“It happened somewhere right after the Civil War,” said one old Siberian in an interview with folklorist V. Zinoviev. - We started to arrange performances here. And while the rehearsal is in progress, outsiders are not allowed into the hall. And we had Sanka Timoshina there. Everyone said that she was a hammer, that is, a witch.
Well, one day she came into the hall during a rehearsal, and I drove her out. I drive away, but she does not agree to leave! And my character was cool. I grabbed her in my arms and threw her out of the club.
She shouts to me from the porch:
- Well, you recognize Kuzka's mother in a sarafan!
Well, I find out - so I find out. What does it matter to me ?! Never mind.
We are doing a rehearsal. And now I feel that my nose is itching. I scratch it with a little finger, and it itches again.
Emka Stepantseva, a girl as naughty as she laughs, looking at me:
- Danilka, your nose has become the size of a potato!
Promotional video:
Oops, really. I grabbed my nose, but it doesn't fit into my hand. Oops!.. Well, we're done with this rehearsal. I ran home. I went to bed and just couldn't sleep. It burns, just burns your nose with fire!
I called my older brother:
- Matvey, Matvey! I have something wrong with my nose.
He came up and looked:
- Oh, what is it with you? This is probably your witch's collar. Where are you and who were you arguing with today?
- Yes, - I answer, - Sanka Timoshin threw out of the club.
- Such an infection! cried Matvey. - It means she faked you. Let's go to Mikula Ignatyevich, our healer.
Here we come to him.
He began to trace my nose with his index finger and whisper. I don't know what he was whispering there. Once he whispered to me. After a little while, he whispered again. And then three times he blackened my nose … I don’t know how I fell asleep on the bench at his house. In the morning I woke up - that's where I, it turns out, at Mikula! First of all, I grab my nose with my hand: is it big or not? And he, I feel, is normal!.."
Here is another message recorded by the same V. Zinoviev in the Chita region.
“My fellow villager Nikanova fried potatoes in the winter hut,” says the elderly A. Ya. Osadchaya. - And then suddenly he comes into the hut, whom many of our people considered a sorcerer. Comes in and says:
- You feed me. Give me some potatoes.
And she did not give him potatoes because of greed. She even scolded him.
Then, having eaten all my fried potatoes, I went for berries. And he says after her:
- Well, go for the berries. God is with you. Go.
She only opened the door, only stepped over the threshold and stopped. She sees a little bird flying right in front of her. And he, the sorcerer, remained in the hut. And shouts at her back:
- You go! What is it suddenly paused?
Here she goes, she goes. She turned to the salt marsh … And she walked further, and walked, and walked, and this little bird in front of her flies and flies. I came. Doves around - oh, blue-blue! Nowhere to step!
She bent down to pick up the doves in a basket, lo and behold, there was no dove around at all. In a moment, everything disappeared somewhere. And this little bird flies and flies in front of her.
And so she followed the bird as if enchanted. Goes, goes, and the little bird in front flies, flies. Sunset. And only then did she seem to wake up. I looked around and realized that I had gone five kilometers from the village! And I returned home from there at night …"