I walked, with his heavy rifle on shoulder, one hand on the neck of the stock, and the other by the barrel. So himself in the neck arms to push, and go seemingly easier. Self-deception, of course. On the right the sea, left the reeds, my eyes used did not see them. The place was once in a special desert, only rustling reeds in the wind but the splash of water in the way. Very rarely takes wing duck in the reeds, but to shoot them and get – thank you very much. And you will not find a damn thing, though week search. Couple zmeyuk unless you can find. Or do they find you.
The sun began to lean all below, filling up a tattered clouds, and I'm dragging, just feet totter stronger. Stopped to rest. Another night in the reeds, I thought wistfully, poddergivaya pants. Pants have completely kept, and strive to fall along with the belt. It was as if I had lost half of its weight less than one day, though before all this beastliness was very bold.
I staggered, plaintive sigh, looked forward – and eyes and stared at the horizon. There was a black vertical line some, but what it is, it was impossible to make out. What is clear is that not a tree – where trees here, this crosses the desert, the sea and the marshes? Hence, the work of man. Here would be unfortunate that a telescope … Okay, do not care. Once on the horizon, then four kilometers. Dobredem somehow.
Go with the sight of at least some purpose, not like more fun than just rearrange legs without much sense. Came a time when it was possible to guess that it was a black streak tower triangulation – several tubes welded pyramid. She stood on a tiny sand island. I went as far as the island, and collapsed. It was too long on his feet. With quarter of an hour, perhaps, lying, but then picked up, did you. We had to cut the reeds, many reeds – and the bed, and hide, and the fire burned. Here, by the sea but in the wind, the night will be much colder than the thicker cane. There may proskvozit so that life will then hiccup.
I made me a lair inside the tower – piled reeds on the ground of it is made barrier from the sea, and even prepared a mountain of this stuff for a fire. A little more lay there stupidly listening to the lapping of tiny waves and wind noise in the bushes. For the trouble I had not noticed the sun crashed into the horizon. It has become much darker and colder over the reeds began pereletyvat duck and pulled the clouds with all waterfowl Sea to the south, to the land, but I was not up to them. We had to obtyapat Another necessary thing.
I wandered around the tiny small beach, picked up some driftwood, cast ashore, chose the site and began to dig below the sand of a snag, a knife, and then the hands. Digging a long time, until the sand is gone, and the liquid mud. Still lay on his reed bed, waiting nasochitsya water and sludge. Then he pulled out a bag of silver pile – thank God, I though this indispensable attribute of hunting did not leave the tent – and cautiously, trying not vzbalamutit water natsedil from the bottom of his camp-well water and drank. The water was brackish, but well filtered sand, not a mixture of marsh, which I etched in the morning. So I took another three piles, and waking. Enough is enough. Not all are key Castilian.