Crimean Legend - The golden shore

People lived near the shores of worried sea-giant, near mountains, covered with green foam of herbes. That southern land was famous for it's amazing nature, innumerable wealth, but people lived there in poverty and were deeply unhappy. They were tormented under the oppression of Turkish conquerors for a long time. The ruller of Yalta, Akhmed-Aga made the dependent suffer a lot. He wanted to be the richest of the rich, stronger of the strongest. The groan of the sufferers made the sea grow dark and the mountains shivered in rage...

In the evening Akhmed-Aga together with Hodzhava, his wife were going down to the cellar, where there were trunks, filled with jewels, amassed by dishornest means. They opened trunks and with eyes, glittering of greed, lowered their hands in gold, pouring it. And gold, brightened with candles, turned in purple colour and it seemed, that it is not gold, but blood is flowing between fingers.

But the day of reckoning is drawing near Akhmed-Aga! Big army goes along the steppe of the Ukraine from the North. It was Russia to send it's light brown soldiers in Tauria to banish the vile Turks.

Akhmed-Aga was stunned with news about the approach of the Russians. He felt down on his knees with anger and, having raized his hands to the sky, started praying for Allah, calling for help. But the sky looked indifferently on the praying.

The song of the Russians has been already heard from Sivash.

Then Akhmed-Aga bethought himself and started preparing for departure. In the morning the row of slaves, loaded with carpets, patterned unprecendented, golden coins and other jewels, went to the sea-shore, where the ship was standing.

In the evening the ship of Akhmed-Aga left the dangerous shore. The groans and curses of the robbered and deprived people followed their departure.

Akhmed-Aga hurried into the open sea, he was unaware of what was to become of him. The sky knitted it's clouds-brows, there was a crash of thunder and the waves played with the ship. The wind sang in masts, portending the escapists death in the deep.

The shouts of the drowning men were not heard in deafening roar of the waves. And only when lightning cut the black cover of the sky and threw light upon the storming sea, the wreckage of the ship were floating on it's surface...

The Russians drove away the Turks from the Crimea, freed people, who lived there out of etrnal yoke. Once people came to the shore and saw that it was shining, as if it had been strewed with golden coins in the beams of rising sun.

The wise old man from the crowd came out and said:

This sea returned jewels, which Akhmed-Aga had taken away. The sea crushed jewels into pieces and strew it with the sand. That's why it shines, as if golden.

People call it "The golden shore" since that time.