hunter notes

Chapter 62 Woods and Grasslands

… leading him gradually to the rear:

Back to the dark garden, back to the village,

The bodhi tree there is tall and lush,
The chaste scent of the lily of the valley,

There are strong willows lined up there,

Hanging from the embankment on the water,

Where the live oaks grow in fertile fields,
Where the smell of marijuana and nettles . . .

To that place, to that place, to that wide field,

Where the velvet land,

Where the rye looked around,
Softly wavy.

From behind the clear white clouds,
Shining heavy golden sunlight.

It's a beautiful place...

——A poem about self-immolation
The reader is probably tired of my notes, so I hastened to reassure him: the agreement is limited to the few articles that have been published, but when I say goodbye to him, I must say a few words about hunting.

To go hunting with a gun and a dog is a wonderful thing in itself, what used to be called für sich; and even if you are not born a hunter, you must love nature and freedom, so you also Will envy us hunters... please listen to me.

Like, the excitement of a pre-dawn car ride in spring, you know?You go up the steps... There are stars shining here and there in the dark gray sky, and the moist breeze blows past, and you can hear the secret whispers of the night, and the small noises of the dark trees.The servants spread the carpet in the carriage, and put the samovar box underfoot.Two horses flinched, snorted, and stood there elegantly alternating hooves; a pair of white geese who had just woken up slowly crossed the road.The caretaker snored leisurely in the garden behind the fence.Everything seems to be stagnant in the condensed air, quietly.So you get in the car; the horses walk, the car rumbles...you pass the river...the smoke just starts to rise over the pond.It was a little cold, and you covered your face with the collar of your coat; you fell asleep.The horse's hooves clattered loudly in the puddles, and the coachman whistled.But by this time you've come a long way... the sun has woken up.The jays woke up in the birch bushes, flapping their wings awkwardly; the sparrows twittered nearby.The sky is clear, the road is clearer, the sky is clear, the clouds are white, and the fields are green.The pine lamps glowing red were burning in the farmhouse, and sleepy voices came from the gate.During this period, the morning glow turned red, and a golden band of light appeared in the sky, clouds and mist rose in the valley, the larks sang loudly, and the pre-dawn wind blew out—then the sun rose.The sun pours down like water; your heart lightens like a bird.Everything is fresh, cheerful and lovely!All the sights can be seen clearly.A village looms behind a grove; farther back there is another village with a white chapel; birch groves up the hill; and behind is a moor, and that's where you end... Run, horse, hurry run!Go big! ... There are still three versts to go.The sun is high, the sky is clear...it must be a fine day.A herd of domestic animals appeared before us.Your car comes to the top of the hill... what a view!The river meanders for ten versts, with blue ribbons showing faintly in the mist; beyond the river is a large area of ​​green grassland; beyond the grassland are several flat hills; in the distance there are several field mallards above the swamp Tweet; through the soft sunlight that spreads in the air, the distant scenery is covered with a light... not like summer.How free to breathe, how light the body is, how strong the whole body is enveloped in the fresh breath of spring! ...Dawns in July in summer!Only a hunter has ever known the joy of a walk in the bush at dawn.Your footprints leave green marks on the watery grass.You push aside the dewy branches with your hands, and the warmth stored in the night rushes towards you; Shining red light; the weather is still fresh, but it already feels that the heat is approaching.The fragrant air of prosperity makes you dizzy.Endless bushes... just a field of ripe yellow rye scattered in the distance, ribbons of pink buckwheat.A carriage rattled in the distance; a farmer came slowly and led his cart to a shady place first... You greeted each other and walked away; behind you was the loud scythe clang.The sun rose higher and higher.The grass dries quickly.It's getting hotter.An hour later .

"Dude, where's the water here?" you ask a man who mows the lawn. "There's a well in the valley over there." You come out of the thick hazel bushes tangled in weeds and onto the bottom of the valley.

