Читать книгу Two Suns - Дмитрий Наринский - Страница 13

Leonid graduated from the institute precisely during the «Great Break,» a period of extensive transformations in the country. The first five-year plan for national economic development was adopted, setting the course for rapid industrialization, which necessitated the accelerated development of railroads. The People's Commissariat of Communication Routes of the Soviet Union was actively engaged in this endeavor, particularly valuing experienced specialists. Among them was Engineer Mirachevsky whose profound knowledge of railroads dated back to his childhood. His background as a skilled machinist, extensive practical training, outstanding natural aptitude, and organizational skills made him a highly esteemed employee. Excellently passing his exams and brilliantly defending his master's thesis paved the way for a promising professional career.

* * *

Olga was struggling in vain to feed Irina, who was being stubborn and refusing to eat. Frustrated, the mother raised her voice at the resistant little girl, but just then, the door swung open – Leonid, as always, arrived just in the nick of time, bearing a cake and sweets, and entered the scene of resistance.

«What's all the noise? No quarreling, girls!» he chimed in, immediately sweeping up his beloved daughter in his arms as tears began to form in her eyes.

Olga breathed a sigh of relief; her husband had a special way of handling their daughter – with him, her capriciousness vanished in an instant.

«So, how did the defense go?» That was the question of the day. Perhaps, that was why she had been so nervous while awaiting his return; she worried about how it all went, and the baby, of course, sensed her mother's emotions and reacted in her own way.

«Take a wild guess how it turned out?» Leonid playfully teased, as was his boyish tendency to pose riddles.

«Judging by the cake, Id say congratulations are in order,» Olga replied, always amused by his playful nature (he was such a child sometimes!).

«Yes, but on what?»

«Is it related to the defense?» She played along, entering his game.

«Aim higher!»

«With an outstanding defense?» Her laughter couldn't be contained now; he looked like a mischievous little boy, only grown up, with a little minx in his arms, trying to pull off his glasses.

«Olga, they're keeping me in the department!»

«I always knew my husband was a genius!» It was time for a loving embrace.

Later, Olga inquired, «Did even Professor Nedorozhny back down? You know he's the only teacher who could seriously complicate the defense.»

«Well, you know, knowledge is light, and light always overcomes the darkness! Even the darkness of ignorance among certain false scientists,» he replied with a hint of rebellion.

«You're a rebel, Leonid! And a chatterbox. At least try not to speak out too much at the institute. You know what kind of people are there…»

And so, the Mirachevsky family celebrated a true festive evening. Leonid passionately recounted the defense details, and Olga radiated with happiness. The endless trips and her husband's perpetual absence in search of income would now come to an end, allowing them to live like proper human beings!

The beginning of their new life was marked by a well-deserved vacation. The three of them spent a short break in Chervona: Olga had yet to meet her granddaughter, and Leonid missed his mother and the old Shpirkanov house with its vast garden – the place that, in his childhood memories, seemed boundless.

* * *

After a journey to the former Podolia Governorate, where time seemed to move in a measured and provincial manner, the harsh realities of everyday life awaited them. Olga's premature joy about a quiet period in their family history turned out to be short-lived. Her husband, an employee of the capital's university, was not content with peacefully working in the department and lecturing to students. No, that wasn't his cherished dream. Olga remembered his vivid childhood stories about distant lands and adventures, but she assumed that as children grow up, dreams are left behind. However, Leonid proved to be an exception – a dreamer-practitioner who turned his fantasies into reality.

It became evident that her husband's scientific work involved constant business trips, often leading to long and uncomfortable expeditions. Spartan living conditions, harsh weather, and other challenges made Olga uneasy. The room in Trekhprudny Lane served merely as a brief resting place between the ever-increasing number of journeys. If Professor Lepeikin, a favorite of students, often repeated the Latin aphorism «via est vita» meaning «life is a road,» then it could be said of Mirachevsky that his entire life was a journey.

The country had been woefully short of reliable highways (not just railroads) in the past, but the construction of factories across the Union and the development of new fields in Siberia demanded a transportation revolution. Designing new routes required months of laborious fieldwork, conducting detailed studies of the terrain.

