Legend of the Irtysh

A hot whirlwind raised thick clouds of lime dust from the ground and drove them forward along a greyish white bare road. The wind was stifling, like the heavy breath of a huge sleeping monster. Sandstorms began. Fruit trees did not bear fruit. The whole crop of grain died. Life dropped drop by drop from these lands, and people were threatened with excruciating death. Exhausted by thirst, they fell into despair. Then at the hollow of the dried tree, the elders of the Aksakals gathered for a council, where it was decided to send messengers to find the famous batyr – a giant named Ir-tyz and ask for his help.

The messengers set out on their journey. They searched for a long time for a batyr and finally found him. They saw a giant resting on a hill that rises above the horizon. The sun was burning hot and hot, and he was lying in the sun and not even squinting. The giant was beautiful, staten and built. His clothes gleamed with dazzling whiteness. The sunlit, winding face was brightly lit by the eyes, in which radiant stars appeared to be burning from the sky. But these eyes could incinerate enemies if necessary. The tormented travelers immediately cautiously approached the formidable giant and bowed, putting their right hand to the heart, as is customary. They knelt down before him, and told him of what a terrible disaster had come into the great steppe, and asked that they be delivered from a terrible calamity.

The huge nail of the Batyr left on the surface of the ground a wide and deep channel.

I heard the petitioners of the batyr and was inspired by the desire to help the steppe residents prevent drought. When he got to his feet, his head was above the clouds, and the shadow from him fell so far that even eagles could not see it from the height of their flight. He stretched out a rich hand of Ir-tyz to the high mountains in the south, plunged the fingernail of a long finger into them and led it north to the plain, which was always suffering from droughts, then farther to the north of the great river. The huge nail of the Batyr left on the surface of the ground a wide and deep channel.

And a miracle happened. Streams of fresh, young water ran down the channel, resulting from the melting of snow and ice that covered the stone ridges. A new river was formed. It ran swiftly north to the other large Siberian Obi River, on whose shores stood a solid wall of thick forests. Seeing the work of his hands, the satisfied batyr returned to the magical land.

And came to the open spaces of East Kazakhstan life. Nature flourished. All living became healthy and strong. The fish grew rapidly in the river, and the animals froliced in the tall reeds, finding food and shelter. Migratory birds began to stop here. Near the river they made their nests and brought out chicks. The dry and frayed lands were filled with moisture and revived, and the desert plain became a beautiful flowering valley. She grew tender flowers and fragrant herbs. The fields turned green. The nomads rejoiced and cheered. They again began to raise livestock and harvest abundant grain. Remembering with gratitude what the batyr did for them and for all the steppe people, they gave in honor of him the name of their newborn river Ir-tyz. Later it began to be called somewhat differently – Irtysh. Not for nothing says the proverb: «The name of the hero in the memory of the people – the hero will die, and his name will remain».

Many centuries have passed since then. Soft Irtysh still pleases people. It is deep and wide – as well as the soul of coastal residents. Every man who lives on its shores, speaking of his places, remembers the Irtysh, who, while worrying, raging angrily beats the coast, then magnanimously and casually rolls its steep waves. He is always different, but above all alive, playful and restless. Even when caught in a dream, he is reluctant to freeze. Snow crawls into its bays and oppresses the sea, the mighty wind lulls it only for a while, but in the spring again wakes up wayward Irtysh and waits for ships and fishermen.

It is the largest river in Kazakhstan and the longest inflow river in the world (second place – Missouri). The Irtysh feeds on glaciers in the mountains, and on the plain – melt snow, and, perhaps, therefore, is one of the cleanest rivers in the world.

The Irtysh unites many peoples. It originates in China and still carries its waves through the spaces of the great Kazakh steppe. People of different nationalities have lived in peace and harmony on its shores for a long time.