Статьи членов клуба

I have long realized that hunting is a disease.  But I had to fully experience of that disease during my trip to Yakutia. I organize trophy hunts in various regions of the country and beyond and often have to visit various hunting lands and where I help to organize hunting for maral, Siberian roe deer, bear and other trophy animals there.  The organization and conduct of such tours  is very strenuous and hard work, but it still gives me great pleasure. My soul becomes a little uncomfortable when I don't go anywhere for a long time (2-3 months of the off-season.)       I really like these trips because they are interesting and I can see the beautiful corners of our country and neighboring countries; nature in various forms of its manifestation. You can touch those secrets of nature that only a few people have seen before you. Believe me, there are still such corners! There you quench your thirst with crystal clear water from a mountain stream; can eat fragrant berries and brew tea from a variety of roots, adding leaves of useful plants, shrubs or berries there. I don't want to drink tea in urban conditions after such natural delicacies, no matter how high-quality it is.       There is an opportunity to observe various interesting natural phenomena when you are so far from civilization. The last time in Yakutia, we admired the enchanting flashes of the northern lights every night, which was simply impossible to forget. I always watch with interest the behavior of the local population apart from the beauties of Mother Nature. I am interested in the psychology of the peoples that live in this or that territory where we come to hunt.      The aboriginal name of the Sakha people gave the name to the autonomous entity on the territory of Russia - the Republic of Sakha (Yakutia). They are excellent hunters and fishermen, like none of the nationalities I have met before. They feel nature, the animal world and everything connected with it. These are the real "children of nature", her creation. I have rarely met such a careful attitude to nature as the modern descendants of the Sakha peoples.       The people I work with during hunting (our guides) will never raise a carbine unnecessarily and won't shoot at hunting animals if it is not necessary at that time. It's a rare thing when you meet such a careful attitude towards nature among the local population. I am far from illusions that all Sakha people are like that, and I cannot make such generalizations. I tell you about what I've seen.      Sakha hunters have great respect for their pagan patron - the God of hunting Bayanai. He is always remembered. As soon as we landed by helicopter and set up camp, bread, tobacco and something alcoholic were immediately "given to the fire". The flash of flame that swallowed those gifts "symbolized" that the gift was accepted by Bayanai. I looked to my guides and adopted the same habit to "give something to fire" by honoring Bayanai and asked him for good luck, food, a good night's lodging if we were somewhere in the taiga or tundra and couldn't reach the hut.       The Sakha people calmly accepted the twists of fate if they failed to implement the plan they had thought out in advance. "Bayanai did not let us over the pass!” So all that was for the best. If he did not allow you the road there by rain, fog or snow, then you need to wait for success elsewhere. As a rule, this is exactly what happens. Their good-natured positive calm attitude always gives them the opportunity to try their luck.      After the noise of the engine of the helicopter that flew away had died down, my three clients (hunters from Hungary); our guides, the cook and I were left alone far from civilization in the Arctic Circle. We had set up camp quickly and had a snack with a hot dinner cooked by Natasha (the wife of one of the guides, Rodion), then we "gave gifts to the fire" and went to the tent, trying to sleep after sleepless nights associated with long–distance flights. It always succeeds with great difficulty due to the large hour difference (8-10 hours). It happened that time. I slept not well with frequent interruptions, despite being very tired. We discussed the physical capabilities of hunters in walking on the tundra, the peculiarities of shooting and some details of hunting moose" on the roar" in Yakutia. It turned out that one of the hunters, Janos (who was the initiator of that trip for the others), was operated on the Achilles tendon of his left leg. He needed rest and almost bed rest instead of being among the swampy hummocks and tallow bushes in Yakutia. But he dreamed of that real hunt for 5 years and could not miss that opportunity to hunt at the last moment. Their hunting friends in Hungary assured them that none of them would leave Yakutia without a trophy moose. And the service would be the most primitive.      It was 6.20 am of the first day of hunting when Rodion came running to our tent and said in a loud whisper that there was a moose right next to the camp behind the stream. We quickly decided that it was a good chance for Janos. And we gave him the opportunity to use that chance. The moose really stood 200 meters away. It was partially hidden by a human-sized willow and the predawn twilight. We decided to approach Janos to the moose. It was a good size trophy bull.  Rodion walked in front, I helped Janos to get into a good shooting position. Those who remained in the camp at that time watched the process from a small hill.       We waited until the moose entered the gap between the bushes, and gave the command to shoot. A shot rang out. The moose walked another 20-30 meters and stood up, directing its gaze in our direction. It was necessary to make another shot so that the beast would not leave, but Janush could not cope with the carbine being in the excitement and insert the next cartridge into the chamber. I tried to help him. The moose disappeared from sight while we tried to solve that problem. Fortunately for us and to the indescribable delight of Janos and his partners, the moose fell in the same place where it stood. So, the first trophy was got in 200 meters from the camp at 6-30 am, the first day of hunting. We celebrated our success immediately and didn't forget about the offering to Bayani. Two more hunting days followed. Each of them brought good luck to one of the two hunters. It was necessary to see how tired the Europeans were after a day of walking on the Yakut tundra. They were exhausted by the local vegetation, the talc bushes, the soil that slurped from the water and hold our foot like a sucker and didn't not want to let go. We had to bypassed or jumped over fallen trees. But the second Janos, and then Shandor, were rewarded with beautiful trophies. There was no limit to their admiration. Hungarian hunters were not spoiled by trophies, they still could not imagine that they got three beautiful trophy moose with beautiful, typical for this area, horns in the real conditions of the Yakut tundra just in just three days! They were even more amazed by the fact that they could see moose right from your camp almost every day.  The guides equipped a primitive observation tower on the trunk of two larch trees on the hillock. It was from there, we watched with our binoculars what was happening around the camp. Visibility was up to 2 kilometers. We even gave names to some of our regular "guests" whom we saw them for several days in a row, and that was necessary to distinguish the "indigenous" population of moose among the passing ones.      It was my turn to go hunting. I also had the right to shoot a trophy moose that year due to agreements with my partner in Zyryanka, Alexander Maheed.  Hungarians, who tired of walking on the Yakut tundra, wished me good luck. But they wanted me to follow my trophy properly, and not shoot it right at the camp. It's a holiday for me, any exit to the hunting lands, and when I also hunt myself, it's a double holiday! I lived with that premonition for the last months before the trip. (I'm a trophy hunter in spirit, and envied my lucky customers, who were already rewarded by Bayani with gorgeous trophies.)      The only thing that didn't allow me to relax in that situation was a sense of responsibility for my work and for the success of customers. But when the tension subsided a little after the effective shooting, and I could switch to my hunting. How often, unfortunately, it happens: "We assume, but God disposes!" I felt symptoms of some kind of malaise on the eve of the hunt. I just felt completely overwhelmed by the fourth day of my stay in the camp. The reason was the fact that one of our guides came to the camp with some kind of viral infection. That infection had successfully passed through each of us in turn. Almost all of us have suffered from that cold disease in one form or another. So, I was faced with a dilemma - either refuse to go hunting and be treated in a camp near a warm stove or to overcome the disease, still go hunting. The decision had to be made, taking into account the weather conditions of the area where we arrived to hunt. The weather there could change in just half an hour and for a long time. A sunny day, which Bayanai has so far gave us, a hurricane could come and cover us with rain or even worse, with snow. It was absolutely impossible for me to relax for that reason, and I decided to go out in the morning. I have learned from many years of practice that the most important thing in that state was not to eat a lot, and drink a lot (preferably hot tea with lemon). We had breakfast and moved to the hunting area.  My guide Fedor took some food in order to have a snack during the day. Two more guides, Ivan and Rodion, went with us. They wanted to pack the meat of previously shot moose for shipment by helicopter and made a landing pad for the helicopter at the shooting site. There were four of us! The noise is enough to scare away all living things for kilometers when such a "crowd" goes hunting. Surprisingly, we were lucky right away, as soon as we approached the place where the first moose was shot.  At first, we saw a female with a calf, then a young male moose 600 meters away. A huge male appeared in the bushes, 400 meters away from us. It scratched its horns on bushes and trees, but wasn't in a hurry to go out into an open clearing where a female and a calf were grazing. Fedor and I made an attempt to approach. We used the terrain, and moved like one four-legged creature, smoothly flowing over bumps and fallen trees All our movements were smooth and well-adjusted. That method of movement allowed to get as close as possible to almost many wild animals. The moose has poor eyesight, and it can look in your direction for a long time without running away It always relies more on its sense of smell and hearing. Thus, we were able to reduce the distance to the female with the calf to 350, and then 300 meters.        At that time, a huge moose male was standing in the bushes and continued to scratch its powerful horns. We hoped the female would continue its journey with the calf, and the bull would follow it and appear in a clearing where it would be possible to make a confident shot.  I had a 300win.Mag SAKO 75 HUNTER carbine with me on that hunt. It was the first time I took cartridges with a CDP bullet weighing 10.7 g from RWS, made by order of BLASER and, subsequently, I was very pleased with the choice of that particular bullet. It was possible to try to shoot through the bushes having such a weapon. Some hunters would have done so. But the hunting ethics did not allow me to do that.       There was still a certain internal struggle for some time. I threw up the rangefinder, admired the horns again, looked at the bull through the sight and decided that everything was in the hands of Bayanai. If he brought the moose to the clearing, I'd shoot; if not, the moose was not mine (although it would be a pity to miss such a trophy). Everything was resolved faster than we thought. Fedor and I just waited, merging with the surrounding vegetation. At that time, the female and the calf turned to the bull, slowly entered the tall bush. All three of them slowly dissolved into the willows. I think that real trophy hunters will understand what I've experienced at that moment. But I couldn't step over my moral foundations, and I didn't see the point. We should work with axes to clear the landing pad for the helicopter at the site of the shooting of the third moose. However, I felt very bad when I arrived at the place. Weakness and chills called into question my further hunting.  It is best to drink strong tea and to relax in such cases. Fortunately, there was a small pile of hay that was prepared, as if specially for me. I apologized to the guys for the forced idleness and explained the reason, then settled down on a hay feather bed. I was right to do just that. I got up like a reborn after 10 minutes of light sleep and was even able to help the guys in clearing the site by working with an axe. Soon we divided into two groups and started on their way back. Then we turned to the place where saw a female with a calf and a huge bull.  To our chagrin, neither those moose nor any others were found. The day was already running out, and we had to move towards the camp. Finally, we came closer to the valley of the Hosky Creek, on which our camp was located. There was an opportunity to view more places where the moose might appear. I didn't know why, but over the past two years, when I went with Fedor and drove clients, it often turned out that I was the first to see the moose.  It happened that time. A good bull was moving in our direction in short dashes from the bottom of the stream. It was constantly looking around, which seemed rather strange to me. Fedor didn't hear well (and, as it turned out later, he already saw poorly due to his not young age), but he ran almost like a moose, and I had to catch up with him to show something, or just stop him I nodded in the direction of the moose and asked about his opinion about the quality of the trophy. He didn't tell me anything definite. Then I realized that I would have to rely only on myself and my own experience of Yakut hunting. I carefully examined the moose and its horns through the eyepiece of a rangefinder and a 10-fold LEUPOLD sight.  The rangefinder did not show the distance Because of the twilight and fog. There was about 400 meters away to the moose according to my calculations. The horns were no more than 18kg in weight and about 1m20cm wide. I strictly aware that it might be the last trophy that I would ever see, I decided to let this moose go. I really wanted to get a typical Yakut subspecies of moose with good trophy qualities. We went on our way. Fedor, as it seemed to me, lost all interest in looking for a trophy moose and completely relaxed. My feet started to freeze from walking in rubber boots all day in cold water, and weakness was piling up again. There were about 3 kilometers to the camp according to my GPS. Soon I saw a dark spot on the edge of the sparse woodland and floodplain of the stream, it could only be a moose, judging by the size.  The spot remained in one place with amazing tenacity and did not move. I touched with my walking pole with a slingshot at the end to Fedor and pointed him at the moose. “It's a cow!” (The female of moose) - he said indifferently and we continued our way. It was almost impossible to see a moose that stood in willows, from a distance of 1 kilometer in the descending twilight. We were still moving along the slope, constantly monitoring the moose.  The moose didn't move. I began already to doubt - maybe I dreamed it?!  When the dark spot was already 500 meters away, I put the carbine on the pole once again to determine the presence of horns in that moose.  I looked through the eyepiece of the sight, gave the maximum magnification and at that moment the moose turned its head. I could clearly make out the horns on its head. There was no doubt - there was a trophy animal in front of us. But what was that trophy like? I will explain all the behavior of the moose before and after that a little later. Then we decided to try to approach the moose at a distance of a shot just for the sake of at least to see the horns. It was getting darker by every minute. We had about 10-15 minutes left to get closer, assess the situation and the quality of the trophy and make a shot, if circumstances allowed. Meanwhile, the air temperature had already dropped below "0" and it felt great. We were dressed quite lightly. We went down to the stream and crossed it, trying to tread as quietly as possible. The moose was about three hundred meters away. It remained where it was with enviable stubbornness. The experience of determining the distance by eye plus the excitement of folding, slight excitement made the rangefinder device unnecessary at the moment. It was clear from the behavior of the moose that it was controlling our movement no matter how hard we tried to make as little noise as possible. It remained a mystery to us at that moment, why did it stay in place all that time?  Fedor constantly insisted on further progress. But when there were about two hundred meters left, I stopped him. I explained my position to him. If the trophy was good enough, then I could shoot it from that distance. The last question left. "What was the quality of the trophy?” I already realized earlier that Fedor practically didn't see the horns, and then he admitted to me that he could not help me in the visual evaluation of the trophy.       I could only rely on myself. I asked Fedor to stay where he was and not move anymore. Then I put the carbine back on the staff's slingshot and stood intently (as much as it was possible at dusk) consider the moose and its horns. Almost the entire body of the moose was covered with a willow. I could clearly see the head with horns thanks to the excellent optics of LEUPOLD. The difference between a high-class sight is that at a critical moment it is its "slightly" better aperture that allows you to consider exactly what you need. But I could not say with certainty that the trophy was worthy, since it did not show up in its entirety.        We were standing in an open place among swampy hummocks. Our feet were up to ankles in water.  Chills from the evening frost, fatigue, a cold infection and cold water covered my entire body. I realized that the longer I stood, the harder it would be for me to aim under such circumstances.      And then, His Majesty chance decided in his own way. I didn't understand why but Fyodor suddenly went to the left. The squelching of his footsteps had to have reached the moose. To my surprise, the moose moved exactly in the direction of Fedor's movement. It gave me the opportunity to finally fully see the trophy. All that happened in some moments.  I could clearly see the shovels of the horns and the long ends of the appendages. I calculated in my mind all the consequences of that day hike, my physical condition and the changeability of the Yakut weather, as well as a relatively good trophy, I decided that I would shoot as soon as possible. I suddenly felt that my whole body was already shivering from the cold when clung to the eyepiece of the sight.  The moment of truth was coming for me as a trophy hunter. I chose a clearing among the willow where I could take a shot at the moose. I looked through the scope, and didn't close the other eye, I controlled the movement of the bull.  I pulled myself together to set me up for a shot. The palm gently squeezed the ergonomic handle, characteristic of SAKO. For a moment, the trembling went away. Moose showed into the field of view of the eyepiece I aimed at it a little. The crosshair was on the body, just behind the shoulder blade.  I touched smoothly the trigger... shot!  And I heard the slap of a bullet on the body of a giant!       The roar of the shot, which broke the peaceful silence of the Yakut tundra, brought everything back to its place. The trembling returned to me immediately. I reloaded the carbine quickly and prepared to take another shot, which Fedor desperately insisted on. But I was absolutely sure that I had hit, as well as that the cartridge and the bullet would do their job. Meanwhile, our moose took two more steps, stopped and ... fell on its side with an anguished groan. I realized that I wouldn't need another shot.  But still kept the carbine ready.  We were at the moose in less than a couple of minutes. It was pass away when we came.       I always feel sorry for the animal I have got, even though it may seem strange to someone. First you shoot – then you regret it?! But the feeling of pity has a different nature. A real hunter is not a butcher. The main thing for him is the hunting process. And confidence is given to you by the realization that you are doing everything in accordance with the Law, the norms of shooting and in accordance with your ethics of a cultural hunter. I took out of my backpack, where all my photo and video equipment lay, a flask of cognac specially reserved for such an occasion, opened it, splashed some on the ground in gratitude to Bayanai and handed it to Fedor. He did not drink, but the situation demanded and he took a sip from the flask. We paid the last respects to my beast; I took a couple of sips. It immediately pleasantly burned the throat and dispersed the blood. It allowed us to take several pictures, almost in the dark, and gut the moose so that the meat would not be lost. A lot of fallen trees, dense tallow undergrowth, soft loamy soil with an abundance of water, which holds your foot like a sucker, made our moving even during the day not easy. It seemed that you pass two, or even three km instead of a kilometer . Walking in complete darkness in every possible way complicated the ability to navigate and posed a danger of bumping into a sharp knot sticking out towards us.       The camp was already not far away, only 1.3 km, judging by the GPS readings.  Thanks to this device, it was possible to choose the shortest path and successfully reach the destination without physical damage.        We were met in different ways at the camp.  The Yakut guides had some doubts about our success. The reason was that everyone heard the only shot, but not everyone believed that it was an accurate one. My Hungarian hunters were absolutely sure that I had got a moose.  We had discussed a lot of hunting topics with them throughout those days, including the ethics of shooting. I explained to them my position on this issue. That's why when a single shot was heard in the camp, they assured the guides that Fedor and I had won a trophy.       Now I will explain what remained for Fedor and me and for you readers behind the scenes. The reason why that moose stubbornly stayed in one place was the presence in the immediate vicinity of the female, which we saw every day from the camp, and which was guarded by that male. In addition, the guides who left Fedor and me earlier that day, saw that male was fighting with another contender for a female just in the very clearing from which I fired the shot. They watched that performance for several minutes and were amazed by the force of the blows of powerful horns and the grace of the movements of the Yakut giants.  The reason why the second moose, we saw, was running and looking back was that it had lost the fight and was afraid of being chased by the moose we approached later.       Then there was a little fuss in the camp, Natasha (our cook) quickly set the table. It was only at that moment that I began to fully realize that I was already the proud owner of the trophy of a typical Yakut moose (Kolyma subspecies). It was impossible not to say a toast of gratitude to our guides for their competent work. Then we paid tribute to Bayanai for his kindness to us and a generous gift in the form of a good trophy. I drank a little cognac, ate a little snack and I apologized to my colleagues and went to bed, as I felt completely exhausted. Illness and fatigue could not but affect.      The next day, after a little rest, we were going to walk to the moose. It was necessary to remove the skin and butcher the meat, prepare it for transportation, take the head with horns to the camp for boiling. And I wanted to take good photos with my honestly obtained trophy. The Hungarians began to congratulate me once again and helped me take good pictures after they saw the giant and its horns. I cut off the beard of the moose without violating local traditions and hung it on a bush of tallow at a height slightly below human height.  We butchered of the carcass quickly and prepared the landing site for the helicopter, which should sit down and pick up the meat.      There were still a few days left before the departure from the camp and we devoted all that time mainly to household chores and cooking trophies. But I would like to highlight one event in particular.        One of us noticed a moose not far from the camp on the opposite slope of the stream. The moose was small by Yakut standards. It was moving towards the camp. I immediately had an idea - to try to photograph it. But it was necessary to get as close as possible. The wind was from the direction of the moose for my luck. The moose relies mainly on the sense of smell and is able to smell smoke at a distance of up to 3km not distinguished by good eyesight It was necessary to take into account the peculiarities of the behavior of males during the rut. They can attack people at this time. Therefore, I chose a place next to a tree so that I could climb it in case of an attack by the moose.       I could not overcome only a fairly high willows, which could be in the frame and make shooting problematic in terms of focusing. I froze among those willow bushes, and watched carefully the huge silhouette of the moose moving in my direction. That male was quite young, no more than 4-5 years old. 50, 40.30 meters. Bushes interfere with shooting. I was feeling the same excitement at that time as I was on the hunt. Then the moose appeared 25 meters away from me and I manage to take some pictures. The shutter clicked treacherously for an animal photographer. The moose stopped and turned its head in my direction. I froze holding the camera near thee face. I knew perfectly well from practice that it was at that time that I should freeze and not a single muscle of mine should move. It took me for a certain part of the environment, and took a few more steps slowly and was already 15 meters away from me. I did another series of camera "shots" and I froze again. The moose took two more steps. 12 meters! It looked straight at me. I was sure that there were one or two good shots, I decided to shoot when that giant was looking right at me. It was interesting to me, at the same time, to study its behavior in that situation. I took all the pictures at that time without moving. The moose heard the noise of the shutter only. But no one had invited it to the photo studio until now, that's why it did not know the nature of the shutter sound. At the same time, I remained motionless, the wind was from the moose to me, which meant that it did not see any danger. So, it stood in thought for 1-2 minutes between me and our camp. I experienced an indescribable feeling of unity with nature at that time, when a huge wild moose stood 12 meters away from me without being scared, and therefore my presence was not alien to the surrounding nature. I could hear it was breathing. I even saw its huge eyelashes and the confident look of its deep dark eyes. I could hardly to describe my feeling of what was happening around me at that moment!    We were all struck by the growth under the lower jaw of that moose, which we simply called a beard. Even local hunters hadn't yet seen a beard of that shape in local moose. A relatively small outgrowth in the front of the beard turned into a wide and long outgrowth closer to the body.      I was able to press the camera shutter button a few more times. The moose froze, looked around and ... slowly disappeared among the bushes and fallen trunks in search of the partner for the continuation of the Kolyma moose. I sincerely wished it good luck and thanked Bayanai for such a close acquaintance with a representative of his kingdom and another generous gift from him.

