The last dawn

I hadn't been to my native village for a week, and when I returned from work on the eve of the weekend, the first thing I did was run to a hunting friend.

— Come on, let's sit for a while! I called him right from the doorway.

— What kind of ducks can there be now! — the comrade doubted. — It's already the middle of November...

Admittedly, these words of a friend caused me doubts, too. Indeed, it is the sixteenth of November! In the old days, ice held down reservoirs at this time, and snow lay on the fields. What kind of duck hunting is there! But on the other hand, autumn was warm today, and apart from the frosts that began to fall in the last few days, there was still no cold weather.

In short, I probably wouldn't have gone hunting if it hadn't been for my passion, which turned out to be stronger than any calculations.

And now—a gun on my shoulders, an oar in my hand—and I'm hurrying to the lake; I wasn't there!

I was in a hurry. The sun was sinking towards the horizon, and its disk was about to touch the jagged steppe of the forest, but I still had a long way to go: sail by boat across Kudinsky Lake, turn into a swamp flooded with flood waters and make my way along it to a small river, and then along it, drive to a strip of reed thickets, where I I spent duck dawns.

Looking at the sun, I would not be late! "I was pulling on the oar.

It is difficult to move through the thick grass of the swamp, along its numerous hummocks hidden in the water. The boat bumps into them every now and then. I change direction, avoid bumps, but they get in the way again and again. In addition, in some places the swamp is so shallow that you have to get out of the boat and drag it by the chain.

But then the narrow ribbon of the river flashed! I make the last strokes of the paddle, and the boat crashes into a wall of reeds. I choose a place to hide and go a few meters deeper into the undergrowth. Now I can't even see the boat, but I can see everything around me perfectly. Good skradok!

The sun sank behind the forest, and the dawn dyed a part of the sky red, hung fiery scarves on the tops of the pines. Gradually, the colors of dawn fade, and the air becomes darker and darker as dusk gathers. The first large autumn stars flashed in a clear sky, foreshadowing clear weather for tomorrow.

You listen carefully to every sound. The reeds are whispering softly about something, swaying thin yellow stems topped with fluffy plumes of panicles. Somewhere in a nearby birch grove, a belated, restless thrush screamed alarmingly. And it's quiet again.

But there are still no ducks. "Won't they really fly? — I'm asking myself. "Obviously, my friend was right."

As always at dawn, the ducks appeared suddenly. I saw four birds flying high above my head. In the excitement, without taking into account the distance, I shoot and miss! Failure is sobering, makes you calm down. I'm waiting again. I notice that three more ducks are flying right at me. It's all I can do not to jump to my feet. The birds are getting closer and closer. I raise my gun.

The ducks noticed the movement and broke formation, soaring upward, but too late. A gunshot breaks the silence of a November evening. The preemption was taken correctly. One bird falls into the reeds, not far from the boat, and soon I find the first trophy among the withered sedges and ferns. In the hands of a mallard drake. Wow, and he's heavy, a well-fed November beauty, ready for departure. His multicolored plumage pleasantly cools his hands. An enviable catch!

Another flock of ducks passes over the reeds, cutting through the air with their wings so that I can hear their increasing whistle. I'm shooting. A duck separates from the flock and falls into the clear water in front of the reeds. She's injured and trying to dive. I finish her off with the second shot. This time my trophy was the northern guest, the savka duck.

Several more flocks of ducks pass by at a respectful distance from the skradka. I follow them with my eyes and sit down again.

And the sky turns from blue to pitch black. You won't notice a bird against the background of such a sky. The ducks are already flying overhead, but you can't see where, they are hidden by the dark canopy of the sky. Only the whistling of fast wings is heard.

So, the dawn is over, it's time to go home. Running over hummocks, getting stuck in thickets of tallow, I barely make my way to the lake. I'm having fun, okay. There are two glorious trophies in my boat.

However, it got colder. My hands are freezing. In some places, where the grass is especially thick, an ice rink has appeared. It cracks like thin glass... The cold is hurrying me...

Having landed on the shore and capsized the boat, I go home, but on the way, unable to resist, I go to a friend. He is genuinely amazed by the loot and berates himself for not going to take a photo...

In the morning, when I woke up and looked out the window, I saw that the branches of trees, the roofs of buildings and the ground were covered with gray frost, and yesterday the glistening puddles were frozen, and children were running over them. So yesterday's duck hunt was my last of the season, and I'll be happy to remember it more than once, with all the smallest details. After you have clicked the link and gone to the Melbet homepage, look in the top right-hand corner. Here you will find a yellow button which says 'registration' on it. Click on that and it will open out the new customer form that you have to fill in to gain an account with Melbet. Best melbet promo code today which helps new users to claim a 150% bonus up to ₹52,000 when they sign up on the platform. The Metbet welcome bonus is ₹40,000 but you can claim ₹52,000.