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In the small cone of the coniferous forest thrushes cracked, flying from one tree to another; somewhere far away was the sound of an ax and the creak of oars floating on Vychegda boat.
Here comes a flock of small Easter cakes, whistling through the air; after them, like an arrow, a hawk rushes, so he hit the flock itself, but after breaking through, it soared into the air, stopped in it and waved its wings uniformly, holding at one point. And the pies flew farther and farther and finally disappeared from sight.
A shot rang out somewhere; the echo muffled him. The geese spoke, he was echoed by the croaking of a whole herd of ravens and the hoarse voice of a flared cracked duck.
A black moving wedge appeared above the forest. Geese fly low, smoothly. But suddenly the forward goose took to the right, and the whole flock went to the side.
Abram, on a thick pine stump, was cleaning a bream; Alexander Ivanovich chopped wood and threw them into the fire, which made the flame drown out for several seconds, then flared brightly and rose up with his tongue.
The ear talk quickly ripened, and we silently set about emptying the pot, the ear seemed surprisingly tasty to everyone.
And above us and the circle was a deaf, dark, quiet night. Not a sound, not a movement, not the slightest rustle, either on earth, or in water, or in a forest, or in the air.
I spent many nights in different latitudes of Russia under the open sky, but I don’t remember such terrible mortality, such a complete lack of life as it was this time. In the wildest places, at dead midnight, when all nature is plunged into a dream, at least some obscure, indefinite sound coming from somewhere - the buzzing of a nocturnal bug, the dull hum in the forest from the cry of the distant night owl.
It was time for the night. The firewood on our fire was already burned out, and barely smoldering firebrands densely turned into a shroud of whitish ash. The month was leaning toward sunset: one horned half hid behind the forest, the other was exposed because of dark spruces with a sharp wedge, like the opener of the Zyryan roe deer. From afar came the monotonous cracking of a goat and the mournful wabble of a hare - the first sounds that broke the silence of a deaf, autumn night.
- Look, him, slanting, as he takes away, what tones he displays! - said Abram, listening to the rabbit waben. - From midnight it turned off, let's go to the side.
“Why do you know what has turned off since midnight?” - asked Alexander Ivanovich.
- And you see, the hare puzzles: it’s he who beats the morning dawn.
“Like a hare?” Unlike something. Are you wrong, Abram? Maybe some bird? - objected again Alexander Ivanovich.
“I tell you, hare.” I know that for sure, because I myself saw how he makes it. But as I saw something: it happened to me to be traction in the currency in Danilovsky County - in birch stripes. I was just late, you know. Already about three things were killed, it was time to go home, and another currency was flying, so I decided to wait for half an hour; I’m standing by such a thick fir tree and listening to the nightingale singing. Suddenly around me: “wow-wah-wah, wah-wah-wah” - and fell silent. I looked around - nobody is there. Then, after a while, she again drowned a little; I look around again - again no one. And so it was dark, the dawn went out, and the stars in the sky rarely glowed. After a moment, something in the bush started up, the hare jumped out, so old he crouched beside me, and "wow wah wah wah." Uh, I think a thing; so it’s you launching such tones!
Before, you know, I often heard this voice in dawns and, as your business now, wondered whose it would be? But it turned out whose - rabbit. Well, I’m standing, I’m not moving, I’m waiting for what will happen next. For a long oblique wobble and after each time in intervals it will be on its hind legs and listens. Suddenly, another hare, the female, must have jumped out of the strip to this and let's build the goats with him. They ran, ran and lay down against each other, like puppies when they played out. At this very time, the fox is out of nowhere, and sneaks like a cat under the sparrows, and near the eyes itself sparkle like two fiery sparks. casino 5 euro deposit
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