I have been hunting for nearly sixty years. Many people are grateful for the hunting science: first of all the blessed memory of his father and his father Pantelei Mikhailovich wife Pavel Ivanovich, good wonderful person, an expert on the magnificent nature, the habits of birds and animals.
Throughout his life will remain in my memory long winter evenings spent with him in the taiga cabin fifty kilometers east of Chita, where I served for about fifteen years. Naturally, he talked a lot about his hunting luck, and there were many, depict the places where he had visited. And recalled the episodes, which said hunting does not tolerate laxity, loss of care, hope for a “maybe”. Some of them want to talk to the “hunter” in the hope that they will learn something readers.
In the Trans-Baikal widespread hunting solonetzes, both natural and artificial. Trophy here could become a hare, musk deer, roe deer … But the main object of hunting solonetzes – red deer, decoration transbaikalian and the Far Eastern taiga, one of the subspecies of red deer, admired for its beauty. Meat wapiti belong among the delicacies that have supposedly miraculous life-giving force.
Beasts visit salt licks all year, eating in many years, a huge pit.
I have seen traces of their “stolovaniya” in the form of irregularly shaped craters up to a meter deep and three to four in diameter.
I do not just sit on solonetz, sometimes awake until morning. But luck smiled at me only once. It happened forty years ago, when the license for elk was much easier to obtain. Red deer came after midnight, when it went any hope of success. There was a completely unexpected as a ghost. Despite the total darkness, I saw him clearly, thanks to the correct location for the solonetz. Solonet located on a hill. And the ambush was twenty meters down the raspadku – so in our area called the Valley on the slopes of the ridges.
Throughout his life will remain in my memory long winter evenings spent with him in the taiga cabin fifty kilometers east of Chita, where I served for about fifteen years. Photo: Fotolia.com
Red deer usually come from the tops. Whether a person above the solonetz animal necessarily scented him, though when it gets lower, there is no guarantee that its “flavor” does not scare the beast. Especially delicate smell alcohol on him, the smell of tobacco in the fuel and lubricants, gets on your clothing. All this should take account of the hunter and, of course, gain endurance, patience. Immutable rules for hunting solonetzes – shoot only clearly visible target. After accidentally enter the solonets can pet and even people.
… In buddy-in-law – Michael, who lived in the taiga village not far from Chita was a great work horse named Gray, given to him for the same color. Konyaga was trouble-free, and in a team, and horseback riding. For the racetrack, he clearly was not fit, and in the economic, hunting affairs served as master faithfully.
In the autumn evening Michael Gray saddled to ride it on solonetz. Approaching to the hunting area about a kilometer, a rider stopped at a large glade, and as he did many times, took off the saddle horse, hobbled and let graze. The horse never leaves the field, perhaps because of the instinct of self-preservation, in the open it would be easier to fight off the attack of a predator. Gray apparently did not know that wolves in those places was not found, and the lynx, living there, it is not too tough.
Solontsov nightfall approaching, Michael considered the fresh tracks in the sand red deer. In his breast it stirred exciting feeling: success is possible. Ambush he equipped a few years ago, with the rosemary bush, under a large spreading pine. I make a well for the legs to sit comfortably, leaning back against a tree.
Sitting comfortably on the usual place, putting on a stick in front of tulkus flyer tested with two bullet cartridges in the barrels, Michael waited. Waiting could last an hour, two, three … The greater the supply of patience, the more likely success.
Twilight replaced by total darkness. There were moments when a branch on the tree next door to Solontsov perceived by the horns with bated elk. But like the head and displayed due to the trunk. Beginning overcome sleepiness. Michael held his last legs, but did not leave the ambush. A dream meanwhile prevailed stronger.
In the Trans-Baikal widespread hunting solonetzes, both natural and artificial. Trophy here could become a hare, musk deer, roe … Photo: Fotolia.com
“It does not matter if I lose a minute or two, – he consoled himself a hunter – it has happened like this: opened his eyes, and red deer is like in the picture.”
And he desired moment – on the sky background silhouette of the animal. Michael leads the trunks under the shoulder blade, push the trigger. Silhouette disappears. Came the muffled sound of hooves on the ground.
Hunter includes a flashlight, rises to Solontsov. My heart shudders. On the ground is his favorite, loyal assistant – Grey. It happened irreparable: horse, breaking his “commandment”, left the clearing started solonets perhaps sensing the smell of salt. Falling asleep at some not heard Michael gait hobbled horse …
It was inconsolable grief of the old hunter. Pavel Ivanovich told me that every time Michael Gray recalled, it breaks through a tear, and he cursed himself most dirty word.
