In spring, snow lies in the mountains, and edelweiss bloom, and the blue feather of a jay flickers in green cedars. And the sun shines brighter here than down in the valley. The black raven silently flies around the mountains. The noise of his wings is heard far away, even a mountain stream cannot drown them out. A raven flies slowly from one peak to another: is there a sick hare somewhere? Or maybe the little hen fell behind his mother?
The hare hid in the grass, the little chicken clung even tighter to the ground. Everyone is afraid of the raven, even the deer shudders at its croaking and looks around anxiously.
The raven returns with nothing: he is very old. He sits on a rock and warms his sick wing. The raven froze him a hundred years, maybe two hundred years ago. Spring is all around, and he is all alone.
WILD BEAST
Vera had a baby squirrel. His name was Ryzhik. He ran around the room, climbed on the lampshade, sniffed at the plates on the table, climbed up the back, sat on Vera's shoulder and unclenched Vera's fist with his claws - he was looking for nuts. Ryzhik was tame and obedient. But one day, on New Year, Vera hung toys on the Christmas tree, and nuts, and sweets, and just left the room, she wanted to bring candles, Ryzhik jumped on the Christmas tree, grabbed a nut, hid it in a galosh. The second nut was placed under the pillow. The third one immediately gnawed ...
Vera entered the room, but there was not a single nut on the Christmas tree, only silver pieces of paper were lying on the floor.
Vera shouted at Ryzhik:
- What have you done, you are not a wild animal, but a domestic, tame one!
Ryzhik no longer ran around the table, did not roll on the door, did not unclench Vera's fist. He stocked up from morning to evening. He sees a piece of bread - he grabs it, he sees seeds - he fills his full cheeks, and he hid everything.
Ginger and the guests put seeds in reserve in their pockets.
No one knew why Ryzhik was stockpiling.
And then my father’s friend from the Siberian taiga came and told me that pine nuts did not grow in the taiga, and the birds flew away over the mountain ranges, and the squirrels gathered in countless flocks and followed the birds, and even hungry bears did not lie down in dens for the winter.
Vera looked at Ryzhik and said:
- You are not a tame animal, but a wild one! It's just not clear how Ryzhik found out that there was famine in the taiga.
Gennady Snegirev
BOBRENOK
In the spring, the snow melted quickly, the water rose and flooded the beaver hut.
The beavers dragged the beaver cubs onto dry leaves, but the water got even higher, and the beaver cubs had to spread out in different directions.
The smallest beaver was exhausted and began to sink.
I noticed him and pulled him out of the water. I thought it was a water rat, and then I see a tail with a spatula, and I guessed that it was a beaver.
At home, he cleaned and dried for a long time, then he found a broom behind the stove, sat down on his hind legs, took a twig from the broom with his front paws and began to gnaw it.
After eating, the beaver collected all the sticks and leaves, tucked it under him and fell asleep.
I listened to how a beaver sniffles in a dream. "Here, - I think, - what a calm animal - you can leave him alone, nothing will happen!"
He locked the beaver in the hut and went into the forest. All night I wandered through the forest with a gun, and in the morning I returned home, opened the door, and ...
What is it? It's like I'm in a carpentry workshop!
White shavings are scattered all over the floor, and a thin, thin leg near the table: a beaver gnawed it from all sides. And he hid behind the stove.
The water subsided overnight. I put the beaver in a bag and quickly carried it to the river.
Since I met a tree felled by beavers in the forest, I immediately remember the beaver that gnawed my table.
I had a friend who was a hunter. And once he got ready to hunt and asked me:
What will you bring? Talk, I'll bring it.
I thought: “Look, brags! I'll come up with something smarter, ”and said:
Bring me a live wolf. That's what!
The friend thought for a moment and said, looking at the floor:
And I thought: “That's it! How I cut you! Don't brag."
Two years have passed. I forgot about our conversation. And once I come home, and in the hallway they say to me:
They brought you a wolf. Someone came and asked you. “He is a wolf,” he says, “he asked, so pass it on.” And to the door.
