“That’s the thanks I get for feeding you! A real man would never dirty his hands touching that slimy thing. Throw it out this moment!”

Ashik took the frog and carried it to the lake.

“You saved my life,” the frog said to him at parting. “I should give you something in gratitude. But I have nothing, only this pebble. It’s a magic pebble. When you’re in difficulties and necd help, touch the ground with it and say: ‘Pebble, Pebble. .’ And it will do your bidding.”

After saying this, the frog spit out a small green pebble, hopped once, hopped once again, and vanished.

Ashik dropped the pebble in his pocket and went home.

Before he was half-way there, a horseman overtook him, galloping at full speed. He shouted something as he passed, but Ashik did not catch the words.

As Ashik approached the village he saw that something terrible must have happened: men were running about and shouting, and women were sobbing at the top of their voices.

The village aksakals—the oldest and most highly esteemed men with long beards—had gathered in front of the bei’s house. Facing them was the horseman who had overtaken \shik on the road, and he was speaking to them in a loud voice:

“The wickedness that Karakhan is planning now…”

Everybody knew Karakhan, the neighbouring khan. He was mean and envious, greedy and merciless. In his own khanate his very name struck terror in people’s hearts, and the threat: “Karakhan will get you!” made the naughtiest child behave himself at once.

“What does he want?” the aksakals asked the horseman.

“He wants to conquer all the people living in the mountains and in the valleys and seize everything they possess. To soften his heart, all the villages have sent messengers to him with gifts. But Karakhan said that he’d only speak to someone who came not on horseback, not riding a camel, not walking on his two feet, not coming along the road and not across the field. None of those messengers came back, and now it’s our turn to send someone.”

Everyone started talking excitedly at once, without arriving at anything. And then Ashik stepped forward and said:

“Send me.”

The long-bearded, grey-haired aksakals were angry at first, and then they laughed and laughed at the boy. But then the aksakal with the longest white beard said:

“Did you hear Karakhan’s conditions?”

“I did, aksakal,” replied Ashik. “I shall not ride a horse or a camel, I’ll ride a goat, and I’ll go along the curb where it’s neither the road nor the field.”

Everyone liked the boy’s clever idea. He was given the oldest goat there was to ride and the tallest camel they had as a gift to the khan. And he set off on his journey.

When Karakhan saw the boy riding an old goat, he screamed furiously:

“Impudent brat! How dare you come into my presence in this manner?”

Everyone froze from terror.

And Ashik replied very calmly:

“I did as you wished, Mighty Khan! I came to you not on a horse or a camel, and not on my two feet either, but I rode a goat, an animal that no one rides, and I rode along the curb where it’s neither road nor field.”

At this, Karakhan screamed more furiously still:

“Impudent brat, wasn’t there anyone bigger than you to send?”

“Mighty Khan, the biggest we have’in our village is this camel, you can speak to him if you wish.”

The khan grew angrier than ever.

“Impudent brat, wasn’t there anyone older than you in your village?”

“Mighty Khan,” Ashik said. “The oldest we have in our village is this goat here. You can speak to him if you wish.”

And then Karakhan said with a nasty grin:

“I’ll let you go and I shan’t touch your village, since you are so brave and quick-witted. But before the moon rises in the sky you must pay me a ransom of a hundred black pacers, a hundred fast camels, a hundred live sables, a hundred brocade robes, and a white yurt with a hundred walls and fully furnished. In the meantime you’ll be locked up in the dungeon. Hey, guards, take him there! If he doesn’t pay me this ransom, chop his head off at daybreak, and raze his village to the ground!”

The guards threw Ashik into the deepest dungeon, and the khan’s djigits, armed with sharp spears, were ordered to watch him. There was no hope of escape.

Ashik was chilled through in that dark, cold dungeon, and he felt so sorry for himself, a poor, defenseless orphan, that he wanted to cry, when suddenly he remembered the green pebble which the frog had given him. He fished it out of his pocket, twisted it in his hands for a minute, then knocked on the ground with it and said:

“Pebble, pebble, help me. Let the wicked Karakhan have his ransom—a hundred black pacers, a hundred fast camels, a hundred live sables, a hundred brocade robes, and a white yurt with a hundred walls and fully furnished.”

No sooner were the words spoken, than the pebble crumbled, and in that very spot a girl appeared, a beauty with a long, long braid, rosy cheeks and teeth gleaming like pearls.

