Aldar Kose and Shikbermes Shyghai Bai Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, there lived a wealthy man named Shykhbaibai, who was known for his stinginess and lived in a remote area. He had a well-kept herd of livestock but would never allow anyone to stay at his home. If he did let someone in, he wouldn't share any food. Whenever someone visited him, he would say, "Shykh - hey!" That's how people came to call him Shykhbaibai. Many people tried to taste his food but left empty-handed. When it came to trickery, Aladar was well-known for his cunning, with the saying that there was no one he couldn't deceive spreading across the land. People would say, "No matter how clever Aladar is, he will never be able to trick Shykhbaibai." This news eventually reached Aladar, who also heard of Shykhbaibai's reputation. Aladar swore, "If I can't outsmart Shykhbaibai, may my name be cursed!" and set out to find him. He traveled day and night and eventually arrived at Shykhbaibai's solitary house in the wilderness. "What is this miser up to?" he wondered, tying up his horse at a distance and sneaking up to peek through the window. Inside, Shykhbaibai was cutting up meat, while his wife was kneading dough, his concubine was stirring the pot, and his daughter was plucking feathers from a crane. "If I don’t get a taste of anything here, may my name be cursed!" he thought, and cheerfully exclaimed, "Good evening!" as he entered. They were quick to react; before Aladar could finish his greeting, they hid their food and pretended to be busy with their tasks. "Oh, you have indeed become quite crafty, haven’t you?" Aladar thought to himself. After exchanging pleasantries and shaking hands, he made himself comfortable in the main room. "Are you a trickster who has ruined many? You seem quite clever, but whether you're clever or not, you won’t be able to taste any of my food!" Shykhbaibai thought, although he didn’t say it out loud. "Where have you been, and where are you going? What news do you have?" Shykhbaibai asked Aladar. With a bright smile, Aladar replied: "I have seen many things. On the way here, I saw a giant yellow snake as thick as the meat you have. I struck it with a rock, and it fell like dough in your wife’s hands. If I lie, may my beard be plucked out, as easily as a crane's feathers!" After saying this, Shykhbaibai cursed Aladar's tongue. "May a curse fall on your tongue!" Shykhbaibai's wife exclaimed as she threw the dough aside. "May your jaw break!" the concubine said, tossing away the stick she was using. "May your stomach ache!" the daughter added, throwing away her crane. "Cook your food, my wife," Shykhbaibai said with a resigned tone. The wife began to cook, saying, "Let it cook for five months!" "I’ll sit and wait for ten months!" Aladar declared, taking off his boots and making himself comfortable in the main room. The pot boiled all night without being removed. Aladar sat there, wondering when the miser would go to bed. Eventually, unable to resist sleep, Shykhbaibai said, "Old woman, set up the bed." While the household was asleep, Aladar got up, fished out the meat from the pot, and replaced it with a rag. When Shykhbaibai’s wife woke up, Shykhbaibai whispered, "The dog is asleep. Hurry and serve our food; that dog has kept us from eating on time!" In the darkness, the wife removed the food. Shykhbaibai picked up a knife and exclaimed, "Here, my boy, here! This is your punishment!" He took a bite, but his teeth couldn't get through the food. He chewed and chewed, but it was no use. "What has happened to your meat? It’s all fat!" he complained to his wife. Eventually, realizing that Aladar had tricked him, he lay there hungry. In the morning, as Shykhbaibai prepared to leave, he told his wife, "Don’t let anyone see me; just send me some bread." The wife took the bread from the oven and secretly hid it in her husband's clothes. When Aladar saw this, he rushed out. "Hey, my friend! Will we meet again, or not? Let’s part as friends according to our customs," he said, as he hugged Shykhbaibai. The freshly baked bread burned Shykhbaibai's chest. "Alright, enough of that!" he said, squeezing tighter. "Hey, let that dog eat this! Here," he said, tossing the bread from his clothes. "Ah, my friend, I’d rather eat it than let a dog have it!" Aladar said, grabbing the bread. Shykhbaibai left for the field hungry again. The next day, as Shykhbaibai prepared to leave again, he had his wife fill a sack with yogurt and secretly tied it up. Just as he was ready to go, Aladar said, "My friend, I think I’ll stay until you arrive. Let me greet you properly," and pretended to hug him while squeezing the sack. The yogurt spilled all over Shykhbaibai, driving him mad. With no choice, Shykhbaibai gave the sack to Aladar and went away hungry once more. Unable to escape the trickster, Shykhbaibai decided to slaughter Kosen’s horse. However, Aladar got wind of this and rushed to the horse. At the horse's side, Shykhbaibai's horse was also there. The only difference was the white spot on Aladar's horse. "If there's harm to me, let it befall him," Aladar thought, smearing cow dung on his horse's white spot, and then marking Shykhbaibai's horse with chalk, making it look like a white horse. He then returned and went to sleep. Aladar realized that he had eaten the meat on the first day. Angered by this, he murmured, "Wait, you scoundrel!" The moment Aladar fell asleep, he went out and cut Aladar's horse. "This is your punishment!" he said, satisfied with what he had done, and went to bed. In the morning, Shykhbaibai, waking up, told Aladar, "This old mare seems to be dead. It must be your horse that burst." "Poor thing, why did you let your horse wander while you were busy cooking?" he laughed. Aladar replied, "What kind of horse? If it's the one with dung on it, it must be mine; if it's the one with chalk, it must be yours." Shykhbaibai realized he had been tricked and ran out. As he reached outside, he told his wife, "Hurry up and leave!" When he got outside, Aladar approached him, "My boot has ripped, and I need your help to fix it." Shykhbaibai didn’t want to help, but Aladar wouldn’t let go. Finally, Shykhbaibai relented and said, "Fine, take it, you rascal! Just go away, you infidel!" Aladar, laughing and teasing, remained. Once Shykhbaibai left, he ran to his wife, saying, "Hey, let’s dress up Bizbika!" "What for?" she asked, "Would I give my daughter to you?" "Otherwise, just listen to your own ears," he said, running out to shout after the distant Shykhbaibai, "Hey, Shykhbaibai! This wife of yours doesn’t want to give Bizbika!" "Hey, wife! Give us her up! Get rid of that infidel!" Shykhbaibai shouted back. "Did you hear that?" Aladar said to the woman standing beside him. "Is this old fool going mad? Has he gone crazy giving his daughter to a trickster?" the woman exclaimed in surprise. Aladar, not yielding to the woman’s words, packed up the girl’s belongings and mounted her on a horse. "This is how Aladar plays," he said, as he rode off to his land.