I was driving along a road broken by logging trucks. Then on the right, then on the left, there were exit roads from the forest covered with planks. It was a sad picture. I was returning home from an interesting, but very difficult hunt. I got a trophy there. But driving a distance of 70 km along a crushed stone road, spoiled all the best impressions of the time spent hunting. There were houses well-built in ancient times from time to time. They all belong to the typical northern architecture, crooked from time and abandoned by the owners. There were whole lifeless and abandoned villages by citizens. It was impossible to realize that the there was XX1 century outside the window, and I was driving through the territory of the country that won the Second World War, which had been living without wars for more than 75 years.       Right, but first things first. I often had to visit the Vologda forests working as an outfitter. I was there with hunters for grouse, grouse, woodcock, bear, moose. But it was my job. It was rare when I managed to take a weapon in my own hands and stand in the evening dawn on a woodcock. The clients were first.      I have developed good partnership and even friendly relations with a very interesting person - the Chairman of the Vologda Regional Society of Hunters and Fishermen, who was elected Chairman for the 9th time this year, Vladimir Vadimovich Kaplin. It was he who invited me to the spring hunt that year.  Hunting in the Vladimir region had already finished and it was just opened in Vologda. "Let's get together!", Vadimych said in his slightly stretched northern dialect, as many of his close friends called him. But it was not close. There were about 700 km away from my house to the place, Anisimovskaya village, Vozhegodsky district, Vologda region. It didn't take me much time to pack everything and I was on my way. It took us about 10 hours drive. But the worst thing happened at the very end, when I already wanted to relax. But it was not there. I had such a test of a broken gravel road. I could endure it for a few kilometers, but that highway stretched for tens of kilometers. I should have to concentrate even more not to fly into a hole disguised by a puddle, clean the windshield regularly, rear and side windows from sticky light-yellow liquid flying from under the wheels of your car and oncoming cars.        Oh, my god! I got out of the car, which looked more like a military armored car by the end of the trip, with small embrasures, and immediately fell into the warm embrace of an old friend. There was no time to hug for a long time. We quickly moved things to a huge house typical for the Vologda region. I accommodated in the cozy room on the second floor of the house, as an honored guest. It was a large spacious room with four windows on two sides. There was no stove in it, but I was used to sleep in any climatic conditions for 30 years, and was glad just to relax after a long move. But not immediately. Vadimych had already cooked a roast as it should be according to all the canons of hospitality, and we all went down to the first floor together. There was a well-built Russian stove. The room was warm and cozy, smelled of food. It was like a paradise for a Russian hunter.       We discussed the latest news and plans for my stay while having dinner.  I managed to arrive even by the time of the evening woodcock flights. After a quick snack, we jumped into the Niva and after 20 minutes driving were already at the edge of the forest, males of woodcock usually flied well as Vadimych said. I was in time even by the time of the evening woodcock flight. It was sluggish and slightly away from our place. I couldn't shoot any bird. Then we returned, drank tea and went to bed for the night. I feel comfortable in my sleeping bag, which always accompanies me on any trips in the center of Russia. So I crawled inside it, and fell asleep immediately.      The morning greeted us with the sun that peeked out from behind leaden clouds occasionally. It often rained, sometimes turning into snow. The North of the Vologda region! The weather was typical for the month of May in those places. Such weather haunted us throughout my stay in those wonderful lands and brought a lot of difficulties to the hunting process. But I’ll talk about it later.       That day was devoted to memories of the past, we did not see each other for a long time. The bathhouse was heated. It’s an obligatory thing on the North. Then started the process of smoking fish caught by Vadimych and his huntsman Ivan the day before I arrived. It was salted already. I was instructed to cut small, 4 centimeters, twigs from the branches of bird cherry. They were needed in order to expand the peritoneum of the fish so that the ribs would not stick together and were well smoked. Soon everything was ready. The fire was burning, despite the strong wind, alder shavings were on a pallet, fish grates in two tiers were loaded into the smoker. It remained only to monitor the fire and the smoking regime.       The fish smoked. It remained to wait for it to cool down and it would be possible to enjoy the gifts of Lake Vozhe. Few details. The lake is located on the border of the Vologda and Arkhangelsk regions and belongs to the Onega River basin. It is elongated in the direction from north to south. The length of the reservoir is 64 km, the width ranges from 7 to 16 km. Its dimensions are impressive. The lake is famous for its pike perch, which is fished on an industrial scale.      We didn't waste time while waiting for fish. The bathhouse had already warmed up properly and just waited for our coming. I could hardly describe everything that a Russian person, besides a hunter, experiences in the Russian bathhouse with an oak and birch broom.      A couple of hours later, we felt reborn, cleansed all the chakras and restored our biological aura. The fish and beer were right we needed at that time.       Meanwhile, the weather did not let up. The strong wind just raged sometimes and tore the roof.  In the evening, the wind died down, and we got a great opportunity to enjoy the woodcock flight. I must say that woodcock flight in the Vologda region is one of the most active and interesting. If the weather conditions suit the bird, you can see up to 20 flights in the evening. On average, 8-10 flights can please the soul of a hunter who has missed of hunting after winter. What else I need as just beautiful woodcock places, good company, a few successful shots and unforgettable impressions. It was dark when we entered the house. But one question still worried me. Time passed, but there were no chances to get out on the grouse. Strong wind, constant precipitation, made hunting on the place where the birds were seating almost impossible. Birds are not so active, but the most important thing is that it will be extremely difficult to hear talking birds.      One more day passed in anticipation. The weather didn’t change. I had to get ready to go back soon, but I hadn't used my chance yet. Vadimych invited his huntsman. His name was Ivan. He was of above average height, about 185 cm, very strong build, who looked at us sullenly. As it turned out later, Ivan also had a very complex character, which presented some problems in communication. Many Northerners correspond to that type as I could judge from my experience. I got used to it during my work and just communicating with hunters. So, I can always establish contact if it's necessary for joint activities.      So, we decided to try to use at least the slightest chance and move to the shore of the lake in the evening. Ivan, like all the locals, built a small hunting lodge by the water and tied a boat there. The nights were already getting shorter in the north at that time. We decided to start in at eight o'clock in the evening. Ivan arrived on a tiller block with a trailer. We loaded our bags and moved. The drive took not more than 10 minutes.      Soon we stopped at the edge of the forest. It was obvious that there was a road in those places some years ago. But at that moment it was flooded in places, places were badly broken. Nearby there was a path paved with wide logs. The logs have partially gone into the soft marshy ground. So in some places it was easier to walk on the ground than to use the logs. I asked Ivan how far to go to the lake, and he said that it was not much. I roughly guessed how long it would be. It could take an hour and even more. Distances in Russia are long. The walking man will master the road, and so, we set off, with a backpack, a weapon and a pole in our hand.      Finally, there was a break and the reflections of the waves driven by the wind. Then we saw the cabin. It was possible to approach it only by water in waders because of the flood. The locals try to lift the huts on stilts or put them away from the water's edge knowing the scale of floods in these places. The interior was a typical hunter's hut. There was an iron stove in the corner to the left. To the right was a table with two chairs. There was a bunk bed directly opposite the entrance at the far wall. In general, it was possible to spend the night and warm up in any weather. Ivan melted the stove quickly, scooped up water with a teapot right at the threshold and put it on the stove. We settled down at the table.       Meanwhile, the weather did not let up.  Sharp and strong gusts of wind and fine rain did not promise good prospects for capercaillie hunting. Sometimes the wind subsided a little. The door of the hut was open. We looked at the water in the hope that the drops would stop beating on the water surface. A woodcock croaked right above the hut. Then the second one. A couple of teals landed just right in front of the open door; The male began immediately to take care of the proud female.       Ragged clouds that were flying high were thickening the twilight. It doesn't get very dark in the north at this time. The kettle boiled and Ivan came out of the hut for currants. There on the North they call in it in different way. In general, the northern Vologda dialect is very interesting and I can talk about it separately. But not now. Five minutes later we were drinking a fragrant currant drink with the addition of tea, so I would call that elixir of northern health.  We drank one cup of tea, then another. Later we drank one more. We were drinking it slowly, steadily enjoying each sip.      And talk. It normal in such situations, when there is a lot of time before the hunt itself, and you discuss various topics with your companion, some of which are not even related to hunting. But the main theme was capercaillie hunting.      Ivan told me that the capercaillie place was located on a small hill near the water's edge.  The birds were talking, seating on the high pine trees. The place was good, not known by hunters. The huntsman was full or responsibility to his job and tried to protect him from uninvited guest poachers.  He was sure that the birds would be there, despite the windy weather.      So several hours passed in conversations and arguments. At two am we moved. It was a little earlier than we planned, but we rowed, so as not to scare the birds when approaching. We changed each other and in half an hour we were on the spot. The boat bumped into a soft, hummocky, swampy shore.      Ivan led me perpendicular to the water's edge. The wind did not abate, it shacked the huge, age-old pines and rustled in their needles. We stopped periodically and listened to talking birds, but in vain. We made one circle, then expanded the second circle. The silence surrounded us. Ivan was already desperate and began to worry. It was not in the rules of a Northerner to cheat. It was obvious that he was already a little nervous. Dawn was getting closer, other birds would start singing soon, and the needed place had not been found. I calmed him down, understanding the complexity of the situation.     We decided to go a little further, into a small swampy lowland. I heard a capercaillie song barely discernible in the wind not even 100 meters away, during the next stop. I pointed out to Ivan the supposed direction and immediately 90 degrees from that capercaillie, another one talked. I could tell by Ivan's face that he himself was very surprised at where the place had moved. But he didn’t admit it. So, we found it. In my opinion, the birds moved there because of the bad weather, wind and rain. Probably, they were not comfortable to sing seating on high pines, . But it was just my thoughts.       There was a swamp with low pine trees, high hummocks and beautiful white moss in front of us. The swamp was located below the traditional place and therefore was less blown by the wind. We clearly heard two singing capercaillie after walking a little forward. Ivan decided to listen to the one on our left, and directed me to the right. Then the most interesting thing began. I had never had such a difficult grouse hunt. I spent many times on such places with hunters or myself, made films and photographs of birds. It was like the art of hiding and approach at that time. It seemed everything worked against the hunter and in favor of the birds.  Gusty wind that was blowing from different directions, then removed the sound, then brought it closer, then took it away. I calculated the arithmetic mean, and moved slowly towards the capercaillie, constantly checking the course and location of the bird. It was generally not difficult to walk. The feet sank into deep moss, but thereby hiding the noise of footsteps. But it was difficult to find a tree behind which to hide from the bird if necessary. The low, sparse pine trees were a poor hiding place for a hunter, and I could be discovered at any moment. I had to constantly view the terrain and trees with binoculars. Nearby there could be a young capercaillie, or a squeaker, as it was also called by hunters. It can't talk like adult birds, but it hears everything around, unlike adults’ birds, which are completely deaf during talking. There were cases when it was such squeakers who spoiled the hunting, tearing off and alerting the other birds.       There were about a hundred meters left to the nearest talking capercaillie. Its song was sometimes drowned out by the noise of the wind, then it was heard again. I had already determined the approximate route of approach.  It became impossible to hide behind small pine trees, so I had to act more decisively. I didn't even have time to take a couple of steps under the next turning, as a heart-rending cry of some bird sounded right above my head. It was difficult to determine what kind of bird cried, but the scream was shrill and somehow even fierce. It was the first time I heard such a strong and audacious cry of birds. It finally drowned out the sound of the capercaillie song for a while. The wind added complexity to the situation.  The capercaillie also quieted down. Probably, it has been wary, since forest dwellers are good at detecting the sounds of danger of other animals and birds.        It screamed a couple of minutes. The bird broke and flew away. The capercaillie began to sing again.  I was slowly approaching him. Then, a small clearing covered with moss opened 30-40 meters away, which was surrounded by low pine trees. I stopped next to one of them in the hope of finding a bird. The capercaillie fell silent. I froze. The gun was in the right hand and on the forearm of the left. I couldn't even move my head. I was standing in an open area with no cover. The wind still shook the tops of the pines in gusts. The capercaillie, who was behind the one I was going to, began to sing. I didn’t move.      Suddenly I heard a timid sounds, it became louder and, finally it began to sing. I was peering into the pines that stood on the other side of the clearing, and noticed that one of the tops of the pines was swaying not because of the wind. It was rocked by a talking capercaillie. But it was not so easy to see the bird itself.  There were cases when I walked around a lonely pine tree with a client for more than 10 minutes, but I could not see the capercaillie then. As a result, it flew away.     Finally, I saw the black head of a capercaillie above one of the branches. I stood motionless. The capercaillie brought out its melody again. I already understood where and, most importantly, how it was sitting on that pine tree. The bird was positioned to my right side, with its head to the east. It was 35-40 meters to the capercaillie.  It was impossible to move further. I was completely out in the open and in its line of sight. I decided to shoot. It was still necessary to raise such a difficult MC 21-12 to the shoulder at that moment. I started to raise my rifle very slowly. The capercaillie suddenly fell silent after two songs. Probably it had a premonition of something or noticed me. I froze in the middle of the movement and waited for the capercaillie to sing again. After a long silence, there was a pause again. Then there were few sounds and a pause. I assumed that it could end with the capercaillie would take off and fly away. There was no time to wait.      I determined easily how the capercaillie's body was located and where I needed to shoot. The only problem was how to raise the gun, aim and shoot. It was impossible to make mistakes! When another gust of wind came, I raised my gun to my shoulder and sent a charge at the grouse almost without aiming.      The large dark body of the relic bird fell like a stone into the soft white moss. I was immediately ready to fire another shot but it wasn't necessary. The bird froze, spreading its wings. I approached the defeated old-timer of the Russian forests, stroked its feathers on the neck and body, paid tribute to Mother Nature for sending me such a trophy.        Suddenly Ivan appeared out of nowhere while I was looking at the grouse, the shot charge. It fell just in the place where we usually shoot – a small white spot on the fold of the wing and the base of the neck. He congratulated me on the loot. Probably he didn't believe in the luck of that day because of the difficult weather conditions. He was not very talkative, but noted that the trophy was worthy and he meant the skill with which I got it in such difficult conditions. We made some pictures and went back.       The capercaillie was a typical representative of its northern genus weighing 5-6kg! The heavy burden pulled my hand away pleasantly. I had to carry the trophy in my left and right hands. Nature gave us a little respite from the rain while I was hunting, and again covered us with fine rain. But we did what we wanted.        We also rowed to the hut. Ivan wanted to drink tea but I refused. I wanted to go home. I packed all my belongings in a backpack. And put the capercaillie carefully in the same place and set off on his way back alone. A sleepless night was making itself felt, and I tried to get to the village as soon as possible. The path was passed as in one breath. Then I laid out an honorary trophy in front of Vadimych. He congratulated me. It seemed to me that he was as pleased with the result as I was. We took some photos in memory of our stay on Vologda land and hunting.      I decided to have the rest, then stay on the evening woodcock hunting, and in the morning I would go home So, I managed to enjoy once again a beautiful northern evening, nature, a flight of forest waders, two of which replenished my trophy account.        Vologda has long and forever sunk into my soul and I am looking forward to the next trip to this amazing and beautiful land.   The hunter and outfitter Dmitry Vstovsky.   P.S. I would like to express my gratitude to my friend Vadimych (V.V. Kaplin) and huntsman Ivan for the wonderful time spent together and unforgettable hunting memories.

I seat at my desk in class, close my eyes and find myself in a forest thicket. It's very quiet all around, the pine smell hits my head, and I go, not knowing where to go. There are no thoughts in my head. Sometimes a woodpecker knocks. There is no mosquito. Probably, it's the beginning of April, I could hardly meet the remnants of winter in the forest, all that remains of it is a feeling of coolness and white patches of snow in some places. Time has stopped. I can hear a blackbird singing its tunes. Everything below my feet is purple, or white, and I walk carefully so as not to touch the primroses of the forest. It'd be nice to breathe deeply for the future, to use at any moment of your life, especially when you are tired reflection overcomes, you can catch the taste of spring. The tops of the trees rustled, the old forest creaked, the spring coolness pulled. The mighty old-timers began to speak, the young ones whispered, somewhere in the thickets of bushes a soft but sonorous song of a robin was heard. I stopped to listen, and became an accidental witness of the forest drama.  There was muttering from the side of the swampy woodlands, where it is difficult to pass because of last year's grass and young aspen. Is it really a black grouse? I moved cautiously, and came to the edge of the forest. That's right, a few males were jumping up and muttering in a clearing in the middle of moss swamps, and a few more were sitting right there on the tops of blackened pines. Later, they flew down and also began to strut with an important gait, spreading their wings in different directions, fluffing their tail and frowning their fiery eyebrows. It was the first time when I saw a black grouse place. It was amazing natural action! The coughing females responded to the battle cry and flew from all sides, nimbly breaking into the thick of events, warming up the already militant males. The muttering of the birds increased, and they began to chase each other, getting into fights, pecking at each other's heads so that only the feathers flew. I could barely contain myself, trying to cope with the excitement. I should stand and not twitch, but I was throwing in a sweat. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a gun. I felt a penetrating feeling of some kind of joy, rare, amazing luck, which can be compared with the first independently caught fish, with the first trophy taken, a real enthusiasm. I wanted to run and catch at least one grouse with my hands! On impulse, I began to make my way closer. Then I heard the flapping of wings and chuffing very close. I accelerated my step along the hummocky lowland, bended the head and anxiously pushed the sharp branches of the shrub away from my face in different directions, when suddenly there was a crash from a stand that had fallen to the floor and heard the noise of my classmates' voices. The sun was already shining quite in spring outside the window and lowered its rays directly on my desk, which made it warm and sleepy. My smile and silent misunderstanding of what had happened arouse the interest of the guys, but I hadn't yet fully understood myself where I was, and what actually happened. Nikita was writhing next to me from barely restrained laughter. “Black grouse!” - I said aloud, scratched my head and stretched shyly. Natalia Anatolyevna looked at me and asked if I remembered everything today. Of course, I did. Anyone who saw with his own eyes a black grouse, would never forget it.

