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In the wilds of the Kirov forests once hunted for grouse? Part 2 :.: Article 02.07.2019 at 21:00 :.: Article

By the time referred to in this story of life, a dash (younger brother of my father, who was then for me an indisputable authority) was more interested in girls than fishing or hunting. Although, of course, there are exceptions. Go to the first part of the article Especially if I'm not to his companions stuffed, and some of the adults will be offered — let's go! Well, then it shreds... Like the pioneer. Always ready! As Gagarin and Titov. And then one fine may morning... went Out on the porch of that two-storey wooden house still Imperial times in which they lived with a Bit of our grandfather and grandmother (well, we, respectively), the neighbor from the first floor — Vasily Kuznetsov. The same. Famous in our house hunter. He alone bear-ovsyanniko produced. True, he broke his leg, and the gun shattered. From the words of uncle Vasi — on the bear's head. And if you believe his wife, aunt Lyuba, about the stump on which he shed fell. Well, the women that they take. A lot of them in the hunt you know?! Of course, about the head. It follows, then, uncle Bob on the porch and says: — Well, boobies... not mahanut us on gluhariny current? Time I'm such power under Anikina know that the grouse themselves sit on the head... With you boat and nets. Will have to fish to get the "evil way". "You" is, of course, not me (Mal, they say, still on the hunt to roam!) uncle Bob had in mind. A Fraction and his sidekick Oleg, with whom they one gang-watering can from the kindergarten. Well, lads and happy. Hunting! Capercaillie current! This is not about isopropylene to teach. In General, in the evening, the three of them went. On capercaillie. Uncle Bob took another and a young hound Find. They sank the boat-the cauldron with the "Wirestem" engine, threw in her all his belongings, pulled a couple of times a rope starter... "R-R-rrrr"... they ran away. Well, then... then that shreds on return told. And I was sitting at the table, forgetting the fruity cloudberry jam and, especially, cooling in a glass of tea, and listened, open-mouthed. Before dark, they arrived on gluhariny current. First mesh set, then went to the stomping ground where uncle Bob raised the feathers and droppings of capercaillies, smelled them and said: — Well, guys... Will be. Will be hunting! It is necessary to put up three shelters and not to be seen breaking white on the branches! Grouse — bird careful. See fresh damage, do not sit on the meadow. And, moreover, tokovat will not start. Once the boss said the boys did so: organized around the three tokovischa maturation, so that in plan they stood at the vertices of a roughly equilateral triangle. Uncle Bob, they were told to shoot only when grouse will rasputitsa and to the female fit. Like, at this point he guys can't hear (that's why I call him that), then shoot. But if you shoot early then the whole flock will fly away. And the males, on the current came and females. This conversation came back to the river, to a Parking lot. Until that, only a bottle got... Nayda barked and in the woods with an arrow. And as if we went around the circle. Uncle Bob immediately startled: The trail took. Hare drives. Even though he was in the spring and skinny, but what a clever dog! Picked up they with Oleg guns and ran. And shreds remained to guard the boat. Or rather, not so much the boat (who needs it!), how much gasoline. The "Swirl" is a flow rate of 25 liters to 30 kilometers. And if no petrol, oars... Yes no health is not enough! In short, Singh is sitting near the fire, Smoking bamboo, and here and Naida ran. Water out of the river bohlabela and near it head on your knees. And in the woods noise, noise, shooting indiscriminately... after about thirty Minutes returned hunters. Uncle Bob says, sitting down by the fire next to Tolik: — the Dog is young, inexperienced, probably, to the Islands of the rabbit stole. Tolia and his answers, nodding in the direction of Nayda: — So here it is. Already more than half an hour lies at rest, and there all you someone to chase! Well, I eat a little the fact that out of the house captured, there pokemario bit, in with one eye open, and early in the morning went to grouse. Find uncle Bob was locked in the glove box, on the boat. And then, like, all the grouse scared. They, the three of us, before the dawn, came the stomping ground and lay down in the tent. And the month of may in our area (North-East of the Kirov region) is not very warm, that shreds and moved to Oleg: sweatshirts hid, lie. Are all alert and waiting. When this "copyr of copyr" arrive. The voice of the grouse stomping ground very similar to these sounds, and if on the boots "Brody" Pat, so just like the sound of its wings when it is on the current female calls. The sun came out, it was felt that a day of such good starts, and suddenly... With two trunks in the hut in which shreds with Oleg was a doublet. They almost obhezalis there. Jumped out of the tent... and then uncle Bob from your rises: — Men... Sorry! No one is hurt, everyone is alive?! Well, he, of course, in response: — Well, uncle Bob... You give! Would have killed both easily. And he was Dreaming... Dreaming daydream: bear climbs into my tent. And he's spring. Hungry! And... Sort of like woke up, but then I feel his stinking breath and cold, all some slimy face... And this face... Starts licking me! Well, I'm on the trigger and pulled... turns out it wasn't a bear. And Naida! It's in the glove box closed on a branch instead of a lock. And the dog — honchak, apparently, no way was she not suffer, when all went hunting. So she escaped. And to whom to run? Sure thing, to the owner. Naida and resorted to uncle Bob. And let's lick it. Everything they say, and here I am. Together hunting. In short, gone stomping ground. Mesh removed and not empty-handed, home. Well at least, once flew at the mouth of the Kazanka Seluga, down in the Islands... But the Islands are not visible, their hollow water flooded, but shallow water "males" (as we called ruffs)... visible-invisible. And people are not afraid not a bit. Even on the wing did not rise from the noise of the motor. Well, our "hunters" and shot all three barrels. Reloaded shot... Again. And what a nice soup then from these ruffs welded grandma......

This article describe tags: the history of life, hunting