buruts? How many beautiful girls, swift steeds, and clever falcons have we taken from them! How many of their best sons, their heroic strongmen have we brought down! Is that not so, Jolo?
– Hey, Doodur, even if he is a lion, we will still capture Manas and wreak havoc on the worthless Buruts. We will slaughter Jakyp, who has fancied himself a Khan, like a mangy sheep; we will destroy his people, every single one of them, whether they are young or old, men or women, adults or children. If their women are pregnant, we will rip open their bellies, and we will offer this Akbalta as a sacrifice! Forward, warriors, spur your horses!
The lagging Doodur began to pound his head:
– Will a lion lie on the road? Have I grown weak that I hide behind the back of the attacker? Will I run away from the meeting, and will the path be cut off for me?
– Hey, Doodur, come on, get up, do not cry. Ride with us.
After Dongo's order, the orderly row of warriors set off on their way.
The Kyrgyz from forty families, preparing to journey to their native Ala-Too, were alarmed. Akbalta and Bai Jakyp gathered the people for a council. Bai Jakyp spoke first before them:
– Dear compatriots! It seems that hard days are approaching us. Countless armies are coming from China; they will kill the few Kyrgyz like flies. They will bind the children, kill the old people, and destroy us all to the root. The Chinese, Kalmak, and Manchurians will plunder our wealth and kill us from the smallest to the largest.
– Jolo is also just a mortal: will he agree to leave us in peace if we give him a steed and put a good fur coat on his shoulders? – said one of the elders present.
– What a wise man, my people. I am saying the same. Let’s choose the most beautiful girls, take the best horses and steeds, along with gold and silver and cattle, and send all this as a gift to the Chinese. We came here from distant lands; let’s listen to such a pig as the giant Jolo. It is now beneficial for us to save our own skins, to stay alive, and not to scatter across the world.
They silently lowered their heads, not knowing how to respond to the people. After a while, Akbalta raised his head and muttered the following words:
– Dear relatives! I think there is sense in what Bai Jakyp said. Let’s think together and agree with what heroes Dongo and giant Jolo will say.
– O, dear leaders, would we refuse your decision? Frankly speaking, thank you for consulting with us. From now on, always decide for yourselves, – said another elder to them.
– My dear relatives, these cursed ones have something else in mind: they want to capture Manas. If they take the glorious Manas from us, what will become of us? Some families have only one son, but some families have five. And what if we give one of them instead of Manas, if we submit to fate and obey the order of Esen-Khan? – Akbalta was forced to say.
Sitting among the people, Manas, hearing these words, jumped up in place:
– Father, uncle, my dear ones! Dear relatives! I do not agree with this decision. As long as I live, I will not give our girls to be mocked, I will not give our young men to be tortured, I will not give our gold and silver, accumulated over the centuries.
– Our dear Manas, you are hot-headed in your youth, – Akbalta began, but Manas continued his speech:
– Uncle Akbalta, I will chase the Kalmak who attack peaceful villages, the rapists of the Chinese and Manchurians all the way to Beijing. As long as I live, how can I give my people to be torn apart? I will fight with swords, I will battle with spears, and if it is destined for me to die, then let an arrow strike me.
– My dear son, you are still not quite strong, you have not yet fully matured. Do not do this, my son, – Khan Jakyp was completely at a loss.
Mother Chiyrdy also began to lament:
– I gave birth to only one son, and everyone is clinging to him, Lord! I barely had a son, and already all the people are attacking him! When will all this end, Lord?
– Dear Manas, you are getting worked up for nothing, – said Akbalta with an important look.
– Uncle Akbalta, – Manas began, but Akbalta interrupted him:
– If nine wolves attack a lamb, will there be anything left of it? If numerous Chinese attack a handful of Kyrgyz, will they leave anything of us, my son Manas?
– Uncle Akbalta, among us are worthy men, there are heroes who do not fear the enemy, there are brave men who look death in the face, there are kinfolk who help each other in hard times. I stand with them; with them, I am a man; with them, I am a people. I hope for you, I rely on you, my dear relatives.
The fearless young Manas's eyes sparkled, his blood boiled within him, and he was ready to take up his sword and rush into battle like a lion.
Hearing the words of young Manas, many were stirred:
– Manas speaks rightly! We support him! Better to die in battle than to be killed at home!
Worried for her only son Manas, whom she bore in her old age, the unfortunate mother Chiyrdy hugged him tightly and kissed him.
