30'

Spring meetings

Chapter Six

A year has passed since the sudden death of Oleg Menshikov. The shock of the tragic event passed, life went on. Menshikov's position was taken by another specialist, through the efforts of Oleg's wife Marina, in their house, day after day, they gradually learned to live without a father. Pavel supported her in everything. Son. The eldest of the children. From an early age he heard from Oleg:

- Behind our backs, mind you, son, three girls. Mom and your sisters. We must make them happy. We are responsible for them.

Now he was the only man in the house. At seventeen. And he tried. Only his mother knew how it was given to him. Like after reading books at nightsisters, all the work in the house and in the yard has been redone, homework has been done, he is crying, tightly covered with a blanket. Marina pretended not to hear his sobs. She knew that it was not easy for a boy to become a man. There is nothing to comfort him, his father cannot be returned, and words at such a moment are meaningless. She thought about herself least of all. Children. They must have a happy childhood. Pavel was on the verge of adulthood. He is the hardest of all, but he must cope. The main thing is to be with him. His decision after school to go to work in the forestry, where he spent his childhood, she took for granted. Not about this, of course, they dreamed with Oleg. They wanted their son to get a good education, but life crossed out plans.

- Good. Dad would approve. But only on condition that you will study in absentia. If later you want to switch to full-time, that's fine too.

Everything is everyday. No external strain. Such was the conversation with Yuri Tretyakov.

I know it's hard to lose loved ones. You know, I didn't understand it from other people's words. But you have to live. Do what your father would like. If you decide to go to school, I will help. My pension is good, army, but the taiga has nowhere to spend it, and I need very little. So do not forget: no one will replace your father. Yes, this is not necessary. But you are not alone. I will always be there.

Since then, Pavel only managed to visit Tretyakov a few times in the house, which he always considered his own. Butakov's decision to go there alone, without him, was not just a surprise. The young man, almost a teenager, felt as if he had been robbed of something that belonged only to him. Another connection with his father was broken. Butakov, absorbed in his striving for the goal, did not notice his feelings, did not hear the forester's cautious warning:

- It is not easy to establish relations with Tretyakov, Pavel would help you with this. They mean a lot to each other.

Matvey Vlasovich will reproach himself more than once for this: for the fact that, leaving his hunting lodge, he never even looked back at Pavel. And he looked after him for a long time. Until the moment when the figure of the skier completely disappeared into the morning twilight.

What made the young man, not having received news of Butakov's meeting with Tretyakov, follow in his footsteps?

Resentment, stupid, almost childish, the desire to prove one's worth ... or maybe something else that is called briefly - youthful maximalism? He remembered only one thing: this strange old man had promised him to inform him of his arrival at the taiga house. And he didn't get the news. This means only one thing: he didn’t make it, he’s in trouble, you need help. That's what a father would do. So will he. I didn't think for a long time. Everything you need for a hike in the taiga is always at hand. The weather forecast for the day is good, but the fact that the wind is expected to increase at night, snow - so before that time it will already be in place. Together with Butakov. The solution is quick and... wrong.

But that didn't matter anymore. He moved forward with the same stubbornness with which, quite recently, the one whom he stubbornly called "the old man" in his thoughts walked along this road.

Pavel easily "read" the traces of Matvey Vlasovich on the route. Even from a distance I noticed a scree in place of a narrow path along a stone wall. I also figured out how Butakov managed to get out of this situation.

"Wow! Yes, he is an acrobat. At such an age! Not every young person will be able to do such a trick to pull himself out from under a cliff. I wonder what he caught on the root?

He himself knew how to get around the dangerous area. Turn right a little, climb over a few boulders and after five hundred meters you will again go on the route. Yes, it will take time, but it will eliminate the risk. So they walked with their father and Tretyakov after long rains, when the mountain paths became dangerous.

The blizzard caught the traveler at the most inopportune moment. The shelters that the three of them had created along the route were left behind. Ahead is a rather long stretch of road through open country. The snow was getting thicker and visibility was dropping. And with such weather, after a short time it will become completely dark. And, of course, I remembered my father's advice: “If you are forced to spend the night in the forest, get ready for this before dark. Don't wait for the night. It's risky."

