12
The Taming
Taijan’s father had once been an outstanding hunter. He hunted with hound and falcon, but most of all he loved to hunt with a golden eagle. The old man was utterly deaf and barely moved around for his progressive rheumatism, but on seeing the eaglet he suddenly livened up and his eyes flashed in a youthful way from under his puffed up eyelids.
“He’s not ours. We got him for the bai,” Taijan shouted in the old man’s ear, but his father understood him only when Taijan pointed first at the eaglet and than at Djantemir’s white yurt which seemed to be tinted red in the setting sun.
In the morning Taijan went to the bai, but Djantemir had not yet returned from his visit to Zulkarnai, and Shauken was in charge. After a look at the eaglet, she flared up.
“What kind of a sorry sc
