Dream hunters. Iurii Haidai
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Iurii Haidai
Редактор Inna Kharitonova
Корректор Tatiana Isakova
Дизайнер обложки Sergey Haidai
© Iurii Haidai, 2022
© Sergey Haidai, дизайн обложки, 2022
ISBN 978-5-0056-5982-8
Создано в интеллектуальной издательской системе Ridero
Even though he was at a great distance, peering out from behind the many branches of the bush, Brian didn’t move and was barely breathing so as not to scare off his prey. Turning his head just an inch, he turned his gaze to where his younger brother Ryan was sitting, also lurking. The boy, like his older brother, was intently watching the pack that was carelessly grazing in the meadow. Turning his head the other way, Brian looked to his right, at Murphy. Unlike Ryan, he looked calm, only Murphy’s eyes betrayed concern and tension.
Ryan turned his head sharply and looked at his brother expectantly. Brian, unmoving, shifted his gaze to the meadow and slowly raised his hand up. The younger man was already at the ready to snap out of his seat at any moment. Murphy remained nonchalantly in place, keeping his gaze on his prey. Tension was rising. His heart seemed about to jump out of his chest, but at that very moment Brian gave the go-ahead.
Without a second’s hesitation, the brothers and their friend simultaneously leaped from their seats and lunged forward, their hands brushing aside the branches that were about to hit their eyes. A few steps and the boys were out of the shelter of the sunlit clearing. Though they were descending a steep slope, the young hunters were quick on their feet as if they were on the verge of taking flight. The boys ran beside each other and did not look under their feet or to the sides. They could only see their prey in front of them, though it was two hundred yards away. Given the distance, there was more than enough time to catch their prey. This was because their target was large and slow, but not easy to catch.
A small flock of blue whales, twenty to thirty yards long, hovered over the meadow, nibbling at the crowns of low trees. The five huge whales, not down to the ground, two yards away, spotted the uninvited guests rushing at them from the slope, and stopped munching. Some let out a grudging cry that echoed through the valley and started to leave the pasture, turning lazily with all their bodies.
The sight did not make the boys happy as they flew with the speed of the wind and had already skipped from the slope to the meadow. The charge prevented them from slowing down. The whales were leaving the meadow, slowly, with gliding motions of their fins cutting through the air as thick as water, so that the young hunters had a chance to catch one of the packs of big and blue. With every second the boys were getting closer to their target.
Three of the five whales turned around and prepared to swim away, while the remaining two looked back at a half-turn. Slicing through the intangible air with their fins, the whales left a trail of translucent streaks in the sky. Without slowing, Murphy, through the wind, called out to Brian, who was running beside him, and nodded toward the whales. He turned his attention immediately to the nearest one, which was leaving a bright trail.
Rushing across the meadow, past low trees that looked like overgrown bushes, the boys were already beneath the whales, who had now managed to fall backwards. Ryan stopped in front of a huge net spread out on the ground. The others, circling the net, watched the whale swim away. Standing at the base of the net, Ryan picked up his bow from the ground, put a harpoon-like arrow to it, from which a rope stretched. Drawing the bowstring at half-strength, he waited, looking at his comrades. The boys stopped abruptly, each picked up his bow from the ground and, drawing the same arrows that stretched to the net, looked at the younger man. Ryan drew his bow with force. The hunters looked at each other and, pointing their arrows upwards, simultaneously released the bowstring.
The harpoons flew swiftly into the sky, easily lifting the net spread on the ground. The net at the opposite end from Ryan was staked, so it could not fly away or change course. Lifting it off the ground, the arrows wrapped the net around the last whale to swim away. Once trapped, the huge animal began to wag its tail, gradually releasing itself from the trap. The arrows slammed hard into the ground, covering the whale’s torso and jerking it down. The hunters watched with open mouths, but Brian finally woke up and rushed out, bow in hand. He ran to a tree, grabbed the roll of rope under it, put the loop he’d prepared on the ground, hammered in a stake, and began to strap the rope to the arrow. Watching Brian’s actions, the others also regained control of themselves.
Without stopping to toss, the whale flapped its tail in the air and knocked out one of the arrows, easing the pressure of the net, giving it room to manoeuvre further. The eldest of the brothers looked on in horror at the beating whale in the net, pulled the bowstring in panic and, nervously, shot at the prey, which was trying to escape. The arrow descended and jabbed into the ground without hitting the fugitive. Doing exactly as Brian had done, Murphy began aiming without haste, trying to cope with his emotions. The moment the whale almost threw off its net, he fired, and the arrow struck the animal in the side without straying from its trajectory, hitting it squarely in the target.
The whale let out a heartbreaking scream that echoed through the valley, so that the boys felt a slight vibration in their bodies. The whale dropped the net and tried to swim away, but an arrow sticking out of it prevented it from doing so. There was another pitying shriek, the animal tried again, and it was successful. The whale made a jerk and the arrow fell out of its torso. It hurriedly tried to leave the confines of the meadow as far as its puncture wound would allow. The harpoon had not entered deep enough to restrain the huge and powerful creature that was the larger blue whale.
As it swam away, its prey left not only a translucent trail of fins and tail, but barely discernible drops of blood, they floated in the air, remaining thick and solid. Murphy picked up the arrow with the blood-stained tip and looked after the whale, trying to catch up with his pack. The whales had gone so far that they could now all be safely caught in a fist.
The young hunters looked after the whales in the autumn sunlight.
***
The boys gathered their weapons and equipment and packed them into a small wooden wagon. What didn’t fit, they carried. They were a team, doing everything together, but only the older boys carried the wagon. Brian didn’t want his younger brother to do it, as it wasn’t an easy job. He looked after Ryan, as his older brothers did, trying not to get him involved in hard physical work as much as possible.
Murphy did not like this approach very much. He understood his older brother, but did not think what he was doing was appropriate. His younger brother was much quicker, and would have to be replaced more often, but his older brother worked for two and was twice as tired, unable to regain his strength properly. Even though Brian hadn’t changed anything, they hadn’t moved faster, and his strength hadn’t increased, on the contrary, he was still relieved, though only mentally.
Ryan couldn’t stay away and, despite his brother’s objections, carried tools, a hammer or stakes to lighten the weight of the wagon. It was a lot easier than dragging the wagon itself. Murphy, however, did not appreciate the efforts of either of them, considering the effort a waste of time, and his concern for one another, which he considered -showing off -, did not impress him. He kept his opinions to himself, not wanting a quarrel, knowing that it was better for the children to give in and let them do as they pleased, as long as it didn’t interfere with the whale hunt.
Leaving the valley, leaving a trail of stakes and arrows