Boat on a quiet river. Publishing house of hunting literature Era

IN in a certain kingdom, in a certain state, there lived a king and a queen; they had no children. They began to pray to God to create a child for them in their youth to look at, and in old age for feeding; They prayed, went to bed and fell into a deep sleep.

In a dream, they dreamed that not far from the palace there was a quiet pond, in that pond a golden-finned ruffe swims, if the queen eats it, she can now become pregnant. The king and queen woke up, called their mothers and nannies, and began to tell them their dream. Mothers and nannies reasoned this way: what was seen in a dream could happen in reality.

The king called the fishermen and strictly ordered them to catch the golden-finned ruff.

At dawn, fishermen came to a quiet pond, cast their nets, and, luckily for them, they caught a golden-finned ruff at the first sinking. They took him out and brought him to the palace; As the queen saw, she could not sit still, she soon ran up to the fishermen, grabbed them by the hands, and rewarded them with a large treasury; Then she called her favorite cook and gave her the golden-finned ruff from hand to hand.

Here, prepare it for dinner, but make sure no one touches it.

The cook cleaned the ruff, washed and boiled it, and put the slops out in the yard; A cow walked around the yard and drank that slop; The queen ate the fish, and the cook licked the dishes.

And so they gave birth at once: the queen, her beloved cook, and the cow, and they all gave birth to three sons at the same time: the queen gave birth to Ivan Tsarevich, the cook gave birth to Ivan, the cook’s son, and the cow gave birth to Ivan Bykovich.

The children began to grow by leaps and bounds; Just as good dough rises on a sponge, so do they rise. All three young men were equally successful, and it was impossible to recognize which of them was the royal child, which was the cook, and which was born from a cow. That was the only way they could be distinguished: when they returned from the festivities, Ivan Tsarevich asked to change his linen, the cook’s son tried to eat something, and Ivan Bykovich went straight to rest.

In the tenth year they came to the king and said:

Our dear father! Make us an iron stick of fifty pounds.

The king ordered his blacksmiths to forge an iron stick of fifty pounds; They got to work and completed it within a week. No one can lift a stick by one edge, but Ivan Tsarevich, and Ivan, the cook’s son, and Ivan Bykovich turn it between their fingers like a goose feather.

They went out into the wide royal courtyard.

Well, brothers,” says Ivan Tsarevich, “let’s try the strength; who should be a big brother?

Okay,” answered Ivan Bykovich, “take a stick and hit us on the shoulders.”

Ivan Tsarevich took an iron stick, hit Ivan, the cook’s son, and Ivan Bykovich on the shoulders and drove both of them knee-deep into the ground. Ivan, the cook's son, hit - drove Ivan Tsarevich and Ivan Bykovich up to his chest into the ground; and Ivan Bykovich hit - he hit both brothers to the very neck.

Let’s,” says the prince, “let’s try our strength again: let’s throw an iron stick upward; whoever throws higher will be the bigger brother.

Well, give it up!

Ivan Tsarevich threw it - the stick fell a quarter of an hour ago, and Ivan Bykovich threw it - only an hour later it returned.

Well, Ivan Bykovich, may you be a big brother.

After that they went for a walk in the garden and found a huge stone.

Look what a stone! Is it possible to move him? - said Ivan Tsarevich, rested his hands on him, fiddled, fiddled - no, the strength does not take him.

Ivan, the cook's son, tried it, and the stone moved a little. Ivan Bykovich tells them:

You swim shallow! Wait, I'll try.

He approached the stone and as soon as he moved it with his foot, the stone hummed loudly, rolled to the other side of the garden and broke many different trees. Under that stone, a basement opened up, in the basement there are three heroic horses, military harnesses hang on the walls: there is something for good fellows to roam around on!

They immediately ran to the king and began to ask:

Sovereign Father! Bless us to go to foreign lands, to see people for ourselves, to show ourselves in people.

The king blessed them and rewarded them with money for the journey; They said goodbye to the king, mounted their heroic horses and set off on their journey. We drove through the valleys, through the mountains, through green meadows and came to a dense forest; in that forest there is a hut on chicken legs, on ram horns, when necessary it turns.

Hut, hut, turn your front to us, your back to the forest; We have to climb into you, eat bread and salt.

The hut turned around. Good fellows enter the hut - Baba Yaga’s bone leg lies on the stove, from corner to corner, nose to the ceiling.

Fu-fu-fu! Previously, the Russian spirit had never been heard of, never seen in sight; Nowadays the Russian spirit sits on a spoon and rolls into its mouth.

Hey, old woman, don’t scold, get off the stove and sit on the bench. Ask: where are we going? I'll say it kindly.

Baba Yaga got down from the stove, came close to Ivan Bykovich, bowed low to him:

Hello, Father Ivan Bykovich! Where are you going, where are you going?

We, grandmother, are going to the Smorodina River, to the Viburnum Bridge; I heard that more than one miracle Yudo lives there.

Hey Vanyusha! I got down to business; After all, they, the villains, overwhelmed everyone, ruined everyone, and rolled the neighboring kingdoms like a ball.

The brothers spent the night with Baba Yaga, got up early in the morning and set off on their journey. They come to the Smorodina River; There are human bones lying all over the shore, knee-deep! They saw a hut, entered it - it was empty, and decided to stop here.

It was late afternoon. Ivan Bykovich says:

Brothers! We have arrived in a foreign direction; we must live with caution; Let's take turns going on patrol.

They cast lots - Ivan Tsarevich got to guard the first night, Ivan the cook's son the second, and Ivan Bykovich the third. Ivan Tsarevich went on patrol, climbed into the bushes and fell fast asleep. Ivan Bykovich did not rely on him; As time went past midnight, he was immediately ready, took his shield and sword with him, went out and stood under the viburnum bridge.

Suddenly the waters on the river became agitated, the eagles screamed in the oak trees - the six-headed miracle Yudo was riding out; under him the horse stumbled, the black raven on his shoulder started, and behind him the hort bristled. The six-headed miracle Yudo says:

Why are you, dog meat, stumbling, you, crow feather, trembling, and you, dog fur, bristling? Al, do you think that Ivan Bykovich is here? So he, a good fellow, was not born yet, and if he was born, he was not fit for war; I’ll put him on one hand and slam him with the other - it’ll just make him wet!

Ivan Bykovich jumped out:

Don't boast, evil spirit! Without catching a clear falcon, it is too early to pluck its feathers; without tasting the goodness of the fellow, there is no point in blaspheming him. But let’s better try our strength: whoever overcomes will boast.

When they came together, they came abreast and hit each other so cruelly that the earth around them groaned. Miracle Yud was not lucky: Ivan Bykovich knocked off three of his heads with one swing.

Stop, Ivan Bykovich! Give me a break.

What a break! You, evil spirit, have three heads, I have only one; Once you have one head, then we will rest.

They came together again, they hit each other again; Ivan Bykovich cut off the miracle juda and the last heads, took the body, cut it into small pieces and threw it into the Smorodina River, and put six heads under the viburnum bridge. He returned to the hut himself. In the morning Ivan Tsarevich comes.

Well, have you seen anything?

No, brothers, not even a fly flew past me.

The next night, Ivan, the cook’s son, went on patrol, climbed into the bushes and fell asleep. Ivan Bykovich did not rely on him; As time went past midnight, he immediately equipped himself, took his shield and sword with him, went out and stood under the viburnum bridge.

Suddenly the waters on the river became agitated, the eagles screamed in the oak trees - the nine-headed miracle Yudo was leaving; under him the horse stumbled, the black raven on his shoulder started, and behind him the hort bristled. The miracle of a horse on the hips, a crow on the feathers, a hort on the ears:

Why are you, dog meat, stumbling, you, crow feather, trembling, and you, dog fur, bristling? Al, do you think that Ivan Bykovich is here? So he was not born yet, and if he was born, he was not fit for war; I'll kill him with one finger!

Ivan Bykovich jumped out:

Wait - don’t boast, first pray to God, wash your hands and get to work! It is still unknown who will take it!

As the hero swings his sharp sword once or twice, he takes off six heads from the evil spirits; and the miracle Yudo hit him - he drove the earth up to his knees into the cheese.

Ivan Bykovich grabbed a handful of earth and threw it right into his opponent’s eyes. While the miracle Yudo was rubbing his eyes, the hero cut off his other heads, took his body, cut it into small pieces and threw it into the Smorodina River, and put nine heads under the viburnum bridge.

The next morning Ivan, the cook’s son, comes.

What, brother, didn’t you see anything during the night?

No, not a single fly flew near me, not a single mosquito squeaked!

Ivan Bykovich led the brothers under the Viburnum bridge, showed them the dead heads and began to shame them:

Eh, sleepyheads, where should you fight? You should be lying on the stove at home!

On the third night, Ivan Bykovich prepares to go on patrol; He took a white towel, hung it on the wall, and placed a bowl under it on the floor and said to the brothers:

I am going to a terrible battle; and you, brothers, don’t sleep all night and watch closely how the blood will flow from the towel: if half the bowl runs over - okay, if the bowl runs full - it’s all right, and if it starts to pour over the edge - immediately release my heroic horse from the chains yourself hurry to help me.

Here stands Ivan Bykovich under the Kalinov Bridge; It was past midnight, the waters on the river were agitated, the eagles were screaming in the oak trees - the twelve-headed miracle Yudo was leaving; His horse has twelve wings, his horse's fur is silver, his tail and mane are golden. The miracle Yudo is coming; suddenly the horse stumbled under him; The black raven on his shoulder perked up, and the hort bristled behind him. The miracle of a horse on the hips, a crow on the feathers, a hort on the ears.

Ivan Bykovich jumped out:

Wait - don’t boast, first pray to God!

Oh, you're here! Why did you come?

To look at you, evil spirit, to test your strength.

Where are you going to try my fortress? You are a fly in front of me!

Ivan Bykovich answers:

I didn’t come with you to tell fairy tales, but to fight to the death.

He swung his sharp sword and cut off three heads of the miracle Yuda. Miracle Yudo picked up these heads, drew his fiery finger over them - and immediately all the heads grew back, as if they had never fallen from their shoulders! Ivan Bykovich had a bad time; Miracle Yudo began to overcome him and drove him knee-deep into the earth.

Stop, evil spirit! Tsars-kings fight, and they make peace; Are you and I really going to fight without rest? Give me rest at least three times.

Miracle Yudo agreed; Ivan Bykovich took off his right mitten and let him into the hut. Mitten broke all the windows, and his brothers are sleeping and don’t hear anything. Another time, Ivan Bykovich swung stronger than before and cut off six heads of the miracle juda; Miracle Yudo picked them up, drew them with a fiery finger - and again all the heads were in place, and he slammed Ivan Bykovich waist-deep into the damp earth.

