July 27 this year, the gamekeeper October city society of hunters and fishers of the Republic of Bashkortostan and the author of “Russian hunting newspaper” Gennady Stepanovich Agapitova is 55 years old. The Board of the society and the editors congratulate him and offer his readers a new essay.
If now taken aloud to remember how many were in our hunting grouse, hunters younger than me age usually start me openly to posmeyatsya. It is clear, they say, you know, the sugar was sweeter, and the water at times wetter…
God will judge them. I know right. Here the young girls forty years ago it was less. Beautiful was all as now, but less. Twenty years ago — Yes, girls were added, but all the same much less than now, it was. Now something young beauties around Avon how much — by evening, my neck hurts, even though cry cry.
A grouse, on the contrary, there were many. Very much. Embarked on the wing broods in seven or eight goals another time at a clearing in sight of one one out. Postavi only head to turn.
We walked through the woods together. I and two of my companion, gamekeeper Vladimir Kozlov and Sergey Epifanov. Yeah, we even trotted Volodin male Russian-European Laika Mazay… a Little to paraphrase a classic — three on foot, not counting the dog.
…Remarkable, I must say, dog. First, he had one significant drawback: the dog of those that are smarter than everyone. When anyone could take your decision, it is not coinciding with the views and wishes of his companions, at the same time, as I remember, never bother to explain why. They say that you, the cormorants, to explain the unfortunate guarisco for some half a mile independently priceat not, but there is — “the hunters”, “hunters”… And do with it what you want, in the middle of the forest…
And to leave it at home there was no way. Breaks out everywhere, you will find in the woods — and there was. However, our economy — not some distant forest, and there, behind the fence starts, but still.
…But secondly, it was the Mazzei and undeniable, undeniable advantage: the highest working qualities, it is some incredible, inexplicable way, it’s always unmistakably know whom today we think of hunting, and only worked on this type. But also knew if we ohotnichii at all. If not, and the beast didn’t chase. Be with us to pour. In a word, to go about their business never interfered.
We walked on Shumilov cordon. And vypival firmly embarked on the wing grouse. Shumilov cordon not too far distance. Straight from the city of twelve miles, no more, but egerskiy worries — here at badger Gorodishche to look, there to the mineral lick to wrap up, here is just a cute plot to go around, maybe winter elk horn in the left — accumulates.
By the end of the day, on the way to the place without difficulty got a few grouse. The soup is cooked.
Despite the fact that the cordon at that time were still alive two or three huts, to sleep decided on the outside, around the campfire. The weather is very much allowed.
Poured in the water, launched processed grouse, hung over the fire. Now peel the potatoes, the onions, add the dry vermicelli concentrate with stars bags add some garlic and you’re done.
While the meat is cooked, as it were accidentally ate the greatest invention of mankind for vagrants of all time — salty bacon with bread and got to bed. The cauldron from the fire, of course, removed, set aside. Tomorrow will Devarim.
In the morning hastily drank tea. Soup? Well, it. At lunch, cook it up, and went back to crawling. At some point, Volodya suddenly loud, as if continuing his thoughts, exclaimed:
— No, guys, something here not so! I’m Gad to see through. Something obscene he did.
Mazzei, meanwhile, defiantly, downright theatrical “work”: burying his face into the ground, hard chelnoki in front of us, as if unraveling the invisible animal Nebrodi. Noisy puffed almost over every blade of grass, as if determining relevant odors. Cast us knowing looks. Someone, say, here, I’ll handle it. I’m always for the common good.
— No, something he’s done…
For dinner went back to the cordon. Kazan stood as I stood, carefully cover the knob up beside her, grouse broth is gone.
— MA-a-a-ay! she cried wolf all around. — I told you, I told you that it is something in the process. Kill…
Mazay beyond the reach of the first kick or a blow from his stick staring at us through the nearest Bush askance. Without blinking and grimly-warily. And was silent. As always, nothing is explained.
Wolf cursed dog terrible words, threatened, cussed out, and before killing, promised to death to torture.
But Mazzei-then what, huh? Therefore, when we heroically were sleeping around the fire, the glory of the Fatherland, this flea-bitten gentleman all night thought. Thought. Insidious planned, as they say, so it was all, and he would for it was nothing. Thought of everything, everything, everything is carried out.
Instincts? Reflexes? No, gentlemen, this is the mental activity of the highest order. He’s smarter than any “master”. I’ll tell you, Mazzei then another five days-six did not come home. Outside the court lived. Yet, so to speak, with the lapse of time the punishment for a crime is not completely lost aktualnosti. But what are we supposed to do with this in the woods? Cleaned-cut the potatoes in the cauldron. Added the onions and vermicelli concentrate. Hung over the fire.
The broth is surely the grouse was? Hence, the soup grouse. Cook. Ate. Remember, it was delicious.
I remember it well. True know. Young girls before it was less, and grouse a lot. Both are beautiful as now.
