Hunter Bagysh
(based on a Kyrgyz folk tale)
“Long, whether poor or rich,
Once upon a time, there lived on earth” -
Thus, tales usually begin.
About Bagysh, believing in the tale sacredly,
I will tell you in a new way.
...The riverbeds, fed by springs,
An impenetrable forest surrounded.
And the trees rubbed against each other with their trunks,
And from a spark, a fire would blaze.
The land was populated by birds and wild herds.
The sun shone over the mountains by day,
At night, the moon illuminated them.
And among unseen plants,
In the embrace of fairy beauties,
Warmed by the hearths of their settlements,
Lived in those years a hardworking people.
Accurately, sharp arrows struck
Birds and beasts, both summer and winter.
They say he had a beauty, unseen in the world,
And a wife.
And they had children growing strong,
A son and a daughter — with braids down to their feet.
Skilfully touching the reins,
Holding a trusty bow at the ready,
My Bagysh moved into the hunting grounds
Through the dense forest.
Two young men were equipped to help him —
After all, the way back with the catch is hard —
All three were seen off on the road
By the villagers — old and young.
The horsemen climbed higher and higher
On a path known only to them.
And they found themselves near a glade,
Which was considered a forest pasture.
Here they raised a commotion in the vicinity,
Waking the mysterious silence.
The eagles fluttered in fear —
Accurately, Bagysh shot arrows into them.
All the catch the young men rushed to collect
Shaking with joy.
And Bagysh, with a dream hidden until the time,
Kept looking at the slope where the golden eagle lived.
“This height is accessible only to birds...”
Before continuing on his distant journey,
He drank water from the spring
And lay down in the shade to rest.
Sweet drowsiness overcame him. Suddenly!..
He could not understand anything —
From claws, gripped in a dead hold,
Pain pierced him like a burn.
He looked around just in case...
Everything below — trees and bushes.
The mighty eagle had caught him!
It had ambushed and struck from above.
And in its claws, the poor fellow bled,
It suddenly became dark in his eyes.
The eagle lifted him to the nest,
And dropped him, like a dead one, to the bottom.
On the rock, in the nest, almost in despair,
Bagysh lived, ready for death.
And tormented by cruel hunger,
He took food from the chicks.
And, barely hearing the chirping of the birds,
He hid deeper at that very moment.
The eagle flew away. And the hunter himself
Divided the meat of the game among the three.
He cut the skins of the eaten animals
And dried them, making himself straps,
And tied their ends tightly,
And then they saved him...
“We waited for you, Bagysh, for a whole year.
How can we be, provider, without you?” —
Everyone in the native aul lamented,
Unconsolably crying, grieving.
The poor beautiful wife was scratched by grief
On her cheeks.
And echoing her tears sadly,
The whole area was full of tears.
Longing for his wife and children,
Bagysh could not deliver news to them.
How much longer could he live in this world?
He could not know that at all.
No matter how skillful he was,
No matter how many straps he tied —
He lowered his “rope” down —
High! You can’t descend by it...
“I was a hunter in the aul!
How can I help people now?”
And dreams of home carried him
Far away, to the native hearth.
“What should I do? — he tormented himself, sighing.
The heavens of freedom do not want...”
He stroked the feathers, caressing
The grown strong eaglets.
He gave them meat to peck at to their heart's content,
Sadly speaking to himself:
“And my chicks — there are also two of them —
Will not wait for me to come home.
If I had wings, I would spread them,
And joyfully fly to the land.
Where I left my dear children...
No wings! I am a prisoner on the rock!”
As if that’s what his soul wanted —
Two chicks, quite obedient,
Boldly flew out of the nest
And soared smoothly in the heights...
For a long time, the hunter nurtured them,
Fed them, cherished them, trained them,
Like children, preparing them for freedom,
And with daring hope, he grew stronger.
The hour came! With reliable straps
He easily tied their paws,
He grabbed the straps with his hands —
Whatever will be! — jumped from the nest.
The eagles with wide wings
Carried Bagysh down at that very moment.
He found himself in that glade,
Where once his fate caught up with him.
On the path, which they took
To hunt, he descended through the steep slope
And appeared in his native aul with the eagles...
No, we do not love our tales in vain.
A tale is a lie, but in the tale, there is a hint for us.
Bagysh the hunter was needed by the people,
For them, he overcame death.