– A lone horse does not tread on a hillside, my son, you are my only one. If on a moonlit evening it is dark around, what will it be in the middle of the night? If you suddenly suffer defeat at the hands of the Chinese, what will become of your small people? My only son, be careful. May the Creator accompany you; I entrust you to Him.
Many, in support of mother Chiyrdy's words, loudly blessed Manas.
After the first attack of Doodur, the Kyrgyz sent news to all relatives. In anticipation of the upcoming events, they prepared battle gear day and night, saddled horses for the campaign, and nearly a thousand warriors secretly prepared to march against the enemy.
Young Manas, donning armor and girded with a sharp sword capable of cutting a camel in half, like a lion, rushed at the numerous Chinese and Kalmak. The tireless racing horse, with a short tail, with unflattened hooves, capable of enduring a six-month transition, not tiring for forty days while crossing the desert, not losing its appearance in a battle campaign, Toruchaar playfully galloped under its master, crushing and rolling numerous Kalmak to the ground. In Manas's hands, a sharp sword sparkled; the young man knocked down every attacker, the hero who was further away was unseated with a spear, and the strongman closer to him was knocked down with a blow of the halberd. How many mountain-like heroes and khans fell heroically, each who fought with brave Manas sprawled dead on the ground.
Look at the ants, look at the worms, look at the torrents of pouring rain, look at the arrows raining down like rain, look at the thick thickets of reeds, look at the powerful rushing mudflow, and look at the countless armies of the Chinese, surrounding the enemy with a shout.
Like marsh reeds, spears stick out; some rush with swords, some run with halberds, masters of throwing lassos gallop, thousands of different fighters rush, various strongmen shoot, attacking Manas and surrounding him from all sides.
Despite the fact that only the strong in sleeveless coats, the best of those adorned with stones, chiefs and giants attacked him, Manas, unafraid of death, disregarding the enemies, pierced seven of them with his spear. And when he directed his spear at the enemy, no one could withstand the onslaught; when he swung his sword, no Kalmak could stand firm, and the camel-like Chinese were struck down.
Look once – it seems like six thousand fighters; look again – like a dragon ahead; look a third time – like thousands of warriors; and look once more – an innumerable number of heroes. Thus fought the lion Manas, and the Kalmak and Chinese, frightened by his appearance, fled in different directions.
Unable to capture Manas and not knowing what to say to their ruler, burning with shame for their humiliated dignity, Dongo and Jolo, shouting at the top of their lungs, blocked the path of their fleeing warriors. Jolo angrily yelled at the remaining troops:
– After all, it was Khan Esen himself who commanded us to bring him Manas, the son of Jakyp. How shall we now appear before his eyes if we have suffered such a crushing defeat, lost so many warriors? How shall we tell him what the Buruts have done to us, that they have destroyed our entire army? How will we return without capturing this vile Burut? Let us inflict harm on them and surround them, relentlessly pursue them and crush them mercilessly!
Thus Jolo muttered, scolding everyone indiscriminately, and drove his numerous army towards Manas. The foreign-speaking, one-eyed Dongo from the Sazandjan people, who live beyond imperial Beijing and are renowned for their heroes in the capital, angrily grabbed the banner, instilling terror in those who looked at him, with the appearance of a mountain-like brave man, with a terrible cry, like a roaring gorge, ready to crush not only Manas but all eight thousand worlds, exhaling steam from his nostrils like a large smokehouse, riding on the horse Kylkurena, still not reaching Manas, prepared to swallow him and shouted:
– So you, it turns out, are going to destroy the Chinese, used to beating the weakest of the Kalmak and have grown arrogant. Today I will show you; I will spare not a single Kyrgyz.
In his hands with a club, which resembled a huge cauldron, on his head with a steel helmet, with fire from his mouth, with a fury capable of crushing all the heroes around, unafraid for his life, Dongo spurred Kylkurena and went out to fight.
Manas immediately realized that Dongo was not an ordinary warrior, that he rode with the intention of crushing anyone, and he smirked. He turned the head of Toruchaar, spurred him under the girth, and, aiming his spear at the hero Dongo, charged forward.
