WHO ARE THEJAPBAKS?

Once upon a time in the village of Durun there lived four brothers. The eldest was called Japbak, and next came Yapbak, then Mapbak, and the youngest of all was Topbak. All four were short and stocky, with heads round as melons: it was very hard to tell them apart if you didn't know them well. And it happened quite often that Japbak got called Yapbak, while Mapbak and Topbak were confused as well.

The old Turkmen women marveled at this phenomenon:

"Those four little brigands are alike as four peas in a pod! You can't tell them apart! Just try to figure out which one is which!"

But you could tell them apart if you had to, for they weren't really that much alike. For example, Japbak had a hooked nose and a broad, flat forehead, and his eyes sparkled merrily. Yapbak, on the other hand, had a prominent forehead and thick lips, but his eyes sparkled merrily, too. Mapbak had a round face, rosy cheeks, and the same sparkling eyes. The youngest brother, Topbak, was snub-nosed, and his round head was perched firmly atop his short neck. And his eyes sparkled just as merrily as those of his brothers.

It was the way their eyes sparkled that made people confuse the Japbaks. People said that even their own mother, Bolluk, mixed them up on occasion. If Mapbak fell down and smashed his nose, she would pick him up, kiss him, and say: "My poor little Topbak, what in the world have you done now?" Or she would bump into Japbak, who was always underfoot, and scold: "Stay out of my way, Yapbak, or you'll find yourself in more trouble than you know what to do with!"

Their father had died when the boys were still small, so they lived alone with their mother, and a hard life it was: not only did the neighboring khans and padishahs attack Turkmenistan, ravaging and plundering as they went, but the people also had to contend with their own bais and mullahs who fleeced the poor mercilessly. And the Japbaks' family was a poor one indeed. Bolluk said their father had died from poverty and hard work. She had to work day and night to feed the boys who were growing up like thistle in the steppe without a father's care or mother's supervision.

But then, they were the best of friends and thick as thieves. They did everything together: they ate meals together, played together, and even went to bed at the same time. They always stood up for each other and stuck together: whatever one said, the other three would stand by. They never left each other's sight. But since Japbak was the eldest, after all, the four of them were known throughout the village as the Japbaks.

Everybody in Durun loved them, and even the poorest of the villagers would share his last crust of bread with the boys. The Japbaks were past masters at thinking up all sorts of amusing pastimes. Peals of laughter were often heard near the Japbaks' tent, and a mop-headed listener would be slapping his knees in delight:

"What a fine bunch those Japbaks are!"

Only the rich bais' sons avoided those noisy crowds, for they did not associate with poor people.

...Many centuries have passed since then, and those once-mighty bais and mullahs and merchants are long forgotten, but even today, the Turkmen people remember the merry Japbaks and their mischievous pranks and jokes.

Read on and you will learn about a few of their adventures.

HOW JAPBAK SPAT ON HIS HANDS

This happened in spring before the sun was very hot, when the earth had only just turned green and birdsong filled the steppe. The weather was much too fine to just sit home, so the brothers decided to set out on a hunting trip.

Japbak suggested that they set snares for pheasants; Mapbak wanted to go hunting hazel-grouse; and Yapbak suggested that they put out lots of clever traps to catch hares.

"Let's go looking for birds' eggs instead!" said Topbak, the youngest.

They all imagined an enormous plate of tasty, piping hot fried eggs, and their mouths began to water. But they couldn't decide what to use to gather the eggs.

"We can put them in my shirt!" Japbak offered generously.

"But it's all full of holes!" objected Yapbak. "We'd be better off using mine."

"That's not a shirt, it's a tent frame," laughed Mapbak. "You can stick a fist through it at any point. Let's use my shirt!"

"We won't get anywhere trying to use our shirts," said Yapbak with a wave of his hand. "Only the back of yours is in one piece, and mine is nothing but a collar with threads hanging from it. We'd be better off putting the eggs in an old wineskin."

At first, they all liked the idea, but then Japbak objected:

"Wait a minute! That wineskin burst ages ago. It won't even hold water."

"But we're going to put eggs in it, not water," explained Mapbak.

"Hey, wait!" interrupted Yapbak. "We can put the eggs in Mama's gourd. It can hold water or milk just fine."