The hero asked for rest, took off his left mitten and let him into the hut. The mitten broke through the roof, but the brothers were still sleeping and didn’t hear anything. The third time he swung even stronger and cut off nine heads of the miracle-yuda; Miracle Yudo picked them up, drew them with a fiery finger - the heads grew back, and he drove Ivan Bykovich into the mud up to his shoulders.

Ivan Bykovich asked for a break, took off his hat and let him into the hut; Because of that blow, the hut fell apart and rolled all over the logs.

Just then the brothers woke up and looked - blood was pouring from the bowl over the edge, and the heroic horse was neighing loudly and breaking from its chains. They rushed to the stable, lowered the horse, and after him they themselves rushed to help.

A! - says the miracle-yudo, - you live by deception; you have help.

The heroic horse came running and began to beat him with its hooves; Meanwhile, Ivan Bykovich crawled out of the ground, got used to it and cut off the fiery finger of the miracle-juda. After that, let’s chop off his heads: knocked off every single one of them, tore his body into small pieces and threw everything into the Smorodina River.

The brothers come running.

Oh you, sleepyheads! - says Ivan Bykovich. - Because of your dream, I almost lost my life.

Early in the morning, Ivan Bykovich went out into an open field, hit the ground and became a sparrow, flew to the white stone chambers and sat down by the open window.

The old witch saw him, sprinkled some grains and began to say:

Little sparrow! You came to eat grains and listen to my grief. Ivan Bykovich laughed at me and killed all my sons-in-law.

Don't worry, mother! We will repay him for everything,” say the miracle wives of Yudov.

“Here I am,” says the smaller one, “I will cause hunger, I myself will go out onto the road and become an apple tree with gold and silver apples: whoever picks an apple will burst.”

And I,” says the middle one, “will make you thirsty, and I myself will become a well; two bowls will float on the water: one gold, the other silver; whoever takes the cup, I will drown him.

And I,” says the eldest, “will let you go to sleep, and I myself will throw myself over the golden bed; whoever lies on the bed will burn with fire.

Ivan Bykovich listened to these speeches, flew back, hit the ground and became still a good fellow. The three brothers got ready and went home.

They travel along the road, they are very hungry, but there is nothing to eat. Lo and behold, there is an apple tree with golden and silver apples; Ivan Tsarevich and Ivan, the cook’s son, started to pick apples, but Ivan Bykovich galloped ahead and let’s chop the apple tree crosswise - only blood sprays!

He did the same with the well and with the golden bed. Miracle Yud's wives died.

When the old witch found out about this, she dressed up as a beggar, ran out onto the road and stood with a knapsack. Ivan Bykovich is traveling with his brothers; she extended her hand and began to beg.

Tsarevich Ivan Bykovich says:

Brother! Doesn't our father have enough gold treasury? Give this beggar woman some holy alms.

Ivan Bykovich took out a chervonets and gave it to the old woman; she does not take the money, but takes his hand and instantly disappears with him. The brothers looked around - there was neither the old woman nor Ivan Bykovich, and out of fear they galloped home, tails between their legs.

And the witch dragged Ivan Bykovich into the dungeon and brought him to her husband - an old man.

On you, he says, our destroyer!

The old man lies on an iron bed, sees nothing: long eyelashes and thick eyebrows completely cover his eyes. He called twelve mighty heroes and began to order them:

Take an iron pitchfork, raise my eyebrows and black eyelashes, I’ll see what kind of bird he is that killed my sons?

The heroes raised his eyebrows and eyelashes with pitchforks; the old man looked:

Wow, well done Vanyusha! You are the one who took the courage to deal with my children! What should I do with you?

It’s your will, do whatever you want, I’m ready for anything.

Well, why talk a lot about it, because you can’t raise children; Do me a better service: go to an unprecedented kingdom, to an unprecedented state and get me a queen - golden curls, I want to marry her.

Ivan Bykovich thought to himself: “Where should you, old devil, get married, except for me, a fine fellow!”

And the old woman became enraged, tied a stone around her neck, tumbled into the water and drowned herself.

Here’s a club for you, Vanyusha,” says the old man, “go to such and such an oak tree, hit it three times with the club and say: “Come out, ship!” Get out, ship! Get out, ship! As soon as the ship comes to you, at that very time give the order to the oak tree three times so that it shuts up; look, don't forget! If you don’t do this, you will cause me great offense.

Ivan Bykovich came to the oak tree, hit it with his baton countless times and ordered:

Whatever you have, come out!

The first ship left; Ivan Bykovich got into it and shouted:

Everyone is behind me! - and went on the road.

Having driven away a little, I looked back and saw: the countless strength of ships and boats! Everyone praises him, everyone thanks him.

An old man in a boat approaches him:

Father Ivan Bykovich, many years of good health to you! Take me as your comrade.

What can you do?

I know how to eat bread, father.

Ivan Bykovich said:

Phew, abyss! I’m quite capable of this myself; however, board the ship, I am glad to have good comrades.

Another old man approaches the boat:

Hello, Ivan Bykovich! Take me with you.

What can you do?

I know how to drink wine and beer, father.

Simple science! Well, get on the ship.

The third old man drives up:

Hello, Ivan Bykovich! Take me too.

Speak: what can you do?

I, father, know how to take a steam bath.

Ugh, you're crazy! Hey, just think, wise men!

I took this one on board too; and then a boat arrived; says the fourth old man:

Long live, Ivan Bykovich! Take me as your comrade.

Who are you?

I, father, am an astrologer.

Well, I’m not much for that; be my comrade.

I accepted the fourth, the old man is asking for a fifth.

Ashes take you! Where should I go with you? Tell me quickly: what can you do?

I, father, can swim with a ruff.

Well, you are welcome!

So they went for the queen - golden curls. They come to an unprecedented kingdom, an unprecedented state; and there they had known for a long time that Ivan Bykovich would be there, and for three whole months they baked bread, smoked wine, and brewed beer. Ivan Bykovich saw an uncountable number of carts of bread and the same number of barrels of wine and beer; is surprised and asks:

What does this mean?

This is all prepared for you.

Phew, abyss! Yes, I can’t eat or drink that much in a whole year.

Then Ivan Bykovich remembered about his comrades and began to call:

Hey you old fellows! Which of you understands how to drink and eat?

Obedailo and Opivailo respond:

We, father! Our business is childish.

Well, get to work!

One old man ran up and began to eat bread: he threw into his mouth not just loaves, but whole cartloads. Everything came and started shouting:

Little bread; let's do more!

Another old man ran up, started drinking beer and wine, drank it all and swallowed the barrels.

Not enough, he shouts. - Give me more!

The servants began to fuss; rushed to the queen with a report that there was not enough bread or wine.

And the queen - golden curls - ordered Ivan Bykovich to be taken to the bathhouse to take a steam bath. That bathhouse was heated for three months and was so hot that it was impossible to approach it five miles away. They began to invite Ivan Bykovich to the bathhouse to take a steam bath; he saw that the bathhouse was blazing with fire, and said:

What, are you crazy? I'll burn there!

Then he remembered again:

After all, I have comrades with me! Hey you old fellows! How many of you know how to take a steam bath?

An old man ran up:

Me, father! My business is childish.

He quickly jumped into the bathhouse, blew into a corner, spat into another - the whole bathhouse had cooled down, and there was snow in the corners.

Oh, fathers, it’s frozen, drown for three more years! - the old man shouts at the top of his lungs.

The servants rushed in with a report that the bathhouse was completely frozen, and Ivan Bykovich began to demand that the queen be given his golden curls. The queen herself came out to him, offered her white hand, boarded the ship and set off.

So they sail a day and another; suddenly she felt sad and heavy - she hit herself in the chest, turned into a star and flew away into the sky.

Well,” says Ivan Bykovich, “it’s completely gone!” - Then I remembered: - Oh, I have comrades. Hey, good old guys! Which one of you is a stargazer?

Me, father! “My business is childish,” answered the old man, he hit the ground, became a star himself, flew to the sky and began to count the stars; I found an extra one and well, push it! The star fell from its place, quickly rolled across the sky, fell onto the ship and turned into a queen - golden curls.

They travel again one day, then travel another; The queen felt sadness and melancholy, hit herself in the chest, turned into a pike and swam into the sea. “Well, now it’s gone!” - Ivan Bykovich thinks, but he remembered about the last old man and began to ask him:

Are you really good at swimming with a ruff?

I, father, my business is childish! - He hit the ground, turned into a ruff, swam into the sea for a pike and started stabbing it in the sides. The pike jumped onto the ship and again became a queen - golden curls.

Here the old men said goodbye to Ivan Bykovich and went home; and he went to the miracle Yudov’s father.

Came to him with the queen - golden curls; he called twelve mighty heroes, ordered them to bring iron pitchforks and raise his black eyebrows and eyelashes. He looked at the queen and said:

Hey Vanyusha! Well done! Now I will forgive you, I will release you into the world.

No, wait,” Ivan Bykovich answers, “I said it without thinking!”

Yes, I have prepared a deep pit, there is a perch across the pit; whoever walks along the perch will take the queen for himself!

Okay, Vanyusha! You go ahead.

Ivan Bykovich walked along the perch, and the queen with golden curls said to herself:

Pass easier than swan fluff!

Ivan Bykovich passed - and the perch did not bend; and the old man went - as soon as he stepped into the middle, he flew into the hole. Ivan Bykovich took the queen's golden curls and returned home; Soon they got married and gave a feast to the whole world. Ivan Bykovich sits at the table and boasts to his brothers:

Even though I fought for a long time, I got a young wife! And you, brothers, sit down on the stove and lay bricks!

I was at that feast, I drank honey and wine, it flowed down my mustache, but it didn’t get into my mouth; here they treated me: they took the basin away from the bull and poured milk; then they gave me a roll of bread and I urinated in the same basin. I didn’t drink, I didn’t eat, I decided to wipe myself off, they started fighting with me; I put on my cap and they started pushing me in the neck!

Alyoshka crumbled the remaining bread in his hands and began throwing handfuls over his shoulder. The chickens vying with each other rushed for bread. The rooster could not bear it and also took off, but came to his senses in time and stopped halfway. Now there were two steps to him, no more. Alyoshka’s heart trembled joyfully. Quietly, so as not to scare the rooster, he handed him the crumbs in his palm, saying affectionately:

-Petya, Petya... Chick, chick...

Petya tilted his head to the side in disbelief.

And then Alyoshka jumped. The rooster screamed in fear and flapped his wings, but tenacious boyish fingers held him tightly by the tail. The frightened chickens scattered around the yard, clucking desperately.

-He's got his hands on the rooster again!

Alyoshka didn’t have time to figure out what was wrong when he received a heavy slap on the head.

And you feel sorry, right? - he still snapped and finally grabbed a bunch of feathers from the rooster’s neck.

Let go now, whoever they say!

The rooster escaped from Alyoshka’s hands and, disheveled, rushed madly to the hayloft.

- Look, the whole tail has been torn out!