In essence, Leonid's childhood dreams had come true. Adventure was an integral part of his life, but sometimes it could be perilous.

* * *

By mid-June, Mirachevsky was dispatched to the Volga region, where the construction of the Saratov-Millerovo railway line, initially planned by the tsarist government before the outbreak of World War I, was underway. This project held great importance as it aimed to connect the Volga regions with the Black Sea ports. Leonid assumed the role of senior engineer for the technical survey party.

It was only at this point that Olga truly understood the path she had chosen in life. Leonid, shuttling between the Volga region, Rostov, various points of the route, Moscow, the institute, and family life, was often exhausted, yet he felt utterly content. A life brimming with love and passion for his work energized him. He reveled in engaging cases, adored his «girls» at home, and passionately debated in the department, seeking truth. All of this seemed to invigorate him even more. Olga admired her husband's tireless energy – it seemed that the more he gave, the stronger he became. However, it also occasionally irritated her. Every woman feels more at ease with a reliable shoulder to lean on, someone to be there at any time, not just once a month.

And Leonid, who had already proven his capabilities in the southern direction, was entrusted with the next responsible and incredibly challenging task: research in Siberia. The assignment was slated to be lengthy, with no possibility of returning to Moscow. Therefore, the Mirachevskys faced the difficult decision of how to proceed with their lives.

After the department meeting, Professor Lepeikin caught up with him in the lobby:

«Leonid, you understand the importance of this project,» he said loudly, shaking Mirachevsky's hand. «And you know, if I were younger, I would be envious of you: such opportunities, such uncharted research territory!»

He then added in a lowered voice:

«But I sympathize with you, frankly. It's a very… extremely challenging environment there. It's almost Yakutia.»

«Thank you, Pyotr,» Leonid was touched by his beloved teacher's concern. «But, as you know, we go wherever the Motherland sends us.»

Lepeikin's tone became serious:

«I wish you good luck. And take care of yourself…» His worry was evident.

«Don't worry, Professor. You and I will be designing roads beyond the Arctic Circle!»

In reality, Leonid was experiencing conflicting emotions. He was pleased with his new assignment: being entrusted with such a responsible task fueled his enthusiasm. On his way home, he already began envisioning future routes, searching for the one true direction in the impenetrable wilderness. However, his joy was tempered by the need to explain the situation to his wife. He couldn't fathom being apart for a year, and perhaps even longer. How could he hint at the possibility of taking his family with him?

The task was further complicated by the fact that the survey was set to begin in March, before the spring floods thawed the roads.

Olga immediately sensed that her husband was withholding something when he shared how his day had gone. She observed him playing with their daughter, and though she didn't rush him or ask any questions, she knew he would eventually confide in her. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but feel anxious: his hesitation indicated that the matter was serious.

Once Irina fell asleep, Leonid, looking guilty, started to speak hesitantly:

«Olga…»

«A business trip?»

«No, Olga. An expedition.»

«Does that mean for a long time?» For some reason, Olga wasn't taken aback by the news.

«Not only that. It's also very far away.»

To be honest, she had anticipated something like this for a while. The development of Siberia was a constant topic of conversation among her husband's friends, who debated the best routes to lay, considering the challenges of climate and terrain.

«And what do the guidelines say for pioneer families in such situations?»

He smiled (acknowledging her irony!):

«The guidelines do not prohibit families from accompanying survey party personnel.»

He then continued with a furrowed brow:

«But you could stay. I even think it might be better for you to stay. You see, this is the northeast of the Siberian region, almost Yakutia (the professor's words came to mind, by the way), and it's uncertain how Irina will tolerate this climate.»

«Look, I won't pretend that I'm thrilled about all of this. But how long will the expedition last: six months, a year? What's your vision for our family life?»

«She wants to go? Great!» That was exactly the answer he had hoped for.

«Our life will be beautiful and extraordinary!»

«Shh, you'll wake her.»

«And we'll have a few more babies.»