But it's easy to say - prepare the place. He was not here. Rocky slope, not a single boulder, not a tree, not even snow was around. I had to quicken my pace to get to the woods faster. This increased the risk of injury on icy slippery rocks. Under normal circumstances, this would be unjustified. But now the choice is small. Accommodation for the night in a strong wind, in the dark, also promised a lot of problems. Managed to reduce the time. Even on the way, the young man remembered a ridge of stones not far from the forest. She was away from the route, but it is easiest to equip a shelter there. Rocks in two human heights will protect from the wind from two sides. And he will be able to lay out the third from snow blocks. Pavel tried not to think of anything else, except for the need to quickly equip a lodging for the night. Especially carefully drove away thoughts about his message to the forester. In it he

“If only he didn’t panic, didn’t think of calling his mother. Although she knows that I am at home in the taiga, she can get worried, but she has enough without it. ”

Finally reaching the forest, Pavel did not hesitate. Throwing off his backpack, wielding a snowshoe, he raked a place for a fire almost to the very ground. He took out a large hunting knife from its scabbard, chopped spruce branches with it, cut several blocks in a nearby snowdrift. Already almost in the dark kindled a fire. By this time the wind was already raging with might and main, and the snow intensified. But now it was no longer scary. It became almost cozy and much warmer in the makeshift cave. Having laid the spruce branches on the ground, the young man returned to the forest, managed to break a couple more trunks of dry trees. They succumbed easily. Now the firewood should have been enough until the morning. It remains only to pull out a small kettle from the backpack, stuff it to capacity with snow and hang it over the fire. After repeating the procedure twice, he was convinced that the melt water would be enough for tea. He plucked a twig from a fir tree and sent it to the teapot. The young and well-trained boy did not feel particularly tired, but he could not completely get rid of disturbing thoughts. With difficulty, he forced himself to sit down, take a breath.

***

It was also alarming in the taiga house. Matvey Vlasovich could not find a place for himself. He tried hard to figure out why this Paul needed to come here. Without even discussing it with the boss, not paying attention to the approaching bad weather. He recalled the forester with an unkind word.

“Obviously he is far from Oleg Menshikov. He would not allow such a situation not only with his son, but with any of his employees.

Butakov's concern was also transferred to Grozny and Altai. They sat next to him and watched him intently, as if they were also trying to understand what was happening, whether their help was needed. Matvey Vlasovich did not notice anything. Tired of rushing around the room, he sat down at the table, put his hands on it with clenched fists, plunged into his thoughts.

Thoughts were interrupted by the dogs. They suddenly stood up, as if on cue, and went to the door. Silently. Butakov himself became alert. Looked out the window. It seemed to him that it brightened outside. He put on his jacket and left the house. Strange, but there was a feeling that somewhere on the roof a searchlight turned on. The man walked a few steps away from the porch, looked up and froze in amazement. One of the stones on the roof, which, as it seemed to him, were needed so that a strong wind would not tear it off, turned into a source of light. Moreover, its bright beam pulsed.

- What the hell? What is this, a lighthouse? Some kind of signal?

Still in disbelief, he tried to read it like Morse code. But no. Despite the obvious rhythm, it did not correspond to the familiar signal for help. For several minutes Butakov watched the luminous stone in fascination.

- Yes, he is also directed in one direction, to where Tretyakov had gone almost an hour ago, - these words spoken aloud partly brought him back to reality.

He tried to reason rationally. If this signal is directed somewhere, then perhaps a response will follow.

Ignoring the wind, holding his hat with both hands, Matvey Vlasovich struggled to see at least something through the veil of snow. But unsuccessfully. Hands numb in the icy wind reminded of themselves.

- It's useless, what can be considered here. Altai, Grozny - to the house! Follow me,” he called to the dogs.

But for the first time they did not respond to the command. Standing nearby, peered where the beam of a strange beacon hit. The man was about to repeat the command, but they suddenly barked. In the distance, in the very depths of the taiga, a spot of light appeared. It got brighter. The dogs suddenly calmed down, fell silent, moved to the door. Standing next to her, they waited for the person to follow them.

“Well, you know better what's going on here. It’s only a pity that you can’t enlighten me, ”Butakov, still not quite recovered, muttered, let the dogs into the house and went in himself. Taking a breath from what he saw, he remembered Tretyakov's homemade map. Not only the terrain around the house was marked on it, but also numerous signs. Laying it out on the table, putting on a headlamp, Matvey Vlasovich tried to examine all the details. The house was marked with the letter "D". But all the other icons had to be guessed. Only gradually the map became clearer. Sources of drinking water were found not only near the house, but throughout the territory. The path to the birch grove behind the pass was also marked. Some badges were repeated throughout the territory. And its size was vast. The route from the forestry to the river crossing, already known to Butakov, was also marked on it. To his surprise, Matvey Vlasovich discovered his own lodge. The circled number 3 appeared to have been applied recently.

“Strange, so he knew me. But he didn't mention it. And why did he mark my hut? Nearby is the winter hut of the forestry, but it is not here. Weird. But for now, it doesn't matter. If there are 3, then there are the first two in this row. Let's look"

First, a unit was found. In the depths of the taiga, quite far from home. Butakov was led to it by a straight dotted line. It began with a red star above the letter "D", and ended with an arrow above the number "1". Only after some time Butakov found the place marked as "2". Hospital in the village where his grandson was rescued.