My previous experience of hunting in the Caucasus mountains was filled with incredible adventures, full of happy and annoying moments. That hunting for the Kuban Turin in early October in the Karachay-Cherkess Republic was rich with amazing events that it would be quite possible to make a multi-part adventure film based on them. Let me tell you everything in more details. In recent years, at the beginning of the hunting season in August, I send my SUV to the North Caucasus. The car is full prepared for hunting with the latest technology and loaded with the necessary mountain equipment and ammunition. I like that feeling. I get double pleasure: not only from the hunting process itself, but from driving a high-speed SUV and steering on mountain roads. Part 1 My way to there. I arrived at the Mineralnye Vody airport, without luggage. I received a weapon without delay, then loaded quickly into a hunting SUV, which was already waiting for me in the parking lot, and moved in the direction of Karachay-Cherkessia. Three hours on the way flew by unnoticed. I was driving along picturesque roads, where endless valleys with grazing herds of sheep and semi-wild herds of Karachai handsome horses were replaced by mountain landscapes with snow-capped peaks of the Caucasian ridge. Suddenly I felt that it took my breath away from that road, from the incredible views of the Caucasian nature. I realized that hunting for me began at that moment, when I started my journey surrounded by the views of the Caucasus mountains. Later I met with Kemal Batchaev, an outfitter and hunting organizer, with whom we had already become friends. I don't know for what merits, the Almighty sends me so many wonderful people on my life, and especially on the hunting path, and Kemal Batchaev is a vivid example of that. He is a professional in his business, and he is a wonderful person in ordinary life. It was getting close to evening. Kemal informed me that it had been raining in the mountains for two weeks, the roads were washed out, and there was a thick fog on the passes and in the gorges. We had a little snack and drank tea, then changed into warm mountain gear, and moved into the mountains in two cars. It is risky to go to the mountains by one car in difficult weather conditions, it is safer to go by two, the one can help pull the other one if it's necessary. The distance we had to drive to the base camp was 30 km, but it was not an easy way. The road (if you can call it that) was ironed by rain in several places and was cut by a deep track from logging trucks in other places. I had big doubts when saw the condition of the road on which we had to go to the base camp. At first it went along the beds of mountain rivers with a strong current, then it got dark very abruptly and a thick fog began. I was driving focusing on the taillights of the UAZ in front. We crossed several mountain rivers, then the road began to rise higher and passed through the forest zone. It climbed up to alpine meadows in a serpentine, and descended through the passes again. It seemed to me each time when the UAZ, which drove in front of me, driven by Kemal's assistant, a young highlander, a hunter Ashab, got stuck in a mud trap that we would spend the night there, or we would overwinter. But each time it broke out of that ambush in some unimaginable way, and we continued on our way. Could you imagine my surprise and joy when we overcame the next pass, and the fog disappeared abruptly as if someone had turned it off. A magnificent starry sky with a huge brightly shining moon opened overhead, the night became lighter, and lights loomed down by the river - these were the lights of our base camp house. It was our first "impossible was possible" on that hunt. Part 2 Hunting Day #1 The base camp consisted of a small stone house with a simple way of life, in which shepherds live. They call such a dwelling "gosh". A hot dinner of delicious tur meat was waiting for us in Gosh. We went for bed after dinner. I once again looked out into the street before wrapping up in my sleeping bag to look at the magical beauty of the starry sky, and in anticipation of good weather and high chances to finally get the long-awaited trophy of the Kuban tur. The morning greeted us with a gloomy sky, drizzling fine rain and fog coming from the peaks of the mountains. We had a leisurely breakfast hoping that the weather in the mountains was unpredictable and could change several times a day, then we began to prepare to go. We went hunting on horseback. Since Kemal was hunting in those mountains for the first time, the guide Maskhad was with us. He grew up there and knew that hunting area very well. We just moved away from the camp for about 20 minutes, when Maskhad detected a wolf running away at a distance of 350 meters, and I heard the command to shoot. I dismounted as quickly as I could and prepared for the shot, but it was too late - the wolf of gray color and impressive size disappeared behind the nearest ridge. We were upset that it was not possible to get the gray robber, which causes significant damage to the local farmers. The journey to the hunting place on horseback took us about three hours, and it was drizzling rain for all three hours. The sky was finally covered with heavy clouds when we climbed higher on the ridges, wet snow began to fall, and snowfall had already begun with strong gusts of wind, a real blizzard with zero visibility when we got to the place where the huntsmen had seen the big male of the Kuban tur two days earlier. We had nothing to do but to dismount, then we tied our horses to the rocks, and hid ourselves in the nearest rock, hoping to wait out the bad weather. So, we waited there without moving for some time and got pretty cold and wet. It became clear that there was no improvement in the weather and we had to start the way back while it was light. The return journey could be very difficult in the dark in such weather conditions. The local shepherds, hunters who know that area perfectly, lose often their bearings in the mountains due to fog and bad weather and get into very difficult situations. As soon as the blizzard subsided, we hurried back to the camp in order to have time to pass the difficult trails while it was still light, and there were plenty of them on our way. It was dead night when we got to the camp soaked and frozen, then we had dinner and went to bed. Part 3 Hunting Day #2 The morning of the second day was illuminated by a clear cloudless sky, and I was finally able to enjoy the beauties that surrounded our home. A person inside becomes as beautiful and clean as the world surrounding him from the outside, everything changes inside a person from the sight of such an amazing nature, bad thoughts and worries go away, it becomes somehow childishly easy and carefree. We had a quick breakfast, got ready, saddled the horses and moved out to hunt in the same group. We followed the same route as yesterday, but the sensations were different, as if they were different roads in different worlds. Yesterday we were in a limited space, enclosed by a veil of fog, and the day we went it was an endless blue sky overhead with a warm autumn sun, majestic snow-capped mountains, emerald meadows, where I saw herds of legendary Karachai horses. The panorama changed after each pass, and became even more beautiful, I caught myself thinking again: "That's why I still love hunting!". It took us three hours to get to the hunting place, and they flew by unnoticed, we dismounted, tied our horses and went to binoculars. My guides chose an viewpoint that we could see four gorges from top to bottom, as if in the palm of my hand. We looked around carefully but found nothing, changed the location, crossed the pass to another plateau, then made another crossing, but we did not find anything except one small herd with females and young, but they did not interest us in any way. I suggested that yesterday's bad weather had a more global effect, and the animals we were interested in, left that hunting area. The second guide Maskhad agreed with my conclusions. I want to admit honestly that the absence of the animals did not upset me. I got pleasure from the process itself, from contemplating the beauty of the local nature, , how the hunters say in such cases: "Hunting is not a shot," "... there will be a reason to come back again.” In the morning when we had breakfast, I told my outfitter and friend Kemal that I need to return to Pyatigorsk today in order to fly from Mineralnye Vody to Moscow the next day regardless of the result of the hunt, since already on Monday I definitely need to be present at an important meeting in the office. So, I reminded carefully my guides that we should complete the search as soon as possible and return to the camp. But it was not there, Kemal Batchaev would not be Kemal Batchaev if he just took and surrendered to circumstances. He smiled at my suggestion, said that he needed to move away, and left in an unknown direction. He returned thirty minutes later. I saw even from afar, his burning eyes and gait and felt that something was about to begin…At last he approached us and reported that he detected a group of males on the back side of the ridge, lower down the gorge, on the border of the forest zone and rocks. I got up from the spot without hesitation and hurried after Kemal to the viewpoint from where the turs were visible. We came to the place, Kemal pointed me the direction and I saw at a distance of 1550 meters a group of 4-5 males. They were lying motionless on a ledge above the forest part of the mountains. My brain refused to answer the question of how Kemal could have discovered them. Dear reader, that was the second "impossible was possible"! Part 4  Approaching the trophy. Kemal and I decided that to approach the beast for a shot immediately, but everything turned out to be more complicated than we expected. Maskhad, who knew every path in those mountains perfectly well, was perplexed by our self-confident decision. He even tried to to cool our ardor, and informed us that the animals were in one of the most inaccessible places in that area and that even if we managed to approach them unnoticed at a distance of a shot, and even if I shot, then the beast would fly off the cliff after hitting and fall in such a place that it would be impossible to find and get a trophy. Kemal listened attentively to Maskhad's arguments, which he spoke in his native Karachai language, then examined the terrain once again and the route we were supposed to follow, turned to me and commanded "Slava, follow me," and Slava was just waiting for that command. Kemal and I started to approach the male, and Maskhad headed in the opposite direction, where the horses were tied. Dear reader, I could say with confidence that approach to the shot was the most difficult in my hunting career. As a result, Kemal led me to a shot distance of 325 meters. The shooting position was extremely uncomfortable and unstable. I made all the necessary corrections on the optics, but I could not aim confidently in any way, the moment before the trigger was pulled, the earth and stones went out from under my feet, and I slid down several meters and so several times. Then Kemal put something under my feet, I felt a confident emphasis, combined the aiming point under the shoulder blade of the lying mighty male and pressed the trigger smoothly. I heard the characteristic slap of a bullet hit, the tur jumped up, fell off the cliff and flew down, doing incredible somersaults in the air as in slow motion, and disappeared behind a mountain range. I think there is no need to describe my feelings, every hunter knows what it is like to get a long-awaited labor mountain trophy. Part 5 Kemal and I congratulated each other, took a little break, and when the adrenaline level in my blood returned to normal, we began the path to the possible place where the trophy fell. The distance of the shot on the rangefinder was 325 meters in a straight line, but in reality, we walked more than 1.5 km, we forced three ridges, overcame incredible obstacles, walked along impassable animal trails. At last we found a more or less level place, where I wanted to sit down and rest for a while, but suddenly a hissing viper jumped out from under my feet. At first, it took a defensive position, and then went on the attack in my direction. My brain assessed the reality of the threat instantly my lower limbs, without waiting for a command from the brain, catapulted me from that place and when I landed at a safe distance. I turned around and saw that Kemal was standing in the place where the viper was, the snake's tail was writhing over his boot, and the head of the venomous reptile was somewhere under the sole of Kemal's boot and was no longer hissing, soon the snake's tail stopped beating. When Kemal lifted his leg, I saw an impressive-sized viper with a flattened head on a stone. I always tapped and trampled any place before I sat down and rest somewhere after that incident. I didn't remember how long we were walking to the place of the possible fall of the trophy, but when the guide said that we had reached and we had to look on the mountainside within a radius of 100 meters, twilight was beginning. We split up, Kemal went to look up the mountain, I went down. What a joy I had in my soul when I found the trophy of the Kuban Tur , it was "the third impossible was possible". The male was hanging on the mountainside with its horns hooked on a tree, it was a large horned male aged about 10-11 years. I took a few pictures with the trophy, then we started cutting up the beast without wasting time. We decided not to take meat since we still did not understand how we would get out of that remote place. We only take off the cape of the trophy to make a stuffed animal and hidden it from predators on a high tree, and the trophy itself was covered with stones, after removing the insides from it. It was already dark when we finished working with the trophy, and we started to walk in an unknown direction. Kemal turned on some kind of naturally built-in navigator in his head, and I followed him silently, making notches on trees at his command. We ascended about 300 meters up the mountain, came out of the forest zone, and I could not believe my eyes when I saw a Maskhad with horses 150 meters away from us, there was no limit to my joy and happiness, it was "the fourth impossible was possible.” Maskhad knew that there was the only the exit from that canyon in that place, but how Kemal understood it and took us in the right direction remained a mystery to me. We saddled the horses without wasting time and arrived at the camp in the dead of night. But a difficult way home was still waiting for me. Part 7  The way back. Everyone at the camp urged me to spend the night and leave in the morning, but I was adamant that I needed to leave it the same day if I want to be in Moscow on Monday. I collected all my things hastily, loaded them into the car, had a snack on the go, then thanked warmly the organizers and all my companions, I set off on my way back (around 11 pm). Ashab, Kemal's assistant, went with me as the second passenger, assistant and guide. We dropped the tire pressure to 0.9 atmospheres for better cross-country ability, but it became obvious from the very first meters that there was almost no coupling with the road of my special mud wheels. The condition of the road became even worse for two days of my stay on the hunt. The complexity of the situation was that we had to climb steeply uphill for about 1.5 km, then the road went for 30 km along the ridges – that was the most passable part of the way. We drove only 500 meters from the camp, when the SUV in low gear, with all-wheel drive and 4X4 locks, stopped moving. All four wheels were spinning at the same time, but the car stood rooted to the spot and only sticky mud fell off the wheels in large chunks and flew down from top to bottom like mud hail. Fortunately, there were large boulders on the edges of the road, and my guide and I used a winch to hook the cable to the stones and tried to "crawl" up slowly. Every time the winch pulled the car up to the tied stone, we, knee-deep in mud and armed with headlamps, looked for other boulders higher up the road, clung to them and continued to crawl centimeter by centimeter. Together, we overcame about 200 meters more, approximately to the middle of the mountain. Then Ashab told me that there were no more stones to cling to, it was impossible to move on. I couldn't say how I was upset and depressed. It was the dead night and I stay almost alone far away in the Caucasus mountains, covered in mud, with a stuck and immobilized car, I was completely exhausted. There was no danger to our lives, but I began to realize that could do nothing more and that nothing and no one could pull me out of there at the moment. I raised my head somewhere up, looked at the black sky without any gaps, and I turned to the God with a prayer for help. Then I stopped looking at the murky, impenetrable sky and the thought came to me that we could only be pulled out of such a situation by a UFO that flew straight from another galaxy I had just voiced that thought in my head, when SUDDENLY, a faint flickering light appeared from that distant point of the black sky on which I focused my gaze. At first, I thought it was an imagination, but the flickering light was clearly moving in our direction, sometimes it disappeared, but then it reappeared and became brighter and brighter, and then it completely split and we realized that some kind of transport was moving towards us. Dear reader, that was the fifth "impossible” was possible"! After a while we heard the sounds of a heavy truck engine, but it was still very far away from us. I could hardly believe in the miracle that happened to us. There were still crazy cranks in the world besides me who might have some business in the dead of night in the impassable mountains About an hour later, a three-bridge URAL all-terrain vehicle (logging truck) drove up to us. Could you imagine my surprise and delight when I saw my colleague from the Club of Mountain Hunters, Ivan Khromov from the city of Ivanov among the passengers of the all-terrain vehicle. Ivan and I sincerely joked and laughed at each other…… The driver of the all-terrain vehicle took us on a trailer without persuasion and easily lifted us to the top of the ridge. In the morning, my guide Askhab and I reached the village where Askhab lived. I left him at home, and went to Pyatigorsk, where flew to Moscow in the evening of the same day. On Monday morning, I was in the office, as it was planned but an important meeting did not take place, my counterpart could not come - he fell ill with covid)). Take care of yourself)!

It was very interesting hunting in the Sakha Republic in combination with its severity and beauty of the local nature. It started with a 7-hour flight from Moscow to Yakutsk, then we changed the plane and flew to Magan airport, It took us another 1.2 hours, then we drove 6 hours by car and arrived to the hunting site. That hunting, like any hunting began with a reconnaissance ( when we were searching for a suitable trophy).On the second day, the situation was the same. At last we detected a male, my disered trophy, which was at a distance of about 3 km. It was far past 4 pm and our forces were running out, and the frost was getting stronger. It was important not to overestimate our capabilities and the capabilities of the guides, since we alone and there was nowhere to wait for help in such conditions, it was decided to go down and postpone the approach to the next day.The morning of the third day greeted us with a coolness of minus 32 degrees Celsius, but it wasn't a hindrance for the hunter and the choice was made. The height difference from the foot to the top was 933 meters and the whole daylight day. The same ram was standing under us at a distance of 460 meters, I aimed but coudln't shoot. The rifle refused to work when the temperature was 35 degrees below zero. The trophy was gone, but it was a lesson that I wanted to share with those who decide to hunt in extreme conditions. Everything should be perfect, including checking the idle descent.And then the new day came. We took off a new chance of success or failure.That time, the previous misunderstanding had been corrected and I was ready to do my job (a shot). The trophy was discovered, it was decided to approach only the hunter, the steep snow-covered slope holds back the moment of truth, but the beast broke down and flew like the wind down the slope and disappeared. My hope of at least one shot dissapeared too and then appeared on the opposite slope. It was a chance and my hands had already done their job. The roar of a shot sounded like a thunderclap and the defeated beast broke down and rolled down. The hunt took place hard , exciting and uncompromising!

This interview with the unique person, a hunter, a local historian and a writer, was taken from Valery Yuryevich Yankovsky in Vladimir on the eve of 2010. "VAN" means a PRINCE! The year of the tiger according to the Eastern calendar is coming. Why was the tiger so honored that one year out of a 12-year cycle was dedicated to it? Despite the fact that a powerful and formidable bear was not awarded such an honor! Why do people love a tiger? Are they afraid of it more than they respect it? We will try to find answers to these and other questions together with a very interesting person, a hereditary hunter and writer Valery Yurievich Yankovsky. People who are interested in hunting and traveling have probably read the novels and stories of Valery about the Russian Far East, Korea, Manchuria. A fascinating description of the beauty of the Primorsky Territory and hunting for wild animals cannot leave indifferent real adventurers, hunters and nature lovers. You can learn a lot of interesting things about endemic plants, birds, butterflies of Primorye in his stories about the animal world of Primorye. But stories about life in the kingdom of the Ussuri tiger arise particular interest. We decided to turn to Valery Yurievich as a person who saw that interesting animal in its natural habitat at a very close distance, heard its breathing and a menacing growl. D.V. Valery Yurievich, you have seen a tiger more than once from a distance of several steps. How does it look like? V.Y. The tiger is a large representative of the feline. The size of an adult tiger can be 2.5 - 3.5 meters from the nose to the tip of the tail. The average weight of a tiger is from 100 to 200 kg. Once I have managed to get a tiger weighing about 300-350kg and about 3.5 meters long. It was the largest specimen I'd ever seen. This beast is very beautiful and graceful. Its bright orange color with black and white stripes strikes everyone. This fur color is patronizing and harmonizes well with the colors of the autumn forest of Primorye. All the beauty of this graceful animal can be seen only in its native home - in the forest. I have a very negative attitude towards keeping wild animals in circuses, zoos, and especially in mobile zoo cages, where the animals are kept in cramped cages like a prison cell. A tiger is not a beast to admire through iron bars. D.V. Why do you think the tiger is so revered in the East? V.Y. It's not easy to understand the oriental psychology even for me though I've spent many years there and have a rich experience of living in Korea, China and communicating with representatives of local nationalities. The Chinese claim that the Chinese character "WANG" is depicted on the tiger's forehead with black lines - one line vertically and three across - which translates into Russian as "PRINCE, MASTER". So, it turns out that our Mother Nature gifted this beautiful beast with such a sign (a special sign). The tiger inspired fear and respect to the local population and was a symbol of beauty and strength! None could even touch the game got by the tiger. This could lead to the dissatisfaction of the master of the taiga, and it could begin to take revenge on people. D.V. Does the tiger justify having such a mark on his forehead? V.Y. You should take a closer look at how this beast moves and everything will immediately become clear to you. It has truly princely or royal tread: unhurried, proud. I think that the tiger is fully aware that it has practically no enemies in its habitat. It is the highest step of the food chain. The tigers walked calmly around Vladivostok at the time of the beginning of the development of Primorye. They kept in fear the population of Korean and Chinese villages up to the Second World War and during it. They came to the villages and took what they wanted: livestock and dogs, as a true prince took his tribute. D.V. You have been hunting for tigers with your father and brothers for many years. It is clear that any real hunting of an animal in its natural habitat is difficult. It is necessary to know a lot about the beast itself, its habits when chasing. What features of tiger's character make it stand out compared to other wild animals? V.Y. The tiger is very cautious and secretive despite its impressive size. It is very difficult to find it in the forest. The tiger always appeared out of the darkness of the night silently even when we were waiting for him in a crouch and disappeared silently when it noticed danger. A tiger is a very smart animal. It obviously planned its every attack on animals in Korean villages perfectly. We judged by its tracks and the beds that found in the morning near the cattle pen or on the edge of the village. The tiger practically never took risks. It clearly calculated all its actions and movements in advance. The tiger is a very fast animal. When my grandfather started to develop the peninsula, which was now called the Yankovsky Peninsula (in his honor), he bred a breed of horses capable to work in the conditions of the Primorye climate and a large number of blood-sucking insects. Breeding material was imported from mainland Russia and America. It took him many years. And when the first breeding specimens of small but hardy horses were bred, tigers got into the habit to come to the pen and kill and drag mares. Thus, they caused great harm to the results of breeding work. Tiger is the curse of horse breeding. My grandfather Mikhail Ivanovich Yankovsky thought so. The tigers dragged away about 50 heads of horses, not counting cattle from the Yankovsky Sidemi farm in Primorye. The hunters began to guarded the pen at night. But the tiger's movements were so swift and thoughtful that the hunters did not even have time to make a shot sometimes. The beast jumped over the fence of the paddock, killed the horse and disappeared with it in the dark. D.V. If we compare the behavior of a tiger in nature with the bear, is it possible to find any differences? V.Y. It seems to me that it is possible to note the intelligence, resourcefulness and accuracy of the tiger in combination with a huge natural force. I want to cite one case that happened on our hunt. We hunted a wild boar. It was too far to carry it to the camp. We covered it with branches in order to pick up the meat later. When we came for the trophy later, everything was in the same place, except one thing, there was no boar under the branches. The tiger pulled out carefully a pig weighing about 100kg, dragged it 200 meters up and ate it there. There was no sign of a drag on the ground, nor any other traces of the carcass being dragged. We found just few drops of blood on the branches of meadowsweet. A bear in that situation would behave differently. It would just scatter everything to the sides. Then it dragged the pig to the side and would have finished eating it there. The bear would bury the rest, which the tiger never did. D.V. I know that some indigenous peoples of Primorye call the tiger "Amba" (AMBA is the end of something. Explanatory dictionary of S.I. Ozhegova). Why do they call it so? V.Y. Amba is the respectful name of the tiger by the local Udege people or the Taza peoples. There was a time when the tiger was completely superior to man. It was almost impossible to fight a tiger with a primitive throwing weapon – a bow and arrow. The muzzle-loading rifles that appeared later left a very little chance for the hunter to shoot the beast, but also to survive himself, if the hunter could injure the tiger even fatally. My grandfather also had difficulties when hunting a tiger, although he had a more powerful five-shot WINCHESTER carbine. Perhaps that is why such a stable phrase has been born: tiger - amba - the end. There was no chance for a person to survive during a meeting with a tiger, and the end of life was coming for him. D.V. What else would you be able to note in a tiger behavior based on your practical hunting experience? V.Y. Its persistence deserves special attention! There were cases, not often but they were when a tiger broke into a fanza (Korean hut) and carried off the owner. People had to leave one of such houses because of the tiger, which did not give rest, stealing cattle, dogs and attacking people. The tiger made it clear that it was its domain and it was the master there. That tiger pursued a specific goal and sought to be the master of that territory. D.V. And how did the local people feel about the capture of the tiger by your team? V.Y. The locals were genuinely delighted when we shot the tiger that terrorized their village. We used to take out the tigers we got on a cart pulled by a bull. But the tiger's head had to be covered with some kind of cloth when we were passing through the village. People tried to pull out the tiger mustache. There was an assumption that the mustache was twisted and then a man could give it to the enemy to eat. The mustache straightened up under the influence of a person's body temperature in the stomach, and could kill an enemy. There were special imperial teams to protect the local population from tigers that annoyed Korean citizens. They existed in Imperial Korea until its occupation by Japan in 1910. The density of tiger's population was very high. D.V. How did the tiger behave when you followed in his footsteps? V.Y. I should say that the tiger was well aware that we were on its trail. Its intelligence was quite enough to evade pursuit, and become not a victim, but a hunter. Usually it made a big circle, reached its trail and lay down not far behind a stone and waited for the one who was following its trail. Then it attacked the pursuer. So, we lost one of our best dogs named Tori. The tiger could lie in such an ambush for a long time, which indicated its endurance. D.V. Were there any cases in your hunting practice when a tiger threatened your life? V.Y. One day, my father and brother were chasing two tigers. The father saw the tigers at a distance of about 300 meters. He immediately shot and wounded one of them fatally. Then they wounded the second one, but it began to go into the mountains. When they began to approach the hidden tiger, the brother became entangled in the thickets of lemongrass. The father came forward, and the wounded beast rushed at him at that time. He managed to shoot and hit the tiger in the jaw. It saved him from more serious damage because the tiger could not bite my father much. But, despite that shot, the tiger managed to strike with its paw, knock out the rifle, which spun in the air like a helicopter propeller and knock down my father. It turned out to be an old eight-pound tigress. And only two shots of my brother saved my father's life and stopped the beast. The tigress walked a long distance being seriously injured, which indicated its endurance, hid and rushed at the hunters, which indicated its determination. It continued to attack despite several injuries (four in total), which indicated its survivability. D.V. Has the tiger found its reflection in the visual arts of Korea and China? V.Y. I would like to emphasize once again that Oriental people have always had respect for the tiger. The engravings with an attacking tiger were very common in China, as in Korea. The tiger is extremely beautiful in appearance. The artists depicted the tiger because of its beautiful coloring. It remains for us to thank Valery Yuryevich for the fact, he shared with us his most interesting observations of the tiger's behavior. Perhaps this year of the tiger is the year of Valery Yuryevich Yankovsky like no other. Everyone should decide for himself how to meet, what to expect, and how to spend this year. Think about the qualities possessed by this beautiful, powerful and intelligent animal, draw your conclusions and ... luck accompany you!! We wish you all to be a little tiger next year. We wish you to be affectionate like all cats towards their loved ones; smart, patient, calculating and tenacious like a tiger, in their business or at work; determined and hardy as a tiger on the way to his goal. We also wish you to walk proudly just like a tiger through life with your head held high. Be good-natured and fair! P.S. When this material was ready, the author of these lines found out in the news about an unprecedented case of human callousness, callousness and cruelty towards tigers. Eight tigers and one lioness were transported from Khabarovsk to Yakutsk. The drunken caretakers didn't pay due attention to the animals in the cages and simply froze or contributed to the suffocation of the animals from the exhaust gases. Valery Yurievich and I agreed that zoos and, especially, mobile zookeepers should cease to exist. It all looks too mocking in relation to animals. But we decided not to print it. After that incident, we felt that it was simply necessary to talk about it! It's one thing when a person competes with a tiger in its natural habitat, and gives it enough chances to survive. It all looks completely different when such a proud animal as a tiger is doomed to prison existence and death due to the negligence of alcoholics.