… Falling asleep, Leonid said:

«And by the way, I'm the head of the party…»

* * *

The small caravan, having departed from Irkutsk, was resolutely pushing forward through the snowy kingdom – everything around them was a pristine white: the road, the trees, and even the horses' faces were covered in hoarfrost. Olga couldn't help but reminisce about the long journey on the comfortably heated «international» carriage of the swift Moscow-Vladivostok train that had commenced from the Yaroslavl station in the capital. But now, for her, a native of the blessed warm lands, the discomfort was palpable: they had traveled, probably, over a thousand versts (if one were to reckon in the old way) from Irkutsk. She thought wistfully: «What a Decembrist wife! If only I had known…» While Moscow was already experiencing the thaw, winter here showed no signs of receding, and they were drawing near the location where the expedition was to be established. Traveling along the ancient Irkutsk-Yakutsk postal road felt especially arduous due to their unaccustomedness to the conditions.

«Tell me, Leonid, who needs railroads in this remote place?»

«People live everywhere…»

It felt as though the snowy thicket had no end, but then the aroma of smoke reached their senses, and a settlement suddenly emerged on the path. The sleigh entered a courtyard, almost concealed under the snow, and stopped beside a hut adorned with exquisite carvings, like something out of a fairy tale.

The driver tossed aside his heavy fur attire and assisted the travelers. The house was warm and toasty, and at a long table, men were gathered, sipping tea. From the cups, saucers, and the towering samovar, fragrances of tea and medicinal herbs wafted through the air. Steam emanated from the frost as newcomers entered. A robust woman, seemingly the hostess, hurried over to them. She helped them with their coats and expressed concern over Irina:

«The child, the child is completely frozen! Have some tea, it will warm you up.»

The bewildered little girl gazed at the captivating scene and was unwilling to let go of her father's hand.

After they had shed their outerwear, cups were brought to them, filled with surprisingly salty tea mixed with milk (they later learned it was a traditional drink in these parts). Witnessing the perplexed expressions of the new guests, Nadezhda threw up her hands:

«Oh, right! The child needs something sweet! I'll go make some.»

Soon after dinner, they fell asleep almost instantly. And before dawn, beneath the still starry sky, they set off once more.

After a few days, the road led them to the river, and they continued their journey along the Lena's bank. Eventually, the road immersed itself back into the forest. They arrived at their destination, the unknown Kirensk, when the sun was already setting. The pines parted, revealing a remarkably beautiful sight: a small town amidst a snow-covered field adorned with tracks of sledges and skis – the frozen river itself (the opposite bank was dotted with boats trapped in ice). In this bend of the Lena River, where it merged with the Kirenga, stood the village. The snow gleamed with a pink hue in the setting sun, and bluish columns of smoke billowed above the huts – this is how Olga would later recollect her very first impression of Kirensk.

They were expected upon arrival. The chairman of the district council, Kurekhin, had received a telegram from Moscow requesting all possible assistance to the survey expedition, and thus everyone who arrived was promptly accommodated in their homes.

The next day, Kurekhin decided to give them a tour. He showed up in the morning, inquired if they needed anything, and suggested a walk:

«You will be able to take a look at our town, the sights, so to speak», and, glancing skeptically at Olga, added, «Just dress warmer, we don't have the climate for the capital's… styles here.»

«Understood, girls?» Leonid laughed. «You won't even need to unpack those styles.»

The Mirachevskys hadn't expected to find anything captivating in this remote wilderness, but it would have been impolite to decline the hospitable host's offer. They strolled along the street, where the occasional passers-by stopped to greet them and observe the newcomers with curiosity. The town was truly bustling, featuring stone and log houses, many adorned with mezzanines and peculiar shutters on the windows. Some of these houses had once belonged to prosperous merchants, fur traders, timber magnates, and grain merchants, while others were the residences of businessmen and shipowners. One of the houses, with its blue-trimmed windows, had even sheltered the exiled Decembrist Prince Golitsyn.

«You have such unique architectural details here,» Olga remarked.

«And there's much more we have that others don't. Our town is ancient; the Cossacks established an ostrog (fortress) here as far back as 1630. We hold on to our customs,» the chairman explained.

«What kind of people do you have here? Will they be willing to join my expedition?» Leonid inquired, more concerned about the practical aspects of hiring workers.

