The Eighth Tribe, 1975 (2. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1975-04-01 / 4. szám
April, 1975 THE EIGHTH TRIBE Page Three THE DEATH OF ALMOS The main army of Arp ad moved slowly up the winding trail toward the pass of Verecke. Behind the horsemen came the endless wagon train of the united Magyar tribes. The wagons were heavily loaded, the progress was slow. Both sides of the trail were of virgin forest. Majestic spruce trees pierced into the sky. White birches, the sacred trees of the Magyars were there. Behind the long wagon train came the herds, consisting of thousands and thousands of horses, cattle and sheep. There was no food for them in the forests, so the Magyars had to hurry. They did not stop on the ridge, but descended until they reached the rolling grasslands of the foothills on the other side of the mountains. Here, on the River Ung, they made a camp. The next morning, old Almos offered a sacrifice to Isten, the Almighty God. Leading the unbroken white stallion three times around the fire, Almos spoke gently to the horse. “Fly to the heavenly meadows, announce the arrival of the Magyars in the land of Atilla, and ask God’s blessing over our people. As many drops of your blood as this sacred soil shall receive, so many centuries may the Magyars live on it in peace. Yeah, even longer. Till the mountains crumble to dust!” The white-haired Patriarch did not return to his tent after the sacrifice. Ha asked for a wooden plow with six snow-white oxen hitched to it. He handed his son, Arpad, a shoulder hag filled with pure wheat. The people wondered, and the leaders shook their heads. “Why does the Patriarch want to perform a servant’s work?” they asked. Old Almos ordered the chiefs to lead the oxen while he held the plow. He plowed furrow after furrow in the soft, black soil of the new homeland, until sweat dripped down his pale face. Arpad followed him, in full attire of the ruler, sowing the wheat from the shoulder bag into the soil. At the end of the last furrow Almos stopped. “We make eternal covenant with thee, Magyar soil”, the old man said. “We make this covenant and bind it with blood and sweat. We shall earn this country with our blood and keep it with our sweat. No matter how much blood and sweat this land shall desire from us, we shall never complain. We ask in exchange, only that our women be fertile, that they bring forth children who will gladly keep on giving their blood and their sweat for this land, after we are gone!” As dawn came, Turul’s son, Almos, the nomad chief of a nomadic tribe passed away in peace. —0—0— DEAL WITH SVATOPLUK The North-Western part of Atilla’s land, (today the Western part of Slovakia), was claimed in those days by Moravia, as its South-Eastern frontier. One day a Magyar delegation arrived to Svatopluk, the Moravian King. They brought presents to the King. A beautiful white stallion, with an embroidered blanket, bridle and saddle decorated with gold and silver. It was, indeed, a royal present. Leading the horse before Svatopluk, the leader of the delegation spoke. “We are your neighbors. Our ruler, Arpad sends his greeting to you. If you desire that we be good neighbors, accept his present. If you do not accept it, we shall be your enemy. It is up to you.” “What does Arpad want in exchange for his present?” asked the Moravian King suspiciously. “A shoulder-bag filled with your soil, a goat-hide filled with your water, and a saddle-bag filled with your grass”, the envoy answered. Svatopluk reached greedily for the gold-plated bridle of the beautiful stallion, and answered them. “Whoever sent you, he may settle down. The land is uninhabited anyhow. Tell him to send me such presents often.” A short time later, the Magyars began to take possession of their new homeland. At first, only a few riders appeared, roaming the Moravian frontierland, then more and more came. Svatopluk became worried by the multitude of the newcomers, and sent an envoy to the “devil’s riders”. As the man was led to one of the Magyar leaders he spoke. THE EIGHTH TRIBE Editor .............................................................Sándor E. Chomos Contributing Editor ................................................ Albert Wass Published and printed monthly by The Bethlen Press, Inc. P.O. Box 637, Ligonier, Pa. 15658, USA. Second Class Postage paid at Ligonier, Pa. 15658, UJS.A. Subscription: $8.00 yearly. Authorized representative in Cleveland, Ohio is: Sándor Szabadkai. 1794 W. 30 Street, Cleveland, Ohio 44113.
