sliding the grass, which the sheep were chewing, until the sun didn't raise high and dried grass humidity. The face got wet. Now he felt a little bit better.
He left the stock and passed over the place once more trying to find a river. But there was no water. Shamil knew what he did while sent him to this place. The boy climbed of steep hill below which ice had been slowly melting for decades.
He looked back. Deep inside his sheep were feeding. Now he understood that he couldn't get down. Unless head over heels as to break beck. He felt awfully giddy. And now he exactly knew what this was. There was a bad bitter taste in his mouth. There was a knot in his stomach. But there was no pain. His back ached. Strong nauseate. He squatted. He felt so bad that almost didn't feel a fear of height. He forgot that should pray to Allah and he will help.
«I will die», – he understood. «I will not go down. I'm going to die here».
A holly month of Ramadan it's a festive time when it was prohibited drinking and eating from sunrise till sunset. But Aslanbek couldn't even think that twelve hours of sawn are so differed of twenty-four hours one, and the twenty-four hours so differed of two-days sawn. He must stay for three days!
He tried to breath as more deep. Thus nauseate was not do strong. A little later the pain set him free. And even the nauseate passed off. Breathing helped him. Although he couldn't breathe freely, it seemed that the belly was glued to his back.
«Why did I got here, why?!!!»
He tapped the knife. «Thank you dada! You know everything, papa!» Aslanbek understood finally how to get down. He cut steps with knife. It lasted long. The ground wasn't soft as it was in the flat land. Here it was ice, stones and plant roots. The boy was quite exhausted. When it left four meters he dropped his knife. Anyway he was flat on his ass. Aslanbek began sliding down but badly touched the ground and twisted ankle. He was laying happy for a long time. His lips were totally dry and white. His foot was sick. The damned sheep were grazing with great pleasure. For the first time he understood that hated them. «It's right to cut their throat», – he thought somehow vindictively.
He was laying without moving. In such a manner his forces were off less. There was desperate poorness. The mountains began to dance. Passing somewhere away…
Aslanbek fell asleep. Or maybe lost conscience. When he woke up there was such anger in his spirit which ten-years-old guy hadn't ever knew. He imagined Shamil laying on his little tappet and his mother backing cakes. They had much water – in jars, cups, basin in which they washed hands…
Shamil really was laying on the tappet. But Patimat didn't bake cakes. She was praying. And crying. Shamil looked at her with askance. Finally, she broke down and raised… she caught a jar with water at the exit and fling out from the home. Shamil understood everything. He sprang his feet, caught her and flopped at the tappet. An iron jar rolled over the floor. The water splashed out.
– Stupid woman, – hissed Shamil in wife's face. – I use «Jehad hands» so as the boy understand what is «Jehad Heart»!!!
– He will die! – Patimat tried to break free of steady hands of her husband.
– He will not die. He has a knife.
Aslanbek was laying and looking at the dancing sky. Breathing – that was all he could do. He found by feeling the lost knife and his hand inadvertently fastened it. The day was declined. He had a strong backache, the mouth was like glued. He suffered of head rush and nauseate but oddly to say he didn't want to drink. All his feeling and wishes were like filtered… And on a rock above him a black-headed eagle. But Aslanbek looked at him coolly as like he didn't understand what eagle was waiting for… Anger also left. Like the last resort in his life. He hated well-fed sheep. They were only light figures on the back of bluing meadow. Aslanbek thought that soon would fall dew. And this raised hope in his spirit. It was getting dark.
Suddenly several luminous points caught his interest. First he thought that it was shaitan coming to take his heart but soon he heard silent faint sounds and understood that that were wolves. During this two days of hunger and thirst his ears and nose became so aggravated that if there was any water nearby he could find it by smell. There were only few wolves. If it had happened yesterday – he would die of only the fear. And today – nothing of the sort! Wolves were looking at him with hungry eyes and he was looking at them. Nothing more. Pulling somehow himself up, overcoming weakness, taking no count of luminous points of wolves' eyes Aslanbek started to collect dry branches on his four. The only question – how many did he need for the whole night? For certain many. In fear sheep were chopping round and bleating. They flocked up.
Aslanbek finished collecting when he couldn't see a yard in front of him. The eyes of wolves became closer. Sadly, there was no moon. He lighted a fire by touch. Wolves turned away. He took few burning branches and bypassed the stock for fear that wolves could take one sheep. But those turned farther away.
A strange thing – only few hours ago he had been lying face down and could only breath and now he felt such a force raise that it seemed he could run up and down from the near mountain quite easily with only force and sleight of foot and hand. On the mountain from which he hardly got down in the morning. The atmosphere was more congenial. The back was just barely aching. He desired so much to run up the hill to test the occurred forces and he narrowly restrained this impulse being afraid of leaving his sheep. Besides it was night. He couldn't see anything. It was no reason. He would try tomorrow. He bypassed the stock with burning branches one more time. Being on the rise of mental and physical forces Aslanbek felt he could sit up for all the night. Ten nights not getting a wink of sleep if it was required. And one more thing – he got a feeling of glory. He couldn't say from where it runs and why appeared. But he was here TOTALLY ALONE. He, sheep and wolves. He was happy.
Towards morning wolves went away. Bonfire was dying down. Aslanbek fell asleep.
In his sleep he was murmuring with his hardened lips:
– Drink…
He had a dream. There was water running from the mountain from which he had fallen yesterday. But he couldn't reach and touch it. His knife. One spirt, a sudden movement – and the fairy warm humidity poured down on his face.
He was drinking it spluttering of satisfaction. And suddenly the crystal stream changed to a red color. And Aslanbek understood that it was blood. Blood of a mutton whose neck he had cut. But he didn't stop drinking. Because he couldn't do this. He couldn't get off…
Aslanbek woke up horror-struck. The hand was fastening the knife.
And he understood what Shamil wanted when he had putted bazalay in the hands.
He felt bad again. Even worse than earlier. He didn't remember more of running up the hill. Rise of force was over. Aslanbek couldn't see his face but skin around the eyes got blackish color, the lines became hard. Sheep were calmly grazing nearby. Dew didn't drain yet. The boy stripped himself off to the naked and fell rolling on grass. And lick up this magic drops.
He got tired and simply kept lying naked looking at the sky.
Patimat was praying. Shamil said her:
– Well we will lose a couple of sheep instead a man will return home.
– Why don't you understand that he will not be able to do this?
– He will do this. He has no choice.
– Never. Never.
Patimat cried. She said:
– He will do everything you ask him. You say die – he will die. Ahmet will think about. Will ask – what for? But Aslanbek will die if you want it… Just in case he thinks you want his last?!
– Shut up!!! Or… Talaq!
Patimat threw herself down on knees.
If he said it two times more they would be divorced and she would be dishonored…
Only Aslanbek knew how he survived the third day. He couldn't sleep. Although a dream could save him. He clearly recognized that he would die soon. Such an insight happened not so often. But, as usual, unmistakably. There was no