Throwing a pencil on the table in surprise, swearing loudly, he jumped up, strode around the room trying to calm down. Altai whimpered softly, moved away from him to Grozny, sat down next to him, and the two of them watched the man warily. No matter how immersed in his thoughts Matvey Vlasovich, he could not help but notice their reaction.

- Everything is fine. I just can't figure out what's going on here? What can your master know about me? What do these three numbers mean? Well, there is some place in the taiga. The one at number one. Maybe he has a hunting hut there or something. But why does he need a hospital in the village and my winter hut? That's what nonsense. I came to him to get answers, and he asked me even more riddles.

The dogs listened to the man, gradually calmed down, as did he himself. In the end it all faded into the background. The main thing is that everything is in order with Paul.

Much time has passed since the departure of Tretyakov. The anticipation of his return was becoming unbearable. The silence in the house was interrupted by the clanging of an empty metal bowl of Altai. The dog tried in vain to find the remains of food in it. Butakov came to his senses:

- Well, you, old man, have gone completely mad. Don't eat yourself, okay, but why are you starving the dogs?

Only then Matvey Vlasovich remembered that the stove had long been extinguished. There is no water or food in the house. The usual chores took quite a long time. Grabbing a large leather bucket, he went to the stream. Quite skillfully I threw it off the cliff so that I managed to fill it almost to the top the first time, and pull it out with the help of a long rope, almost without spilling. Fired up the oven. I also found a glacier where the owner kept meat, several bird carcasses. From the pantry he brought flour and cereals. Chowder for dogs was prepared quickly. After cooling it outside, I filled their bowls. The smell of food made his own stomach ache. Hastily chewed cheese, dried meat. By this time, the firewood in the Russian stove burned out. Having put the meat with roots in the pot, he put it closer to the stump. Let it stew more slowly, but the taste will remain. I baked cakes. He poured tea and went to the window. The blizzard was already raging. Darkness hid both the outlines of the slope and the mountain opposite. The bright beam emanating from the roof was too narrow to illuminate the surroundings, but it made its way far into the taiga. There, where something still flickered in response.

***

Pavel boiled water, poured it into a tin mug. Fir dyed it greenish and gave it a pleasant tart taste. The loaf of bread froze a little in the backpack, but the heat of the fire brought back the softness and aroma of fresh pastries. It remains to fry a little smoked lard and meat on skewers of hastily planed branches. The wind, meanwhile, seemed to subside, and the snow almost stopped. Needless to say, this made Paul very happy. On a clear night, the temperature could drop dramatically. So far, there was enough firewood for the fire, but it was still far from morning.

“No, we won’t risk it. Let the superfluous remain, than I will freeze.

The snowdrifts around his cave have grown noticeably. Drowning in them almost to the waist, the young man was forced to go a little deeper into the forest, where it was easier to approach the dried tree trunks. Passing a sprawling fir, he carelessly brushed off a mountain of snow from it. She fell with a rustle to the ground, and a frightened hare jumped out from under her with an arrow. He froze in place for a second, looking straight at the man, and then sped away. Paul himself did not immediately realize what had happened. Then he laughed, put two fingers in his mouth and whistled after him like a robber.

"Sorry, it's your own fault, you scared me." So we're even.

Time passed slowly. The assumption about the drop in temperature came true. Closer to midnight, the blizzard subsided completely, the sky cleared. There were stars on it. Pavel kept moving the rapidly burning logs closer to the center of the fire. Went to sleep. He got up, walked in circles, jumped. It shattered the dream. Not for long. When the sky in the east had already begun to lighten, the temperature dropped even lower, and Pavel dozed off. He didn't feel it. It seemed to him that the fire was still crackling, snow flakes gently falling to the ground. He slept and saw in a dream a hare running away from him, a father laughing with him ...

“Pavlik, Pavlik, wake up, wake up, son,” he heard the voice, but did not recognize it.

Meanwhile, the face of the father began to move away, to disappear. He tried to hold him back, pushing away the hands that were lifting him up, shaking him. Only when he felt the burning taste of some liquid in his mouth did Pavel begin to come to his senses, to realize what was happening.

“It hurts, it hurts,” he moaned, when Tretyakov began to massage his hands.

- Oh, it hurts, it's good. Come on, take another sip.

“I can’t feel my legs, my legs,” Pavel groaned.

A tall, unfamiliar man, bustling about near an extinct fire, removed Tretyakov.

- Let me try.

Yuri stepped aside and began filling the teapot with snow.

And the stranger unbuttoned his jacket, took off his mittens and, kneeling before the lying Pavel, stretched out his hands over him. Pavel felt warmth slowly spreading through his body. I wanted to sleep again. But the man said firmly:

- Don't sleep, you can't sleep until it's early. A little patience. You need to drink tea, then I will smear your hands and feet with ointment. Sleep at home.

