My grandfather recently retired, and despite his age, he is quite young and active. He has been interested in hunting since his youth, six months ago he bought himself a small hunting house and moved there. The house is located on the Izhma River, it is quite far from civilization. The nearest city, 10-15 km from the house, is Sosnogorsk, in the Komi Republic.

The place is very beautiful and quiet, I myself am quite quiet and calm, and I really liked this place. I come to see him every holiday, and my grandfather always tells me interesting stories, which he visited while I was studying. He talked about the life of animals, about UFOs over forests, he even had to deal with mysticism. Sometimes I witnessed such stories. For example, how foxes fought among themselves, or how a UFO hovered in the sky and emitted various light emissions. Most of all I liked his mystical story that happened to him at the end of September. The story is more sad than scary.

As always, at 16:00 in the evening, he got ready for the hunt, taking everything he needed. He hunts mainly on his own bank and crosses the river very rarely. But that evening he decided to cross the river. Normal hunting, sitting, looking around. Suddenly he heard rustling sounds, looked around, and there was another hunter.

- Scared me, the site is a cat! - Grandfather screamed.

- Sorry, man. Hush, hush...,” the man answered in a whisper.

A conversation began between them. The man seemed quite friendly to my grandfather. Despite his youth, he turned out to be without “show-off” and did not show off. He had a dog named Trace, the dog was calm, the same as his grandfather’s interlocutor. The man often smiled and was eloquent in his conversation with his grandfather. Grandfather thought that they could be comrades. They talked all evening while walking through the forest. The sun was already disappearing behind the horizon, they came to their meeting place. Grandfather was the first to extend his hand to Seryoga (that was the name of this stranger), showing him his respect for him. Sergei continued to smile, the dog wagged its tail cheerfully. They agreed to meet the next day at the same place, at the same time. Sergei and Sled went deeper into the forest, and grandfather went home.

The next morning, the grandfather waited until evening to meet his friend again. I understand him, I think everyone has experienced this: they have just met a person, and he is already like a close friend to you. Evening came. He went to that place. Grandfather saw Sergei with the Trace and rushed towards them. The trace barked towards him, Sergei smiled, but there was something different in the smile, as if he himself was waiting for this meeting. They said hello and talked. And we went to the river to hunt ducks and other animals. Along the way, their friendship strengthened; without even noticing, they began to communicate on a first-name basis. They approached the river, looked around and saw a flock of ducks. They hid in the bushes, the Trace behaved quietly.

— Good dog, said the grandfather.

“My Trace is the best,” Seryoga hugged Trace.

Grandfather simply looked at them and smiled. They again focused the site on ducks. Everyone chose a goal for themselves. Shots were fired. The flock took off, leaving two ducks floating in the middle of the river. The trail followed the first, then the second.

— Good dog! - The grandfather said and gave him a piece of sausage.

The sun was disappearing behind the horizon again. They came to the place of their first meeting and were still chatting about this and that. Sergei was the first to extend his hand and said:

- Thank you, Vanyok (that’s my grandfather’s name) for everything. You have set me free, now I can go. I give you my Trace, please take care of him. And here, take my duck.

Grandfather did not understand what was happening. Sergei continued to smile, he said: “Bye!” and went deep into the forest. Trace remained sitting next to his grandfather, and they both looked towards the departing Sergei. Grandfather felt lonely in his soul. At night he dreamed of Sergei, a light going into a white space, Sergei thanked my grandfather again and left.

I often noticed and continue to notice how my grandfather, sitting next to Trace, sits and looks at this forest. And my grandfather told me this story, sitting in the same position next to the Trace and looking into the distance. But he does not lose heart. Life goes on!

