Free The White Ship by Chingiz Aitmatov Page B

stolen human children! Hold it! Catch it!" And they sent arrows flying at them. The Horned Mother Deer carried the children away from them, too, from those unbidden saviors. She ran faster than an arrow and only whispered, "Hold on to me tightly, my children, we are being chased."
    At last the Horned Mother Deer brought her children to Issyk-Kul. They stood on a high mountain and marveled. All around them were snowy mountain ranges, and below, amid mountains covered with green forests, stretched the lake, as far as the eye could see. Whitecapped waves rolled over the blue water, winds drove them from afar and drove them far away. It was impossible to tell where Issyk-Kul began and where it ended. The sun was rising on one side, and on the other it was still night. It was impossible to count the mountains around Issyk-Kul, or guess how many snowy mountains lay beyond them.
    "This is your new homeland," said the Horned Mother Deer. "You will live here, plow the land, catch fish, and breed cattle. Live here in peace for a thousand years. May your tribe last and increase. May your descendants remember the tongue you have brought with you, and may it be sweet for them to speak and sing in this tongue. Live as is proper for human beings. And I shall be with you and with your children's children for all time . . ."
    This was how the boy and the girl, the last of the Kirghiz tribe, found a new homeland on the banks of the blessed and eternal Issyk-Kul.
    Time flowed quickly. The boy became a strong man, and the girl, a grown woman. They married and lived as man and wife. And the Horned Mother Deer had not left Issyk-Kul; she lived in the surrounding woods.
    One day at dawn, a storm swept Issyk-Kul. It roared and crashed upon the banks. The woman went into labor, about to give birth to a child. She was in great pain. And the man was frightened. He ran up the mountainside and called loudly:
    "Where are you, Horned Mother Deer? Do you hear the noise of Issyk-Kul? Your daughter is giving birth. Come quickly, Horned Mother Deer, help us."
    And then he heard a distant tinkling, as of a caravan bell. It grew louder and louder. The Horned Mother Deer came running. Upon her horns she carried a cradle—a beshik. It was made of white birch, and a silver bell was fastened at its head. This bell still rings on the beshiks of Issyk-Kul babies. The mother rocks the cradle, and the silver bell tinkles, as though the Horned Mother Deer were running from afar, hurrying, bringing a birchwood cradle on her horns.
    As soon as the Horned Mother Deer appeared, the woman bore her child.
    "This cradle," said the Horned Mother Deer, "is for your firstborn. You shall have many children—seven sons and seven daughters."
    The mother and the father rejoiced. They named their firstborn Bugubai, in honor of the Horned Mother Deer. Bugubai grew up and took a beauty of the Kipchak tribe as his wife. And the clan of Bugu, of the Horned Mother Deer, began to multiply. The Bugan clan on Issyk-Kul increased in strength and numbers, and the Bugans revered the Horned Mother Deer. Over the entrance to their yurts, the Bugans embroidered the horns of a deer, so that all who approached would know that the yurt belonged to the Bugan clan. When Bugans repulsed invading enemies, when they competed in races, the cry "Bugu!" rang out, and always the Bugans were the winners. And in the forests around Issyk-Kul wandered white horned deer whose beauty was envied by the stars in heaven. They were the children of the Horned Mother Deer. No one touched them, everyone protected them. When a Bugan met a deer, he would dismount and yield the way to it. The beauty of a beloved girl was compared to the beauty of a white deer.
    So it was until the death of a certain very rich, very important Bugan. He had owned a thousand thousand sheep, a thousand thousand horses, and all the people around were his shepherds. His sons arranged a great funeral feast. They invited to the feast the most famous