With his mane raised to the heavens, piercing the earth with his hooves, rushing like a flying bird, the battle-tested Toruchaar, with his head bent low, ran unusually. When his hooves struck the stones, they shattered into small pieces, disregarding the reins, with foam at the mouth, he flew with Manas on his back. The dark-skinned, fiery-eyed Khan Manas, sitting on his Toruchaar, aimed to strike the brave and insatiable Dongo in the chest just left of the lungs, in the area of the heart – the center of the soul, where the death of such a boastful pig as hero Dongo is hidden, and struck. When the pierced Dongo fell from the saddle, and his legs slipped out of the stirrups, when he was burned inside, and blood gushed from his wounds, when he fell to the ground with a loud crash, like a collapsing rock, Manas's friends, galloping nearby, immediately cut off his head. The now masterless Kylkurena was taken with them. At that same time, worried with various thoughts, with tears in their eyes, Akbalta and Bai Jakyp appeared, deciding that there was no point in living if they had no heir, and therefore ready to give their lives for their precious child, ready to perish for him, ready, if necessary, to be his support and protection, despite their old age, not sparing themselves. Khan Akbalta rode on the side, and Bai Jakyp in the middle, both holding their spears at the ready.
Hearing the news about Dongo, brave Jolo became angry at the best of the Zaisans, the giant Kaman with crossed ears, and the giant John, like an eagle:
– How can we leave here without avenging the vile Buruts, how can we return alive without killing Manas? He has destroyed all the strongmen led by the unfortunate eagle Dongo. If anyone is a hero, let us fight the Buruts; otherwise, why should we stay alive if all of us will be beaten?
Like a black giant, with eyebrows like a faded griffon, with bulging eyes like a wolf, with a threatening look like a wounded pig, he spurred and led the playful Achbuudan – with a small tail, with a thin mane, if he chases a kulana, he will not catch it. Dressed in armor, Khan Jolo, shaking the ground with his horse's hooves like a blue tiger, shouted loudly, instilling fear in the Zaisans, angrily urging them forward, led them into battle.
His nostrils were like hollows in the mountains with high ridges; each cheek of his was like a circle where twelve cowards and forty Manchurians played ordo; the corner of his eyes was like the hollow of two hills; his eyebrows were like burned forests; his thick lips were like the pistons of a herdsman. This giant Jolo, after defeating Madikan on a blue bull and Mamytbek on a gray mule after sixty days of battle – they were from the Sazandjan people, who are on this side of Kak-Tuu – and becoming known among the people of the Chinese, Khan Esen raised him at the expense of the state treasury, putting a talisman around his neck and dressing him from head to toe in gold and silver. And this giant Jolo, at whose sight people were lost, his spear seemed like a huge pine, insatiably thirsty for blood, accustomed to always drinking it, pushing like a boar, roaring like a bear, riding on the horse Achbuudan, raising clouds of dust from under his hooves like mountains, crushing stones beneath him, throwing aside the earth with a crack, huge like a cauldron, cutting the soil layer by layer at the turn, showing the full stature of the steed and blazing with fire, crackling with steel reins under his tongue, went out to fight. Jolo even from afar stopped Manas, who was spurring his Toruchaar and taking his spear at the ready:
– Turn your horse's head, do not rush, Burut, and stand still. Although you are still a youth, it turns out you are getting hot-headed. You are brave but foolish; you do not understand anything yet and are puffing up like a skin in water. Surrender, Manas, and if you are indeed a Burut, give me the right to the first strike, Manas. I am the famous Jolo, not like you, a milk-sopper; I have conquered eighteen thousand worlds. True heroes should meet in battle; come on, let’s fight, Manas.
– Alright, if you want to strike me with a spear, Jolo, try your strength, Jolo. If you cannot knock me down, I will split your head with an axe, and we will settle this. Do not get too cocky; rather, listen to me.
– Good, Burut, I will listen to you. Speak your last words.
– Do you consider me a child, hero Jolo? I grew up in foreign lands; now I will stir your camp, boastful one, I will take revenge on you for everything. In single combat, I will slay you, and if I succeed, I will smash your head. I will not be Manas if I do not crush your camp, if I do not strain myself and chase you all the way to Beijing. And use your right to the first strike, my Kalmak, now: if you cannot, consider yourself dead.
Full of strength, Manas yielded the right to the first strike to the mountain-like Jolo.
