Upon returning to Eastern Kazakhstan, Sanzhar and his grandfather went to the mountainous Katon-Karagay District to get to the Rakhmanov Lake.
"This is an extraordinary place," grandfather began to tell. "Do you sense how fresh the mountain air is here? The aromas of cedar taiga needles and various meadow grasses. Breathe in with all your chest!"
"I am breathing anyway!" Sanzhar chuckled.
"Here there are majestic mountains, ancient cedars, colorful meadows, and noisy waterfalls shining in the sun," said grandfather proudly. But two and a half centuries ago, these places were wild, uninhabited and untouched by civilization, and thus very desirable for the soul of a hunter. At that time, not only squirrels were found here, there was an abundance of different game."
"Wolves, foxes and bears?" Sanzhar rejoiced. "And leopards?"
"And leopards too," grandfather smiled, "also sables, badgers, wolverines, lynxes and roe deer. And there were red deer - marals grazing there."
"Are these places also covered with legends?" asked the boy.
"How else?" Grandpa asked in surprise. "It can't be otherwise."
"Tell me the legend of Rakhmanov Lake!" Sanzhar asked as he froze in anticipation of an interesting story...
"Then listen!" grandfather began his narration...
At that time, an elderly hunter named Rakhman lived here. He was fond of hunting animals and birds. He was famous for never coming home empty-handed: if he couldn't hunt down an animal, he would get at least a grouse. And on a day that is not at all good for hunting, he would collect mushrooms – boletes, milk-caps, russulas and wild berries – raspberries, blueberries, lingonberries and sweet cherries.
One day he left the house, as always, early in the morning and set off to the surrounding forests to look for game. The hunter spent the whole day walking along forest trails, overcoming many taiga tricks: huge dead trees piled up by old age and untrodden paths, complete with bushes and grasses as tall as a man. He carefully studied the animal tracks. Then fortune has smiled upon the hunter. He managed to get on the trail of a young deer with its branched horns not yet ossified.
РRakhman tirelessly followed the tracks of the beast. Soon, from the depths of the taiga, two shining green eyes stared at the hunter. "Maral!" flashed through Rakhman's head. A cautious and curious deer peeked out of the thicket and only then noticed a man hiding in the bushes. And he ran so fast that the branches of trees that crossed his path crunched. Such a rare opportunity could not be missed. The hunter started shooting and hit the target. It all happened so fast. But even limping on one leg, the poor animal sought to escape from death with the last of its strength. "I will not let it get away from me!" thought exhausted Rakhman, and, anticipating the prey, began to chase the wounded maral along the bloody trail.
Trying to save itself, the poor animal brought the man to the picturesque valley of the Arasan River. Completely worn out, the hunter caught up with his prey near a large reservoir located at the bottom of a huge stone bowl. The lake was hidden high in the mountains. Its water was smooth, thick white steam rolled from it in clouds, with a lot of white bubbles.
Barely overcoming the pain, the exhausted maral hurried to the lake. He sank so deep into it that only the crown of his mighty horns could be seen in the fog above the water's surface. It was such a beautiful sight that the pursuer froze in amazement, spellbound. He thought he heard a gentle ringing coming from the lake... It lasted several minutes. But as soon as Rakhman came to his senses and tried to approach the maral, a miracle happened – the dying animal, as if healed by divine providence, rose easily and freely out of the water. How astonished was the hunter when he noticed the wounds on the brown body of the beast were no longer bleeding and were half-healed! The entire mighty body of the maral regained its flexibility and grace, and it quickly galloped away - faster and faster, until it faded out of sight.
Rakhman couldn't trust his eyes. He was greatly surprised by this mystery "What made the mortally wounded animal suddenly come to life right before my eyes, why did the strength return to the deer so quickly?" Tired out by the long pursuit, the hunter went to the water, scooped it up and washed his dusty face. The lake water seemed to him as soft as silk, gentle as a mother's hand, and warm as fresh milk. It was a good sign. Then the hunter decided to take a full swim in a mountain lake. He plunged into it and heated himself in the warm water, and after swimming he felt extremely vigorous. His strength was restored, his nerves quieted down, and his lungs filled with crystal-clear mountain air. Old Rakhman became fresh and more beautiful. He even forgot about his rheumatism. His youth, which had long left him, returned.
That day did not bring the hunter any prey, but he surprisingly found out about the wonderful power of the lake and came home filled with strength and joy.
When he returned, he told everybody about his find. Since then, thousands of people follow in the footsteps of the legendary hunter to experience the miraculous healing properties of the unique lake, named as the Rakhmanov Springs, in honor of the hunter.
"Cool!" Sanzhar drawled. "I am very happy for the maral! And for the hunter too. This story is like a fairy tale about living water."
"Nature is a fairy tale itself - for the soul and body" grandfather remarked meaningfully.
"Grandpa, you didn't even notice as you made up a proverb!" Sanzhar admired. "Are there any fish or tadpoles in Rakhmanov Lake?"
"No, there are no living creatures in the lake," grandfather answered. "This is due to the fact that its water contain a lot of exceptionally healing radon, which is why it gives revitalizing power to those immersed in it. But, according to legend, the lake is divided from the inside into two halves, between which exists an air space where a shaggy old man lives. Should you take a boat to the middle of the lake on a full moon, the same grandfather will drag you away to his abode."
"Are there any ghosts here?" the boy asked.
"They say there are," grandfather smiled, looked at his grandson and slyly narrowed his eyes. "Though, according to locals, they are mostly harmless and only act naughty sometimes..."
"Cool!" the boy cheered up noticeably.
"Also, there are hot springs here, where clouds of steam rise from the ground. These are thermal mineral waters. People from various places come here to improve their health."
"Thanks, Grandpa!" said Sanzhar. "Listening to you, It's like I've been in a fairy tale myself."