Goshka, of course, lied - half of the rooster’s tail was intact, only slightly wrinkled, but Alyoshka did not object, jumped up and also gave a go. At the garden gate he turned around and blurted out the first thing that came to mind:

You yourself are a herring... salty!

Behind the garden, having jumped over the fence and making sure that Goshka was not chasing him, he wiped his sweaty, flushed face with the sleeve of his checkered shirt and sighed with relief. Immediately on the grass he sorted out the obtained trophies. He mercilessly threw away the fiery feathers from the rooster's tail - they wouldn't make good flies, but he carefully folded the feathers from the neck and wrapped them in a piece of newspaper. I thought with pleasure that now he would have enough flies until the end of the summer, even if he gave half of it to Goshka. No, he won’t give half of it, but two or three pieces, no more. In exchange for the forged hooks that visiting fishermen gave my brother last week. True, they also gave Alyoshka hooks, but Goshka rarely goes fishing. He doesn’t even know how to make flies himself, he asks him, Alyoshka. Goshka reads more and more books, he says he will be a scientist. And Alyoshka will be the most famous hunter, he will, like his father, hunt for bears, elk, sables, and catch fish in Agul.

Alyoshka looked at the sun and realized: it was probably already lunchtime, but he was still chilling. This morning, father, mother and older sister Lyubka sailed to the industrial farm to hand over berries. It is simply unthinkable not to take advantage of this. And so, lately it’s rare to go fishing, because the whole family swims to the islands for currants. Alyoshka does not like this unmanly activity and tries with all his might to prove that he is a completely incapable person to pick berries. For example, he cannot resist putting the ripest currants in his mouth, and therefore his basket is always full of garbage, and the berries are nothing but greens. Father once laughed that Alyoshka could eat a bucket of currants in one go. The bucket is not a bucket, but half a bucket, if you put some effort, you can probably handle it. In general, Alyoshka never complained about his appetite, it’s not for nothing that he is so thick-cheeked and stocky, not like Goshka is skinny, with only black eyes and hair like a gypsy’s.

Goshka, apparently, had long forgotten about the rooster. He was reading a book under the canopy and did not pay any attention to Alyoshka.

Putting on old sneakers and stuffing a slice of bread into his bosom (he grabbed a cucumber from the garden along the way) was a matter of minutes. I checked again to see if I forgot anything. Hooks in the cap. Fishing line, knife - in your pocket. The slingshot... He never parted with it - so far it is his most powerful and formidable weapon. He will cut the rod on the spot, because he recently broke his old one while fishing for lenok. I thought: it would be nice to take Sharik or Damka with me, but the dogs tagged along with my grandmother and younger twin sisters, who had gone into the forest to pick mushrooms, and now whistle or don’t whistle - you won’t get enough of them. We'll have to go without the dog.

Goshka took his eyes off the book and looked suspiciously at his brother.

Are you going fishing again?

“Yeah,” Alyoshka muttered in response, “If you want, we’ll go together.”

Stomp, once you're ready.

Big deal. Well, hang out over your books. And on Sakharnaya Kharyuzya - what kind of clothes! Black.

Stomp, stomp...

Alyosha is in a great mood. He just wants to run along the taiga trail, but he restrains himself - a hunter should not allow himself to be stupid. And Alyoshka is a hunter. He may not have a gun, but he always has a slingshot at the ready. In the right hands it means something. Alyoshka has skillful hands and a keen eye. At twenty paces he can hit a sparrow. And recently I shot a hazel grouse. True, the hazel grouse was young, current, and let him get very close, but that doesn’t matter. It is important that it was a hazel grouse - game. The father then praised him and said that Alyoshka would probably turn out to be a real hunter over time. One Goshka narrowed his gypsy eyes incredulously:

You probably found a dead one in the taiga and are bragging.

Alyosha was blown up:

Don't believe me? Stand thirty steps and I'll hit you in the eye. Goshka, of course, did not get up, and Alyoshka celebrated the victory.

The chipmunk squeaked in alarm. He jumped from a mossy stump onto a pine tree. Quickly, he ran up the gnarled trunk and, leaning out from behind a shaggy branch, stared curiously at Alyosha with his tiny dot eyes. No, Alyoshka did not pull the rubber band, did not take the life of the funny little animal, he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

The red panicle of a chipmunk's tail flashed, and try to find it in the thick thorns of the neighboring tree! The hunter smiled, pleased. He stood there for a while, waited to see if the frightened animal would appear again, and without waiting, he walked on. One day, a geologist friend, Uncle Grisha, told his father:

“You live in your Solomatka on the edge of the earth, forgotten by God. That's why everyone left here.

Alyoshka does not agree with him. Well, what kind of end of the earth is this if there is taiga all around! You walk and walk, but there is no end to it.

And he’s also in vain about God, because there is no God in the world and there never was. And who believes in God? In their family, one grandmother crosses her toothless mouth once a week and sighs. Once Alyoshka asked her why she was baptized. Grandma lightly slapped him with a dry palm on a soft spot and told him not to stick his nose where it shouldn’t. She didn’t answer anything.

But it’s true about the fact that they separated. They say that once there were two hundred households in Solomatka, no less. More and more settlers lived. Alyoshka doesn’t know who they are. Just before the war, they received some kind of permission, they collected their belongings, sold their houses for demolition, and some simply boarded up the windows with boards crosswise and left in all directions. And now there are only six houses in Solomatka, half of them are empty. Of the old-timers, there are two families left: they, the Egorovs, and grandfather Zhlobin and grandmother. This spring, another family arrived - workers collecting sap - and settled in an empty house on the very edge of the village.

Alyoshka has no friends in Solomatka. Where do they come from? Grandfather Zhlobin is childless, and the visitors have two young girls, one of whom still walks under the table.

If you think about it carefully, it turns out like Uncle Grishin, it’s like they live on the edge of the earth. Indeed, further up the Agul there are no villages - only hunting huts.

And yet Alyoshka does not agree to leave his native village for any price. Where else can you find such a fish-filled river as the Agul, and a taiga where there is so much game and different animals? And if there aren’t enough people, there won’t be long to wait: there will be people. They say they are going to build some kind of plant here, or a chemical forestry plant. Something will definitely be built, it can’t be that they won’t, because now they are building everywhere, even in the far, far North, where there is no forest at all - just swamps and dwarf birch trees...

Alyoshka stopped: it seemed as if a hazel grouse was whistling thinly. So it is, but far away, in the bird cherry forest behind the channel. Let him whistle for himself, the pockmarked one...

The forest began to gradually thin out and part. Now there will be a large clearing. Along its edges and further into the forest, here and there lonely old pines rise. Wood grouse often sit on them. Alyoshka saw them several times, tried to sneak closer to them, but - where there! - the capercaillie is a keen-sighted, cautious bird, it immediately begins to restlessly stretch its neck, then flies heavily from the tree and - remember what it was called.

This time there were no wood grouse. Only high in the blue sky was a kite circling over the clearing. Suddenly, right from under my feet, a young hare suddenly jumped out. Alyoshka shot at him with a slingshot. He missed and laughed - it was so funny, throwing up his hind legs and escaping with his scythe.

Beyond the clearing there was a shady, cool forest again. The trees were close to the path. Once upon a time this was not a path, but a real road, and it led to the village of Saharny, from which all that remained was one half-rotten barracks and a black bathhouse covered with rotten rags.

It was already close to Saharny. In order not to be distracted by the flying sizars every now and then, Alyoshka hid the slingshot in his pocket. I walked faster. He crossed the hummock forest and, before leaving the birch forest, could not resist, turning off the path to the right towards a large stump that had turned into rotten wood. There was an anthill there. He cut off a birch rod with a folder, cleaned it and put it in a pile of ants, pliable as sawdust. The ants ran around, began to scurry around, stuck to the rod, and crawled along Alyoshka’s hand. He threw them off, and they crawled and bit. Finally, he pulled out the rod, blew off the remaining ants from it and began sucking it with pleasure as he walked: the hunter loved to enjoy the sour-tart ant juice!..

The birch forest is over.

Alyoshka went ashore and involuntarily closed his eyes - Agul sparkled so dazzlingly in the sun...

In the depths of the clearing, among the wildly growing wild hemp, a barracks could be seen. Alyosha didn’t like this sad building with a collapsed roof. Without special need, he rarely looked there. It wasn’t that he was afraid, but simply the sight of the mossy logs and the pungent smell of mold, the densely woven cobwebs in the dark corners and the mouse fuss under the rotten floorboards made his soul sick. It was rumored that at night in the barracks an eagle owl moaned terribly, like a human being. Who knows, maybe it’s not true, but Alyoshka would never have stayed overnight in the barracks.

Now he only glanced briefly at the gloomy barracks. A blue stream of smoke over the forest caught his attention. At another time, he would not have paid any attention to the smoke - a fire on the banks of Agul is a common occurrence. You never know how many hunters come here to catch Agul black-backed graylings. But the smoke was just above the place where Alyoshka was going to fish. Who could it be? Visitors or our own, Agul people?

Alyoshka crossed a shallow channel, went around the toe of the island, overgrown with willow grass, and followed the path along the shore towards the fire. The most incredible guesses arose in his head. What if they are robbers or bandits? Yes, yes, the real ones! They sit by the fire and wait for night to attack Solomatka, or they lie in wait for fishermen from the upper reaches of Agul to kill them and take away barrels of fish. Such thoughts made me feel a little uneasy, but it was too late to retreat. Alyoshka had no intention of retreating. He just turned off the path and walked more quietly, listening sensitively to the forest, shuddering at the light rustle of branches and the crunch of twigs under his feet. His heart alternated between freezing and, on the contrary, pounding desperately in his chest.

He crept up so close to them and saw them so suddenly that he involuntarily fell to the ground and backed away behind the sticky, resin-stained, rough trunk of the spruce tree.

There were two of them, and they did not look like robbers or bandits. Both are wearing identical ski suits of an indeterminate color, either blue or dark gray, in high rubber boots with rolled-up tops. They didn’t have the crooked, sharpened daggers that Alyoshka had seen in the pictures in the book about Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves; one, who was sitting on a stump facing him, had an ordinary store-bought hunting knife hanging from his belt.

They drank steaming tea from mugs.

Reassured, Alyoshka wanted to slowly crawl back to the path so that he could approach them without hiding, as if nothing had happened, but the one who was sitting with his back to him splashed out the remains of unfinished tea from his mug and said loudly:

- Whatever you say, Sergei, tea from Agul water is powerful. There was something familiar in his hoarse voice. Somewhere Alyoshka heard this voice, saw this short, broad-shouldered guy with a thick red neck. Sergei also seemed familiar: he was as dark-haired as his partner, but thin, broad-shouldered, with large bony hands... Well, of course, they were the ones who landed on a dugout boat at Solomatka at the mouth of the Kolkha a month ago. Sergei was sitting at the wheel, and this fat guy, when the boat touched its nose to the shore, stepped over the side right into the bottom. Leaping on his left leg, he walked up to Alyosha and Goshka, who were knitting brooms in the shade under a bird cherry tree, and asked hoarsely:

- Guys, how far is it to Sakharny?

