Communism -- Soviet Union; Mongolia -- Description and travel
I knew that the “ant-eaters” were very irritable and audacious and
quickly I prepared myself for both the defence and the charge. My
preparations were short. I rubbed off the ends of five of my cartridges,
thus making dum-dums out of them, a sufficiently intelligible argument
for so unwelcome a guest. Putting on my coat I went to the place where
I had first met the bear and where there were many ant-hills. I made
a detour of the whole mountain, looked in all the ravines but nowhere
found my caller. Disappointed and tired, I was approaching my shelter
quite off my guard when I suddenly discovered the king of the forest
himself just coming out of my lowly dwelling and sniffing all around the
entrance to it. I shot. The bullet pierced his side. He roared with pain
and anger and stood up on his hind legs. As the second bullet broke
one of these, he squatted down but immediately, dragging the leg and
endeavoring to stand upright, moved to attack me. Only the third bullet
in his breast stopped him. He weighed about two hundred to two hundred
fifty pounds, as near as I could guess, and was very tasty. He appeared
at his best in cutlets but only a little less wonderful in the Hamburg
steaks which I rolled and roasted on hot stones, watching them swell out
into great balls that were as light as the finest souffle omelettes we
used to have at the “Medved” in Petrograd. On this welcome addition to
my larder I lived from then until the ground dried out and the stream
ran down enough so that I could travel down along the river to the
country whither Ivan had directed me.
Ever traveling with the greatest precautions I made the journey down
along the river on foot, carrying from my winter quarters all my
household furniture and goods, wrapped up in the deerskin bag which I
formed by tying the legs together in an awkward knot; and thus laden
fording the small streams and wading through the swamps that lay across
my path. After fifty odd miles of this I came to the country called
Sifkova, where I found the cabin of a peasant named Tropoff, located
closest to the forest that came to be my natural environment. With him I
lived for a time.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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