Hunting for a bear

A yay buzzing over the cripple. The snow is strewn all around, and the light from him painfully cuts his eyes. Suddenly there was a growl in the crippled wood, the knots began to crackle. Then something appeared from somewhere shaggy, then a shot rang out. I blurted out after the bear, and again the same roar, accompanied by furious barking, stirred the morning silence.

I saw a beast that barely escaped from us, sinking deep into the snow. The long-haired dog, chasing, raced around him and ran along the nast, as if on a smooth road.

The bear left. Forgetting about the danger, the hunter rushed to him across, and then, from a close distance, threw a rifle at him. The bear momentarily froze, then turned and, bristling with fur, wildly looking around, roared with a roar at Savelia.

Hunter Savely quickly jumped off the skis, holding the spear firmly. The bear was approaching. From his terrible roar shook the forest. Behind the beast stretched a bloody trail along the

snow-white cover of the forest.

The bear was in anger. He rose to his feet, and his huge forelegs reached out to the hunter.

A vicious, fierce roar rolled through the forest, echoing with a roaring echo. The bear did not retreat, but everything was approaching on its hind legs. The hunter stood firmly on his feet, waiting for the best moment to strike. The beast and the hunter were surprisingly similar, ready for a deadly battle.

The hunter planted a horned rod in the belly of the bear, but he broke his stick with his paw and attacked his enemy. Having pressed him with his heavy body, the bear began ruthlessly tearing its prey with claws and teeth.

The barking barked with anger at the bear, trying to protect the owner. A fantastic winter forest filled with screams, roar, barking.

I tried to save Savelia and shot a bear in the head. When the smoke cleared, the beast was already dead. Saveliy lay on the snow, huddled against the bear’s back, and was unrecognizable. He raved, muttered something incoherent… Pyzh whimpered, licked the owner’s face, hands. The dog did not want to believe that Saveliy would never return to life.

The sun was shining, the frost was sparkling, the forest was still dressed and beautiful. The nature in the festive attire remained indifferent to what had happened here. Only Pyzh longly howled, mourning the old master.

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Hunting for a bear