And at night, hares scamper through the snow, small fur-bearing animals scurry about - it’s time for them to go for a walk.
Askyr greeted spring cheerfully.
He left the cold stone scattering, carefully made his way through a chain of traps hidden under the snow and went into the taiga. Here he wandered, spending the night wherever he had to. He scoured the mountains and valleys in search of prey, never missing an opportunity to fight with an oncoming sable.
The beast in the taiga has definitely gone crazy. All ordinary laws were forgotten, all boundaries were violated, everyone ran wherever he wanted, everyone constantly changed places. And as soon as the sable found a narrow path trodden in the snow by another sable, he forgot both hunting and fighting and ran along the tracks until he overtook his opponent.
This happened with Askyr.
He was sneaking after a hare, and suddenly the trail of another sable crossed his path. Askyr immediately forgot his hunger, forgot the hare and rushed after the trail.
Sable ran here many hours ago. He should be far away from here now. But what are a few hours of racing for the young, strong Askyr!
With light, wide leaps he rushed forward and forward. The path, traveling through the taiga, rose higher and higher into the mountain.
Well-known places flashed before Askyr - a pure cedar forest, where he had hunted more than once, descending from the placer. Here he knew all the nooks and crannies and could find the sable no matter where she hid.
But no, - the trail came out of the cedar tree, a narrow path wound and wound upward along the snowy plain. The sun has long risen over the squirrel.
With each jump, the sable's trail smelled stronger and stronger - he was close.
"Zenn!" - the steel jaws clinked, jumping out from under the snow. Askyr’s flexible body jumped high and thrashed, thrashed, and splashed through the loose snow.
The bones of both of Askyr's front paws were crushed into small pieces. The white mitten on the left turned red with blood. He squirmed in pain and tried to pull his paws out, madly gnawing the cold steel with his teeth.
It was all in vain: the steel vice held him tight. He didn't even hear a man approach him from behind.
A hand in a thick mitten grabbed him and squeezed his chest. Askyr rushed, his teeth unclenched, a long spasm ran undulatingly through the thick fur, from head to tail. The eyes went dark.
Askyr fell silent.
Ready! - Stepan said out loud.
He still could not believe that Askyr, the precious black sable, was in his hands.
He was unlucky lately. Four sables fell into his traps. One of them was killed by a raven, the other was chewed up by mice before Stepan found them.
Ipat has been nagging Stepan lately. He was not in a good mood: three weeks had already passed since they returned from One-Eye, and Pockmarked had not yet returned from the village. Ipat took out his frustration on Stepan, forcing him to set and check his traps for Ryaby, leaving him to guard the camp. Stepan had less and less time for his hunt, and therefore less hope of catching Askyr.
And now Askyr is in his hands.
Now Stepan is rich, he can finally escape from the deep well of the hated Sayans and go to Moscow. He will give the owner four sables caught during the winter, and two now - in the spring - and will settle accounts with him.
He collected all his traps and returned to the camp.
Spring has already overcome winter. The river broke the ice. The water began to play, flowed into the holes, and the shivers began to hum. On the fast riffles, diving ducks appeared out of nowhere - motley goldeneyes, narrow-nosed mergansers.
In the taiga, blackbirds whistled over the still-unmelted snow. Bears crawled out of their dens, striped chipmunks scurried under the trees. Fur-bearing animals “wiped themselves out” - they changed their lush winter coats to thin summer fur.
Axes began to clatter at Kabarochy Vostryaki - the hunters were making boats for themselves. The freckle is over.
The hunt was successful. Heated up in the spring, the animal walked blindly into the traps. Only one thing worried the hunters: Ryaboy never returned from the village.
They tarred the boats, loaded up and set off.
The familiar path again flashed before Stepan’s eyes. For the sixth time in six months, the same road unfolded before him, now playing with swells, now covered with ice and covered with sticky snow.
“Well, at least you didn’t drink my sweat for nothing,” thought Stepan. “There will be something to remember her in Moscow.”
Rocks, taiga, mountains fled back. And it seemed to him that he was flying, flying upward - out of a deep dark well.
They stopped for the night before dark in front of the ridge where he first saw One-Eye. Stepan deliberately moved away from the camp to look at those places where he was almost dragged into the seething stream.
Near the shore, under a black rock, there was still deep snow. In one place it was on fire, and something dark was sticking out of the white hole.
Stepan came closer and saw a human hand sticking out of the snow. The hand was frozen, and the fingers on it were curled.
Stepan shouted. Ipat and Red came up. The three of the hunters quickly dug out the snow with their hands and feet - and pulled out the corpse.
In front of them lay dead Pockmarked. A bullet pierced the back of his head. Brown hair turned brown. The crumbs where the sable skins lay disappeared from his back.
That’s it... - Ipat whispered and frowned.
When they lifted the corpse to take it to the boat, Stepan turned to the rock for the last time. After all, the corpse lay facing the river. This means that only a bullet from a cliff could have hit him in the back of the head.
There was no one on the black rock. Only a juniper bush stuck out.
A terrible guess flashed through Stepan’s head: One-Eye was often watching here with a gun in his hands. Many sable keepers, loaded with expensive furs, hurried past him along this road. The sharp eye aimed at their back.
Stepan told Ipat how he dreamed of One-Eyed’s head on a rock in the fall.
Ipat listened silently and sat silently by the fire all night. And in the morning he climbed the rock and disappeared there for an hour.
When he returned, he and Red whispered for a long time about something.
Then the hunters again sat down on the boats and arrived at their village by sunset. Soon the village learned that One-Eye had been killed.
That same summer, Stepan sold the black Askyr and left with his wife for Moscow.
1926
ON THE TRAILS
Egorka is bored in the hut all day. He looks out the window: there is white all around. The forester's hut was covered with snow. The forest stands white.
Egorka knows a clearing in the forest. Oh, what a place! No matter how you come, a flock of partridges will disappear from under your feet. Frrr! Frrr! - in all directions. Just shoot!
What partridges! The hares there are healthy! And the other day Yegorka saw another footprint in the clearing - no one knows whose. It will be like a fox, and the claws are straight and long.