02/12/2010 | Hunters at rest (scary stories)

We continue to introduce readers to the work of Evgeny Borodovitsyn, without resorting to proofreading the material. People have the right to express their opinion, even if it does not coincide with others. Moreover, it’s even interesting. Naturally, the author’s philological delights must be treated with full understanding that they do not at all coincide with scientific facts. But everyone tries to the best of their ability. I remember there are cases in history when Lomonosov noticed that the German academician derived the Russian “Kholmogory” from the German “Halmger”, and the Caucasian Alans derived Rus' from “Ruskolan”, that is, from the Alans. Brim derived “Rus” from the Varangian “ruotsu”, that is, “squad”, and entomologists... from the Ros River... In a word, “horseradish, broom and bucket”, so go ahead. So, Evgeniy also offers us a version about Egyptian-Mordovian roots. Not new. But it's funny. It turns out that we are all Mordovians. Ukrainians will not agree with this, I believe. They also have their own version. In a word: Hunting tales, part 4.

Before moving on to the next story, historical information is necessary, without which the text itself will be completely incomprehensible to most readers. I state everything through the mouths of the characters with my personal comments. The narrative should be taken as just another “tale”, and the details can be found on the Internet using the appropriate links. May historians and philologists forgive me...

The word Ramon (Ramen, see Wikipedia) comes from the Erzya language (the state language of Mordovia, the Finno-Ugric family of languages) and is translated as “I am Ra.” A common name for villages and hamlets in the forest zone of the European part of Russia.

The Erzya tribes spread east through the Slavic lands to the territory of Hungary and Scandinavia. They worshiped God Ra. This is where the name of Russia itself comes from. Ra se ya! Erzya is older than Kievan Rus.

The Russian battle cry “u-ra” came to us from the Erzya language. Mordva walked widely!

Ramon is located 40 km north of Voronezh. The name of the regional center does not come from the generally accepted, mechanical combination of the words raven and hedgehog, but from the word Voronzhets (fortune telling).

The region is a famous world center of magic and witchcraft. The largest anomalous zone. I know firsthand - my paternal grandmother is from Pchelniki, and all my relatives now live in Stupino (not to be confused with the city of the same name). Both settlements are located nearby, five miles from Ramon. Today these are villages, but before there were churches there, so they were once villages.

Huntsman Trifon (from a patron of the arts)

Here the doctor was already talking about huntsman Yegorych. I would like to tell you another, downright mystical story, which is very difficult to believe.

I was once visiting my distant relative Uncle Tryphon. He lived in Pchelniki. Around the forest. The villagers did not have their own land and from time immemorial they were fed by forests and apiaries. Hence the name. His house stood at the very edge of the forest, the garden turned into dense thickets of thorns. Not a house, but vegetables, berries and honey in one “bottle”. Yes, its own cow, and a domestic bird, and the gifts of the forest: wild apples and pears, blackberries, strawberries, stoneberries, blackberries, sloes. Mushrooms, hog and field birds, bunnies, wild boars and moose. There was always something to put on the table to eat, drink and snack. Not a cellar, but a self-assembled tablecloth! Fur coat and beaver boots. Riding horse.

He lived with Aunt Dusya alone - God did not give them children, they always avoided people for some reason, and therefore they always accepted me as their own son, they rejoiced at my every visit.

Uncle Trisha worked as a gamekeeper in a local nature reserve. And then we somehow started talking about attacks on his “possessions” by aligarchs and bosses of all stripes. “Yes, there was trouble with that,” the huntsman admitted.

Here, at one time, one secretary of the district party committee with Komsomol members often visited me. Drunkenness and debauchery. Where can you go - the bosses... Oh well, if only that was the case! We got into the habit of shooting animals at food depots, where I added rock salt to them and fed them during times of hunger in the winter, and kept records. From the observation tower they got into the habit of shooting animals, almost point-blank! But they all knew me personally, trusted me, and the wolves didn’t touch me. I had to - I spent the night with them in a hole next to the lair, with one ax in my belt.

And the legend about the Ramon Castle helped me, I told it to the “guests”, and invited me to visit the wolf monument in the forest at night. They are atheists - they don’t believe in devils. We agreed right away! We decided to go.

In the rainy summer of 1879, Evgenia Maximilianovna arrived in the small town of Ramon, the Duchess of Leuchtenberg on her father’s side, the Grand Duchess Romanova on her mother’s side (the niece of Alexander II from her sister Maria Nikolaevna), and the Princess of Oldenburg on her husband’s side. She accepted a wedding gift from her uncle, Emperor Alexander II.