I, without taking off my hat, shout:
Where, where is he? Where is the wolf?
You are locked in a room.
I was young, and it seemed to me ashamed to ask how he was sitting there: bound or just on a rope. They think I'm bullshitting. And I myself think: “Maybe he walks around the room as he wants - in freedom?”
And I was ashamed to be a coward. He took a deep breath and ran into his room. I thought: “Immediately he will not rush at me, and then ... then somehow ...” But my heart was beating strongly. With quick eyes, I looked around the room - no wolf. I was already angry - they cheated, which means they were joking - when I suddenly heard that something was tossing and turning under the chair. I bent down cautiously, looked cautiously, and saw a big-headed puppy.
I say here - I saw a puppy, but it was immediately clear that this was not a dog puppy. I realized that I was a wolf cub, and I was terribly happy: I will tame it, and I will have a tame wolf.
The hunter did not cheat, well done! Bring me a live wolf.
I approached cautiously. The wolf cub stood on all four paws and alerted. I saw him: what a freak he was! It almost entirely consisted of a head - as if a muzzle on four legs, and this muzzle consisted entirely of a mouth, and a mouth of teeth. He bared his teeth at me, and I saw that his mouth was full of teeth, white and sharp as nails. The body was small, with sparse brown hair, like stubble, and a rat's tail at the back.
“After all, wolves are gray ... And then, puppies are always pretty, and this is some kind of rubbish: one head and a tail. Maybe not a wolf cub at all, but just something for a laugh. The hunter inflated, that's why he ran away right away.
I looked at the puppy, and he backed under the bed. But at that moment my mother came in, sat down by the bed and called:
Volchenka! Volchenka!
I look - the wolf cub crawled out, and the mother picked it up in her arms and stroked it - such a monster! It turns out that she had already given him milk twice from a saucer, and he immediately fell in love with her. It smelled of a pungent animal smell. He smacked and poked his muzzle under his mother's arm. Mother says:
If you want to keep it, then you need to wash it, otherwise it will stink from it all over the house.
And took him to the kitchen. When I went out into the dining room, everyone laughed that I rushed into the room like a hero, as if there was a terrible beast, and there was a puppy. In the kitchen, the mother washed the wolf cub with green soap and warm water, and he stood quietly in the trough and licked her hands.
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The world of human discoveries is completely immeasurable - from the thorn of a simple burdock clinging to a sleeve, to the hot geyser of Kamchatka, which gives the air of this country a special comfort and at the same time some kind of mystery. It is difficult to convey the feeling of peace in the empty chamber of the Kamchatka hut, when right there, behind the tinkling thin glass, behind the slightly misted window, the end of the earth rumbles - the Pacific Ocean.
He is unheard of rich, this region and this world, and even its last edge. And I am sure that separate books, studies, fairy tales can be written about the burdock thorn, while experiencing many lively and funny incidents and stories.
Anyone who is tempted to write such a book, let him sit down at the table and write it without delay. In five to ten years it will already be gathered interesting literature, an extraordinary library full of rare observations and knowledge - from the noise of hail on a plank roof (by the way, you can’t confuse it with anything) to a pink rainbow barely outlined over Ayu-Dag - a harbinger of rains that do not fall to the ground, but fly away from the ground. Recently, comparatively, I saw such a pink rainbow and for a very long time could not understand what it was.
Knowledge is a bunch of unexpected and majestic poetry all the time. We must become catchers and keepers of this fleeting poetry of nature, which beautifies the world and gives it meaning.
Nature does not choose or appoint her singers and minstrels. It is devoid of stupid and impudent human arrogance. Singers come to nature themselves, their ranks do not dry out from Homer to Lucretius, from Jules Verne to the poet Zabolotsky, from Charles Darwin to the scientist Obruchev.
Recently, another wonderful, in my opinion, work by Gennady Snegirev, which will soon be released as a separate book, has been added to the wonderful galaxy of things about nature.