Goshka replied that it was not far, and Alyoshka asked:

Are you going to go fishing there?

Maybe we’ll go fishing if there’s a bite,” the guy answered with a grin, not immediately, looking intently at Alyoshka with his unpleasantly small, tenacious eyes.

Mikhail, come help me,” Sergei called.

That's right, this fat guy's name is Mikhail, Alyoshka remembered everything. They spent a long time digging into the engine and adjusting something. And Alyoshka also remembered well their “Moskva” engine, an old one, with green paint peeling off on the sides.

And in the evening, my father came from above and said that some two people - one fat, the other thin - were drowning fish in the Veligzhanin Reach. They threw two bottles. Visiting fishermen who were fishing nearby saw them and began shouting and swearing. The poachers got cold feet, started the engine and ran away downstairs.

That's a lot of fish to kill - the whole bottom is covered! - the father was indignant. - Well, let them just appear on Agul...

And then they appeared again. Alyoshka was sure that it was them. What to do? Run to Solomatka and tell your father about the poachers? Far away, and my father probably hasn’t returned home yet. While you wait for him, they will drown out the fish and run away. If Alyoshka had a gun, he would, without hesitation, shoot at this fat guy - for some reason he didn’t particularly like him - and definitely with salt, so that he would forever remember how to poach. But there was no gun. Alyoshka, holding his breath, lay under the tree and mentally called upon their heads the heaviest punishment.

The poachers were smoking and talking about something in low voices. About what, Alyoshka could not understand from the fragments of phrases and individual words that reached him.

That’s it,” Sergei said, standing up. - Let's go wander along the channel. Last time I saw a lot of currants there.

Alyoshka grinned maliciously: last time, of course, there were currants there, but this morning they floated off to the industrial farm. He already knows this for sure - yesterday he himself filled almost a full basket, and tore his entire shirt into the bushes.

Sergei brought a double-barreled shotgun and two buckets from the boat. He gave one bucket to Mikhail, and they slowly headed into the forest.

Alyoshka waited until they had disappeared, looking around carefully, and crawled towards the smoldering fire. A smoky pot, two mugs, half a loaf of white city bread on a crumpled newspaper, an unfinished bottle of vodka leaning against an untied backpack... They left everything as they ate, they didn’t even clean it up.

Alyoshka didn’t touch anything, although he was tempted to pour the vodka out of the bottle and get some water instead. He didn't waste time on trifles. He came up with something that would make poachers howl... While they are looking for berries, their boat will sail far away, and Alyoshka won’t be close either.

With trembling fingers, he untied the rope from the birch stump, and at the very moment when the fast current was ready to catch the boat rocking on the water, an even more daring thought came to mind. Alyoshka forcefully pushed the bow of the boat away from the shore and jumped into it himself...

Cringing with fear, he lay on the bottom of the boat and counted the rifts.

First…

And a little later - the second...

The noise of the roll quickly faded away - it was not a wide, but a deep reach below Saharny.

Third...

The boat rocked elastically on the waves. Alyoshka closed his eyes tightly: at this point Agul fiercely hits the left bank, and the next minute he’ll be thrown onto a tree that has fallen into the river or onto a cramp—then a swim will be inevitable.

But everything seemed to work out; the boat stopped rocking; The water gently squelched overboard.

Alyoshka listened and, not hearing anything suspicious, quietly stuck his head out. The terrible rollover was left behind. The boat was carried stern forward past a dense spruce forest and a bush hanging over the water. And not a soul around. Apparently, poachers found unpicked currant bushes and still don’t know anything...

For some reason I thought that when they returned to the fire and discovered the disappearance of the boat, they would definitely start quarreling and running around stupidly along the shore. That fat guy's eyes will probably become very small and angry... Let him get angry!

From the thought that everything had turned out so well and that, no matter how angry or angry, the poachers still couldn’t catch up with him, Alyoshka calmed down. The fear has passed.

The boat began to turn across the current.

He moved to the stern. He took the pole and began to push towards the opposite bank. The iron tip of the pole scraped helplessly along the rocky bottom, the heavy, swiveling dugout was difficult to obey, and he was sweating while he swam across Agul.

Now we could rest a little.

The boat floated silently with the current; the shore hanging over the water silently floated past, all covered in greenery, softened by the heat; Agul's surface shone coolly. It was so quiet and peaceful all around that Alyoshka forgot about the poachers. And suddenly it seemed to prick him: what if these were not poachers and he had stolen the boat in vain?

I immediately felt disgusted inside.

An island was quickly approaching, separated from the shore by a narrow channel.

Alyoshka worked with his pole with all his might, guiding the boat into the channel. Now he will find out everything, he will be convinced... If these are poachers, then they must have explosives or nets. It is forbidden for anyone except industrial fishermen to catch with nets on Agul. Now he finds out everything...

The boat reached the island, rustled its bottom on the pebbles and ran firmly aground.

Alyoshka did not like and did not know how to think for a long time.

A minute later, standing ankle-deep in water, he searched the boat. In the bow, in a canvas bag, I felt birch bark floats - a net. It relieved my heart a little. Near the bag, under an old oilcloth, there was a small plywood box, and in it, wrapped in rags separately from each other, were bottles with the necks pointing upward. He carefully pulled out one - it was heavy. Some kind of powder shone through the green glass. Explosives! Cold sweat appeared on his forehead. Alyoshka almost dropped the terrible bottle.

The bottle glittered peacefully and did not seem to be planning to explode.

Then, emboldened, with trembling fingers, he tried to push it away. She involuntarily easily moved away. He tilted it with caution: powder flowed from the neck in a yellow-gray stream and sank, leaving a barely noticeable dusty trail on the water.

No longer afraid of anything, he emptied all five bottles one by one, carefully putting the empty ones back into the box, covering them with oilcloth.

Untied the bag with the net. The three-wall net was new, made of nylon, exactly the same as my father had recently brought from the city. It would be nice to hide her in the bushes on the island, and then swim and pick her up, but if her father finds out, then... Alyoshka even started to itch the back of his head. With a sigh, he launched the sharp blade of the folder into the net.

Having dealt with the three-wall, Alyoshka began to think about what to do with the motor. I remembered how then, near Kolkha, while helping Sergei, Mikhail was blowing out the sump filter and accidentally dropped the saucer into the water. Sergei got angry, called him a bungler and said that without this thing it’s the same as without gasoline - you won’t get anywhere. Mikhail rolled up his sleeves and fumbled along the bottom with his hands for a long time until he found the ill-fated saucer.

Removing the casing from the engine was a trivial matter for Alyosha. And here he was holding a plastic saucer cup in his hand. I wanted to throw it into the water, but changed my mind - it would come in handy - and put it in my pocket.

Everything is fine now. Alyoshka imagined how the poachers, having found the boat, would joyfully rush towards it. Having discovered a cut-up net and empty bottles, they will begin to look around cowardly, push off from the shore, and Sergei will pull the starter with all his might, but the engine will not even think about starting. Willy-nilly, they will have to go down by self-rafting, and everyone who sees them will immediately understand that these are poachers, and will shout after them to get out of Agul. Now, if only I could write on the board with paint... But what?.. After all, the letters can be cut out! Afterwards you can’t scrape them off or cover them with anything - they will still be visible.

Without hesitation, Alyoshka armed himself with a warehouseman and got down to business. Kneeling right in the water, he worked with inspiration, like a real artist. The letters turned out to be large, covering the entire width of the side; white, impressively thick, they stood out clearly against the darkened hull of the boat. The first one was especially good. The rest didn’t turn out very well: “E,” for example, looked like a broken three-pronged comb, “N” resembled a loose, haphazardly put together ladder. But the latter came out to match the first, smooth and beautiful. Alyoshka looked at his creation critically and was pleased - the inscription, as he had expected, occupied the entire left side from bow to stern, however, no, there was still a little space left at the stern, just enough so that the point fits. And the point failed: at the most decisive moment, when it was almost ready, the knife blade snapped and gurgled briefly into the water. Out of frustration, Alyoshka bit his tongue, looked almost with tears in his eyes at the folder’s unlike-short hand, now useless, and angrily threw it into the bushes.

Alyoshka did not grieve for long about the knife. Something had to be done. Poachers, most likely, have already discovered the disappearance of the boat and are now prowling the left bank with might and main. True, they won’t be able to get here - Agul was in the way, and the talnik island was reliably hidden from prying eyes, but they couldn’t stay here until nightfall! Alyoshka knew well both this long narrow island and this small noisy groove. Agulom to the mouth of the Kolkha is about two kilometers from here, no more, and if you cross the channel and walk along the bank, it’s as much as three kilometers through the windfall and swamp.

What if... No, Alyoshka is just an abnormal person! How could he forget that above this island, below that bank, the river is divided into two branches? Poachers, no matter how hard they try, will never get across the old Agul - it’s deep, and so fast that stones are carried along the bottom. It turns out that Alyoshka has nothing to fear. He can calmly sail all the way to the Zona channel, and from there it’s a stone’s throw to Solomatka.

Alyoshka strained himself and pushed the boat off the shoal.

Wet from head to toe, with a torn trouser leg, Alyoshka reached the mouth of the Kolkha. Kolkha is a muddy lazy river - it flows and does not flow. Over the summer it became completely shallow and overgrown with pale green, unpleasantly slippery burdocks; The water in it is warm and smelly, like a swamp.

Alyoshka parted the tangled branches of the bird cherry and redwood, wanted to slide down from the grassy bank to cross to the other side, but immediately backed away.

It was them. He recognized them immediately. They were on the other side, on the toe. And with them is Goshka.

Alyoshka hid behind a bird cherry tree and began to watch. Sergei asked Goshka something. Mikhail stood nearby, hunched over under the weight of his backpack. Where are the buckets? Yeah, they put them in their backpacks. This means that the berries were never found. Both of them looked tired, Mikhail (Alyoshka noticed this immediately) had a torn top of his right boot...

Goshka was explaining something, gesturing with his hands. Probably the best way to get to the Zonsky rift. Half an hour ago Alyoshka left the boat there and almost drowned. It’s good that the current knocked him down near the shore and he managed to grab the talina. He got off cheaply: he bruised his knee and damaged his pants. If they had guessed to cross the old Agul, they would have pinned him down. They didn't realize...

Now Alyoshka wasn’t the least bit afraid of them. He just didn't want to get seen by them. He sat in ambush and waited for them to leave. And he also really wanted them to find their boat quickly.

It seems that he waited - they are coming. What if they decide to ferment Colhu in this place? Alyoshka shrank and pressed himself to the ground. No, let's go higher - it's shallower there. They were in a hurry. Mikhail could barely keep up with Sergei. Now Alyoshka couldn’t see them - the bushes were in the way. He heard how they wandered into the water, how they came ashore, and guessed from the crackling of branches that they had gone deeper into the forest.

