I loved listening to your oral recounts about the amazing Kazakh eagle hunters! Next week we will be recording our narrations in class!
I loved listening to your oral recounts about the amazing Kazakh eagle hunters! Next week we will be recording our narrations in class!
“HOOO. HOOO.” The sound thrummed beneath my feathered head as I swooped in a long curve towards my prey. “HOOO. HOOO.” Those hooting noises that seemed laughable to humans to me had a bewitching quality, something that my wild and animal nature could not possibly resist. Those hooos said to me follow the fox, kill it and eat its lungs. The teenage fox looked up, bright chocolate orange against the blank white snow of the Altai Mountains. With a cry in unison with the honking sound from my master, I began to race in pursuit of the little corsac fox.
Deep in the Altai Mountains, a boy trudged through the icy plains. His name was Berek, his destination a point where Balipan, his loyal golden eagle, could see all. Alongside him walked his father, the snow around him breaking as the heavy winter boots came down. Berek had spent all night awake, fretting and biting his nails. If Balipan succeeded in catching a fox, Berek’s rite of passage would be complete. If not, he would be forced to release Balipan and train another eagle. Trying to stop it from trembling, he held out his hand, and off the eagle soared.
Somewhere in the Altai mountains a small figure emerged from the mist clambering across the jagged rocks ,it was a young boy and his name was Berek. Berek had a beautiful eagle called Ballapan. Ballapan had to catch a fox, if he succeeded Berek could keep him, if he did not Berek would have to let him go and train a new eagle. Berek reached the peak and spotted a fox sprinting across the icy plain. He released the eagle, it plummeted down then swooped in, the fox kept running but Ballapan was gaining, the eagle would be victorious.