by James Forsyth
In the old days there lived a landlord with his wife in his ancestral manor. The landlord was keen on hunting and kept purebred dogs and horses. He was a man of character and no one could carry out his directives and commands as he had hoped. Therefore he was usually so angry that all peasants and servants were afraid of him and lived in fear and trembling.
One day he went to the town on commercial matters, and in the evening he visited a private club to drink some vodka with his friends. There was a large gathering of men to play cards. The angry landlord was lucky and won an estate from a wealthy merchant.
Straight from the town he went to his new house in the countryside and stayed there for a while to arrange economic affairs. His wife at that time remained as a hostess in his patrimony. The gentleman lingered for a few weeks in his new place, and in the meantime some trouble had occurred in his old house.
There was an urgent need to tell the landlord what had happened, but no one dared to do that. However, there lived a simple-minded bloke, Stepan, in that village, and the villagers persuaded him to go to their master.
“Well, if you want, I will go!” replied Stepan.
About three days the poor man went on foot to the new estate. When he got there, hungry and tired, the angry landlord having seen him from afar, unleashed the dogs on him, just out of boredom. The dogs rushed to Stepan but he gave them some bread and they let him alone. Stepan came into the house, bowed to his master and said:
“Good morning, sir!”
“Hey, what do you want? What’s the word on my wife?”
“There is almost nothing new at home, just I broke a knife the other day.”
“What is it about the knife?”
“We were just going to skin your hound. But when we started, the blade of my knife broke into pieces!”
“Which hound? What are you babbling about, you, scoundrel?”
“It was that dog, with which you used to go hunting. When you had bought her from the previous owner, you gave three serfs for her!”
“What are you clapping about, wicked liar? So, you mean that my best hound died, but why?”
“She ate too much horseflesh, – meat of your stallion!”
“Damn it all! Oh no, has my stallion died?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What a misfortune, I’m awfully sorry! Why did he die?”
“He probably busted a gut.”
“But what was the matter, he was hard working or you drove him too hard?”
“No, sir, it did not go, he stood in the stall!”
“And what happened?”
“Then your farm agent made him carry water.”
“But why was water needed?”
“Well, when your pigsty caught fire, the farm agent made him carry water to put out the fire.”
“What on earth do you mean, my pigsty has burnt down?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Why has it burnt down?”
“You see, sir, it was standing near your cowshed, and likely it caught a fire from the cowshed.”
“That is my cowshed has also burnt down?”
“It burned down like a candle, sir!”
“But why did it catch fire?”
“I don’t know that for sure, sir, whether it caught fire on its own or the fire spread from your house.”
“Do you mean that my house has also burned down?”
“Your house burned out completely, sir, disappeared without a trace!”
“Has my homestead burned out too?”
“Everything has gone to blazes. All the cattle have died off. There is an open field there, – it’s nice to sow grain!”
The host squeezed his head with his hands and began to wail…
“But why did the house catch fire?” asked then the landlord.
“It took fire from a candle, sir.”
“And what did they light the candle for?”
“What for, sir? As always, sir, candles should be lit if someone died!”
“But who died there, bloody hell?”
“Holy God, let her easily live in the other world! Your wife has passed away.”
“What… Come again? My wife has died, but why?”
“She had got some disease and then passed away.”
“Oh, my God… What kind of disease?” asked the angry landlord.
“I don’t know, sir, I’m not a doctor!” replied Stepan…
The Cock-And-Bull Story
An Abkhazian folk tale
Abkhazians call themselves Apswa (plural Apswaa) … Christianity arrived two centuries before its official introduction under Justinian sixth century. Sunni Islam spread with Ottoman Turkish influence from around 1500. Traditional paganism has never entirely disappeared, making adherence to either major religion relatively superficial, although within Abkhazia most Abkhazians are nominally Christian.
Encyclopedia of Russian History, editor in chief James Millar
When I was a young man, I had many herds of horses. They grazed freely on the seashore. One day I walked along the beach to drive my herds home. Having come to the place, I looked about, searching for the horses, but did not find them. Then I stuck a staff into the ground, stood up on the staff, looked around again and saw my horses over the hills and far away. I rushed there like a bird on the wing, put them together and drove them home.
On the way home, a grey mare relaxed her course, stopped running and foaled. A newborn foal could not follow my herds, and I could not leave the kid to its fate. I mounted the mare, placed the foal over her neck, but she was not able to get up and carry us. Then I took off the foal, saddled it up, put the mare on its neck and hit the road on the foal’s back. We raced like the wind!
By the end of the day, my horses got tired and thirsty. I drove them down to the sea and was about to water my herds, but what in hell was that? The sea was covered with ice! I threw a large stone down, trying