"That's a good idea," agreed Topbak. "And we can put the gourd inside the wineskin."

They decided to carry the wineskin by turns, two at a time, holding it by the two corners. Japbak and Yapbak took the first turn, and all was going well until they came to a bush, which Japbak decided to circumvent from the right. Naturally, Yapbak wanted to go to the left. The wineskin with the gourd got caught on the prickly bush. The brothers pulled it in opposite directions, but it was stuck fast.

"Stop it, or you'll tear it in two!" Mapbak and Topbak tried to convince them.

"I'm not going to budge an inch!" shouted Japbak.

"And neither am I!" Yapbak hissed through his teeth.

They argued and argued and finally decided that the weaker would have to give way... So they began to pull, each at his end. Mapbak grabbed Yapbak by the belt and Topbak took hold of Japbak's shoulders. They tugged as hard as they could, but neither side could gain the upper hand. So they straightened up for a moment, caught their breath, wiped the sweat from their brows, and gave a mighty tug! The strings snapped, and the Japbaks fell on each other. The wineskin and gourd went flying. They struck a stump and the gourd was smashed to smithereens.

The brothers got up moaning and rubbing their bruises. They were about to fly at one another once more, but when they saw their sweat- and dust-covered faces, they burst out laughing. Suddenly Topbak fell silent and frowned.

"What's the matter?" asked Mapbak. "Are you hurt?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"My head hurts from the thought that just popped into it."

Yapbak and Mapbak giggled, for they found it extremely amusing that Topbak could have any kind of thought at all.

But Japbak shouted at them:

"Be quiet and listen! Now tell us what kind of a thought you've had, Topbak. "

"I was thinking that we'd just broken the gourd, and that if Mama were to buy a cow, she wouldn't have anything to milk it into."

Japbak thumped his mirthful brothers' foreheads:

"Why were you laughing like idiots? He's got a point."

"Sure he does," said Yapbak, waving his hand in dismissal, "but by the time the Japbaks get a cow, hundreds of new gourds will ripen and be made into dippers and jugs. They will get broken, too, and the next crop will ripen!"

"That's also quite true," remarked Japbak, scratching the back of his head.

In the thorn bushes, the boys found only a few miniscule birds' eggs.

"That's too bad," sighed Japbak. "This isn't enough to make a good omelet. Why don't we leave them and let them hatch."

By midday, the Japbaks' lips were green from the juice of wild onions, and the wineskin was full of mushrooms. They were quite vexed that they hadn't thought of bringing a flint and tinder with them.

"Just think, right now we could be building a campfire to fry our mushrooms," said Yapbak wistfully. "And wouldn't that be a treat! But now we have to go home hungry!"

So the Japbaks set off for home. But on the way, they came across a dried-up well, of which there are many in the steppe. Mapbak leaned over the top and. shouted:

"O-o-o-o!

"And the well answered back with a dull echo: "O-o-o-o!" In the wake of the echo, a couple of jays flew out of the cool depths of the well. The boys could make out a nest in a depression of the wall. They tried to pry it loose with a stick and pull it to the top, but the nest fell, and the pitiful crying of the baby birds could be heard from the very bottom of the well. The Japbaks felt sorry for the little fledglings.

"We have to put the nest back," said Japbak, "or the baby birds will die."

But how to get down to the bottom of the well? Japbak took hold of a stump that was standing next to the well, and swang his legs over the side. Yapbak grabbed hold of his feet, Mapbak grabbed hold of Yapbak's, and Topbak took hold of Mapbak's, but still little Topbak's toes didn't touch bottom!

Now they were really in a predicament, hanging there in mid-air, and they had to find a way out before they could do anything to help the baby birds!

"Oh, my hands are getting numb!" moaned Topbak from the depths of the well. "Pull me up, Mapbak!"

But Mapbak's hands were numb, too.

"Yapbak, pull us up!" he cried.

But Yapbak couldn't do anything either, with Mapbak hanging on to his feet, while he was holding on to Japbak's for dear life.

"Let go of my feet!" shouted Japbak in anger. "You're holding on so tight I can't even breathe!"

"We can't!" his brothers cried from inside the well. "If we let go of you, we’ll all fall!"

"0. K., then, I'll pull you out," Japbak acquiesced. "But first I have to spit on my hands..."