If only I could follow the trail of this strange beast myself! This is not your hare! Even the guy will praise this.
Egorka caught fire - now run into the forest!
Father is hemming felt boots at the window.
Yay, oh yeah!
What do you want?
Let me go into the forest to shoot partridges!
Look, what did you think of, looking at night!
Let me go, daddy! - Egorka drawls plaintively.
The father is silent; Yegorka's spirit took away - oh, he won't let me in!
The forester doesn’t like the boy to be idle. And even then I can say: hunting is worse than bondage. Why shouldn't the boy take a break? Everything is in the hut and in the hut...
Go now! Look, look back before dusk. Otherwise, my punishment is short: I’ll take away the fusée and fasten it with a belt.
A fusee is a gun. Egorka has his own, even though the boy is fourteen years old. My father brought it from the city. Single-barreled, called Berdana. You can kill both birds and animals with it. Nice gun.
Father knows: Berdana is the first thing in the world for Yegorka. Threaten to take it away - he will do anything.
“I’ll turn around in a second,” Egorka promises. He himself had already put on his sheepskin coat and pulled the Berdanka off the nail.
That's it, I'll turn around! - the father grumbles. - See, at night wolves howl all around. Look at me!
And Yegorka is no longer in the hut. He jumped out into the yard, put his skis on, and headed into the forest.
The forester put down his boots. I took an ax and went into the barn to repair the sled.
It was getting dark. The old man finished hammering with the ax.
Egorka is bored in the hut all day. He looks out the window: there is white all around. The forester's hut was covered with snow. The forest stands white.
Egorka knows a clearing in the forest. Oh, what a place! No matter how you come, a flock of partridges will appear from under your feet. Frrr! Frrr! - in all directions. Just shoot!
What partridges! The hares there are healthy! And the other day Yegorka saw another footprint in the clearing - no one knows whose. It will be like a fox, and the claws are straight and long.
I wish I could follow the trail of this strange animal myself. This is not your hare! Even the guy will praise this.
Yegorka caught fire: now run into the forest!
Father is hemming felted boots at the window.
- Yes, yes!
- What do you want?
- Let me go into the forest to shoot partridges!
- Look, what are you thinking, looking at night!
- Let me go, daddy! - Egorka drawls plaintively.
The father is silent; Yegorka's spirit took away - oh, he won't let me in!
The forester doesn’t like to see the boy lying around doing nothing. And even then I can say: hunting is worse than bondage. Why doesn't the boy warm up? Everything is in the hut and in the hut...
- Go now! Just make sure it's back before dusk. Otherwise, my punishment is short: I’ll take away the fusée and fasten it with a belt.
A fusee is a gun. Egorka has his own, even though the boy is fourteen years old. My father brought it from the city. Single-barreled, called Berdana. You can kill both birds and animals with it. A good gun.
Father knows: Berdana is the first thing in the world for Yegorka. Threaten to take it away - he will do anything.
“I’ll turn around in a second,” Egorka promises. He himself had already put on his sheepskin coat and pulled the Berdanka off the nail.
- That's it, I'll turn around! - the father grumbles. - See, at night wolves howl all around. Look at me!
And Yegorka is no longer in the hut. He jumped out into the yard, put his skis on, and headed into the forest.
The forester put down his boots. I took an ax and went into the barn to repair the sled.
It was getting dark. The old man finished hammering with the ax.
It's time for dinner, but the boy is not there.
You could hear him firing three times. And since then nothing.
More time has passed. The forester went into the hut, adjusted the wick in the lamp, and lit it. He took the pot of porridge out of the oven.
Yegorka is still missing. And where did he go, you bastard?
Ate. He went out onto the porch.
The darkness is impenetrable.
I listened and heard nothing.
The wood is black and will not crack with a branch. It’s quiet, but who knows what’s in it?
- Whoa-whoa!..
The forester shuddered. Or did it seem? From the forest again:
- Whoa-whoa!..
That's right, wolf! Another one picked it up, a third one... a whole flock!
There was a sinking feeling in my chest: it must be that animals were on Yegorka’s trail!
- Woo-woo-oo!..
The forester jumped into the hut and ran out with a double-barreled shotgun in his hands. He raised it to his shoulder, fire blazed from the muzzles, and shots rang out.
Wolves are worse. The forester is listening: will Egorka respond somewhere?
And then from the forest, from the darkness, faintly, faintly: “boom!”
The forester took off from his place, the gun behind his back, tied up his skis - and into the darkness, to where Yegorkin’s shot came from.
Darkness in the forest - at least cry! Spruce paws grab your clothes and prick your face. The trees are a dense wall - you can’t get through it.
And there are wolves ahead. They say in a voice:
- Woo-oooooo!..
The forester stopped; fired again.
No answer. Only wolves.
Bad deal!
Again he began to push through the thicket. He followed the wolf's voice.
I just had time to think: “They’re howling, which means they haven’t gotten there yet...” Then the howl suddenly stopped. It became quiet.
The forester walked further forward and stood.
Shot. Then more. I listened for a long time.
It's so quiet it really hurts my ears.
Where will you go? Dark. But we have to go.
He moved at random. Every step gets thicker.
He shot and shouted. Nobody answers.
And again, without knowing where, he walked and made his way through the forest.
Finally, I was completely exhausted, hoarse from screaming.
He stopped and didn’t know where to go: he had long ago lost which way the house was.
I looked closer: like a light coming from behind the trees? Or are those wolf eyes shining?
Walked straight into the light. Came out of the forest: clean place, in the middle of it is a hut. There is light in the window.
The forester looks and can’t believe his eyes: he has his own hut!
The circle, then, took place in the dark through the forest.
In the yard he fired again.
No answer. And the wolves are silent, they don’t howl. Apparently they are dividing the spoils.
The boy is missing!
The forester took off his skis and went into the hut. In the hut, he didn’t take off his sheepskin coat and sat down on a bench. He dropped his head into his hands and froze.
The lamp on the table began to smoke, flickered and went out. The forester didn't notice.
The light outside the window turned dim.
The forester stood up. He became terrible: overnight he grew old and hunched over.
He put a piece of bread in his bosom, took the cartridges, and the gun.
