MORNING

    Then Chary-aga told a story about the Mergens-the name given to hunters by our people-and about Makhmud, the son of a widow. Makhmud made his way into the underground kingdom of the evil Dev. After slaying Dev and saving the beautiful Pen, he flew off upon the bird Sumrug... But where was he flying? Suddenly I realized that it wasn't Makhmud lying on the bird's emerald feathers, but me! It was I who was flying! And it was growing light. I opened my eyes and saw the sun overhead.
   The sheep had returned from their night pasturing at the watering place.
   Whoever started up the idea that sheep are brainless creatures was wrong. They're intelligent animals. Our flock numbers well near a thousand, but only two or three hundred can drink at one time. The entire rest of the flock stands patiently and waits until the others have drunk their fill. Once they've finished, the first to drink step aside and wait. Together they came to the watering place and together they leave to graze.
 Akbai came running up to me and placed a paw on my shoulder. This was a signal that Chary-aga was calling me.