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Myth

Rumors about this bad place appeared last year. At the beginning of the local hunters, and then the whole village Saputo whispering in the courts, the Church after the service, at school recess, in the queue of a single store, acquiring all new and eerie details and details.

And as you know, the rumors have on an empty place does not happen. The fact that a few years ago, near ZAPADNOGO in Shatura district, has carried on extensive logging, cut down and exported thousands of cubic meters of coniferous wood. Marching pine forests, where in the past all the local people and urban gardeners flocked to mushroom time, and in moss bogs for cranberries, into a huge impassable expanses of wasteland with mangled tractors and timber land, here and there jutting out crooked jagged stumps bristling and gnarled rhizomes. The remaining forest debris, substandard wood, cut down branches and uprooted roots dragged in a huge pile-a pile the size of half a football field.

Soon experienced hunters noticed suddenly appeared in the boar tracks in the woods, and their numerous crossings of the local roads and trails. Previously, the boar, the area is not particularly disliked, because of the abundance of extensive Shatura peat bogs, abandoned flooded quarries and scarcity of supply. My friend A. Zhuravlev, a resident ZAPADNOGO and avid genetic, a couple of times watching their dark silhouettes moving behind the trees when his handsome bow Russian hounds were on the trail of a hare.

Extraction of wild boars by local hunters received the license to shoot and repeatedly assembled a team to conduct a driven hunt, but to no avail. And soon all traces of wild boars went out at once. As disappeared!

The hunters were all wondering what had happened to the alien boar?! Were put forward different versions. And that he had died from swine fever and that have moved in the Vladimir forest, where more food and less on his human pressure. And that orekhovskaya poachers killed them all… But these versions are believed by few. But the fact that this blockage of broken stems, branches and roots inhabit wild boar, eating and relaxing in the comfort on open space — believe it all at once. This explains the missing traces. Said that the team of hunters went the next weekend to hunt. Put rooms on the perimeter of the dam and let the huskies. The dog went into the forest to camp, where man for all his desire could not penetrate. Arrows with guns frozen in their seats, waiting for the rapid exit of animals, pressed by the experienced huskies. But soon I heard a terrible squeal and the countryside announced the suicide eerie howl, which after a couple of seconds was replaced by complete silence. Dogs did not come out of the terrible rubble. Did not see the hunters and wild boars.

Soon the hunters arrived from the capital and frosty winter morning surrounded the gloomy rubble and pulled back nimble and vicious hunting Terrier. But this time a faithful four-legged helpers have not returned to their owners. Rumors were crawling and got increasingly scary and creepy mythical details. Told me that this summer, a lone traveler from Shatura to take a shortcut to the garden, walked past the dam. Tired and sat down on a stump is left to rest from a long road… And everything was gone! Passing through a couple of days the tractor drew attention to the bright scraps of some shitty clothes on the dry gnarled branches. Ripped backpack, half-full bottle of Fanta, one blue Shoe Adidas. Things brown spots — he then told everyone in the village. My friend stopped going in the wrong direction on the hunt, fearing for the lives of their hounds. And the villagers began to avoid Hiking for mushrooms and berries.

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When the first of January we went down to fellow hunters to wish you a happy New year and at the table told about a new, even more chilling, details of secrets of the forest dam, I broke down and said, “All right, enough of the myths and gossip! After lunch going and going to check this place out. Take binoculars, lanterns and weapons”. On my words my friend was very pale, abruptly jumped up from his chair and knocked over the hand with a table full lapatnic and guests immediately bustled in excitement and quickly began to say goodbye, crumpling greetings and new year wishes. To ride with me all flatly refused. But how do I find this place if I have no one to show us the way? Need the guide.

New years eve gala dinner was accompanied by many toasts, after which I again raised the question — shall we go now? My friend immediately became confused excuses, citing the household chores and care. But his son, Dmitri, unexpected agreed. The strength of my beliefs, personal desire to be courageous or “good” effect of alcohol led him to participate, so about three o’clock we drove through the gates of the farm and crossed the road — “Rubicon”.
All, there was no turning back. I kept on hand a pair of binoculars with optics vysotnaya, sat next to Dima, knees squeezing the package with a snack and a large plastic bottle of beer. And between us, on the wide armrest, sat my faithful companion on all trips white Terrier foster, glancing through the windshield of the Dodge on the snow-covered countryside.

The road, disappearing into the woods, turned out to be a good thumb track. Dimka reiterated that the road is, and that from the forest, from the far plots, continued to carry timber. Soon after the next turn disappeared past the township building. And we have become steadily closer to a mysterious camp where lurk huge meat cleavers killed our loyal friends — dogs and disappear without a trace, travelers and mushroom pickers.

Breaking the narrow strip of miraculously preserved, slender pines, we came out into the open. I braked and rolled down the window. Opened out before us to the horizon vast wasteland left by the loggers. I began to carefully explore the area through binoculars. But sticking out from under the snow black artsy roots, lying on its side, and other forest debris, and the snow was pristine, without anyone’s footprints. We had to cross a devastated wasteland almost in the center and go to the next plot, which was hidden behind a narrow strip of forest on the horizon. I moved on. The car quickly jumped over bumps, making the car all the stuff flying around the cabin. Dima periodically applying to a beer bottle, showed the way and along the way, told about the conducted hunts.

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We crossed some more of the same ruined and mutilated human activities in forest plots. Finally, went to covered with myths and fantasies of the forest to the dam. The short winter day and already the grey was fading fast. In the corners of the remnants of the forest crept the black shadows of twilight. I was surprised at the complete lack of hoof prints. Neither Fox lines, no typical rabbit prints, nor the more rounded holes from the hooves. No-th-th! As if all life left this bleak, ruined earth. Weird! Maybe all this talk and the legend of the bloodthirsty boar. really? Rumors on an empty place does not happen. Especially for the second year, and excite the whole of the local community these mysterious mythical place. The smoke without fire does not happen. From these thoughts I shivered and his right hand groped in a pocket clip with rifle cartridges caliber .30-06. Huge carved wasteland has opened our eyes. Dimka out of the car to get refused, I took the lantern, went outside. Dusk, dark, low sky and bleak the surrounding views gave a whole host ominous, gloomy look. It seemed that it are the currents of danger and evil. With a height of over two meters, she stretched for a hundred steps. Broken tree-trunks and huge gnarled comly, braided roots and stumps sticking out chaotically in all directions from this heap. A powerful flashlight I shined as she could to whip. It didn’t look like someone could live. Unless Fox could build up a cache there. But only just. I, as much as I could, walked her to confirm her thoughts. In my opinion, with the myth, it was clear that all mystics were just empty rumors! Dmitri confidently replied me that we are just before this, the same main host is still not reached. Well, go on.

The only track in the icy ruts stretched further. Along it reached the same lifeless wasteland. Soon through the darkening strip of woods, we saw the lights of cars passing by. We made a circle around the winter woods and left on the highway. By this time was completely dark and we decided to go back on a normal paved road.

After 20 minutes I entered the gates of the farm of my friend. All the Windows of the manor and the neighborhood was brightly lit, heard music and loud laughter. This was a simple explanation — after all, today was January 1, 201*.

Well, the myth we are completely dispelled, and now the hunters, mushroom pickers and simple that tourists can safely visit this part of the forest — the wild boar-the ghosts weren’t there. Apparently, they went from these places to places more convenient for their wild life.
 

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