By nightfall it got cold, and Vilor decided to heat the oven. Scooped up the ashes, brought from the woodshed birch bark for kindling, carefully putting it on the grate Poleski, struck a match. The field flashed a shadow, someone knocked at the door. On the threshold stood Tim.
— Come!— Vilor was glad for an unexpected guest.
Chaux, hovering, coutner for my health? — Tim put down the pint and, pulling from the pockets of dried roach, added: ‘the Fish caught, prepared myself.
He said quietly, slightly lisping. Took off his jacket and hat and sat down. Vilora was struck by his thinness in front of him sat a little boy with stretched skin on bony haggard face. It was hard to believe that this is a specialist of the highest standard to naganian for shooters of wild animals. But the network of deep wrinkles, the look of childish eyes, blue veins on his hands and gray hair gave him an elderly man.
Drank a drink, ate. Poured another. Vilor looked into the eyes of Timofey, filled with some inner pain, and felt like he came for a reason and is silent until then.
— Know what Babaryka business? finally asked Tim.
— I guess not.
— Wild boar, elk in the zone beat (good left), meat in restaurants carry. Chain they worked, the mosquito of a nose will not undermine. Protect people from the interior Ministry. But I didn’t tell you this.
— The Przewalski’s horse is also his job?
Tim was silent, staring at lapanik.
— About horses I will not say, I do not know. Rather, the majors for the adrenalin mad. And about the posts… you’re Naive, man! They have it made. In the area who braconinae? Their. I twice geocaches found the dead moose, wild boars for shipment. Moose, deer people are not afraid, come close, shoot — don’t want to. The last time I almost bought the give. I think I’m the only one in the area went? As anyone will tell you… And they drank, they to me!
— Money was received?
— Well, received. But where to go?
Vilor knew that Timokha has three children, a sick mother, wife, zaturkanny housework and Timechinese style. Chasseur on wages difficult to feed a family.
— More than me in the area of Kalach not entice. Another round of drinks.
Revelation Timokhi for Vilora was a complete surprise. He felt to him in a rush of tender feelings, wanted to hug, shake her hand. “That’s because the water soaked rolling stone at heart, and I about him…” he thought about Tim, about the latest developments in the hunting ground, feeling helpless. Well, convinced? What’s next? Who will stop this lawlessness?
Days free from hunting, took place in your routine. Before lunch we were taken to the feeders feed, repaired the tower. Special care required the numbers, built in the pine areas. In the evening went out on raids, often lingering in the grounds after midnight. Going to progolosuyu hut, Vilor first fired up the oven, washed in the basin, drank hot tea and went to bed.
Sleep is long to come. Why man is so constituted? What he likes, what he loves, without which the life becomes defective, dull, and crushes, destroys. And he heard the voice of his grandfather Jacob from early childhood: “God has forgotten, hence all the misfortunes”.
Times have changed, still cling to the Church. But why not in a hurry to get into the minds of men that God intended to do everything in this life is decent? Because there are no coincidences, everything has some meaning. Maybe the reason is that most people live, seeing the purpose of life in money? That they are cursed, replaced love, friendship, dreams, hopes…
How could it be that the exclusion zone around Chernobyl, where the radiation for the animals proved to be less dangerous than human activity, has become a zone of industrial poaching, in a place where wielded such Babaryka people, shooting of rifles, wild boar, elk, seeking the axes of the crazy out of fear of a deer caught in pits? And all for the sake of money. Not in the minds if these people Chernobyl mutation? They not turned the thirty-kilometer zone of alienation the zone of alienation of human relations, the length and width which is impossible to imagine? To many questions Vilor could not find the answers.
PHOTO JOHN WYNN/FLICKR.COM (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)
Tossed in the oven with the flames, dancing reflections on the wall, making an empty house presence of life. He listened to the rustle of mice under the floor, twisting and turning and finally fell asleep…
Relationship with the Director did not develop. In addition to trips on duty and other chasseur Affairs, has determined that Mr. Vilor to be responsible for the construction of the hunter’s house. Builders-shabashniki, as luck would have it, worked on weekends, when we went hunting, and it was for Wilora the greatest injustice.
— The construction is not less important, — said Babariko. — Do not like — write the application. I’m not stopping anyone.
That day early in the morning Vilor went to the UAZ in the district for the cement, going on the way to pick up the builders. But have not waited: was a holiday, and the men went on the rampage. Returning back through the forest in the hope of not only cutting, but also participate in battue hunting for wild boar. Shrouded gun lay on the seat. He has already traveled the array Cherednikova forest, left on acne, shut off the engine to listen and look around. Above the detached, quiet forest, stretching to the edge of the tract, hung heavy with snow clouds. Something forced him to open the door and take binoculars. At the end of the tract, from the opposite edge, in the Bush, he saw the head of a moose cow. She stood in the eyepieces of binoculars, pradal ears and did not budge. At a little distance from her, from the hollow leaned forward a huge stag. Vilor turned the binoculars above and was stunned: in the direction of the lurking moose was driving the jeep. When the car stopped, it took a few people with guns. In my head flashed: “the Poachers! People Babaryka? Is going to impose?”
