Eyewitness: the Case of fishing

Vladimir Lokko, specially for the website mirtayn.ru:

The story, which happened in the early 1990-ies with me and my friend Nikolay, could happen at any time and, probably, in any place, so time and place don't matter much. The important thing in history itself, almost mystical fact.

We, the avid lovers of fishing on our Northern lakes and rivers, bought a map of the Murmansk region in scale 1:2. They were large deficits before the restructuring and we enjoyed the jerk on the blueprint. But here is "happiness" halt. Well, let's "walk" through it, looking for lakes and streams with trout, trout and haruzim.

Spotted a small pond, "suspicious" at the expense of ignoring the fish as its its trickle. Came and went at the beginning of July to look around the map is a pond. On the map it had no name, was very small, somewhere 200х300 meters. We gave it its name — Lokas, the first letters of our names.

Not having sufficient experience of walking through these cards, we don't obsess that will quickly find your destination. But hope is on the outlet of lake brook strongly attached to our idea of optimism.

Started the route with the lower, card — kilometer for two. Stream mercilessly meandered through the terrain, burrowing into the swamp bushes, ducking and branching on the sleeves, and then gradually began to be reduced to quite inconspicuous in the bushes and the grass. Finally, reaching until his disappearance in a swamp, we stopped for a smoke break.

The night we in the North in July, indistinguishable from the days if who knows, and we, afterwards, decided not to go further, to turn back and check for trout in this stream. I had to go back on a half-mile to the normal 1-1. 5 meter width of the stream.

He unwrapped the rods and began the usual process of hypnosis float with all the attendant procedures. Bites were not, which seemed strange in such places the trout streams with pits and hanging over the water with branches of trees and shrubs. My friend always tried to stay ahead of me, hoping for nepugannyh fish, and I followed him — as happened for the friendship.

And here was the most interesting. Nicholas, fascinated by the process, are left on the stream, and it seemed to me that the hillside could still be some lake, although the map was not visible anything, and the scale does not hurt painted all sorts of small puddles.

At the bottom of the stream were growing spruce and birch a decent size, and to consider what's behind them, I climbed a hill about 20 meters from the Creek, and suddenly found under the paw of a tree boot, just a rubber boot, not the swamp.

Further under the barrel immediately noticed a bucket, plain plastic bucket, and beside him, making the hair on the head have started to move from the unexpected spectacle. Under the tree lay something that looked like a mummy its color, dressed down in a shirt, trousers and the other boot on the unnaturally twisted leg.

In September last year, the staff of one enterprise on the bus drove into the woods. When the appointed time of the groups was not one person realized he was lost. In September, the nights are already dark and cold. It naturally was looking for immediately, then in the following days, but to no avail.

The young man that day was 25 years old. Mother gave him a watch with a personal inscription. For the first time in his life he went into the woods. So his mother said. As it has established the medical examination, he had a broken leg. He was walking leaning on a stick, and the landing of the bus in a straight line on the map — about 10 kilometers.

Mysticism that I went spontaneously to the place of his last breaths. Who led me to the remains?

Translated by «Yandex.Translator»