Ilyas

: A FAIRY-TALE
: Fables For Children, Stories For Children, Natural Science Stori

In the Government of Ufa there lived a Bashkir, Ilyas. His father had

left him no wealth. His father had died a year after he had got his son

married. At that time Ilyas had seven mares, two cows, and a score of

sheep; but Ilyas was a good master and began to increase his

possessions; he worked with his wife from morning until night, got up

earlier than anybody, and went to bed later, and grew richer from year

to year. Thus Ilyas passed thirty-five years at work, and came to have a

vast fortune.



Ilyas finally had two hundred head of horses, 150 head of cattle, and

twelve hundred sheep. Men herded Ilyas's herds and flocks, and women

milked the mares and cows, and made kumys, butter, and cheese. Ilyas had

plenty of everything, and in the district everybody envied him his life.

People said:



"Ilyas is a lucky fellow. He has plenty of everything,--he does not need

to die."



Good people made Ilyas's friendship and became his friends. And guests

came to him from a distance. He received them all, and fed them, and

gave them to drink. No matter who came, he received kumys, and tea, and

sherbet, and mutton. If guests came to see him, a sheep or two were

killed, and if many guests arrived, he had them kill a mare.



Ilyas had two sons and a daughter. He had got all of them married. When

Ilyas had been poor, his sons had worked with him and had herded the

horses and the cattle and the sheep; but when they grew rich, the sons

became spoiled, and one of them even began to drink. One of them, the

eldest, was killed in a fight, and the other, the younger, had a proud

wife, and did not obey his father, and his father had to give him a

separate maintenance.



Ilyas gave him a house and cattle, and his own wealth was diminished.

Soon after a plague fell on Ilyas's sheep, and many of them died. Then

there was a famine year, the hay crop was a failure, and in the winter

many head of cattle died. Then the Kirgizes drove off the best herd of

horses. And thus Ilyas's estate grew less, and he fell lower and lower,

and his strength began to wane.



When he was seventy years old, he began to sell off his furs, rugs,

saddles, and tents, and soon had to sell his last head of cattle, so

that he was left without anything. Before he knew it, all was gone, and

in his old age he had to go with his wife to live among strangers. All

that Ilyas had left of his fortune was what garments he had on his body,

a fur coat, a cap, and his morocco slippers and shoes, and his wife,

Sham-shemagi, who was now an old woman. The son to whom he had given the

property had left for a distant country, and his daughter had died. And

so there was nobody to help the old people.



Their neighbour, Muhamedshah, took pity on them. Muhamedshah was neither

rich nor poor, and he lived an even life, and was a good man. He

remembered Ilyas's hospitality, and so pitied him, and said to Ilyas:



"Come to live with me, Ilyas, and bring your wife with you! In the

summer work according to your strength in my truck-garden, and in the

winter feed the cattle, and let Sham-shemagi milk the mares and make

kumys. I will feed and clothe you and will let you have whatever you may

need."



Ilyas thanked his neighbour, and went to live with his wife as

Muhamedshah's labourers. At first it was hard for them, but soon they

got used to the work, and the old people worked according to their

strength.



It was profitable for the master to keep these people, for they had been

masters themselves and knew all the order and were not lazy, but worked

according to their strength; but it pained Muhamedshah to see the

well-to-do people brought down so low.



One day distant guests, match-makers, happened to call on Muhamedshah;

and the mulla, too, came. Muhamedshah ordered his men to catch a sheep

and kill it. Ilyas flayed the sheep and cooked it and sent it in to the

guests. They ate the mutton, drank tea, and then started to drink kumys.

The guests and the master were sitting on down cushions on the rugs,

drinking kumys out of bowls, and talking; but Ilyas got through with his

work and walked past the door. When Muhamedshah saw him, he said to a

guest:



"Did you see the old man who just went past the door?"



"I did," said the guest; "but what is there remarkable about him?"



"What is remarkable is that he used to be our richest man. Ilyas is his

name; maybe you have heard of him?"