Moose hunting was banned. Their numbers in recent years declined so much that talking about the red book. After discussions and disputes hunters, managers, scientists book decided to hold off, fearing thereby to leave an elk without a care in the hunting grounds, but the issuance of licenses suspended…
Vilor continued to drive the binoculars and suddenly found on the edge of the tract of the hunter, carefully concealed elks. The wind blew in the opposite direction, and it was on his hand. To elk remained about two hundred meters. Where did he come from? “Turn around! Look to your right! Now you will be killed!” — repeating as a spell, Vilor, sending mental signals to the moose, but she froze like a statue on a pedestal, and only occasionally looked askance in the direction of the approaching danger. Vilor could not find the hunter. Finally showing the top of the figure. He was standing in between rows of willows, the rifle with telescopic sight was pinned to a round fleshy face, similar to babarykina. But the moose calf. Did will shoot? Vilor trying to justify concealed, saying that he does it only out of curiosity. But then a dry shot broke the silence of the winter forest. As twitched the carcass of a moose cow, jumped out of the Creek the stag-like and giant, waddling massive body in the withered grass, he bounced back to oreshnikova thickets, — all this Vilor not seen. He jumped into the cockpit for a second before he hit the first shot. While nervously turning the ignition key, pressed the gas, my ears were given a rifle hooting. The motor wound up. Still going down the hill, he saw hunter standing there moved down to the bottom beams of the jeep, and realized that the job is done.
Old UAZ is quickly gaining speed, Vilor already distinguished the person standing at the jeep, but big fishes ‘ face, who opened fire on the moose, not seen. Hunters in camouflage, satisfied and happy, gesticulating and laughing, discussing on “the hunt”. Stood at the edge discharged his rifle, turned to Babariko and perplexed, asked,
pointing to rushing downhill Agora chasseur UAZ:
— Semen Semenych, and that’s that for the appearance of Christ to the people? Told without Rangers!
— In the car! — roared Babaryka first and grabbed the door of the jeep.
— Who? What the hell? Open the back door! Shoot that bastard! could be heard in the cab of the jeep a nervous voice.
Babaryka, it seemed that nobody heard. “Come upstairs, aspen sharply turns to the right, down. Do you understand? He does not know the road! — he shouted in the ear of the driver. Small car-Patty approached the heavy lacquered Hulk, one more and RAM can not be avoided. On top whore, when was recruited a high speed, the old aspen, the road turned sharply to the right. Vilor pressed on the brake, the car dragged to the side, shook, and at full speed she crashed into a tree. From hitting the front door opened, Wilora out back a few meters. Rolling over, UAZ continued to fall down in the direction of the retreating jeep…
Vilor tried to get up, a sharp pain pierced the body. Moved his toes, but he didn’t feel them. Made a second attempt and almost got up on stiff legs immediately collapsed to the ground. Drifted piles of white clouds, a solid line designated by the ditch, overgrown with weeds. Along it slowly moved a grown man and the teenager hunched father in a checkered brown shirt and an older brother, bald-haired, with kind laughing eyes. Brother helped his father to pull a wheelbarrow loaded with grass for their cows Zorki — couch grass, goosefoot, grass-Chernobyl. “Where am I?” — huntsman is looking for himself next to his brother and father and couldn’t find. And then it all disappeared. And it seemed to him as if he is the hazel Bush, and standing next to the moose with the rounded belly, pulls the hook-nosed head to a branch withered leaves, catches them strong teeth, shrink the sagging lip and a toss of his head, starts to chew dry bitter food. And her eyes are trusting…
He heard another shot, saw a jeep drove up with Babaryka, growled another car, stopped and got out of the few hunters with guns, carbines. Coarse animal face the man who shot the moose, cautiously and hidden curiosity looked at Wilora and threw a look at thieving flipped UAZ. Not far from the gamekeeper’s trunks lay in the snow his plane, and next to the bandolier. Metal buckle was dented someone’s foot melted to the ground.
‘Well, scatty, what up now? The moose shot! Bullet Poleva we pulled your bullet. Car broke… Oh, you made a fool of cardboard! Scare wanted to… Whom? Us! The article for myself…
Vilor trying to get up.
— I killed a moose? — throat croaked. — What are you talking about?
— Who? You, and you, weakling, to answer. Witnesses there.
Babaryka, not bothering to hide the gloating, talking about some kind of retribution that, they say, and Samokhvalov’t pull him out of that shit, not to be substituted for some hunters, such as Melentiev…
The last words of the Director of the huntsman is heard — fainted. Over the tract North wind, despite the heavy snow, zaprashivala forest, grass, tapered UAZ, tripe flayed a moose cow. And long was heard in a sour haze of muffled cawing of excited crows…
In early spring the district court sentenced Wilora Melentieva to two years in prison
freedom.
