A terrible beast of a thick what a genre of work. A fat mouse and scary beasts to read. Tolstoy's Fable “A Terrible Beast. The most terrible beast of the planet is ...

The modern fauna of the planet Earth today is very diverse. In it, in the neighborhood, peacefully, and sometimes not, many insects, mammals, reptiles coexist, live and reproduce, which, in the event of an impending threat, are ready to use teeth, fangs, thorns towards their opponent or enemy. Also on the planet there are such representatives of the fauna that do not seem to be particularly dangerous, due to their excessively small size, however, they are ready to defend themselves on occasion by using their tentacles, claws, poison, sting and teeth.

One of the most formidable weapons of the smaller brothers today is considered to be poison, which for absolutely any person is a mortal danger. If one type of poison causes unbearable excruciating pain in the victim, then another type can cause cardiac arrest, and the third can even lead to paralysis of the respiratory and nervous systems.

Sometimes it is difficult to call some representatives of flora and fauna terrible animals, because they are not because of their harmfulness, they are driven exclusively for themselves by personal motives:

the instinct of self-preservation,
hunger.

An animal attacks for a reason, it can also protect its offspring from external threats.

In the 2000s, while studying the movement of sharks in the Arctic waters, scientists discovered one very interesting object in the stomach of a Greenland shark - the jaw of a young bear. Previously, such finds were not found, as a result of which a dispute of the following kind immediately arose in the scientific community: how exactly did the remains of a bear get into the stomach of an aquatic predator. Some researchers supported the point of view that the shark may have caught a live bear and ate it, others were more impressed by the point of view that the shark, most likely, dined on carrion.

In the event that a bear really fell prey to such a predator as a shark, then it can rightfully be called the most important predator in the Arctic.

In fact, it is impossible to give an unequivocal answer to this problem - the shark is always hungry, on its way it absorbs both the dead and the living. In the stomachs of these inhabitants of the ocean and sea depths, people did not find anything:

small bags of gold,
bird cages,
corpses of dogs in muzzles,
explosives,
human skulls, arms and legs.

A shark easily deals with its prey, several sharks are able to deal with even such a large animal as an elephant.

An animal such as a polar bear always appears in the lists of the most terrible animals on the planet. This strong predator can blow off the head of an adult with just one blow of its powerful paw.

Cases of attacks of these animals on humans are quite rare, and if they do happen, they are associated with the destruction by people of the habitat familiar to polar bears.

Despite the fact that jellyfish seem to people to be completely harmless creatures, and some people even touch them in the water, it is better not to have a common deal with unfamiliar representatives of marine biology.

The touch of the tentacles of some representatives of the aquatic world, for example, a sea wasp (box jellyfish), to a person leads to tragic consequences, he can die in a short time.

It is sea wasps that today are considered to be the most dangerous representatives of the jellyfish family. The poison of one such individual is enough to kill about 60 people. You can meet this inhabitant of the water element in Australia, they often swim to the beaches.

However, despite such a dangerous proximity, people are not at all afraid to swim next to such a dangerous enemy. Human society has invented an interesting way to protect against sea wasps: vacationers from head to toe put on clothes made from the same material from which nylon lycra tights for women are made. Such material well protects the body of the swimmer from sticking to the skin of the poisonous tentacles. There are craftsmen who independently make bathing suits for themselves from several pairs of tights at home.

In the warm sea waters, a huge number of terrible animals are hidden, among which snakes are also ranked, their poison, in contrast to the poison of terrestrial reptiles, is many times stronger. In the rating of the most dangerous sea snakes, the first place is occupied by krait, or as they are also called, dovetails.

Their teeth are located far enough in the mouth, they simply cannot bite a person. But as soon as some too inexperienced curious diver catches this representative of the sea depth, while spreading his fingers as wide as possible, the krait will immediately rush to bite the person into the skin between the fingers - this very vulnerable spot can become an excellent target for the snake.

Dangerous felines

How many films have already been published, such as "The Ghost and the Darkness", narrating books about man-eating lions, about how representatives of the feline family strive to deal with people at all costs (it is worth remembering at least Mowgli and Sherkhan).

Even the largest lion, upon seeing a person, seeks to immediately retire away, and leopards do the same. However, among leopards, man-eaters are still found. The most ferocious predator attacking people is considered to be an animal that killed 125 people in the Indian settlement of Rudraprayage in 8 years. In 1926, the ogre was killed by the English hunter John Corbett, who later dedicated a book to his leopard hunt.

A leopard attacking people is very difficult to track down, since this animal is so smart that people living in the jungle may not even see such a dangerous neighbor next to it.

Elephants should be ranked among the most dangerous animals. Despite the fact that these animals cannot boast of perfect vision, they, in contrast to this problem, have a very developed intellect, which allows them to easily distinguish a person from any animal.

In those places where elephants live in their natural habitat, legends and traditions are formed about the mental abilities of these animals. They perform in circuses, they can be found in zoos.

When an elephant collides with a person in a wild environment, the animal will immediately rush to kill him. Often, due to a lack of provisions, elephants are forced to enter the plantations at night in order to eat fruit, where they practically collide with local guards. The watchmen are simply forced to pounce on unexpected guests with sticks, and the animals in this case are desperately defending themselves.

Today, elephants become involved in accidents in zoos and circuses.

This animal can easily kill a lion, a man and a crocodile with just one awkward movement. In countries such as Bangladesh and India, elephants steal alcoholic products from people - rice beer, drink it and, being drunk, trample up to 100 people a year.

If, when a man and an elephant meet in the wild, the former behaves calmly, then the latter will most likely not attack him. However, if an impudent and impudent tourist starts demonstratively waving a camera or video camera in front of the elephant's face, then the consequences of such communication will be very deplorable, a person will definitely end up in a hospital bed at best, at worst - he can be crushed to death by a massive giant.

Monkeys

In the list of the most dangerous animals, by the way, along with elephants, are monkeys, especially the most terrible representatives of this family are macaques, chimpanzees and baboons. However, not many people agree with this point of view, they say that although monkeys are prone to stealing, they are the cutest animals.