I went out into the yard - it was light. The snow is glistening.
From the gate, two furrows from Yegorka’s skis stretch across the snow.
The forester looked and waved his hand. I thought: “If only there was a moon at night, maybe I would have found the boy along the white trail. Let's go and collect some bones! And then this happens! - maybe he’s still alive?..”
I adjusted my skis and ran along the trail.
The furrows turned to the left and led along the edge of the forest.
The forester runs along them, searching through the snow with his eyes. Does not allow a trace or a scratch to pass through. Reads in the snow as if from a book.
And in that book everything that happened to Yegorka during the night is written down.
The forester looks at the snow and understands everything: where Yegorka went and what he did.
There was a boy running along the edge of the forest. To the side in the snow there are crosses of thin bird fingers and sharp feathers.
Forty, then, scared Yegor away. Magpies moused here: there were mouse loops all around.
Then he lifted the animal from the ground.
The squirrel was jumping on the crust. Her trace. Her hind legs are long - the trail from them is also long. The squirrel throws its hind legs forward over its front ones when it jumps on the ground. And the front legs are short, small - the trail from them is dotted.
The forester sees: Egorka drove the squirrel up a tree, and hit it there. He fell from a branch into the snow.
“Sharp kid!” - the forester thinks.
He looks: here Egorka picked up the prey and went further into the forest.
They circled and circled the tracks through the forest and led out to a large clearing.
In the clearing, Yegorka was apparently looking at the tracks of a hare - maliks.
The hares have traversed thickly: here they have loops and jumps. Only Egorka did not begin to unravel the hare’s tricks: the ski furrows go straight through the maliks.
Over there, the snow to the side is loosened, bird tracks and a burnt wad in the snow.
Partridges are white. A whole flock slept here, buried in the snow.
The birds heard Egorka and flew up. And he blurted out. Everyone flew away; one spluttered. You can see how she struggled in the snow.
Eh, the dashing hunter grew up: he killed a bird on the fly! He can even fight off wolves, but he won’t give them a blow in the teeth.
The forester hurried on, his legs running and keeping up.
I led the trail to the bush - and stop!
What kind of goblin is this?
Egorka stopped behind a bush, pushed his skis in place, bent down, and threw his hand into the snow. And he ran to the side.
The trail stretches straight for about forty meters, and then he began to wander around. Hey, there are animal tracks here! The size of a fox, and with claws...
What a curiosity? Such a trace has not been seen for a long time: the paw is not large, but the claws are about an inch long, straight, like nails!
Blood on the snow: the beast moved on in three. The right one, the front one, Egorka hit him with a charge.
He drives through the bushes, chasing the beast.
Where was the boy tossing and turning home: would a hunter abandon a wounded animal?
But what kind of animal is this? Painfully healthy claws! They'll hit you in the stomach like that from behind a bush... The boy needs a lot!
The ski trail goes deeper and deeper into the forest - through the bushes, past stumps, around trees fallen by the wind. If you hit a snag, you'll break your ski!
Eh, yellow-mouthed! Does it save charge? This is the place - behind the uprooted roots - and would finish off the beast. There is nowhere for him to go here.
Will you take it with your hands soon? Go to him, to the wounded man! An angry hamster won’t even be able to be picked up, but this animal is apparently heavy: it makes deep holes in the snow.
But what is this: it’s not snowing? Now the trouble is: it will leave a trace, then what to do?
I'm on my way! I'm on my way!
An animal trail circles and travels through the forest, followed by a ski track. There's no end in sight.
And the snow is thicker, thicker.
There is a gap ahead. The forest became sparse and wide-trunked. Here the tracks are soon covered up, they are becoming worse to see, and more difficult to make out.
Finally: Egorka caught up with the beast here! The snow has been crushed, there is blood on it, gray coarse fur.
You need to look at the fur to see what kind of animal it is. But somehow something was wrong here... The boy fell on both knees in the snow...
What's sticking out there ahead?
Ski! Another one! Narrow deep holes in the snow: Egorka was running, fell through...
And suddenly - in front, on the right, on the left, across - large, like dog tracks.
Wolves! Overtaken, damned ones!
The forester stopped: his right ski ran into something hard.
I looked: Egorkina was lying in the berdan.
So that's it! The leader grabbed him by the throat with a death grip, the boy dropped the gun from his hands, and then the whole flock arrived...
End! The forester looked ahead: at least he could pick up a scrap of clothing!
It was as if a gray shadow flashed behind the trees. And now from there came a dull growl and yelp, as if dogs were grappling.
The forester straightened up, pulled the gun off his shoulder, and rushed forward.
Behind the trees, above a pile of bloody bones, two wolves stood with their teeth bared and their fur raised. There were several more lying around and sitting...
The forester screamed terribly and, without aiming, fired from both trunks at once.
The gun hit him hard on the shoulder. He swayed and fell to his knees in the snow.
When the gunpowder smoke cleared, the wolves were no longer there.
My ears were ringing from the shot. And through the ringing he heard Yegorka’s plaintive voice: “Damn!”
For some reason the forester took off his hat. Snow flakes fell on my eyelashes, making it difficult to see.
“Damn!..” Yegorka’s quiet voice seemed so clear again.
- Yegorushka! - the forester groaned.
- Take it off, daddy!
The forester jumped up in fear and turned around... On the branch of a large tree, with his arms wrapped around a thick trunk, sat a living Yegorka.
- Son! - the forester screamed and rushed to the tree without memory.
The numb Yegorka fell like a bag into his father’s arms.
The forester rushed home in spirit with Egorka on his back. Only once did he have to stop - Egorka stood there and babbled one thing:
- Hey, pick up my berdan, berdan...
The fire was burning hot in the oven. Egorka was lying on a bench under a heavy sheepskin. His eyes sparkled, his body was on fire.
The forester sat at his feet, feeding him hot tea from a saucer.
“I hear the wolves are close,” Yegorka said. - I got lost! He dropped his gun, his skis got stuck in the snow, and he threw it away. I climbed the first tree - they were already there. They jump, cursed, click their teeth, they want to get me. Wow, that’s scary, daddy!