So he let go of the stump to spit on his hands and they all went tumbling to the bottom of the well, falling one on top of the other. Topbak, who was the very bottom, got stuck up to his knees in the dry sand. The Japbaks floundered about at the bottom of the well for a long time. Finally, they grabbed Topbak by the arms and pulled him out of the sand. Then they all sat down on the cool ground and didn't even notice the poor little birds they had been determined to save.

"Why did you do such a stupid thing?" Topbak reproached Japbak. "It's because of you that we're all in this mess now!"

"It's not as if I pushed you all in and stayed at the top myself..." retorted Japbak, shrugging his shoulders. "I never thought my own brothers would pull down by the feet and make me fall into a well!"

There was no mistaking it--the Japbaks were really in a pickle this time. No matter how much they shouted for help, no one answered.

And that was strange, because there were a lot of kids out picking mushrooms and looking for birds' eggs in the steppe, just like the Japbaks. Finally, when someone did turn up, it was just their luck that it turned out to be four of rich bais' sons who had noticed a pair of jays flying above one and the same place in fright and alarm.

The bais' sons were old enemies of the Japbaks. One of them was fat and conceited: all he could do was show off the fine red Moroccan leather boots his father, Kelek-bai, had bought him. Another was the sole heir to the fortune of Allan the moneylender; he loved to eavesdrop and badmouth and couldn't stand the merry Japbaks. The third, a cowardly, jealous chap who was always drooling, was the son of the mullah Yalak-ishan. But the thin-lipped, hunchbacked son of Kolak the merchant, a malicious, beady-eyed lad who pranced about the village in his new red robe, hated the Japbaks most of all. These boys were so obnoxious no one would call them by name: instead, they were all given nicknames: Fatso, Sneak, Drooler, and Humpback.

These four had walked over to the well because they were convinced the jays were being frightened away by an eagle-owl. But when they looked down, what should they see but the four Japbaks floundering about.

Fatso, Sneak, Drooler and Humpback were overjoyed! They shouted down to the brothers:

"So you've finally gotten what you deserve, you bunch of smarty-pants! How do you like it down there in the well? Hey, Japbak, catch this! Take that, Mapbak!" they cried out and began to throw lumps of dried clay at the brothers.

Japbak shook his fist at the bais' sons, and Yapbak and Mapbak were about to start yelling at them, but Topbak whispered to them:

"Be quiet, I've thought of something!" And he began repeating in a stage whisper: "There they are, brothers. Look how pretty they are! And just think, they're all ours--all ours and no one else's!"

Sneak leaned over the well in curiosity and asked:

"What is it? What have you got?"

"A golden bird, that's what!" Topbak retorted proudly, pointing at the jays’ nest and sticking his tongue out at them.

"It's just a fledgling and nothing more!" Sneak replied uncertainly.

"Ha! A lot you know! Not everyone is lucky enough to see a golden bird, even if he lives to be a hundred!" Japbak said.

The rich bais' sons tried to pretend that they weren't the least bit interested in the golden bird and even walked away from the well, but not for long! They were dying to get their hands on that bird! In their fathers' tents, they heard talk only of gold, silver, and money, so how could they miss their one and chance to get a golden bird. So Fatso exchanged glances with Sneak, who whispered with Humpback, then asked the Japbaks:

"Will you share it with us if we pull you out of the well?"

"I guess we don't have any choice, do we?" Japbak agreed reluctantly.

"We'll get the bird, and each of you will get a feather," announced Humpback.

The brothers whispered among themselves for appearances' sake, then answered:

"0. K., we'll give you the bird, but you have to stick to our agreement: you can't breathe a word to anyone about where you got it. If you even so much as hint about it to your fathers, they'll take it from you, and you'll never see a feather of your golden bird."

So the bais' sons hurriedly swore not to say a word, then took off their belts, tied them together, and began to pull the Japbaks out of the well one by one.

"Topbak has the bird," the brothers said.

Finally Topbak climbed out of the well, having managed to shove the nest back into the hollow in the wall on his way.

"Well, where's the golden bird?" asked the bais' sons, trembling with greed.

Topbak balled up his fist and shoved it right under Fatso's nose, then spat out:

"Here it is! How do you like it?"

Japbak thumped Drooler on the forehead and said tenderly:

"Don't worry, the golden bird still hasn't finished turning into gold. There's still a lot of dross in it. So let it stay there and turn into pure gold."

