28.03.2024

Being an avid angler

What unusual thing happened to us on a fishing trip. What amazing stories we did not hear at the evening fire from the same experienced, and sometimes very young anglers.

Once again, arriving on a visit to his niece in the village of Nikolskoye, Kostroma region, I, as usual, in the evening I went to visit my neighbor Antonina. Word for word, and Tonya told me a very unusual, almost unbelievable story about her husband.

This so excited me that, on returning home, told her household, and now I want to share with readers.

Boris, being an avid fisherman, came with a fishing rod in the hands of near and distant surroundings. Once, going for mushrooms, he found in almost impassable forest thicket forest small lake, from which flowed a trickle. Marshy shores overgrown with bushes and stinging nettle in human growth hid him from prying eyes. Place immediately liked and didn’t disappoint when Boris came here with fishing rods. Of course, several small crucians not much of a catch, but is this happiness. Not a soul around, the silence broken only by birdsong and the rustle of leaves, the perfect environment to relax, forget about the Affairs and concerns. Since then, the lake became his favorite place almost every day after work he came here on a date with nature.

This time the evening was surprisingly warm and windless. The first cast brought a good Karasik: “Well, – thought Boris – is seen today is fresh and biting, bring Antonina fish on a nice zhareha.” As often happens in fishing, the idea proved fatal, and the first bite was the last. No replace nozzle or casting close to the weed to no avail. The sun was hot, the floats caught in the mirrored surface, and Boris quietly sank into a sweet slumber. Was awakened by a loud splash. Awake it seemed someone big jumped in the water.

Looked around, floats still, a little away from them of the divergent water circles a handsome bearded face with staring curiously at the angler. A few minutes man and animal in complete immobility looked at each other. Then the beast twice, snorted, and dived, before finally disappear, for a moment appeared almost next to the floats. “What kind of fishing, thought Boris, storing fishing rods and so do not bite, and then appeared this beast, seen the owner of the lake, and the last fish broke up.” Before leaving, Boris, to appease the “owner” had left on the shore hunk fragrant rustic bread for dinner and put it in his knapsack wife, next to put a caught carp.

The next day he came to the lake, dried but intact carp lay in its place, and the bread there was not a single crumb. On wet soil at the water’s edge were clearly visible traces of “the master.” Clearly, the bread came to taste and fish is not needed.

Tackle the killer carp with their hands

Slowly unwound and his first fishing rod, Boris undertook was for a second, but then the float quivered, slid to the side and resolutely went under water. Barely having time to grab a fishing rod, Boris immediately feel resistance, the cutting is not required, the rod bent in an arc. Very surprised angler, when after a short fight with the fish on the shore jumped a hefty, almost black carp under eight grams. Sending fish in the tank, Boris made a new casting and it was the same, however, this time the carp were smaller, but certainly more than two hundred grams. Pretty long the second rod was out of work, with one that could barely be controlled. In the heat of such fishing Bob immediately noticed the owner, who was watching him, rising on the opposite Bank. “Hello,” quietly said Boris did a slight bow. The master said nothing, but Boris thought that whiskered face answered with a light nod and silently walked away.

Significantly weakened the bite continued for another half an hour, and then stopped altogether. In the cage by this time it was about five pounds, and even though dark was still far away, there was clearly today all allowance is made. Mentally thanking the owner, angler, trying once again to see him, carefully examined the reach, and the opposite shore, was far as the density of shore to bend of the lake, but in vain, no trace. Leaving home, Boris in gratitude left in the same place a loaf of fragrant bread, a slice of cheese and half a peeled egg, and a dead carp took with him to throw on the road.

Antonina was surprised such an early return of her husband, and when Zadok saw an unprecedented catch, jumped up, clasping her hands. How many fish? Listening to the story of her husband, she incredulously smiled, and though nodding in approval, before the end of this story and didn’t believe.

From the egg was only a shell, and the bread and cheese disappeared completely. Master as if waiting for the arrival of Boris. Rising near the shore and friendly Papirov, he, as if welcoming his friend, made a few circular floating near the floats.

“Hello, Hello, buddy, quietly spoke to Boris and gave him a friendly wave. – You’d better not swim near fishing floats, buddy, don’t scare the fish…” there was no Answer, the owner dived and disappeared. “Offended,” thought Boris, but when at the edge of the grass opposite shore appeared smiling mustachioed face, once again waved her hand and made a slight bow. This date is over. Boris stayed until almost dark, but the owner was never seen again. Biting, though not as intense, and this time was pleased with the angler, the carp were smaller, but was caught a few decent perch. Tank like last time made Tonya a strong impression.

Leaving home, Boris had carefully collected all the remaining shells on the shore and put on the old place a treat in the form of buns, slices of bread and peeled eggs.

The friendship of Boris with the master day by day grew stronger. Often his whiskered face appeared at the water’s edge and the beady eyes gazed up at the man. A wild animal so used to Boris that absolutely wasn’t scared of him and sometimes took the bread right out of his hands. Now, as soon as he appeared on the lake, the owner met him with a joyous popiskivanie, graceful swimmer, demonstrating the ability to silently dive, and then, as if washing up, rubbed his muzzle with paws. Yielding to the request of Boris, the owner sailed away to his downfall near the floats do not interfere with fishing. The time has come, when one day the owner came with his girlfriend. She was slightly smaller, lighter and less gullible, at least not nearly never came and only watched from afar the friends.

This friendship lasted more than one year, and neighbors in the village knew about the owner of the lake, and once even saw him. However, when the owner consistently sailed and only occasionally glanced at them from afar. Many of the village found out about the lake, which has now led visible path, tried fished it, but none could boast of catches. So, five, ten, rarely fifteen crucians, and all.

By the end of autumn poured the rains, Boris caught cold and for more than two weeks not appeared at the lake. A neighbor, who came namestie him, casually announced that he had seen on the lake the remains of a fire and two dead beavers. Those words Boris had dark eyes. On the move he put on a jacket, he rushed to the lake, hoping that at least it wasn’t his friends. What he saw shocked: among the piles of garbage left by the visiting vandals, laid him lifeless Pets.

Tears flowed in streams on the wrinkled face of a farmer when he was cursing the poachers, and buried their friends. Once raised a hand these scoundrels to shoot at defenseless, trusting animals, why they took the death of these creatures?

Antonina, sharing his grief, how he could comfort her husband, but in vain. Boris was so sad losing a friend that he had become gloomy, from old, all black. This sturdy, never seriously ill a rural man, so distressed that soon got a heart attack in the hospital, which has not happened…

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