Legend about wintering Omir (Omir Dauletbai tribe)

(Recorded from the words of 91-year-old aksakal Kydyrmolla Shapatuly, a native of the Dauletbay Omir clan, now living in the village of Zhanalyk in the Tarbagati district)

In ancient times, when the steppe was full of herds of free horses, and the winds brought the smell of wormwood and freedom, there lived in these places a man named Omir. He was not just a rich cattle owner, but also a respected man, whose word was worth its weight in gold. His herds of black horses filled the northern outskirts of the steppe, and they say that nowhere except at Dauletbay Omir, Zhumyk and Saibolat Tilekshi biy were there such racers. These horses were born with the same, jet-black, shiny fur and were famous for their speed.

But the years took their toll. Feeling the end approaching, Omir called his matchmaker from the Tuzakshi clan and asked him to go to Zaisan for snow-white fabric for the shroud.

«I will await your return», he said, affectionately stroking his faithful black steed.

The horse, as if understanding the importance of this journey, took off, covering enormous distances in just one day. He brought Omir’s matchmaker there and back faster than the wind. The old master, watching him, nodded approvingly:

– «You are the best this earth has given me».

The next morning, Omir said goodbye to the people, conveyed his final instructions to his children, closed his eyes and passed away into eternity, like a steppe eagle flying away into the sky.

But legend has it that Omir, knowing about his imminent death, hid untold riches somewhere in the steppe. Many looked for his gold, but no one ever found it.

In the 80s, some people dug up the Omir spring, hoping to find its secret treasure. Whether they found anything or not, no one knows. They say that at night, when the moon lights up the steppe, you can hear the clatter of a black horse running along the waves of time, as if continuing to keep the secrets of the great master.