Snegirev is a very sharp-sighted writer. He has the secret of a fresh, almost youthful perception of life. Not a single poetic feature from the life of nature, from the life of the taiga, animals, birds and plants escapes him. Therefore, Snegirev's stories, written by experienced, kind and common man, contain a lot of knowledge and observations - always new and genuine - in other words, they are cognitive in the broadest sense of the word.
In essence, many of Snegirev's stories are closer to poetry than to prose - to pure, concise poetry that infects the reader with love for his native country and nature in all its manifestations, both small and large.
Absolutely real and accurate things in Snegirev's stories are sometimes perceived as a fairy tale, and Snegirev himself as a guide through a wonderful country, whose name is Russia.
These tales will certainly cause joyful excitement among our naturalists, true friends of animals. And if animals - and deer, and bears, and arctic foxes, and seals - would understand the human language, then the appearance of this book would be a great holiday for all animals that are cruelly and sometimes senselessly destroyed - there is so much tender love for these animals in the book, care for them, unusually subtle understanding and knowledge of their entire joyless life.
Books, endowing us with knowledge and love for nature, teach us to treat it as a living creature close to us, encourage us to indignantly stop people who destroy the last beautiful and helpless inhabitants of the Earth.
Judging by many data, it is precisely this topic that should now occupy a very large place in our literature, in our journals. We all have read and know the magnificent essays in defense of nature, the most talented essay by Yuri Kazakov about Solovki, the stories of Lev Krivenko and Yuri Kuranov.
I think that it is especially not necessary to even call on people to write about this - about nature, and about our Motherland, and about all its corners - there is no need to especially call on them, because people themselves will begin to write, because the topic The protection of nature is now, I would say, a national necessity.
Konstantin Paustovsky
Aral
I heard that there are so many fish in the Aral Sea that if you throw a boot to the bottom and then pull it out, the boot will fill up with gobies.
The train is racing in the desert. And on the right are dunes and on the left. Brown thorns grow on the dunes, and large, like umbrellas, and round, like plush pillows, move in the wind, crawl ...
These are not thorns, but camel humps. A herd of camels is grazing. In winter, they emaciated, the tops of the humps hung to one side and swayed. The desert is brown, and the wool of the camel is brown, and the saxaul is brown from afar.
Poppies bloom between the sleepers on thin stalks. The train rushes over them - the poppies pressed to the ground. The last car will rush - they raised their heads again.
Only the petals torn off by the whirlwind slowly fall onto the rails.
The black dog stopped, sniffed the petal and ... without taking a breath, rushed to catch up with the train.
This black dog is Tazy's greyhound, she runs after the train, keeping up.
Someone threw a bone through the window, oiled paper flashed. On the fly, she grabbed and ate them Tazy.
Passengers look out the window, point at the black dog with their fingers:
- Look, what a skinny dog!
They do not know that the Tazy greyhound with a toned belly and thin legs will run tens of kilometers in the desert after a saiga antelope and not get tired.
Among the yellow sands, the Aral Sea flashed, blue as a kingfisher's feather.
At the station, boys sell bundles of smoked bream. The window was opened, immediately smelled of fish.
Camels stand in the yards in Aralsk. Above the clay fences, only camel heads and the tops of humps are visible. Camel looks down and chews gum. If there is a camel behind the clay wall, the camel may spit, do not come close. Here they carry saxaul for firewood on camels.
Behind Aral there is a fishing camp on the shore. Camels, stepping heavily, pull the seine. Water boils in a cauldron above the fire. Soon there will be an ear from sea carp, huge. You can hardly lift one carp, and there are a hundred of them in a net, only camels can pull so much.
When the fish soup was eaten, one fisherman told how he met a tiger in the reed jungle in the Amu Darya delta:
The boat poked at the shore, I look, it lies on the shore and looks at me, does not move, only the tip of the tail plays. I raised my hat on my head out of fear. I wanted to push the boat away with the sixth - it was scary.
So he was dumbfounded, did not move until the boat was carried away in the rapids. And I don’t need catfish - just go home as soon as possible ... Since then, without a gun, I don’t go fishing in the reeds!
