Plný batoh pytláckých příběhů IV - Příběhy z beskydských hor, lesů, údolí a strání – Sobotka Richard (2013)

I had my first fawn spotted in Šlahorky. It came out every morning and evening at the same hour, as if it were tied to the young buck with a string. It had become so accustomed to the calm that it hardly paid attention. It had no idea I was lying nearby in the grass; I just had to push aside a few blades, and I had it in my sights, ready to shoot. My hands trembled like I had the chills, the crosshair danced across the trees, across the sky, refusing to settle on the fawn. Finally, I caught my breath and gained a bit of calm. I had the fawn at sixty paces. I held my breath, squinted one eye, gently moved my finger to the trigger – Bang! Finally, the shot thundered. The mountains echoed it back several times. The stock of the rifle, held carelessly in a cocky manner, nearly knocked my teeth out, hitting me hard in the shoulder. The fawn stood still, looking at me... Not even scratched. Old gamekeeper Štěpán Lukašík, once a notorious poacher, tells dramatic stories from the picturesque Beskids about poachers, gamekeepers, mountains, valleys, and the wild game he hunted and protected.