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 pain except his back. But there was an awful lack of energy. He should put tremendous efforts to move his hand or leg. But he didn't let the knife out of his hands. He was looking at sheep and saw there only the vessel with saving liquid. He desired their blood. He was persistently imagining himself drinking this blood. He couldn't divest himself of this idea as he couldn't make desperate efforts. By noonday he saw nothing around but sheep. He didn't think that there he couldn't have enough force to kill a sheep. He knew he could do this. He would win in the last spirt for the life. But he continued laying and losing strength. He didn't have any soft feeling for sheep. He didn't pity them. But he knew: Shamil was waiting him to drink their blood. And it was quite enough. Aslanbek was ready to die but not to do that.

The sun was already setting down to the top of mountains in the west. Aslanbek recognized that if he didn't get on his legs now he would die till morning. He spent few minutes to rise up. He felt so giddy that could lose conscience. That would be the end. He came through this sickness. His first few steps were terrible. He was simply staying for a long time. There was no force to flap the whip. Luckily for him the sheep were grazing united and didn't disperse.

The more steps he did the easier it was to do. Sometime later he was able to drive the stock. Sheep were running together.

«They know we are going home», – thought the boy.

They had a distant trip. Aslanbek tried to rate his strength. Now back pain added blade-bone pain. He didn't know his heart was sore. There was absolutely overpowering stench coming from his mouth and skin. He was going with hunched back as he couldn't unbend to the full. His walking looked like old aged one.

He fell not far from aul. Near his favorite place on the hillside. He lost conscience.

Sheep were running on the well-known way alone. At once they were seen by everyone. Was made a hustle, fuss. Patimat run out of home. Shamil stepped out calmly and with dignity.

– Sheep returned alone! – Patimat cried. – Find our son!!!

Instead Shamil was counting sheep.

– All! – he said growing dark and fierce.

Patimat run farther. She found son on «his» place. She made an effort to raise him up. Neighbor women came to her aid and helped to bring the boy. The sheep were lapping down from drinking bowl, knocking and bleating.

Aslanbek was lying in the bed. Patimat tried to pour water into his mouth. But drops were running by his mouth. Shamil came from behind. He broke up bazalay from the belt. He looked it over. There were no blood marks on it. Only ground remains. He flipped it, spread with fingers.

– He will never be a soldier.

… When Aslanbek woke up it was morning again. First of all, he caught his knife. It was gone. Then he looked around. He was at home. Woke up. He was so dizzy of sickness but there was no back pain. He drank. Found his bazalay. And hanged it up on the belt.

… Relationship with father was screwed. But not in such a context which could be known by European. As was right and proper they were based on absolute subjection and respect by the youngest, i. e. Aslanbek, to the elder, i. e. Shamil. But Aslanbek remembered that father had taken everywhere Ahmet, his elder brother, when the last one was at his age. They went to hunting, to neighboring auls… And of what could they be silent for hours? But both understood each other without words. While speaking with Aslanbek father was like discharging duties and no more. Aslanbek felt this. Shamil didn't trust him. And didn't believe he would make good. Aslanbek was ready to die as to prove him the contrary. But he wasn't ready to subordinate for these reasons. Shamil thought that if you couldn't become a reflection of father's will you wouldn't be able to execute the will of Allah.

While Aslanbek was gasping for a drink it seemed he thought only about how to survive. But in fact somewhere deep in his unconscious the brain was working. And absolutely unexpected some things popped to his head when he recovered himself after that three days. That were adult ideas but not such of a ten-years-old boy.

He could die. He knew it exactly because he couldn't forget such a feeling of death which he felt unmistakably on the third day. What then?! Why somebody die being a child and others – being respected old people, wok stags? Maybe elder knew some secret how to survive? But he was sure they wouldn't give the secret away. Not for any price. Least of all to a kid. And if at last he asks wok stag Rashid? Aslanbek imagined that one laughing wisely in his beard but not answering anything…

One more thing. Ahmet had never been hungry and thirsty for three days. But the father trusts him. And Aslanbek – not. In his spirit woke up jealousy and anger but right then Aslanbek thought he should be proud of that testing. In no case of overpassing it, but because of it happened to him. Ahmet didn't have such a fear and pain. Thank you father! Anyhow he would try to prove himself. Worse than that. For sure he would climb that mountain. And would get down without knife.

He was thinking about all this sitting at his favorite place. All the aul got accustomed to his freak. The only his friend Salman understood him. It was a pity he didn't hear mountains moaning and breathing more clearly and heavily…

Salman suggested him to learn shooting. He said:

– It's time.

Aslanbek also felt that it was about time. But from where came such insight he didn't know. Shamil wasn't surprised when had heard his desire to give him a gun. There was almost no improvised weapon for which these mountains were well-known. A great part of it came up here from northern and southern neighbors. Only noble sword-blades were forged here. Aslanbek's bazalay was a local one. Shamil brought for son an old «Makarov» gun. He handed it over and said he wouldn't teach him shooting because Aslanbek was clever and would get it himself.