India suffers from the massive invasion of monkeys, in this country these animals feel well, very much at ease. This is primarily the fault of the people themselves, who feed these representatives of the animal world. Tragedies involving monkeys and humans are rare; a monkey can only kill if someone tries to limit its personal freedom.

The most dangerous animal and land predator at the same time is considered to be a crocodile.

Despite the fact that people annually kill a huge number of crocodiles for their beautiful skin, which, after killing an animal, automatically falls into the rank of raw materials for boots, bags, wallets, this toothy representative of the animal world does not mind eating a man himself.

The African continent holds the record for the number of human victims. Most often, the victims of crocodiles are gape fishermen, children, carelessly playing on the banks of rivers.

In Africa in the XX century, people actively exterminated the crocodile tribe, as a result of which the active reproduction of predatory fish began in the rivers, a favorite dish of the crocodiles themselves, who, in turn, almost completely exterminated smaller relatives that were on the menu of local aborigines. As a result, a huge number of people died of hunger.

A clash between a man and a crocodile is rarely fatal. This, in turn, is due to the fact that the hulking reptile is not adapted to hunting people. In the event that the victim does not swim, but takes a vertical position, it is sometimes very difficult for a crocodile to grab it. And if, nevertheless, a crocodile in such a position grabbed a person, then he will pull his victim to the bottom and wait until it chokes. After making sure of this, the reptile will tear the drowned man into small pieces and eat it.

Despite the fact that the crocodile is not a very agile animal, it can reach speeds of up to 30 km / h in water and produce rapid forward throws of its body. Tourists in parks are not allowed too close to reservoirs with crocodiles, this is done to avoid an accident.

Brazil and Costa Rica are home to small, colorful frogs that are destroying this long-standing stereotype. The color of this cute representative of wildlife is very attractive, there are yellow, orange, blue and green with black spots of the individual. But don't think of him as a simple and harmless frog. The venom of one frog can kill two elephants, or 20 adults.

On the territory of South America, there have been several cases of death of people who only touched the spotted dart frog. While in captivity, this frog stops producing poison, this is due to the fact that insects that contribute to the formation of this very poison cease to enter the amphibian's diet.

The most dangerous animal of the planet Earth can rightfully be called a man. Today he is actively killing nature, destroying animals and plants.

Man destroys not only his smaller brothers, he also kills his own kind, which is clearly evidenced by numerous wars, man-made cataclysms, revolutions and other events of this kind.

He is able to resist the elements, disasters, but he cannot overcome the desire to become a leader in the race of natural selection, he defends this status in all convenient ways.

The most terrible beast of the planet is ...

Nature has created a huge number of animals, insects, amphibians and reptiles, which are dangerous not only for flora and fauna, but also for humanity. In turn, human activity also does not pass without a trace for all living things, especially if it acts destructively on all living things.

And yet it is most advisable to consider the most terrible animal of the planet of man, since people cut down forests, drain water bodies, pollute the atmosphere, and have a destructive effect on the environment. People are in debt to nature, the number of resources they have spent has long exceeded the established limit.

About children and for children

Answers to page 23

Lev Tolstoy

Scary beast

The mouse went out for a walk. I walked around the yard and came back to my mother.
- Well, mother, I saw two animals. One is scary and the other is kind.
Mother said:
- Tell me, what are these animals?
The mouse said:
- One, scary, walks around the yard like this: his legs are black, the comb is red, the nose is crocheted. When I walked by, he opened his mouth, lifted his leg and began to scream so loudly that I was very scared.
“It’s a rooster,” said the old mouse, don’t be afraid of it. Well, what about the other beast?
- Another lay in the sun and basked. His neck is white, the legs are gray, smooth, he licks his white breast and waves his tail, looks at me.
The old mouse said:
- You stupid! This is the cat itself.

1. Define the genre of this work. Specify +

+ fable fairy tale story

2. Indicate ⇒, about whom the little mouse was talking.

scary ⇒ rooster
kind ⇒ cat

3 ∗. Add your sentence.

The fable "The Terrible Beast" was written by Leo Tolstoy.

4. What was the mouse like? Indicate the answer + or write your own.

Clever + stupid experienced
+ little kind

5. Color the drawings and write down the heroes of the fable.

The cat is so cute: the breast is white, the legs are gray, smooth, it lies in the sun, it warms up - the soul rejoices. But it depends on whom. Everyone knows that there is no beast worse than a cat for a mouse. But the mouse, which is from the fable "Terrible beast" - is stupid, saw a beast with a good-looking appearance and says: "Kind, kind ...". And she was not afraid of him. But she was afraid of a loud rooster. And only the mother suggested to the silly mouse whom one really should be afraid of. Appearances are sometimes deceiving ...

"Scary Beast"

The mouse went out for a walk. I walked around the yard and came back to my mother.

Well, mother, I saw two animals. One is scary and the other is kind.

Mother said:

Tell me, what kind of animals are they?

The mouse said:

One, scary, walks around the yard like this: his legs are black, the crest is red, his eyes are protruding, his nose is crocheted. When I walked by, he opened his mouth, lifted his leg and began to scream so loudly that I did not know where to go from fear.

This is a rooster, - said the old mouse. - He does no harm to anyone, do not be afraid of him. Well, what about the other beast?

Another lay in the sun and basked. His neck is white, the legs are gray, smooth, he licks his white breast and moves his tail slightly, looks at me.

The old mouse said:

Silly girl! After all, this is the cat itself.

If there are excellent swimmers in the taiga, they are bears! Neither horses nor dogs can compare with them. The bear easily and naturally cuts the water, puffing and creating waves like a small steam boat. The expression on the face of a predator is the most innocent, well, at least take it off for a postcard! The thick skin on its face does not convey the threatening facial expressions characteristic of other predators. Barely noticeable among the thick wool, round ears are not pressed to the head, as in wolves and lynxes, other expressions of rage are also not very noticeable. It seems that it is not a beast at all, but a human-like clumsy and good-natured fat man. But with an unpredictable character ...