"And after it has turned into gold, will you give it to us like you promised?" asked Drooler. His eyes were burning, and even more spit than usual was dribbling from his mouth.

"Sure, we made an agreement, didn't we? Only you have to keep your side of the bargain: not a word to anyone, or you'll never see the bird!"

And the Japbaks set off for home singing a merry song they made up on the spot:

THE GOOD SPIRIT

Once the Japbaks were passing Doiduk-eje's two tents. They had just walked by the festive white tent when they heard a strange sound coming from the black cooking tent. "Hr-r-r," it went.

The brothers exchanged glances. "Maybe it's a dog," Japbak suggested.

"No, dogs don't sound like that," replied Yapbak, scratching the crown of his head. "Maybe the old woman is sharpening her knife." But Mapbak shook his head and objected:

"No, it's not that kind of sound at all. Maybe it's Doiduk-eje snoring."

"She wouldn't have had time to fall asleep! We just saw her walking into the tent!" Topbak said with a laugh. "What if there's an evil spirit inside? Let's go have a look, what do you say?"

The Japbaks were never satisfied until they had found out what they wanted to. So they set off for the black tent.

Fat old Doiduk guessed immediately why the Japbaks had come, so she motioned for her servant to continue grinding.

The Japbaks had never seen a hand-mill in all their lives. The round, grayish millstone revolved and creaked: "Gr-r-r..." The brothers stepped back in surprise.

"Well, what are you afraid of?" asked Doiduk with a laugh.

"What in the world is that, Doiduk-eje?" asked Yapbak.

Doiduk had an old grudge against the Japbaks, for she believed they had stolen her favorite hen. True, no one had seen the brothers with the hen, and it had probably been dragged off by a jackal one night, but Doiduk-eje didn't like the boys and was always looking for a chance to do them a bad turn.

"It's called the good spirit," she said.

"And what's a good spirit?" asked Mapbak in disbelief.

"Whoever prays to the good spirit will grow rich."

"Did you get rich from praying to it?" asked Topbak.

"Of course! I say my prayers before it every day."

Japbak thought a bit and asked:

"Can anyone get rich that way?"

"Of course, but I won't let just anyone come near my good spirit. But since you don't have a father and your poor mother has to work so hard, I'll let you if you want. Go on over there, and maybe a couple of sheep will appear outside your tent! Go on, don't be afraid!"

The brothers exchanged glances and decided there was no harm in trying. So they got ready to say their prayers.

But when Japbak knelt down in front of the hand-mill, the rotating millstone struck him on the forehead. The same thing happened when the other brothers tried to pray to the good spirit.

"Well, have you said your prayers, then?" chortled Doiduk. "You should consider yourselves fortunate and count your blessings!"

But instead of counting his blessings, Japbak grabbed the beetle and began to pound the hand-mill.

"This is no good spirit!" he shouted. "It's an evil spirit if there ever was one!"

The millstone cracked; the handle flew off in one direction and the axis in another.

"Beat the evil spirit! Beat the forces of darkness!" shouted the Japbaks as they destroyed the hand-mill.

A minute later, there was nothing left but broken pieces. Doiduk ran from one brother to the other, trying to stay their hands.

"You worthless scamps!" shouted the fat old woman.

"The devil take you! You've brought an end to all my riches!"

"Don't be upset," Japbak comforted her. "We've just broken it into pieces and sown them in your tent. When they all start to grow, think how rich you'll be!"

Doiduk fell silent and gnashed her teeth, and the Japbaks politely said good-bye to their hostess and left. As they walked along, they whistled and sang a merry song:

HOW THE JAPBAKS ROASTED SHISH KEBABS

In the sooty old tent sat a woman. Her kind face was covered with wrinkles. It was hard to tell what kind of cloth her dress was made of; it was so covered with patches. Resting her chin on her hand and her elbows on her knees, she sat there, staring at some point in space.

It was Bolluk, the Japbaks' mother.

She was wondering and wondering what to feed the boys. There was nothing at all to eat. Once they had had a tiny plot of land, but Yalak-ishan had taken it away after her husband had died, and Kelek-bai had taken their well. Their skinny old cow had been taken away by Doiduk, and she had nothing else in the whole wide world but four hungry boys.