«You must be cautious in the district: there are fugitives and the dekulakized (dispossessed peasants) hiding around here,» the chairman cautioned. However, he quickly corrected himself after Mirachevsky cast a meaningful gaze at him, then shifted his gaze to his wife, «Well, that was in the summer, nowadays they've probably driven them all away. But we have many educated individuals, including former exiles. My grandfather, an engineer, was exiled here from Samara Governorate. By the time his sentence was over, he had established a family and a home here. This place was close to his heart.»

«What was your grandfather in for? Did he dissent against the Tsar?» Olga inquired.

«Oh, yes! A political exile,» the chairman confirmed.

«My grandfather's brother was also like that,» Leonid recalled the stories about his mother's uncle Markel, «After serving his time in the Kara katorga, he settled somewhere not far from here, in Yakutia.»

As they approached the river, they spotted two temples on the left: an impressive stone one and a wooden two-story structure with mica windows, appearing as if from an old engraving due to its weathered and darkened appearance. The chairman explained, «The former Trinity Monastery has been here since the 17th century, known as the Ust-Kiren Monastery. The wooden church is St. Nicholas, and the cathedral used to be the main one.» Sighing involuntarily, he added, «Tomorrow we'll hold a meeting to get to know the people better.»

«It's a sight to behold!» Leonid exclaimed, already looking forward to exploring the surroundings of Kirensk, «But I couldn't see any bridges. What about in the summer?»

«There are no major bridges here, and the wooden ones built by the locals are destroyed during the ice drift. So, in the summer, transportation is primarily done by boat, and there's also a ferry crossing. When the ice melts, our three rivers will be fully visible – that's when you'll see the true beauty! Notice that hill over there? It's called Krasnoarmeyskaya, but its actual name is Sokolinaya Gora. The best views are from there.»

«Three rivers? I only read about two!» Leonid shivered, feeling the cold.

«Well, I suppose your books don't cover everything. Look to the left on the other bank of the Lena, you'll find the Telyachikha River flowing into it from the north. There are ship repair shops over there. And to the right is our Kirenga River,» the chairman elaborated.

«Well, for now, it's frozen over,» Olga said, trying to warm up.

«Olga, we're in the Venice of Siberia!»

«It's time to head back; the young ladies are already feeling cold,» the chairman expressed concern.

The next day, the club, originally built by merchants for their own needs, was bustling with people. Engineer Mirachevsky addressed the gathering, explaining the purpose of the expedition:

«Your region is rich, as you all know, and its development requires the construction of roads. Kirensk holds a strategic location in a region where the government and scientists have long contemplated building a road to connect with the Turkestan railroad. That's why we're here: survey parties are currently active all across the East Siberian region.»

«They say they'll stretch the road all the way to the ocean!» A lively voice called out from the back rows.

«That's the talk. But whether that road becomes a reality depends on all of us. So, my comrades, if any of you wish to be part of this crucial endeavor, please sign up.»

Leonid had not anticipated the party to recruit workers so swiftly, but his joy was premature. The volunteers couldn't endure the harsh working conditions for long: weeks spent on arduous treks exploring vast territories. Kurekhin explained the locals' seasonal habits:

«People here are used to hard work during the summer, but in winter, they tend to retreat into a sort of hibernation, focusing mainly on hunting. Leonid, you should look among the Evenks; some of them are willing to collaborate.»

«I'll search everywhere. Thank you for the guidance; Saveliy is a clever fellow and knows these places well.»

«Yes, and what a skilled hunter he is!»

The main research commenced during the summer. Before departing, Mirachevsky warned Olga that they would be away for at least a month. She had to come to terms with it.

The plan involved descending the Lena and then moving a little further east. In one of the villages along the shore, they managed to hire two strong, reserved men – a father and son. Saveliy suspected they were former kulaks (wealthy peasants) who had escaped exile, but they proved to be diligent, moderately amicable, and reliable enough, and that was all that mattered to the party chief.