In four years, a two-story castle in the Old English style was erected. A fountain sparkled in front of him, and in the backyard, in front of a stepped descent to the river, a copper statue of a fabulous fish was built, from whose mouth water flowed.

The princess was very fond of hunting. All her free time she rode horseback through the surrounding forests and valleys. There, apparently, I met a young, handsome werewolf, of which there are many around. And inhuman love flared up between them, and passion took possession of both.

Everything would have continued, but the princess’s husband suspected something was wrong and sent loyal people. They tracked down the sorcerer and the princess. They killed him with an aspen stake and burned his body. Before his death, the sorcerer cursed both the forest where he found his death and the castle. And from then on the princess lived alone until she was very old. And in memory of her love, she ordered a monument to the wolf to be erected at the site of her beloved’s death.

Villagers don’t go there; it’s a very difficult place, with strong dark energy. And everything happens there during the full moon. People are afraid. And only lovers feel great here both day and night. Only they discover the beauty of this truly fabulous place. Birds sing to them and the trills of nightingales are dedicated to them at night. This sorcerer's curse did not touch them.

Running (from Tryphon)

The next day, I persuaded the local guys, they took their mongrels with them, tied their muzzles so that they would not bark inadvertently, and hid around the appointed place at the appointed time. I'm with the manager. club, he asked to rent false fangs for his teeth from theater equipment, tried them on in front of the mirror, and he himself began to tremble with fear!

We arrived at the place, lit a fire, laid out a drink, a snack, and a drink. Komsomol members began to look closely at the nearest bushes in search of a bed of love in nature. And I gave a prearranged signal to my accomplices.

The guests saw the flickering of the green eyes of the tethered mongrels glowing in the light of the fire and heard the directly inhuman howl of their owners. “Well, now let’s see who this brought us for dinner,” one of them growled in a bass voice, using an empty rusty bucket instead of a loudspeaker. And the ghouls, for whom the already well-fed company undoubtedly took them, began to approach the fire from all sides with their arms outstretched forward, their steps slow, as in a nightmare. The revelers rushed towards me in fear. And here I am with fangs and a mysterious Mona Lisa smile on my face...

I even felt sorry for them as a human being. How they rushed! To my hut. No one slept a wink until the morning, and early on there was no trace of them! So, little by little, the huntsman finished his story and scared everyone away.

Castle (from the Duma member)

Sorry to interrupt, but I also heard about the Ramona castle “on my own line.” Architectural monument of federal significance. It is currently under restoration. It's been restored for about 30 years. The administration and the regional Duma are afraid to resolve this issue. Whoever tries, a curse immediately begins to affect him and his loved ones. Restorers and builders are scattering in a week! And therefore the authorities “sleep and see” - who would shake him off! They even announced a competition for long-term rental, but they still couldn’t get it installed. There are no hunters!

Recognized psychics and physicists have proven that the castle is permeated by energy fountains that mercilessly influence the psyche of normal people. They also suspect that this is a portal to other dimensions. It’s not for nothing that Ramoni’s coat of arms depicts a haunted castle...

Excursion (from the doctor)

But I was also in the Ramona castle! Specialists came to us from Germany to install new equipment. And their plan included a mandatory visit to the palace - the Germans honor their history. So I was sent with them.

I will say right away that this trip left me with indelible impressions. The castle stands on a high hill, from which there is a view of the blue ribbon of the Voronezh River, the dark forest of the reserve, a sugar factory converted by the Princess of Oldenburg into a candy factory, the products of which were well known in Europe, and the old pier built by Peter I at the founding of the Russian Black Sea Fleet Empire (at the end of the 17th and beginning of the 18th centuries there was a shipyard here). Here, by the way, the famous polar navigator V. Bering received command of the warship “Taimolar” in 1711. They say that Y. Longo was initiated here as a sorcerer; the inventor of the three-ruler S. Mosin, the poet and philosopher of Pushkin’s era D. Venevitinov and many other famous people in Russia and abroad are from here.