He deliberately fermented Kolkha not across, but diagonally, almost along. In some places the depth reached the waist. Noticing that his brother had put down the book and was watching him, he deliberately slipped and plunged into the water up to his neck. Now Goshka won’t pester you with questions about where and how he took a swim, he’s not blind - he saw it himself. And in general, Alyoshka won’t tell him anything, at least today. He will tell you later, in three days, when all the fishermen on Agul will be racking their brains to find out who taught the poachers such a great lesson.

Without going ashore, Alyoshka stopped opposite his brother.

Surprised by his unusual appearance, Goshka looked in bewilderment, first at his torn pants, then at his round, sly face.

You... what? - he finally spoke.

“I climbed a cedar tree,” Alyoshka lied without blinking. “I tore my pants... He’ll get it from his mother.”

I could tell from Goshkin’s narrowed eyes that he didn’t believe him. So be it. I wonder if I could tell him everything honestly? He won’t believe it: he’ll say you’re bragging.

He pulled out the soggy bread from his bosom and tried it: it stuck in his mouth - it was not tasty. Threw it into the water for the little ones. I took out a cucumber.

Goshka still looked at his younger brother in bewilderment.

Alyoshka stood knee-deep in the water, crunched a cucumber and also looked first at the little ones, who were tearing the bread together, and then at Goshka. I couldn't stand it and asked:

Where did the guys go?

City people? - Goshka responded readily. - Bunglers! Their boat sailed away. So they searched for old Agul. Weirdos! She must have been carried away to Zonskaya. It didn’t turn over, so it got stuck somewhere on a riffle. Let's go there.

They will find it.

What?

A boat. “On the roll,” Alyoshka grinned.

You saw her, right? - Goshka narrowed his gypsy eyes warily.

No... I climbed a cedar tree. - Alyoshka threw down the half-eaten cucumber and began to take off his shirt.

- You need to dry it, otherwise it’s wet.

He wrung out his shirt and spread it on the grass. As if by the way, I asked:

What, are you waiting for a folder?

I'm sitting like that.

You're lying. Lyubka promised to bring books.

Do you care?

Alyosha didn’t care. He chuckled meaningfully and remained silent. Goshka also didn’t say a word.

...They lay on the grass at a respectful distance from each other. Everyone was busy with their very important business. Goshka read. Alyoshka, having stripped down to his shorts, was sunbathing, and from time to time slapped his naked body, trying to knock down the annoying spider. Both looked at Agul every now and then: one to the left to see if a boat was coming from below, the other to the right to see if another one had appeared from above. Sometimes their gazes met and quickly ran away in different directions.

It is unknown how long this would have lasted if Alyoshka had not jumped up and exclaimed in a jubilant whisper:

They're floating!

A boat appeared around the bend. It was them. Mikhail sat heavily in front; Sergei, standing at the stern, pushed with a pole; The outboard motor was silent. The boat was approaching quickly. So she caught up with the brothers, and Alyoshka saw large white letters on her side. They were apparently in such a hurry that they didn’t even try to cover them with dirt. The letters stuck out impudently into my eyes.

“BRO-HORSES...” Goshka read it syllable by syllable and, casting a surprised glance at Aleshka’s grinning face, muttered: “Error: after “er” - “a” is necessary.”

Current page: 1 (book has 37 pages total) [available reading passage: 25 pages]

Georgy Markov
Father and Son (collection)

All rights reserved. No part of the electronic version of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including posting on the Internet or corporate networks, for private or public use without the written permission of the copyright owner.

Father and son
Novel

Book one

Chapter one

In the sultry July season of one thousand nine hundred and twenty-one, a caravan of caulked tow with pitch and tarred plank boats floated up the Vasyugan. There is cargo in the boats under tarpaulin and birch bark, on the stern and bow benches there are men, women, and children. The boats sank into the water to the very top sides and moved slowly, heavily, as if they were climbing a steep mountain. Although the Vasyugan River is quiet, without a wave, and dark, dark, like chaga broth, it still does not stand still, rolling an impenetrable, muddy mess of water, silt, and woody debris towards the deep Ob pools. A mile from the caravan there are two longboats. They contain horses and cows on tight leashes.

Exploding the eternal silence of Vasyugan, the rows of the rows loudly clapped on the water, the rowlocks squealed piercingly from the strain, and the vociferous men shouted to each other in heroically sonorous voices strong from the echo.

An old, seasoned wood grouse perched himself on the dry top of a tall cedar, stretched out his blued neck and froze, as if petrified. His bird age was coming to an end, and he had never seen such a crowd of people on this silent river.

On the third day of the journey, Vasyugan bent like a snake before a jump and cut through the dense hilly taiga with a long and straight stretch, like a hunting knife. To the left rose a white, almost chalky ravine in excellent forests: cedar, pine, birch - and everything seemed to be selected; and to the right stretched silver sand, both during the day and on moonlit nights, washed clean during the flood. Along the river along the sand there was a green wall of poplars, willows and willow grass. Behind this wall lay smooth water meadows covered with thick grass. In the distance, their run was blocked by an impenetrable, dense taiga. It merged with the sky, and it seemed that it had no end or edge.

When the straight stretch began to curve, the first boat moored to the shore. A tall, long-armed man jumped out of it. He was wearing brodnyas with rolled-up tops, loose canvas trousers, and a satin shirt without a belt. The large forehead was covered with wavy, almost curly light brown hair. On his cheeks and under his lips there was a shaggy beard, also almost curly. On his lean face there is a large nose and restless gray eyes, keen, squinted, wild, like those of an angry lynx, and at times kind, wildly cheerful. It was Roman Zakharovich Bastrykov.

- Head here! - he shouted to the stern in the boats and waved his hands invitingly.

- We hear it, Roman! - they responded from the boats, and one after another they turned to the shore.

“Well, let’s go, guys, to the show,” Bastrykov said to the men who got off the boat with him.

Crushing the weeds with his strong legs, Bastrykov stepped straight into the thicket of the forest and climbed up the mountain. Behind him came a chain: fat, with his dry hand dangling, Vasyukha Stepin; his brother Mityai is a wiry, flexible guy with desperate, mischievous eyes and a grin on his freckled face; the busty strong man Terekha, strong and heavy, as if sawn out of a larch bag, and a ten-year-old boy, a puny chicken, rosy-cheeked and light-eyed, like a girl, Alyoshka, Bastrykov’s son, who never left his father anywhere. The forest hid the men, their voices became unintelligible, and then were completely lost in the motionless muteness of the taiga.

The boats landed, but no one dared to go ashore: what if Roman and the men came and had to sail further and further along the Vasyugan again?

They waited for a long time - maybe an hour, or even more. The crunch of dry wood under the men’s feet began to be heard, then their talking. They were cheerful, talked loudly, laughed, Mityai Stepin whistled both from mischief and pleasure. Roman Bastrykov himself cackled. His favorite Alyoshka squeaked like a chipmunk, tiny and tiny, as if he was blowing into a straw.

-What are you laughing about like standing stallions? - they shouted from the boats when the heads of the men flashed in the coastal weeds.

Alyoshka overtook everyone, ran up to the boats first, choking with laughter, and began to tell:

- Mikhaila Toptygin... he did something strange... We went, and he was playing around in the clearing... We were scared... we wanted to run away. And daddy says: “Let’s darken everything at once.” We shouted. Wow, he'll go crazy! And he went and went, only the crunching. I got so scared that I stained the whole clearing with fright...

Alyoshka threw back his curly head and burst into ringing laughter.

- Lord God, where has this difficult time taken us! - a woman wailed on one of the boats, tied, despite the heat, with a warm shawl.

- And if he rushed at you - then what? Can you take it with your bare hand?! You should have wet your pants then, Alyoshka! – Ivan Soldat, a sedate man with a pitch-black thick beard, grinned at the stern of the largest boat.

- With your bare hand?! But here it is - an ax! Grab a shard between the eyes and you’re done! - approaching the boats, Mityai said and played with the ax, throwing it from hand to hand.

The last one to leave the forest was Bastrykov. The people in the boats fell silent and cast impatient and questioning glances at him. Bastrykov wiped his wet, flushed face with large drops of sweat with his shirt sleeve.

“We’ll settle here, bros.”

“Tell me the benefits,” asked Ivan the Soldier.

And everyone around was on guard so as not to miss anything.

“First of all, the location,” Bastrykov spoke. – Visibility in all directions. We see and we are seen. We will cut down the huts along the ravine, along the river. The forest is right there: pine, spruce, fir. Chop what you like. A little further away there is a cedar tree, and since there is a cedar tree, then a nut, an animal, and berries are at hand.

- Is there any clearing for the arable land? - asked the woman, tied low with a shawl. They shushed her: don’t interrupt, they say, it will come to that, Roman is not without a head.

But Bastrykov heard and answered without delay:

“There are clearings, but you can’t plow them right away.” You will have to burn and uproot.

- Oh, guys, let's go without bread! - the woman exclaimed.

- We’ll live, Lukerya! Fish, game, berries...

– Tell me, Roman, the benefits...

“Well, there are meadows opposite us,” Bastrykov continued. “There is a place for the cattle to fatten up meat and fat.” And next to us is another river. “He waved his long arm. – This little bay marks the mouth. If there is no fish in the big river, we will take it from the small river...

“It’s as if this place was created for us,” confirmed Vasyukha Stepin.

- They don’t seek good from good. Let's unload and prepare the booths for the night. It's not even an hour before the storm will gather. It steams like in a bathhouse. – Ivan Soldat patted his unkempt, shaggy head with a wide palm.

- With God! Isn’t it just a joke about where to die: here or somewhere else? - Lukerya stood up, threw off her half-shawl and, miraculously rejuvenated, easily and deftly jumped out of the boat.

- You'll get to me! – Terekha shouted at his wife and threateningly, without joking, raised his sledgehammer fists to the level of his strong, arched chest.

Men, women, children - everyone rushed from the boats to the shore. Mityai approached a thick pine tree and, with deft blows of an ax, cut off the side. Alyoshka ran into the boat, brought a jar of resin, Mityai wrote in clumsy letters: “The agricultural commune “Druzhba” has settled here.”

– Is the sign appropriate, Roman? – he asked when the work was finished.

Bastrykov sat on a tree stump, planning with the men how to arrange the booths, where to place a common kitchen and build a warehouse for storing supplies and other property.

-What sign? “Bastrykov looked worriedly at Mitya and his son Alyosha, who, like a loach, was hovering around his father and then around the guy.

“And there... Let everyone know that Soviet power and commune have come to Vasyugan,” Mityai said with solemnity in his voice, pointing to a thick coastal pine tree.

- Look, daddy, look! – Alyoshka grabbed his father’s hand and pulled Roman along with him.