Hunting in Dagestan became my debut in mountain hunting! I started to dream about hunting for Dagestan tur for several years ! I have been slowly and confidently moving towards my goal, since then! I bought all necessary equipment, adopted invaluable experience from experienced comrades! It all started back in the autumn, when I first arrived at the Lutkun hunting farm to my friends. The weather in the mountains of Dagestan did not allow us to realize our plans for five days. Previously experienced people warned me that I'd either fall in love with those mountains or became indifferent to them. I will tell you that the severity of hunting, failures and disappointments is brightened up by a pleasant company of professionals, their subtle approach in the most difficult situations, measured and cold-blooded decision-making, as well as delicious mountain tea made on glacial water with interesting stories from the experience of previous hunts! The mountains and the warm welcome of my friends left incredible impressions and I decided to come again, but in late autumn! At the end of November I arrived in Dagestan! After a delicious dinner, it was decided to undergo acclimatization in the morning and conduct exploration in parallel! But in our case, the reconnaissance turned out to be hunting! We climbed one of the peaks, and spent just one hour on it, when detected a good group of turs, and began to observe! A couple of hours later, at a distance of about 300 meters, a nice trophy appeared, there was a command to shoot! Voila! A coveted and long-awaited trophy, the Dagestan tur at the age of 7 became my first mountain trophy! That's it. Just 3 hours of hunting and I got the result! There are several more mountain trophies of Russia in my plans, but this is already next year! Go to your goals no matter what!

https://okrug.ru/pdf/safari-magazin.pdf?fbclid=IwAR0SCzKdb3wgPfUrD7f1cNdaP5927cyDzJu6v3F8ob6NUIV6YIu6Gnz2UcY

The flight from Copenhagen to Kangerlussuaq lasts almost 5 hours. Kangerlussuaq is not the main settlement of Greenland, but large planes arriving from afar can land only there, unlike the capital city of Nuuk. Where it is impossible to build a sufficiently long and flat runway. Therefore, our acquaintance with Greenland began with the village of Kangerlussuaq (I can't call it a city in any way, there are only about 500 people live here). All people go to the coastal settlements from there.They use small planes for that purpose. In my opinion, there are only 2 seasons in Greenland, the season of snow and ice and the season without snow and ice. I was met at the airport by Karsten Lings and his son. Mr. Karsten has long been the outfitter of the traditional hunting for tourists in this region. His family moved to Greenland from Copenhagen when Karsten was very young, he fell in love with this harsh country and does not intend to leave it. His son, in whose veins, thanks to his mother, the blood of the Inuit natives of Greenland also flows, received an excellent education in other countries, but he returned home with a firm conviction that he wanted to work as a guide with his father and help him with the organization of hunting. Already on the day of arrival, we met Karsten's family then had lunch and left the village. We drove to the place where we could test our carbines, and made a control shooting from hunting weapons. Late in the evening we boarded two boats and set off. The centuries-old ice and snow on the slopes of the Greenland mountains thaws a little in July, August and September. Thousands of new rivers are rushing from the mountains towards the ocean at this period of time. Our boats moved along one of these rivers for a couple of hours, the width of the river reached 500 meters. Rivers become full-flowing in the valleys between the mountains and it is difficult to swim along them, because in June of each year the channels can change, so last year's routes often turn out to be useless. A camp with impressive tents had been already settled for us, everything was thought out to the smallest detail, and everything was in its place. A kitchen was set up in a separate large tent. The locals like when everything is on their place. There is the serious competition there, whoever provides optimal service will get the best feedback and attract more new customers. We met the first Muskox males in an hour after left Kangerlussuaq. We could also observe them with binoculars directly from the camp. The next morning, we left the camp and sailed inland. We were moving in the direction and along the coast where we could most likely meet a worthy Caribou male. After an hour and a half, we moored to the shore and continued on foot. Soon we spotted the first Caribou males, but decided to move on and find a more noble samples, since I was not tired of walking at all. The landscape was quite relief, every 200 meters new species opened up in front of us and there were new chances to notice animals. We saw a couple of nice animals at a distance of about 400 meters, but they noticed our approach and moved further away. We were about to go around the mountain to approach them from the opposite side, but one of them suddenly appeared just 100 meters away from us, and Karsten offered to shoot. One shot was enough – the trophy became a 6-year-old male Caribou with the most luxurious horns Its horns were still covered with fur, but the skin had already completely peeled off, so we easily managed to clean them. In general, Caribou males wear clean horns for a very short time there, they start to shed them already in October. Caribous rarely live longer than 8 years in local conditions. We had come across sad evidence of the difficult living conditions of animals in Greenland – the mummified remains of Muskox individuals who did not survive last winter. The main enemy of the local fauna is just the harsh winter weather. Wolves and polar bears wander there in winter, but they usually prefer to be in more northern latitudes. We butchered our trophy on the spot, took it to the boat and returned to the tent camp. The next morning we repeated yesterday's journey, but sailed a little further, and moored to the shore where the permafrost and ice began. The source of that newest river was nearby. We saw a lot of hares and foxes during the voyage. Strangely, but the local hares are even larger than their Central European relatives. But foxes in Greenland are smaller. That time we landed on the opposite shore. Since It was a rut season for the Muskoxen large males were in herds and were measuring forces with other males. We walked about a half-hour when noticed several Muskox males and chose the most imposing one. I fired from a distance of 150 meters, the animal swayed and fell dead. Karsten determined the age of the male - 12 years. It was much harder to carry to the boat the butchered Muskox carcass than the Caribou. That one weighed almost 400 kg. The weather that day was especially sunny, and the nature was picturesque. It was very pleasant to be in such a unique place, on the border between the green-covered land and the beginning of the glacier. Our boat repeatedly got stuck in shallow water on the way back to the camp, Karsten and his son in rubber overalls jumped into the icy water and pushed the boat to a deep place. That's how my hunting trip to Greenland ended. In the morning we moved downstream towards Kangerlussuaq, and in the evening I managed to exchange my ticket and get on a more convenient flight home. Greenland has a special, unique nature. Mr. Karsten has advised me to visit his country in winter, when a hunter sees completely different landscapes and gets a special experience. I am very grateful to Mr. Karsten for the professional organization of the hunt and the wonderful service. I would like to mention his excellent culinary skills separately.

“Real hunting is a real science. Everything has to be taken into account, how it’ll influence or to be used in future. Each new day gives new knowledge, the new episode increases your experience and skills”.  Y.M.: Yankovsky.                        My way to the first bear (2009)   Spring. Kamchatka.     That time we were accompanied by the very experienced guides Yuri and Alexander. Yuri was about sixty years old. He was slightly above average height, slightly burred and constantly made caustic, but not offensive jokes to someone's address. He had been hunting in this area for many years and knew all the peculiarities of the bears' behavior when leaving the den. Sasha was my age and had already spent several serious hunts with me. He was short, had blue eyes, had a higher education and lived his profession and loved nature. You can go everywhere with such guys.  The last member of our tight-knit team was Tatiane- our cook. I also worked with her before. That short, blue-eyed, middle-aged woman seemed to exude kindness and courtesy. She wasn't the professional cook but cooked well and very tasty. She managed to cook us not only various culinary delights, but also bake pancakes, cakes and even a cake in the field conditions of the hunting camp. I called her “the rocket” because she did everything very fast.   It seemed that she did not walk, but flew from the kitchen to the living room, where we ate and spent our free time. Tatiana always tried to create a good atmosphere of home comfort in our hunting den. And she was successful in it.      After arrival to the airport of Kamchatka we immediately drove to the hunting area. The way laid along the only road that connected the south and north of Kamchatka between the Eastern and Middle Ridges. The hunting lodge was located near the foot of the Middle Ridge.      None of us had noticed how 3 hours of the road quickly flew by because we were talking. Then we had transferred to snowmobiles in the small village of Ganaly and continued the 12km long journey through the valleys and foothills of the Nemtik River basin.  The wind and the sun thickened the snow so much on the open spaces that sometimes it seemed that we were driving on asphalt bumps up to half a meter high. Every time the sled attached to the back of the snowmobile fell from another hillock into the pit before the next hillock, our internal organs rushed down with the same speed, and we had to wonder how they could stand it all. But that test of the body did not last long. At last, the snowmobile-ridden road smoothly flowed into a typical Kamchatka forest, which consisted of sparsely growing birch, alder, spruce in places and a mass of various shrub forms, we felt a little more comfortable and were able to admire the beauties of the Kamchatka landscapes. The Eastern Ridge with its snow-capped peaks against the blue sky appeared before us in all its glory.  The bright spring sun beat out a dazzling fountain of reflected rays, which shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow, from the ice crystals on the peaks of the mountains         Soon we crossed a small slope and the enchanting beauty of the mountains was replaced by more mundane colors of cedar elfin and the open water surface of Nemtik. We had to force a couple of streams and one small suspension bridge while driving, which was expertly done by our guides Yuri and Sasha on snowmobiles with sleds attached.      Finally, our caravan arrived to a small hunting camp, consisted of a main building with a kitchen, a living room and several bedrooms, and an unfinished bathhouse. We were greeted by the joyful barking of dogs. Those were Sasha's faithful friends, nicknamed Baikal and Kai. Baikal was already at an advanced age, by dog standards, about 12 years old.  But Sasha continued to take it with him to the forest to hunt. I had the dog of the same age at home and understood perfectly what it meant for a hunting dog to be where it had been hunting all its life. Being in the hunting grounds prolongs the dog's life. We often take them with us, at the first opportunity, even if the dog can’t help us in the hunting process.      We began to unpack their luggage immediately upon arrival. We quickly dragged things into one of the rooms. It was cool in the house. The hearth is a heart of any home that gives heat and makes the atmosphere. Sasha took it upon himself to revive the hearth in the kitchen. Yuri helped Tatiana carry kitchen utensils and groceries. I began to make a fire in the stove.      Soon it became warm. Tatiana prepared a small snack. My guides Yuri, Sasha and I discussed the possibility of going out for exploration. It's time to talk about what was waiting for me on the way to my first trophy of the Kamchatka bear. I started to prepare my equipment, photo and video equipment for the upcoming hunt. The guys studied the area near the base.   Suddenly I heard the sound of an approaching snowmobile. he door swung open and Sasha, like a true gambling hunter, addressed me: “ \We detected the bear! Are you ready?” The interrogative intonation was absolutely inappropriate in that case. Of course, I was ready.    I imagine that situation thousands of times and now it was real. I have a chance to realize my dream. I could hardly convey what a professional hunter felt at the moment when the dream of the hunt was close to being realized.     All the equipment and weapons were almost ready. I dressed myself for hunting with lightning speed, but with thoroughness. We should drive part of the way about 10 km on a snowmobile and then it was necessary to go about 5-6 km to the bear on skis according to Sasha's words. Sasha strapped the skis to the sled while I was getting dressed, then threw on a backpack with equipment, necessary things, took a carbine and flew out of the house. I thought that Tatiana could call me the “rocket” at that moment. But she only managed to shout, according to custom, "Not a feather!", and Sasha and I almost disappeared on the way to our goal, according to the same tradition, sending Tatiana "to hell.”      The path ran through a swampy valley of a small stream. The snow in the daytime was already limp and sometimes we had to pull our iron assistant, a snowmobile, out of captivity of the snow porridge. There were not serious problems as we thought at that moment. We both were in a high spirit. I was driving towards my dream.      The most unexpected and unpleasant things happen unexpectedly always. Nobody could expect that a huge block of ice would break off at the place by the stream, where snowmobiles and sledges had already passed more than once.  The guides should be more attentive and look back more often in such dangerous places, but their hunting passion sometimes prevailed over common sense. Everything happened in a split second, but it all happens in slow motion in my mind. A snowmobile drives along the edge of an ice hummock frozen over the winter. The sleigh runs into the very edge of this ice pack. A huge block of ice breaks off under the right ski of the sledge. The sleigh turns over, and I fly with them into the crystal clear, icy water. I love cold water and enjoy dipping into the ice hole in winter or diving into the snow, but only after I have warmed up in the bath and without clothes. But in that situation, I happened to be in the water not after the warm bath, in all my clothes and with the rifle! Anyone who has been through it can imagine my feeling of invigorating coolness in my shoes and all over my body. I only managed to push my carbine onto the high icy shore standing almost knee-deep in the water. My backpack with all the equipment and things was strapped to the back of the seat on the sled and was completely in the water. I came out of a light stupor faster than my guide because was in the very epicenter of what had happened. My guide couldn't believe what had happened and after he made sure that it did happen, he couldn't move to help me. It seemed that Sasha was already confused that he didn’t know what to do. Sasha looked at me, at the sleigh, and seemed unable to understand what had happened. My scream brought him out of his stupor: “Sasha, sleigh!”. Photo and video equipment together with batteries absolutely doesn’t accept water procedures, as well as weapons, the first thing I thought about when I was in the water and secured my carbine from bathing was about a camera, lenses and a video camera. When Sasha woke up from his stupor and rushed to help me turn over and pull our sled out of the water, it was already flowing from my backpack, where all my belongings were. Neither wet clothes, nor instantly cold feet in boots full of water shocked me, when I realized that all the equipment was still in the water, and I would be left without the opportunity to film my hunt or at least take a picture with my trophy in case of luck.         The first thing I did was to disassemble my backpack when got out on the hard ice. To my horror, I began to take out all the cases in turn and poured out the water, they all were full. The only thing I could only hope was that the water had not penetrated into the very heart of the equipment – electronics. But those hopes were rather illusory. I disconnected all the batteries and opened all the doors that could be opened to check for water ingress inside. It was very disappointing because I had already shot an interesting video and took some good pictures during the hunt. And it could all disappear.       After having dealt with the equipment (later I dried it for two days in a warm room) I started sorting out my clothes. Everything was wet, from boots to jacket. But the hat was absolutely dry! I didn't worry about the camouflage suit that I was wearing on top, because I knew that it would dry out quickly. All other things had to be squeezed out. It's an interesting thing, but not at a temperature of - 10 degrees. Sasha contemplated the whole process silently, He didn’t know what to say or advise, I guessed that he was aware of his responsibility for what happened. I looked at his face, gray with tension, more like a mask, squeezed out a semblance of a smile and said: “Don't worry! We will break through!". Then I seat on the snowmobile and I began to squeeze out my things one by one. Wool socks, winter hunting shoes absorbed so much moisture that I had to squeeze them out several times. It all looked pretty funny from the outside. But I was faced with a dilemma – to continue hunting further or to return to the camp? To continue hunting in such equipment meant a lot of inconvenience and danger to health. No one knew where and in what conditions we could be and how long I’ d have to stay in wet clothes. But to return to the base and to leave another attempt to get my first bear, meant for me to show cowardice and weakness as a professional hunter.   It was possible to return, dry out and go hunting again in a day, but as Vladimir Vysotsky sang in his song "You can turn off, go around the cliff, but we choose a difficult path dangerous as a military path!” That’s why I chose the most difficult path, but the path that led to my long-term goal. I had no longer the moral right to retreat, first of all, before myself. I reasoned that I would not freeze even in wet clothes if I move constantly. Telling the truth, I hoped that the time that I would have to wait out when approaching the beast, was not be very long. It was already afternoon, and the sun was setting very quickly in Kamchatka. We'd return back to the base in case of failure, to warmth and comfort, where we could discuss further plans.      Yuri drove up, worried about our long absence. He was waiting for Sasha and me at the agreed place. The silent scene was repeated a second time. As the guys told me later, there was no such thing in their practice before. I was finishing to wring out my clothes when Yuri turned off his snowmobile and a "deafening" silence suddenly hung in the air, interrupted only by the murmur of water in the stream. It seemed that we could hear the squeak of a mouse under the snow in a nearby glade. Sasha 's question broke the silence: “What will we do next?” That phrase hung in front of all of us like the world-famous "To be, or not to be?  The guys thought that we would all go back to the camp because they didn’t hope to continue the hunt. I tried to keep calm in my voice and in a slightly shaking body from a slight chill, turned my eyes to Yuri, who was still in a state of mild prostration, and asked him: “Where’s the bear?” You should have seen his face. The hitherto gloomy expression on the face of a big and good-natured man was instantly replaced by a gambling and professional hunting passion. He replied without hesitation: “There. On the place. It lays on the slope”. We should ski about 5-6km to the bear. But first of all it was necessary to get on snowmobiles to the place from where we could go skiing. Riding a snowmobile in wet clothes didn’t cause me any delight.  I had to part with my very wet, and very heavy jacket. I hung it by the stream on an alder branch to pick up on the way back. Mittens and a soft case for the carbine were also left to hang there.  Yuri gave me his work jacket. It was black. But the color didn’t play any role, since I put on a mask on top.  A "light" frosty breeze blew over me on the way to our destination. Fortunately, that point was not so far away, and we drove only about 15-20 minutes. My hunting trousers with a membrane helped me out a lot in this difficult situation. The membrane didn’t allow to blow through my legs, and the soft lining still remained warm thanks to the warmth of my body even when wet.      Another surprise was waiting for me at the final destination of the snowmobile. It turned out that my skis from two pairs that were tied to the sled, were broken, or rather one of the skis, in the most crucial place where the end of the ski bends. But I had no choice but to go on such skis. It was impossible to eliminate that breakdown in field conditions. I had to think constantly not break the ski even more, especially on the slopes down.      So, we began to ski. Birch forest. Small streams. Descents, ascents.  Our path ran along another stream at the very bottom of the valley, between two mountain slopes. And then, at the most inopportune moment, my long-suffering skis burst the canvas strap that hold the foot in the ski mount. It was the disaster for me. “I overcame so much obstacles and went them through, - I thought. Shall I stop now because of some kind of canvas strap”. But Sasha, with his usual calmness, said that it was all fixable. He took an "emergency kit" out of his backpack and sewed the strap in just 5 minutes. I was immensely grateful to him. We continued on our way to our bear again.    My ski training from school time and the constant practice of hunting in winter when I used ski when hunting for hares allowed me to move quickly after my guides. The only thing I dreamed about at that time was to get warm as soon as possible. It took about half an hour of constant skiing. it was unpleasant to be in wet clothes, but at least I wasn't cold. Yuri went a little ahead to monitor the situation on the opposite right slope. Sasha and I were moving forward on the right slope and watching the left slope. The bear was lying on that slope, and we should have to approach the distance of the shot. There were about 3-4km to our aim when we could distinguish only a small dark point but Yuri, thanks to his vast hunting experience, was able to recognize a bear from a distance of 5-6km. The bear could be seen only when it got up to change his position. It was lying on a small mountain shelf right on the mountainside. We could see pnly one-fifth of its entire torso. I was surprised by the ability of local guides to notice the beast from a great distance, but at the same time deserved the greatest respect.     We weren’t far from it. Our team had to constantly monitor the bear so as not to betray our presence. The sight, hearing and sense of smell of an animal was always several times sharper than that of a human and we should to be very careful despite the fact that we were all in disguises and moved very carefully. The bear could detect us much faster than we could imagine even without having good eyesight. We approached about a kilometer to our bear, when saw another one a little closer to us. It was difficult to notice it, because the bear was half in the den, and only the movement of its front paws or head gave it away. But that bear was definitely smaller and of no interest to us.  The problem was that it could notice us and notify, in some way, another bear. Then everything would be in vain and we would have to turn around and go to the base.  We gathered together, lined up behind each other in a tight line and tried to move as carefully and silently as possible. We should have to cross the part of open area where we couldn’t hide anywhere and to approach our bear. Finally, we reached the bushes 400 meters from the bear. There was a stream behind the bushes, and that was to our advantage. The stream created a natural background noise that hid the inevitable rustling of our skis on the snow.   A steep ascent began immediately after the stream, and 300 meters above our bear laid.      It was difficult for me to choose a place to shoot. I was less noticeable in the bushes, but it was problematic to shoot at a maximum distance of 300 meters, which separated us from the trophy. It wasn’t the best solution to stay and to wait on the open area, because there was a risk to be noticed at any moment. And yet I chose the second option. I relied on my experience of the ability to be in a sitting position in an open place. That position gave a better view in conditions of limited visibility.     I chose a place behind a small sparse bush of tallow. There was nothing except snow around us. The prospect to seat there wet wasn’t pleasant from all sides. I put my hunting gloves on the snow, I had to leave my wet mittens near the stream, and sat down on them. Then I set a carbine next to my staff, which we use when skiing. I did not take a rangefinder or binoculars that time because relied only on an optical sight. I do it often when I hunt myself in conditions where the distance can be determined by eye, and I can see the trophy through the optics of the sight. In my opinion, the distance to the bear was about 300 meters, maybe a little less. I used my trusty and proven SAKO 75 HUNTER 300 WIN caliber on that hunt. Mag.  Cartridges RWS for BLASER with the bullet CDP weight 10,7 gr. I can confidently hit and stop any large animal in Russia with such weapons and ammunition, which I had to experience on serious hunts in Kamchatka, Yakutia and Altai. It was a small matter - to wait for the bear to get up and make an accurate shot. But there is nothing predictable in hunting. Sasha was from the right side of me. Yuri muttered something about the time and disappeared to my left. As it turned out later, he wanted to insure in case the bear would go down to the stream. But the wind was blowing just from that direction and there was a possibility that the bear might smell it, and then we would fail, and I would be left without a shot and without a trophy.    Time passed too slowly... I clearly saw in the sight a part of the bear's head, which it was constantly moving, either licking itself, or just swinging. But it was impossible to shoot in such a situation. There was a high probability that at the moment of the shot the bear would move its head and there would be either a miss or a fight. Both of these results were highly undesirable.   Minutes passed. It was necessary to bear in mind the fact that the day before our faces and lips were badly burned in the sun. Ice and flame converged at once in one body. My feet were already freezing. I tried to keep my hands under my armpits. It had been about 20 minutes since our stop. My body was already starting to freeze. I was especially worried that my hands would get very cold, and it would be difficult for me to feel the movement of my index finger on the trigger. I had to recall army training when shooting in 30-degree frosts in Transbaikalia, where officers taught us to "love" weapons and shoot without mittens.      Only extreme concentration at the right moment could help in situations like the one I found myself in. I remembered a TV show about the British special forces. If you tell the Special Forces that he can't do it, and he will do it. The special forces soldier shot better against the background of fatigue and hypothermia of the body than in a calm environment, thanks to the same concentration of will. Every minute I was freezing more and more and I had nothing left but to prepare for that highest degree of concentration at the right moment. My long-awaited trophy was at stake.    Suddenly the bear abruptly stood up, pointed his muzzle in the direction where Yuri had gone. Obviously, the wind had done its job. We were discovered. The bear examined the entire part of the gorge accessible to its gaze. I clung to the eyepiece of the sight, and realized immediately that the shot was unlikely to succeed. The bear was a cunning and a very intelligent animal. It stood almost completely covered on one side with thick branches of bushes, on the other with a birch trunk. I clearly saw its huge head and paws in the sight. But I didn’t see its body. It was fraught with the danger of spoiling the last chance at that time if I shoot at such a distance at such a small target, and even being behind a bush. Endurance, prudence and lack of fuss in actions are qualities inherent in real hunters. I learned this all my hunting life. I can say that I’ve succeeded a little in this. So that time those qualities played a positive role. The bear moved half a slope to the right and disappeared behind a snow dune. I’ d sworn Yuri for sheer sloppiness or deliberate disregard for precautions and hoped that I would be able to see the bear when it appeared.    I was right. A brown hump appeared from behind the dune, then the whole bear. It was necessary to hurry with the shot, because the bear could disappear again behind the same dune. The wet clothes, the cold that has already reached the bones, and the shivering all over the body were immediately forgotten. There was only concentration on the goal and verified movements. There were about 300 m to the bear. I had caught its shoulder blade in the crosshairs. The bullet at that distance would drop by 20cm and should hit the heart area. The index finger did its job with the trigger with a precise movement. The sound of the shot echoed through the valley of the gorge. The bear disappeared behind the snow dune again. I quickly reloaded the carbine, but I was absolutely sure that I had hit. The bear reappeared from behind a snow dune and was already moving in an open place. It didn't run and moved hard. It was obvious that the bullet had done its job. But it was still moving. The second shot slowed the beast down even more. It continued to move but it was already only going downhill. It always indicates a serious injury. The bear somersaulted, but got back on all fours. I shot again and reloaded. The bear fell down. I saw in the sight large spots of scarlet blood around the beast. We heard a wild roar of a huge predator, from which a slight shiver ran through the body. The bear spun on the spot, fell and got up again, trying to hold on, turned backwards down the slope. It was obvious that its strength was running out. I send the last bullet to the bear under the ribs on the left side. It went through the entire torso and stopped the agony of that monster. The bear went limp and rolled down towards the stream. The carcass of a bear blew into dust a huge rotten tree in girth thick, which was on its way.  Fortunately for us, only four birch trees that stood together, which grew on a bare slope, slowed down the lifeless bear. Otherwise, we would have to pull the bear out of the stream.     There was silence for a moment. It seemed that even the stream had quieted down. The stress of moral and physical stress had gone away. All earthly sensations returned. And the cold took its place first. I did not notice in the heat of the "attack” that my clothes were covered with a light crust of ice outside. Although it was not noticeable through the camouflage, but I was convinced when I started moving. It seemed to me that all my joints creaked when I started to get up. Sasha, who was nearby, congratulated me on good shots and a trophy and immediately moved towards the slope on which the bear was lying. But it was necessary to cross our stream, the depth of which was about 40-50 cm. Guides always wore waders, and Sasha had no difficulty forcing that water barrier. Yuri was already rushing down the slope from the other side. It wasn't so easy for me to cross over to the other side. All my movements due to hypothermia were constrained and uncertain. My brain wasn't working at full capacity either. I dragged myself with all my belongings in an armful: skis, a carbine and a staff on slippery stones instead of just throwing my skis to the other side, and crossing the stream myself quickly over the rocks. The result was predictable. The water element took me into its tender embrace once again. I fell backwards into one of the pits. It was good that it wasn’t a stone. But there was no matter for me. The most important thing was that I got my bear, and the fact that I got wet, so it could be survived. When I came up wet to the guys once again who were already near the bear, they looked at me, and we all laughed together.  Fate?! I examined the trophy. The bear gave the impression of a huge monster created to kill. Huge fangs and claws seemed capable of tearing any flesh. I wouldn’t envy those who found themselves in the clutches of such a predator.    There was no time to relax. It was necessary to take off the skin and return to the base. It was getting dark. I still wanted to take a picture with my trophy. But all my video equipment remained spread out and covered to dry on the snowmobile sled. Sasha's small camera helped out. All together we barely pulled the huge bear out into the open, raked and put snow on one side so that the bear would not roll off the slope into the stream and took some pictures. It snowed a little and a cold wind blew when we were doing this photo shoot. I hadn’t warmed up really after the "war" with the bear and began to freeze further. That's why I had to wring out all my clothes again. But I was no longer used to it. At this time, Yuri and Sasha spread out a tablecloth, where the main dish for me was a 50-degree branded tincture made by Yuri for such cases and homemade lard. It warmed me up and gave me the strength to start skinning the bear together with the guys.    We did everything very fast. The skin was left on the snow with the underside up to pick it up the next day. Together we set off on the return and it wasn't such an easy way anymore.    At that moment I felt what did it meant the complete absence of serious motivation, the body relaxed, my legs became wadded up and it took me a lot of effort to warm up again. Everything ended sometime. My trials were coming to an end. What else would I remember besides the shot, if not for swimming in the Kamchatka creek?    We got to the snowmobiles. We collected all the things, skis, equipment and set off on the way back already in the thick twilight. The sled's seat was also wet and Yuri gave me a sheep's skin, which I was immensely glad and grateful to Yuri for a gorgeous gift in such a difficult situation. It was not very pleasant to meet cold wind and snow while sitting in wet clothes in a snowmobile sleigh, but I was warmed from the inside by the thought of the warmth in which we would inevitably find ourselves after a while.   We took a jacket, mittens and a soft case for a carbine when drove past a familiar stream and continued our way to the base. It wouldn’t be a very big revelation that I was exhausted both mentally and physically for the whole day. To swim in cold water twice, to walk in wet clothes for a total of more than 10 kilometers on skis, one of which was damaged, to sit in the snow for about half an hour and constantly thinking about not letting the bear go away, and to remember the need to move through difficult terrain with the accuracy of a wild cat – it all could not but tire anyone, even the strongest and most prepared person. The only question was how each of us endures all these trials. I still can't help but feel a sense of pride that I not only got such an honorable trophy of the Kamchatka bear, but also has gone through such trials on the way to it.     A snowmobile and a sleigh jumped over numerous mounds of frozen snow, and the words from the song of Andrei Makarevich sounded in my head: "...It's good that there is this happiness way home in the world!”