One of the entrance gate towers is decorated with chimes from the Swiss company Winter. The castle itself is made of red brick, with meter-thick walls, and trimmed with white brick. The author of the project is unknown.

The secrets of water supply to the fountain, heating system and acoustics have not yet been solved by modern engineers and scientists! A truly asymmetrical English-style haunted castle. Mice and rats don’t live there, flies die. No food can lure a cat or dog there! Photo and video equipment fails. Nightmare place...

Fairy tale (from a patron)

Yeahhhh... Well, guys, it was all a saying, now listen to the fairy tale itself - the story that happened to me in those places. And believe it or not.

I listened to Uncle Tryphon and laughed at the unlucky atheists. “What’s so funny about that,” he suddenly said and exchanged glances with Aunt Dusya, who was sitting near the stove and carefully listening to our every word. And it seemed to me that for a moment both of their fangs flashed. I didn’t attach any importance to it then, it seemed, they say. But in vain...

“You are all heroes, but it will come down to it,” you scurry without looking back out of fear. Well, today there is a full moon. As if to order,” he squinted, “let’s go, we’ll go, it’s not far from here.” And he began to get ready, without waiting for my consent. I had no choice but to follow his example, although my inner voice simply screamed, warning me against the dangers of this undertaking.

Then everything was like a nightmare in reality. When we arrived, we were immediately surrounded by a pack of wolves. One such hefty beast came towards me, growling, but then an old she-wolf came out and hit the ground. Look, this is Aunt Dusya in person! “You can’t touch him,” she smiled. He is our family and tribe.” Here everyone took on human form. A young girl, a real beauty, came up to me, took my hand and led me along. Nobody paid any attention to us. They behaved as if they were at an ordinary gathering in the village.

She led me to the fire, like on Ivan Kupala, jumped over the fire, and beckoningly called me to her. I jumped after him, landing on all fours in the form of a wolf - this is the ritual of turning a “new guy,” for some reason I immediately guessed. Unusual feelings washed over me. And the most important of them is an unearthly passion for the forest beauty.

I won’t describe how we loved each other all night long, both in human and wolf guise, hunted hares, tore them apart with fangs and quenched our hunger, greedily grabbing warm pieces of meat, swallowing hot blood that had not yet caked. The forest carried far away the roars and howls of a young she-wolf enraged by the caresses of a male, the heartbreaking moans and screams of a young girl at the peaks of irrepressible passion...

In the morning she led me to the huntsman's hut. Kissed me. “I will wait for you in our dimension for exactly 5 human years,” she said goodbye and disappeared, dissolving into the thickets.

The next day I woke up when the owners were already busy with the housework. The aroma of fresh apple pies wafted through the hut. I'll dream about something like this! And I wasn’t surprised even at the sight of dried blood on my lips and cheeks; even then my gums often bled. The shoulders and back were scratched. Nevermind, I whistled. “Well, you’re good to go to sleep,” Uncle Tryfon laughed as he entered the hut, “I passed out right at the table, they barely dragged you to the bed.” Well, I definitely dreamed it, and all doubts completely left me. It’s all the liqueurs and tinctures that are to blame. You need to drink less, you need to drink less, - as always in such cases, I recited out loud and laughed out loud!

It was too early to laugh. From that time on, my beauty maiden began to appear to me in a dream during the full moon and called me to her. And one day she showed up at the wrong time! She fell to her knees: the hunters had caught her girl and asked to be rescued. I went and found out. Found a wolf cub. When he saw me, he immediately rushed into my arms! The fellow hunters were surprised, but gave the puppy away. I took him to Uncle Tryphon, who told him not to worry and promised to give him a home. And the girl appeared then for the last time and gave me this little ring for my little finger. She punished: “What trouble will happen, take off the ring and put it on your other hand.”