The fat man chasing our Robinsons crossed the source in a matter of seconds and, in order to swim to the shore, tried to overcome the log that blocked the way. Bears do not like to dive: water is poured into their ears - and therefore, puffing and grunting, he tried to climb over the log from above, tightly clasping his front paws. Everything is the last barrier between him and the guys. Now the beast will jump ashore, and there is nowhere to run away from it. Apart from the ax, there is nothing to hope for.

A log lying free on the water, under the weight of the bear's carcass, made a full turn around its axis, and the animal again found itself at its starting point. The bear tried again - the log turned again and returned the animal to its original position. A terrible roar filled the river. For the bear, this is no longer a log, but a cunning, insurmountable trap. He violently grabbed a pine bark with his fangs, and hammered it on the log with his clawed paw. Kicking the crumbs out of the bark, he repeated his unsuccessful attempts again and again and, tumbling around the log, showed the guys his wounded butt with purulent wounds. Finally, the swinging log unhooked from the bushes, the current and the breeze carried it into the flood of litter. And the bear, angry with the log, kept spinning and spinning around him - he was no longer up to the guys.

- Carried away! - Andrei said nervously, watching the log along with the acrobat disappear behind the waves.

- Exactly - carried away, - Anatoly agreed, still squeezing the ax handle with his whitened fingers. - How are we going to return? Did you see how he swatted our oblas? This is him on purpose, so as not to let us hide. Correctly calculated - now we will sunbathe on the island.

“We’ll wait until the Kalmyks arrive,” Andrei answered nonchalantly.

- We will have to wait a long time: the last families returned to the steppe this spring, only Marusya remained. Apparently, they did not like them here - they are drawn to their homeland.

- Then let's return to the dugout, maybe a steamer or a boat will pick us up.

- Have you seen at least one ship in three days? Until the water subsides, the entire fleet goes through the channel, in short it turns out. There is nothing to wait, we must get out ourselves. However, you can't even get out on a raft: it will drive you with the wind or current somewhere into the bushes and sit there crowing.

Slowly arguing, the guys trudged back to the dugout. Here is the hedge, near which they met with a moose family, a wooden trough, under which they found salt ...

- Tolya! What if we float away on the deck? There she is, how healthy!

- Need to try. To lift us, it will lift us, but it is too narrow - you can turn over.

- And we will fasten a counterweight from a log with a wire to it and make a sail from a canopy, like on a catamaran, - Andrei caught fire.

- Let's better eat first, drink some tea, and then you will draw on the sand what you have invented again. Let's figure out what and how. Now we have nowhere to hurry, - his friend cooled his ardor.

The coals at the door of the hut were still warm, and they managed to blow them up again. The bonfire began to smoke cheerfully: in order to drive away the midges, they threw rotten fish into it. Andrey took the bowler hat and went down to the water. The bear tracks had not yet disappeared, but they did not bother the guy any more: the beast is now far away. Andrey bent down to the water to scoop up the bowler, and his ear caught a strange whining sound: as if a large spade was beating against a window pane and humming tediously. The sound grew, spread and approached the hut, and soon it became clear to Andrey: a motorboat was coming. Forgetting to scoop, he jumped out onto the hillock and yelled as much urine as possible:

- Tolya! The boat is coming! Put the wood on the fire!

But there was no need for this anymore: the motorboat appeared from around the bend and headed for the hut.

- Here! To us! Hey! - the guys ran along the shore. From the motorboat they waved a cap - they noticed. Hooray!

- Gordeevskaya boat, - learned Tolya, - we were lucky, our guys.

The boat pushed its high nose into the sand and “our guys” in the amount of three jumped ashore.

- So there you are! - the eldest of the brothers, Nikolai, began in a reproachful tone, - you are resting, but in the village there is almost anxiety. Varvara Makarovna came running and asked to look along the way. We both detected the smoke and realized that it was yours. Well, how did you get it? Is there in the ear?

- They graze the bear here, not fish, - interrupted Nikolai junior, Vanyusha, having seen the footprints on the shore.

“It's not us, but he grazes us,” the guys explained.

- And you have nothing to frighten him with? From the hut through the window, you can fill it up without risk. Better than from the storage.

- We are without a gun. And we can't go back: he crushed our oblas.

- Then get on board with us. You were lucky that we went to plant potatoes, otherwise it is not yet known how long we would have to wait.

How long will the boys dive. In a minute, all the property is in the boat.

“Thank you for taking us off the island,” said Andrey.

- We do not need to thank us, but Pashka Zeroy with the board - this is because of them we have to hide a vegetable garden on the islands. If it weren't for them, didn’t we go b ...

The Gordeevs know how to make good boats! The high bow confidently cuts the water, and the boat easily runs up a gentle wave. The motor at the stern purrs loudly and evenly, shakes slightly.

Life is good! And what's especially good is that it ends well. Despite the fatigue, the children did not leave the joyful excitement, and when the mainland coast appeared in the distance, Tolya suddenly began to sing from the fullness of his feelings:

“Glorious sea, sacred Baikal, glorious ship, omul barrel! .. Do you know,” he turned to Andrey, “which animal is the most terrible in the taiga? - Person!

- Poacher! - Andrey disagreed.

Black oil slicked on the waves around the boat, and a helicopter flew overhead.

- "MI-six", - defined Andrey, - "Bear!"

Everyone looked at the helicopter.

Arkady Zakharov

How often are we people,
Without trying others to understand
We are severely judging them for something.
Himself, knowing only to forgive.

How often we stray in a flock,
We divide everyone into strangers-ours.
From us unnecessary, moving away,
Not noticing their pain.

How difficult it is if you are in a flock
For something the leader disliked.
When he pecked you,
He gestured to the sixes.

The one that was stuffed into friends,
Haste to strike first.
Yesterday he was touched by you,
Today - strives to spit!

Condemning the laws of the wolf,
So often we follow them ...

