hunter notes

Chapter 44
In autumn, around mid-September, I sit in a birch grove.It has been raining intermittently since the morning, and the warm sunshine shines from time to time. This is the weather that is unpredictable.Sometimes the sky is filled with soft white clouds, and sometimes it clears up in a few places, and the blue sky is revealed behind the clouds that are pushed away, bright and lovely, like a beautiful eye.I sat, looked around, and listened.The leaves are rustling softly above my head, and from that noise alone I can tell what season it is.It is not the cheerful, joyful trembling of spring, nor the soft, soft whispers and long chatters of summer, nor the shy, indifferent chatter of late autumn, but an inaudible, drowsy Sleepy chatter.

The breeze gently blows over the treetops, and the rain-drenched center of the woods is constantly changing due to sunshine or cloud cover.Sometimes the light shines brightly, as if suddenly everything in it becomes clear, the trunks of the not very dense birch trees are suddenly covered with a soft light like white silk, and the small leaves that fall on the ground suddenly reflect a colorful, red-gold brilliance, The beautiful stalks of the tall and luxuriant ferns, already tinged with the autumn colors of ripe grapes, are shattered and intertwined endlessly before your eyes; Green, the bright colors suddenly disappear, the birches appear white, without brilliance, as white as fresh snow that has not yet been touched by the cold light of winter, and then the woods are sprinkled softly and slyly. When the rain comes, it makes a rustling sound.

The leaves on the birch trees, though visibly paler, were still almost green; only in some places, a solitary young birch grew, all red or golden, so that you could see the How bright the birch tree was in the sun as it slipped in dreamily through the dense twigs freshly washed by the crystal rain.I couldn't hear the birds at all, they were all roosted, and there was no sound, except that sometimes the mocking voice of the chickadee could be heard ringing like copper bells.I took my dog ​​through a tall aspen grove before I rested in this birch grove.To be honest, I don't really like this tree—the poplar—with its lavender stumps and gray-green metallic leaves that can go up and spread out in the air like quivering fans; I don't like it The sight of those round and chaotic leaves hanging from the long petioles that are not flexible are constantly swaying.Only in the usual summer evening, it stands upright alone among the low bushes, facing the red light of the setting sun, bathed in the same fiery red from root to tip, shining and trembling; perhaps, on a clear day And on a windy day, the whole thing tosses and whispers noisily in the blue sky, as if each of its leaves wishes to escape and fly far away—only during this time, this Planting trees is lovely.

But I still don't like this kind of tree in general, and certainly don't rest in the aspen grove, so I went to the birch grove, found a shelter under a tree whose branches were not high enough to give me shade from the rain, and admired After taking a look at the surrounding scenery, enjoy the peaceful and gentle sleep that only hunters can feel.

I don't know how much time I slept, but when I opened my eyes, the woods were full of sunlight, and all around me, through the joyfully noisy leaves, was a bright blue sky.The cloud was blown away by the gust of wind and disappeared.At this time the sky is clear, and there is a peculiar dry coolness in the air which fills the heart with a pleasant feeling which is almost always the harbinger of a clear and calm night after a day of rain.I was about to stand up and try my luck again, when suddenly my eyes saw a still figure.I took a closer look and it was a young peasant girl.She was sitting not far from me, thinking with her head down, her hands limply on her lap; one half-opened, on which lay a bouquet of wildflowers in full bloom that followed her every breath. Slowly slid down onto the plaid skirt.The neckline and cuffs of the clean white shirt are buttoned up, forming short soft folds that wrap around her body; large yellow beads are strung in double rows, hanging from her neck to her chest.The girl is very pretty.Beautiful, thick, light-grey blond hair, combed very carefully in two semicircles under a narrow scarlet headband, which was tied so low that it fell almost on an ivory-white forehead; The other parts of the body are slightly golden and dark due to the sun, a color that only delicate skin can have.