Topbak ran into the tent, interrupting his mother's dour thoughts.

"Look what I've got, Mother!"

His mother's tearful eyes did not make out at once what it was that the boy had in his hand.

"What have you got?"

Topbak held out a little gray bird:

"It's a hazel-grouse, Mama, a nice little hazel-grouse."

"Where did you get it?"

"We caught it in one of our snares. We made them out of horsehair."

The Japbaks ran in one after another, each holding a grayish bird.

So they began to discuss how to cook the birds. Japbak suggested that they make rice pilaff. No one objected, for they all loved hot, tasty rice pilaff!

But Bolluk, who knew that there wasn't a grain of rice in her home, said firmly:

"No children, hot rice pilaff won't taste good in this sweltering weather."

And they all agreed with her at once.

When Yapbak suggested that they fry their catch, they all supported him: they could already smell the wonderful aroma of frying game.

But Bolluk knew that there wasn't a drop of oil in the tent, so she said with a smile:

"You know that the fat of small birds is sticky. It would glue your beards and whiskers together..."

The Japbaks stroked their smooth, fresh cheeks and laughed.

"We should make sauce with these birds!" exclaimed Mapbak.

But Bolluk knew that you had to have flour to make sauce, so she objected this time as well:

"Sauce will give you the hiccups! We'd better make something else."

So they started to think, and finally Topbak jumped up and said:

"I know! Let's make shish kebabs!"

Bolluk-eje had nothing against this suggestion, so the Japbaks went outside, plucked the birds, and put them on the skewers.

Just then a beggar came riding up. He was not really like a beggar at all--all speckled and mottled. His sated little horse was skewbald. His robe was all different colors, and his full red beard was streaked with gray. Even his sly, beady eyes were different colors: one was gray with flecks of blue, and the other was brown with dark spots. His face was smooth and rosy-cheeked.

From afar, he began to stroke his sleek beard and whine:

"Give a poor beggar a little something to eat! Allah will grant all your wishes for your kindness."

Japbak hid his skewer behind his back and asked the well-fed beggar pointblank:

"Then what about Kelek-bai? He never gives a morsel to anyone, and Allah seems to treat him quite well."

The other Japbaks chimed in:

"That's true. Why is it that Kelek-bai never gives anything to the poor, and he lives better than anyone else in the village?"

The mottled beggar held out his hand as before, and continued his chant, not answering their question:

"Allah will multiply your blessings...

"Mapbak gestured to the pitiful furnishings of their tent and sighed:

"It's about time He multiplied them... Can't He see what sorry shape we're in down here? And what are you doing begging for a living? If you asked Allah, I'm sure He'd multiply your blessings. You might even become a rich man... Although I can see you're not doing too badly for yourself as it is."

"I don't need a lot, my little camels. A morsel here, a bite there, and I'm full by evening, and so is my horse..."

The beggar had already untied his sack, at the bottom of which the boys could see a little bit of flour.

"It seems you've stuck to us like glue, and we won't get rid of you until we give you something!" With these words, Japbak poured a cup of wheat into the sack. His mother had gathered the wheat grain by grain after the harvest had been taken in.

"That's a good beginning, my little camel..." said the beggar, not taking the sack away. "Now I could use some barley for my poor horse..."

"What a prickly one you are, ishan! You've stuck to us like a burr!" grumbled Yapbak and poured a cup of barley, also gathered grain by grain by his mother, into the sack.

But the beggar still didn't leave. He held his sack open before the younger brothers.

Mapbak sighed and dumped a tiny cup of sorghum into the sack.

"Now get out of here. That's all we've got. There's nothing more!"

But the beggar still didn't show any signs of leaving. Lavishing praise upon Mapbak, he held the sack out before Topbak.

"Obviously, there's no way to get rid of you!" sighed Topbak and poured a cup of water into the sack.

The beggar trembled with anger:

"What have you done, you brats! I gathered all this handful by handful, and now, it's only fit to be thrown away!"

"Why should you throw it away? It'll make a fine porridge!"

Japbak silently picked up the sack, scooped out a cupful of the mixture, and handed the sack to his brother. Yapbak also scooped out a cupful, and Mapbak did the same. But Topbak handed the sack back to the beggar without taking anything out. The brothers carefully poured the thin gruel into their pot.