With these words, the philanthropist took from his hand an amazingly beautiful ring made of a metal unknown to jewelers with an emerald in the shape of a wolf's eye, and showed it to his friends. “They gave me the ring in a dream, but I’ve been wearing it for five years now,” he smiled.” The full moon appeared, emerging from the clouds, and with it five wolves, sitting some five meters from the fire. The doctor and the Duma member fell into a daze, lay down by the fire, and fell asleep.

One of the wolves turned into a beautiful woman who approached the patron of the arts and bowed. “Come with me to my world, I ask you for the last time,” she moaned with a plea in her voice. There life flows in another dimension, there Eternal youth, there is my love, there travels to other worlds await you. There is no place for evil. What is this sinful land to you?

The patron was silent. Then she bowed low to him, right to the ground: “Farewell,” she said with tears in her eyes, “she turned and left into the early morning night.” The wolves also turned into two girls and two boys, bowed silently and left after their mother. One lingered and approached the patron of the arts: “Thank you, dad, for saving me from the hunters then, don’t try to find mom. There you will find yourself in a duel to the death with her new life partner. And you won’t be able to defeat a werewolf with superhuman strength, and weapons are powerless there, and there will be no one to help you.” With these words, she took the treasured ring from the patron’s finger, kissed him on the lips and left after the rest of her relatives.

The patron cried until the morning. He only now realized that he had lost a family whose existence he did not even know existed. There was no turning back. The earthly path that he himself chose for himself awaited him. Memories like a dream awaited him.

Evgeniy Borodovitsyn (Baybeg)

The events took place in 2006. The above is absolutely true. A criminal case was even opened regarding this incident. Everything happened not far from a small Altai village. For obvious reasons, the name is not indicated, and all names have been changed. It all started with a meeting on social networks of two army friends Stas and Igor. They had not seen each other for a long time and they naturally wanted to meet. Well, as expected, we sat, talked, and remembered old friends. And as the conversation progressed, we started talking about hunting. And Igor did not miss the opportunity to boast that he is an avid hunter and has traveled the length and breadth of Russia. Now I’m going to Altai with my brother and a couple of other good friends. And naturally, he immediately invited Stas to participate, promising that he would arrange everything to the highest standard, that he would select the best equipment for his friend, and that there would be no problems with the law, since everything was legal. After 4 months we moved out. Travel and fees: nothing interesting. But only for now. They were taken to the destination of the meeting with the huntsman by a helicopter controlled by an absolutely drunk pilot (Russia, what can I say). But, as expected, the huntsman did not meet him. Having learned from the pilot how to get to the nearest village, the friends went to look for him. It also turned out that they were here not entirely legally, as Igor assured. But then no one really worried about it. Stas was very surprised by the wide variety of all the equipment and weapons prepared by Igor (navigation devices and for night hunting, various knives, smoothbore and rifle). The residents did not greet them very cordially, but they provided overnight accommodation and dinner. But the huntsman was never found. We left the next morning. The entire route was designed for 8 days round trip. Scary tale happened on the fifth day. Towards evening we set up camp and were getting ready for bed. But suddenly, 300 meters from the company, a howl or a scream was heard. It was definitely an animal. Artem, Igor’s brother, immediately determined that it was a Siberian roe deer. We didn’t go to see if he was right or not, since it was already dark. And the feeling that they had already been chasing a bear for 4 days, and then he found them himself, is unpleasant. To keep order, of course, we fired a couple of shots into the air and went to bed. But it was impossible to sleep at all, and we slept in an embrace with a weapon. And in the morning, for some reason, everyone decided that the culprit of the night incident was a wolf. The most rested of the group, Valera, went to check, while the rest stayed to break up camp. About half an hour passed when suddenly two shots were heard, and a moment later two more. Having grabbed the guns, they rushed to the shots. What he saw did not fit into his mind: On the opposite bank of the seething river, Valera was lying on the ground (obviously lifeless). Someone or something was sitting on top of him and tearing his vest and jacket to shreds. It was a little more than a person, his skin was gray-green, his eyes were huge and black, and his muzzle was elongated like a dog’s. The tail was clearly visible, and something was sticking out from the back. Noticing the people, the creature hissed like a snake, which was audible very loudly. And this is taking into account the sound of water. Everyone started shooting at once, without aiming, since Valera was already dead. It is unknown how many shots were fired, but later the investigation established that the caliber was exactly 16 and 20. The creature straightened up sharply, then straightened those things on its back, and, grabbing Valera’s body with its hind paws or legs, rose into the air about 10 meters (and it was it is clear that the body did not create any load for him), and disappeared, breaking off the branches of nearby trees. There was no point in catching up with him. For five minutes the friends stood in silence, not believing that this was real. Only pieces of a jacket on the other side confirmed the opposite. The Ministry of Emergency Situations was called. And then things started to go. Constant interrogations, investigations, useless searches, a seemingly endless investigation. But the investigation was slowed down by the guys’ testimony; no one believed the story about the mystical creature. Various psychotests and examinations were carried out. Everyone wanted to blame their friends, putting forward the version that they got drunk and accidentally killed a friend and hid the body. But this opinion disappeared when the same roe deer was found in the forest with a large wound in its belly and a twisted neck. And the examination was unable to establish what kind of animal could have caused such damage. In the end, everything was attributed to a bear that attacked and killed a man. Naturally, the search for this bear did not lead to anything, but Valera’s knife and boot were found a kilometer from the river. One of the local residents of that village also testified. He wrote that there has been no hunting in those places for 70 years. Because it's "forbidden". But the hunters saw that it wasn’t a bear, and the locals, of course, know who did it and what

