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The end of the cleaver

By the river the tashenka found a family, torn to pieces by wild boars. This news is like a bucket of cold water was a shock to Andrew’s wife Stepanida.

Andrey Smelov trifonovich all my life I lived in village First and was known as a skillful hunter. My heart hurt for nature and for justice.
For completeness, the roundness in the forms of the villagers gave him the nickname Chopper.

Trapped on Andrew foxes and hares. From “no big thing” could hit a squirrel in the eye! Farsightedness possessed, but was color blind, so drivers in his way was ordered, and he labored bulldozer career in “C-130”. And if you had free time, hurried to escape into the woods and forget, to calm my nerves.
Being an avid Taxidermist, did Andrew beautiful stuffed animals that take local businesses to decorate the lobby of the restaurants or homes. The pay is good, allowing to maintain the old “Niva” bought back in the early 80-ies of the last century. And he was proud to be a shop window with cakes on the main street Kasimova — Soviet long adorned his fire Fox, which itself came out to him a path. He was afraid that she was sick with rage, cocked it and pulled the trigger his failsafe father’s gun which he brought from the war, excellent, otvarennuyu to blue Belgian double-barreled shotgun of the 16th caliber.

Out of season hunting with the gun did not go. The laws were strictly adhered to. And the heart bleeds when I see acts of poachers. Vodka and cigarettes are not amused. In his fifty-he was strong in bone and bold. Loved for the soul to engage in carpentry and joinery craft.

And today he’s just in his spacious, the woodwork in the dressing room have finished making a beautiful chest of drawers. Andrew could not stop looking at it. But after hearing alarmed by a report of its second half, bit her lip. Hard thoughts traveled in his gray with twenty-five years of age the head…
…Across Vladimir region has long bred boars. Hoof marks were found everywhere. And in ravines under Dubya, where they are looking for acorns in the forest, ant piles, and in abandoned fields everywhere. Andrew, although universities did not finish, realized that the boar-killer huntsman to shoot him will not. He saw the flock down by the river. Tusks like a mammoth, stick up the old Wojacki pigs — from the ground more than a meter at the withers. As the pig and wild boar, and fingerlings…

Indian summer in the yard, and mushrooms although oblique mow. In the bath the wire pulled — drowning in black and dried. Certainly not war? Yes, one white. Stand in a field three birch — run and seek in high grass. Be sure to come across a family of such pot-bellied “pig”! Yesterday Stepanida even a large white mushroom found, and on the hat a little grown up! Now again, mushroom soup with barley, burnt onions and with sour cream in which a spoon is warmed up. Already tired of this brew. But Andrew is silent. It is impossible to offend the hostess — hunting will not let go.

— Andrew, maybe goat’s milk? Only milked, fresh. — Andrew trifonovich, like a graven image, only creaked a homemade painted with minium the stool and rattled the aluminum spoon about a large yellow enamel mug. He thought of his hunting: “In a relatively short period of time in late August — early September, the animals come out to feed, about fifteen minutes after sunset. Yet light enough to make a kill shot in the eye. Otherwise, Kalkan — “armor” boar hurt. I’m going to use my ambush on CEPALCO. There is a river just a swamp!”

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Pei itself, Stesha, finally he said. For food he finally decided. And even before Stepanida stood up on his knees. “Take away the gun — so be it. And the more I they wouldn’t do for it…”

Before sunset Andrew broke the old battery. Tossed in the bath in the furnace heater a couple of birch polenec. Melted lead in a tin can. In advance he had drilled in the wood hole of the required diameter. The bars turned out good. Left to chop on stooke-tree stump and change the shot factory ammo 16 gauge for these “bullets”. Lightly he added, and the powder in the brass glittering shells. Taking ammo from a 9mm buckshot, just in case. I went to the remains of the old smithy, where he gained the sharp teeth of the harrows. Pulled out a metal box with a homemade lock polished to sparkle in the sun gun. Pack a backpack, she put the flashlight, a portable night vision device, heavy naval binoculars, spotted camouflage, sleeping bag, matches, a hacksaw, tourist hatchet and hunting knife with a handle extractor, a screwdriver, locking the unfolded blade. And only then calmed down. But still he could not sleep for a long time, like flies running all night on the skin.

Was awakened by his neighbor’s loud mouth rooster. The owner to worry didn’t need to. Agreement with vechora gave and blessed. Ordered icon with live helps put it in his pocket.

