Imitation fish had to charge in the dark

The cold of the night began to press harder. I need the oven to heat thoroughly before going to sleep, Yes firewood to stock – up in the morning have to heat a little more than once. Wearing a fur hat, fur gloves and went out into the yard.

The sky over the house have lost their formal weak fading and turned into inky-purple abyss, the bottom of which the stars shone. Under the barn was busy and whines, clinging to each other, puppies. Somewhere far away, several miles, went dog – maybe a wolf on the prowl passed by the farm. And the absolute silence of the frozen steppe, which cannot be in nature, but only somewhere in the silent space. All around stiff. The thermometer fell to somewhere below 25 degrees and there too stood.

Yes, and I will soon be chilled if so post some more with her mouth open. Went to the woodpile, put on the head torch and took up the axe. After each stroke the wood with a crash flew to the side. When there is a good pile of split wood, raked all at once in his arms, grunted from the effort, straightened up and carried into the house.

Woke up in the morning not from the light outside the window, and from the cold. Unsuccessfully folded the stove is kept warm 3-4 hours and then into the room stealthily flowed through various slits grandpa Cold and sweetly asked: “how are you guys doing without me? I do not miss?”

– Never! – I wanted to say in response, but the room was empty, only a pair of his mouth, but he was huddled under a blanket trying to get warm. Very useful were the prepared wood and paper for kindling. After twenty minutes in the oven buzzed the fire and the room was so warm. Stir and blissfully stretched out under a blanket with the girls.

– Well? Go fishing on Grishkino hole?

– Nah, – Volodya sweetly stretched, – I yesterday the tip of the nose froze. While warm sit.

– And Breakfast, too?

– Yes you che?! Say, too, without thinking…

Day the fisherman goes slowly, but flies like a flash. Snack tightly to last longer, put on the shoulder of the box, drill and took to the river. The snow creaks under Shoe covers loud and clear, frosty air the breath.

Well, where to first? Bersha yesterday caught. Perch do not want to – always plenty of time. But the pike-perch catch would be very helpful. A good perch in a bright winter day seldom comes. Only in the dark. Hence, it makes sense to go now on the Cross, to overfeed five holes, but on motelica Belle to patagate. What bigger – for home, for family, and trifle – live bait go.

While tame pit “silent”, I decided to warm up with the balancer. Duct Cross itself is no deeper than two meters and the balancer is needed here is small but with a quality game to “eight” was smooth. First, second, third hole is a long silence. But if struck at the tackle. Once more threw the balancer – shock in hand and the line elastically stretched. Slowly, but not giving slack pulled out of the hole hunchback “sailor”. No Bosun, but for a long time and not Jung. Mater like this. Nice, damn it. He alone or with company? Yeah, second, third, fourth. Then came the rookie. Need a new hole to drill.

Unconsciously carried away and only by noon, woke up – and how tame hole? Came back, threw another monkey with small bloodworms, and slowly the line imposed by 0.12 “Uralochka” (John), bloodworm baited and lowered into the hole. Almost immediately a nod recaptured the “Morse code” – set the hook! Hooked – empty, just hanging on the hook bloodworms sucked. Baited straight from the tin. Again Morse code pull! And again empty the waders. Ah, damn it! Okay, be patient. A nod seemed to live continuously draws a complex stress test. Do not pay attention. Waiting for something else. Here it is! The nod went down like he was about to put a fat point.

Cutting in two movements pull the line from the hole – and here on the ice jumped, zashlepal tail my ingenious roach. For live bait will be big – fingers is not enough to completely embrace it. But I’m not mad. It is in itself a good trophy.

Then another couple of platic. Different and zivcovic, and large. Started to slip “fanerku”. From time to time the biting slowed, and it was necessary to add bait. And along with the breath. Imperceptibly the sun is overcast clouds, the sky turned gray as if even savearea. Looked at his watch. Bah, I have the whole day here was spent instead of the planned couple of hours. An hour later, the night will come. Curled up, threw a big fish in a package, picked up the 5-liter bottle with bait fish and hurried on to the river.

Imitation fish had to charge in the dark, cursing and freezing the capacity of love his hands. To night again, very cold. For a few moments the hole had taken a strong crust of ice. Numb fingers refused to tie knots, the water in the bottle constantly grappled with an icicle, removed the bait fish were immediately transfixed. In General, the meal of a Martyr, and not a vacation, this is your fishing. A normal person these things will be engaged in only for triple salary.

Loaded last Postavsky and ran into the house to heat. And there is already fun, loud voices and smoke yoke. It was something that someone came upon perches “Congress” and brought home a bag of fish. On Grishkina pit all got several of Berchem and at least one perch. One was fortunate to have six pieces, and the largest perch was somewhere under five pounds and from time to time with the roar opened the lid, trying to escape. From time to time, he tried to catch excellent dimensional white bream and roach, but what is two dozen and let the fat white bream in comparison with impressive catches of “Okoneshnikov” or hardened walleye? He just didn’t give the words to say and he was modestly silent.

Although he was the main character: did you catch that fall, and he did so to catch what you need. And he did it very successfully. I would even say professionally. No one else is able to. Went after midnight, and then only because tomorrow to get up at first light.

The next day was the most ordinary. The frozen fishermen with half-empty boxes back on the light, crashing unloaded in the corridor all the equipment and walked into a warm room.

– Kolka! What are you doing in the room to start some trouble doing? – was heard behind the wall. – If you left your house? Where is the promised pilaf?

In response unintelligible bellowing.

– The hell with you, do without you. Guys, where the vodka was?

Prolonged ringing of the empty dishes.

– Nick, where is the vodka? In the box yesterday more box left.

– What?! Over? – barely said Kolyan.

– You vermin! You should limit?!

What? She drink and drink. Well I drink and drink – came full of relaxed languor, the voice of nick, is that ended.

Until the end of the fishing he gave the punishment of a gram. Nick cruelly toiled, but did not complain, realizing his guilt, but only pitifully looked friends in the eye, like a punished dog, and was looking for sympathy at least polstakanchika.

Four more days of fishing continued with varying success: the full zero and frostbitten noses, very heavy boxes. And then people began to disperse: end of winter school holidays. End and new year holidays for adults. On the last day from the morning began to pack, to share and to put on the bags the fish, loaded a huge smoker and after half an hour on the street pulled a fragrant smell of freshly smoked fish: perch, perch, pike. For lunch everything was Packed in the car and soon the base was empty. A new wave of suffering to fish, now with spinning, washes somewhere in the beginning of March. May also go for three to four day? We’ll live, we’ll see: if you’re lucky and things will go, it will be necessary to go.

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