Now two friends – Aslanbek and Salman – spent time disassembling and assembling their weapons. It took some time before the boy recognized the existence and assignment of the weapon's safety lock.

One week later after he took a gun into the hands, mountains gave back an echo of the first shoots. In this echo the boy heard something that mountains were warning of. But he couldn't make sense of these words. Wok stag Rashid always said that their mountains were more open space than a flat land. One wrong word would reflect enmity and enmity – blood. For which you should pay with blood. And he told. Once a man had been lost in the mountains. He was mortally hungry. That's why he had stolen a chicken in the strange aul. He had eaten it and survived. But the offended man found him. He knew adat very well. He had taken a sheep instead of his chicken. Not to be in debt the other one had stolen a horse. A horse in mountains was like a man. A keeper of chicken and horse had come back and killed the offender. Then a family of the killed man had destroyed the whole family of the killer. Blood vengeance – kanly. Now they say kir. All the aul in which such a disaster happened, got up as this was one folk though distantly related. Two auls had gathered. Nobody had left alive…

Only two week passed and Aslanbek shoot from weapon in such a manner that it really seemed to be extension of his hand and mind. The boy felt some special magic which he didn't know earlier. The pointed gun was an imperative gesture. To throw stones – it was great. But shooting… All it takes is to hold a hand with gun outwards of a disliked person… one insensible motion of fingers – your willing and gesture became a death.

For sure Aslanbek didn't have enemies whose death he could desire. But the only gesture charmed him. As well as a steel weight in his fingers.

Aslanbek knew the meaning of most surah in Koran. But Salman passed him over. He learned Arabic. He assured it wasn't difficult. Avar was much more difficult. Prophet Mohammed told to read Koran only in Arabic. That's why Salman was reading it in the original. He often shared with the friend his ideas which visited him after they had been shooting long enough until smarting eyes and were sitting at Aslanbek's favorite hillside. During reasoning Aslanbek always heard mountain breath much better. It seemed any minute now he would distinguish words…

On a whim he said:

– Salman, one day you will be a mullah. No! Imamah! I don't know who. But you will be the Chief. And everybody will mind you.

Salman thought and said:

– I want only to know Allah. If it's necessary to be the Chief for this purpose, I will be the Chief. La-illahail-allah.

There was no tele receiver in their aul. Father and many other aksakals took it as Satan which cobweb make the mind obscure and dishonor religion. Aslanbek was jealous of Ahmet. Shamil had taken him to the neighbor aul. There was antenna and tele receiver. What would it take to tell about this afterwards! Although it was six of one and half a dozen of the other. Roughly a dozen time the same thing. Aslanbek hated him for conceitedness but was listening and couldn't tear away all the ten times. It seemed there was an entire world in television. And other people were there. Strange clothes. And countries. And big cities. Large road like a canon. Flush like a mirror. The one thing Aslanbek couldn't believe at all – there was a town in America, as said Ahmet, where was saklia as big as a mountain. Saklia stuck to mountain – that was understandable. But how could they stand separated?! Great Allah! What if that was true?! He wished to see it at least once in life. What a strange thing, he suddenly imagined he knew how this saklia was called… he remembered Ahmet didn't say this. And at the same time the word was on the tip of the tongue. Exactly like the words which mountains wanted to say him but he couldn't pin it down…

At that moment Aslanbek thought he would never see saklia like a mountain. In fact, nobody had seen who he knew. Even wok stag Rashid. But he knew everything. He knew Koran from memory as well as that their mountains would become plain one day…

The events that had happened after Aslanbek learned to shoot straight were misty, floaty and at once awfully. Misty because the boy didn't understand what was happening. However, something was going on. Once the aul community gathered. Everybody was troubled. A feeling which was in the air was associated somehow with Aslanbek's first memory in the life – how everybody had been waiting for Kurban Bayram.

Father went away. First Aslanbek thought he would return. As earlier he sometimes had been going away. Many days had passed. The face of his mother Patimat was often sad and wistful. Ahmet was darkling when looking at her. Now Aslanbek understood – they knew something he didn't know. He couldn't bring himself to ask about this.

One day mother run into the house and fell crying.

– What happened to father? – Aslanbek snapped.

– He had been taken away by mountains, – Patimat answered.

– Mom, Г m already big. What happened to father?

Then Ahmet went away. He should be seventeen soon. He was also devoured by mountains. Aslanbek was left the elder man in the family.

Only four years had passed but how much Aslanbek's life had changed. How he was changed! Now the most compulsive thoughts were about women. Sometimes he couldn't thing about something else. He painfully followed with his eyes every woman on the right side of thirty… Senior women were old bones. The sisters had married ad went away in other auls. Patimat became much more silent as she was with husband. The junior brother had grown up. He was already ten. Being senior Aslanbek never bullied him. He never humiliated his young dignity. He didn't force him to kill mutton. He didn't beat him. And he never tortured him with hunger and thirst. Ruslan minded him without doubt as befitted. Aslanbek tried to teach him to help mother in all things, as if he felt that exactly Ruslan should provide her a pillar support…