Bastrykov stood up and walked up to the pine tree. Every single one of the men followed Roman.

Roman stopped near a pine tree, put his long arms on his sides, threw back his head and froze with a quiet smile on his lips.

- Oh, the devil, he did it! – Bastrykov cast a satisfied glance at Mitya. “The sign is unheard of, no one will pass by such a sign or drive by.” “He narrowed his eyes and read aloud from the warehouses: “The agricultural commune “Druzhba” settled here.” “Then he said these words again and again. Judging by his proud posture, his perky beard, and the bliss that was reflected on his thin face, bronzed in the sun, it was felt that these words evoked both joy and pride in Roman’s soul, and that he had no words in his life that would be more valuable than these now.

Terekha glanced angrily at his wife, and again his weighty fists raised menacingly. But Bastrykov looked at Terekha disapprovingly and Lukerye replied with emphasized respect:

- This is for ourselves, Lukerya! You never know how many people have come up with all sorts of pleasures for themselves. Well, here we are: know, they say, ours, after all, are communards!

-Are we the only ones here? People are scattered here like suslons across the arable land,” said Vasyukha Stepin and turned to his brother. - Mityushka came up with a good deed.

- Ostyak, although he won’t read it, because he’s dark, but if he notices, he’ll notice. “What a keen eye he has,” Bastrykov explained, still turning to Lukerya. “And he is as curious as a child.” Now a rumor will spread that we have settled on White Yar, and they will consider coming to us... We will have to welcome them. The people were oppressed, offended...

– The Paris Communards were friends with all working people. If only you had black calloused hands,” Mityai boasted of his knowledge.

Alyoshka looked at him with envy and stood closer to the guy. He, to the great joy of the boy, hugged him in front of everyone.

“Well, bros, the job must be done,” said Bastrykov. – Some will cut down the forest, others will go fishing with a net. Vasya, you are here on the shore for the elder, and I am there on the water.

- Where will I be, uncle? - Alyoshka got into the conversation.

“Where there is a needle, there is a thread,” Bastrykov grinned affectionately.

- Where will Mityai go, dad?

- Mityai is a lumberjack. He's going to cut down the forest.

Alyoshka thought: it would be nice to go with Mityai, it’s fun with him, but it’s a pity to leave his father, it’s always calm, good with him: whatever you don’t know, he’ll tell you, whatever you ask, he’ll certainly respect it and do it.

“And maybe you, Alyoshka, will go with me to clean the pots?” – Motka, the daughter of Vasya Stepin, a strong, muscular girl, agile as fire, jumped up to the boy.

“Get into the swamp with your bowlers,” Alyoshka waved him off and hurried after his father.

The men went to work, and the place near the hewn pine tree was empty. Only the women were left here to unload their belongings, only Lukerya stepped aside, leaned against a pine tree, looked around with feverish, rebellious black eyes at the wide spread of meadows, the shining river, all covered in golden reflections, the ravine with pine and birch trees hanging over the whirlpool of bottomless pools, and sighed heavily. No, this distant, deserted region seemed alien and inhospitable to her. Neither the abundance of fish in the impenetrable, dark river, nor these deserted expanses full of untouched wealth, nor the joys of communar life that Roman Bastrykov promised with such generosity - nothing touched Lukerya’s heart. Is it really worth vegetating here, in this wilderness, to leave your nest in the agricultural homeland, sail for five days on a half-broken steamboat all the way to the north, all the way to the north, and then scrape for three days on fragile little boats, risking at any moment running into a treacherous underwater boat? ? No…

Lukerya covered her face with her shawl and sobbed.

Lukerya shuddered and straightened up.

“Lord, if only you, you hateful one, would forget me at this hour! There are no children with you, no good has been acquired with you.”

Suddenly sharp axes struck the ravine, their knocking scattered across the taiga, then cross-saws rang, cutting through the drowsy silence of the sultry afternoon, the first pine tree collapsed, and collapsed so much that the earth trembled.

Lukerya hastily crossed herself and said with a groan:

- Fathers of the world, will there really be no end to this wasted life!..

Chapter two

No one, not a single stranger, saw how the communards unloaded from the boats, how they spent three days and three nights without a break building booths, a barn, and cutting down forest to build houses. Early in the morning on the fourth day of life, an incident occurred near Bely Yar, which, like it or not, made me think that the news of the arrival of the Communards was spread throughout Vasyugan by birds.

We sat by the fire and had breakfast. The women fried ides, baked white crumpets from state flour, issued to the commune along with two seines, two longboats, twelve boats, twenty hunting rifles, with supplies “in support of the workers’ and peasants’ power, the communist aspirations of the poor and farm laborers,” as stated in the resolution of the provincial executive committee .

They ate by the fires on long tables made from thick cedar blocks. They ate slowly, busily and thoroughly: hard work lay ahead.

- Boat on the river! - Alyoshka suddenly shouted, jumping out from under the coastal bush, where he had been sitting since dawn with fishing rods.

The communards pushed away their food, stood up from the tables, and moved one after another closer to the river. From here, from the bend of the shore, the lower reach, straight as an arrow, and the upper reach, round and quiet, like a taiga lake, were clearly visible through and through. The boat sailed along this upper reach, closer to the left bank, near which there was still a slight current.

-Where is he sailing from? And who is he?

- Maybe he’s not alone!

“What, he’ll wave a handkerchief at us, and that’s it,” the communards were talking to each other.

Lukerya came up, folded her hands in a cross on her chest, listened to the conversation, her eyes sparkling, and said with a grin:

- What a miracle - a man is coming! Very soon we will go wild and start attacking each other.

- You, Lukeryushka, are used to this. Just blink, and at the moment of the lanterns you’ll show Terekha under the eyes,” Mityai quipped to the laughter of the Communards.

- Damn you dry-rib! Your tongue is like a broom, sweeping away all sorts of dirt! – Lukerya did not remain in debt.

Mityai did not expect such a blow, he was taken aback for a moment, goggled his eyes at the young, flexible Lukerya, and spat out the cigarette butt with relish, intending to say something in response to her that would make the forest sway. But Bastrykov got ahead of him:

– Don’t be rude to her, Mityai. Rudeness will not convince. Just wait: she herself will soon understand our life...

Lukerya took a step back and looked at Bastrykov attentively and with a grateful gaze.

- Thank you, Roman. If everyone were like you, let alone a commune, people would have erected the kingdom of heaven on earth a long time ago.

Bastrykov grinned into his scraggly beard, looked affably at the tall beauty, and said in an admonishing tone:

“Community, Lukerya, is much better than the kingdom of heaven.” This kingdom is for the dead, but communion is for the living.

- Hey, there’s an Ostyak in the boat, wearing a scarf, with a pipe in his mouth! – big-eyed Alyoshka spoke again.

Everyone fell silent, peering intently at the approaching man. It soon became clear that the man was floating in a light blanket, the sides upholstered with a fresh rim of bird cherry twig. In the middle of the area, in an iron bucket, a fire is smoking with a bluish haze. A taiga man never takes a step without fire. Fire is the first remedy against both vipers and beasts. A birch growth, tinder, smolders on the coals and emits a bitter smell. The rest of the day will not live without this smell, just as he will not live even one hour without strong tobacco. The Ostyak will stick to the shore, put a coal under a handful of dry moss, and the fire will blaze with all its might.

- Hello Lenin, but Tsar Mikolashka is not there! - shouted the Ostyak, waving his oar.

“Look, Roman, he’s talking about politics,” Vasyukha Stepin winked.

“The working people sense our Leninist nature,” Mityai concluded with importance in his voice.

Bastrykov looked at the guest.

When the cloud hit the sand spit, the Ostyak rose and went ashore. He was a small, dry old man with a yellow, wrinkled face, a thin three-hair mustache, and the same beard growing on his neck. His half-blind eyes, with red, inflamed eyelids, were watering. Cheeks sunken, cheekbones sharpened. The Ostyak was wearing brodnyas and shabby, patched trousers. A stiff, semi-canvas shirt, burnt at the hem, hung on him like shapeless burlap. The gray head was tied, like a woman, with a colorful, worn-out rag. Sensitive to the needs of others, responsive to any grief, Bastrykov’s soul shuddered. He hurried towards the poor man, holding out his hand. But the old man, seeing him approaching, fell to his knees, raised his hands, and muttered:

- Hello, big boss! Yoska wants to eat and drink. Yoska wants to beat the beast. Porfishka is hiding some supplies, give me a sable, give me a squirrel.

Embarrassed, Bastrykov grabbed the old man under the arms, lifted him, put him on his feet, and said guiltily:

- You can’t do that, buddy! Not old times. Know that I'm not the boss. I am the chairman of the commune. And we are all equal... Lukerya, prepare something for him. First of all, you need to feed him.

The Ostyak was taken to the tables, sat down, surrounded by a wall.

He burned himself with hot donuts and drank sweet tea with sugar in greedy sips. Bastrykov advised the communards to go to work. He left Vasyukha Stepin and Mitya with him. Of course, Alyoshka remained, not taking his eyes off the Ostyak.

When the old man had refreshed himself and, having filled a homemade pipe with tobacco with a long birch mouthpiece decorated with a brass ring, started smoking, the men began to ask what need made him come to the commune. The old man wrinkled his face, began to puff, and tears flowed from his sore eyes.

- Yoska wants to live. Yoska feeds the woman, feeds the guy, feeds the girl... The poor merchant hides goods, hides supplies...

The old man talked for a long time. He was either crying or indignant, shaking his dry, tar-stained and bruised fists, or spitting yellow tobacco saliva. The men listened, trying to correctly understand the confused story.

“So, my friend,” Bastrykov spoke, “you are asking the commune for help.” Know for yourself and tell others: we will help you, even though we ourselves are not rich. We'll give you flour and supplies. Our faith is this: you have a piece, break it off and give it to a friend.

Yoska jumped off the bench, intending to kneel in front of Bastrykov again. But Mityai rather unceremoniously grabbed the old man by the collar and put him on the bench again.

“The Communards, brother, have equality and brotherhood and everything that is, mine is yours, yours is mine.”

The old man realized that Mityai had said something very significant and began to bow to him.

Vasyukha Stepin, appointed by the general meeting of communards to manage the warehouses, went under the shed, where, covered with tarpaulins, lay the commune's food supply, as well as in a special box gunpowder, shot, caps, unassembled, all in grease, double-barreled center-fire guns.

While Vasyukha was weighing out flour on a creaky, rusty kantar, Bastrykov and Mityai were talking with the Ostyak.

- And what, my friend, are there many of you living here in Vasyugan? – asked Bastrykov, without ceasing to look at the old man with sympathetic eyes, with a gentle sparkle.

Ostyak, thoughtfully, pulled the moving wrinkles to his lips, fingered his fingers, was silent for a long time, then spoke unexpectedly animatedly and even smartly:

- Yoska knows everything here. I’ve been to the mouth, I’ve been to the top, I’ve killed an animal in a big swamp. He hunted poultry on Chizhapka. Yoska will count - listen: Yugino camp - five yurts, five more yurts, two more yurts.

