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The horsemen drew my attention when I was in the steppe. The little caravan was reared by a boy riding a light-brown curtailed three-year-old with its mane cut short. Once a company of three stopped by our yurts – a woman was riding a double-humped camel led by a man, a young camel meant for service, buyrshyn, was walking slowly next to the first camel carrying a large leather bottle with a kumis mixer sticking out of it. Laumullin came back to Ak-Mosque high and dry. Shortly speaking, my father never got the debt back. When the militia men tried to use force, they nearly got beaten. The Kokand rulers could break their will. But in spite of Laumullin’s toughness, the debtors turned out to be not liable to fear. Blood rushed to his swarthy pitted face when he was yelling, swallowing words. One could see false teeth glistening in his mouth, and his right leg was limp. He was about thirty five years old, but he looked as if he’d had a rough time. As the gossip had it, Laumullin was Chief of Staff of Uyezd Militia. What could my father do? He went to Ak-Mosque to Aralbaiev, his constant advisor, and came back very soon, accompanied with a Kazakh named Laumullin and two more militia men. The debtor would bring him as much wheat as he wanted, or else he’d press them till they were afraid to produce a sound. In good old days, before the war, when my father was a bolys, that is, a volost administrator, it would be different. Time had come for the debt to be paid, but noone gave back more than my father had given them, as if it was a kind of conspiration.
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He called him a bourgeois, beat him and took to Ak-Mosque, where they kept him in prison for two months. They accused Ishan Iskhak of making religious propaganda and cluttering minds of the poor with harmful fiction. Short before we arrived, they appeared in the aul on the holiday of act, just when people were reading namaz. Kerzhut and Zhorabek hated the bai and the mullah more than anyone in the world. The most fervent devotees of the Soviet government were a Russian called Kerzhut and a Kazakh called Zhorabek, who browbeat the local religious moneybags. In the beginning of 1918, the Soviet authority was set up in Karmakchi. The faithful respected the spirit of Ishan Maral, and his offsprings gained quite a profit from it. The ill asked him to heal them, he taught children at the medrese, and people from all the nearby auls came to the mosque near his house on religious holidays, or acts, bringing generous gifts to him. The one who wanted to become a faithful Muslim, ishan’s servant – a Murid – had, first of all, to go to Mukhamedzhan and to present his regards to him. The most honorable of the local Maral’s descendants one was Mukhamedzhan. People say some of them were really rich. Not all descendants of Maral lived in Karmakchi some of them had settled in the Turgai Uyezd in the Land of the Sand Tree – Kumdy-Agach, the others lived in the north, near Petropavlovsk – Kyzyl-Kare. Maral’s successor, Ishan Mukhamedzhan was believed to be the richest man in his clan, but he had only nine camels, about a hundred sheep, and a herd of horses. The dwellers of the aul, though very proud of being the ishan’s relatives, weren’t very rich.