Another legend from my old friend, a former hunter and industrialist, Grandfather Bazyl. He knows the local area, walked around the whole area with his eyes closed, back in the good days when birds and animals were not uncommon, but inhabited impenetrable forests in abundance.

I must first say that there were two lakes in the area where Grandfather Bazyl lived. One is closer to the village, behind a low hill, leaning against the edge of the forest. And the other is much further away, in the forest. Ancient pines and fir trees surrounded it from all sides, sheltering it with their dark crowns like a tent.

The nearby lake began to get smaller over time, it became stuck. The banks began to overgrow with sedge and reeds. And immediately there were moths in this lake. The creatures are persistent, noisy. All the children were scared, and they even wanted to pull some of them by their feet into the lake abyss. But, thank God, it worked out. People stopped going to the lake after that, and the bad fame stuck to it.

And about that time, late in the evening, Basil was returning home from a neighboring village on a cart. He stayed with his godfather for his eldest son after midnight.

Goes. He looked, and six or seven girls, barefoot, in rags, but cheerful and talkative, jumped out onto the road that was walking along the lake through the forest. Basil wanted to swing his whip at the stopped horse, but then the strangers began to beg him to take them to the lake. He agreed.

When they arrived, the companions jumped off the cart and hurried to the water. And the last of the girls handed the carrier a handkerchief-payment for the service. The kerchief was very beautiful: there were white water lilies on the dark green field and different birds. He bowed to the girl and drove off. I got home safely. His wife is waiting at the gate, worried. Her husband hands her a gift, wants her to put a handkerchief on her shoulders and be happy. But he feels something cold and slippery in his hand. He looks, and in his hand there is a Marsh Mud with water lilies intertwined and green frogs...

And it immediately became clear that Bazyl had given the girls a ride, and they had repaid him in such a bad way, they had decided to disgrace him.

Oh, and the hunter got angry. He rushed into the house, grabbed a gun from the wall, a bandolier over his shoulder, and, ignoring his wife's pleas and crying, rushed to the lake. He fired into the air a couple of times, shouted loudly, they say, come out, you scanty creatures, keep the answer, you have to pay for good with good, and you treated a person like that.

And what did you think! The moths began to come out of the bushes, who comes out of the water at the terrible cry of the hunter. And let's beg Bazyl and beg him to forgive them, by the devil. They began to say that this was the youngest, unreasonable, and a mistake.

They ask the hunter-how can they make amends? "Maybe you need to do something, tell us, we'll do it right away." "And that's exactly what Basil needed.

"Get on the wagon, everyone, and I'll take you to the forest lake. You're going to live there now," he said, and he did.

Since then, not a single moth has been seen in the lake near the village.

- Well, are there any moths in that forest lake? I ask.

- And where will they go? That's where they live," the old hunter replied to me, sipping a strong samosad.