Tolubai the Horse Judge Fairy Tale

Long ago, in the land of the Kyrgyz, there lived a famous horse expert named Tolubai. He needed only one look at a foal to tell what kind of horse it would become. By its hooves, mane, eyes and breathing he could tell a future racer from a lazybones. People respectfully called him Tolubai-synchy, Tolubai the Judge.

One day a rich man named Zholoman sent for Tolubai. Zholoman owned thousands of horses, yet not one of them had ever won a race. "Tolubai, choose me the fastest foal in my herd. At the races of next year's great festival, my horse must win," said the rich man.

For three days Tolubai walked among the herd. He felt the foals' legs, looked at their teeth and watched them run. The rich man's riders kept showing him the most handsome and well-fed foals. But Tolubai only shook his head.

On the evening of the third day, Tolubai pointed to a thin, shaggy chestnut foal grazing alone at the very edge of the herd. "There is your racer," he said.

Zholoman was furious. "Are you making fun of me? That foal is nothing but bones! It can hardly stand!" Tolubai explained calmly, "Don't judge by looks. Its bones are as strong as iron, its chest is broad and its breath is deep. Its hooves are as hard as stone. And look into its eyes: there is fire in them. Raise it with care, and no horse will ever overtake it."

But the rich man did not believe him. "I have no use for such a scrawny creature," he said, and he gave the chestnut foal away to his poor herdsman, Asan. Asan gladly accepted the gift and led the foal home.

Asan named the foal Zhelayak and cared for it as if it were his own son. In the mornings he grazed it on the juiciest grass by the river, and in the evenings he gave it mare's milk to drink. In winter he kept it in a warm stable and covered it with a felt blanket. Asan's little son, Bakyt, sang songs to the foal, combed its mane and raced alongside it.

Little by little, the thin foal changed. Its coat began to shine, its muscles grew strong and its step became light. After three years Zhelayak had become a handsome, powerful horse.

The great festival arrived, and a horse race was announced. Hundreds of horses took part, among them Zholoman's finest racers. Asan put his son Bakyt on Zhelayak and sent him off to race.

At first Zhelayak was at the very back. Zholoman just smirked. But after the halfway point, Zhelayak flew like the wind and began overtaking the horses one by one. He reached the finish far ahead of all the rest. The crowd cheered with delight.

Zholoman asked whose horse it was. "It is the same thin chestnut foal you gave to Asan," people told him. The rich man bitterly regretted his choice and asked Tolubai to forgive him.

Tolubai said to him, "It is not enough to choose a racer. You must raise it with love. Asan cared for it with all his heart, and that is why it became a champion." And ever since, people say: "Looks can deceive. It takes a keen eye to see true worth."