Scary prophetic dreams ...
You live without believing in predictions
But they keep viscous expectations
And you are afraid of the silence.

And you are afraid of one thing:
The moment of accomplishment will come,
Losing pain ... and regret ...
And from the past - nothing.

Pain creeps into memory sticky.
Everything that is gone will not return ...
The years have passed like a swift bird.
And bitter salt in the wound.

You no longer believe in miracles.
There are no rear areas for retreat.
Bitterness from the decision will wash over
That you agree with this yourself.

And autumn in a choir of hoarse birds
Shouts to the past ...

More terrible than a strike ... lightning
Warm - volcano ... lava
Mysterious ... "Concordia"
Your look ... a little strange

Smile ... with a crescent moon
And ripe "rye" ... longing
And under the T-shirt ... rage
Two pink ... nipples

I am intoxicated ... by the berry
(Without a miss ... hit the bow)
As you wish ... under the pagoda
Your winged ... hands

More terrible than a strike ... lightning
Warm - volcano ... lava
Mysterious ... "Concordia"
Your gaze is a little ... drunk

It's scary to live in this world
Where comfort is lacking
Early in the morning at dawn
The devils will gnaw all of us.
We do not choose the time
Where to be born, to die,
We blame friend and friend
And we are afraid to get sick.
There is a lot of vulgarity in the world
Should I beg and blame
As if it is possible for this,
Change in this life.
Every year we fight to the death
We want to become free
And in the end, the chickens laugh,
Move to tarars.
Shine of a smile, hug
My century, my rock goodbye.
Do not envy anyone.
Time is a test ...

In the suburbs, in a pedigree fur farm
Animals die in the cold.

They die, but not only from the cold.
Our smaller brothers are dying of hunger.

Sables, foxes, minks perish.
They cannot hide from the cold in a warm burrow.

The state farm was once famous.
And now - what a terrible sight!

Black sable is the adornment of kings.
The sable population is dying.

Amber sable was bred here.
He has wonderful fur, special.

Here it is, sable. He is the only one.
And death awaits him from hunger ...

On the tree high, at the very top of the head
Huge bump held at gunpoint
All those who staggered around under the tree,
And terribly wanted to fall from above.

And wild bees would not mind biting,
And the roots would have grabbed from the soil by the leg,
And the animals of the forest, hiding in ambush,
They waited for me and would have attacked from behind.

And the wind would blow without any sense,
And the snow would attack, and the rain would sprinkle
And someone would have hooted terribly over the ear,
And then he itched with an annoying fly.

I will not go into the forest, I will not step into the thicket.
I'm not ...

I had a strange dream at night;

A lot of animals played throughout the expanse of heavenly places.
A crimson cross rose above them tenderly and tenderly.
In the afternoon,
the sky was glowing with flowers,
And it was not possible to see this beauty of the ends.

There butterflies circled among the green grass,
And there was no poison anywhere. From broken walls overgrown with moss If you notice an error, select a piece of text and press Ctrl + Enter

About children and for children

Answers to page 23

Lev Tolstoy

Scary beast

1. Define the genre of this work. Specify +

+ fablefairy tale story

2. Indicate ⇒, about whom the little mouse was talking.

scary ⇒ rooster
kind ⇒ cat

3 ∗. Add your sentence.

The fable "The Terrible Beast" was written by Leo Tolstoy.

4. What was the mouse like? Indicate the answer + or write your own.

Clever + stupid experienced
+ little kind

5. Color the drawings and write down the heroes of the fable.

Artem Kamenisty

The scariest beast

All rights reserved. No part of the electronic version of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including posting on the Internet and corporate networks, for private and public use without the written permission of the copyright holder.

In the coniferous forest that covered the southern slope of Sentinel Hill from foot to top, decent bushes were rare, but here this rule was grossly violated. Dense thickets with bright green foliage, as expected at the beginning of summer, stretched in a narrow strip, forming a wall almost impenetrable to the eye. Years ago, one of the most evil autumn storms knocked down several obsolete pines, leaving huge trunks to rot and crumble into dust. An elongated clearing was formed, generously illuminated by the sun, which allowed small vegetation to rise to its full height. But this is not for long - the coniferous giants will soon take their toll, and everything they cast a shadow on is quickly withering away.

Dirt hid behind the rotten trunk of a long-fallen tree and looked down without blinking. There, behind the bushes, a suspicious movement could be seen, not in harmony with the swaying of the branches swaying by the barely noticeable gusts of the morning breeze. None of the people could get so far from the edge, the beast - that's who wanders there. Not a squirrel, and not a hare, something much larger. But it’s not an adult elk either, it wouldn’t even hide behind such thickets.

For all the inhabitants of Hennigville, with the only exception in the person of Deert, there was only one answer. And he meant the same only correct action: rush away, without stopping, without making out the road, twisting his face in a grimace of extreme horror and making serious efforts to keep his pants clean. And run in this way until the unbearable pain twists the exhausted lungs and every breath of air begins to cause unbearable suffering.

No - there is not one exception. He had forgotten about the laird Dulser. Although, frankly speaking, it is difficult to rank him among the residents of Hennigville.

As, however, and Dirt himself.

The Reverend Dagfinn is also not very afraid of the forest, although in the whole village only three know about it, including himself. But with him everything is complicated, and the traditional answer of the Hennigwilites suits him quite well.

Dirt did not like the traditional answer. He knew that more than one creature lived in this forest. Elks, bears, deer, wolves, roe deer, wild boars, hares, foxes, badgers, raccoons and others: it is easy to be convinced of their presence by fluently examining the tracks on the first trail that comes across. And once he came across the prints of the hooves of an unknown creature, apparently large. Probably - it was a bison, although Dirt was not sure of such a conclusion, he did not manage to look at the rare animal even from afar.

Traces of the demons with which the superstitious inhabitants of Hennigville so loved to frighten each other, he never met. Well maybe. But, besides him, no one dared to climb into the forest so far. But what can I say: a rare daredevil found the strength to take more than a dozen steps from the edge, and there weren't enough of them even for a pitiful fifty.