12 by 10 (or what a snipe hunt can be in September).        One more summer without good snipe hunting. There is the third very hot and dry summer. The meadows drained during the "great achievements" of communism are almost everywhere dry. Snipes arrive. We see them in spring but then after the offspring they fly away, they go to the swamps, where it is not possible to hunt them. When our officials has decided at last to sign the documents on the opening of hunting with dogs, the snipes, namely the old males, are already beginning to migrate to the south.     I usually hunt in August as much as time allows me. I always try to plan my schedule so that I can devote as much time as possible to my loyal friends – drathaars and my favorite passion – hunting with a cop for swamp, field and hog game. But I always have problems with the last one. Grouse should be hunted in the midst of hunting for marsh-meadow game. That's why I prefer meadows. I hunt grouse when they feed on the fields in August, what happens very often.   But the real pleasure I get from snipe hunting with dogs. Hunting - is the most interesting, classical and romantic and I can repeat it many times. Why? Everybody who hunts with the dogs will understand me. But I’ll explain for beginners. This kind of hunting include everything what was invented by our ancestors centuries ago. Hunting with a hound is a classical hunting. This is a centuries-old selection of breeds, and the development of special guns and much, much more. What I personally liked from the first moments of hunting for a snipe was that I moved a lot and shot a lot. At first, I shot just terribly (according to my concepts). But I have brought about twenty birds from my first hunt with my first dog. There were much more birds in the early 90s. The reason was the availability of the necessary biotope for them. The cartridges in my bandolier were running out very quickly. I used from two to four cartridges for a one bird. I always missed the first shot. But I fell in love with this hunt and preferred it to everyone else at that time (August-September).      Then, I began to learn from my dog how to hunt, how a bird behaves under a dog and, most importantly – how to shoot. I always tell everyone that my dogs have taught me to shoot. It is necessary to analyze constantly how the dog works , the behavior of the bird, and then you will be able to choose correctly the position and manner of shooting. The shooting position for me is one of the keys to successful shooting. It is very important not to injure the dog during the take-off and flight of the bird.  Sometimes snipes just lift off the ground slightly and begin to write out their laces a meter from the ground. It’s better to let the bird go without shooting at all for the sake of the dog's safety. It’s interesting but I didn’t visit the shooting gallary while improving my shooting efficiency indicators.       Once I hunted together with the best shooters of our region on parallel places.  I’d heard the rapid shooting from their side and thought that now the guys would bring a couple of bags of snipes. But it wasn’t so.  The number of birds was almost the same when we met at the cars. The experienced shooters were quite skeptical about my stories about the effectiveness of shooting until that moment. But that time one of my colleagues could not contain his surprise when he saw the snipes, I had got, though they all heard just my single shots.  Later, after a little snack, we went back to different places. But my friend still followed me, as he later admitted to me. There was a great example when my dog Quin vom Rauhhaar stood on the counter very close to our parking place. He saw how I shot another snipe with the first shot, and determined for himself that the secret of my shooting lies in where I stand during the shot.  I didn’t try to prove to him that it was necessary to go to that secret for several years and to train more than one dog! You yourself learn from the dog how and where it finds a bird while you train a setter to work properly in the field. You analyze always where and how the bird rises and how it flies at different times. It lasts for several seasons. You can trample several pairs of boots and, sniper shooting is provided for you. Your effectiveness goes through your head, first of all. It is impossible to hunt effectively for such nimble birds as snipes without understanding all of the above factors.  A snipe means a snipe in English. That’s why those shooters who shot snipes perfectly were originally called snipers. I also shot several beautiful doublets at a snipe, a quail, and even triplets at those birds. I shot successfully at three black grouse from the brood, but the most honorable "royal" doublet is always considered to be at a snipe! I would like to tell you how I was lucky enough to hunt snipe.  I should confess that hunting with a dog became for me so an intimate sacrament that I can’t share it with anybody else. The explanation is as simple as the world.  The pace of our life is so high that it is necessary to slow it down and be distracted. Hunting contributes to this most of all for me. like no other type of recreation. The outright decline in the culture of human relations is increasingly forcing me to look for rest in the field. I prefer to go away from rudeness and hypocrisy to the fields, meadows, swamps at least for a while... everything is yours there. The most important thing is your faithful dog, raised and educated by you personally. You have a great mutual understanding and no one will take it away from you and this is what gives equal pleasure to both the hunter and the dog!      It is impossible to know in advance who you will meet a curlew or a snipe when going into a field. There are differences in their habitats, method and time of feeding of these birds, but nowadays they are often found side by side on the same meadows. Here I would like to cite a small passage from the book "Hunting and Commercial Birds of Russia " (publishing house of 1900) Professor of the Imperial Moscow University M. A. Menzbir. He describes in detail about 130 species of birds, and gives methods of hunting them in his work. He illustrates the curlew hunting perfectly. Below is a description of the latter, given by I. I. Danilevsky. “The hunter is revealed only when hunting for curlews, when searching for and shooting them, all as he is; here you can see all his advantages and disadvantages: endurance or hotness, dexterity and agility of the sight. This is also a test of the dog's flair or laziness with which it is looking for a bird. At this time, a beautiful and efficient dog is fully expressed, when it grabs, pulls to the grea snipe and stops with trembling muscles, barely catching its breath; its eyes will be filled with blood and it will barely stand still, waiting for permission to move and drive the bird away. Here it moved, and a gray, well-fed great snipe flew out, slightly waddling from side to side. It grunts, stretches its flight, aligns it, doesn’t suspect that fits the fatal charge of the hunter at this time, with each new flutter of its wings.” The words of an experienced hunter with a good-trained dog are beautiful. The lost color of the speech of the XIX century gives this description a certain mysterious imagery, thereby enhancing the impression of perception of the whole process. That much is beyond dispute.      I always go to the meadows with this idea of this hunt.  Early in the morning, as soon as the wind rises (in our side it is always just after 7 am), my faithful assistant Ulli vom Rauhhaar and I were already in the grounds. The weather wasn’t bad for hunting, but it took a lot of effort to find our curlews due to the complete absence of wet places in the meadows. A steady north-easterly wind was blowing. There were no hopes for the abundance of the great snipes because the entire number of birds had already flown away by that time (the second half of September). There were some hopes to detect a flying great snipe, but no miracle happened. I wasted 5 hours walking all meadows but didn't find any place where the birds were. No great snipe, no corncrake, no quail. We walked slowly with my faithful friend to the car, we both were tired and somewhat relaxed.  It's a ritual that we approach it from the side that always leave untried, in order to check it on the way back.       Suddenly, as it often happens on hunting, when only about a hundred meters left, Ulli suddenly turned into the wind, pulled and froze in the rack. I was not far away and came to the dog. The stance was tense, the dog did not move at my approach, just squinted at me with a glance and focused immediately its attention on the object in 12-15 meters ahead.  I noticed that it always does so when it’s absolutely sure that a bird is sitting there, not far away.  I take the safety off the gun. Then sent it ahead. The dog left energetically and almost at the same moment; a bird flied up in 15 meters away from me. I raise the gun, a shot, the bird fell.  It all took no more than a couple of seconds from the moment the dog was sent, and the bird fell. And how It usually happens in the last and one of the most interesting and exciting stages of hunting with a dog.  Why so fast, an inexperienced hunter may ask. "Read above!” - I should reply to him in this situation. The whole hunting process: raising the gun, aiming and shooting happen at the subconscious level when you practice snipe and great snipe hunting with the dog for years. It became so natural part of me that sometimes I felt uneasy from the fact that my actions were more like the verified movements of a "robocop", they were so fast, calculating and effective.  I practically didn’t make a mistake during several trips to the fields. But I can say so only about hunting for a great snipe, a crake and a quail. A snipe has been always special for me. Sometimes I missed the shot when tried to get a snipe because it was hard to work with, especially for the dog (when there were lots of birds). All troubles in snipe hunting and shooting are in the surprise and unpredictability of the behavior of this bird. It often runs away to the side and takes off, sometimes in 15-20 meters from the place when the dog starts to work on it, unlike a great snipe. That's why I’m not always ready for the bird to take off. Taking into account the fast and agile flight of the snipe and the time that passes until you realize what has happened, the distance for shooting is extreme. It takes time for a charge to fly the distance to the bird even if you aimed it correctly and fired and the bird can change the flight trajectory and to remain unaffected on the next sharp departure to the side. In this regard, I will allow myself to quote Professor M. A. Menzbir once again. "This minute of waiting is good ... and it often goes to hunters on a snipe hunt.” “A very hardy and not very hot dog is needed for a successful and good snipe hunting, which would not rush around the swamp with a quarry, scaring the bird away. A snipe is not a great snipe, a garshnep or a quail, which allow the dog to make a stand; sometimes you even need to scare them yourself because they lie so firmly; a snipe, especially not a young one, doesn’t withstand for a long, and as soon as the dog comes close, it explodes.”   Everything was invented and noticed before us! That's exactly what happens on this hunt. We don't turn to the experience accumulated by our ancestors or make it very rare. Though we all have something to learn from them. So, one more bird! I got the result. But the result was more discouraging than satisfied me. On the one side, it was a success; but on the other, everything happened so unexpectedly and so quickly that Ulli and I almost didn’t have time to experience the full charm of the process.       The car wasn't far. I didn't put the snipe in my hunting vest, but put it immediately behind the driver's seat. The dog came up, sniffed the captured bird again, as if it tried to feel those stimuli that help it to detect the bird, turned its gaze to me and walked away proudly. I knew perfectly well that it was showing its importance to me. As if it said: "How I gave it to you ("apply for a shot")!”  I patted and hugged my friend, paid tribute to the perseverance of its search and the loyalty of its intuition. It was the biggest reward for it.      It was noon. I decided to have a snack and move towards the house. The next thing that I did was to give Ulli a drink and put it in the shade, then I quickly built a fire, fried hunting sausages, drank tea on a golden root, which I always take with me in a thermos for running hunts. The golden root restores strength very well.      I want to remind that the dog spends a lot of effort when working in the field. If we go straight, then the dog passes a few times longer distance with a fast gait. It is necessary to give the dog regular rest. The best way is to put it in the shade, especially if the day is hot. Then you need to give it a drink and wet your head and ears if there is water. The blood vessels are closest to the surface of the body in these places. It’ll help you friend to recover faster.    Then we sat down into our old, but faithful four-wheel drive ISUZU-TROOPER, crossed a small swamp and found ourselves on the new place. I didn't have any special hopes for the presence of birds in this place, but ... the water that squelched under the wheels alerted me. It meant that there could be food for a snipe or a great snipe, and there could be birds. A small spark of hope flashed in my soul. I quickly drove to the nearest bushes, parked the car, released and laid the dog down, took out a gun, and we moved to measure the next kilometers.  Almost immediately Ulli came across fresh bird tracks. We didn’t know which ones but were happy to find any. The dog perked up and wagged its tail, as if it told me that there was something to think about. My inner attitude has also changed. I concentrated and began to follow the dog's behavior more closely. Small areas of meadows with water began to come across. Ulli slowed down his movements next to them and began to unravel the intricacies of smells.  It worked in the water but put its legs very accurately and slowed its movements. Suddenly he froze on the rank, and turned its head slightly to the side. My heart fluttered so that I could feel it beating in my throat. I realized that a snipe wouldn’t stay long in the water (I was absolutely sure that it was a snipe) and began to look closer to the small platform near the water. It was about 15- 18 meters from us. It had no sense for a dog to move and to make much more noise. The snipe would have snapped right away. I began to go it around by the dry ground. I took into account the wind and the direction how Ulli turned and was approaching to the place where it could be. I managed to approach the point I calculated about 20 meters at an angle of about 90 degrees relative to the direction of the dog's stance.  There was a familiar chirping sound, and a snipe took off from the place and went to write out the monograms in air. I’ve expected the bird to rise, but it always happens suddenly and not in the place where I expect.  I missed the first shot then I gathered quickly, and after the second shot the snipe interrupted its flight and fell, flying by inertia for another 20 meters. I didn't let the dog go to the bird's rise at first, called Ulli to me, laid it down and let it calm down. Then we had to find our trophy. My heart was still uneasy, since the trophy was not in the bag.  I assumed that there were other birds on the same meadow. I always take the dog in such cases and slowly approach the place of the bird's fall, not to scare away other snipes.         I approached the place, laid the dog and began to examine the meadow. Our snipe laid not far with outstretched wings. I approached it, took carefully the trophy of honor and returned to my assistant. It needed to sniff the snipe. We sat down next to each other. I replayed everything that had happened in my memory, put the bird in the back pocket of my vest and sent Ulli into the search. It was already more fun that we had found the birds. Probably, it was the autumn flight of the snipes. We passed several places, encouraged by the first successes. Ulli showed some beautiful stands, but I wanted to tell you about two more. Why? They clearly showed the combined skill and intelligence of a setter and the speed of reaction of an experienced shooter.        The place was perfect for a beautiful hunt. A mown meadow with small water holes. The dog slowed down, stopped for a moment and ... froze in tension, pointing to a small mirror of water in the middle of the meadow. I began to approach it slowly, ready to shoot. At the same moment the snipe took off in 20 meters from me. I didn't even have time to raise my guns, as it disappeared behind the nearby bushes. I looked at Ulli with upset. But the dog continued to stand, and it had slightly turned its head to the side. I had firmly learned from all my previous experience to trust the dog, and realized that everything was not over in this scene yet. I guess that there was one more snipe in that direction. And I sent the dog. The snipe exploded, flied up like a candle and abruptly went to the left. The butt was in the shoulder, then the shot. The snipe opened its wings, numbed and planed down. It crashed into an alder tree in 70 meters from us. It caught on its branches and fell into the ditch. I put down and calmed the dog, then sent another cartridge to the store, took the dog and moved to the ditch. We could not find the snipe immediately. There was tall grass in the ditch and on its edge. After about 5 minutes of searching, Ulli froze and pointed to the bottom of the ditch. I parted the grass and saw a snipe that had not reached the ground, and hung on the branches of a bush. My dogs surprised many times with their ability to search for dead game in the thick grass, but that time its behavior was distinguished by special skill in such a difficult situation. That's what I can say THANK YOU to the drathaars for! I didn't lose a single shot bird with them for all the time of hunting! I think that the island setters would bother themselves so much.  I managed to make a classic snipe doublet at the end of this hunt. I decided to finish the hunt, as we were both pretty tired, took our soul away in the process of hunting and were absolutely satisfied with our actions.         So, we were finishing to examine another place. When I notice a place in the corner of the meadow that suited well for snipes that's why I corrected the direction and pulled Ulli close to me. The dog slowed it down and felt something. The ground there was soft. There was not much grass, and we were moving, almost without making noise. Ulli moved slowly and turned its muzzle into different sides. I saw how it scanned with its analyzer a small hole near a hillock about 30 meters away.  It went 4-5 meters and stopped. I began to approach it. I knew about the ability of my dog to feel a bird in 20-30m and decided to go ahead of the dog and only then to send it.   The snipe "exploded” after three steps. I was ready for the shot and hit it almost on takeoff.  Suddenly three other snipes flied up one after the other a little to the right almost simultaneously with the first one. I managed to shoot at the second one. It fell down. Then I turned the barrel to the third one, fortunately it hadn’t fly far away yet and ... once again the gun failed me. My personal thanks to the locksmith Demin N. and the engraver Kuznetsov A. These valiant Tula masters awarded me the MC 21-12 (which was hand-made with personal fine-tuning).  There was a problem with feeding the cartridge from the chamber. Before that I had another problem when the pin of one of the flat springs flew out. The fact was that I failed the triplet for "technical" reasons. It was a pity! I was so close to it. Ulli gave me the second snipe that it took from the ditch. We sat down to catch our breath to move to the car and then home. It was quiet and warm. My tired, but happy friend was next to me. You had nine snipes in the back pocket of my vest, one bird in the car, a beautiful doublet and a lot of impressions. But the most important thing was that I spent a wonderful day, experienced a lot of bright pleasant moments, rested my soul and ... Used just 12 rounds on 10 snipes as the experienced hunter! Good luck on the hunt.