Andrew was afraid Glasnevin women. From witches Thistle in a conspicuous place peptical. A whole bunch. So I went on ask. Niva wound up immediately, without a murmur. The engine purred smoothly, but especially to kasuliku do anything. Yes, and there was nowhere to hurry. The faithful dog had to leave the house. Gun in the bag lay in front of him, a backpack with grub and clothes, he hid in the trunk. The car had to be left in Chinore the house of the matchmaker.

Then he walked along the river Bank. Indian summer still “bristle”, and, despite the fall, gold leaves glittering a little. Slowly the colors faded, and some had a persistent but lonely purple bells, and the one-eyed daisies. Orangevale in the rays of the bright sun bunches of Rowan berries. Fine dry wood was singing to the feet of the hunter. And here’s the first little kopitke clearly imprinted on wet dirt roads, when, after crossing Sunny glade, Andrew plunged into the forest.
Finally, an hour later, he went out to the swamp, and a little away was widely spread by the river and the tashenka, where he fell into it Moore. No wonder the bears have rated this place. And impenetrable spruce forest side stretches for many miles, and the watering place at hand.

Crouching on a rotten birch tree blown down many years ago, tired traveler took off with the tired shoulder the gun and already bored, the backpack. Pretty hungry for approached the end of miles, he decided to eat. Loaf of homemade bread that the wife Stepanida bakes itself in the Russian stove, and a loaf of fragrant fat, which they salted and roll in three-liter jar, quickly appeased dismal hunger. He took care about the accommodation, and the evening was built of fir twigs and dry grass is a good tent.

From fatigue and insomnia on the eve of the hunting sleep outdoors in a sleeping bag instantly took him to their charms. Andrew dreamed that he was at the controls of his yellow bulldozer. Tractor flies to fifth gear with a raised knife. And in front of the huge herd of mammoths with sacratini up Lycidae. But no matter how he adds more and manual gas can not catch up the giants. And then he remembers about the gun! Firing on the move from the cab with one hand in the first Agranovskaya and gets right in the eye!
Emotion wakes up in a cold sweat. Goes out and listens. Ear hurts a rustle of branches and grunting, screeching and squelching. “Yeah, then the boars do not change your rule!” — Andrei thought. Now he had to track down the “two-legged wild boar”, which is also to be feared.
In the East is ripe in the silence, the crimson streak of dawn. Only went with the wild boar waterhole as the motor growled. Seemed brand new UAZ “hunter” spotted. He got out of it two relastic fat people in military camouflage. Pulled the bags and spilled something near the trail. Looked around and left. “Yes, time for the butchering I will not. God willing, the legs to carry,” thought Andrew, lowering the binoculars. He knew that the smell from the man in ambush is going to the boars on the bottom and at the top they don’t feel it. So the place picked up immediately.

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On the leeward side of the trail in impassable bushes stood curly pine. Overview of all trails with them are great. Of the watering hole can be seen fully. And the wind will be, just from the boars.

Was quick without knots osinki. Ground and dissolved, as it should, the saw easily took aspen “meat”. Split the billet in half helped stuck the hatchet. The teeth of the harrows can be easily entered into the interior of the two pines standing nearby. The tanned face of Andrew, already overgrown gray stubble, lit up from the smile. The ambush was ready. Left one to wait in anticipation…

Long languished Andrew in ambush. No strong wind gusts in the face, nor rain drove the hunter “perch”. All this he endured patiently.

Already half asleep I woke him up, the crash of fallen trees. Waited. And your heart was about to jump out of his chest. On the bare field in front of floodplain marsh by the river Talence from the spruce thicket came the boars. The hunter froze, automatically unyav trembling at the knees and a finger on the right trigger. The cocks are cocked in advance. Shots did not hear. The first and second. All other boars, individuals under fifty, yelp, fled. The night-vision goggles could not see where the bullet hit. But was aiming for Andrew in the eye. When he held up the device and binoculars, we saw that the ears have a very healthy boar stand still! And, when once dismal fear, the hunter approached the carcass as the sky after the rain, brightened his mind. Unprecedented dimensions bayonet, twenty and pounds to three hundred and fifty were struck down with lead bars on the spot. Thumb and index finger, Andrey was not able to measure fangs. They were slightly more than a quarter in the snarling jaws! In place of the left eye was a gaping entrance wound, which was gushing blood. The second bullet hit under the shoulder blade. On one of the fangs in the light of the flashlight was visible colorful cloth dresses…

Andrew found in the “Cornfield”, which was lying on its side in a ditch a kilometer from the First, bend himself at the stunted pine. Called an ambulance, but it arrived late… the Doctor pronounced transient myocardial…

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