The beggar stared at the Japbaks in amazement and said:

"Obviously, I'll get nothing from you!"

So he jumped on his horse and went his way.

The brothers continued roasting their shish kebabs. When they were ready, the boys called their mother and set about eating.

Topbak gobbled down his share in a flash and began to lick his fingers.

"Tell me, Mama," he asked. "Why is it your name means 'abundance' when we don't even have any bread?"

Bolluk looked at them in confusion and shrugged. Then she picked up the leather wineskin and tied a knot in it, saying:

"Take this wineskin, sons..."

"What should we do with it?" asked Topbak in surprise. "Go around begging like that mottled creature that came by just now?"

"Heaven forbid, my little camels! Never go begging, not ever! Go and find a field, which has been reaped, and gather the ears of wheat that have been left behind. Then we'll have a bit of bread in our tent."

"That's a good idea!" shouted the Japbaks joyfully. "We'll gather a whole wineskin-full, and then we'll have some bread! Hurrah!"

And they began to sing a merry song:

THE LOST WINESKIN

So the Japbaks set off to search for wheat-ears. The boys wandered gloomily from field to field, but they had been picked clean long ago. Other gleaners had obviously visited the fields before them.

The brothers walked and walked until they came upon a field from which the grain had not yet been harvested.

"Wow! Look at that!" shouted Yapbak. "Look at all the wheat!"

"Now our tent will be bursting with bread!" Mapbak shouted joyfully.

"Give me the wineskin!" said Topbak and started to pull off the ears of wheat.

Only Japbak didn't move from the spot. He watched his brothers robbing the field for a few minutes, then shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Stop that at once!"

His brothers turned around and looked at him.

"Are you Japbaks or not?" their elder brother spat out angrily. "What did Mama tell us to do? She said to gather the ears from a field that had already been harvested. And what are you doing?"

The brothers made dour faces, and their hands opened. The ears of wheat fell to the earth.

"You're right!" said Topbak with a sigh.

Japbak shook the ears of wheat his younger brothers had gathered onto the ground. Their eyes watched the ears fall with longing.

"Why is the world so unfair?" they thought. "There's enough wheat here for a million loaves of bread, but we couldn't scrape together a cupful of flour in our whole tent. Why is that?"

Finally Yapbak said:

"Listen, Japbak, after all, you're the eldest. You tell us why we don't have any land of our own."

"Mother told us why: after our father died, Yalak-ishan took our land from us."

Japbak threw the empty wineskin over his shoulder and set off. The brothers reluctantly dragged along after him. And Topbak, who was last of all, glanced back a time or two at the spot where they had left a pile of ripe wheat-ears bursting with grain. It would be hard to go home empty-handed...

Then they came upon a field from which the stooks had not yet been gathered in. Japbak slapped the wineskin against a stook.

"Now here's some grain for you. Gather all you want. This field has already been harvested."

So Yapbak and Mapbak started to pull the stook apart. Only Topbak stood to one side, gloomily chewing on a stem. Suddenly, he said quietly:

"Japbaks, leave that wheat alone!"

Mapbak and Yapbak started yelling at him:

"You can't give us orders! We only listen to our elder brother. Who do you think you are, anyway? You're the youngest of all."

"Mama told us to glean only the ears that have fallen to the ground," Topbak said quietly but firmly. "And you're pulling the stooks apart..."

The brothers stared guiltily at the ground, and Topbak sternly took the wineskin and emptied it. Then they put the stook back together.

After that, all four began gleaning the field energetically. It was much harder work than picking wheat from an unharvested field or taking stooks apart, but the Japbaks' sharp eyes found every single ear dropped by the reapers, and by noon their wineskin was so full, they had nowhere to put any more wheat. So Topbak climbed on top and started dancing to pack the wheat down. They gathered more grain, and it was Mapbak's turn to jump on the skin. They stuffed it even fuller, and Japbak had his turn. It was so full they could barely tie it shut. When Yapbak punched the side, it rang out merrily.

They drew lots to see who would carry the wineskin first, and Japbak won. But then they had to decide how far each of them would carry the skin. To determine how far they had to go, they decided to count how many steps it was back to their tent and then divide the total by four. So they left the wineskin bursting with grain by the irrigation ditch and set off. But when they got back, it was nowhere to be found! They looked everywhere, but they didn't see hide nor hair of it. They even looked inside the stooks, but it wasn’t there; it was as if the earth had swallowed the wineskin whole!