Beating the guranom
This story Pavel Ivanovich said shortly after the fishing trip in the Onon – a beautiful river in the south of the Chita region. She began taking in Mongolia, and in the eastern part of the Trans-Baikal, merging with Ingoda forms a powerful Shilka. Last connecting to the Argun, Amur gives birth, which rolls its waters to the Pacific Ocean.
In the village of Lower Tsasuchei old friend of his grandfather Gregory, is not fond of fishing, brought him down with an expert river, Vladimir.
He was a tall, well-built man in his fifties. They are with the father got into a boat and sail to one of the duct where the carp were carried out, the horses (a fish similar to carp, outwardly differing only in the shape of the lips that resemble horse). Vladimir easily and naturally drove a boat with six. Pavel Ivanovich was evident that both hands brush his partner were thickly covered with deep scars. We felt for a long time. And that’s what he said in response to a question about the origin of his grandfather scars.
… It happened in late autumn ’46. I held at that time in gerbils, near Chita, where, incidentally, in the early thirties served Leonid Brezhnev. Time was, of course, difficult. There were problems with food for the troops. To the soldier’s diet was a better command of the natives decided to create a Trans-engaged before hunting, a small team for bushmeat. Animals in the surrounding woods were carried out – mainly deer, but if you delve into the forest, it can be found, and red deer.
They gave us a cavalry carbine – a shortened version of trehlineyki with the same powerful patron. By the way, an excellent weapon. I would now bringing to choose, would prefer it to all the other samples rifle.
In total there were five crew people. Having the eve of some snacks, we went early in the morning into the forest, each on their routes. Taiga in our region – it is mainly woodland. Terrain crossed: low ridges between paddy (wide valleys), gully. Snow has not dropped. Pass twenty kilometers per day is not difficult.
But the further away from its military town, the more exhausting if dobudesh deer, with a heavy knapsack on his back. But man, I was strong, wiry, and the right say its burden does not pull. A vanity, like all young, I was not free. Soul warmed possible future pattern: come into the dining room, each of the company provide for a reputable piece of meat and say, “Volodya say” thank you “, he’s brought you a gift from the forest.”
The first day was the best for me. About an hour later, I entered the forest, five hundred meters saw three deer. Began to conceal them, ie approach of the hollow, hiding behind the bushes of wild rosemary. Managed. Shot for a hundred meters. One immediately dropped. Others disappeared instantly. The first trophy was the adult female, the meat of which, in the opinion of experts, much tastier than the male. Before the army I had no time to butcher deer, skinned so that production no more than half an hour. Refreshment roasted over a fire slices of liver and started back, feeling like a hero: that’s the guys will be happy doppaykom! The soul rejoiced, and the fact that I came into contact with the things you love, to breathe the air of the taiga. And this is after the monotony of barracks – a great blessing.
Then one day I go down the slope of the ridge, which is the most advantageous route a review. It can be seen – that the front, above and below. I can see a hundred and fifty meters is huge Gora (common in Eastern Siberia and the Far East, the name of the male deer). I put the barrel of the rifle on bipod shooting. Guran falls threw himself. Not even drygnulsya. I went, leaning against a tree shotgun and head to the extraction.
Suddenly Guran instantly jumps up and head down, exposing sharp as an awl, horns, thrown at me. There is no doubt: have ripped my stomach for sure. Rescued skill, managed to grab it with both hands by the horns. The battle is truly a life-and-death.
His head throbbed thought not hold, zaporet. Such cases have been in my memory. I am trying to bring down the beast to free one arm and pull out of his boot knife. I can not overcome. And then he began to throw Guran unthinkable caper: I still wonder how it is (guess) to do it. Prognuvshis arc as cool acrobat was the hooves of the hind legs scrape on my hands. Alternatively: the one, then the other. Krovischa flowing patches of skin hang out, but do not let go, hold on. I feel the beast began exhausting. I shake it to the ground below. Eventually he contrived, pushed and managed to grab the knife.
With spent a month in hospital. Young was all overgrown, like a dog. And the scars on your hands. But it is not terrible, they say, even, they give me more courage. A fight that I remember for a lifetime. After to anyone, even to the recumbent dead beast I come up with a gun at the ready.
– And what about the fishing, it turned out? – I asked in-law, when he finished the story of that battle in the forest.
– Vladimir was a big spices and in this respect, – said Pavel Ivanovich. – We caught carp, and horses, and even a trout …
Gennady KASHUBA9 December 2012 at 14:40