Khon Yush. Way From the Ob. Зинаида Лонгортова
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forgive. It is hard to atone for the sin of killing, betrayal or the insult inflicted on Khanty spirits and gods. Earthly woman only carry the child and give birth, but it is Great Nye who gives the first breath, gives soul to a newborn. That's why Khanty women cannot rejoice at the child presented by the goddess Kaltashch for their entire lives.
For the poor upbringing, especially for the condemnation of other people, Kaltashch could punish a mother or a child with serious illnesses, which all women were so afraid of.
Therefore, Khanty women thank Heavenly Mother all their lives, and took care of their children. They brought them up as it is sung in her song – a message to people:
I give a beautiful daughter, beautiful Nye!
I give a strong son, beautiful Nye!
Good girls grow like brightest colors,
Good boys grow like rich grass.
Giving glorious daughter to a woman
Giving a good son to a woman
I, the Golden-Haired Priceless Nye
Thereby command,
Thereby bequeath.
May my covenants be fulfilled:
Ample tables with hot food.
Those striving for good luck set a table
Bringing bloody sacrifice to me!
Behind the sacred corner of Anshem iki's house, the mothers made fires on the iron sheet – a cleansing fire for women and children. They set up a low table with products – hot food and refreshments for Kaltashch Anki and patrimonial spirits. This is what Kaltashch Anki bequeathed to do in gratitude for the child.
Levne took out a small piece of otter fur and a birch growth – ush, conductors for cleansing the unkind spirits. All this was thoroughly burned in the fire, and sacred smoke rose above the children and guests.
Children and their mothers cheerfully jumped over the smoke purifying flesh and soul, saying:
«Shanaku, ponaku! Put some luck!
Shanaku, ponaku! Put some luck!
Shanaku, ponaku! Put some luck!»
Khutline picked up the newborn, jumped over the fire three times, and repeated after the children:
«Shanaku, ponaku!
Shanaku, ponaku!
Shanaku, ponaku!
Kaltashch Anki, give healthy legs and arms to my Altam evi!
Let her play while grandfather walks for prey!
Let her live a long life while her grandfather's checking fishing nets!
Let her sleep soundly while her grandmother does the needlework!»
«Let Sorni Nye, that walks among us invisibly, marks the name of my daughter in her writings – Khatan evie,» Levne was full of happiness, satisfied with the ritual.
Following the customs of children initiation, she didn't forget about gifts: threw a large beautiful shawl over Khutline's black hair. She bought it when she was young at the Obdorsk fair: noisy, cheerful, where the merchants exchanged furs and meat to the things Khanty women desired: cast iron boilers, needles, jewelry, and much more.
Today there were no merchants, and no cheerful fairs. The inhabitants of the taiga outback wondered where did they go. None of them could know that those wealthy merchants were either destroyed, or exiled to the most distant parts of the USSR.
And the holy city of the Khanty princes Taishins – Pulnavat Vosh, which was located at the exit of the Poluy River on the Ob, has already been renamed several times. But he was subject only to the Khanty gods, located just below the city – this is what from generation to generation the Khanty people respectfully passed on to their children. The Great Turam assigned his best sons to rule since the advent of land, when the sacred bird Gavia pulled this land from the sea, and called the fiery river cape Lunkh Avat. They protect the ancient settlement Pulnavat Eokh from misfortunes. The sacred cape of the gods is revered even by wayward Nenets and other small nations living off the coast of the Ob. The gods sitting there were so mighty that no woman could even watch in that direction, not to mention stepping on that sacred cape with her filthy feet. Coming to the winter fairy, and passing the Lunkh Avat cape by in order not to disturb the gods, men had to sacrifice a deer. Then the Pulnavat settlement was populated by the Russians and Zyryans, and was renamed to Obdorsk. This is how they wrote it down in Russian papers, without even asking the owners of the land. After that the Taishin clan left the town, and settled above the sacred cape of gods. Long live this family guarded by great gods. The town was later called Salekhard. But for Levne it was still the town of the Grand Prince, who was paid by her grandfather and great-grandfather. Passing through or by, each Khanty man had to bring a gift – toss a silver coin into the clear water of the Ob. Those who passed Lunkh Avat by and moved further, had to bring a bloody sacrifice.
Levne put four more needles with reindeer stitches for sewing and four red ties into the hands of Khutline – a shishkel for false braids for Altam anki, the third mother Khatan evie.
«Let my girl be a craftswoman, and in no way she knows what need is. When she grows up, a thin needle will cheerfully dance in her fingers, just like it dances in your hardworking hands, karkam Khutline. Now this is my daughter – Khatan evie, and your milk daughter – Altam evi! While you are waiting for your master, your little birds are always welcomed in my house. Today, five mothers love and cherish our girl on Khanty land – Pukan anki, Perna anki, Altam anki, and me, her mother. Kaltashch Anki herself will be protecting her from heaven».
Children were jumping and laughing, and then ate sweets.
Before Khutline entered her house after the initiation, she saw Kurtan iki at her doorstep. On the rights of a superior, being the foreman of the village, he entered her home, and took an old icon of the Virgin from the family hearth without hostess permission. Like all the inhabitants of the village, he knew that the family shrine was hidden in a chest along with the Khanty spirits since the red authorities destroyed the Russian church in Kushevat. Now the icon, transmitted from generation to generation through males in the family of the young shaman, was in the hands of Kurtan iki. Khutline knelt before him, reaching out for the defender of the family, but Kurtan iki kicked her out of his way with his foot. As he kicked her, the woman remained lying on the ground, howling sobbingly, but covering her mouth with her hands so that no one would hear. If anyone finds out that she hid an Orthodox icon in her house and worshiped it along with the goddess Kaltashch, everything would be over for her and her children.
Khutline didn't remember how long she lay at the threshold of her house, what she was thinking about, left without a husband and without a defender, but the next day, without a shadow of fatigue and despair, she went fishing with her eldest son.
«No one should feed my family,» the woman decided, «I am not a helpless child.»
She had a boat and oars left after her husband, and family gods sitting in the sacred chest. Wouldn't they give her strength and mind to rise to her feet? She had strong arms and 3 children.
«I am their mother. Their father entrusted me with the most precious thing – their children. Why should I torture my little birds and wait until they bring us fish home? I can't be full of someone else's piece,» she decided.
No one came from the village council to inquire about the icon.
«Kurtan iki did not take the icon to the authorities, which means that he stole the shrine from his cousin. What a sin,» Khutline was dumbfounded.
«How could this atrocity happen? In a different time, the elders of the thief's family would have chopped off the whole hand at the sacred fire. Now they are allowed to do anything,» the young woman was horrified.
Exactly one year later, on a bright summer night, when the sun crouched at sunset to have some rest and move along the sky again, and everyone in the village fell asleep, someone quietly opened the canopy of the house where Khashkurne and her husband Kushta iki lived. The guest