Searching for Odtsetseg
German Swiss International School, Stella Schabel, Fiction: Group 2
O
dtsetseg! Odtsetseg!” Enkhjargal kept repeating the name of her beloved camel. There
was no response. Odtsetseg must have lost her way and Enkhjargal felt miserable.
Searching frantically in the endless sand dunes, Enkhjargal came upon an old man
resting on a boulder. “Will you please help me?” she asked the man. “I’ve lost my camel.”
“Now let me think,” the old man replied. “Yes, I’m almost certain I saw a camel in the
distance, heading that way.” He stretched a skinny, leathery arm in the direction of a mountain
range shimmering in the distance. Enkhjargal thanked the man for his help and began to scan the
horizon. Nothing but sand, rocks, and a few thorny bushes here and there.
So on she went. After searching for the entire day she finally gave up. “It’s impossible,”
Enkhjargal sighed exhaustedly. “It would take me months to search this whole desert by foot.” She
slumped down on the sand, tears filling her eyes.
“Excuse me,” said a voice from behind. “Do you need help?”
Enkhjargal spun around to see a young farmer on a sweaty, black horse standing before her.
“I’ve lost my camel!” she burst out.
The farmer studied her for a moment. “You look starved. Why don’t you come with me,” he
suggested. Enkhjargal hesitated. The farmer smiled and introduced himself. “I’m Mongo Qutlugh.
Come join my wife and me for dinner.”
An hour later they approached a little yurt. The farmer’s wife welcomed Enkhjargal and
immediately served up a hearty meal of lamb stew and a glass of sheep’s milk.
After a while Enkhjargal said, “I better get going.” She thanked Mongo Qutlugh and his wife
for their generosity and said goodbye. But Mongo Qutlugh would not let her go by herself and
insisted on accompanying her. So they packed some provisions and set off. Not long after, they
bumped into a traveller.
“Hello,” Mongo Qutlugh greeted the stranger. “Did you happen to see a camel pass by?”
The traveller looked up at Mongo Qutlugh. “Why, yes! She was roaming around all by herself,
so I took her in. That was when I noticed she had injured her leg. I bandaged it carefully.”
“Where is she?” exclaimed Enkhjargal.
“Over by my tent. Come, follow me.” The three set off, this time arriving at a small tent, its
lining billowing in the wind. Tied to the tent was a small Bactrian camel. Enkhjargal slid off the
horse and scrambled towards her camel.
“Odtsetseg!” she cried, her eyes tearing up. She flung herself at her camel, squeezing its long
neck tightly. Then she whispered in Odtsetseg’s little ears that she would never lose her again.
“