I heard this story a couple of years ago in the village. Three hunter friends went to the forest for the opening of the hunting season, took guns, booze, dogs and much more, loaded their UAZs and hit the road. The road was short, fortunately in our area the taiga is nearby. We arrived at the plot, heated the bathhouse, and prepared food. So we sat down, ate and then go and wash, there’s a table in the dressing room, 100 grams each, and then steam again. They wash and wash, then there’s a knock on the window, and lo and behold, there’s no one there. Well, they think it was their imagination. Again they are steaming, again there is a knock on the door, the dogs seem to be on a leash, well, off they go, they open the door and see - there are incomprehensible traces near the bathhouse, and all the hunters are experienced, but they have never seen such traces in their lives. And suddenly, in the bushes, such a nasty giggle. Well, the men thought, the stress has hit their heads, they need to pack up the table and move into the house. That's what they decided on. They are sitting at home, preparing their guns, they hear dogs whining, and stomping, and the door to the bathhouse - slam! Well, they were taken aback, they went out, and the door was locked, out the window, and there was a girl splashing around with her back to them, short, not pretty, and as soon as she turned her face... Well, the men drove the dogs into the house, they closed the doors. But the face was terrible, the eyes were bulging, the nose was hooked and the mouth was just an abyss with sharp needles and claws. It was getting dark, so what to do? The door is bolted, 1 is heating the stove, 1 is cooking on the stove, another is sitting with a gun. The stove flared up, and then there was a knock on the chimney, and a squeal from the chimney, and as if someone had climbed back, the men were taken aback!! Late night comes, and there is a knock on the door, and a voice: “Unlock it, let’s get acquainted!” - so nasty, scary!! The men: “Who are you?”, and they answered: “The owners!” Well, one of them thought of crossing himself, crossing the corners and sprinkling salt at the window and door. And shouts: “Go away, unclean!!” Then the house began to shake, someone was yelling obscenities around, running, roaring, laughing angrily and all that sort of thing, dogs were huddled in the corner, men were whiter than chalk. In the morning, the window flies out, and in front of them a creature on hooves, a terrible one, stands, looks and says: “I will destroy all of you, do you hear, all of you!!” It stands, but doesn’t go for the salt, it’s about morning, and it just evaporated, the noise died down, and, it seems, it’s quiet... They take the bags into their hands, the dogs, and they scurry off to the cars and home. Everything around the house was trampled down, as if a herd of horses had passed by. Well, then no one went to this plot, it was all overgrown, there was a bad reputation about it... And a couple of years later one of the men was hunting in that area, and his friends heard the shot, came running, and he shot himself, but it’s strange that from 2 vertical shots in the mouth, and the body looked like it had hoof marks...
PS. Judge for yourself whether to believe it or not, I apologize for my literacy, but I don’t bother to write correctly, I write as I speak, anyone who wants to will understand.