And the catfish in the Amu Darya are huge. The fisherman drags him on his back, and the tail of the catfish drags in the dust. Such a monster wild ducks swallows.
On the shore, under the stones, scorpions sit, and even in the sand I found a petrified shell, it glistens, it casts blue. This shell is millions of years old. Previously, a very long time ago, there was a sea in the place of the desert. If you look, you'll find shark teeth. Each tooth is the size of a palm. Brown, sharp and serrated along the edges, like a saw.
In the evening, over the desert, in the place where the sun went out, a green beam lit up. The black sand tornado spun like a column. Getting closer, getting closer. When the camels saw this pillar, they immediately lay down. And then it will fly, spin, lift and throw to the ground.
Everything happens in the desert.
Wild beast
Vera had a baby squirrel. His name was Ryzhik. He ran around the room, climbed on the lampshade, sniffed at the plates on the table, climbed up his back, sat on Vera's shoulder and unclenched Vera's fist with his claws - he was looking for nuts. Ryzhik was tame and obedient.
But once on New Year's Eve, Vera hung toys on the tree, and nuts, and sweets, and as soon as she left the room, she wanted to bring candles, Ryzhik jumped onto the tree, grabbed one nut, and hid it in a galosh. The second nut was placed under the pillow. The third nut was immediately cracked...
Vera entered the room, but there was not a single nut on the tree, only silver pieces of paper were lying on the floor.
Vera shouted at Ryzhik:
- What have you done, you are not a wild animal, but a domestic, manual one! Ryzhik no longer ran around the table, did not roll on the door, did not unclench Vera's fist. He stocked up from morning to evening. He sees a piece of bread - he grabs it, he sees seeds - he fills full cheeks and hides everything.
Dad began to put on his coat - in his pocket was an apple and a cracker. He put on his hat - the seeds fell on the floor.
Ginger and the guests put seeds in reserve in their pockets. No one knew why Ryzhik was stockpiling. And then my father’s friend from the Siberian taiga came and told me that pine nuts did not grow in the taiga, and the birds flew away over the mountain ranges, and the squirrels gathered in countless flocks and followed the birds, and even hungry bears did not lie down in dens for the winter.
Vera looked at Ryzhik and said:
- You are not a tame animal, but a wild one!
It's just not clear how Ryzhik found out that there was famine in the taiga.
Zhulka
There is sand around the station, and pine trees grow on the sand. The road here turns sharply to the north, and the engine always takes off unexpectedly from behind the hills.
Trains are waiting for oilers on duty.
But before everyone else, the dog Zhulka comes out to meet him. She sits on the sand and listens. Here the rails begin to hum, then tap. The bug runs off to the side.
The attendant looks at Zhulka. He coughs and straightens his red cap, and the oilers tinkle their oil cans.
If the train comes from the north, Zhulka hides: in the northern trains people go on vacation. The sailors jump out of the wagons with loud laughter and try to drag Zhulka to them. Zhulka is uncomfortable: she wags her tail, flattens her ears and growls softly.
Zhulka really wants to eat. Chewing around, and smells delicious. Zhulka is worried - the locomotive has already hummed, but she has not been given anything yet. Often Zhulka was brought so far away that she ran home all day.
She ran past the houses where the switchmen live. They waved their flags goodbye to her. Then a big black dog chased after her. In the forest, the girl grazed a goat and two kids. The kids played on the rails and did not obey the girl. After all, they can be crushed, Zhulka showed them her teeth and growled, and the stupid goat wanted to butt her.
But the worst thing was to cross the bridge. In the middle stood a soldier with a gun. He guarded the bridge. Zhulka came closer to the soldier and began to suck up: she tucked her tail and crawled up to him on her belly. The soldier angrily stamped his foot on her. And Zhulka without looking back ran to her station.
"No," she thought, "I will never approach a train again." But soon Zhulka forgot all this and began to beg again. Once she was taken very far away, and she did not return back.
Gennady Snegirev
Gennady Yakovlevich Snegirev
Smart Porcupine (compilation)
- Mom aired the room, and Borka, the starling, flew out the window and flew into the forest. Now it will freeze at night!Why were you silent before?
