As a child, I often went on vacation to my relatives in the Bauntovsky District. There, stories about the treasures sank into my memory. More precisely, about the gold that gold miners hid in the Baunt taiga. Growing up, I was seriously carried away by treasure hunting. Once on Easter, a mystical story happened to me in Bounta, told by a regular reader Andrey Potapov (name changed at the request of the author).
Before that, I was told that earlier in these parts, along with the treasure, they buried a man, a wolf or a horse so that he would erase the gold. They frightened that they heard the neighing of stallions near such places, they saw people in old clothes sitting on the ground. I didn't believe in it and laughed. Because I have never seen anything like it.
I strictly observed one omen. Since ancient times, it was believed that each treasure has its own term. The conspired (unclean) treasures supposedly change their place three times a year, they are “cleansed”. This happens on New Year's, Easter, Ivan Kupala. It was on these holidays that I tried to climb the taiga in search of gold buried by gold miners. I will say right away that I am not afraid of the forest. I went hunting with my relatives more than once, and I know what to do when meeting a beast.
Mini treasures
The incident I heard made me start looking for gold treasures in Bount. The former owner of one of the richest gold mines "Bogomdarovanny" returned to the USSR in the 30s. Allegedly, he agreed with the NKVD that he would show his treasure of four bags of gold, provided that he would be given fifty percent. Of course, the NKVD agreed. The man arrived, they took him to the taiga, where he was shot and buried in the same place where they found four bags of gold.
Undoubtedly, there were many such cases in the Bount. A lot of gold was hiding. And then not everyone was able to use their treasure. It was more profitable to hide the nuggets of gold and then sell them to dealers abroad.
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The night before Easter
From the stories of the old-timers, I learned that on Saturday evening I need to go to look for treasures by the lights that appeared. I've been looking for them for a long time. Didn't find anything. But, just in case, as advised, he took a cross, incense, a candle from Good Friday. I pronounced Sunday prayer and remembered that swearing should never be done. I walked for a long time, and when I was tired, I decided to return home. I orientate myself well in the forest, but soon I was horrified to find that I was passing by the same clearing all the time. Then I realized that I was not approaching the village, but walking along some unobtrusive path.
It leads through obstacles that are very difficult to overcome. It's hard to scare me, I am a non-believer. But I felt uneasy. Then I decided to just spend the night in the forest and look for my way in the morning when the sun rises. He lit a fire, had supper and went to sleep like a hunter near the dying fire. To be on the safe side, I put an unextinguished lantern next to me. I usually sleep soundly, without any dreams. But that night, I woke up several times from nightmares.
Nightmares
Moreover, I sometimes did not distinguish dreams from reality. It seemed to me that I was watching a strange action film with elements of a thriller from somewhere above. I saw the shadows of people. Some chased, others fled. Those who were caught were brutally killed by ripping open their bellies. Then the dead were burned. I even smelled burnt meat.
Those who could escape were hiding nearby and were afraid to give themselves away. In another dream I saw people burying some stones in the ground. I guessed that these were the gold nuggets that I was looking for.
I woke up with a headache and aches all over my body. It seemed that I myself ran through the forest all night and buried gold. Having climbed the tree, I realized where I was and found my way where to go home. I don't remember how I got there. I didn’t even celebrate Easter with my relatives, because I had a fever. The relatives were perplexed. There was no sign of a cold. I just rushed about in the heat. I still had the same nightmares. When I told my great-uncle about them, he carefully and sympathetically examined me.
- You got lost on the "path of death", where they watched and killed people leaving with gold. Do you know about this? Grandpa asked sternly. - There is nothing more to roam the taiga. Don't look for that damn gold. It's not yours.
Paths of Death
Here's what I learned from my grandfather. Taiga in the north of Buryatia has been called "golden" since tsarist times. Our republic has always been a gold mining region. Before the revolution, many gold miners were killed and robbed on the back of the taiga paths. They were called so - "paths of death". Theft of gold in the mines has always been practiced. Although they searched the earners no worse than the guards in the shops now. Nothing helped.
Russian gold miners were robbed in a more civilized way, if I may say so. They were given vodka to drink and robbed in the taverns of Barguzin and present-day Yeravna, where the old Moscow highway passed. Working most of the year in the taiga, Russian prospectors squandered everything that they earned by hard work in a few weeks or days. Sleeping after a spree in a pub, they usually found the loss of money and bags of gold sand. Of course, there have also been cases where successful miners were killed on the way home and their bodies were hidden. But the worst incidents were the robberies of Chinese seasonal workers.
Photo: popular.geo.web.ru
Pinch a pheasant
At the beginning of the twentieth century, most of the workers in the gold mines of our north were Chinese. They worked in the warm season, returning home with cold weather. Everyone knew that they were taking with them a huge amount of gold. It was believed that every Chinese worker carried away with him in the fall an average of about 100 spool valves worth about 500 rubles for that money. For comparison, the official salary was approximately 100 rubles per year.
Add to this the gold buyers from China. They not only bought nuggets and sand from the miners, but also exchanged them for alcohol and food. The dealers hid the purchased gold, waiting for an opportunity to export it from the mining sites. Not surprisingly, robberies and murders on the "paths of death" occurred in the fall, when Chinese workers returned home with money and gold.
The worst thing is that they were not just killed, but their bellies were ripped open in the hope of finding the swallowed nuggets. And for greater loyalty, the bodies of the dead were burned to find more gold in the ashes. So the killer robbers did not have to bury their victims.
Having learned such chilling details about the "paths of death", I gave up the idea of looking for hidden gold in the Baunt taiga.