“Do not worry, dear boy. Karakhan will get his ransom. Only beware of his anger. Take this comb, needle and mirror. They’ll help you when you’re in danger.”

The beautiful girl said this, smiled sweetly, and with a flip of her long, long braid, vanished.

The moon had not risen yet, when Karakhan’s servants came to tell him that a strange caravan was approaching his palace. There were a hundred black pacers, a hundred fast camels, a hundred live sables, a hundred djigits were carrying a hundred brocade robes, and next to the khan’s tall palace an even taller white yurt with a hundred walls and fully furnished had appeared overnight.

Karakhan rejoiced in such wealth, but did not let his joy show because he would now have to release the boy from prison. And that was something he hated doing. No one ever came out alive from his dungeons.

Still, a promise was a promise, and so he told his guard to release the prisoner. The guards let out the boy and brought him to the khan.

“I’ll let you go,” Karakhan told him. “But if you’d like to remain in my service I’ll appoint you my vizier.”

“No, Karakhan. I shall not serve you and your wickedness,” Ashik replied bravely. “Let me go, and do not raid my village if your word of a khan can be trusted.”

No one had ever dared speak like that to Karakhan. His eyes flashed red with anger.

“Very well,” he said. ‘I shall keep my word. You may go.

No sooner had Ashik left than Karakhan made a sign to his servants:

“Gallop after him and pierce that impudent brat with your spears.”

The dyjigits hastened to carry out the khan’s orders.

Very soon Ashik heard a thudding behind him, as if a whole herd of horses was galloping after him. He glanced back and saw the khan’s djigits with spears at the ready.

He guessed that Karakhan had sent them after him. The pursuers were almost on him. Ashik took out the comb, given him by that girl of extraordinary beauty, and threw it behind him. Instantly, a dense, impenetrable forest sprang up and barred the horsemen’s way. The djigits stopped. They did not know what to do, and decided to turn back. They fell at the khan’s feet and begged mercy.

“Mighty Khan, be merciful. We did not catch that impudent brat. An impenetrable forest barred our way.”

Karakhan had no mercy to spare his faithful djigits, and ordered their heads chopped off. Then he called his faithful guards and ordered them:

“Go after that impudent brat and catch him. When you do, pierce him with your spears.”

The guards flew to do the khan’s bidding.

Very soon Ashik heard a thudding behind him, as if several herds of horses were galloping along the road. He glanced back and saw the khan’s guards with spears at the ready. Again, the pursuers were almost on him. Then Ashik took the needle, given him by the girl of extraordinary beauty, and threw it on the ground right under the horses’ feet. And instantly a mountain, reaching to the clouds, rose across the road behind him. Ashik was out of reach now.

The horsemen stopped, wondering what to do, and were then obliged to turn back. They fell at the khan’s feet and begged mercy.

“Mighty Khan, have mercy on us. We did not catch that impudent brat. A huge mountain barred our way.”

Karakhan had no mercy to spare his faithful guards either, and had their heads chopped off.

In his towering rage he could not wait to lay his hands upon the impudent brat, and so decided to go in pursuit of him himself.

“Bring my tulpar,” he ordered his servants.

The splendid winged horse was brought, Karakhan leapt into the saddle and off he flew. He came to an impenetrable forest barring his way. Karakhan pulled the reins, the tulpar took a great leap and flew over the forest. And now a tall mountain barred Karakhan’s way. Again he pulled the reins, his tulpar took an even greater leap and flew over the mountain.

And now Karakhan was gaining rapidly on the boy. Ashik threw the mirror, given him by the girl of extraordinary beauty, behind him, and instantly a deep, wide lake was formed.

Again Karakhan thought his tulpar would be able to fly across it, and pulled the reins. The tulpar took a great leap, but it was not long enough, and he fell into the water. Karakhan was knocked out of the saddle, he floundered in the water, thrashing about, and trying to keep afloat. But he had never learnt to swim, and so he drowned.

The tulpar swam to the shore, Ashik mounted it and rode home to his village.

The whole village turned out to welcome him back, and thereafter everyone called him an aksakal for defeating the wicked khan.

Since then the honourable title of aksakal has been applied in Kirghizia not only to old men with white beards, but also to younger men esteemed by the people for their good deeds, bravery and cleverness.

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