Publications
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.
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
Night and the high African grass were concealing our bending silhouettes. The quick walking pace was not giving us away thanks to the sandy sois muffling our steps. We’d been following one and the same itinerary for the second time around. Earlier that day, before sunset, the scout from the hunting camp had broken the news we’d been waiting for in the course of five days. Every evening upon sunset, the big male hippopotamus would sneak out of his den among the impenetrable reeds.