INFORMATION FOR REFLECTION. A warning against hasty conclusions or how the problem of psychopathic shooters has exposed the social problems of society. Analysis of the situation in the country on education, arms trafficking and violence. No sooner had the smoke from the gunpowder evaporated and the blood in the gymnasium No. 175 of Kazan dried, than voices were immediately heard at the highest government level: "Tighten up!", about the rules for the circulation of weapons. All my friends, acquaintances and just sensible citizens were not only alarmed, but also outraged. In this article, I express the general point of view of hunters, heads of hunting farms, hunting biologists, wise people with the life experience from many regions of the country that concerns the issue of such violence. A point of view similar to our position was also voiced on the TVC channel in the program "The Right to Know" from 15.05.2021 with Zakhar Prilepin. But let's find out what is the reason for the periodic outbreaks of gun violence in the country. Hysteria does not contribute to solving the problem, and prevents a competent, logical analysis of the situation with what is happening in the country. A man with a gun is recognized as guilty in most cases. When I talk about “ a man with a gun” I mean the law-abiding citizens who bought weapons legally back in the Soviet era and use them during hunting and moving to hunting. These people know well aware of the danger of firearms and are well informed about the consequences that a violation of safety rules when handling firearms can lead to. These people are instructed several times a year on safety when handling weapons during hunting. Who but hunters can imagine the consequences of violating these rules.     Of course you all have heard about the accidents that occur during hunting and people die from bullets fired from firearms, but… What is the reason for such cases? It's the same. Violation of the rules of handling weapons: shooting at an obscurely visible target, shooting along the line of numbers during a corral hunt, and others. It is necessary to separate cases of violations and disregard of the rules that are UNINTENTIONAL. And cases of deliberate use of weapons for the purpose of murder. In May 2019 two young people were engaged in illegal hunting in local lands. One of them shot a 55-year-old huntsman who arrived with a check. The young people decided that they could do what they want and did not care about the law decided to remove the huntsman from the road in the performance of official duties for the protection of wildlife objects by premeditated murder.       The question: How will the rules for the circulation of weapons be tightened to the citizens who already have it in their hands, but apply it to the people? "The law of the taiga-the bear is the (the one who is stronger or armed) master!” So says one of the proverbs. What can deputies and ministers oppose to this? The conclusion is unambiguous. NOTHING! Where is the cause of the trouble that the civilian population of the country increasingly has to face in cities? None of us hear about the attempts to analyze the situation that has happened in Kazan though is already becoming a pattern. So let's figure it out. It is not the first case, over the past few years, and they are all like a carbon copy. The reasons and motives that drove the lone killers are not disclosed anywhere. Let's try to make a portrait of a 19-year-old killer. We’ll try to make it using the information from the media.     What do we know? He did not pass the session at the technical school and dropped out it. The question: Why wasn't he drafted into the army? The killer's dad was surprised by his son's act. The question: Where his parents were all that time? Did hey seen how their son behaves? Have they noticed that he thinks of himself as a God who can decide the fate of people and can deprive them of their lives, the most innocent category, teachers and children?  The young man wears a mask with the inscription GOD. Do they notice it? He offered his fellow group members to join the sect! The parents leave him alone in the apartment at all and move to another one instead of raising their son. The guy is left alone with his chauvinistic thoughts. It's like a gun in a theatrical performance, if it hangs, it must shoot sometime. There is only one step left before the shot is fired. You have to buy a gun to prove that you are the God.  But first of all you need a medical certificate. He had a mental disease but he received it. But IT WASN’T THE DOCTOR’S FAULT! Was he not brought to justice? And this stage has been passed.     Than one more. District police officer. All hunters know that the district police officer cannot give a permission to purchase weapons without an inspection of the storage site, as well as a conversation with the district police officer himself about the adequacy and ability of storage. The question: Where was the district police officer, who should monitor the entire situation in the territory entrusted to him, including the circulation of weapons? Did he know this guy personally, did he talk to him about life for the adequacy and correct understanding of the laws of the country?  Are there any confirmations of such meetings and conversations? I’m sure that there are none of them. No one reacted to the fact that Ilyaz's neighbor complained about his noisy behavior and ignoring comments. Did you want everything to be like in the West? You got it. Let's speak about the situation in the country with the education of young people. The" beautiful " education reform of Fursenko-Medvedev with its State Exam and the complete denial of the child's ability to have an idea of cause-and-effect relationships.  "The complete absence of cause-and-effect thinking against the background of the twilight of consciousness",- academician, physiologist Pavlov . These words were uttered by him to those who thought that education was tic-tac-toe in post-revolutionary Russia. Livanov - the next minister followed the same way as Fursenko. Then came Vasilieva. People told her that State Exam kills our education but she preferred not to hear it. Maybe she was following someone's command to ignore?! "The very concept of education and upbringing is killing"- said German Gref, who is notorious for his statements about democracy and education. It is clear to everyone that you won't get either knowledge or proper education for a citizen if you sit with your face buried in a computer screen only. The conclusions of the well-known psychologist A. Kurpatov about digital autism, which digitalization leads to, are also ignored. Below are the words of Commissioner for Human Rights in Russia Tatyana Moskalkova and expertise. She suggested that gun owners should regularly undergo psychiatric examinations. A.Kurpatova /https://youtu.be/GbLclnu-QGc "The most important task of civilization is to teach humanity to think!” Thomas Edison. The conclusion suggests itself. Citizens are taught to THINK from childhood! The statement of our famous physiologist comes to mind. If no one is engaged in you, no one tells you what is bad, and every evening on the screens of our TV channels you constantly see films about cop wars, robbery, violence, drugs, the beautiful life of thieves, criminals and oligarchs, and their children from the "golden" youth, then what conclusion can a young guy come to who has not yet managed to do anything in this life, and wants to live for the whole ... . None of the deputy corps and members of the government raise the issue of tightening the requirements for TV content. Why? More than 20,000 deaths in road accidents annually. People drive without driving licenses. We hear about accidents with the death of kids and pregnant women! The children of the oligarchs drive in expensive cars, ignoring traffic regulations and the requirements of traffic police officers that are too soft for them. None of the legislators demands not only to deprive such people of their licenses, but also to take their car as a means of increased danger. Just for comparison. A citizen, who are late a little to submit documents for the extension of the hunting permit for his weapons. Or a person walked a dog by the road in hunting grounds. He is deprived the license immediately And not only license but the rifle too. There is a natural question, we have that the Administrative Code is written for different categories of citizens? In fact, this is exactly what it is. A driver can have a lot of fines, besides not paid, and use the car. But a hunter has practically no right to a universal human error or objective circumstances? Why can't he just received a fine and leave the weapon? It’ll help not to load the already overloaded courts with unnecessary work. Because the citizen passed the courses, provided all the necessary documents for re-registration. Why should a hunter undergo this procedure every 5 (five) years, and a driver every 10 (ten) years? What is the difference? Both the car and the weapon are regarded as means of increased danger. But the degrees of these dangers are not separately indicated. Domestic violence is a huge problem in Russia. In 2019, the Ministry of Internal Affairs recorded almost 22K cases of domestic violence against women. 38% of all murders were committed by the husbands, 35% of women have experienced physical or sexual violence of a partner at least once in their lives. 83% of all women convicted of exceeding self-defense defended themselves from their husbands or partners. The murders are committed with household tools, a kitchen knife, an axe, an iron and just with your hands. Should we put a guard on every woman? Or is it better to educate children to respect women?   What should we do?  I am an officer of the motorized rifle troops of the Soviet Army. I was taught to destroy the enemy's manpower with all types of small arms. I can shoot from a pistol, AKM, AK-74, PKK, PKT, RPG-7, BMP-1 guns. My experience of hunting and handling only hunting weapons is 37 years now. It's 46 years if I take into account the training of the initial military training in school and shooting from TOZ-8. In 2019, when re-registering weapons, I was required to take "courses on training in handling weapons". I can teach those who teach me. A motorized rifle officer is taught how to handle weapons. IT’S ABSURD!  There are many people who have the same experience in the country. The question: Why did they invent to teach people who passed through the army, and some through the fighting in Afghanistan, Chechnya, the rules of owning weapons? It’s the complete absence of cause-and-effect thinking. Isn't there another way how to pull money out of our pockets? It's simple arithmetic. The cost of the course is 2500K rub. The price for the certificates for obtaining a license and extending the hunting permit from 3,000 to 5,000 minimum.   The total is about 7-8K rub. The average pension in our county is 10-13K rub. A pensioner has to pay more than half of a pension for the procedures, that were free in the USSR. For the sake to have everything according to the law?! It was free in the USSR! Nobody killed children and teachers in the schools. How it was. I had to come to the drug dispensary. They checked whether I was registered or not. Then they put a stamp in the general reference, and I went on. The same situation was in the neuropsychiatric dispensary. But there I had to visit the doctor. And It was right. The doctor should make sure that you were adequate. All those actions were free. What is now. The issuance of certificates has turned into taking money from the people. There are long lines everywhere. It happens in the public, not private institutions! Why does the state rob its citizens? Is it poor? Why didn't this happen before?   One of the deputies said that only state institutions should issue certificates. But it always was so.   Who has legalized a lot of medical structures outside the state?      The final and the result of all of that we could see on May 11, 2021 at Gymnasium 175 in Kazan. Khinshtein from the State Duma said that all this happened because there was no security at the school!   Dear deputy needed to remember how he went to school, where there was not only no security, but also a watchman at the entrance. There were no cases of shootings of children and teachers in the USSR at all It was so till the last days. Why do they fear of their own people? Any armed person can shoot the guards and enter the school building and continue shooting. The Ministry of Education has signed a contract for protection with Rosgvardiya for 41 million rubles. I have two questions. 1. Who are the officials protected from? 2. Are the safety and lives of officials more expensive than the lives of children? Judging by the video materials, the school killer was walking down the street with an uncovered weapon, waving to passers-by and no one reported it to the police! What is going on with the people? What does the hunters have to do with it? The district police officer did not even talk to the V correspondent and to explain his actions and inaction. Is this person on the guard of the Law? There are more sects in our country than there are religions. The God Kuzya, the God of the Sun and others with a claim to supremacy. And the new one - the God Ilyay (the school killer).  Isn't it time to think about where it all comes from? There was no such thing in the USSR. There was a single nation – the Soviet people with the friendship of peoples and mutual understanding, as well as with respect for elders and children. Look at what is happening in schools. High school students beat up their classmates and bully teachers. All these things are filmed on video and posted on the net. These facts aren’t given much publicity and proper measures are not taken to stop the propaganda of violence. Internet has been created to promote violence. That is the reason why such people like school killers appear. But nobody asks to tighten it up. What has been done for the last time to to ban violence and its propaganda?       Our legislators have taken from the West all the worst that is possible. We bring up children according to individualism, egocentrism, clannishness and the actual segregation of children according to material wealth. The universal moral norms have been blurred though they were the basis of which generations of citizens were brought up and which helped to pull the country out of the devastation of the 20-30s, make an agrarian country one of the leading industrial ones, win the war and restore a great country in the post-war years in just 5 years.   We must find the root of these murders and solve the problem with education, and not shift responsibility to law-abiding citizens and, first of all to hunters. Or it turns out as always: "Why are you looking for a needle here under the lantern? But because it's brighter here!”            Will you compare the statistics of deaths in road accidents, from domestic violence with the use of knives, axes and other household tools with the statistics of deaths during hunting. Mass murders with the use of hunting weapons such as the Kazan case should stand alone, because the killer was not a hunter but a man who have specially bought weapons for a mass act of murder. We must remember once and for all a simple truth: "A WEAPON SHOOTS, BUT A PERSON KILLS!” It is necessary to work on the education of a person and a worthy citizen of the country. This is much more difficult than to ban or to tighten, it will never give the results that society needs. I would like to object to the increase in the age of ownership of weapons. What is the age to receive the driving license? You can get it from 16 years. Age has nothing to do with it. Look to the USA. Children from 10 year old shoot from rifled weapons and go hunting with their parents, get animals. Where is the crime? We like to look to the West. Look to it. A culture of handling weapons has been brought up there from childhood, without any training courses. You can object that there are lots of crimes in the school. Yes, it's so. But we have the same situation. People who are disillusioned with the social system, who have not found themselves in life or are in some kind of moral crisis make these crimes. But these cases are isolated!!! You should not make statistics on this. Here is a way to solve the problem! Once again. It's not about age. He can be 21 years old, but no one has worked or studied with him. He will have the opportunity to buy a gun and to go to kill!   I haven’t heard a proposal to establish courses for training future hunters. There are such courses for hunters in Germany and Austria. They last about six months and people teach how to own both a smooth and a rifled barrel. So called students pass exams in shooting both from smooth and from rifled. Is this the best way to solve the problem?       I suggested organizing such courses back in the early 90s. They were blowing me off. The experience of raising hunters that was available in hunter societies with the issuance of a hunting ticket was "buried". That's is the reason why we have these school- killers now.    If it was as it were in the past, those hunters wouldn’t have the thought or desire to get a hunting ticket, then buy a weapon and to perform that bestial act in a couple of weeks! if there are such courses, a young man will be able to change his thinking in six month, become a real hunter and wont’ go to kill. If they don’t want to go this way, then it is necessary to tighten and simply block content in Internet where they teach how to make bombs and kill people. Should we oppose such terrorism with a legislative framework? In any case, we will not have any progress in solving the issue of mass killings anyway.   The right to own firearms in the United States is enshrined in the Second Amendment of the Bill of Rights. In the United States, the population has 396 million legal firearms, or about 124 weapons per 100 people. It is the highest indicator (of the armed population) in the world. The mass demonstrations of the citizens that took place in the USA in last year did not lead to mass killings though many of them had weapon. Because these people were aware of their actions and respected the law and other citizens of their country. One American told me that he always has a gun in his car and his wife also has it. When I asked him why, he said that anyone who wants to attack us for the purpose of robbery or murder would have to think that we might also have weapons for self-defense.   I would like to draw the attention of members of our club, public organizations of hunters to the seriousness of the situation and the infringement of our rights to hunt and own weapons. We are calmly watching how lawmakers and Interior Ministry bodies introduce unjustified restrictions and stricter rules on the possession of weapons by citizens of the Russian Federation. It is necessary to learn how to defend our interests and the right to fair hunting, which is enshrined in many statutory documents of organizations. What do we see now? No matter where it happens, restrictions and prohibitions are imposed only in relation to hunters and hunting!   I want to remind once again how it was in the USSR, Historical experience is a great thing. The one who forgets it gets even more problems. Hunting was a separate branch of the national economy of the country. Glavokhota issued regulatory documents regarding hunting and monitored their implementation. There were professional hunting specialists who knew what was good for hunting and hunters and what was bad. The main hunting users were hunter communities. The system developed by hunters and operated for decades culled people like the Kazan shooter. The future hunter was trained at courses at the communities. The candidate had to enlist the recommendations of two members of the society with experience to become the member.  The candidate for hunters was accepted on the Board of hunters. 1 year of probation period included the presence on hunts without weapons, the assistance in conducting biotechnical events, etc. The society, and not the state one were responsible for the actions and compliance with the laws of the young hunter After issuing a hunting card! Any misconduct was discussed at the disciplinary commission, and there they could decide on disciplinary responsibility, or even exclusion from society with all the ensuing consequences. The transparent system didn't allow random people to hunt and use weapons. Were there the same tragedies as in Kazan? I don't remember. Why? Because the system included the system of public censure, that worked.  What is now? Everything is destroyed. Will you ask the hunting inspector who gave the school killer a hunting permit, how did a 19-year-old citizen get it? Did he know anything about hunting and animals at all? Why did a doctor give a certificate of sanity to a teenager with a brain disease? Where was the district police officer, who had to know every man on his territory who had purchased weapons? It was so in the USSR. The police officers communicated with people and knew everybody who had the inclinations to commit illegal actions, everyone who deserved special attention. One more. We try to understand who in the country is responsible for citizens' access to extremist websites, communities and the dissemination of such information in networks? But we don’t have the answer. But people, especially the young ones have to spend there all days and I talk about e-learning. Go to this site, register. Young people were deprived of a normal education, and most importantly, the ability to think. Now they are developing knowledge storage systems in the cloud. Young people are being taught not to think before! Soon, schoolchildren and young people will no longer need brains. Who is responsible for it? Who? I won’t list these people. Because there are many of them. Who is legally responsible for this? There are no answers? Neural networks are also trying to get into our brains. Some kind of "intelligence" should determine the degree of our trustworthiness?! What about the real communication? "A weapon shoots, but a person kills!” What can I suggest? Look back to the USSR and you’ll find all the ways how to resolve this problem. What we need to do for this! 1. The Internet should not be a source and method of education, and even more so of educating young people. Full-time training and communication with a teacher-mentor, and teachers with their parents ! To introduce strict control and blocking of extremist websites with criminal prosecution of managers. To block all sites whose founders or owners are located outside of Russia. 2. To recognize as valid hunting permits issued by public organizations, not only by the State Hunting Inspectorate. In this case, the share of responsibility will fall on the specific persons who issued these permits. The hunter societies, like no other, are interested in the purity of their ranks. 3. To establish training courses for new hunters. The man has to learn how to drive a car , but there are not special courses for future hunters. At the same time, the weapon is recognized as a more dangerous means of increased danger. It is being withdrawn. But not cars. 4. All legislative acts related to hunting and arms circulation must undergo a national expert examination with the involvement of specialists with proper education. To prevent infringement of the humans’ rights in terms of hunting and possession of hunting weapons in accordance with paragraph 2 of Article 3 of the Constitution of the Russian Federation. The specific proposals for improving the legislation should be sent to the relevant legislative and executive bodies. One more. The largest public organization of hunters is Rosokhotrybolovsoyuz.     It stands aside and does not react to such situations as it's happened in Kazan.  It is extremely important to indicate our position and declare that we are hunters, not murderers, and shift responsibility for what happened to those who do not perform their functions assigned to them by the state! The issue is not the protection of schools or other institutions, but in the proper education of people, blocking extremist websites and other information of this kind and creating an atmosphere of mutual understanding in the country. I would like other clubs and public hunting organizations to speak out and indicate their positions on this situation. I know that many of our representatives of authorities are the members of such societies. I want to ask our authority. "Why did you destroy the best education system in the world?” This system worked for decades without changes and gave the country a highly moral society and outstanding scientists! "We try to reproduce the old Soviet, absolutely useless education system and gave our children a huge amount of knowledge that they don't need. We lost the competition, I must honestly say”. German Gref is the Chairman of the “Sberbank". "Education in the Soviet Union is the best in the world, we need to learn a lot from it. The USSR was able to win the space race at the school desk!” John Kennedy. 35 The President of the United States led the very country with which, we should take an example as say some of our leaders. It’s difficult to understand. Time will judge us. Let’s see. As a result of an attack by a man with a knife near the Railway station in Yekaterinburg, three people were killed, the press service of the investigative department of the Investigative Committee of Russia for the Sverdlovsk region reported. This is reported by Rambler. Further: Https://news.rambler.ru/incidents/46428006/?utm_content=news_media&utm_medium=read_more&utm_source=copylink Let’s tighten the rules for selling knives! Life Shot published a correspondence between the school killer and his former classmates that took place five years ago. Where he brought a Soviet recipe for a Molotov cocktail, offered to chip in on the ingredients and burn the math teacher. “She has kids”, - replied to him one of his classmates. This is reported by Rambler. Further: https://news.rambler.ru/incidents/46430427/?utm_content=news_media&utm_medium=read_more&utm_source=copylink   «Ваше благополучие зависит от принятых вами решений»! Jh. Rockefeller. Everything is in our hands, dear hunter friends! Good luck.

