It should be noted that the sage had a huge library. He gave me the keys to it and went off to the mountains to collect medicinal herbs and dig up healing roots. Unbeknownst to myself, I became engrossed in reading the books, and there was so much interesting and captivating content in them that I didn’t even notice how I forgot both my sorrow and the girl whom I seemed to love madly. The ringing in my ears disappeared, I felt my former strength returning to my body, and my mood lifted. When the sage returned, I began to understand not only his words and reasoning but even to laugh at his jokes. After a month had passed, the old man said:
— Now is the perfect time to head into the mountains. The medicinal herbs have reached maturity, and the wild fruits are ripe. We need to go up into the mountains and gather the necessary amount of herbs before winter sets in, so we can prepare medicines for various ailments in peace during the winter. Moreover, we will also dig for healing roots together, and most importantly, these walks and work are very beneficial for restoring your health.
We spent three days preparing for the journey. The old man packed all the supplies into a large bag, I slung it over my back, and after locking the door, we set off for the mountains. The old man walked beside me. He held his rifle in his hands because he wanted to stock up on the meat of wild birds and animals as well. He considered them medicinal as well. Thus, we walked for a long time among the stones and over the rocks, climbing higher and higher to the place where the old man had long ago dug a large spacious cave. There, herbs were hung up, and various game meats were drying, which the old man had managed to procure during his last visit. We lived in this cave, made excursions in different directions, gathered and dried herbs. The sage was a wonderful hunter. From time to time he would bring back deer or argali. I set traps for partridges, quails, and snowcocks. So, we were always well-fed and even dried enough meat for the future. One day we caught a young red yak. In three days, we managed to tame it and ride it. Thus, the summer and autumn passed in gathering herbs and hunting. As the cold weather approached, we decided to return. We loaded all our spoils onto the red yak, and carried the rest in bags ourselves. The road home is always easier. It was joyful for us to walk downhill. The sage told various stories, joked, I laughed, and, as they say, took to heart everything that the great healer said that was useful and instructive. I completely forgot about the girl and my illness, as if nothing like that had ever existed in my life.
During the long winter evenings, I spent my time reading books. If earlier I was occupied with adventure stories, various tales, and fairy tales, now I was captivated by informative books that described various methods of treating certain diseases, where and in what places to find medicinal herbs and roots, how diseases begin, and recipes against them — all this and many other useful pieces of information and knowledge were in the books that had now become essential to me. The sage encouraged my studies, explained and interpreted unclear passages, and in the meantime, prepared food. In the short winter days, while the sun shone, we prepared medicines together, packed them into various boxes, and arranged them on the shelves, each in its place. The red yak that we caught and tamed turned out to be very smart and quick. It became attached to me like a dog. In the morning, I would send it out to graze by the sea, and in the evening it would come home by itself.
By the end of spring, I had read and studied all the books that were in the house. The sage rejoiced at my successes, gave advice on making remedies, and in the evenings shared his experience and wisdom. Then we began to prepare for the traditional examination and treatment of the sick. The day came when we opened the gates and went out to the people. For three days, as usual, we visited all the suffering and sick, treating them and distributing medicines. On the last day, I wrote a letter home and handed it to a man who had come from our area. There was only one patient left, whom we brought into the yard. I immediately saw that something was wrong with his head. It was bobbing around like it was on a string, his legs could barely support his body, he was moaning from unbearable pain and calling death to him as a release from all his suffering.
— What is he sick with? — the sage asked, examining me.
— Something is happening with his brain, but I don’t know exactly what, — I replied.
— That’s right, — confirmed the sage. — The thing is that while he was sleeping soundly, a small centipede crawled into his nose and made its way to his brain. And now it is devouring him and growing itself. We need to find a way to get it out of there. For that, we need to open the patient’s skull. But you don’t interfere, or you might accidentally hinder me and ruin everything. I will do everything myself.
The healer rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands thoroughly for a long time. Then he laid the patient on a table in a separate room specially prepared for this and took the tools in his hands.