The terrain became increasingly challenging, with occasional encounters of marshy areas. They had to adapt the plan, altering directions and deviating from the original route. The survey parties often traversed uncharted and undeveloped lands, at least according to their maps. However, the taiga wilderness concealed not only natural treasures, but also other dangers. The guides had issued warnings – fierce individuals were lurking in the forests. Rumors circulated about entire settlements of kulak families and fugitive criminals hiding from the authorities within the taiga.

«Well, Saveliy, who do we have to fear out here? There's hardly a soul nearby!» They had just arrived at a small stream, and Mirachevsky scanned the opposite high bank with binoculars.

«Some say that Ataman Bugor was spotted in these parts not too long ago. His great-great-grandfather once established a stockade where our town now stands…»

«You have quite the belief in legends, don't you?» The party chief smiled at the guide.

Leonid himself knew that the impenetrable forests of Siberia and the Far East could be dangerous. Former convicts, who had nowhere else to go, settled in these remote areas. Some led peaceful lives within the thickets, while others survived by robbing local peasants and small merchants. During his extensive expeditions, the engineer had encountered many of these individuals and heard countless stories.

Ignatiy Bugor was a legendary figure in these parts. No one knew exactly where he was, and opinions about him diverged. Some considered him an embodiment of Stepan Razin, attributing his exploits to acts of justice, while others (albeit in hushed tones) deemed him an ordinary bandit, ruthless and cruel. His henchmen prowled the vicinity, seeking their prey. Ignatiy himself fueled the rumors about his kinship with Vasily Bugor, a Cossack tenant who had journeyed to the Pacific Ocean. It was this intrepid Cossack who founded Nikolsky pogost in the 17th century, which later transformed into Kirensky Ostrog on an island at the confluence of two rivers – the Lena and Kirenga.

«Why shouldn't I believe it? And it's not some mere legend… Last September, his men plundered an entire wagonload of treasures. And not just food, but anything that could fit into a wagon. Everyone around here knows about that raid. Of course, Ignatiy shot the guards, and then he finished them off… But what happened afterward – you can't even fathom it!»

«Buried with honors,» Leonid muttered.

«The next morning, the villagers awoke,» Saveliy continued, his tone devoid of amusement, «and found their goods piled up in the middle of the street.»

«Is everything beneath the banner of righteousness?»

«Not everything, of course. The Bugrovites themselves need to survive somehow!»

«Alright, storyteller, let's set up camp here. Tomorrow, we'll figure out how to cross to the other side.»

By the time they had established their camp and hastily prepared supper, darkness had enveloped the surroundings. Leonid cherished these late hours when everyone else was asleep, allowing him to sit beside the extinguished fire, gazing up at the stars entangled in the treetops, and listening to the nocturnal sounds of the taiga. No, he needed to sleep; tomorrow, a challenging crossing awaited them. Climbing into the tent, he wrapped himself in an old, homemade plaid (a reminder of Olga), removed his glasses, carefully placing them beside him, and soon drifted off to sleep.

Mirachevsky was abruptly awakened by a sharp push in his side.

«Ignatiy that's the boss! Look, he's got glasses.»

It was the twilight hour before dawn, when darkness veiled everything, and only a faint light touched the eastern sky above the forest, while the shore lay hidden beneath a thick shroud of mist. The armed men cautiously peered into the tents, but seemingly, no new orders had arrived, so they remained as silent guardians. The whole scene resembled a peculiar, wordless movie.

The red-haired guy, who had woken Leonid up earlier, guided him towards a short, robust young man who clearly seemed to be the leader. In the semi-darkness, the engineer couldn't discern the features of his face.

«What is going on here? Who are you?» Leonid began calmly, despite the cold morning and the excitement that gripped him.

«Hear that!» the redhead retorted with an unpleasant grin, though not loudly. «They came uninvited and now they ask questions!»

«Wait, Semyon,» the chief gestured to the guy with an expressive look.

«Why? You, strangers, came here and went to bed. Feeling at home?» Semyon persisted.

The leader waved him off irritably, and the redhead stepped back. «You don't seem easily frightened,» the stranger said with a low, pleasant voice.