It is always necessary to remember those who created and developed the culture of hunting and universal values in our country. No matter what is the name of this Great country from Kaliningrad to Vladivostok! On the birthday of Valery Yurievich Yankovsky-tiger and leopard hunter, naturalist, writer. He would have celebrated 110 this year. “Whatever we do on the Khasan land, we must remember about the Yankovskys’ experience. Their experience in arranging Sidemi is unique and has no equal in the economic practice of the region. On the Yankovsky Peninsula, a whole industry – antler reindeer husbandry-has developed. Its foundations were laid by two generations of representatives of this glorious family." Deputy Chairman Legislative Assembly of Primorsky Krai D.A. Tekiev. I stood near the coffin where he laid, watched the picture, set at the head and made when he was alive and couldn’t believe that he’d never greet me and said “Welcome!” as he was used to say when I entered his apartment where he lived with his wife Irina Kazimirovna. His heart stopped on April 17th, 2010. He did not live a little more than a month before his 99th birthday. he died from hitting the back of his head on a small block of wood in the fall. It happened when he (99 years old) was pulling up on the horizontal bar. A small ceremony hall couldn’t accommodate everyone who wants to say goodbye. People was constantly coming in and out. I knew several of them. But not all. The priest, who was invited to perform a farewell memorial service, began the rite Later the Governor of the region N.V. Vinogradov arrived to pay tribute to the memory of the GULAG prisoner and express words of condolences to his wife, who passed the same GULAG. Vladimir Maykovsky could say about such people like Valery Yurievich, his Dad and his Grandfather - "This is a HUMAN BEING!" I was watching people who were coming in and out. NO! NO! None of them had the inner core and the indomitable will and optimism as he and the members of his family, risen by his grandfather, had. The motherland tried to break them but they remained loyal to the country that became their motherland. Their ancestors ended up here as a result of exile for the political uprising of 1863 in Poland. Valery Yurievich told a lot about life of his family clan and I saw that the feelings of patriotism and love for their native land was brought up in children unobtrusively, gradually throughout their lives. Children were taught to love nature and animals. The elder generation showed them the beauty of mountains, valleys, rivers and lakes, located around there family house in Sidemi. Yankovsky grew roots in their land. They protected that land from hónghúzi and their feelings of love to the native land became stronger. They always knew what they were fighting for. Freedom-loving carriers of highly cultural values didn’t allow robbers to become the owners on their land, the bandits that were used to take from the nature and give nothing back. Russia grew and became stronger thanks to such families but other times came and those who were nothing and who were called nothing came to power. Could those people, who were not brought up on the in the spirit of patriotism and love for the native land, create something valuable and worthwhile. There were no such miracles in nature and in the history of human society. Till the basic and then... Yankovsky family didn't want to see the ruin of their dreams how other people would mock the results of their work and had to immigrate. But even after the great migration, the Yankovsky clan continued to work on what they had begun in Russia. They built the new Novin estate in Korea. How strong were they to start from the very beginning, on the new place? Yankovsky once again demonstrated their best moral and strong-willed qualities. To survive in those difficult period, they began to organize hunting trips for foreigners, arrived to Korea for a hunting exotic. Once Valery Yurievich told me that none of them liked of the outfitter career. It was hard for their free-loving nature to serve to people who were not ready for a hunting and didn't understand and shared their hunting values. Born free and being a free hunters they were used to accustomed from an early age to endure the inconveniences and privations of hunting wanderings, the scarcity of food and the weather vagaries of nature. Those difficulties built their characters, and brought up the skill to work together, to understand the partner. Hunting was actually a school of life and life itself for all the men of the Yankovsky family. They had to have great health, to be in a good physical form and to have deep knowledge of nature, the habits of wild animals, and feathered game to go hunting. Children from their childhood learned to recognize the tracks of animals. They became good trackers and deerslayer already directly on hunts. Their hunting would not have been possible without knowledge of the basics of topography and the ability to navigate in unfamiliar terrain. All family members, including girls, studied to shoot from the very early childhood. There were always a lot of different firearms in the house, including machine guns. The ability to shoot well was in their blood. They all shot a lot and very well. It was the necessity dictated by not only hunting but the need for self-defense. The honghuzi attack (Chinise bandits) during the development of Primorye were not uncommon. The hunter and the writer. Valery Yurievich repeated many times that he didn't understand hunting from the towers that is practiced in many hunting farms. He was used to hunt for several days spending in the forest from one-two days to several weeks. Thanks to his literally talent, we know what kind of animals and how his ancestors hunted. Hunting for ducks, gooses, boars, deer and pheasants are described in all details in his books. The special place takes hunting for Ussuri tigers and snow leopards of the Far East. We can understand from his books that hunting for a tiger was not an ordinary hunting but the fight with the competitor. Tigers caused significant damage to their farm. The tigers destroyed the most valuable breeding material of horses, with which they worked to breed a horse adapted to help people in the development of Primorye. After migration to the North Korea, their family saved lots of locals. In the first third of the twentieth century the Korea citizens were occupied by Japan and had no right to have their own arms. The predators used the situation and the density of their population was very high at that time. The very intelligent and careful Ussuri tigers were known for their special treachery. They dragged livestock directly from the pens in the yards. The old tigers who couldn’t hunt for the livestock entered the dilapidated homes of Koreans and took people. The local boars were not particularly friendly either. The herd of boars could destroy the a crop of potatoes or corn in one of the fields near a Korean village in one night. Yankovsky described his hunts for tigers, leopards, wild boars, roe deer and deer in great detail. The reader can know in what conditions and what clothes people hunted in 30s and 40s of the last century. Those huntings demanded the hunter to be a great physical form, they should resist the harsh climate, when in winter the temperature dropped below -25 degrees and the wind blew piercing. That situations were ideal to present all those moral and strong-willed qualities that were brought up in them from childhood were manifested. The skills of deerslayers and the knowledge of predator’s habits helped them a lot when hunting tigers and leopards. A sense of courage and self-control saved their lives in the most difficult situations. As an example, I remember the scene described by Valery Yurievich when his younger brother saved his Dad when made the accurate shot to the wounded tiger. Arseniy (the brother) was not twenty years old at that time. I think that I will express the opinion of those who have read such works of Yankovsky as "Nanuni the Four-eyed" "On the trail of the tiger". “Korea for Yankovsky” can be used as the textbook for those who want to to understand the mystery of the life and habits of wild animals in nature, about nature itself in all its manifestations. These books will study the reader to love their native land to respect it and treat to it as a person who hasn't come to this world for a single day. The ability to admire the beauty of the first spring flower and the sunset over the sea can make our younger generation kinder and more sensual, which in the era of modern technocracy is illegally losing its relevance. Yankovsky- the writer and the local historian All his books reflect the real events and talk about real people. His heroes were real people who lived near him or visited his farm and his family or accompanied him during his life. That's why the interest in the work of Yankovsky does not fade among specialists in the field of history, local lore, natural history and hunters. His two earliest printed works, "On the Verge of Survival" and "In Search of Ginseng", were clear evidence against the predatory and thoughtlessly irrational exploitation of natural resources and his reverent attitude to nature conservation. The books about hunting and travels to taiga, in North Korea or Manchuria take a special place. The first test of the pen in the genre of hunting literature was "In search of ginseng". That book is the first one where he described the ways of hunting, animal’s habits and behavior of people who were with him in the hunting expedition. He showed how he relied on them in the very serious moments. Yankovsky's attitude to his historical homeland – Primorsky Krai is most clearly expressed in his essay " The Land of the Fathers. Last bow.” he talks about what his native land has become and what it could be. He was shocked that mink farm has been built in the center of their estate Sideme and the the fetid smell spreds throughout the area where the Yankovsky estate has been previously located. Personal qualities. Decency, punctuality, loyalty to your family, native land and country. Valery Yurievich always considered it necessary to express his opinion. I liked the way he was talking because I’m used to hear this language when I was young. “I'm invited” “I’ve taken the invitation” "Bow to your ladies!” It’s an interesting fact that I discovered when he was alive and that was confirmed with absolute historical accuracy after his death. It turned out that both the Yankovskys and the Briners had been guests of one of my relatives on my father's and grandfather's side more than once. They were the guests in the house of Vstovsky, located in 20 versts from Vladivostok. Both families had similar cultural and universal values, that got me closer with the descendant of the famous Yankovsky family. It is difficult to overestimate the contribution of the Yankovskys to the development of the Russian Primorye. They were actually the founders of antler reindeer husbandry, made a great contribution to the botanical, ornithological and entomological sections of all-Russian science. One of the peninsulas of Primorye is named after Yankovsky. One of the species of bunting, named after Yankovsky, lives in Primorye, as well as some species of butterflies. The breed of horses bred by his grandfather was the only one suitable for the development of this territory. They were the first to create a wild ginseng plantation. The exiled Poles Mikhail Yankovsky and Benedikt Dybovsky, as well as the Swiss Julius Brynner, and the Finn Friedolf Heck, can rightly be called the pride of the Russian Far East. These foreigners contributed to the development of the Far East in general and Primorye in particular. Being foreigners by origin, but having become Russians in essence, they defended this territory from Chinese and other bandits and swindlers. It's a pity that honghuzi but in the other "peaceful" appearance develop our Far East, entering there with their toxic plastic goods, supplying our market with fruits and vegetables grown at home and already in our territories with a high content of toxic substances, poisoning our clean Siberian rivers with poisons, in order to purge all amphibians from these rivers. Probably we need new foreigners to save the natural resources of our great Russia, because the Russians themselves calmly contemplate this quiet expansion, with deforestation and plundering of our natural resources.

Dmitry Vstovsky is an interesting interlocutor and has a very rare profession.  He is a host of the programs on TV, makes doc movies and publishes articles in such magazines as “Five Hunts”, “Safari”, “Hunting and Fishing XXI” and hunts.  Hunting has become his style life.  His trophy of the moose, taken in Yakutia got the second place in the world and his Kuban Tur became number seventeenth.  He has great health and steel nerves. How did you become the outfitter? - It didn’t depend on me. I was three years old when began to go to the forest with my parents. I even had my own backpack.  My first memories were about nature, fishing and how we slept in the tent.  I always liked it. Then Russian scouts taught me how to survive in the nature.  First time when I arrived USA in 1989, I visited the scout's camps and was impressed and liked how their staff taught kids how to treat and to respect our nature. (I didn’t know much about them at that time. That's why their movement didn't influence to my development. We should use this experience when training young generations in our county or in the world) Or you can delete this sentence.  I dreamed to be a hunter from my childhood.  I studied in the school #23 in Vladimir and took part in shooting competitions with the usage of rifles and pneumatics.  As long as I can remember, I've been playing sports all my life - football, volleyball, skiing, running, karate, handball. Later it helped my much. All school years I was fond of reading and literature was one of my favorite subjects - especially poetry. Also I liked history, languages. I translated a lot.  I graduated the faculty of foreign languages in my town and studied German language as the second one.  Before the Army I worked in the Intourist agency where got the invaluable experience how to organize touristic trips and learnt the concept of national psychology. Each nation no matter if we talk about Norwegians, Americans, Germans or Austrians has the its own psychological features and the outfitter has to know about it.  It's very important to be polite and diplomatic when you communicate with the representatives of different nationalities on the territory of Russia or in other countries of CIS.  It’s much easier to work when you know the local traditions and respect the history and spiritual values of the people with whom you work. It also helps to find the mutual understanding in the most difficult situations.  My colleagues from Northern Ossetia really appreciated it. It was not an easy matter to become a hunter in the Soviet time.  Fortunately, I became the member of the Hunting community when was in the Army.  I served in the motorized rifle troops and had studied how to shoot from all kinds of small arms.  I am a reserve officer. But I didn’t have the opportunity to hunt there. Thus, I became a real hunter when came back home to my motherland Transbaikalia in 1984.  - What should the outfitter know and be able to do? - Nobody will teach you how to become the outfitter. All people who work by this specialty can be anyone- the helicopter’s engineers, financial analysts or teachers.  But you have to know a lot before you'll start to work.  I always say that the horse health and nerves of steel are very important when you work in this sphere.  The outfitter has to be endurance, in a good physical condition and smart who knows the base of management, taxidermy can speak one or better two foreign languages, and understands in firearms and cold weapons. He has to know the Russian and foreign legislation and be good in psychology.  Just imagine what you should feel when change different time zones each week and constant air travel or experience maximum physical exertions on the heights from 1000 to 5000masl.  All these activities take place in a short period of time from August to December.  - Not to everyone? - Everybody can make it if he has a desire.  I use everything what have studied in my life before.  I dreamed about hunting but couldn't imagine that would become the outfitter in the full meaning of this word.    Real outfitters can be counted on your fingers. - How many of them are in Russia? - Not many professionals.  The fingers of two arms are enough to count all of them.  There is a shortage of responsible people with high professional skills in Russia. There are only a few of them who can substitute the any specialist in the chain of hunting tourism, starting from the guest meeting to the hunting process.  There are the emergency situations when the client has already crossed the ocean to get the trophy but the local outfitter can't get the license because of personal conflict, for example.  What should they do? It damages my reputation and the business suffers.  I have to change everything on the go to find the solution.  - Do the professional outfitters know each other? - Of course, we know. We meet, communicate and have even decided to establish the Federation of Hunting and Fishing tourism (FHFT)and invited other people who are interested in it to join us.  We invite the owners of hunting farms to join us. But they are interested in it because think that we decide all questions without them.  We defend the interests of all sides and our goal is the profitable business for all.  It’s better for all. - Your authority among outfitters and among clients is indisputable. How many years did you work to create it? - You earn the reputation for decades, and you can lose it overnight. That’s why it more expensive more than any profit.  Sometimes we work without any profit just to save the reputation because of somebody’s failure, mistake or arrogance. I should do my best to provide the trophy for the hunter- client with the reasonable trophy features and to leave the best impressions from the trip and from the host.   I often fix bugs of my partners using my physical or moral strengths and time because I have responsibility before the client who crossed thousands km to Moscow and then to the hunting land just to make the only shot.  And if the trip organization is poor it won't happen.  I’m waiting for the group now which has been in such situation.  I know that many owners of hunting lands want to work directly with the clients without us but don’t have all the necessary skills to replace us. They don't realize how difficult it is. And not profitable from the financial side. - Do you have clients who work with you for many years? - One American hunters who recommend me to all friends will hunt with me for the six time.  The American hunters don't understand what and how I do at the airport. But I have to fill papers for arms, trophies, to collect lots of docs and to get permissions.  They see how I run back and forth, then see the result and respect my work. It's one of the way to get clients' loyalty.    - Today I have your own business and a good reputation. Is it time to delegate everything to the others and to rest on your laurels? - It’s a difficult question. I’ve just explained what the man has to know to become the outfitter.  One life isn’t enough. Where can I find such man? All my employees only counted how much would they have in cash.  Our business isn’t one where you’ll shovel money but have to know and to work a lot.  I tried to train a replacement.  I employed two guys. They just bit off a big nut. Buy my daughter helps me. She is a diplomat by training but helps me when it’s necessary and organizes everything on the place.  Not far ago she’d regulated the very serious problem when the representatives of the authority in Yakutia wanted to take off our clients’ weapon.  She called me by satellite and we could manage to regulate the conflict.  Then some people wondered how she managed it. - Are you responsible for the arms on the territory of the country? - It's absurd, but it's true. The legal entity is responsible for the weapon delivered to the territory of Russian Federation and you, as the representative of the entity has to accompany the hunter everywhere.  It's different abroad.  In Kyrgyzstan the hunters gets the permission and he is responsible for his own rifle.  Our Federation tries to resolve this question because it's not logical to take responsibility for the private things of an individual.        Fair hunting - Do you have time to hunt by your own? What trophies have you got? - I celebrated 50th anniversary in this year and my partners presented me a trip to Kamchatka where I hunted for a bear. The peninsula is known by the high-density population of bears.  I hunted after the client who arrived from USA and got his trophy in the first day.  I was driving in the sleds hooked the snowmobile.  We were crossing the stream when the sledge broke the flimsy ice and I and all equipment including the gun fall into water.  The temperature was about zero and water temperature was the same but it didn’t calm me.  I stood knee-deep in water and tried to save the backpack where I put camera.  Then I went ashore, emptied water from the shoes, wrung out the clothes, and  wool socks. The guides were shocked when I fall into water.  You can’t even imagine their faces when I asked: “Where is the bear?” I made it clear that was going to hunt after swimming.  I knew that everything would be ok while I was moving.  I skied about 7 km to the hunting area at that day. I worried that I would get cold if it was needed to seat and to wait. But the bear, we had found, didn't lay for a long and stood up in a half of an hour.  I did two accurate shots and got it from 280m shooting distance.  When we were going back, I fall into water once again when crossed the stream by the stones and carried the ski in the hands.  But  I didn't care anymore about it. We made pictures with the trophy, skinned it and went back to the snow machine. I saw two more bears when we were driving back. It was totally dark about 11 pm when we arrived to the camp.  It was a real fair and labor hunting! It took me three days to dry everything. Fortunately, I saved the film and the movie camera, which is not true of the camera. I had even filmed the hunting report. I like all my trophies but want to tell you about one which means a lot for me.  It's a trophy of moose that I got in Yakutia. I hunted there with three hunters from Hungary.  They all got their trophies and when it was my turn to hunt, I’d got the infection from one of our guides.  I was sick when went for hunting but couldn’t but that chance. I weren’t sure if I’d be there again. The way to the hunting land took us 6 hours flight to Yakutsk then 3 hours more to the village Zyryanka and two hours to the hunting base.  It was twilight when I made a shot from 180 m being absolutely tired and sick.  I refused to fire twice during that day by ethical reasons.  But the local hunting God Bayan gifted me a moose which got the second place according the SCI system and was listed in the International Book of Records  «Safari Club International» (SCI). - How do experts determine that your moose is the second in the world? The experts who do it are certified by the SCI system. - Wild boars are evaluated by the size of their tusks, bears and wolves by their skulls and skins, and there are several parameters for moose such as the span of the horns, the length and thickness of the tips. I received the certificate and a walnut plaque with a gold medal attached to it. But the most important thing is that my name is mention in the Hunting table of ranks on the second place.  - Do the horns stay here in Russia? Do you have a special trophy room with a fire place and trophies on the walls? - No, I haven’t. But who knows? May be I’ll do it. I liked to look through the pictures and remembers how I hunted the trophies when I’m in a bad mood and it helps.  Each of them is a part of my life. I have really nice trophies of the maral, the ibex and the Kuban and Dagestan turs. They are endemics that dwell on the territory of the Caucasus only. But in addition to trophy hunting I really love birds hunting in all forms: on the duck with the approach and on the flights, on the grouse with the decoy, on the black grouse  and on the broods with the cop. I’m fond of hunting for snipe birds with my friends the drathaars. That hunt has the poetry of nature, and harmony when you hunt with a dog and the amazing moment when you shoot.  I relax when hunt in such ways and forget about all problems.