Jolo was skilled in battle, so he first observed the calm Manas for a long time, turning his horse Toruchaar towards him:
– My God, he has a fierce look, like a lion; he is not an ordinary warrior…
Jolo saw the companion of the brave hero, a spotted leopard, enraged, tearing up the ground beside him with its legs. The companion of the generous hero, the gray-maned lion, prepared to leap from behind. And he saw that a thousand warriors surrounded the Kalmak from all sides to capture him. And right in front, with its wide mouth gaping, ready to pounce on him was a blue tiger. At the sight of Manas, anyone is lost, as if seeing a lion. He looks into the soul of the hero – and there is a desire to crush him. Both the hero and the tiger are not comparable to others. Thick arms, a stone heart, this scoundrel has the stature of an elephant. His strength is mighty; he is full of rage; whoever he catches, he will crush them, leveling them to the ground. No beast can outrun Toruchaar beneath him; no man can defeat the bloodsucker sitting on him.
– He is, it turns out, a fearsome tiger with the appearance of a huge dragon; he will wreak havoc on all that exists on earth, – looking at Manas, Jolo muttered to himself and realized that his death was near.
But he did not flee from death; he spurred his Achbuudan with his foot, aimed his spear forward, and with a grim look, like a cloud preparing to pour rain, bristling, with a wild scream, charged into the attack. The spear cracked and broke. Brave Manas, like a tiger, calmly withstood the blow; he did not even feel Jolo's spear and did not move at all. "If he strikes back, the cursed Burut will not leave me alive. How many years have I lived, how long have I been known as Jolo, I have never seen such a tiger-like hero before. Once I was a hero, known as a tiger, but now I am no longer that. I brought the whole world into confusion, but now I am no longer that. There is no harsh strength, no power, and I am no longer that."
While the cunning Jolo was pondering, deciding whether to escape or not, the generous tiger prepared to attack and, not looking around, unafraid of death, not glancing around, not fearing to die, like a hungry lion, like a vigilant falcon, aiming slightly above the Kalmak saddle's bows, where the heart's foundation lies, struck.
When the hems of the Kalmak Khan Jolo's robe fluttered to both sides, his eyes bulged, and he, ready for death, was about to lean back, but the rear bows of the saddle held him. "If he turns back and strikes again, then it will be my end," he thought, losing consciousness and awaiting his end at the hands of the young Burut. And while Manas was turning his horse, he called for help from the giant Kaman and the giant John, like an eagle. Sixty Zaisans surrounded Jolo from all sides and, shielding him from blows, led him off the battlefield. When the leopard Manas, not stopping Toruchaar, rushed with all his might after the crowd, the giant John, like an eagle, jumped out to meet him. Manas shouted angrily, repeating the Kyrgyz call, his eyes burning like a lion, aiming his steel club in his powerful hand, he struck him on the head. John's steel helmet flew off his head, the head of the chief of forty Zaisans shattered, his brains spilled out, and he fell from his horse with a gasp. Seeing all this, Jolo said to the giant Kaman with crossed ears:
– I was a mountain-like giant of imperial Beijing. I always killed whoever needed to be killed. I always finished off everyone I fought – Jolo. I always defended the rank with Machin and Kakan. Inside me is fire, and outside is coal, but if he catches up and strikes now, he will not spare me. My whole head is in blood, my whole body is paralyzed. When this Manas grows up, he will crush everything and everyone; this accursed Burut will take revenge on us for everything. He will kill everyone he meets and offer them to the gods as a sacrifice. If we fight this vile Burut, we will not be able to defeat him; we will not have the strength for him. If we suddenly fight, God forbid, we will bring disaster upon ourselves; we will be captured, he will cut off our heads like sheep, he will needlessly rip our bellies open, and he will drag us across the ground and hand us over to the dogs for tearing apart. Let us not risk for nothing; rather, let us give our wealth and flee to Khan Kary…
Under his breastbone, he felt a pang; the giant Jolo, who had never seen anything like it, trembled all over and told what had boiled up in his soul. Then all the Zaisans agreed with him and fled.
Brave leopard Manas towered like a huge mountain, whipping from side to side with the whip of Toruchaar beneath him, spurred his horse, and chased after Khan Jolo. With a short tail, with unflattened iron hooves, with copper legs, Toruchaar opened his mouth wide, and his whole chest was white with foam mixed with blood, and the stones from under his hooves scattered like sand; the huge, like a bowl, earth flew with a whistle over the head of the tiger-like, brave Manas, and, biting the reins, the horse galloped at full speed.