I couldn’t resist and, burning with curiosity, began to peek through the crack of the loosely closed door. It was then that I truly understood the skill and ability of my teacher. After putting the patient to sleep, he quickly removed the skin from his head along with the hair, easily separated the skull, exposing the brain, in which the wriggling centipede was visible. The healer prepared forceps to grasp the centipede, and I, unable to hold back, fearing the irreparable, entered the room and said:
— Oh, esteemed teacher, you might kill the person who has entrusted himself to you. The books say that you shouldn’t pull out the centipede because it will cling with all its legs to the brain and may damage it, causing the person to die. — The old man became angry, glared at me, and, throwing aside the forceps, said:
— Well then, you save him from death! — and left, slamming the door.
I prayed, rolled up my sleeves, washed my hands thoroughly, and taking a mirror, placed it in front of the centipede. Seeing its reflection, it slowly crawled toward it, probably thinking that it was another centipede. I slowly moved the mirror away, and it followed it. Thus, I led it out of the brain, and not a single leg got caught on it. Then I took the insect with the forceps and threw it away, rejoined the skull bones, and completed the operation.
Then I let the patient smell the remedy, which woke him up, gave him warm milk to drink, and laid him in bed.
I searched all the rooms for my teacher and couldn’t find him. I went out into the garden and, to my great sorrow, saw the teacher swinging from a rope... I immediately cut the rope, but it was too late. The old man had died. In his pocket, I found a scrap of paper where he had written in his small, neat handwriting: “The day when a person who surpasses me in knowledge heals a patient will be my last day. Today is exactly that day, and it is not worth my living any longer.”
I mourned deeply and regretted that I did not know such a secret of his. But there was nothing to be done; I buried him under the same tree where he had hanged himself, wrapping him in a shroud.
Here is what happened next. The patient gradually began to recover and over time started to help me with household chores, and then we began to prepare medicines together. He turned out to be a very capable person. He read and studied all the scientific books twice as fast as I did, acquiring extensive knowledge, which he soon demonstrated well.
The agreed time came when the sick and suffering gathered at our gates from all corners of the earth, and we went out to them, treating them, using both words and medicines, advice, and instructions. No one was left unattended. We healed everyone with our skills and knowledge. And I realized, seeing how my student worked, that he began to surpass me both in knowledge and skill.
And so we sent all the healed ones home, and we went into the mountains to that very cave to gather herbs, roots, and meat for the winter. In winter, we again engaged in our now usual work: preparing medicine for the summer.
And again, my student and I treated people for three days, and once more I was convinced of his excellent knowledge and skill. And I understood that he had become a great healer, and with a light heart, I left him in my place and, loading my swift red yak with supplies and medicines, set off for my homeland.
How my parents rejoiced at my return, and how the people rejoiced upon learning that I had become a knowledgeable healer! And I treated people, whoever turned to me, and my fame grew immensely. And so, in love, I married a beautiful girl. But not three months into our happy life, she fell ill with an unknown disease. She cannot move either her hand or her leg, has lost her speech, and lies motionless as a log. I exerted all my strength to somehow help her, all my knowledge, but there is no improvement in her illness. I tried everything, prepared all sorts of remedies, all in vain. I am beginning to lose hope. All my generosity is the ability to treat everyone free of charge. I have healed many. No one left me disappointed. Everyone benefited from my knowledge and medicines. But now I cannot help the only person dear to me and whom I love. And so for six days, I treated my wife, and on the seventh, I saddled the red yak and rode out to the people, telling them of my misfortune. I, the son of a king, who has never known need, who has never known sorrow, now suffer and grieve that I cannot yet overcome this illness...
That is my entire story. Tell it to your bride's father, and may your wish come true; I also want it to come true...
The prince revealed his secret and escorted the khan to the sea, and he sailed to his bride. Thus, the secret of the prince became known to the father of the khan's bride, and then to all of us. It is also known that the king fulfilled his promise and blessed the young couple. It also became known what the princess said to her fiancé, the khan, when they were traveling to his homeland.
— There is no limit to generosity, — said the princess. — There will always be someone to take. But there may come a day when you want to give, but you have no strength left, and your hands feel as if they are tightly bound... Here, I have given you my head. I have no other, not to mention my hands; I have entrusted myself to you along with my head.
That is what she, they say, told the khan. It is interesting, what did she mean by that?