“Akh tee somnoi ne zagovarivaisia” (“Don’t stand there talking to me.”)
“Bross!” (“Stop it!”)
“Pliun!” (“Spit!”)
I was called upon to imitate cats and dogs and sheep and pigeons and camels, and make-believe generally to an unlimited extent.
The lady told an amusing story of a banquet to which the Kirghiz had invited her husband and herself. It should be explained that the Russian for the head of an animal is golovo, and for the head of an expedition or band of workmen is glavny, the adjective derived from golovo, a head. At this banquet in the Kirghiz tent the engineer was put in the highest seat, and was told that the dinner was coming. Suddenly a Kirghiz appeared with a roast sheep’s head, and carried it to the Russian, saying:
“Please, eat!”
“What’s this?” asked the engineer. “The head for me; that won’t do at all. I don’t want the sheep’s head; you must cut me something more tasty.”
“No, please,” said the Kirghiz. “You are the head man, and you must eat the head.”
“That will never do,” said the Russian. But they besought him to honour their custom and permit the rest to eat, for until he had started on the head nobody else might begin.
All the engineer’s workmen were Kirghiz, for he was working in Kirghiz country, in a district as yet untouched by Russian colonisation. The wife and her babies turned off at a mountain track, and were taken to her husband’s camping-ground by a Kirghiz. We were loath to let the woman go, for she had given much gaiety to the road.