Part one, Chapter 1 The covered wagon, harnessed by two oxen, moved slowly along the steppe. Behind the carriage, a saddled horse trotted. Over the scorched heat to the steppe hung a hot sun. Warmed by the heat, the oxen walked on, their heads drooping dejectedly, the midge swirled over their wet backs, the stems of the feather grass, dryisun, rustled dryly under the wheels. Oelun sat in the back of the cart. A drop of sweat rolled down her face, childishly rounded, and fell on the hem of her silk dressing gown - her wedding attire. Oelun's eyes were wide open, but she could not see the gray panicles of Darysun, nor the lonely cloud over the steppe, nor felt the heat-she was far away from where the mother and brothers, her children's games and amusements remained. On her seeing-off gathered many tribesmen - Olkhonuts. They sang songs, joked, competed in wit, everyone was happy, she too: she always loved holidays, and it was her holiday - in her honor, in honor of her fiancé composed songs and lush youths of good will. Her relatives were famous for their cheerful disposition, songs and beautiful girls. For many days, sometimes even from the shores of the unknown Baikal, sometimes from the Great Wall - the limit of the kingdom of the Chinese Altan Khan, - they came to them for the bride ...