"Of course I have," said the guest. "I have never seen him, but his fame

has gone far abroad."



"Now he has nothing left, and he lives with me as a labourer, and his

wife is with him,--she milks the cows."



The guest was surprised. He clicked with his tongue, shook his head, and

said:



"Evidently fortune flies around like a wheel: one it lifts up, another

it takes down. Well, does the old man pine?"



"Who knows? He lives quietly and peaceably, and works well."



Then the guest said:



"May I speak with him? I should like to ask him about his life."



"Of course you may," said the master, and he called out of the tent:

"Babay!" (This means "grandfather" in the Bashkia language.) "Come in

and drink some kumys, and bring your wife with you!"



Ilyas came in with his wife. He exchanged greetings with the guests and

with the master, said a prayer, and knelt down at the door; but his wife

went back of a curtain and sat down with the mistress.



A bowl of kumys was handed to Ilyas. Ilyas saluted the guests and the

master, made a bow, drank a little, and put down the bowl.



"Grandfather," the guest said to him, "I suppose it makes you feel bad

to look at us and think of your former life, considering what fortune

you had and how hard your life is now."



But Ilyas smiled and said:



"If I should tell you about my happiness and unhappiness, you would not

believe me,--you had better ask my wife. She is a woman, and what is in

her heart is on her tongue: she will tell you all the truth about this

matter."



And the guest spoke to her behind the curtain:



"Well, granny, tell us how you judge about your former happiness and

present sorrow."



And Sham-shemagi spoke from behind the curtain:



"I judge like this: My husband and I lived for fifty years trying to

find happiness, and we did not find it; but now it is the second year

that we have nothing left and that we live as labourers, and we have

found that happiness and need no other."



The guests were surprised and the master marvelled, and he even got up

to throw aside the curtain and to look at the old woman. But the old

woman was standing with folded hands, smiling and looking at her

husband, and the old man was smiling, too. The old woman said once

more:



"I am telling you the truth, without any jest: for half a century we

tried to find happiness, and so long as we were rich, we did not find

it; now nothing is left, and we are working out,--and we have come to

have such happiness that we wish for no other.".



"Wherein does your happiness lie?"



"In this: when we were rich, my husband and I did not have an hour's

rest: we had no time to talk together, to think of our souls, or to

pray. We had so many cares! Now guests called on us,--and there were the

cares about what to treat them to and what presents to make so that they

should not misjudge us. When the guests left, we had to look after the

labourers: they thought only of resting and having something good to

eat, but we cared only about having our property attended to,--and so

sinned. Now we were afraid that a wolf would kill a colt or a calf, and

now that thieves might drive off a herd. When we lay down to sleep, we

could not fall asleep, fearing lest the sheep might crush the lambs. We

would get up in the night and walk around; no sooner would we be quieted

than we would have a new care,--how to get fodder for the winter. And,

worse than that, there was not much agreement between my husband and me.

He would say that this had to be done so and so, and I would say

differently, and so we began to quarrel, and sin. Thus we lived from one

care to another, from one sin to another, and saw no happy life."



"Well, and now?"



"Now my husband and I get up, speak together peaceably, in agreement,

for we have nothing to quarrel about, nothing to worry about,--all the

care we have is to serve our master. We work according to our strength,

and we work willingly so that our master shall have no loss, but profit.

When we come back, dinner is ready, and supper, and kumys. If it is

cold, there are dung chips to make a fire with and a fur coat to warm

ourselves. For fifty years we looked for happiness, but only now have we

found it."



The guests laughed.



And Ilyas said:



"Do not laugh, brothers! This is not a joke, but a matter of human life.

My wife and I were foolish and wept because we had lost our fortune, but

now God has revealed the truth to us, and we reveal this to you, not for

our amusement but for your good."



And the mulla said:



"That was a wise speech, and Ilyas has told the precise truth,--it says

so, too, in Holy Writ."



And the guests stopped laughing and fell to musing.