Drawing by Valeria Dashieva

In the footsteps of Bigfoot and the Devil Woman

Since ancient times, the Sartuuls have been and continue to be engaged in hunting. The rocky mountains of the Dzhida region abound with wild animals, therefore, according to the proverb “A man’s happiness is in the mountains,” representatives of the stronger sex, returning from the taiga, say: “We had a good time, we rested.”

In case of large production, it was arranged fun party, on which they broke a long bone, fried the liver, and told stories, many of which later became hunting tales. Countrymen, knowing each other well, often embellished events and added from themselves. It is known that many do not believe the stories of hunters. However, in any place and at all times there were many who wanted to listen to hunting tales. Some of them were recorded by the Honored Worker of Culture of Buryatia and Russia, People's Poet of Buryatia Sandzhe-Surun (Galina) Radnaeva.

Dzhida Bigfoot

The son of Nimazhap Dymchikov, who then worked as the director of the state industrial enterprise, Bolot, while hunting, discovered traces of a strange creature. - Since I saw those tracks, various misfortunes have constantly happened to me. Either I’ll break my leg for no apparent reason, or something else... I can’t get into a normal groove,” he told me.

I, too, once while hunting in the easternmost part of Zangata before sunset, saw a small bear and began to chase it. Having walked 500 - 600 meters, I suddenly saw a creature stepping over dead wood and moving away. It snowed recently and I could clearly see the trail. I was wearing size 43 rubber boots. After comparing the tracks, I estimated that the track was approximately size 41. Suddenly I felt uneasy, I turned around and headed towards my winter hut. It always seemed to me that someone was walking behind me, or it seemed out of fear (although I’m not one of the timid ones)...

I tried to direct my white dog so that it was behind me, but I achieved nothing: the dog always ran ahead of me. So, shouting at the dog, I reached my lodgings for the night. I made soup, had dinner, and fed the dog. Suddenly the dog barked, releasing streams of urine out of fear. Surprised, I opened the door, and the dog ran inside out of fear, jumped over the fire and hit the wall so hard that it was stunned. I strengthened the door with whatever came to hand, loaded the gun (it wasn’t very important, really), moved the ax under my arm and sat down. Dawn is far away...

Suddenly an unpleasant sound was heard outside (no matter how much I wandered through the forest, I never heard such a sound). Whatever happens, I thought, I opened the door and started firing in the direction where the sound was coming from. The sound stopped, and the dog and I could barely wait for the morning, I didn’t go to bed. Early in the morning I caught the horse, took him by the reins and walked with the dog towards the house. We reached the Khundelen River, it is no more than a meter wide, and the horse suddenly fell into the water. Any creature that falls into the water raises its head up, but here the horse does not pull its head out of the water...

I pulled the horse's muzzle by the bridle, tied it to a tree and ran for help, forgetting even to remove the saddle from the horse. After running two or three kilometers, I found myself in a winter hut - the Ichetui hunt in the Khundelen area. There was one young guy there. We rode to that place on his horse, but my horse was already dying. The guy offered to kill the horse, but I was careful not to let the blood flow into the river. He took the bridle off the horse, and he immediately went under the water. He hid the saddle in the forest and went, then hung the gun on a tree in a secluded place, and walked to Gegetui.
About two days after that I became very ill.

A few years later, the famous hunter Garmaev Lubsan-Yeshi hunted in those places. Returning late to the parking lot, I had dinner and began to get ready for bed. Suddenly his dog Bars barked loudly. Lubsan-Yeshi took the gun, went out and headed in the direction where the dog was rushing - to the east.

And suddenly I saw a humanoid creature, all overgrown with hair (fur), with a pointed head. The hunter was scared; he didn’t remember how he ended up in the winter hut. There was no gun, no jacket, no hat or mittens.

