TORUAIGYR
This word has remained with us since ancient times. There lived an old man who mourned that at eighty years old he had no children. Then his second wife bore him a son. He named him Seksanbay. Hearing his son's voice, the old man passed away. The mother raised the son. When he turned eleven, a bay mare gave birth to a foal, which was named Toruaigyr. For three years, the boy took care of him lovingly. He loved the foal more than life itself. People praised the boy, calling him a good lad. They said that the foal would grow into an excellent racehorse.
In the village of Asylbay, there was a celebration. People came from the south and west for the holiday. Sixty horses participated in the races. The boy heard about this, came to his mother, and said: “Mother, a great wealthy man has organized a celebration. What if I go there with my foal and participate in the games?” The poor mother listened to her son's words with sadness and said: “My son, go. But the wealthy man is unlikely to welcome you hospitably, for you are a poor orphan. And be careful not to lose your Toruaigyr.” Saying this, the mother shed tears.
Seksanbay went to the celebration. And so he joined the participants in the race with his Toruaigyr. At first, Toruaigyr was at the back of the racers, but then he surged ahead.
The wealthy man distributed prizes, and the orphan was driven out of the village. In the morning, the boy went home but did not see his Toruaigyr. The wealthy man sold him to the southern shore.
Days and months passed. Toruaigyr longed away from home. One day he came to the shore of a lake and drank some water. A mare came to him. She called to him. But Toruaigyr did not look at her. At night, he swam across the lake and reached his native shore to his owner. And the village to which the horse returned was named Toruaigyr.
THE DEATH OF TORUAIGYR
Long ago, on the northern shore of Issyk-Kul, there lived an owner of a large herd of horses, among which the trotter Toruaigyr stood out. He became famous for his speed in races and competitions. There was no equal to him in the entire Issyk-Kul valley. The owner of the racehorse was envied by those who knew him. One day, envious people from the southern shore of Issyk-Kul stole Toruaigyr, blindfolding him. Finding himself in an unfamiliar place, the horse began to pound the ground with his hooves and neigh loudly. Suddenly, he heard the neighing of his native herd and plunged into the water at the call. The trotter had already swum to the northern shore, but his strength failed him, and he fell dead. Since then, the name of the horse became the name of the village that appeared at the place where the racehorse fell.
