The Rich One and The Poor One.
In the last century, two brothers lived in the world. The youngest one had no children, conducted a large trade and lived richly. The elder one lived in poverty, the only happiness for him were his two sons - Khasen and Khusain. In the summer, as soon as the berries began to ripen, the mother would take them to the rialto and sell them. The whole family lived on this. Once at noon, when everything in nature calms down, when the shadow becomes the shortest, when it is difficult to see whether the water is flowing or standing in the river because of the bright shine, Khasen and Khusain made their way along the coast through the bush. Suddenly, a blue bird of unseen beauty flew out of the grass in front of them. The guys didn’t have time to admire, suddenly it rose high and disappeared into the sky. Khasen and Khusain decided to look for her nest and quickly found it. In the nest layed eggs, white with blue veins. The children were hungry and delighted with the find. But the eggs were so small that Khasen and Khusain decided: "If we eat them, it will be of little use. We'd better take them to a rich guy." Without going home, they went straight to their rich man and asked him if he would buy blue bird’ eggs, white with blue veins.
— Where did you get them? - asked the rich man.
— In the field, in the grass - replied the boys.
The man took the eggs and to the surprise of Khasen and Khusain, gave them a hundred rubles and said:
— If you catch the bird itself, I will give you another two hundred rubles.
Why the rich man needed the blue bird, Khasen and Khusain did not know, but without hesitation, they took the snare and went to the place where they saw the bird. They quickly found a nest, set up a trap, and hid themselves in the bushes. “Soon a blue bird flew in, looked around, fluttered, sat in a nest - and got caught. No matter how sorry the guys were for the wonderful blue bird, they nevertheless took it to their rich man. Usually stingy, but this time he kept his word. Apparently, this bird was dear to him. The man gave Khasen and Khusain another two hundred rubles, sugar and clothes. The guys brought everything home. Their parents were very happy. But the happiness in the poor family did not last long.

***
— Well, wife, God sent us happiness! In the morning, when we wake up, we will have gold under our pillow.
***
— Uh-oh, brother, tell me what happened? In the morning, at the heads of our guys, we found a bag of gold each. Is it bad or good?
The merchant's eyes glittered with envy, but, knitting his brows and looking at the ground, he spoke loudly:
***
Khasen and Khusain lived for a long time with an old hunter, got used to forest life, learned to shoot well, and became experienced and courageous hunters themselves. By this time, the once poor old man was already the richest man in the neighborhood. When the guys grew up, gold stopped appearing under their pillows. One day they talked for a long time among themselves and remembered their whole past life.
— Do you know, Khusain, the old proverb? - Hassen said. — "A dog, wherever it wanders, will always return to where it found a bone with meat, and a person is always drawn to the places where he was born." Let's go, Khusain, look for your parents!
— The thoughts of my brother are my thoughts, where you are - there I am,” answered Khusain. — Let's go!
They went to the old man to inform him of their decision. The old hunter took pity on the young zhigits and said:
— I can give you a drove of cattle as a gift, but I see that you do not need it. I wish you a happy journey and success in your search for parents. - the old man gave Khasen and Khusain the two best horses, and, saying goodbye, they set off. They drove for a whole month and finally saw that the road had split in two.
— Our paths diverge, - Khasen said, — You go to the right, and I will go to the left path.
— So be it, - Husain replied. — Wherever we are, we’ll meet here on the way back!
At the split of the road, they stuck a knife into the ground.
— Each of us will be alive or dead, this knife will show, - they said. — If one of us dies, the half of the handle facing his way must burn.
Saying goodbye, Khasen and Khusain went in different directions. Let’s let Khusain go - he has his own way, now the story will be about Khasen.

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