The Silken Tassel的故事

The Silken Tassel的故事

    There was a girl called Torko-Chachak, which means "Silken Tassel." Her eyes were like wild cherries, her brows were like two rainbows. Into her braids she plaited seashells from distant lands, and on her hat there was a silken tassel, white as moonlight.
    One day the father of Silken Tassel fell ill, and her mother said to her:
    "Get up on the bay horse and hurry to the bank of the rushing river. There, in a tent made of birchbark, you will find the shaman Teldekpei. Ask him to come here and to cure your father."
    The girl leaped up on the bay horse with the white star on his forehead, took in her right hand the leather reins with silver rings and in her left, the lash with a finely carved bone handle. The bay horse galloped fast, the reins shook up and down, the harness tinkled merrily.
    Old Teldekpei sat at the threshold of his birchbark tent. With a sharp knife, he was carving a round cup out of a piece of birchwood. He heard the merry clattering of hooves, the ringing of the harness. He raised his eyes and saw the girl on the bay horse.
    She sat proudly in the high saddle, the silken tassel fluttered in the wind, the seashells sang in her thick braids.
    The knife dropped from the shaman's hand, the cup rolled into the fire.
    "Grandfather," said the girl. "My father is sick, come help us."
    "I will cure your father, Silken Tassel, if you will marry me." The shaman's eyebrows were like moss, his white beard, like a thorny shrub.
    Frightened, Silken Tassel pulled the reins and galloped off.
    "At dawn tomorrow I will come to you!" the shaman called after her.
    The girl came home, entered the tent and said: "Old Teldekpei will be here tomorrow at dawn."
    The stars had not yet melted in the sky, the people in the camp had not yet set the milk out to ferment, the meat in the kettles had not yet been cooked, and the fine white rugs were not yet spread upon the ground when there was a loud clattering of hooves.
    The oldest of the elders came out to welcome the mighty shaman Teldekpei.
    He sat atop a shaggy horse with a back as wide as a mountain yak's. Silently, looking at no one, he dismounted, and, greeting no one, he went into the tent. The old men brought in after him the eighty-pound robe in which he worked his magic and put it down on the white rug. They hung his tambourine upon a wooden peg and made a fire of fragrant juniper twigs under it.
    All day, from dawn to sunset, the shaman sat without lifting his eyelids, without moving, without uttering a word.
    Late at night Teldekpei stood up and pulled his red shaman's hat down to his eyebrows. Two owl feathers stood up in his hat like ears; red strips of cloth fluttered behind it like two wings. Large glass beads fell upon his face like hail. Groaning, he lifted from the rug his eighty-pound robe and put his hands into the stiff, hard sleeves. Along the sides of the robe hung frogs and snakes woven of magic grasses. Feathers of woodpeckers were stuck into its back.
    The Shaman took his tambourine from the peg and struck it with a wooden stick. A booming noise filled the tent, like a mountain storm in winter. The people stood about chilled with fear. The shaman danced and swayed and worked his magic, the bells rang, and the tambourine clashed and moaned and thundered. Then sudden silence fell. The tambourine moaned for the last time, and everything was still.
    Teldekpei sank onto the white rug, wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve, straightened his tangled beard with his fingers, took the heart of a goat from a tray, ate it, and said:
    "Drive out Silken Tassel. An evil spirit resides in her. While she is in the camp, her father will not get up from his illness. Misfortune will not leave this valley. Little children will fall asleep forever; their fathers and grandfathers will die in torment."
    The women of the camp fell down upon the ground in fear. The old men pressed their hands over their eyes with grief. The young men looked at Silken Tassel; twice they turned red, and twice they turned pale.
    "Put Silken Tassel into a wooden barrel," the shaman boomed. "Bind the barrel with nine iron hoops. Nail down the bottom with copper nails, and throw the barrel into the rushing river."
    He said this, mounted his shaggy horse, and rode off to his own white tent.
    "Hey!" he shouted to his slaves. "Go to the river! The water will bring down a large barrel. Catch it and bring it here, then run into the woods. If you hear weeping, do not tur

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