And left me with only a song.
I pray for a draught of koumiss, love,
For dry and parched is my soul;
Thou wilt hearken and give me bliss, love,
And make my bleeding heart whole.
But should all my pleading tease thee,
And thine ear be deaf to my song,
The friends will help me to please thee,
And the wedding shall be ere long.
Without entering the yurt he returns to his tent. Soon an old woman comes to him and promises that she will take him to the bride if he will make her a present. He at once agrees, and they set out together. But they do not attain their object without having to overcome various obstacles. Another woman lays the fork which is used to lift the ring of the yurt to its place, across his path; to step over it would be unlucky, for the person who laid it down must take it away again. A gift overcomes this difficulty, but a second is met with very soon. A woman, apparently dead, lies on the path; but a second gift calls the dead to life again, and the way is clear to within a short distance of the yurt. But there stands a figure which snarls like a dog. Shall it be said that the dog snarled at the bridegroom? Never! A third gift closes the snarling mouth, and the much-tried youth reaches the yurt without further hindrances. Two women keep the door shut, but do not refuse to open it when a gift is offered; within, two others hold the curtain fast; on the bride’s couch lies her younger sister; but he succeeds in getting rid of them all; the yurt is almost empty; the old woman lays the bridegroom’s hands in those of the bride and leaves them. At last they are alone together.