Photos © Ferghana.Ru

This enigmatic plateau is situated on the slopes of the Zaravshan Range about 30 kilometers south of Samarkand, between Ilansai and Takhtakaracha passes. Translated from the Uzbek language, its name stands for Devil's Helmet. Not even the locals who have their sheep and goats graze here remember how the area came by its ominous name. If it was a legend, some actual event, or anything else is anybody's guess now.

Guides intent on showing it to tourists are not sure of their bearings. They argue among themselves, insisting on absolutely different directions. What everybody agrees on is that Shaitan Zhiga is an extensive plateau of granite slabs stretching from the creeks of Mirankul in the direction of the settlement of Karatepe. Guides say that it is instantly recognizable. Its rocks look like sculptures - demons frozen in eternal dance, ancient idols, and prehistoric monsters turned to stone.

Old men call it a bad place. Either pagans and shamans used it for human sacrifice, or a fierce battle took place here once... but the skies caved in and caused an earthquake that transformed the mountains forever. Indeed, it is difficult to imagine that the granite rocks were shaped by the daily exposure to the sun, wind, and rains. A tourist cannot help seeing "animals" - a bear, tiger, a colossal frog, lizard, vulture, a giant's head resembling stone colossi from the Easter Island.

In the late 1990's, a prominent photographer from the city of Navoi made a careful study of his photos of the stone "sculptures" (some of them encountered even in the basin of the Zaravshan River) and came up with an interesting hypothesis. He suggested that the art of sculpture in the Stone Age could have been sparked by the impression made on our ancestors by natural artefacts. Encountering the rocks whose silhouettes stirred his imagination, ancient craftsman "completed" the work the time and nature itself had begun.

Academic circles turned the hypothesis down as too unorthodox. Hurt by this denial and afraid of foul play which occurs all too frequently nowadays, the photographer put away his collection of photos. He would exhibit them no more. The photographer told journalists that he would never abandon his convictions. "I understand that elements do create so many amazing forms," he said, "but why do some of them appear like man's creations so much?" This correspondent replied that finding some reference in the past experience, discovering something usual in the uncommon is quite human. Nature is the ultimate creator capable of endless diversity, but man inevitably attaches to it some familiar traits to overcome the primordial fear of infinity.

As a matter of fact, Shaitan Zhiga sculptures may probably be taken as another denouncement of the photographer's bold hypothesis. Some of them cluster together, creating what would certainly take a whole people or a chain of generations to carve. Closer to the pinnacles, rocks create a semblance of castles, labyrinths, or episodes of battles fought and forgotten long ago.

Even modern SF has its own explanation of the phenomenon. Sergei Lukianenko, Russia's Number One SF Writer as some critics call him, has one of the episodes in the last novel of his famous trilogy unfold in Samarkand. Lukianenko even describes some plateau of demons in his book "The Last Watch".

According to "The Last Watch", the plateau of demons is an area in the mountains. People avoid it, and only an infrequent tourist ever pays a visit. A grandiose battle between the forces of Light and Darkness took place there once. Outnumbering their enemies, forces of Darkness were getting the upper hand, and Rustam the Magician invoked a horrible spell that warped space and time. The spell turned all warriors into stone. They remain alive, but they are deprived of the ability to move and of their senses for thousands of years.

"Softened by wind and infrequent rains, the silhouettes of stone figures remain recognizable... Shivery aureoles above the rocks flash brown and green colors of madness. An attempt to find an analogy will lead to the image of a hundred of madmen circling in one and the same place - screaming, giggling, crying, moaning, mumbling, drooling spittle, scratching their faces, or trying to claw their own eyes out..."

The location of the plateau of demons with regard to Samarkand is given by Lukianenko with precision, it is only the distance that he makes a mistake with. As for the demonic "aura" of the place, the plateau looks anything but inviting indeed. There are practically no trees despite the abundance of creeks in spring. Even grass is sparse, with granite - grey or yellowing, like bone - in between. Reddish veins of spar are like bruises in giants' faces. The impression is that of a mystery, rather than anything ominous, apparently generated by the open vistas all about and the endless sky where clouds drift.