This incident took place in 2003 in the Yudyg va National Reserve (in the Subpolar Urals). Once we decided to go fishing in one taiga reservoir. The places there are deaf, we got there by helicopter.
He hovered over a clearing half a meter from the ground and literally dropped us off with fishing rods and backpacks. At the helicopter we were met by the local huntsman Makarych, as everyone called him. It was he who promised us a great rest and a frenzied, as he put it, bite in those places. Makarych placed us in a hunting lodge, and after the evening bath we began to make grandiose plans for morning fishing.
However, the morning of the next day greeted us with cold gloomy autumn rain and gusty wind. The weather was clearly not conducive to fishing. Not that a grandiose, even weak bite was not to be expected. Yes, it's not in vain that we trudged so far? I had to go fishing despite the weather. And of course the fishing was completely unsuccessful: for the whole day we caught all (and there were ten of us) only a few grayling and one small pike.
- Is this your promised mad bite? - we sickened, returning in the evening to the house and laying out our meager catch in front of the huntsman.
Makarych was embarrassed, scratched his chin and said:
- Nothing. Tomorrow guys, I promise you a really good fishing trip!
At dawn, we again moved to the river. The morning turned out, in contrast to the previous one, quiet and foggy, the peace was disturbed only by the noise of the river and the rare cries of early birds. And yet, having fished before lunchtime, we returned to the base in a dejected state - the fish did not bite at all! What we caught was not even enough for the ear.
Seeing this alignment, the huntsman hid his eyes.
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“I promise you will have a great bite tonight,” he said.
Only this time no one believed him.
After lunch we went to the river again - the result is the same. No matter how hard we tried to throw the spinning rods, the grayling refused to peck at all. Despondency finally seized us. Realizing that our fishing was a fiasco, in order to cheer up a little, we decided to relax and have a drink.
Seeing that we were completely discouraged, Makarych sighed, went up to the river and began to mutter some words that looked like incantations. He lowered his hands into the water, then lifted them up and shook off the drops into the river, after which he took one fish from our catch and hung it from a tree branch. After completing this strange ritual, Makarych said that in the near future an eagle would appear in the sky and circle above us.
“Your task now is to look into the sky and not miss the appearance of the bird,” he ordered.
We were, of course, surprised, but still we stared at the sky.
“One local shaman taught me this rite,” the huntsman said meanwhile.
Imagine our surprise when an eagle really began to circle in the sky above us. Seeing this, Makarych was delighted and said:
- Well, the spirits of the river give us good. Only they have one condition - you need to take only as much fish as you can afford for food, not more. The last fish should also be hung on a tree. If not execute
this condition, the spirits of the river will be offended. They do not like greed, you must always be able to stop on time!
- Yes, Makarych no longer pour, - we grinned.
And yet, for the sake of interest, we decided to throw spinning rods. At first everything was the same as before - the fish did not go. And then all of a sudden a mad bite really started. More and more our cages were filled with fabulously beautiful grayling, pike, and perch. We were amazed! But still, our huntsman Makarych caught the most.
Of course, we ignored the huntsman's advice and continued to drag the fish one by one. Watching us greedily fill our cages, Makarych grew gloomier and gloomier. He understood that we had already exceeded our limit long ago and took much more fish than we needed to feed.
Then the huntsman took the largest grayling and hung it on a tree branch. The bite stopped immediately. Then Makarych released all the caught fish from his cage into the river. It became clear to us that the huntsman, having given away his catch, thereby decided to compensate for our greed. Still: we will leave, and Makarych will still live in those places. Why offend river spirits? After all, it is not known when their help is still needed.
Oleg Viktorovich GOLENKOV, Moscow