A Yakout had failed in respect, or done some injury to his chaman. The devil, to avenge the latter, transformed himself into a cow; and, having mixed in the herd, contrived, while it was feeding by the side of a wood, to steal the finest heifers. In the evening when the herdsman returned, his enraged master ascribed all the loss to his negligence, and drove him from his house. Immediately the devil appeared in the dress of a herdsman, an agreement was made, and the next day he drove the cows to field. One, two days passed, and the Yakout saw nothing of his herd. In his distress he went with his wife, searched every where for his cows, and at last found them--but in what disorder! Upon his approach they began to skip and dance to the sound of the flute[81] of the perfidious herdsman. The master stormed and raved. “Hold there,” said the devil to him. “It well becomes thee indeed, who hast abused the confidence of the most respectable of chamans, to accuse me of stealing thy herd. May this serve thee as a lesson, and teach thee to give to every man that which belongs to him.” Upon this the herd and the herdsman disappeared, and the poor Yakout lost all his property. The place where this scene passed, has since that time been considered as the abode of infernal spirits. The incredulous scruple not to assert that the devil who stole the cows, was no other than the chaman himself; but such is the simplicity of the honest Yakouts, that they feel a repugnance at this suspicion, and treat it as horrible blasphemy. Remains of old tombs of the Yakouts were frequently pointed out to me in the woods. They were coffins clumsily made, and suspended on the branches of trees. I know not from what motive they have renounced this custom of exposing their dead in the open air, and at a distance from their habitations; but at present their mode of interment is similar to that of Christians.