- Shut up, son, shut up, darling! Tell me, shooter, what kind of animal did you hit?
- And the badger, daddy! A healthy badger is like your pig. Have you seen claws?
- Badger, you say? And I have no idea. And it’s true: his paw is clawed. Look, I got out into the thaw, sleepy! He sleeps in the cold, rarely comes out in winter. Just wait - spring will come, I’ll show you his hole. Noble hole! There's no way a fox could dig one like that.
But I didn’t hear Yegorka anymore. His head fell to the side, his eyes closed on their own. He was sleeping.
The forester took the saucer from his hands, covered his son tightly with the sheepskin and looked out the window.
A snowstorm was blowing outside the window. She poured, sprinkled and swirled white light flakes in the air - she covered up the tangled forest tracks.
Egorka is bored in the hut all day. He looks out the window: there is white all around. The forester's hut was covered with snow. The forest stands white.
Egorka knows a clearing in the forest. Oh, what a place! No matter how you come, a flock of partridges will appear from under your feet. Frrr! Frrr! - in all directions. Just shoot!
What partridges! The hares there are healthy! And the other day Yegorka saw another footprint in the clearing - no one knows whose. It will be like a fox, and the claws are straight and long.
I wish I could follow the trail of this strange animal myself. This is not your hare! Even the guy will praise this.
Yegorka caught fire: now run into the forest!
Father is hemming felted boots at the window.
- Yes, yes!
- What do you want?
- Allow into the forest: partridges
shoot!
- Look, what are you thinking, looking at night!
- Let me go, daddy! - Egorka drawls plaintively.
The father is silent; Yegorka's spirit took away - oh, he won't let me in!
The forester doesn’t like the boy to be idle. And even then I can say: hunting is worse than bondage. Why can't the boy warm up? Everything is in the hut and in the hut...
- Go now! Just make sure it's back before dusk. Otherwise, my punishment is short: I’ll take away the fusée and fasten it with a belt.
A fusee is a gun. Egorka has his own, even though the boy is fourteen years old. My father brought it from the city. Single-barreled, called Berdana. You can kill both birds and animals with it. A good gun.
Father knows: Berdana is the first thing in the world for Yegorka. Threaten to take it away - he will do anything.
“I’ll turn around in a second,” Egorka promises. He himself had already put on his sheepskin coat and pulled the Berdanka off the nail.
- That's it, I'll turn around! - the father grumbles. - See, at night wolves howl all around. Look at me!
And Yegorka is no longer in the hut. He jumped out into the yard, put his skis on, and headed into the forest.
The forester put down his boots. I took an ax and went into the barn to repair the sled.
It was getting dark. The old man finished hammering with the ax.
It's time for dinner, but the boy is not there.
You could hear him firing three times. And since then nothing.
More time has passed. The forester went into the hut, adjusted the wick in the lamp, and lit it. He took the pot of porridge out of the oven.
Yegorka is still missing. And where did he go, you bastard?
Ate. He went out onto the porch.
The darkness is impenetrable.
I listened and heard nothing.
The wood is black and will not crack with a branch. It’s quiet, but who knows what’s in it?
- Whoa-whoa!..
The forester shuddered. Or did it seem? From the forest again:
- Whoa-whoa!..
That's right, wolf! Another picked it up, a third... a whole flock!
There was a sinking feeling in my chest: it must be that animals were on Yegorka’s trail!
- Woo-woo-oo!..
The forester jumped into the hut and ran out with a double-barreled shotgun in his hands. He raised it to his shoulder, fire blazed from the muzzles, and shots rang out.
Wolves are worse. The forester is listening: will Egorka respond somewhere?
And then from the forest, from the darkness, faintly, faintly: “boom!”
The forester took off from his place, the gun behind his back, tied up his skis - and into the darkness, to where Yegorkin’s shot came from.
Darkness in the forest - at least cry! Spruce paws grab your clothes and prick your face. The trees are a dense wall - you can’t get through it.
And there are wolves ahead. They say in a voice:
- Woo-oooooo!..
The forester stopped; fired again.
No answer. Only wolves.
Bad deal!
Again he began to push through the thicket. He followed the wolf's voice.
I just had time to think: “They’re howling, which means they haven’t gotten there yet...” Then the howl suddenly stopped. It became quiet.
The forester walked further forward and stood.
Shot. Then more. I listened for a long time.
It's so quiet it really hurts my ears.
Where will you go? Dark. But we have to go.
He moved at random. Every step gets thicker.
He shot and shouted. Nobody answers.
And again, without knowing where, he walked and made his way through the forest.
Finally, I was completely exhausted, hoarse from screaming.
He stopped and didn’t know where to go: he had long ago lost which way the house was.
I looked closer: like a light coming from behind the trees? Or are those wolf eyes shining?
Walked straight into the light. He came out of the forest: a clean place, in the middle of it was a hut. There is light in the window.
The forester looks and can’t believe his eyes: he has his own hut!
The circle, then, took place in the dark through the forest.
In the yard he fired again.
No answer. And the wolves are silent, they don’t howl. Apparently they are dividing the spoils.
The boy is missing!
The forester took off his skis and went into the hut. In the hut, he didn’t take off his sheepskin coat and sat down on a bench. He dropped his head into his hands and froze.
The lamp on the table began to smoke, flickered and went out. The forester didn't notice.
The light outside the window turned dim.
The forester stood up. He became terrible: overnight he grew old and hunched over.
He put a piece of bread in his bosom, took the cartridges, and the gun.
I went out into the yard - it was light. The snow is glistening.
From the gate, two furrows from Yegorka’s skis stretch across the snow.
The forester looked and waved his hand. I thought: “If only there was a moon at night, maybe I would have found the boy along the white trail. Let's go and collect some bones! And then this happens! - maybe he’s still alive?..”
I adjusted my skis and ran along the trail.
The furrows turned to the left and led along the edge of the forest.
The forester runs along them, searching through the snow with his eyes. Does not allow a trace or a scratch to pass through. Reads in the snow as if from a book.
And in that book everything that happened to Yegorka during the night is written down.
The forester looks at the snow and understands everything: where Yegorka went and what he did.
