A Tale of Generosity Without Limits. Part - 3

Nine days the khan sailed the waves, and on the tenth he docked at the shore of the kingdom of the sorrowful prince. He was received well in the palace. The prince, upon learning of his purpose, said sadly:
— You have traveled a very long way. Although I swore not to reveal my secret to anyone, I cannot refuse you, for otherwise you will not be able to fulfill the wish of your bride's father, and your marriage will be disrupted. So listen. This story began long ago when I was a very young jigit. I fell in love with a girl. My father agreed to our marriage, and I proposed to her. But just before the wedding, she slipped on flat ground, fell, and, having injured her head, died in her parent's arms. From the unexpected grief, I became unhinged.

And my illness worsened day by day. They tried everything to cure me, I drank all sorts of medicines — all in vain. My end was near when I learned that at the beginning of this sea lives a healer who cures all. He opens the doors of his house only once a year and treats all the sick and suffering for three days. And there has never been a case of anyone returning from him unhealed. So I decided to go to him. On the shore of the sea, there were countless people. They had been waiting for the healer's appearance for more than a day, living in yurts or simply under the open sky. On the fifth day, the gates of the healer's dwelling opened, and two people emerged — a gray-bearded old healer and a jigit.

They slowly walked to the shore, undressed, and began to wash themselves thoroughly for a long time, then swam in the sea, where they floated for a long time. Finally, coming out onto the shore, they put on new clothes and leisurely walked back. The jigit entered the courtyard, while the old man stayed at the gate, carefully surveying the crowd.

Then the jigit appeared. He was carrying a large chest in his hands. The two of them headed in our direction. We all stood up, bowed, and greeted the sage. The old man, responding to the greeting, gestured for us to sit down again and began to walk around the line from the right. He examined some patients carefully, then said something to the jigit, and the latter took the necessary medicine from the chest and gave it to the patient; he determined the illness of another by sight, and while the jigit was retrieving the medicine, he moved on to the next, checking the pulse or pulling down the eyelids, looking at their tongues.

He gave some medicine, advised others on how to recover better. Many he told that the medicinal herbs that would help them grow in their homeland, and sending them back, he provided recipes for making medicines from them and how to use them. Finally, he approached me. He examined me carefully, felt my head, said quietly: “Sit tight, I will come back later,” and continued his rounds until all the remedies, powders, and other medicines in the jigit's chest were used up. Then I was taken to the courtyard and placed in one of the rooms of the house. And I was left alone with the great healer.

Since then, I have been captivated by reading.

A Tale of Generosity, Which Has No Limits. Part - 2