For several days the hunter walked without blinking, with his hair sticking up - he was so scared. After that incident I became very ill. Now I think that the creature had strong hypnosis. Or was it Bigfoot?

Recorded from the words of Rinchin-Dorzhi Dorzhievich Chagdurov.

Translated from Buryat into Russian by S. Balsanov.

Devil woman in dark robes

When I was a young daughter-in-law, I loved listening to the conversations of older people - my husband’s grandfather Zhantsan and others. Their stories were like fairy tales, they were amazing and aroused interest

Here is one of the stories. In the past, there lived one very accurate hunter (he was a representative of the seventh generation of my husband). One day he was hunting Gunzane and heard a rustling sound behind him, as if something huge was rolling down a mountain; without looking, he shot back from his armpits. Hearing the sound of something big falling, he got very scared and, without turning around, ran away in the other direction.

After some time, having calmed down, he returned to that place. I saw that there was a huge snake lying, whose head was the size of a foal. And all around the foliage of the trees turned yellow. There is a rule according to which the hunter must taste the meat of the killed animal. The hunter cut off a piece of meat from the killed snake and tasted it. “There is no tougher meat than the meat of a snake,” he later said.

Hearing conversations about this hunter, I remarked: “After all, this is a fairy tale, didn’t this really happen?” “No, no, it’s all true!” - the elderly said. They said that the hunter cut off his finger because in the autumn he rustled hay and straw and scared away the animals. When going hunting, he did not take any food with him, except for a container with melted butter.

One day a hunter was going to spend the night in the forest. I made a fire and boiled tea. Suddenly a woman in black clothes appeared and asked the hunter: “What is your name?” “My name is I myself,” answered the hunter. The hunter was a smart man and therefore suspected something was wrong (would a normal woman wander through the forest at night?), he ordered the woman to go get water. She took the birch bark vessel given to her and went to fetch water.

At this time, the hunter rolled up his degel so that they would mistake him for a sleeping man, and he hid behind a tree with his gun. The woman was gone for a long time. When she arrived, she covered her mouth with her sleeve and peered at the “sleeping man” for a long time. Then she turned into a bird with a long beak and was about to peck at the sleeping man. As soon as the bird raised its wings, the hunter shot in the chest. The bird fell screaming.

Various evil spirits (spirits, devils, etc.) came running to the cry and began to ask her: “Who did this?” “I myself! I myself!” - the bird called the hunter’s name. “Well, if you do it yourself, then what will we do?” - the creatures said and disappeared.

The hunter spent the night sitting by the fire. When it began to get light, I discovered a large, long, golden beak of a bird. The hunter took the beak, immediately returned home and went to the datsan. "This is very bad. Trouble is coming. This beak must be taken away and handed over to another datsan in the Zhuu area,” they told him.

It took the hunter three months to reach Zhuu. I handed over my beak to the datsan. The rector of that datsan knew who was heading towards them, and ordered: “A man with a golden beak is coming to us from distant places. We need to meet him, feed him, give him a rest.” The hunter changed horses along the way, which the Mongols gave him. When he got to Zhuu, he was met by people in the datsan. The doors of the datsan were open (and the hunter on the way was worried about how he would find and open the necessary doors).

The traveler was fed, allowed to rest, and then taken to the abbot of the datsan. He said: “You have defeated a very strong enemy. This strong sholmos (devil, devil) would bring considerable disaster to the people.” Then, as a gift, the hunter was given the book “Altan Gerel” (“Golden Light”), written in gold letters.

He was told that the book could not be held below waist level. On the way back, the hunter kept the book close to his chest the entire time. When his arms were tired (and he needed to sleep), he attached the book to his head, tying it with the reins. He rode for a very long time, and the reins rubbed his neck to the point of wounds and scars. Indeed, the book “Altan Gerel” was in this family when I came to them as a daughter-in-law.

Grandfather died at 87 years old. After him, the book was at the disposal of his wife. Someone asked to read this book, but never returned it. She must be in one of the Gegetui families.

The story is recorded from the words of Lyubov Damdinovna Badmazhapova.

Translated from Buryat into Russian by S. Balsanov.