“Twelve yurts,” Mityai summed up.

– Margino camp – five yurts, two more yurts.

“Twelve yurts plus seven yurts, a total of nineteen yurts,” Mityai kept his count. – Naunak camp... many yurts?

– Well, tell me, how many yurts are there? Is Naunak much bigger than Yugino? – Bastrykov became interested.

The old man raised his head, tied with a scarf, stared with blind eyes somewhere into the sky, and said firmly:

- Naunak two Yugino and another Margino.

– Twenty-four plus seven is thirty-one.

That means there are thirty-one yurts in your Naunak, father,” Mityai quickly calculated.

“It will be so,” the old man nodded affirmatively.

– Where does Porfishka live? – Bastrykov asked, looking at Mitya with a grin.

- Oh, an ulcer in his belly! – Ostyak angrily waved his hand and looked around cautiously. - Porfishka is a very thin man... He’s seven reaches away from you. – The old man shook his half-bent finger into space. - He will die - God will ask: why, Porfishka, did you torture the Ostyachishkovs? Why did you shoot brother Kirk?

“No, my friend, that won’t work,” Bastrykov waved his curly head. “You need to ask Porfish about this before he dies and don’t leave this work to God.”

“It’s like this among the Communards, brother: trust in God, but don’t make a mistake yourself,” Mityai laughed and hugged the thin, hunched old man.

Ostyak understood Mityaev’s words, touched by the affection, looked into his face:

“You are brave, but Porfishka is cunning.” Hides its tracks during the day, lives at night.

“You let me, Roman, go to this Porfishka and try out his cunning.”

- Wait, Mityai, we’ll go together. I also want to look at this beast. Let him know: we won’t let the Ostyaks be offended!

Alyoshka did not miss the right opportunity and intervened at the most decisive moment:

“Dad, I’ll sit in the row with Mityai.” You're aft. Will it be okay?

Vasyukha Stepin approached with a bundle and a bag in his hands.

- Well, here you are, father, a pound of flour and two hundred charges of gunpowder and shot.

The Ostyak did not expect such generous help. He stood up, looked with enlightened eyes at Vasyukha and Bastrykov, at Mitya and Alyoshka, and waved his arms, as if embracing them in an embrace. Then, not like an old man, he quickly grabbed the bundles and a bag of flour and rushed to a trot to the boat, as if fearing that the treasure he had received would be taken away from him.

“The soul is taiga, but it senses affection no worse than us,” Mityai noted.

When the Ostyak's boat skidded through the water, moving away from the shore, Bastrykov said:

“Our commune is protection from all troubles for them.” And they have only one path - to us.

Georgy Markov

Father and Son (collection)

Father and son. Novel

Book one

Chapter one

In the sultry July season of one thousand nine hundred and twenty-one, a caravan of caulked tow with pitch and tarred plank boats floated up the Vasyugan. In the boats under tarpaulin and birch bark there is cargo, on the stern and bow benches there are men, women, and children. The boats sank into the water to the very top sides and moved slowly, heavily, as if they were climbing a steep mountain. Although the Vasyugan River is quiet, without a wave, and dark, dark, like chaga broth, it still does not stand still, rolling an impenetrable, muddy mess of water, silt, and woody debris towards the deep Ob pools. A mile from the caravan there are two longboats. They contain horses and cows on tight leashes.

On the third day of the journey, Vasyugan bent like a snake before a jump and cut through the dense hilly taiga with a long and straight stretch, like a hunting knife. On the left rose a white, almost chalky ravine in excellent forests: cedar, pine, birch - and everything seemed to be selected; and to the right stretched silver sand, both during the day and on moonlit nights, washed clean during the flood. Along the river along the sand there was a green wall of poplars, willows and willow grass. Behind this wall lay smooth water meadows covered with thick grass. In the distance, their run was blocked by an impenetrable, dense taiga. It merged with the sky, and it seemed that it had no end or edge.

Head here! - he shouted to the stern in the boats and waved his hands invitingly.

We hear it, Roman! - they responded from the boats, and one after another they turned to the shore.

Well, let’s go, guys, to the show,” Bastrykov said to the men who got off the boat with him.

The boats landed, but no one dared to go ashore: what if Roman and the men came and had to sail further and further along the Vasyugan again?

What are you laughing about like standing stallions? - they shouted from the boats when the heads of the men flashed in the coastal weeds.

Alyoshka overtook everyone, ran up to the boats first, choking with laughter, and began to tell:

Mikhaila Toptygin... did something strange... We went, and he was playing around in the clearing... We were scared... we wanted to run away. And daddy says: “Let’s darken everything at once.” We shouted. Wow, he'll go crazy! And he went and went, only the crunching. I got so scared that I stained the whole clearing with fright...

Alyoshka threw back his curly head and burst into ringing laughter.

Lord God, where has this difficult time taken us! - a woman wailed on one of the boats, tied, despite the heat, with a warm shawl.

And if he rushed at you - then what? Can you take it with your bare hand?! You should have wet your pants then, Alyoshka! - Ivan Soldat, a sedate man with a pitch-black thick beard, grinned at the stern of the largest boat.

With your bare hand?! And here it is - an ax! Grab a shard between the eyes - and you're done! - approaching the boats, Mityai said and played with the ax, throwing it from hand to hand.

This is where we’ll settle, bros.

Tell me the benefits,” asked Ivan the Soldier.

And everyone around was on guard so as not to miss anything.

“First of all, the place,” Bastrykov spoke. - Visibility in all directions. We see and we are seen. We will cut down the huts along the ravine, along the river. The forest is right there: pine, spruce, fir. Chop what you like. A little further away there is a cedar tree, and since there is a cedar tree, then a nut, an animal, and berries are at hand.

Is there any clearing for the arable land? - asked the woman, tied low with a shawl. They shushed her: don’t interrupt, they say, it will come to that, Roman is not without a head.

But Bastrykov heard and answered without delay:

There are clearings, but you just can’t plow them right away. You will have to burn and uproot.

Oh, guys, let's go without bread! - the woman exclaimed.

Let's live, Lukerya! Fish, game, berries...

Tell me, Roman, the benefits...

Well, there are meadows opposite us,” Bastrykov continued. - There is somewhere for the cattle to fatten up their meat and fat. And next to us is another river. - He waved his long arm. - This little bay marks the mouth. If there is no fish in the big river, we will take it from the small river...

It’s as if this place was created for us,” confirmed Vasyukha Stepin.

They do not seek good from good. Let's unload and prepare the booths for the night. It's not even an hour before the storm will gather. It steams like in a bathhouse. - Ivan Soldat patted his unkempt, shaggy head with a wide palm.

With God! Isn’t it just a joke about where to die: here or somewhere else? - Lukerya stood up, threw off her half-shawl and, miraculously rejuvenated, easily and deftly jumped out of the boat.

You'll get to me! - Terekha shouted at his wife and threateningly, without joking, raised his sledgehammer fists to the level of his strong, arched chest.

Roman, is the sign appropriate? - he asked when the work was finished.

Bastrykov sat on a tree stump, planning with the men how to arrange the booths, where to place a common kitchen and build a warehouse for storing supplies and other property.

What sign? - Bastrykov looked worriedly at Mitya and his son Alyosha, who, like a loach, was hovering around his father and then around the guy.

And there... Let everyone know that Soviet power and commune have come to Vasyugan,” Mityai said with solemnity in his voice, pointing to a thick coastal pine tree.

Look, daddy, look! - Alyoshka grabbed his father’s hand and pulled Roman along with him.

Bastrykov stood up and walked up to the pine tree. Every single one of the men followed Roman.

Roman stopped near a pine tree, put his long arms on his sides, threw back his head and froze with a quiet smile on his lips.

Oh, damn, I did it! - Bastrykov cast a satisfied look at Mitya. - The sign is unheard of, no one will pass by such a sign or drive by. “He narrowed his eyes and read aloud from the warehouses: “The agricultural commune “Druzhba” settled here.” - Then he said these words again and again. Judging by his proud posture, his perky beard, and the bliss that was reflected on his thin face, bronzed in the sun, it was felt that these words evoked both joy and pride in Roman’s soul, and that he had no words in his life that would be more valuable than these now.

Terekha glanced angrily at his wife, and again his weighty fists raised menacingly. But Bastrykov looked at Terekha disapprovingly and Lukerye replied with emphasized respect:

This is for ourselves, Lukerya! You never know how many people have come up with all sorts of pleasures for themselves. Well, here we are: know, they say, ours, after all, are communards!

Are we alone here? People are scattered here like suslons across the arable land,” said Vasyukha Stepin and turned to his brother. - Mityushka came up with a good deed.

Ostyak, although he won’t read it because he’s dark, but if he notices, he’ll notice. “His eye is so keen and passionate,” Bastrykov explained, still turning to Lukerya. - And he is as curious as a child. Now a rumor will spread that we have settled on White Yar, and they will consider coming to us... We will have to welcome them. The people were oppressed, offended...

The Paris Communards were friends of all working people. If only you had black calloused hands,” Mityai boasted of his knowledge.

Alyoshka looked at him with envy and stood closer to the guy. He, to the great joy of the boy, hugged him in front of everyone.

Well, bros, the job must be done,” said Bastrykov. - Some will cut down the forest, others will go fishing with a net. Vasya, you are here on the shore for the elder, and I am there on the water.

Where will I be, daddy? - Alyoshka got into the conversation.

“Where there is a needle, there is a thread,” Bastrykov grinned affectionately.

Where will Mityai go, daddy?

Mityai is a lumberjack. He's going to cut down the forest.

Alyoshka thought: it would be nice to go with Mitya, it’s fun with him, but it’s a pity to leave his father, it’s always calm, good with him: whatever you don’t know, he’ll tell you, whatever you ask, he’ll certainly respect it and do it.

And maybe you, Alyoshka, will go with me to clean the pots? - Motka, the daughter of Vasya Stepin, a strong, muscular girl, agile as fire, jumped up to the boy.

“Get into the swamp with your bowlers,” Alyoshka waved it off and hurried after his father.

The men went to work, and the place near the hewn pine tree was empty. Only the women were left here to unload their belongings, only Lukerya stepped aside, leaned against a pine tree, looked around with feverish, rebellious black eyes at the wide spread of meadows, the shining river, all covered in golden reflections, the ravine with pine and birch trees hanging over the whirlpool of bottomless pools, and sighed heavily. No, this distant, deserted region seemed alien and inhospitable to her. Neither the abundance of fish in the impenetrable, dark river, nor these deserted expanses full of untouched wealth, nor the joys of communar life, which Roman Bastrykov promised with such generosity - nothing touched Lukerya’s heart. Is it really worth vegetating here, in this wilderness, to leave your nest in the agricultural homeland, sail for five days on a half-broken steamboat all the way to the north, all the way to the north, and then scrape for three days on fragile little boats, risking at any moment running into a treacherous underwater boat? ? No…

Lukerya covered her face with her shawl and sobbed.

