And so it went. I left before dawn and returned after dark, in the direction of the rag-tag tried not to look, even though the harm they still were many. That Nina, Tatiana again potsapaetsya and ricocheted from Tanya gets me – why these vshivachey brought along. Oleg then handle my hatchet deserved break, but it still will cartridges from my backpack potaskivat when I was there, and then the cartridges at a premium. I was surprised – the hell he wanted them? Raven, perhaps, in a camp fire? Later turned out that not only the crows.
In general, we have turned to them a classic case of incompatibility, this eternal nightmare all sailors, mountain climbers, astronauts and other such public. Just as before, it is called cabin fever, «cabin fever." Only instead of the hut was a large space, where I did not want to go anywhere, and they could not. There was, however, this difference between us, that I think about them and stopped, except in detail, and from the wild baldel brodyazhey of life in which their lack of complexity and difficulty, and they had absolutely nothing to do, except for me to bear malice . Hatred finally got off to poison the envy of Cobra. This was understandable. Oleg looked too silly in this story, and the lack of observers. I would think – but who thinks about these things in advance? Only when the clap of thunder, the Russian golden rule.
There was another funny story, when I had to do them again. One night, I just started in my tent to sleep after a hard day in the field, I feel, the mouse ran to me, and one even in the face rode Kurtz-gallop. What the hell, I think. Year that really was a mouse, to the delight of the foxes, but the parade was something out of the ordinary. My whole body rassiropilos, would have luxuriated in a sleeping bag, but the years have taught brodyazhey life that any oddities in nature is no accident. Groaning, I got out of the tent – and froze. Palatochku I instinctively put her on the mound, so that rain water did not flow under it. And now I see that my hillock is an island, and all around was flooded with water. Flooding in the desert! The first case in my whole not very quiet life. Probably water in the canal rose sharply, about discharge from the reservoir, or the wind caught the Aral Sea, such as during a flood in St. Petersburg. God only knows what reason, but the fact is – this is it.
"Muscovites", apparently, already stained – they excitedly echoed in the side and quickly break camp. I also had to do his feet all the water came. All my clothes were in the tent, so I skorenko povydergival pegs, threw them in, palatochku slung like a sack on his back, along with mice – those poor things, I suppose, from the neighborhood huddled on my island – and walked almost to his knees in water and dirt to find a place drier. And what to look for him, then the highest point – the canal, it seems dam rises above the flat steppe. Then I joined up, and for me and the second team. Decided not to put the tent, and there povyturil mice got into it as an additional sleeping bag.
Once I calmed down and relaxed feel, Yuri on my shoulder and shakes me obscenely morality reads: that the bad throw comrades in trouble, because "we" do not do it. Oh, you turkey inflated, I think. If they tell you dorogietovarischi so myself and help me, and I'm talking about these Okhlomon forgot to think. But not venturing a debate on the ethical issues in the middle of the flood. And I have not forgotten about them, to be honest, and even thought gleefully that they, I suppose, distress in full. But here I Ashamed proletarian manual labor. I groaned and got out of a warm bag and went to look for this darling couple. At all of them, as always, Nina favorite job – hysteria, Oleg uselessly pulling some strings, and odds and ends they all got wet.
Okay. I put them to the tent, cut a bunch of reeds, built a small fire, muttered: "Sushites", and finally got into his bag, praying, that has not happened yet earthquake, because the strength I had not been any. The battery is dead in hell.