At that moment, someone lit a torch, and Leonid finally got a glimpse of the man's face. Black curly hair, a matching slightly graying beard, a shrewd gaze, and a mocking expression – overall, the first impression was somewhat favorable. «But if anything goes awry, he won't hesitate to act…» Leonid thought to himself, before speaking up:

«I have nothing to fear. I'm the head of the survey party, and everyone here knows that. But I'm curious to know why you need me.»

«I am Ignatiy Bugor, the chief of these lands,» the man introduced himself.

Laughter echoed around. Saveliy emerged from a nearby tent and was immediately seized by a burly individual. Bugor continued, his tone both humorous and authoritative:

«You are now at my disposal.»

«That's impossible. We have an important mission to accomplish…» Leonid objected.

«Perhaps you will, that remains to be seen. For now, gather your belongings and don't cause trouble. I'll handle anyone who resists,» Bugor nodded towards the guide who attempted to break free, his hand hovering over his holster.

«But I can't leave the surveying instruments. I'm responsible for them,» Leonid tried to reason.

Bugor nodded, then ordered Saveliy to be brought forward, and inquired:

«Can you get the men back?»

Saveliy remained silent.

«Proud too, I see. Very well, be quiet. Once the others wake up, pack up everything and return it as it is.»

Turning back to Leonid, Bugor clarified:

«Return it where?»

«To Kirensk.»

«Understood. And ensure there's no pursuit. Otherwise, you'll lose your boss.»

* * *

Leonid packed his belongings, bid farewell to Saveliy, and asked him to inform his wife and the chairman that he had crossed paths with another group of prospectors in the taiga and would be working with them temporarily. Two boats awaited the bandits near the shore.

As they sailed through the fog, it felt like a haunting dream to the engineer. He couldn't fathom what was happening – these men had taken nothing: no possessions, no provisions, not even weapons.

«Why do you need me?» he inquired.

«Well…» Bugor evaded the question.

They sailed for quite a while. The current picked up, and the increasing noise suggested that rapids might lie ahead. Indeed, the boats docked on the opposite shore, concealed behind towering boulders, and the group ventured deeper into the forest. At first glance, it seemed like an utterly untamed place – no trail or broken branches. To Leonid's surprise, a clearing with several dugouts and tents suddenly emerged before them. Clothes hung on ropes between the trees, people bustled around two fires, and the scent of porridge and fish filled the air.

«Here we are,» Bugor gestured around his domain. «We'll have breakfast now, and then we'll talk.»

Another fire was arranged for them nearby. Over the meal, Ignatiy began:

«Don't worry, Leonid. Nothing will happen to you. I need a reliable assistant, someone competent. You'll stay here for a while, help me with a matter, and then we'll send you back, safe and sound.»

Mirachevsky was about to object, but Bugor didn't let him speak and continued:

«You'll stay for a while, get to know each other better, and then we'll decide how you can be of use. Don't try to escape; you won't find your way out alone, even if you think you've memorized the route. And I wouldn't advise it anyway – you won't escape my 'trotters' regardless.»

The days passed strangely. Bugor placed Leonid in his dugout, and they spent every moment together, even going hunting. Somehow, all the other men disappeared from the «village,» leaving only one who stuck closely to the engineer's side. The Bugrovites returned late at night with a bountiful catch.

Mirachevsky likened the entire situation to the books about Native Americans by James Fenimore Cooper, which he had adored in his childhood, and he felt like the Pathfinder in the Delaware village. During this time, he learned much about the leader of the «forest tribe» and even sympathized with him.

Ignatiy wasn't known for being talkative, but he shared that he came from a merchant family that had prospered in Siberia through the fur trade, building their wealth through hard work. During the Civil War, he lost his family, and when Soviet power was established in Irkutsk, he moved to the countryside with his wife, hoping for a peaceful life on the land. However, when the Bolsheviks arrived in the early twenties, he staunchly opposed the prodrazverstka (grain requisition), and they sought revenge. He lost the person he loved most, his Anastasia. He rallied his supporters and drove the Reds out of the village, after which he had no choice but to retreat into the forests.