I wonder why they believe so passionately in ancient demons, if they don't even have the opportunity to look at the footprints? Laird Dalser is really right when he calls man the most paradoxical creature. After all, wisdom and stupidity often coexist peacefully in one head, dealing with different issues.

Found a fool: they will find use in Hennigville and rotten stuff, and even a baby cannot be scared by worms. No matter how you force Dirt, the Monk Dagfinn has his own opinion: what is in the village will remain there, and it does not matter if someone is against it.

He will butcher the deer on the spot, spread the hide, throw nettles on it, spread chunks of fresh meat on top of it, wrap it up properly, hang it by the corners in the shade, and then climb to the top of Sentinel Hill and rush down to the laird's house. He will examine the liver, kidneys and lungs, grimace in disgust and, very likely, that he recognizes the game as good, will not demand to throw it away. Or even allow him to take a tidbit of the carcass for his own needs, and not take almost everything to the eternally hungry Hennigwilians, because the successful hunter deserves a small prize. Then Dirt will have to return, pick up the loot and go down to the Currant stream. There, on a slope washed away by water, a good-quality smokehouse was dug for him.

At the recollection of how unbearably delicious the smoked strip of venison smelled, Dirt's stomach gurgled with impatience. The sound seemed abnormally loud. What's so strange, though? When was the last time he gorged his fill, let alone meat? It feels like never.

No, not a deer: Dirt saw the head. Gray, with a red bloom, decorated with neat branching horns.

Roe. Male.

Also nothing, although, of course, you cannot compare with a deer. The meat is not bad, but, alas, the roe deer has much less of it. But it will be easier to carry. Dirt has grown a lot over the past year, but still falls short of an adult peasant. Yes, and his physique is fragile, he is still teased with a thin one.

The fingers on the string tensed, and at that moment the breeze died down. Dirt did not move before, but here he completely froze like a stone.

Come on! Wind! Come on, blow it out! You just have to go for a walk towards the top, straight to Dirt. Morning, after all, at this time your direction rarely changes.

Change can lead to irreparable. No matter how Deert washed himself two or three times a week, surprising a filthy fellow like Frody to a laugh, the roe deer's sensitive nostrils will inevitably catch a human scent, and the nimble animal will rush down the slope in long leaps, amusingly throwing up its high croup. It is foolish to take up a bow when there is a dense interweaving of green branches between the target and you. An arrow, having hooked at least one of them, will unpredictably change direction, and you will have to say goodbye to horned meat.

And then it is not known how long you will look for an arrow: in such cases, they have a bad habit of getting lost.

Dirt prayed to the forces that sent the wind. The inhabitants of Hennigville would not approve of a prayer that smacked of paganism, but for a long time he was deeply indifferent to their opinion on almost all issues, and especially as far as the divine is concerned, in the first place.

The higher powers decided to take pity, apparently, the chorus gurgling stomachs of Hennigwil's reached heaven, preventing their inhabitants from sleeping: the foliage on the bushes fluttered, the face felt a barely noticeable movement of air. The roe deer, gnawing at the foliage and young shoots, increasingly approached a convenient opening, where nothing would interfere with the flight of the arrow. A miserable thirty-odd steps, at such a distance Deert would not miss a freshly hatched chicken. Moreover, the tip will easily hit the eye, left or right - as he chooses.

Wings flapped overhead. Having got cold, he again prayed to all the higher powers at once to relieve him of this, to spare him, not to go at such a crucial moment: it was not difficult to predict the reaction of a fearful roe deer to a sharp disturbing noise nearby.

Looks like he prayed late: the flapping of the wings subsided, and then there was a deafening crack. Dirt swiftly pulled back the bowstring, fired at the already twitching animal, after which it remained with a sad look to guide the fleeing roe deer, which did not become prey.

He raised his head, with a bad look appraised the magpie that continued to chirp. Finish the noisy creature? To avenge her vile meanness? Come on, she’ll lose another arrow. There is no need to get dirty about a stupid wretch. If she had been quiet, she could have pecked at the slimy intestines left over after skinning the carcass. Noisy white-sides love to destroy other people's nests, devouring eggs and chicks, but carrion is respected a little less than crows. And not only they, in the forest almost everyone respects her.

The arrow, having chopped off a couple of branches, buried itself up to the plumage into the rotted trunk of a long-fallen pine tree. It turned out well, I didn't have to look for long. Pulling it out carefully, Dirt checked the sharpening of the tip and the condition of the shaft, and then hid it in a quiver. He squinted at the sun. He managed to rise too high. Another unfortunate morning: he will return again without prey. Well, maybe we'll get lucky tomorrow, or something will change for the better in Henningville.

Chapter 1

No - there is not one exception. He had forgotten about the laird Dulser. Although, frankly speaking, it is difficult to rank him among the residents of Hennigville.

As, however, and Dirt himself.

No, not a deer: Dirt saw the head. Gray, with a red bloom, decorated with neat branching horns.

Roe. Male.

The fingers on the string tensed, and at that moment the breeze died down. Dirt did not move before, but here he completely froze like a stone.

Come on! Wind! Come on, blow it out! You just have to go for a walk towards the top, straight to Dirt. Morning, after all, at this time your direction rarely changes.

And then it is not known how long you will look for an arrow: in such cases, they have a bad habit of getting lost.

The summit was already near when Deert noticed the mushroom. A real porcini mushroom, I have not seen them since last year: with an excessively inflated leg and a clean, tight hat. It's a good omen - this is the first one, and he appeared for a reason, but with the aim of scouting the situation. If one got out, it means that the others will trample on the trail, they will not be afraid of the disappearance of the scout. This slope receives a lot of heat, so it is ahead of its fellows. There will be something to spice up the stew - this is much better than what you have to throw into it lately.