Sitting atop the excited and whirlwind Toruchaar, with his ears pinned back and his back straightened like a hare, the generous leopard Manas chased after the Kalmak Khan Jolo and made him circle the fork at the edge of the earth six times. When they reached the slope, the giant Jolo's horse Achbuudan raced like a gazelle; when they reached the ascent, the brave Manas's horse Toruchaar spread its wings; when they reached the turn, the steed Toruchaar flew like a deer with burning eyes. When Jolo realized that it would not be easy to escape from Manas, he skillfully turned his horse towards the foothills, where the yellowing steppe ends. But Manas, not leaving Jolo in peace, did not lag behind him and relentlessly pursued him across the vast yellowing steppe. Finally, they reached the endless sandy desert, which the Chinese call Din-Shah, where not a single blade of grass grows, where not a drop of water flows, where there are no hills or mounds. "You were a winged steed; what has happened to you? If this bloodsucker catches us, he will not spare me," Jolo thought in confusion, spurring Achbuudan and already almost resigned to his fate.
Each time, sweating and doubling his strength, Toruchaar pressed from behind on Achbuudan. Gaining speed, catching up to Jolo ahead, Manas began to shout at him:
– Ah, you scoundrel, slave Jolo, run-run – let’s see you, I will spill your blood like water. If you are brave, turn back, let’s fight each other. If you run away, I will shove your head into a pit, torture you; I will chase you all the way to Beijing, unleash all my rage on you, and cut off your head with my sword. You will pay dearly; you have killed too many people; I will take revenge on you for all of them. You have not left people in peace and have thereby angered me. I will attack China; I will compete with the emperor; I will tighten my belt and chase all the way to Beijing. Why did you gather an army of seven thousand strongmen and attack our land? The Chinese from Beijing have no grounds to attack our land, to take me captive. Do not run like a woman; I did not kill your seven fathers!
Seeing how the generous leopard Manas on his horse Toruchaar, like a cloud, raced over Achbuudan, the giant Jolo realized that he was ready to drink his blood, and before his eyes passed his whole life – then he turned towards the forest. When he had no other choice, Jolo began to cast spells and threw a bewitched stone into the river. Everything around was enveloped in fog; a black cloud hung over the mountain peak, and a cold wind blew from different sides. Immediately after that, the foothills were all covered with hail, the banks were flooded with rain, in an instant the sun was swept away by a snowstorm, and it became dark; strong streams rushed through the valleys, and summer heat turned into winter cold. The face of hero Manas was covered with a thick layer of ice, and he, upset that he had missed Jolo, returned back to Altai.
When he stepped back a little, he saw ahead the giant Kaman with crossed ears, who was driving ahead sixty stolen steeds and therefore, pleased with himself, hummed a song to himself from time to time. "As long as my glorious head is on my shoulders, how can I give away the steeds for plunder? I will try to fight this worthless slave." He had enough energy, a strong rage, a skilled spearman, he would destroy anyone he fought, with one voice this giant Kaman instilled terror, mowing down his opponents like green reeds, and swallowing anyone who crossed his path along with his horse.
And this giant Kaman, seeing Manas coming towards him, enraged, shouted loudly, and with a Chinese shout took his weapon at the ready, preparing to start a quarrel, spurred his rhinoceros, his face changed completely, his eyes blazed with fire, he shouted loudly that he would kill the worthless Burut, and aimed his spear at Manas. They rushed faster than a bullet, then grabbed their spears; when their spears broke, they fought with halberds; when that was not enough, they grabbed their swords, and finally, they fought with clubs. Threatening each other, the two heroes fought to the death in the deserted steppe, raging fiercely, they fought each other until the last drop of blood, struggled until the seventh sweat.
Gathering courage, Manas was helped by a good spirit: the thick scythe of giant Kaman, like a club, got into his hands, and he immediately tucked his hair under the girth. Then he spurred Toruchaar beneath him with all his might; the horse surged forward, throwing the healthy giant off the back of the gray-maned steed and carried him across the steppe. Having ridden a little, the young hero pulled out Bai Jakyp's sword from its sheath and swung it at the giant Kaman, who was dragging along the ground like a yak.
The headless body of giant Kaman writhed in convulsions for a long time, blood gushed from the severed throat like a fountain, and everything around turned red from it.
The Kyrgyz, overjoyed at being freed from the Kara-Kalmak and Manchurians, were ecstatic; they immediately brought a sacrifice to the patron, prayed to the Creator, forgot about their sorrows, stopped thinking about grievances, regained their dignity, straightened up, and began to celebrate.
Brave hero Manas found his camp, was chosen as the ruler, and began to govern the people to powerfully oppose the Kara-Kalmak.
The Tale of Manas. The Childhood of Manas