Приложение 1
The Blueberry
A Nenets Fairy Tale
There once lived a girl named Lynzermia who was so small that she could easily hide behind a hummock or a shrub.
One day Lynzermia sat alone, sewing, when all of a sudden it grew dark in the chum.
“ Someone must have seated himself right on top of the smoke hole in the roof,” Lynzermia told herself.
She lifted her head, and what did she see but a squirrel.
“go away, squirrel, you’re standing in my light, I can’t sew when it’s so dark,” said Lynzermia.
But instead of doing as it was asked the squirrel began throwing cones at the girl.
Lynzermia was very angry.
“I’ll kill you, squirrel, if you don’t stop!” said she.
But the squirrel went on pelting her with cones, and Lynzermia took up a pole and pretended to strike the squirrel with it. The squirrel was very frightened and she begged Lynzermia to let it go, promising if only she did so to bring her some nice mole skins.
“Very well,” said Lynzermia, “only don’t forget to do as you say.”
Off ran the squirrel, and after a day and night had passed was back, bringing three tiny mole skins, the tiniest that ever were.
Lynzermia was very pleased. She took the skins, cut them up and made herself a coat, a hat and a pair of mittens out of them. Then she brought out some meat she had in the chum and put a piece of each of the sledges standing outside near it.
Some time passed, and Lynzermia saw two strangers coming toward the chum. They came inside, and Lynzermia rose, went outside and brought in a large piece of meat. A part of it she cooked and a part prepared for eating raw.
“You are a good housekeeper,” the men said. “Won’t you marry one of us?”
Lynzermia didn’t know them, and she was frightened. How could she marry someone who came from far away? Why, she would have to follow him and leave her native parts. She thought it all over and then she said:
“How will he I marry take me home with him? What will he carry me in?”
“In his mitten,” said the men.
“I’ll be squashed.”
“In his coat.”
“The fur will stick to me.”
“In his shoe.”
“I’ll be trampled on and killed.”
“In his hat.”
“I’ll choke there.”
“Where is one to put you, then?”
“In this iron box here.”
The men put Lynzermia a little iron box, locked it and set of homewards.
On and on they walked, and on the way Lynzermia slipped out of the box through the key hole and fell to the ground. But she caught hold of a little branch as she fell and hid under the leaves. There she sat on the branch, and, not knowing how she was to get back to her tent, cried and wept.
The men came home and unlocked the box. They looked, and lo! – there was no one there. They began searching for Lynzermia, they searched and they searched but they could not find her. And Lynzermia sat on the branch, and so hard did she cry that she became quite blue in the face after a time. She shrank, too, and became very, very tiny, even tinier than before. She did not know it but she had turned into a berry – a little round blueberry.
And if ever you go hunting for it, you won’t find the blueberry so easily. It hides behind leaves, for it fears that strangers might find it.