The voice of the stranger calmed Pavel and at the same time invigorated him. Immediately after they massaged his legs and arms again, smearing some kind of ointment, he was able to stand up. But only for a short moment, and then he sank helplessly onto the spruce branches.

- Everything is OK. Lie down for a bit, we'll build a "flying carpet" for you, - Tretyakov, clearly cheered up, joked.

In half an hour the stretcher was ready. Having laid Paul on them, the men set off.

***

Long before the appearance of human figures on the horizon, the dogs sensed the return of their master. Rushed out of the house. Soon Butakov saw people walking towards the crossing. I took the binoculars. And it became clear that the third one was lying on a stretcher. Neither Tretyakov's partner, nor the one lying on a stretcher, could yet be seen. Fur hats and hoods were covered with frost, hiding their faces. Matvey Vlasovich, accompanied by Altai and the Terrible, went to meet them. Tretyakov, noticing the glare from the eyepiece of the binoculars, took off his hood, waved his shaggy mitten. Rather intuitively, Butakov understood that this was a sign of a safe return. Yesterday's and especially the night frost strengthened the ice, so we managed without safety poles and crossed the river without any problems. Within forty minutes they were at home. Only here Matvey Vlasovich recognized in a man the one with whom he met only once, but remember forever. It was Georgy Mikhailov. The donor whose blood saved his grandson. There was no time for amazement from an unexpected meeting, especially for questions. They laid Pavel on the bed, undressed him, examined his face, arms and legs. Apparently, help came just in time. The face was damaged the most. Nose and cheeks.

“He will heal before the wedding,” Butakov consoled, rather, to himself. Others have already been convinced of this before. But at the insistence of Mikhailov, the guy was completely undressed, rubbed with alcohol, smeared with ointment and changed into dry clothes. Having given him a strong broth from a cast-iron with meat, and then tea with honey, Georgy advised:

- And now sleep. Until morning. Eat well in the morning, sleep more, and... you'll be as good as new. Paul didn't have to be persuaded. A minute later he was asleep. Silent Altai perched on the bed next to him.

“Look, you know who needs it more now,” Butakov nodded at the dog.

“He remembers who his real master is, or rather the savior,” Tretyakov clarified, “but let’s not interfere with them.” Let's go to the bath.

Is it warm there, - Mikhailov asked, - or is it automatically heated by you?

- Do not doubt. Warm. I’ve been drowning it since morning,” Butakov answered for him.

We decided to postpone the trip to the steam room until the evening. George had to return. Where? Where is this house of his? This question was about to escape Butakov's tongue, but Tretyakov's expressive look stopped him.

From the detailed story of Yuri, Matvey Vlasovich learned what a misfortune had passed by that night.

Pavel fell asleep near a hot fire, its warmth would have been enough until the morning, but dry logs burned quickly, they had to be moved from time to time to the middle, to the fire. And without this, they simply went out, and soon the frost put out the coals. If the rescuers had been delayed for an hour, or maybe even for half an hour, everything would have been over.

— Where did you find it? How long did he have to get home?

- Very little. At the very edge of the forest. You should have remembered this place. Two kilometers in open country, and then larch and pine immediately stand as a wall. Between them there are many dead trees.

- It's really close.

Yes, there was not much left, but the fact that he decided to stop and spend the night there was right. In a snowstorm at night in the taiga it is easy to go astray. But it was impossible to sleep.

And where did he set the fire?

He deviated from our route by three hundred meters. You might not have noticed there are rocks. Low, but well protected from wind and snow.

- How did you find him all the same in such a snowstorm and in the dark? Did he leave a mark?

- Not. Here, too, his self-confidence failed him. He grew up in the taiga. Even as a preschooler, his father took him with him. Came here both in winter and summer. Even when the road was three times as long. And this one is familiar to him like this, for city children, the road to school. But he did not take into account that each of us can make a mistake or even an oversight. And this ... in the taiga, any mistake can cost a life.

Everyone was silent, everyone was worried about something that did not happen, but it was so possible.

“We have to go,” Mikhailov interrupted the pause, “don’t worry about Pavel. “He'll be all right. I'll leave some more ointment. I'll bring more next time.

Saying goodbye to him, Butakov could not resist emotions:

- It's time for you to be awarded the title of lifeguard. The second time I meet you, and the second time you save our guys. Maybe it's time for Gushchin to enlist you in the team?

“I don’t mind in principle, but let no one else need to be rescued in this area,” Mikhailov joked.

After seeing him off, the men looked after him for a long time. On the opposite bank, as if knowing this, George turned around, waved his hand, and almost immediately disappeared from sight.

Tretyakov stroked the Terrible, who again took his usual place under a canopy at the threshold, and hurried into the house. And Butakov was still standing, looking at the slope of the hill. Where Mikhailov had just passed, there were no traces left in the snow.