"Hey, wineskin, come on out! Where are you hiding?" shouted Yapbak.

"Mother is probably waiting for us at home to bring her a sackful of grain. How can we go home empty-handed?" Japbak asked gloomily.

"Did we work in vain then?" asked Mapbak. He was on the verge of bursting into tears.

So they searched the whole field again, but they couldn't find the wineskin anywhere. Suddenly they caught sight of someone sitting in the distance. When they drew closer, they saw that it was Kelek-bai! He was like a wineskin that was bursting at the seams himself, enormously fat, with a rich robe that reached all the way to the ground. The brothers greeted him politely.

Kelek-bai was sitting there chewing a plug of tobacco:

"Where are you headed for, boys? Should I wish you a pleasant trip?"

"As it turns out, the trip we just took hasn't been a very pleasant one at all," the eldest brother answered for them all.

"Why? What's the matter?"

"We lost our wineskin."

"And what kind of a wineskin was it?"

"It was stuffed full, bai-aga," he replied. "And it had two arms reaching up."

"It must have flown away like a big bird..."

"It's not a joking matter, bai-aga. If you've seen it, please tell us, and if not, don't bother us."

Kelek-bai was so incensed, he spat out his tobacco.

"So that's how it is, you wretched paupers! You've decided to do a little thieving. Is that it?"

Yapbak pressed his palm to his chest, looked straight into Kelek-bai's eyes, and said:

"It's sinful for you to say a thing like that, bai-aga. We Japbaks have our pride, you know. We'd sooner go to sleep on an empty stomach than covet that which is not ours. Our own mother would spit in our faces if we ever stole anything. We didn't take any of your wheat. We didn't touch what had been harvested or what had been stooked. We only gleaned the grains which had fallen to the ground, and now we've lost out wineskin..."

"I'm sitting on your accursed wineskin!" shouted Kelek-bai.

"What's that?" the Japbaks squealed joyfully. "Then let us have it!"

"Not on your life! How would you like a taste of this, you little scamps!"

The bai wanted to pummel the Japbaks with his huge fists, but he was afraid to get off the wineskin.

No matter how hard the brothers pleaded, he wouldn't give them their wheat-ears. He just grew more and more furious and cursed them foully. Finally, the Japbaks realized that if they could somehow make the bai rise from his seat, they could get their wineskin back. So they sang:

So they teased the bai until he became livid with rage and went after them. they scattered in all directions. When he chased after Topbak, Yapbak pinched him and began to sing his impudent song. Then, when he lit out after Topbak, Mapbak poked his behind and teased him, sticking out his tongue. The bai was soon exhausted from the chase. His face turned red and he puffed and panted. He started chasing Japbak, and Yapbak stuck out his foot to trip the old bai, who went flying face down into the dust. That was just what the Japbaks had been waiting for. The four of them fell on him and began to shout: "Pile up, pile up, let's make a pile up!" Kelek-bai puffed and kicked underneath them, like a wild boar. Then the brothers began to tickle him, Japbak his armpits, and Yapbak, the soles of his feet. Mapbak tickled his ribs, and Topbak sat on his legs to keep him from kicking. Kelek-bai laughed until he cried from all that tickling.

"Let me go!" screeched the bai. "I'm choking to death! You can have your stupid wineskin!"

"Now tell us, who's the thief?" Japbak asked him gently, continuing to tickle his armpits.

"I am!" cried Kelek-bai. "I'm the thief!"

With that, the Japbaks released their victim at once.

"Don't touch him!" said Japbak. "This man has just told the truth for the first time in his life."

"Well, come on and stand up, bai-aga," agreed Yapbak. "A man who tells truth is worthy of respect."

They gently helped Kelek-bai get up, and brushed off the dust and straws that had stuck to his robe. Kelek-bai was barely alive, and he could hardly speak, but he swore that as long as he lived, he would never say another word against the Japbaks. The boys said good-bye to him politely, bidding him farewell in the manner befitting a respected elder. They picked up their wineskin and set off for home. And the bai stood by the road watching them carry the heavy sack, and heard their merry song: