In world folklore, “bad” places are called places where all sorts of unprecedented passions are often created. The stories about "bad places" are not outright fables. There are reports of hundreds, even thousands of witnesses who were present at the eerie tricks of some mysterious forces, manifesting themselves in strictly specific places - in the "bad" ones.
"In such places, evil spirits are found …" - declared our contemporaries Siberians to the folklorist V. Zinoviev, who, from their words, wrote down, in particular, stories about the antics of evil spirits in those places.
An elderly woman T. I. Gordeeva from the village of Kupros-Volsk, Perm region, says:
“I saw a miracle when I was in the third grade in the factory village of Maykor. This is nine kilometers from our village. And in our village there was a third grade, but my mother - a teacher herself - wanted to see her daughter educated, and in that school, from the third grade they studied German. And my father worked in Maykor as an accountant at a factory. Therefore, they sent me to study there.
We lived in an apartment with a Tatar family - then there were many Tatars working at the factory. My father and I went to Maykor for a whole week. And on Saturday they returned home. I was waiting for my father after school, and we walked home together.
But on that ill-fated day I decided not to wait for my father and after school I went home alone. The weather was good. A little snow poured down. It wasn't cold. I go and sing songs. She walked about four kilometers.
So Busyginskaya mountain appeared, and on it - the Tatar cemetery. The Tatars were not buried together with Christians, they were buried separately. No crosses were placed. If someone does not know, they will not even notice that this is a burial ground. But I knew - my father once said.
I got to the cemetery and got scared. I remembered how people said that at night on Busygin Mountain horses dance and a Tatar accordion plays. They said that the souls of the dead Tatars are turning into horses there.
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I was scared, but I didn't run back. She crossed herself and went downhill past the Tatar churchyard. I go and whisper: “Lord, have mercy! Lord have mercy! I went down the mountain and sighed with relief. I went further along the road.
And I should have looked back!
She looked back - and six or seven foals were running after me. With fright, I wandered into the snow, took a pencil case out of my bag and drew a circle around me with a pencil case.
The foals ran to me and began to run in a circle. We ran several times and galloped back to Busygin Mountain. Not a single foal kicked or bit me. And I stood in the center of the circle I had drawn in the snow, neither alive nor dead.
When the foals disappeared behind the mountain, I crossed myself, went out onto the road, shook the snow out of my boots and went slowly home. Soon the cart overtook me. A guy with a boy gave me a lift to the house.
My mother did not believe my story. And no one believed. In principle, there could not be any foals! They said that I saw all this in a dream. But I remember well that I did not sleep then. And how can you sleep in a snowdrift near the burial ground? And the pencil case was lost …
I still cannot understand this strange phenomenon. I know that miracles should not be in the world, but if they do happen, then what is there to do? You have to believe in their reality …"
From the book: "The World Inside Out". Alexey Priima