There’s nothing to worry about, you have to sweat it out and wait, and since it gets dark quickly in the mountains, even before the sun sets, you take care of your overnight stay in advance. Usually, the place where you have to choose the most convenient parking lot in the Al region of the Caucasus Mountains near housing is called Khosha. This is a small bolfe or menfe, a flat space of 200-300 square meters. fathoms. In its center there is a low summer fence surrounding an area of 10-15 square meters. arsh. “Julun”, according to the Karachays, it carries a two-wheeled cart with food supplies and something similar to the owner’s hut. The area around the kosh is heavily manured by livestock and devoid of vegetation. Every day at sunset, herds of various livestock gather in the kosh. First of all, young lambs and calves arrive, filling the air with screams, which in the morning are separated from their milking queens for the peace of mind of the later ones. Having stopped at their usual location, 10 steps from the fence, the herd little by little begins to calm down and lie down on the ground. But a few minutes pass, suddenly urging the youth to jump to their feet and, screaming furiously, turn their gaze in the direction from where a herd of queens is galloping into the field. A minute later, the herds collide, muffle and there is such a chaos that it is very difficult to imagine: bleating in all possible tones, banging, pushing and mutual sniffing of mothers and lambs - unimaginable vanity! But, to my surprise, all this lasts for about 8-10 minutes. Then the thousand-headed mass calms down, and the noise suddenly ceases; Only the distant, purely dfteke voices of the kids, who for some reason have lost their wombs, are heard especially pitifully in the herd until dusk. Later, others peacefully and calmly approached the new herd, consisting of rams (Vlachs), and cattle. T% and others stop and then lie down on their permanent mfet without any inspection from the shepherds, who have long since gathered around the fire for a lively chat while food is being prepared on the fire. Smart dogs have long since taken up their positions, forming a guard station away from the livestock...
While all these observations are being made, the sun is dark, the clouds, gradually descending from the mountains to the lowlands, envelop the mountains in a thick fog, dousing you with dampness.
Another minute and the fog will turn into light rain... Brrr!! You are already cold, since the thermometer showed only 5° before sunset!...
Having made our orders for the morning, we wrap ourselves in a burka and, lulled by the monotonous native voice of one of the aborigines sitting long after midnight by the fire, we quickly fall asleep with the thought of tomorrow's poultry.
Early in the morning, before I have yet risen, I hear the howling of the wind and see the same barely pierced darkness from the fog. "Should we go or not? What a shame!... All our plans and plans have disappeared..." I think sadly and for a few more minutes I wrap myself from the cold in a life-saving cloak. But the bleating of a sheep and the fierce battle of two Vlachs, who made loud blows with their crooked foreheads, forced me to raise it. Kosh gradually wakes up. A few damp chips of birch were thrown onto the almost extinct fire; a strong wind quickly fanned the flames; an old hunched Tatar in a holey suit and poorly patched pants, stretching out his numb arms and legs to the fire, calling me to warm up. It's really cold!...
The mercury in the thermometer is at 0°! The damp rub permeates through all the forty clothes, which, behind the fur coat, are worn to a great extent.
— The weather is yaman (bad)! I say gloomily, sitting down in front of the fire.
- Nat! The weather will be yakshi (good)! There will be no wind... there will be no fog: work on your mountain guide (you will go to the mountain).... a Karachai who knows little Russian will comfort me in awe.
Ten to fifteen minutes pass, during which the whole cat strives to get to its feet. The mooing of cattle, the cries of the cows who had begun milking the sheep and weaning the lambs, and the barking of dogs - all this erupted into an unusual noise for us, just like last night. Soon the tea boiled, to which the hospitable hosts of the louse tried to fry and serve shalilyk, traditional in the Caucasus mountains. They began to decide: should we start climbing, or should we not wait in case of bad weather? But the natives, together with our guides, say that the fog should soon rise and clear from the air. Indeed, by 7 o'clock the sky began to clear and become cloudy, the thermometer now showed 6°, and the temperature began to weaken. Finally, some glf from behind the clouds the rays of the sun shone and filled our hearts with indescribable joy...