Leonid was deeply moved by this story. In turn, he shared his own childhood and youth experiences, recounting the events of the Civil War in the Poltava region. A trusting bond formed between them quickly, and then Ignatiy produced a map. Before his death, a White Guard officer who hadjoined Bugor's detachment gave him this map. Supposedly, it marked the location of a hidden cache of gold from the Yakut mines.

«I am literate, but I cannot read maps. Besides, it's not clear where this cache is located,» Bugor admitted.

«And what will you do with it if you find it?» Leonid inquired.

«I'll head to Manchurl in China. There's no life for me here,» Bugor responded. He added, «You'll get a share, of course.»

But Mirachevsky merely waved his hand; he was already engrossed in studying the worn map and felt nothing but familiar excitement. He spread out his own map on the table and attempted to align the two images. However, aside from the difference in scale, the markings were carelessly done, unusual for an officer.

The next day, from early morning, he was bent over the scheme.

«Does it make any sense?» Ignatiy asked anxiously, observing the frowning engineer.

Leonid shook his head, «Not yet. You can see the state of the paper – it's tattered, not a proper plan. Half of it is indecipherable.»

He spent the entire day grappling with the puzzle, trying to unlock its secrets. Yet, the key eluded him…

The following morning felt unusually tranquil. As Leonid emerged from the dugout, he realized he had overslept (his mind had been preoccupied with the treasure for a long time), and the Bugrovites had gone fishing again. Not far away, the «spy» sat perched on a stump, squinting at the sun. After washing his face and savoring a cup of fragrant herbal tea, he resumed his work, lingering a bit longer at the entrance.

«What a day! It's a shame I can't walk around with this map in public,» he mused.

Late at night, as he heard the excited voices of women outside and the grumbling of his guards, Mirachevsky realized that the detachment hadn't returned yet, which for some reason worried those left in the camp. Quietly, he went to bed, unsure of how far Ignatiy had taken his men.

However, the squad didn't show up the next day. That's when Leonid's gut told him to act.

Yet, he hesitated for some reason. It felt wrong to leave like this, without saying goodbye and without explaining himself to Bugor. There was something between them: if not friendship, then mutual understanding. Besides, last night he had finally realized that the officer's map was worthless – it was impossible to determine the actual location of the supposed treasure from it. The experienced cartographer knew this better than anyone else. «But Ignatiy doesn't know about it yet,» Mirachevsky agonized.

Suddenly, a thought pierced him, causing him to view both his «jailer» and the situation differently: «What if Bugor thinks that I've deciphered the scheme and want to claim the gold for myself? What then? He'll find me anywhere… and maybe not just me… the girls…» Leonid even jumped up, hitting his head on the low ceiling. «No, you can't think of a man like that! Although…» Saveliy's stories came to mind.

However, there were more weighty circumstances. First, his family was waiting for him: Irina, Olga (she was probably already worried). Secondly, staying with the bandits for too long could lead to accusations of complicity in the future – times were such that even the slightest suspicion could lead to an accusation. And that could affect his family.

The final argument proved decisive.

Leonid swiftly gathered himself up, slipped the plan under Ignatiy's pillow, and, seizing the moment when the women were cooking and the man was making a fire, quietly slipped into the thicket. The seasoned engineer was well-oriented and remembered the direction. The main thing was to get to the river (and even more importantly, not encounter a wild animal – of course, he no longer had a gun), and from there, he could find his way to his party's last camp along the riverbed. However, in the dense forest, everything looked quite different from the map, and he had to travel through the taiga, getting scratched in the process.

Now, the route was clear: to the parking spot, and from there, to the Lena. Yet, it soon became clear that walking along the higher bank was impossible due to slippery boulders, sharp stones, and thorny bushes that extended all the way down to the water, making it almost impassable. Crossing to the other side of the shallow yet swift rivulet seemed risky, but there was no choice. Without taking a step in the water, Leonid stepped (there were boulders underwater as well), painfully hitting his knee. Fortunately, he realized that he could still swim, and he had to do it quickly – the icy water was cramping his legs. Upon reaching the shore, he was shaking. He attempted to run to warm up, but his bruised knee let him down. He wanted to walk straight down the fairly gentle bank, in the sunshine, but he didn't dare yet, fearing pursuit.