At the top, Dirt stopped. The forest here parted, as if fearing to approach the ancient temple: eight stone pillars arranged in a circle, narrow slabs laid on top of them, and a black altar in the middle, stained with gray lichen. If you look closely, you can see traces of ancient excavations here and there. This is Dirt, being still quite a stupid kid, he dug holes in the hope of profiting from the ancient gold.

And what would he then do with the gold he found? What a fool ...

But now Deert has grown up and has grown much wiser, so he did not even squint in the direction of his boyish experiments. He gazed steadily into the distance, at the line where the sky merged with the rich blue sea. There you could see a scattering of barely noticeable bumps. A tiny archipelago: six rocky islets, he was there once with fishermen. They then had to hastily pull the boats to the pebble beach, fleeing the approaching thunderstorm with an imminent storm. Dirt did not find anything interesting there, but from the hillock he could look even further, and there he could no longer see any signs of land: only water.

Is something moving near the nearest island? No ... hardly ... Imagined, it must be. Or from the waves of the sea, a gigantic whale showed a wet back. Where do the giant whales come from, though? Even small ones do not really like to go out into the shallow waters of the bay. For all the time, Dirt saw the hefty carcass only once, the autumn before last. She was carried to the shore in the storm, and he sniffed the stench then. The reverend, not paying attention to the sickening smell, gathered all the inhabitants and, pointing to the unintelligible gaps in the rotten flesh, explained for a long time that the sea is teeming with monsters, for whom even such a giant is nothing more than a light snack.

However, according to Dagfinn, the whole world is filled with monsters, one more terrible than the other.

Deert looked down. The Sentinel Hill descended to the sea like the carcass of a hardened bear that had come to the watering hole, eventually forming a wide promontory that covered the bay on the shore of which Hennigville was located. More than two dozen houses and three times as many sheds and sheds with walls of carelessly hewn stone and roofs, on top of clay slopes covered with green turf. There are no fences, hedges, no locks on the doors: they do not steal their own people, and there are no newcomers in the village.

Well, apart from a couple of exceptions that you can trust, almost like your own.

Despite the great distance, Dirt made out a scattering of white dots in the wide mouth of the Currant Creek. He smiled involuntarily. He knew whose turn it was to graze the geese today. I quenched my natural impulse to go there first. No - a self-respecting man should not go obediently like a lamb on the occasion of momentary desires. Yesterday there was a strong wave, who knows, maybe the sea decided to give something: the prolonged lack of fish was asking for at least some compensation.

The mood near the sea changes more often than that of a capricious girl: she will give it in the morning, take it away at noon, and even shed tears with tears. It remains to hang the bow and quiver under the stone that rested on two pillars, and you can go down. It is not worth showing up in the village with a weapon.

The sea has not been stingy today, throwing out a lot of algae and slimy jellyfish, which have not yet had time to melt in the sun. But nothing more valuable to Dirt did not come across. This did not upset him too much, because he had long since realized that he was living on the banks of the meanest curmudgeon in the world.

A competitor appeared ahead: a boy was sitting at the water's edge and raking a pile of seaweed with a stick. Coming closer, Dirt recognized Ivar, the younger Vegard's firstborn. It is strange that at once, even from afar, I did not understand who was hanging around here. Do not feed this fidget with bread, let him climb near the water. The first to run to meet the boats, you can immediately see that a real fisherman is growing.

A husky little dog was spinning around the carried away boy. Small dog, one of the many loving Tuchka puppies. That she was good for nothing, that her stupid offspring. And this one, even for decency, did not bark, Dirt came up unnoticed.

- Hi, Ivar. I have found?

- Ouch! Dirt! Don't come so quietly!

- Scared?

- Not. The boy shook his head with all his might, trying to convince mainly himself. - Where did you come from?

- I was in the forest.

- Have you seen the beast ?!

- Not. I saw a roe deer.

- Shot?

- Did not work out. What are you digging in this heap?

- I found a crab. - Invar showed a shell that had lost all its legs. By some miracle, only one claw has survived, and even that is half.

- He's dead.

- Yeah. Empty at all and does not even stink. And yesterday, Hermund pulled out of the trap a huge and alive. And the one in the boat bit Raud's toe. Till blood. I myself saw him limp and swear. Even Frody does not swear like that, although he knows more than all the bad words, and after all, Raud is always so silent. It was very funny.

The sensational news with the bitten on the finger Raud was cheerfully discussed by all Hennigwil yesterday, but it continued to be quite fresh: the boy's eyes sparkled like that.

- In the spring, after a storm, I found a board with nails. Do you remember?

- I also want to find one, the iron will be useful to us.

"Were you allowed to go that far?"

- Yes. Father himself said to walk along the shore. Yesterday the waves were high, maybe the trunk of a tree was blown out, it will go for firewood.

Dirt estimated the distance to the outskirts of the village and pointed to the forest, which towered over the not so steep coastal cliff:

- There are a lot of trees, let them take any.

- There are no dry ones nearby.

- It won't take long to cut down the living.

- It burns badly. - Bad, because alive and wet.

- Is the pine wet? I made fun.

- Wetter than dry.

- It dries quickly on the fly. No slower than what the sea throws away.

“Reverend Dagfinn says that living trees in the forest must never be touched. The beast gets very angry when he sees this.

Deert winced at the mention of Dagfinn. It was very difficult to argue with the saint's indisputable authority. Perhaps even impossible. Almost all Hennigwilians caught his every word, like a piece of bread in a hungry year, and sacredly believed in any nonsense that escaped from the mouth of a person serving as a guide between the deity and the faithful.

- Ivar, what trees do you think were used to build Hinnigville?

- Dry, of course.

- And where did you find so many dry and not rotten ones?

- I do not know. Probably, there were many of them before, but they cut them all down. Haven't you seen how many stumps are at the edge of the forest?

So try to argue: even among children, any opinion coincides with the opinion of the monk.

Ivar, meanwhile, abruptly changed the subject:

“Did you hear what Madi said?

- What Madi are you asking about: we have three of them.

- The younger will not say anything, because his teeth have not even erupted yet, where should he speak? He only gets dirty in return. I'm talking about Goody's son.

