I remember last season. Snowy forest still asleep, bent under the weight of the branches Kuchta. Barely audible rustling, skiing is easily ripped white veil powdered with buranitsy. Enjoying the easy way, I freely slide forward, filling the ski runs reaching me comrades. We are a party of four.
Andrew for many years holds Russian hounds. This hunt, he fell ill in those days, rich in game, when to stand on legs and a local farm hares raised on the outskirts. Years passed, and the country has changed way of life, but dogs remained. Vaughn and Now osenistaya Andrew went to the Rogue climb with Dina peers and his sidekick, also gonchatnika Lehi. Alex works in a gamekeeper the district society. Today we are in the hunt circumvention. AND He, of course, chief.
Closes column Vasily — venerable hunter, still remembers World War II. Slowly shuffling on its old times «stilts»He incessantly poison tales seasoned natured village materkom.
The day today turned out to be not for hunting the most successful: a Evening came, and the thaw the sky sprinkled with rare wet snow. After midnight he gained strength and He saw thick heavy flakes zatihnuv only in the morning. Short newly-fallen snow closed all night zhirovki hare. AND Only Malik winding, leading to maturation, it was still possible to make out somewhere.
But the fact that hunting is today, we do not doubt. Masterovitye with Dean Rogue their business know find their hare, as if he no He is hiding.
And in spruce for the rides, exactly where on the Leshina assurances from year to year fall on belyachki day’s rest, Rogue screamed drawl. Echoing her heavy Bashurov thundered Dean waking a sleepy forest. Even with Half a minute vyzhlovok voice sounded discordantly, like musical instruments, adjusting to each other, and finally began to play in singsong unison and thunderously. Ghosn broke and I went on tract and leaping recklessly.
We froze, with pleasure listening to this enchanting music of hunting. And then they fled buranitse who left who the right, taking your favorite Laz, where no time already mined hares. An array of forests, for which was gon, was biased to the right and overgrown field fresh cutting on the left. Therefore, at the Each hunter has a strong belief that the hare is sure to zavernet buranitsu, and, of course, everyone hoped that he will take the name of its manhole. But all turned out differently …
Voices hounds loudly on gremevshego wood, steel, and quickly go to the right to the field. Risen out of place in the wind rustled treetops, and vyzhlovki soon disappeared from hearing. We were standing on in rooms I hope that Hong did turn back to prone. But Time passed, and nothing is It happened. I I looked at Navigator and I gasped. «Astro» He drew on Map display uneven thick line all the way passed our bow. That dog clocked in island, unraveling the trail, but they had only to raise animals as they went on line in field.
There are diving into ovrazhinu by the bottom of the creek that passes, they continued the pursuit. The ravine, cutting the field in half, went to «the highway» — country gravel road linking to several villages in the district center. Before the road it flowed overgrown willow lowlands and on the other side fell into I understand the local rivers. Hounds were not far from the road. Before They were about two kilometers …
«What hare ?! It Patrikeevna our dogs hooked. Now hijacking distant lands». — from I thought angrily.
On the radio I quickly summoned companions reported the situation, and each out of it in the hands Navigator, clearly showing how the hounds, passing a ravine, has dumped on «turnpike» and Now is clearly in confusion go on it from side to side. All agreed that it was a fox, and red cheats managed to outwit the dogs jumped on impregnated sets odors road. We trudged dejectedly to «loaf»Left on logging roads have edge of the forest.
Described by bumpy roads letter «g»We were soon on where skololis hounds. But and those gone. Coming out of the Oise, again we heard their voices are deleted field back into the forest, where we just were. So, our old ladies still managed to straighten and chipping again driven by gossips hot pursuit. It was decided to take the fox in mites. Alex, having fallen from high mound of snow, ran to dogs across the field, and others jumped in car, rushed back to the tract.
Navigator showed that the beast to tuck forest roads and by popping in radio Lehiny instructions: «Marsh, swamp necessarily shut!» We quickly were placed on Rooms from chat cars.
Barely had time. Dogs were in island. Ghosn went straight to us. Through the wind and he grew shirilsya, leaping tears filling all the space. FROM guns at the ready, we hid, wondering where is held the fox. Another minute or two and everything must be resolved. But Suddenly the voice of hounds stopped. We are in We looked at each other puzzled. There was a small peremolchka and Ghosn rolled edge of the forest back to back ravine. We are still podshumeli ?!
In the radio again Leshin wheezing voice: «Guys, this is the hare, and no no a Fox! We did a great folly in do not rush looking at the tracks road. Oblique wraps on circle. Adjusts!» That’s Malik of the check printed on fresh snow among the sparse birch. Hare slowly rolled strip melyatnika, jutting far into the field. I stayed listened to the hounds.
Distance to Field can see a dark figure. It rushes to Alex ravine doggies help straighten chips. I will go slowly along the birch on field Cleft track in heel…
The band birch and thins soon dropped. Through sticking out of the snow blade of grass weeds Malik takes a sweeping Chirkov ravine. Passing chistinu he goes young spruce, crawls ragged ridges of the ravine on field. Back to snow tranquil krugsledy. Skokie-hopping, jumping, gallop… Stop, listen. AND further hobbled slowly.
With Dean Rogue finally sorted out hare tricks. Roared drove in on my way ravine smoothly and donoschivo. I I crouched behind a low herringbone prior to Progal Hare track. I stood, transfixed. I am waiting for oblique.
But here in silly idea came. I thought that would be inconvenient to ski something on hare shoot. What if the oblique side of the pops? So I and do not turn around time I have time. Looking around to see if anyone I I leaned the gun to fur-tree, and he bent down to untie the rope bags that I have to skis fastened to the snow under boots not and even got not creak when walking.
Unleashes, and itself I look sides. Suddenly something flashed in spruce in front and disappeared. At once I forgot about the rope. Only I had time to straighten yes shotgun stretch — belyachok due herringbone white ball rolled out, I looked at I have black eyes and Shasta — for another Christmas tree hiding. Here it is hit or miss. I bahnul this not herringbone looking, only the white powder snow lapnika crumbled…
With gun in shoulder stand, eyes sweep bare patches between trees — look, pop up on the net oblique. But still, as photos, powdered with fir trees, there is nowhere my rabbit.
Burning with impatience, I go to see what was on the «a wounded» herringbone. Here fled long dashes, reared snow «troika», A tonsured branches of pine needles. Spreading spruce branches, and heart with joy ekaet — stretched out on white snow, is as white and fluffy white hair.
Dmitry Kashirin1 April 2015 at 06:56