I couldn't see her eyes because she didn't look up, but I could clearly see her high, slender eyebrows and very long eyelashes, which were wet and had a dry spot on one of her cheeks. The traces of tears, which reached as far as the pale lips, shone in the sun.Her head is all very cute, even the slightly rounded nose does not harm the general body.I especially liked the look on her face, so simple and soft, so sad, so full of childish doubts about her own sorrow.She was obviously waiting for someone there, when something rustled softly in the woods, she immediately raised her head and looked back.In the pure shadow, her big bright eyes, cowering like a deer, flashed swiftly before me.She opened her eyes and looked at the place where the slight sound came from. She listened for a while, then sighed, and slowly turned her head back, bent lower than before, and began to slowly touch the flowers.Her eyes were red, her lips quivered in pain, and the tears flowed again from under her thick lashes, and fell on her cheeks, shining brightly.A long time passed in this way, and the poor girl did not move.Only sometimes waving her hands in distress, listening, and always listening... Something in the woods made a sound again, and she trembled.The sound didn't stop, became clearer, quicker, and finally became the sound of decisive and rapid footsteps.She drew herself up as if timidly; her fixed eyes trembled and flickered with anticipation.Through the dense trees, the figure of a man flashed rapidly.When she looked carefully, she suddenly blushed, smiled joyfully and happily, and wanted to stand up, but immediately lowered her head, her face pale and flustered, and she didn't look up until the man approached and stood beside her. She looked at him with trembling, almost earnest eyes.

Childishly I peeped at him from my hiding place.To be honest, he didn't give me a happy impression.This man was, in all respects, a favored servant of a wealthy young landowner.His attire reveals his witty and stylish debauchery: he wears a short bronze overcoat—perhaps taken off the shoulders of its owner—buttoned all the way to the top, with a snow-blue pink pair at both ends. He wore a tie, and a black velvet hat trimmed with gold, which fell to his eyebrows.The crew neck of his white shirt supports his ears effortlessly, cuts his cheeks, and the stiff sleeves cover his hands, all the way down to the ruddy, crooked fingers, inlaid with forget-me-nots. silver and gold rings with mung bean turquoise.His ruddy, bright, impudent face belonged to a type which, so far as I observed, was almost always disliked by men, but unfortunately always loved by women.Evidently trying to put on an expression of contempt and weariness on his ferocious features, he kept squinting his small milk-grey eyes, frowning, drooping the corners of his lips, and twitching unnaturally. Yawning, with a careless, but not very subtly insolent attitude, sometimes smoothing out his fiery red curly hair with his hands, usually pulling the yellow mustache that stood on his thick upper lip-in general Saying that, putting on a show is embarrassing.As soon as he saw the peasant girl who was waiting for him, he put on a show.He staggered slowly towards her, stood before her for a moment, twisted his shoulders, put his hands in his coat pockets, gave the poor girl a cursory and indifferent glance, and sat down on the ground. .

"Well," he began, still looking away, shaking his legs and yawning, "have you been here long?" It was impossible for the girl to answer him immediately. "It's been a long time, Victor Alexandrech," she said at last in an inaudible voice. "Ah! (He takes off his hat, runs his hands proudly through the thick, tightly curled hair that almost rises from his eyebrows, looks around majestically, and puts the hat on his neck lovingly. on his head.) I completely forgot. And you see, it’s raining again! (He yawns again.) There are so many things that it’s impossible to take care of everything, and the master is still swearing. We We're leaving tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow?" said the girl, looking straight at him in surprise. "Tomorrow... well, come, come, don't cry," he went on, seeing her trembling and slowly lowering her head, "Akulina, don't cry, I beg you. You know, I can't stand this. (He wrinkles his flat nose.) Or I'm leaving right away...you're silly, why are you crying!"

"Okay, I won't cry, I won't cry." Akulina said hastily, trying to swallow her tears. "And you are leaving tomorrow?" she continued after a little silence. "When shall I see you again, Victor Alexandrech?"

"We'll meet. Not next year, but later. Monsieur will probably go to Petersburg to take office," he continued in a slightly nasal tone, "and we may go abroad."

"You are forgetting me, Victor Alexandrech," said Akulina mournfully.

(End of this chapter)