- If you tie a shovel to Madi's tongue, you will get an irreplaceable worker: he will not allow himself a moment of rest. How do I know what words you are talking about now, if he never stops.

“He told Kerite in the morning that he would beat you properly. Bruni told me this. Bruni, though a fool, never lies. Mom says that in order to be able to lie, you need a mind, but where will he get it from?

- And why are you spreading this to me? After all, your father is Goody's brother, and Madi, it turns out, is also your brother, only a cousin.

- Yes, that's right, cousin. But I don't like him. Apart from the cuffs, I have never seen anything from him. And he talks to me as if I just got out of the cradle. But you are normal, you are doing everything right. How to talk to an equal. Almost. Madi is half a head taller than you, he will definitely beat you, once he promised. He likes Kerita, maybe they will have a wedding.

“He will have rotten herring, not Kerita,” Dirt said sharply.

Ivar laughed with the sincere laugh of a child who doesn't care what to rejoice in: a good joke or just a finger sticking out in front of his nose.

- Oh, Dirt! Well, you said! Can I tell Madi this?

- I'll tell him myself.

- Well then he will definitely beat you.

- So, I will do two things at once.

* * *

The boat had already returned and was drying up, half pulled out onto the pebbly shore. Dirt did not ask Ivar about today's catch, and there is no point in asking: in the absence of the slightest fuss near the fish barn, everything is clear. Remembering that he himself had not gotten anything today, he grew even more gloomy and purposefully made his way to the cattle paddock. Madi is probably there, raking up manure, because yesterday he hardly had time to finish with that heap. Very well, it is in it that Dirt will bury him: there is no better place for the bastard to come up with.

Look! He wanted a wedding with Kerita. With a hog, his wedding will be dirty, a lovely couple will turn out: one is more beautiful than the other, and both masters grunt.

Alas, the fat man was not there. But this did not mean that he was not here at all. On the other side of the paddock, on the lawn plucked by cattle, was crowded almost the entire population of Hennigville. From there came Reverend Dagfinn's booming, soulful voice:

- The nets are empty for a long time, there are no crabs and sea crayfish in our traps. Spring was late, in our fields and vegetable gardens there are only seedlings, and even those are few. Why is that? What is the punishment for? You ask heaven every day. But don’t you yourself know the answer? Cursed was the day when our ships found death on the sharp stones in the bay. Death took many of us, and those who remained received this land, surrounded by a thicket, in which godless demons and terrible creatures that survived antiquity are teeming. Everyone knows that we are only guests in these accursed places, it is there that their real owners live.

Because of the crowd, Dirt could not see the reverend, but he had no doubt that at this moment he was pointing to the forest that covered Sentinel Hill.

“They are the source of all our troubles. They feed on sins and exude filthy filth. Even the fish disdain to come to our shore. What to do? Our god is too weak here and cannot always help the faithful flock. Prayers do not save ourselves, because summer has come, and we are still starving. When did this happen? The beast that owns the forest is greatly weakened. He's as hungry as the rest of us. What can you offer him? How to restore strength to a defender? There is not a handful of grain, no shriveled onion. We have nothing to support his forces, and therefore the demons grew bolder and began to invade his domain. What to do? How to be? I hate to say this, but we have only one way out: to buy off the demons.

Dirt, who had already turned around, froze and began to listen with heightened interest. He had never heard such crazy ramblings from Dagfinn. Pay off the demons? Why on earth? After all, he never uttered anything except the standard church curses against them. It's strange somehow. And it is doubly strange that there are no demons in the forest at all. Whom was he going to buy off from then? And how?

The reverend, standing up on tiptoe, stared in the direction of Dirt and shouted:

- Hey! You! Boy! Speak! Did you bring the loot from the cursed forest ?!

Dirt raised his empty hands, reluctantly shouted back:

- Game is not enough, and it is frightened. Brought nothing.

- See! Even this empty-headed atheist fails. The demons took us seriously, even scared away the game. We will pay them to keep our children alive. We'll pay this time, no matter how painful it is. Let them just leave behind. Leave us alone for a little while. And there the fish will return, we will reap a generous harvest and we will not starve.

- And what will we give them? Frody asked gruffly, irritated to the utmost by the forced sobriety of the last months.

“What do demons want?” Don't you know yourself? Sinful souls and fresh blood. Souls, even sinful ones, are the property of our Lord. All they have is blood. We will leave a cow near the forest. An old cow. I feel sorry for her, but we have no other choice.

- They'll tear it up or take it away! Sigruna gasped.

Given her chronic dullness, Dirt witnessed a case of downright brilliant foresight of the near future.

- No, - objected the reverend. “Demons don't eat meat. They will get enough of her blood and stop sending us troubles.

- And when they get hungry again, what will happen? - the agitated old woman did not calm down.

“Then we’ll leave you near the forest, you’re old, too,” the same Frody brazenly cut in and he himself burst out laughing at his own joke.

He laughed alone, the rest were serious, as if at a funeral.

Hermund, the head fisherman, asked gloomily:

- It's not my business, of course, to gossip about cows, but the conversation is about the Little Mermaid? So she's not that old, she still gives milk.

“Not enough milk,” fat Helga said in her uniquely raspy voice. “I’m better than you, you stinking herring man, I know.

- All the same, after all, it gives, albeit a little. This means that it can be reduced to a bull.

- The last time she had a dead calf. Empty womb, little milk, bad cow. The old woman shook her head.

Hermund raised his hands:

- Okay - this is your cow, you know better, stop yelling in your ear. Tie it near the forest, or drown it with a stone around your neck, it's none of my business.

“I don’t want to tie her near the forest. But I got sick of feeding the children with nettles every day. Where is your fish, Hermund? Where?! How can you go hungry while living on the shores of the generous sea ?! How?!

- Generous ?! Completely crazy in my old age ?! Don't you know that the fish has been gone for a long time? One little thing, and even that is so little that a thin cat cannot be fed. Besides, she's not mine. What am I to you, a fish shepherd? Herring owner? The cod emperor?