There was a boy running along the edge of the forest. To the side in the snow there are crosses of thin bird fingers and sharp feathers.
Forty, then, scared Yegor away. Magpies moused here: there were mouse loops all around.
Then he lifted the animal from the ground.
The squirrel was jumping on the crust. Her trace. Her hind legs are long - the trail from them is also long. The squirrel throws its hind legs forward over its front ones when it jumps on the ground. And the front legs are short, small - the trail from them is dotted.
The forester sees: Egorka drove the squirrel up a tree, and hit it there. He fell from a branch into the snow.
“Sharp kid!” - the forester thinks.
He looks: here Egorka picked up the prey and went further into the forest.
They circled and circled the tracks through the forest and led out to a large clearing.
In the clearing, Yegorka was apparently looking at the tracks of a hare - maliks.
The hares have traversed thickly: here they have loops and jumps. Only Egorka did not begin to unravel the hare’s tricks: the ski furrows go straight through the maliks.
Over there, the snow to the side is loosened, bird tracks and a burnt wad in the snow.
Partridges are white. A whole flock slept here, buried in the snow.
The birds heard Egorka and flew up. And he blurted out. Everyone flew away; one spluttered. You can see how she struggled in the snow.
Eh, the dashing hunter grew up: he killed a bird on the fly! He can even fight off wolves, but he won’t give them a blow in the teeth.
The forester hurried on, his legs running and keeping up.
I led the trail to the bush - and stop!
What kind of goblin is this?
Egorka stopped behind a bush, pushed his skis in place, bent down, and threw his hand into the snow. And he ran to the side.
The trail stretches straight for about forty meters, and then he began to wander around. Hey, there are animal tracks here! The size of a fox, and with claws...
What a curiosity? Such a trace has not been seen for a long time: the paw is not large, but the claws are about an inch long, straight, like nails!
Blood on the snow: the beast moved on in three. The right one, the front one, Egorka hit him with a charge.
He drives through the bushes, chasing the beast.
Where was the boy tossing and turning home: would a hunter abandon a wounded animal?
But what kind of animal is this? Painfully healthy claws! They'll hit you in the stomach like that from behind a bush... How much does a boy need!
The ski trail goes deeper and deeper into the forest - through the bushes, past stumps, around trees fallen by the wind. If you hit a snag, you'll break your ski!
Eh, yellow-mouthed! Does it save charge? This is the place - behind the uprooted roots - and would finish off the beast. There is nowhere for him to go here.
Will you take it with your hands soon? Go to him, to the wounded man! An angry hamster won’t even be able to be picked up, but this animal is apparently heavy: it makes deep holes in the snow.
But what is this: it’s not snowing? Now the trouble is: it will leave a trace, then what to do?
I'm on my way! I'm on my way!
An animal trail circles and travels through the forest, followed by a ski track. There's no end in sight.
And the snow is thicker, thicker.
There is a gap ahead. The forest became sparse and wide-trunked. Here the tracks are soon covered up, they are becoming worse to see, and more difficult to make out.
Finally: Egorka caught up with the beast here! The snow has been crushed, there is blood on it, gray coarse fur.
You need to look at the fur to see what kind of animal it is. Only something was wrong here... The boy fell on both knees in the snow...
What's sticking out there ahead?
Ski! Another one! Narrow deep holes in the snow: Egorka was running, fell through...
And suddenly - in front, on the right, on the left, across - large, like dog tracks.
Wolves! Overtaken, damned ones!
The forester stopped: his right ski ran into something hard.
I looked: Egorkina was lying in the berdan.
So that's it! The leader grabbed him by the throat with a death grip, the boy dropped the gun from his hands, and then the whole flock arrived...
End! The forester looked ahead: at least he could pick up a scrap of clothing!
It was as if a gray shadow flashed behind the trees. And now from there came a dull growl and yelp, as if dogs were grappling.
The forester straightened up, pulled the gun off his shoulder, and rushed forward.
Behind the trees, above a pile of bloody bones, two wolves stood with their teeth bared and their fur raised. There were several more lying around and sitting around...
The forester screamed terribly and, without aiming, fired from both trunks at once.
The gun hit him hard on the shoulder. He swayed and fell to his knees in the snow.
When the gunpowder smoke cleared, the wolves were no longer there.
My ears were ringing from the shot. And through the ringing he heard Yegorka’s plaintive voice: “Damn!”
For some reason the forester took off his hat. Snow flakes fell on my eyelashes, making it difficult to see.
“Damn!..” Yegorka’s quiet voice seemed so clear again.
- Yegorushka! - the forester groaned.
- Take it off, daddy!
The forester jumped up in fear and turned around... On the branch of a large tree, with his arms wrapped around a thick trunk, sat a living Yegorka.
- Son! - the forester screamed and rushed to the tree without memory.
The numb Yegorka fell like a bag into his father’s arms.
The forester rushed home in spirit with Egorka on his back. Only once did he have to stop - Egorka stood there and babbled one thing:
- Hey, pick up my berdan, berdan...
* * *
The fire was burning hot in the oven. Egorka was lying on a bench under a heavy sheepskin. His eyes sparkled, his body was on fire.
The forester sat at his feet, feeding him hot tea from a saucer.
“I hear the wolves are close,” Yegorka said. - I got lost! He dropped his gun, his skis got stuck in the snow, and he threw it away. I climbed the first tree - they were already there. They jump, cursed, click their teeth, they want to get me. Wow, that’s scary, daddy!
- Shut up, son, shut up, darling! Tell me, shooter, what kind of animal did you hit?
- And the badger, daddy! A healthy badger is like your pig. Have you seen claws?
- Badger, you say? And I have no idea. And it’s true: his paw is clawed. Look, I got out into the thaw, sleepy! He sleeps in the cold, rarely comes out in winter. Just wait - spring will come, I’ll show you his hole. Noble hole! There's no way a fox could dig one like that.
But I didn’t hear Yegorka anymore. His head fell to the side, his eyes closed on their own. He was sleeping.
The forester took the saucer from his hands, covered his son tightly with the sheepskin and looked out the window.
A snowstorm was blowing outside the window. She poured, sprinkled and swirled white light flakes in the air - she covered up the tangled forest tracks.
The story is required reading in second grade and is rare. Read it to your children.
Egorka is bored in the hut all day. He looks out the window: there is white all around. The forester's hut was covered with snow. The forest stands white.
Egorka knows a clearing in the forest. Oh, what a place! No matter how you come, a flock of partridges will appear from under your feet. Frrr! Frrr! - in all directions. Just shoot!
Why partridges! The hares there are healthy! And the other day Yegorka saw another footprint in the clearing - no one knows whose. It will be like a fox, and the claws are straight and long.
I wish I could follow the trail of this strange animal myself. This is not your hare! Even the guy will praise this.
Yegorka caught fire: now run into the forest!
Father is hemming felted boots at the window.
- Yes, yes!
- What do you want?
- Let me go into the forest to shoot partridges!
- Look, what are you thinking, looking at night!
- Let me go, daddy! - Egorka drawls plaintively.
The father is silent; Egorka's spirit took away - oh, he won't let me in!
The forester doesn’t like the boy to be idle. And even then I can say: hunting is worse than bondage. Why can't the boy warm up? Everything is in the hut and in the hut...
- Go now! Just make sure it's back before dusk. Otherwise, my punishment is short: I’ll take away the fusée and fasten it with a belt.
A fusee is a gun. Egorka has his own, even though the boy is fourteen years old. My father brought it from the city. Single-barreled, called Berdana. You can kill both birds and animals with it. A good gun.
Father knows: Berdana is the first thing in the world for Yegorka. Threaten to take it away - he will do anything.
“I’ll turn around in a moment,” Egorka promises. He himself had already put on his sheepskin coat and pulled the Berdanka off the nail.
- That's it, I'll turn around! - the father grumbles. - See, at night wolves howl all around. Look at me!
And Yegorka is no longer in the hut. He jumped out into the yard, put his skis on, and headed into the forest.
The forester put down his boots. I took an ax and went into the barn to repair the sleigh.
It was getting dark. The old man finished hammering with the ax.
It's time for dinner, but the boy is not there.
You could hear him firing three times. And since then nothing.
More time has passed. The forester went into the hut, adjusted the wick in the lamp, and lit it. He took the pot of porridge out of the oven.
Egorka is still missing. And where did he go, you bastard?
Ate. He went out onto the porch.
The darkness is impenetrable.
I listened and heard nothing.
The wood is black and will not crack with a branch. It’s quiet, but who knows what’s in it?
Wow-hoo!..
The forester shuddered. Or did it seem? From the forest again:
- Whoa-whoa!..
That's right, wolf! Another picked it up, a third... a whole flock!
There was a sinking feeling in my chest: it must be that animals were on Yegorka’s trail!
- Woo-woo-oo!..
The forester jumped into the hut and ran out with a double-barreled shotgun in his hands. He raised it to his shoulder, fire blazed from the muzzles, and shots rang out.
Wolves are worse. The forester is listening: will Egorka respond somewhere?
And then from the forest, from the darkness, faintly, faintly: “boom!”
The forester took off from his place, the gun behind his back, tied up his skis - and into the darkness, to where Yegorkin’s shot came from.
Darkness in the forest - at least cry! Spruce paws grab your clothes and prick your face. The trees are a dense wall - you can’t get through it.
And there are wolves ahead. They say in a voice:
- Woo-oooooo!..
The forester stopped; fired again.
No answer. Only wolves.
Bad deal!
Again he began to push through the thicket. He followed the wolf's voice.
I just had time to think: “They’re howling, which means they haven’t gotten there yet...” Then the howl suddenly stopped. It became quiet.
The forester walked further forward and stood.
Shot. Then more. I listened for a long time.
It's so quiet it really hurts my ears.
Where will you go? Dark. But we have to go.
He moved at random. Every step gets thicker.
He shot and shouted. Nobody answers.
And again, without knowing where, he walked and made his way through the forest.
Finally, I was completely exhausted, hoarse from screaming.
He stopped and didn’t know where to go: he had long ago lost which way the house was.
I looked closer: like a light coming from behind the trees? Or are those wolf eyes shining?
Walked straight into the light. He came out of the forest: a clean place, in the middle of it was a hut. There is light in the window.
The forester looks and can’t believe his eyes: he has his own hut!
The circle, then, took place in the dark through the forest.
In the yard he fired again.
No answer. And the wolves are silent, they don’t howl. Apparently they are dividing the spoils.
The boy is missing!
The forester took off his skis and went into the hut. In the hut, he didn’t take off his sheepskin coat and sat down on a bench. He dropped his head into his hands and froze.
The lamp on the table began to smoke, flickered and went out. The forester didn't notice.
The light outside the window turned dim.
The forester stood up. He became terrible: overnight he grew old and hunched over.
He put a piece of bread in his bosom, took the cartridges, and the gun.
I went out into the yard - it was light. The snow is glistening.
From the gate, two furrows from Yegorka’s skis stretch across the snow.
The forester looked and waved his hand. I thought: “If only there was a moon at night, maybe I would have found the boy along the white trail. Let's go and collect some bones! And then this happens! - maybe he’s still alive?..”
I adjusted my skis and ran along the trail.
The furrows turned left and led along the edge of the forest.
The forester runs along them, searching through the snow with his eyes. Does not allow a trace or a scratch to pass through. Reads in the snow as if from a book.
And in that book everything that happened to Yegorka during the night is written down.
The forester looks at the snow and understands everything: where Yegorka went and what he did.
There was a boy running along the edge of the forest. To the side in the snow there are crosses of thin bird fingers and sharp feathers.
Forty, then, scared Yegor away. Magpies moused here: there were mouse loops all around.
Then he lifted the animal from the ground.
The squirrel was jumping on the crust. Her trace. Her hind legs are long - the trail from them is also long. The squirrel throws its hind legs forward over its front ones when it jumps on the ground. And the front legs are short, small - the trail from them is dotted.
The forester sees: Egorka drove the squirrel up a tree, and hit it there. He fell from a branch into the snow.
“Sharp kid!” - the forester thinks.
He looks: here Egorka picked up the prey and went further into the forest.
They circled and circled the tracks through the forest and led out to a large clearing.
In the clearing, Yegorka was apparently looking at the tracks of a hare - maliks.
The hares have traversed thickly: here they have loops and jumps. Only Egorka did not begin to unravel the hare’s tricks: the ski furrows go straight through the maliks.
Over there, the snow to the side is loosened, bird tracks and a burnt wad in the snow.
Partridges are white. A whole flock slept here, buried in the snow.
The birds heard Egorka and flew up. And he blurted out. Everyone flew away; one spluttered. You can see how she struggled in the snow.
Eh, the dashing hunter grew up: he killed a bird on the fly! He can even fight off wolves, but he won’t give them a blow in the teeth.
The forester hurried on, his legs running and keeping up.
I led the trail to the bush - and stop!
What kind of goblin is this?
Egorka stopped behind a bush, pushed his skis in place, bent down, and threw his hand into the snow. And he ran to the side.
The trail stretches straight for about forty meters, and then he began to wander around. Hey, there are animal tracks here! The size of a fox, and with claws...
What a curiosity? Such a trace has not been seen for a long time: the paw is not large, but the claws are about an inch long, straight, like nails!
Blood on the snow: the beast moved on in three. The right one, the front one, Egorka hit him with a charge.
He drives through the bushes, chasing the beast.
Where was the boy tossing and turning home: would a hunter abandon a wounded animal?
But what kind of animal is this? Painfully healthy claws! They'll hit you in the stomach like that from behind a bush... How much does a boy need!
The ski trail goes deeper and deeper into the forest - through the bushes, past stumps, around trees fallen by the wind. If you hit a snag, you'll break your ski!
Eh, yellow-mouthed! Does it save charge? This is the place - behind the uprooted roots - and would finish off the beast. There is nowhere for him to go here.
Will you take it with your hands soon? Go to him, to the wounded man! An angry hamster won’t even be able to be picked up, but this animal is apparently heavy: it makes deep holes in the snow.
But what is this: it’s not snowing? Now the trouble is: it will leave a trace, then what to do?
I'm on my way! I'm on my way!
An animal trail circles and travels through the forest, followed by a ski track. There's no end in sight.
And the snow is thicker, thicker.
There is a gap ahead. The forest became sparse and wide-trunked. Here the tracks are soon covered up, they are becoming worse to see, more difficult to make out.
Finally: Egorka caught up with the beast here! The snow has been crushed, there is blood on it, gray coarse fur.
You need to look at the fur to see what kind of animal it is. Only something was wrong here... The boy fell on both knees in the snow...
What's sticking out there ahead?
Ski! Another one! Narrow deep holes in the snow: Egorka was running, fell through...
And suddenly - in front, on the right, on the left, across - large, like dog tracks.
Wolves! Overtaken, damned ones!
The forester stopped: his right ski ran into something hard.
I looked: Egorkina was lying in the berdan.
So that's it! The leader grabbed him by the throat with a death grip, the boy dropped the gun from his hands, and then the whole flock arrived...
End! The forester looked ahead: at least pick up a scrap of clothing!
It was as if a gray shadow flashed behind the trees. And now from there came a dull growl and yelp, as if dogs were grappling.
The forester straightened up, pulled the gun off his shoulder, and rushed forward.
Behind the trees, above a pile of bloody bones, two wolves stood with their teeth bared and their fur raised. There were several more lying around and sitting around...
The forester screamed terribly and, without aiming, fired from both trunks at once.
The gun hit him hard on the shoulder. He swayed and fell to his knees in the snow.
When the gunpowder smoke cleared, the wolves were no longer there.
My ears were ringing from the shot. And through the ringing he heard Yegorka’s plaintive voice: “Damn!”
For some reason the forester took off his hat. Snow flakes fell on my eyelashes, making it difficult to see.
“Damn!..” Yegorka’s quiet voice seemed so clear again.
- Yegorushka! - the forester groaned.
- Take it off, daddy!
The forester jumped up in fear and turned around... On the branch of a large tree, with his arms wrapped around a thick trunk, sat a living Yegorka.
- Son! - the forester screamed and rushed to the tree without memory.
The numb Yegorka fell like a bag into his father’s arms.
The forester rushed home in spirit with Egorka on his back. Only once did he have to stop - Egorka stood there and babbled one thing:
- Hey, pick up my berdan, berdan...
* * *
The fire was burning hot in the oven. Egorka was lying on a bench under a heavy sheepskin. His eyes sparkled, his body was on fire.
The forester sat at his feet, feeding him hot tea from a saucer.
“I hear the wolves are close,” Yegorka said. - I got lost! He dropped his gun, his skis got stuck in the snow, and he threw it away. I climbed the first tree - they were already there. They jump, cursed, click their teeth, they want to get me. Wow, that’s scary, daddy!
- Shut up, son, shut up, darling! Tell me, shooter, what kind of animal did you hit?
- And the badger, daddy! A healthy badger is like your pig. Have you seen claws?
Badger, you say? And I have no idea. And it’s true: his paw is clawed. Look, I got out into the thaw, sleepy! He sleeps in the cold, rarely comes out in winter. Just wait - spring will come, I’ll show you his hole. Noble hole! There's no way a fox could dig one like that.
But I didn’t hear Yegorka anymore. His head fell to the side, his eyes closed on their own. He was sleeping.
The forester took the saucer from his hands, covered his son tightly with the sheepskin and looked out the window.
A snowstorm was blowing outside the window. She poured, sprinkled and swirled white light flakes in the air - she covered up the tangled forest tracks.
***
Questions and answers about the story
What do you think was the main idea that Vitaly Bianchi wanted to express in his story? (You need to know the life of the forest well to save your life).
Working with the text of V. Bianchi's story.
– What does V. Bianchi write about?
What works of his have you read?
What idea are they imbued with? (A person must know and love nature.)
– What is the name of the work?
Who are his heroes? ( Children suggest By illustrations. )
Where will the events take place? How did you guess?
Do you want to take a trip along the trail?
( additional leaflets with text from the work of V. Bianchi)
We read in the learning reading mode;
As we read, we underline unclear words with a pencil;
(read for one minute)
Repeated reading: buzzing; with tapping; stumbling over “pebbles” (each type for 1 minute, each time returning to the beginning
Here are young aspen trees crowded into a heap. There are many tracks around them. The snow has been trampled, the bark has been gnawed off in some places. Who was there?
We go further along the white plain. Here I came across some kind of stitch - small, small marks. The stitch led to the roots of the impassable willow. Who is hiding here? (Ermine, a small oblong animal with expensive white fur.)
To the right of the well-worn road, wide, large footprints are visible in the shallow snow. This came... (Moose.) "
– What kind of trace can a person leave in the forest?
– In whose footsteps and why will the heroes of V. Bianchi’s story go?
2. Working with text while reading.
1. Primary reading (combined).
Part 1 Students read silently.
Exercise. Find a sentence in the text that could be used to title the 1st part.
Question after reading part 1:
– What did you learn about the heroes? ( We collect all the factual information that we read from this part: Egorka is the son of a forester, he is 13 years old, lives with his father in a hut in the forest. The father raises the boy strictly and taught him a lot: to read tracks, shoot, navigate in the forest. Egorka loves to hunt, wants to follow the trail of a strange animal...)
Vocabulary work.
– Explain the following words and expressions:
A flock of partridges (a flock of partridges);
Felted boots (felt boots);
I was idle (idle);
Hunting is worse than bondage (to really desire something);
Fusey, Berdan (explanations in the text).
– What words from the text can be used to title the first part?
1. “If only I could follow the trail of a strange animal myself!”
We underline or mark this line in the text, then write down the entire plan in a notebook.
Part 2read aloud (teacher or children in a chain). Techniques of analysis – dialogue with the author and commented reading.
The forester put down his boots, took an ax, and went into the barn to repair the sleigh. (That is... repair, repair.)
It was getting dark. The forester finished hammering with his ax.
It's time for dinner, but the boy is not there.
I heard it fire three times. And since then nothing. More time has passed. The forester went into the hut, adjusted the wick in the lamp, and lit it. He took the pot of porridge out of the oven. Egorka is still missing. And where did he go, you bastard? (Father is worried, angry... Where is Yegorka? Has something happened to him?)
Ate. He went out onto the porch. The darkness is impenetrable. (Please note: the sentences have become short, somewhat alarming.)
I listened and heard nothing. The wood is black and will not crack with a branch. It’s quiet, but who knows what’s in it? (Father's anxiety increases.)
- Whoa-whoa!
The forester shuddered - or did it seem? (It seemed like what?)
From the forest again:
- Whoa-whoa!..
That's right, wolf! Another one picked it up, a third one... a whole flock! There was a sinking feeling in my chest: surely animals were on Yegorka’s trail!
- Woo-woo-oo!..
The forester jumped into the hut and ran out with a double-barreled shotgun in his hands. He raised it to his shoulder, fire blazed from the muzzles, and shots rang out. (He jumped up, ran out, threw up, blazed, banged... The forester acts quickly: Egorka is in danger!) The wolves are worse. The forester is listening: will Egorka respond somewhere?
And then from the forest, from the darkness, faintly, faintly: “Boom!” (Is this...? It looks like Egorka responded and fired back.) The forester took off from his place, the gun behind his back, tied his skis - and into the darkness, to where Egorka’s shot came from.
– Which sentence should we underline as the title for this part?
2. “The forester is listening: will Egorka respond somewhere?”
Parts 3–6children and teacher read. No special comments are required here: the plot develops dynamically, the reader follows the actions of the forester and empathizes with him.
As you read, you need to explain some words.
Mouse- hunt mice.
Wad- a felt or cardboard spacer that separates the gunpowder in the cartridge from the bullet or shot.
Natropil- they made paths from footprints.
Title suggestions.
3. “The circle, then, was in the dark through the forest.”
4. “He reads in the snow, as if from a book, what happened to Yegorka during the night.”
5. “...would a hunter abandon a wounded animal?”
6. “...Wolves! Overtaken, damned ones!
Part 7the teacher reads. Techniques of analysis: dialogue with the author, commented reading.
When the gunpowder smoke cleared, the wolves were no longer there. My ears were ringing from the shot. And through the ringing he heard Yegorka’s plaintive voice: “Damn!” For some reason the forester took off his hat. (Why, do you understand?) Snow flakes fell on my eyelashes, making it difficult to look.
“Damn!..” Yegorka’s quiet voice sounded so clearly again.
- Egorushka! - the forester groaned.
- Take it off, daddy!
The forester jumped up in fear, turned around...
On the branch of a large tree, with his arms wrapped around a thick trunk, sat a living Yegorka.
- Son! – the forester screamed and rushed to the tree without memory.
The numb Yegorka fell like a bag into his father’s arms. The forester rushed home in spirit with Egorka on his back. Only once did he have to stop - Egorka stood up and babbled one thing:
- Dad, pick up my berdan, berdan... (Egorka is barely alive, numb, but doesn’t leave his gun. His father raised a real hunter!)
Part 8children read.
Vocabulary work.
– Explain how you understand the following expression:
I have no idea- I can’t guess, I can’t figure it out.
Title suggestions:
7. “Take it off, man!”
8. “Healthy badger...”
2. Summary conversation.
a) – The story is called “Following the Footsteps.” Try to explain the meaning of the name.
b) - Try to name from memory all the birds and animals that are mentioned in this story. Which ones have you seen? Which ones have you read about?
c) – Do you agree that winter forest lives by its own harsh laws? What are these laws? Try to formulate them (You need to return to your home before dark, be able to “read” tracks, navigate, know the habits of animals, be patient, brave...)
d) – Did this story help you in any way? What did each of you learn new about yourself by reading the story “In the Footsteps”? (What am I? I know..., I don’t know..., I can..., I can’t...)
Sinkwine on the theme “The Book of V. Bianchi”
Book
Interesting, educational
Teaches to observe, understand, love
The joy of connecting with nature
Man's friend
-What did we do? (They read the text, answered questions about the text, showed their attitude towards the characters.)
