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Pressed for time over the week, me and my friend Svetlyo, nicknamed Thomson, made up our minds to go for a walk in the open on Sunday. The few hours we were intending to spend together, would be devoted todisputes and theoretical speculation over our favourite topic, ballistics. To make our pleasant walk still more enjoyable, we chose the afternoon on Palm Sunday and the less popular among visitors parts of the Mount Vitosha. Half an hour from the centre of Sofia, we left our cars and set out cl
We were returning from an exhausting hunting day.
………
The sunrise found us in the jeeps. We’d been moving towards the first ambushes.
Strangely enough for the season, there was no snow. It had been the mildest winter in my lifetime. Anyway, everything around was deep in white-frost and fog. The vehicles left us on a mountain ridge and we continued on foot. Wild boars were our main target. Judging by the tracks left behind by their hooves and snouts, the neighborhood was abundant in pigs.
The two men were walking cheerless and scared. Their clothes looked alike, shabby and worn out. They were of different age. Judging by the characteristic high cheek-bones of their faces, one could guess they were sort of relatives, most probably, a father and his son. Stoyan, the younger one, was holding an axe in his hand. Pavel, on his part, had asked a neighbour of his to lend him an old hunting rifle, loaded with two bullets. He had no other bullets with him and didn’t even know the right pe