Mirachevsky had only a slice of bread, which he had stuffed into his rucksack at the last moment. There were still unripe berries and fish in the calmer part of the river (provided he dried the matches well). When he reached the camping spot, he realized that he needed to take a break, rest well, and eat – it was unknown how many days he would have to hike to the «Big River» with a sore leg.

… On the fourth day, he heard faint wood chop sounds. «What? Am I daydreaming?» The sounds disappeared, but after a while, they reappeared, and now the clatter of an axe could be distinctly heard. The men, who were clearing the area, were alerted when they saw a dirty, ragged man wearing glasses:

«White? An officer?» The bald-headed man squinted at him.

«Why, Victor, the whites have long been gone,» laughed the russet-haired boy, «the man must have lost his way.»

They took him to the nearest village. The local authorities there, after clarifying all the circumstances, provided him with assistance to get to the Lena, from where Leonid hired a boat all the way to Kirensk.

* * *

Irina did not immediately recognize her beloved father. Olga, usually reserved, burst into tears, embracing her gaunt husband. Kurekhin and Saveliy quickly arrived as news spread rapidly in small towns. The chairman warmly shook Leonids hand for a long time, and the guide clapped him on the shoulder in a delighted manner, saying:

«Well done, Chief, well done!» and turning to the chairman, «I told you he's resilient. Smart and resilient!»

It turned out that the engineer had been absent for more than three weeks. Saveliy explained everything to everyone, just as they were told, except for Kurekhin. He immediately informed him of what had happened. They now had a better idea of where to search for Bugor's gang (the word «gang» suddenly struck Mirachevsky). The operation was conducted with utmost secrecy, as it was believed that Ignatiy had many supporters in every settlement.

«Where is he now?» Leonid asked.

«Such an important figure was taken to Irkutsk; the investigator came all the way from there.»

Leonid's countenance darkened; he had indeed become friends with his «jailer,» and it was hard to come to terms with the fact that such a bright life would be interrupted to some extent because of him. Ignatiy was a contradictory personality, but in a way attractive – a noble robber, a literary type. And at night, through a dream, a very strange thought suddenly broke through: «Eh, I didn't have a chance to ask Ignatiy whether he was related to Vasily Bugor or not…»

* * *

At the very end of August, the Mirachevsky family suddenly grew: Olga and her husband arrived unannounced, like a summer snow (as they say, such things happen in these parts).

After reading the mute question in her daughter-in-law's eyes, the mother-in-law immediately clarified:

«My son is here, and here is where I will live.»

«Mom, maybe it would be better in Moscow after all?» was all Leonid could manage.

It turned out that it wasn't a whim to suddenly move so far away. Life in Chervona had become unbearable for the proud woman: the local authorities had requisitioned the old house – the family nest of the Shpirkans.

Thus, Irina's life forever included her grandmother and grandfather, and the survey party gained two more reliable workers – Leonid's mother and her husband, Nikolai Kirik, who had served as a gamekeeper in Podolia.

The members of that expedition faced many difficulties, but Olga could never forget one encounter with a bear in the taiga for the rest of her life. She had wandered quite far from the camp while picking mushrooms. The clearing was teeming with mushrooms, and the woman didn't have time to straighten up before she heard the crunch of twigs. When she looked up, a few meters away stood a bear. Frozen with horror, she remembered what Saveliy had told her about these animals. It was absolutely impossible to run away, and dangerous to stay. It was said that one should not shout, but then the bear must have seen her as prey and roared. In response, Olga screamed in the same way – out of horror and surprise. She stood right in front of the fearsome beast and shouted loudly and desperately, without taking a step back! Surprisingly, the bear first backed away, then turned, and retreated into the thicket. She collapsed onto the grass, drained of strength… She didn't remember how she made her way back to the camp, but she clutched onto the basket of mushrooms throughout the ordeal.

* * *

Towards the year's end, Mirachevsky's party found itself relocated to Novosibirsk. The family embarked once more on the winter road, now accompanied by a larger brood. Their numbers had expanded, but it was not the final count, for they anticipated a new addition by summer – Olga was pregnant again.