Khon Yush. Way From the Ob
Шрифт:
„I'm sure you've already fulfilled the production plan for fur ahead of schedule! Your belt is full every day. We saw your photo on the board of honor!“
„Little more! Pa voi, look for ooh velam tail, mohty hun moshatlen! The beast also has brains, not easy to get it.“
„Well done! You are young, but have two children and you are the best worker already!“ Talkative women understood little from his answer.
Far away, on the other half of the Ob, a deer argish appeared. A large herd of deer was following the sledges. Yuhur hurried home.
„Look,“ Pukan anki pushed the godmother of Khatan evie, „the reindeer herders are returning.“
„I wonder if the Ob is all frozen? Yesterday, people said that the water around was open. The river is insidious, the current is fast, and the wide Ob freezes unevenly.“
„Yesterday I went to get water, at a stony roll over, and the current is still seething. How do they feel that the ice is frozen?“
„So they wander. They never sit in one place: they go where the deer is,“ the women were talking, sitting on the wood.
Onas slowly crossed the wide Ob, still covered with thin ice, approaching the Royal Road. In Pitlourkurt, only chimneys peeked out from under the soft snowdrifts. Villagers also noticed the reindeer herders, and sent the children to tie the ubiquitous dogs.
„Tie dogs, or they will disperse the herd! How do you catch a deer then?“ The children ran after the village dogs that ran away towards the reindeer herders. Village hunting huskies made such a noise that everyone, from the smallest to the oldest, came out into the street. Everyone wanted to see the reindeer herders getting to their winter camps. All Pitlourkurt residents had sons, parents or just relatives among them. Each family had a few deer: some had one or two, some even more. Everyone was waiting for good news.
Soon all growling and barking dogs were tied. Dumbfounded dogs tried to break their leashes, not hearing their owners shouting.
Reaching the wide Royal Road on the Ob, Onas stopped at the village.
„They got to the Royal Road, now it will be easier for them to go further!“
The villagers hugged with relatives, the old people took turns kissing the younger, greeting them.
„Grandmother,“ Tatya asked Levne, „why is the road called Royal?“
„I don't know, granddaughter. They say that in the old days the Russian tsar paved the way for our villages.“ He liked beautiful sables, that's why his merchants went on this road. Now they transport fish and furs without a stop.»
«Instead they bring sugar, flour, salt, and tobacco to our village,» Khutline joined the conversation.
«That's why we also need this road. One bad thing is that dogs are not used to passing carts. They bark day and night.»
«And now the road is called Royal because it's convenient for us. Walking along a well-paved road is easier: you won't get stuck in snowdrifts.»
«Let's go home, we are waiting for guests tomorrow,» said Levne to the girls,
People moved to their homes.
Summer 1941
In the month of vonzi, when the ringing snow streams are already tired of running, hurrying to the still ice-covered Ob, the river finally breathed. Shore ice became wider, and the river gained strength. With a powerful back it lifted a heavy cover of ice above. Once in the morning, with a deafening crack, the ice moved near the village itself. From the headwaters of the Ob, huge ice floes swayed on the water, tossing and turning, crawling onto each other, and crushed everything that comes in the way. The ice drift began.
The river started. Piled on top of each other, heavy dirty ice swept away islands and trees along the way. The high sandy shores collapsed, and the mighty cedars and thin birches, exposing their roots, rolled upside down to a stormy river – just like people. The weak died, the strong survived in this whirl. The ice, plunging into the dark deep waters, sharply emerged from the seething mess, rushing to the Gulf of Ob.
Having been exposed from the frozen cover, the high-water river As happily breathed in deeply, tossing up the foam and shards of the last ice floes glistening in the sun. Muddy water animatedly played with spring sunshine after a long winter hibernation and extended to the sandy shores. The men rushed to fishing, putting nets on the sors that had been freed from ice.
By the end of June, Anshem iki went afloat when she heard that upstream white fish had approached. Someone in a neighboring village has already caught a big nelma. Anshem iki arrived from fishing with his neighbor. Each of them was carrying a large fish in his fingers by the gills. The lucky fisherman gave his wife a catch and said:
«Two boats are coming from above. The authorities, apparently, will distribute sands among the fishermen.»
«Granddaughter,» said Levne to Tatya, «take Khatan evie and go to your neighbors, invite them to eat fresh fish. Tell them your grandfather brought the narkhul (frozen fish).»
The girls ran to invite the neighbors. The mistress of the house sat flaying a catch.
Soon the boat landed. The guests who arrived from the area explained something to people. A commotion began in the village. Throwing her fish on the grass, the woman, frightened, ran into the house. She cautiously toucher the leg of her husband, afraid to frighten him in a dream as he was having a short sleep after fishing:
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