Lukerya shuddered and straightened up.

“Lord, if only you, you hateful one, would forget me at this hour! There are no children with you, no good has been acquired with you.”

Lukerya hastily crossed herself and said with a groan:

Fathers of the world, will there really be no end to this wasted life!..

Chapter two

They ate by the fires on long tables made from thick cedar blocks. They ate slowly, busily and thoroughly: hard work lay ahead.

Boat on the river! - Alyoshka suddenly shouted, jumping out from under the coastal bush, where he had been sitting since dawn with fishing rods.

Where is he sailing from? And who is he?

Or maybe he is not alone!

What if he waves a handkerchief at us, and so he was, - the communards were talking to each other.

Lukerya came up, folded her hands in a cross on her chest, listened to the conversation, her eyes sparkling, and said with a grin:

What a miracle - a man is coming! Very soon we will go wild and start attacking each other.

You, Lukeryushka, are used to this. Just blink, and at the moment of the lanterns you will show Terekha under the eyes,” Mityai quipped to the laughter of the communards.

Damn you dry ribs! Your tongue is like a broom, sweeping away all sorts of dirt! - Lukerya did not remain in debt.

Don't be rude to her, Mityai. Rudeness will not convince. Just wait: she herself will soon understand our life...

Lukerya took a step back and looked at Bastrykov attentively and with a grateful gaze.

Thank you, Roman. If everyone were like you, let alone a commune, people would have erected the kingdom of heaven on earth a long time ago.

At dusk, Aleksashka was running along the street along the fences. My heart hurt, sweat blurred my eyes. A hut burning in the distance darkly illuminated the puddles in the ruts. About twenty paces from Aleksashka, drunken Danila Menshikov was running, his boots thumping. This time it was not the whip in his hand—the curved knife sparkled. - Stop! - Danila screamed in a terrible voice, - I’ll kill you!.. - Alyoshka was left behind long ago, climbed a tree somewhere. Aleksashka did not see his father for more than a year, and then he met him at a broken and set fire to a tavern, and Danila immediately chased after his son. All this time, Aleksashka and Alyoshka lived, although from hand to mouth, but cheerfully. In the settlements the boys were known well and were warmly allowed to spend the night. During the summer they wandered around Moscow through groves and rivers. They caught songbirds and sold them to merchants. They stole berries and vegetables from gardens. Everyone thought - to catch and train the bear to break, but the animal did not fall easily into the hands. Fished. One day, having cast a fishing rod into the quiet and bright Yauza, which flowed out of the dense forests of Losinov Island, they saw on the other bank a boy sitting with his chin propped up. He was dressed wonderfully - in white stockings and a green non-Russian caftan with red lapels and clear buttons. Not far away, on a hillock, the ridged roofs of the Preobrazhensky Palace rose from behind linden bushes. Once it was all visible, reflected in the river, elegant and colorful, but now it was overgrown with leaves and fell into disrepair. Women were running at the gate and across the meadow, shouting for someone—they must have been looking for the boy. But he, sitting angrily behind the burdock trees, didn’t even listen. Aleksashka spat on the worm and shouted across the river: - Hey, scare our fish... Look, we'll take off our trousers and swim across - we'll... The boy just snorted. Alexashka again: -Who are you, whose? Boy... “But I’ll order you to cut off your head,” said the boy in a dull voice, “then you will find out.” Now Alyoshka whispered to Alexashka: “What are you talking about, this is the king,” and threw the rod to run without looking back. Aleksashka’s blue eyes sparkled with self-indulgence: - Wait, we’ll have time to escape. - He threw out the fishing rod, laughing, and began to look at the boy. - They were very scared of you, one of them cut off your head... Why are you sitting there? They are looking for you... “I’m sitting here, hiding from the women.” “I’m looking to see if you’re our king.” A? The boy did not answer immediately, apparently he was surprised that they spoke boldly. - Well, the king. What do you want? - Why... But you should have gone ahead and brought us some sugar gingerbread. (Peter looked at Alexashka intently, without smiling.) By God, run, bring it, and I’ll show you a trick. - Alexashka took off his hat and pulled out a needle from behind the lining. “Look, is there a needle or not?.. If you want, I’ll drag the needle and thread through my cheek, and nothing will happen.” -Are you lying? - asked Peter. - Here, I’ll cross myself. Do you want me to cross my leg? - Alexashka quickly sat down, grabbed his bare foot and crossed himself with his foot. Peter was even more surprised. “If only the king were running around buying gingerbread,” he said grumpily. - Will you drag a needle for money? “I’ll drag it three times for silver money, and nothing will happen.” -Are you lying? - Peter began to blink with curiosity. He stood up, looked from behind the burdocks in the direction of the palace, where some women were still fussing, calling, calling him, and ran from the other side along the bank to the bridge. Having reached the end of the bridge, he found himself three steps from Aleksashka. Blue dragonflies chattered above the water. Clouds and a weeping willow broken by lightning were reflected. Standing under a willow tree, Aleksashka showed Peter a trick - he pulled a needle with a black thread through his cheek three times, - and there was nothing: not a drop of blood, only three dirty spots on his cheek. Peter looked with owl eyes. “Give me the needle,” he said impatiently. - What are you - money?- Here! Alexashka quickly picked up the thrown ruble. Peter, taking the needle from him, began to drag it through his cheek. He pierced, dragged and laughed, throwing back his curly head: “No worse than you, no worse than you!” - Forgetting about the boys, he ran to the palace, probably to teach the boyars to smuggle needles. The ruble was brand new, with a double-headed eagle on one side and the ruler Sophia on the other. Aleksashka and Alyoshka haven’t made so much money in a long time. From then on, they got into the habit of going to the banks of the Yauza, but they only saw Peter from afar. Either he was riding on a dwarf horse, and fat guys were galloping behind him, then he was walking with a drum in front of the guys dressed in German caftans, with wooden muskets, and again the same guys were fussing around, waving their arms. “He’s busy with trifles,” said Aleksashka, sitting under a broken willow tree. At the end of the summer, he managed to buy from the gypsies for fifty dollars a thin bear cub with a hump like a pig's. Alyoshka began to lead him by the ring. Aleksashka sang, danced, fought with the bear. But autumn came, and the rains stirred up knee-deep mud on Moscow streets and squares. There is nowhere to dance. They are not allowed into the huts with the beast. And the bear ate a lot before - he ate it all, and even tried to go to bed for the winter. I had to sell it at a loss. In winter, Alyoshka, dressed as pitifully as possible, begged for alms. Aleksashka was shaking in the church squares, naked to the waist, in the cold, as if mute and paralyzed, squeezing out a lot of money. There is no point in angering God; we didn’t live a bad winter. And again - the earth dried out, the groves turned green, the birds began to sing. There’s plenty to do: catch fish in the foggy river at dawn, wander around the markets during the day, and set a snare in the grove in the evening. People told Alexashka many times: “Look, your father has been looking for you in Moscow for a long time, threatening to kill you.” Aleksashka only spat three fathoms through his teeth. And unexpectedly, out of the blue, he ran into... Aleksashka ran all the way through old Basmannaya; his legs began to cramp. He didn’t look back anymore, he heard: boots were stomping closer and closer behind him, Danila was breathing whistlingly. Well - it's over! “Karauuuul!” - Aleksashka shouted squeaky. At this time, a tall carriage turned, swaying, from the alley onto Razgulay, where the famous tavern stood. Two horses harnessed by a goose were walking at a fast trot. In the front sat a German in stockings and a wide-brimmed hat. Aleksashka immediately swerved towards the rear wheels, hung on the axle, and climbed onto the back of the carriage. Seeing this, Danila roared: “Stop!” But the German whipped him with a backhand, and Danila, choking with curses, fell into the mud. The carriage passed. Alexashka was resting, sitting on his backside - he had to get as far away from this place as possible. Outside the Pokrovsky Gate the carriage turned onto a smooth road, went faster and soon arrived at a high palisade. A foreign man stood up from the gate and asked something. A head stuck out of the carriage, like a priest’s, with long curls, but a shaved face. “Franz Lefort,” answered the head. The gates opened, and Aleksashka found himself in Kukui, in a German settlement. The wheels rustled on the sand. The welcoming light from the windows of small houses fell on low fences, on trimmed trees, on glass balls standing on poles among the sandy paths. In the gardens in front of the houses, the flowers were white and smelled wonderful. Here and there Germans in knitted caps sat on benches and on porches and held long pipes. “Honest mother, they live cleanly,” thought Aleksashka, turning his head behind the carriage. Lights sparkled in the eyes. We drove past a quadrangular pond - along its edges there were round trees in green tubs, and between them there were burning bowls, illuminating several boats, where, having raised their outer skirts so as not to wrinkle them, sat women with bare arms up to the elbows, with open breasts, hats with feathers, laughed and sang. Here, under the windmill, at the illuminated door of the austeria, or in our opinion - the tavern, girls and men danced in pairs, grappling, in pairs. Musketeers walked everywhere - in the Kremlin, stern and silent, here - in unbuttoned caftans, without weapons, arm in arm with each other, singing songs, laughing - without anger, peacefully. Everything was peaceful here, welcoming: it was as if it wasn’t on earth, just enough to wipe your eyes... Suddenly they drove into a wide courtyard, in the middle of which water was gushing from a round lake. In the background was a brick-painted house with white pillars attached to it. The carriage stopped. A man with long hair got out of it and saw Alexashka jumping off his back. -Who are you, why are you, where are you from here? - he asked, pronouncing the words funny. - I'm asking you, boy. Are you a thief? - Am I the thief? Then beat me to death if I'm a thief. - Alexashka looked cheerfully into his shaved face with an upturned nose and a small smiling mouth. “Did you see how my father ran after me with a knife on Razgulay?” - A! Yes, I saw... I laughed: big after small. “My father will kill me anyway.” Please take me into your service... Uncle... - To the service? What can you do? - I can do everything. The first is to sing whatever songs you want. I play pipes, horns, and spoons. I can make you laugh - how many times have people burst, that’s how much I can make you laugh. I’ll start dancing at dawn, finish at dawn, and not break a sweat... Whatever you tell me, I can do it. Franz Lefort took Alexashka by the sharp chin. Apparently he liked the boy. - Oh, you’re a good-sized boy... Take some soap and wash yourself, for you’re dirty... And then I’ll give you a dress. You will serve. But if you steal... “We don’t do this, we, tea, either have intelligence or not,” said Aleksashka so confidently that Franz Lefort believed it. Having shouted something to the groom about Aleksashka, he walked towards the house, whistling, twisting his toes and seeming to dance as he walked, probably because music was playing nearby on the lake and German women were squealing provocatively.