that they don’t slander us,” Sargel ended the letter in this way. Karatai, suppressing his annoyance, got to the bottom of Sargel’s reasoning, sorting through words that looked like ant tracks. He read the letter at breakfast. Yesterday he was informed that the loss of livestock had begun at a remote state farm, and he was preparing to leave for the farm in the morning together with Turgat, who was the acting head of the agricultural department. The manager retired, and Karatai insisted on the bureau of the district committee to entrust the department to Turgat. While his wife was putting breakfast on the table, he read the letter again. After drinking hot tea with pastries, Karatai got up from the table. “You’ll spoil your stomach, eat like a human being,” the wife grumbled, as usual, although she knew that Karatai never ate heavily in the morning. “The car is waiting, I must go.” “What kind of letter do you have? The one you are reading so intently.” “I don’t know… A complaint against you!” “Who is it that doesn’t like me?” she asked, support- ing the joke. “A student… She writes that you treat her like a girl.” “Bagila, right?” “Would I really stay quiet? It’s just Sargel with all his nonsense.” “Okay, well, if you see felt-tip pens – buy it, the chil- dren are buzzing at my ears. Sometimes they sell those things at the local market.” Karatai promised to look and left the house. Cold western winds covered the road with dry, strong snow, which had been falling for the second day without ceasing. Turgat stood looking out at the snow, waiting for Karatai to leave the house. “With how it is no one will ever be able to get here,” Karatai remarked, glancing at the frequent crossings. “Yeah, there is practically no road. An all-terrain vehicle is waiting for us at the central estate. At night I spoke with the director, perhaps he cleared the road?” Turgat, wanting to show his efficiency, spoke deliberately and precisely “While one hundred and forty sheep fell at four shepherds. In some departments they’re still counting the death of their cattle.” “Who has the most losses?” “Some shepherd in Burgrieden. Remember last year he came to us? He is about fifty years old, such a big man. He has seven children.” “I remember, I remember,” Karatai said. “There was
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