ABSTRACT
SANGERUP was my companion and confidant on several of my journeys. My reason for choosing him was that he was said to have a great knowledge of the old songs. In his youth he had sung old-time poetry, rich in meaning, to the great men of the steppe, and drinking songs at his comrades’ festive gatherings; but now he had survived them all, and the new generation wanted to hear quite different songs from those he had treasured up.