“So we must do as Reverend Dagfinn suggests. The demons will drink the blood and leave us alone. We will feed the children and salt the fish for future use, and then the harvest will arrive, not so long to wait.

- An unheard-of thing, to feed the god-loathing demons! - The stubborn fisherman could not calm down in any way. - Can't you give the cow to the Beast? Strength will return to him, and he will drive the demons out of the forest. Everyone knows that when he is in power, he will not let anyone into his forest. Let it be better he devours the Little Mermaid than these creatures.

The crowd laughed amicably and somehow sadly, and Frody shouted in a drunken voice:

- You could offer your stinking herring to the Beast! What a scream! The beast does not need your handouts! The beast will take it on its own if it needs to!

Dagfinn, shouting over the laughter, declared:

- We will tie the little mermaid near the far edge, there they will find her quickly.

Hearing no objection, the monk walked through the crowd, heading straight for Dirt. Approaching, with a mysterious expression on his face, he declared:

- Have you heard everything?

“We have become like the pagans,” said the monk with unexpected bitterness. - We leave the sacrifice to the demons to feed our children.

Dirt shook his head.

- The cow will die faster from old age than the demons will come for it.

- They will come. They always come. They will take what is theirs. They will take only blood, leave the meat. It's disgusting and disgusting, but then I'll let people take the meat. They need food, their children get sick.

- Will you eat up the demons ?!

- We are few, we are surrounded by terrible creatures. Sometimes you have to put up with the inevitable. Demons will take the blood, and we will take the meat. Do you understand everything, stranger?

- It's none of my business.

- Your. You live with us, do not forget this.

- We give more than we take from you.

“You don’t need to feed the children, but we do.

- Reverend, I do not understand at all what we are arguing about.

“Remember, the demons will drink the blood, and tomorrow we will have meat. Do you understand everything?

Saying this, Dagfinn disappeared around the corner of the barn. Dirt, following him with a thoughtful gaze, turned around, saw Madi in the crowd, realized that with such a crowd it was not worth starting a conflict, and set off after the monk.

He still needs to cook some stew. And it would be nice to chop wood, the stock is almost out. Or is it better to bring a bundle or two of brushwood from the forest?

No, better to chop. At the edge of the forest, soon it’s not like the branches - even the needles will not remain dry, everything is cleaned up for the hearths. After the dry forest you will have to go further, and do it in front of the Hennigwil people. And they really do not like that some boy brazenly ignores the main law and does not even feel a hint of fear. Again they will spit after, or even throw a lump of dirt. It took too long to make a detour along the coast so that no one could see, and Dirt did not like wandering with a load.

Resolved: look at the blacksmith. There is only one cleaver in the village, and he keeps it.

* * *

On the way to the forge, Dirt's nose caught an unusually rich coniferous aroma. It seems as if the nostrils were smeared with fresh resin.

The clue was quickly revealed: on the hearth in front of the entrance to the forge, Agnar was boiling a thick mass in a tiny pot, stirring it constantly. It was she who was the source of the stunning coniferous aroma.

- Well, the smell. What is it?

Agnar, ignoring the idle question, asked his own:

- Have you brought the ore?

- What ore?

- Do not pretend to be a rotten tree stump, you know perfectly well what I mean.

“But you didn’t ask to bring anything.

- Can't you figure it out yourself? When was the last time I saw ore? As soon as the snow on the peaks melted. Look around: it's summer already.

- The boys found a wreck of a boat recently, you took the nails.

- There are those nails on a couple of crappy knives. Ore is needed.

- Well, if you need it, I'll bring it. Only now I am very busy, I go hunting every morning, and it’s a long way to the swamp, it will take a whole day.

- Ore is more needed than game.

“Dagfinn thinks differently. I asked about the game myself today.

- Have you been to the meeting?

- Passed by at the very end.

- What is it that carried you for the barn?

- Madi was looking.

- And why did you need it? You don't seem to be friends.

- Yes ... I wanted to beat him properly.

- And ... Well, this is a necessary thing. What else did Dagfinn say?

- He said that at the far edge of the forest they would tie the Little Mermaid up for the night.

- This is why ?! Wants the elk to love her ?!

“He thinks the demons in the dark will come and drink her blood. And he also said that they do not eat meat, it will remain and it will be possible to take it.

- Why the Little Mermaid? Our boar is already a bit old, a young one can replace him. Better to let him tied, somehow sorry for the cow.

- I do not know. Maybe Dagfinn thinks the boar is smelly and the demons will disdain him.

- The reverend does not already know what to think. I'm starting to get bored of all this. Heard what is going on with Madi's younger namesake?

- He seems to swell.

- Exactly. Everything is from hunger. Children are the first to die, I know. So will you bring the ore?

- Talk to Dagfinn. If he says that I can not hunt for a day or two, then I'll go. I do not want to quarrel with him, he is vindictive.

- What do you want Dagfinn and quarrels with him? Swear, that's all. I say, bring the ore.

- And then he will call me a freeloader, and after him all the old women will start spitting in the back.

- Many will not spit.

“I don’t like it when they do that.

- How difficult it is to interpret with you. Okay, I'll see the reverend, I'll agree, I took yours.

- Can I take the cleaver?

- Take it. Just don’t forget to return.

Artem Kamenisty

The scariest beast

No - there is not one exception. He had forgotten about the laird Dulser. Although, frankly speaking, it is difficult to rank him among the residents of Hennigville.

As, however, and Dirt himself.

No, not a deer: Dirt saw the head. Gray, with a red bloom, decorated with neat branching horns.

Roe. Male.

The fingers on the string tensed, and at that moment the breeze died down. Dirt did not move before, but here he completely froze like a stone.

Come on! Wind! Come on, blow it out! You just have to go for a walk towards the top, straight to Dirt. Morning, after all, at this time your direction rarely changes.

And then it is not known how long you will look for an arrow: in such cases, they have a bad habit of getting lost.