- I was afraid, - she says, - that you would catch Borka and take it for yourself.
Together with the girl, we began to look for Borka. It is necessary to hurry: it has already become dark, and at night the owl will eat Borka. The girl went one way and I went the other. I examine each tree, there is no Borka anywhere. I wanted to go back, suddenly I heard a girl screaming: “I found it, I found it!” I run up to her - she stands near the Christmas tree and points up:
- There he is! Freeze, poor guy.
And a starling sits on a branch, fluffed out its feathers and looks at the girl with one eye.
The girl calls him
- Borya, come to me, good one!
And Borya just clung to the Christmas tree and does not want to go. Then I climbed up the tree to catch him.
He just reached the starling, wanted to grab it, but the starling flew over to the girl's shoulder. She was delighted, hid it under her coat.
“And then,” he says, “by the time I bring it home, it will freeze.
We went home. It was getting dark, and the lights were on in the houses. I ask the girl:
- How long have you had a starling?
- For a long time.
And she walks quickly, afraid that the starling under the coat will freeze. I follow the girl, I try to keep up.
We came to her house, the girl said goodbye to me.
“Goodbye,” she just told me.
I looked at her for a long time, while she was cleaning snow boots on the porch, waiting for the girl to tell me something else. The girl left and closed the door behind her.
Guinea pig
Behind our garden is a fence. Who lives there, I did not know before. Just recently found out. I caught grasshoppers in the grass, I look - the eye from the hole in the fence is looking at me.
- Who are you? I ask.
And the eye is silent and keeps looking, spying on me. Looked, looked, and then said:
- I have a guinea pig!
It became interesting to me: I know a simple pig, but I have never seen a sea pig.
“I have,” I say, “the hedgehog was alive. Why a guinea pig?
“I don't know,” he says. She must be in the sea used to live. I put her in a trough, but she is afraid of water, escaped and ran under the table!
I wanted to see a guinea pig.
“And what,” I say, “is your name?”
- Seryozha. How about you?
We made friends with him. Seryozha ran after the guinea pig, I look through the hole for him.
He was gone for a long time. Seryozha came out of the house, carrying some kind of red rat in his hands.
“Here,” she says, “she didn’t want to go, she will have children soon: and she doesn’t like to be touched on her stomach, growls!”
- And where is her piglet?
Seryozha was surprised:
- What piglet?
- Like what? All pigs have a snout on their nose!
- No, when we bought her, she didn’t have a patch.
I began to ask Seryozha what he feeds the guinea pig.
“She,” she says, “loves carrots, but she also drinks milk.”
Seryozha did not have time to tell me everything, he was called home.
The next day I walked near the fence and looked through the hole: I thought Seryozha would come out, take out the pig. And he never came out. It was raining, and, probably, my mother did not let him in. I began to walk in the garden, I look - under the tree something red lies in the grass.
I came closer, and this is Seryozha the guinea pig. I was delighted, but I don’t understand how she got into our garden. I began to inspect the fence, and there was a hole below. The pig must have crawled through that hole. I took her in my hands, she does not bite, she only sniffs her fingers and sighs. All wet. I brought the pig home. I searched and searched for a carrot, but did not find it. He gave her a cabbage stalk, she ate the stalk and fell asleep under the bed on the rug.
I sit on the floor, look at her and think:
“What if Seryozha finds out who has the pig? No, she won’t find out: I won’t take her out into the street!”
I went out onto the porch, I hear a car rumbles somewhere nearby. I went up to the fence, looked into the hole, and it was in Seryozha’s yard that a truck was standing, things were being loaded onto it. Seryozha fumbles with a stick under the porch - probably looking for a guinea pig. Serezha's mother put pillows in the car and says:
- Seryozha! Get your coat on, let's go!
Seryozha cried:
“No, I won’t go until I find a pig!” She will have children soon, she probably hid under the house!
I felt sorry for Seryozha, I called him to the fence.
“Seryozha,” I say, “who are you looking for?”
