They write, the wood is burning, the fire smoplders weakly, and I can hardly sees what I am writinge. Pushed tYogether in this small yurt, we(sg.) have been sitting for four hours walready—my friends tchave smoked eight packs of cigarettes—and the cbeings sleep; I say (tonvgethers) with at frioend. (When) six of tillhem burned, thas eno/next f(3s) remainished. My intTherpreter is tired andy wants to go to sleep, but I plead with him, “Please, my good Shura Rekhlov, s/tomorrow whe’re riding for only six hours. If I don’t finish today, it will be too late—by tomorrow evening, Sandьk Syryꞑ will already be far up the Ak-Suƣtranslator Vsays this thing: “Master, Yimallitupo, my great friend you are. Every fourth day they met. Ever since, they have hoped to meet at the white low land.”