Many years have passed since that hunt, but it is still in my memory. I decided to share my memories about it. 2006 year. Kyrgyzstan. It took us 9 hours’ drive from the airport to the hunting lands. The climbing on 3500 masl is difficult for each person. The only difference is how the physiology of definite man perceives the change in the place of your stay? It was not a problem for me at that time to rise from the plateau to the mountains. I always accompanied hunters for ibexes and Marco Polo sheep and my body was used to significant differences and changes in the oxygen composition of the air. The same heights in Kyrgyzstan are handled much easily than in Pamir. I don’t know why it's so but it’s true according my experience. It’s a pleasure to arrive to the place and to accommodate in the warm cabins of the field camp, no matter they are not so comfortable as the hotel but there is a canteen, a bed and that's enough. Our hospitable hosts cooked tasty dinner while waited for us. The outfitter introduced me the guides with whom I’d go to the mountains next day. We discussed the plan while eating. We should stay few days in the field camp and then to ascend to the highest peaks where ibexes stuck at that time. It was October, the rut season had just begun. From the one side it was good because the males became more active but from the other not so. The adult males, which prefer to keep separate in all other periods, join the herds of females and the young. It’s more difficult to approach the herd to the shooting distance when the surroundings are monitored by both males and females. Chances to make it reduce in several times. But we are the hunters and know all nuances of animal’s behavior and always try to win in this competition. The temperature on the lounge height was not really cold but it dropped to -10-15 C at each night. The guides warned me that it’d be even lower when we would climb. We know the words of famous song “nature doesn't have bad weather” and I can add but you need to choose the right clothes. I’m used to cold in the mountains. Fortunately, I had warm thermal underwear and clothes which could protect me from low temperatures. But my sleeping bad wasn’t so good. It wasn’t bad by its parameters. I bought it on VVC. The qualifil insulation was designed for temperatures up to-15 C. Qualifil is a synthetic material, permeated with seven air channels, what provides poor thermal conductivity. It helps to keep warm inside the sleeping bag. The scientists tried to use the idea of fluff filler for sleeping bags. They did it partially. But there is nothing absolutely perfect in this world. That’s why all temperatures below -15 will be able a problem for my health and physical conditions. I could hardly expect that there were -25C at night in Kyrgyzstan in the mountains in October. The only chance was to get the trophy as soon as possible and to hope that my thermal underwear will protect me if it was cold. Next morning after a hearty breakfast we left the camp. Our group consisted on two guides Almaz, Alik and me. Almaz was of medium height, with a strong build. He was always smiling and could speak Russian, not like Alik, it allowed me to hope that we’d talk a lot while hiking in the mountains. Alik was of medium height too but younger and skinny but he looked strong. They both were good in handy with horses and helped me with harness when it was necessary. It was not an easy matter to harness a horse in such cold. The locals didn’t take care about harness with stirrups, bits and girths and sometimes I couldn’t even fasten the girth belt. The harness wets from the horse sweat during a day, then freezes till morning that’s why it's hard even to straighten it. . I don't know why but the locals in Kyrgyzstan often use the only girth and it makes problems in the mountains. Down, up, and so on all day. The saddle begins to move back and forth, and you feel uncomfortable. You feel as if you can fall back while climbing or to fly over the horse's head forward while riding down. It can be the reason of chafes and the horse can be out of commission because of the serious damages, scuff marks on its back. You should always control and pull up the girth. I should say how my friends from Altai prepare their horses for long expeditions, to compare both ways. Each horse has three girths, a breastplate and a tailpiece. And leather archimakis on both sides. You feel like driving in a car when riding such horse. But I was in Kyrgyzstan. And had no choice. The only way was to adjust to the circumstances. We were going. We rode about three hours and arrived to the field camp. It was located on the height 4000m. There was the only dugout with the stove inside. There was a huge shortage of firewood there, and they used litter or dung for the stove. Could you imagine how warm was there. But it was better than nothing. It’s much better than to sleep on the open air under the sky I know what I talk about. We decided to leave their bags, to have lunch and to go exploring. The local caretaker was already there. He’d keep our things in order and safe. It took us two hours more to reach the place where we were going to hunt. We examined the mountain slopes trying to detect the trophy size ibexes. But there were none of them. Even the females didn't show up. It happens in the mountains. It seams that there are not animals in a definite place and you have to go further. You leave the place but suddenly turn back and see the herd. The animals are real Profi in the art of camouflage and use the terrain in the best way. It was getting dark and we should go back to the camp. We still had enough time to get the trophy. After coming back, we ate dinner and went to sleep. Next morning, we all got up early, had breakfast, harnessed the horses though it was really cold and moved. A beautiful sunrise in the mountains always impresses with a variety of colors. You are the viewer in the theater who seats in the first row and enjoy the performance put on by Nature. You have enough time to admire the show because doesn’t need to waste time to drive the horse. It obediently follows the one in front. The sun gilds the mountains peaks, which shine by virgin white and shimmer in like expensive diamond crystals. But you mustn't forget about the sun and to take care about your face and lips. It's easy to burn under its deceptive rays. You should put on the protective lotion and a lipstick. I know what sunburn is from my own experience. Soon the legs begin to catch the frost from a stationary position in the saddle. You should make stops to dismount and make physical exercises not to get cold and to freeze legs. Next two hours we monitored the surroundings which were the favorite places for ibexes, as my guides assured me. We noticed the group of females with babies and several young males. None of the adult males were seen at that day. We turned back and went to the camp. One of the guides noticed three horse’s tracks that came to the mountains from the side where we had already been before. The caretaker said that three guy who said that they were from the environmental control passed near the camp not long ago. They were going to account the number of ibexes as they said to Beshen. We could hardly imagine at that time what it would mean. We all were tired and dreamed about hot dinner and the warm sleeping bag. I was happy even to eat Doshirak though I hated it in my ordinary life and didn’t eat. But Beshed cooked meat which we took with us and that dish was delicious. I turned to the remedy I had tried not once, to warm faster. You should need to mix black and red pepper in a small amount of vodka and drink it in one gulp. The effect comes very quickly. You shouldn't abuse this tool not to burn the mucosa of the digestive tract. I warned the other fellows about it when Beshen liked it and wanted to take some more shots. Thus, we warmed and went to sleep. Next morning, we left the camp before the sunrise. Once again we found the tracks of mentioned riders when moving close to the hunting area. They led to the small gorge. Our path ran in the same direction. We entered the gorge for 500-700 meters and met those accountants. The first thing we saw was three butchered bodies of the ibexes. Those animals had been accounted already. The hunting lands where that hunt was organized were the private one and all hunts there had to be agreed by the owner. We were sure that they did not notify him about “that accounting”. The guides asked me to make pictures of that crimes to prove their words and use photos as physical evidence. I took on the camera and made several shots. Almaz said that probably he knew who could make it and asked me to make pictures of their faces if we met them in the hunting lands. Suddenly we heard several shots. It was evident that several more ibexes had been accounted. Almaz knew the place from where they fired. We leaped into our saddles and rode to where the shooting was taking place. It took us 30-40 minutes. Almaz was right. Soon we met those poachers. In the East, it is not customary to swear and clarify relations in raised tones or to fight. They began to talk with those guys. I used the situation and made their photos but tried to do it discreetly as if I was making pictures of nature. Later I gave those photos to my friends, the owners of the hunting lands. They called me and told that fired those poachers and brought them to justice. Thus, we helped to identify violations and bring to justice poachers who worked in the government agencies. Telling the truth, it didn't make it any easier for us at the time. They spoiled one more hunting day. We came back without a trophy. The days passed by and there wasn’t any chance to find the male and approach the shooting distance. I began to doubt in the success of our operation. The time limits didn’t allow me to stay there longer but the hunt hadn’t started already. Next hunting day we rode to the mountains with a hope to find ibexes. The frost grew stronger at night and it was harder and harder to get in the saddle in the morning. In that day the guides suggested me one more test that would safe my strength as they thought. They offered to go to the mountains and to stay there until we would get a result. We took all things we needed, including sleeping bags, mats and all warm clothes which I had. Telling the truth, I’m always ready for any challenges in any conditions. But that time I doubted the adequacy of the efforts we did to capture the ibex. My equipment was not designed for such conditions in the mountains. We couldn’t make fire there because of the lack of firewood. They knew nothing about portable burners at that time in Kyrgyzstan. The prospects were not very bright. We were not used to retreat and collected everything, we would need, we loaded the bags and to meet new challenges. It took us an hour to reach the place where we were yesterday but then we turned from the well-trodden path and moved to the left through the gorge to climb the rocky mountains. In an hour we ran into a very steep climb. I looked up questioningly but Almaz said that there was not any other way to go the place where we were going. I asked him, did he climb in that place before? He answered yes, a couple of times and promised trophy size males there. Their favorite place was a plateau surrounded by gorges from all sides. They prefer that place because it's visible from all sides and no humans, not predators can come close being invisible. Nice. What must be must! But how should we bring it to life? It became clear from the first steps that danger is waiting for us at every step. We should go by the narrow path with the abyss from one side and the rock from the other. I put my shoulder against the rock often, and horses were constantly touching the stone by the harness. We dismounted and were rising by foot. The altitude was more than 4000 masl. I felt the first symptoms of the mountain sickness. You don’t feel it when seat in the saddle and don’t move but as soon as you go with the load, you immediately understand what you're dealing with. The path in some parts had been so rough that it looked as if it drained to different sides when I stepped on it. It was hard even to make a step there. But we had no choice. Thanks to my Meindl boots which clung to the rocks plus I helped myself by hands, we moved forward slowly. The horses followed us. It was much easier for them. They are used to such height; the load wasn’t heavy and no riders. We were riding about an hour including several stops to take breath before the next march throw. At last we reached the plateau. Only peaks of inaccessible mountains were higher than we were but we had no need to climb them. We could take a breath and regroup for the next part of the way. One more gulp of tea and step forward. Later we made one more stop and my guides began to watch the surroundings. Almaz pointed to the ridge where beautiful males stood. The group consisted of females and trophy size males. It was the place, my guides had high hopes. And they were right. But to see the trophy didn’t mean to get it. The guys knew how the ibexes moved and expected to intercept them when the animals would go to have rest. We left horses behind the rock, invisible for ibexes. Our group came close to the edge where we could see the valley, spread between two ridges. Just imagine, how surprised we were when the group of five wolves run out from behind the edge. We stood in confusion and didn’t know what to do. The wolf is the predator that has to be destroyed in the first turn. But if we made a single shot, we would forget about ibex hunting in that area. The guides warned me about it. I had to submit to advice and common sense and to restrain my hunting excitement. If I didn’t I would spoil all efforts of the last days including the last dangerous rising. I just managed to take the camera and made several beautiful shots of those predators. It happened that not only poachers - predators but the wolves too dwelled there. That could be the explanation why we didn’t see goats before. The herd stood on the place and we got on the horses and rode, hiding behind the ridges, to the area where the ibexes were. We arrived to the place from where should try to approach the group. The guides uploaded the horses to give them rest. Alik and I stayed to set the bivouac while Almaz ran to look on the goats and to define the plan of hunting. We got out some food and tried to chew it that was difficult, everything was frozen. Tea in out thermoses wasn't hot but still warm. But even warm tea was very welcome. The frost grew stronger and we could hardly bear such low temperatures without warm gloves. We thought that it was -15C. But we didn’t know the truth. It was difficult to say. Almaz came soon. The ibexes were on the place and next morning we’d try to get the trophy. Oh dreams...,- I thought at that moment. And came to sleep. There were several hollows near the rock, where we stopped, we put there our mats and sleeping bags. It didn't take much time. But it was comfortable to sleep. The most important was that you needn't think that you’d roll down by the slope because the cavities protected us from it. We slept like in cradles. I worried about temperature only. How cold would it be at night? I’m used to sleep in the pants or to put on the thermal underwear if it's cold. It helps me to restore my strength. But it was too cold and was getting even colder. I put on the sweater and lay down in the sleeping bag. And put the upper clothes near me. It’s not comfortable to get up in the morning when you've slept in the clothes that has been on you the whole day before. You are more cold than warm when put on the upper clothes after the sleep. I even put my boots close to the sleeping bag to prevent them from being frozen. Thus, we slept under the cover of deep and starry sky. I woke at night when guys were covering me by heavy blanket. It was the horse’s cover or something like that. After it, I warmed and fall into a deep sleep. But the temperature outside dropped even more. I was breathing the frosty mountain air. The temperature was already over – 20. It seemed as we were on the North pole at all. The sharp pain in the throat woke me up. A lump the size of a plum popped out in my throat on the left side. It was an inflamed lymph node. The only thought flashed in my mind. “It's the end of your mountain hunts! You’ll come back to the camp in the morning without the trophy”. I tried to banish those thoughts and still hoped to get the trophy of ibex. The mountain sunrise was beautiful. I saw them mane times but they all are different and I can’t compare them with nothing else on the earth. We began to crawled out from our sleeping bags and to share how we spent that night. I told guys about the lump in the throuat but said that was going to hunt in any case. They gave me a mysterious look. Probably they thought that I was ready to surrender. I put on the frozen clothes and boots while they discussed something on their language. It was a problem. I didn’t know how to warm feet in such situation. I did some physical exercises to dispersed the blood through the body, but feet.. It didn’t help to them. There was nothing to do. We tried to eat something that we could chew. And Almaz suggested the plan. They both would try to direct the herd to the definite side. I should seat and wait the animals in the definite place. They knew the animal’s paths and were sure that ibexes would cross the place where I would wait. Fortunately, that place wasn't far from our bivouac. I understood where I should be and was there in twenty minutes. I dreamed about such walk because hoped my feet would warm. And so it happened but not full. There was nothing to do. I found the comfortable place and sat. The place, between the huge cliff from the right and a small ridge from the left, had a great view. I was invisible from all sides. But could see on 1-1,5 km. There was just one disadvantage. It was very cold. I couldn't seat for a long without moving. There was a huge mountain cup, surrounded by the rocky ridges, in front of me. The sun was rising from the left and its rays shined on the snowy slopes of the ridge that was from the right. The guides told me that animals would go by that ridge. I got out my SAKO 75, cal. 300 WinMag and prepared to wait. It’s not a problem for a real hunter to wait. Those people can spend hours waiting in any climate conditions. Who were the snipers in the war? Almost all snipers before the war were hunters. Why? Because they had been already trained for the war, they could wait for the chance to make the only but the accurate shot. I prepared to spend time there waiting for a chance to get the trophy. Time passed. It'd been an hour or more. There was not any sign of ibexes. I’d got cold and a light tremor passed through the whole body from time to time. At last I noticed first ones on the ridge. One, two, three... About twenty animals had appeared. I could see all the group through the binoculars. But none of them had trophy size. The herd moved slowly to my side. In twenty minutes, the goats were in the gorge near me. I saw females with babies and young males about 2-3 years old. It was not necessary to talk about their trophy characteristics. Their path came through the place where I was and soon they all were in 5-7 from me. Even the females that led the group didn't notice me. I held my breath and watched the animals go. I could even see the lashes on their eyes. It was fascinating though I didn't fire. Not only shot gives pleasure. It was a rare luck to see those animals in their habitat. This was a great pleasure. My hunting principle - to come as close to the animal as it was possible worked well. I wasn’t upset that didn't get the trophy. I was so close to those careful animals, moreover I watched wolves from 70-100 m before. But I couldn’t unnoticed for long. One of the ibexes had noticed me or smelled and the herd took off abruptly and ran down the slope, kicking up a huge column of dust. I watched them go and realized that I could move to keep warm. Then I saw Almaz who appeared on the ridge and gave a sign to go back. Being more pleased than upset I went back to our place and hoped to warm while walking. When we gathered Almaz explained what had happened. There were two big males in the group. But they stayed separated from the herd. When the group went by the usual route those two moved by different way. That’s why I didn’t see them. There was nothing to do. I got used to the idea of a failed hunt. We began to pack bags. It was time to go back. The horses were hobbled but managed to go from the place where we left them. Probably they were looking for food or just walking. Almaz ran to look for them. Alik decided to examine the ridge for the last time and went somewhere. He didn’t go two hundred meters as turned back and waved me, then pointed to the gorge where we saw ibexes. I understood that he detected something. Caught the carbine and ran to him. The tremor and a lump in the throat still bothered me. But nobody would pay attention to such things when there was a chance to get the trophy. I moved by the slope trying to be invisible. Alik said about two males in the gorge. When I asked him how far, he replied far. But I resolved to use that chance. My guides said that they have one more extra licenses that I can use. If I was lucky, I’d get two ibexes. Alike led me to the place from where I could shoot. “How far to the ibexes?”- I asked him once again. “Far!”- he answered. I thought for a moment and took the initiative. Got out the rangefinder and crawled on the ridge. Then aimed it to one of the animals and pushed the button. It showed 204 meters. Ok. Now I knew what meant far for Alik. Not many hunters could shoot more than 300 meters at that time. The locals had smooth barrel rifles and had to approach animals not less than 70 meters to make the accurate shot. But it was not the distance for me. I always tested my guns on those distances. I entered the cartridge, took the safety off and put the soft carbine's cover on the stones which I always took with me and crawled to the edge of the ridge and set the carbine. I like that cover because it protects the carbine and optics from the dust and mud and allows to regulate the carbine position without any uncomfortable positions. I took the comfortable position to shoot. Then set the multiplicity to "8" and only then could I see the animals. There were two adult males but not record sizes. They were not old as I thought at that moment. The value of the trophy doesn’t correlate with its size but with the way you go to get it. Well, the moment of truth has arrived. To get or not to get the trophy. The male was on the shooting distance. I caught its neck in the crosshairs and pushed the trigger smoothly. The shot. The echo of the shot sounded long in the silence of the gorge. The ibex fell down and rolled down by the stone scree. The another one stood and watched how its brother was rolling down and turned its head trying to find the source of the danger. I heard the cheers of my guide and how he insisted I’d shoot the second one. I reloaded the carbine and aimed it to the neck of the second one. The next shot and the second ibex repeated the same way. The powerful cartridge and a good bullet CDP 10,7gr, produced by RWS for Blaser made their work. Alik I didn't hold back his emotions, hugged me and congratulated. He couldn’t believe that I got two ibexes from such distance by two shots only. Telling the truth, I didn’t know who was more happy Alik or me. I guessed he was happy because they’d have enough meat. I felt drained because of tiredness, chill and a lump in the throat. I was just knocked out. And wanted to be somewhere near the fireplace in the armchair. I could barely make it to the bivouac. Soon we met Almaz who had found horses. He was smiling. We packed everything we had and began to descend to the taken ibexes. I’d warmed while we were going down thanks to the sun and temperature that was higher there. I realized that I got those trophies only when we came to them and I touched their horns. It wasn't all in vain! But it was too early to relax. After a short photo session, we butchered the goats and to load meat. It took us two hours and only then we could go back. The way home is always shorter but it was late evening when we reached the dugout. One more night in the field. But next day the very old but reliable UAZ delivered us to the Main lodge. At last I took a hot shower, ate tasty dinner and slept in the bed. The chills and swelling were gone. Only unforgettable memories and burned face stayed. Fourteen years has come from that time but I still remember that hunting, what obstacles I have overcome to get that worthy trophies. P.S. One more plus of that hunting was that we managed to justice those poachers and my pictures played not the last role in it. Dmitry Vstovsky.

Let me introduce myself. I’m 41 years old from Reutov and have began hunting from 2012. Each year I manage to hunt about 3-4 times. I have smooth barrel gun and a rifle. I’m used to hunt in the Central part of Russia, in Volga region and on the Caucasus. Thank you.

At the end of November the director of the hunting company “Professional Russian hunters” Maxim Vorobiev and I met in the Sheremetyevo airport. We followed all doctor’s recommendations to prevent the infection of COVID -19. The hunt for a Mid Caucasian Tur in Kabardino-Balkaria was booked at the end of summer. I have already had the Dagestan and Kuban Turs in my collection. I needed to take that hybrid of the Caucasian tur to get the Great Caucasian Prize. The main requirement when I booked that hunt was the open borders and none of us would be sick. Maxim told me, when I met him in the airport, that he was among the volunteers who made a trial vaccination Sputnik-V. I was glad for him though none of us knew what kind of vaccine, he got, the volunteers were not informed if they got the real medicine or a placebo. I didn’t feel myself well. I chalked it up to the jet-lag because I had just flown from Vladivostok. It was 3 am when we arrived to the hunting base and I asked Maxim no to go to the mountains in the morning but spent one day in the camp to come back and treat myself. Maxim and our guide Daniel told me that the plan was to choose the easiest variant. Not far from our base. They also didn’t want to go to the mountains with the tents. If we didn’t find anything near the camp, we should move to another gorge and climb to the mountains with the tents. In such case I’d have to be ready to spent few days in the mobile camp. We had plenty of time. The return tickets were on November 20. Next morning, I didn't feel well yet. Moreover, I was even worse. We were lucky with weather. It was sunny all days while we were there though it was rainy in Mineral Voda. In the first hunting day Aslan put a scope and showed us a group of animals, consisted of several females and males, which grazed on the Alpine meadow under the rocks. One of them was a good size 10 years old male, Aslan said. We resolved to hunt next day if I felt well. But I was not. I realized that it was a damn shame to cancel everything when I did such a great job and even arrived there. We all still hoped that it was a cold not COVID. I took all pills, I had, and decided to go: today or never! Aslan harnessed four horses and we rode. We rode as far as we could and then began to climb by foot. Our group passed the 500 meters drop and ascended 3000 masl. We reached the meadow where had seen the animals before. We detected the group of males. But there was not a big one. The group was divided into two and one of the guides with the radio went to monitor the surroundings from another side. It was getting dark - the time when turs go for feeding. We hoped that the huge males would appear soon. So it happened. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to approach them. We should have to take the position on the place where we were at that moment. It was an open glade, covered by grass. We laid down and I began to aim. Maxim was making video. How he always did it it not bothering others and taking control under the situation? I didn’t know the answer. Maxim said that the grass could prevent the shot. But it was impossible to clean about 20 m before me and not to be seen by the males in 450 m from us. I decided to fire. (300Wm, bullet berger 190 grain, gunpowder vihta 560). One from the males, which slowly moved up the slope, distinguished from others. It was the biggest one. I took the decision. I waited for a while when it turned sideways aimed to its shoulder blade, made all corrections and shot. Maxim, who watched everything through the camera, shouted that I hit it In spite of it, the male hit the ground sprinting, changed the direction, stopped for a moment of the top and disappeared behind the rock. We hand nothing to do but went to the place where it was. Maxim was insisting that I hit to the male and said that he saw how its leg was lifting up when it was running over the horizon. We could hardly see it on the camera screen. Moreover, the same grass hindered to make good video too. It was tough to focus camera. The sunset was rapidly approaching. We didn’t find any sign of blood on the place where I hit the male and behind the rock too. It was totally dark when we came back to the base. There we watched video on the slow speed. I really hit it. The tur stood with the left side to us. The bullet came in lower the shoulder blade and could damage its lungs, then it broke its right leg which was at the back position at that moment. I thought that grass changed the bullet’s destination. The guides said that I wounded it. Next day we all watched the birds and mountains. It was cold and the scavengers needed much time to find the prey. I didn’t feel well. Next day I lost taste and smell and decided to go home while it was not too late. I worried about Maxim who lived in the same room with me. Last hunting days we moved to the small hotel in the Chegem gorge. And had separate rooms there. But I still worried. So, I took a very hard decision to go home not waiting when the guides would find the trophy. We put on masks and taking the distance from all people I flew back home to Vladivostok. I got the positive result and had to stay at home for two weeks. In a week Maxim called me to say that Alsan found the trophy and brought it down. They delivered it to Moscow in a week. It left a very mixed feeling. I've got the trophy but not satisfied because haven't touched it and haven't done pictures. There was not CMH flag on the background. That's why I decided to come there back next year. P.S. In two weeks Maxim told me that the vaccine had worked well. He got tested and it showed that he received a charge of the virus, but did not get sick. The protective antibodies worked to protect him. I'm really glad for him. Thank you very much for professional hunting and interesting stories. I want to meet you once again in a new place.

This hunting in Sudan was organized by HUNTGEO company (Eric Muller). The local outfitter was the family of natives who didn't have the experience how to organize trophy hunts. Some people could say that there were other alternatives and I could choose the other variants? As I know the other touristic companies, registered in Sudan, has nothing to do with hunting. When Sergey Yastrzhembsky and I arrived back from Sudan, I could assure you that there is just one company which organizes hunting trips. The last legal hunting, organized for a foreign hunter, took place about 10 years ago. It was Oleg Popov, who hunted in Sudan in 2011. The trip was organized by Angel Dacey. Over the years that have passed since that time, the poachers (mostly gold diggers) undermined the population of hunting animals. That's why I think that it's not professional from the Profi Hunt company side to use the ten years old data about the number of populations of hunting animals. It doesn't reflect the current situation. The information about 100% success misleads the readers. I visited all hunting places there and can declare that 100% success is out of the question. The prohibition to import their own guns by the foreign hunter don’t increase the hunting success too. I guess you realize how much does it mean for each hunter. The rented rifle, we used, wasn’t bad but not shot enough. We took our own sights and fixed them as we could. I tested the gun as long as I could and succeeded to put all shots on one list of paper A4 format. The shooting distance was 200m. We resolved to start our hunting from a Nubian ibex. The locals don’t know how to hunt from the approach. They are used to hunt in corrals and shoot whatever they see. The native beaters are so emotional that animals run like hell. So we couldn’t approach the ibex because our guides haven’t understood what we wanted from them. But I’m sure that there are ibexes in the mountains and the chance to get them there is high enough if they change the tactic and allowed the hunters to use their own weapon. After hunting for ibexes, we moved to the habitat of Barbary sheep. The outfitter told us that it’d be much difficult to take a sheep trophy because its population was small. We drove around all nearest mountains where Konstantin Popov and Rene Schneider had got their trophies and detected the old sheep trail. All other attempts to find the new trails or to see an Aoudad sheep were not successful. But we discovered the group of poachers who were digging just behind the next gorge. That meeting confirmed our thoughts about sheep absence those mountains. Not many hunting days left and we moved to another hunting ground to hunt for gazelle. The guides set the camp. I could write the article about that camp and our accommodation there. In the last day we saw three males but all of them we far from us and I didn’t risk to shoot using the rented gun because wasn’t sure in it. Despite this, I managed to get a small trophy. The representative of the foreign company which organized that hunting trip was honest and told us that didn’t know the real hunting situation. That trip was like a test. We were ready and didn’t have any illusions. I decided to repeat this hunt once again when could take my own rifle there. The local businessman told us that the permission to visit the country for hunting purpose with personal weapons would be get the next months. You can read about this trip in more details in Sergey Yastrzhembsky article which will be published soon. I would like to thank Eric Muller and Sergey Yastrzhembsky for the opportunity to participate in this hunt. Thank you very much to Evgeny Kharitonov ( Stalker group) for his help and support duting this trip.