Sure enough, there was a spring flowing slowly from the bottom of the cliff; the palm-shaped branches of the oak trees spread greedily on the water; large silver bubbles slowly emerged from the bottom of the water covered with fine and smooth moss.You bend over to the ground, drink enough water, but don't want to move anymore.You are lying in the shade, breathing the fragrant moisture; you are well, but the woods opposite you are so hot that they seem to dry in the sun.A gust of wind suddenly blows and passes by in a flash.The surrounding air trembled, was it thunder?You come out of the valley... the leaden color of the sky is the thickening of the heat, and the dark clouds are coming! ...In an instant, there was a slight flash of lightning... Ah, it turned out that a storm is coming!The sun was still shining brightly all around, and hunting was still possible.But there were more clouds, and the front side of it spread out like smoke and gathered like a vault.In an instant, the grass and trees were all dark... Run quickly!There seems to be a hayloft over there... run! ...you run into the palapa...what a rain!How bright the lightning is!Occasionally water drips through the thatched roof onto the fragrant hay...but, lo and behold, the sun is out again.The storm has passed; you come out.God, how cheerfully everything glows around, how clean the air is, how lovely the strawberries and mushrooms are! ... and now dusk has come.The fiery red sunset covered half of the sky.The sun is going to rest.The air near here seemed peculiarly clear, as transparent as glass; in the distance hung a soft mist; with the dew fell a scarlet glow over the woodlands that formerly filled the golden rim; trees, groves, and high haystacks Long shadows were cast... The sun disappeared completely, and a star shone faintly in the setting sun's sea of ​​fire... The sea of ​​fire gradually turned white, the sky turned blue, shadows slowly disappeared, and the air filled with smoke.It's time to head back to your farmhouse in the village where you spent the night.With a gun on your back, you walked tirelessly... During this time, the night fell, and you couldn't see anything beyond twenty paces, and the dog was slightly whitish in the darkness.Over there, over the dark jungle, the sky glows dimly... What is this?Is it fire? ... No, this is the moon coming out.The lights in the village below were already flickering...at last back inside.From the window you can see the table with the white tablecloth, the lighted candles, the supper... Sometimes you have a horse harnessed to the woods and hunt grouse.It is very interesting to drive on the narrow road lined with ripe rye.Ears of wheat brush your face lightly, cornflowers entangle your feet, quail call all around, and horses trot slowly.The woods have arrived.Dark and silent.The tall poplars rustled above you; the long drooping branches of the birches swayed slightly.A mighty oak stands sentry beside a graceful linden.Your car is driving on the green path; the big yellow flies linger in the golden air for a while, and then fly away suddenly; blackened; the birds chirped peacefully.The golden voice of the robin blew excitedly and innocently, which matched the scent of the lily-of-the-valley.Go farther, go on, into the depths of the woods...the woods are thickening...all indescribably silent; all sleepy and silent.Then suddenly a gust of wind blew, and the treetops rattled like falling waves.Occasionally tall grass emerged from among last year's brown leaves; mushrooms stood wearing their hats.The snow rabbit jumped out suddenly, and the dog barked loudly and hurriedly chased after it... The same forest, how wonderful it looked when the autumn snipe flew over that night!The woodcock is not in the depths of the wood, one must go to the edge of the wood to find them.There was no wind, no sun, no movement, no sound; the air was soft with the wine-like scent of autumn; and there was a thin mist over the yellow fields in the distance.A soft sky peeped through the bare brown branches; the few golden leaves hung from the linden branches.The ground was wet and soft; the tall dry grass was motionless; long spider threads glistened on the pale grass.Breathing smoothly, but there is a strange palpitation in my heart.You walk along the edge of the woods, taking your dog along the way.Then lovely images, lovely people-dead and living-are recalled, heavy long-standing impressions suddenly come to life; imagine that you have bird's wings, and everything flashes clearly before your eyes.Sometimes the heart is suddenly excited and rushes forward enthusiastically, and sometimes it is sunk in memory for a long time.The experience of a life rolls on with the lightness and swiftness of a scroll; at this moment a man knows all his past, all his feelings, all his strength, all his soul.There is nothing around him to hinder him—nothing... In autumn, when the morning is cold and the day is clear and slightly cold, the birch trees are all golden yellow like forests in mythology, standing gracefully on the light blue the low slanting sun at that time no longer warms you, but shines brighter than the summer sun; the bare little poplar groves seem to think it is easy and pleasant to stand like this; the frost flowers are still at the bottom of the valley Remains, the breeze blows slowly, playing with the curly fallen leaves; at that time, the river is running with cyan waves, embracing the carefree geese and ducks together; in the distance, there is a mill half covered with willows that keeps working Doves circled swiftly above it, mottled and flickering in the bright air... The smoggy days of summer are also beautiful, though hunters don't like summer.It is impossible to hunt in these days, for the birds flap from your feet and disappear in white still smoke.And yet how still it was all around!Everything is awake, yet everything is still and silent.You pass a tree that is motionless and enjoying itself.Through the mist that spreads evenly in the air, ahead of you is a long black shadow.

You thought it was a wood; you approached it, and it became a tall row of wormwood growing in a field.Fog is everywhere around you... Suddenly a gust of wind blows gently, a piece of light blue sky pierces through the thin smoke-like mist and reveals, golden sunlight suddenly invades, forming a long strip of light , into the fields, into the woods—and then all was hidden again.The struggle went on for a long time; but at last the light triumphed, and the last puffs of smoke, warmed by the sun, sometimes gathered and spread flat, sometimes whirled and disappeared into the softly radiant blue sky, and the day became vast. sunny weather.

Now you are ready to go hunting on the grasslands far from the estate.Your car drives down a country road and ends up on a highway.You pass countless wagons, and beside some inns with their doors open, you see a well inside, with a samovar creaking and boiling under the eaves; The marijuana fields continue to drive.Magpies walk through the branches; peasant women walk slowly towards the field with long rakes in their hands; a passer-by wears a shabby homemade coat, with a bag behind his shoulder, walking with heavy steps The landlord's ape-drawn carriage with six tall and tired horses is coming towards you.A corner was exposed from the window of the car; a servant in an overcoat was pulling the rope, hunched over a cattail bag on the pedals at the back of the carriage, his eyebrows were splashed with mud.Now you have come to a small county town, where there are small crooked wooden houses, countless fences, uninhabited stone shops, and ancient bridges in the mountains... Go on, go farther! ... came to the grassland.What a beautiful view you have from the hills!Round and low cultivated hills, undulating like giant waves; thicket-covered valleys flow through the middle of the hills; small islands are scattered like jungles; narrow paths lead from a village. Connected to another village; scattered white chapels; hidden among the willow bushes a shining stream, dammed in four places; far away in the field a line of wild geese stood neatly; There is an old landowner's house with cottages, an orchard and a threshing floor.But your car keeps moving forward.The hills were getting smaller and smaller, and the trees were almost invisible.Finally, you have come to a vast grassland! ... In the cold winter, you chase rabbits on the high snowdrifts, breathing the biting air, the soft snow's dazzling and fine reflections make your eyes squint, and you admire the red forests The sky above, how beautiful it all is! ... In the seasons of early spring, when everything is shining and crumbling, the fresh earth smells already through the melted snow; Singing loudly, rushing from gorge to gorge with the merry din and roar of the rapids... it should all be over.I’m talking about spring again. It’s easy to say goodbye in spring. In spring, happy people will be taken far away... Goodbye, my readers, I wish you peace and happiness forever.

(End of this chapter)