Argali hunting and how to approach him in the mountains for a gunshot. "wild" hunting for argali. Desirable hunting trophies

Two weeks before leaving to hunt in the mountains, I began to exercise myself physically, although you work in the office from morning to evening, you literally crawl out of it home, and at six in the morning you open your eyes and go back to battle ... I went as part of a group of three people. In Bishkek, we were warmly welcomed, fed and watered, we were seated in a car, and we set off to conquer space and time.

They had to hunt ibex and Marco Polo sheep. However, when we were brought to the territory bordering China, from where the ridge, which is the actual state border, was clearly visible, I already felt so strange that I was not at all in the mood for hunting. I couldn't even shoot the weapon with the guys. The heart was pounding like an electric motor with a ratchet, the often inhaled air did not bring saturation, it sparkled in the eyes, it was spinning in the head, the members became cottony, and generally vomited. My baggy torso was pumped up with antihypertensive drugs and laid in a bunk.

It must be said that the base turned out to be very comfortable, with an electric generator and satellite television, which, in the absence of civilization at an altitude of 3500 meters above a certain level, created a steady feeling of unreality. The attendants are the owner of the base Omurkul (who suggested calling him Omar for short), the driver Tolik, the guides Zhumagul (responding to Jonik, who stuck after the Americans), Rakhat and Zamir, the cook Chinara with his assistant Zhyrgal and the stoker boy Azamat, who periodically helps with the escort of hunters . People, as, indeed, the entire noticed population of Kyrgyzstan, are friendly, hospitable and extremely positive about Russian guests. The Kyrgyz language is close to Russian in the main - firstly, their alphabet is Cyrillic, and secondly, beer in Kyrgyz is pivasy. Yes, and our cuisines are similar: the same insanely delicious manti, pilaf, lagman - everything is like at home.

The first hunting "joys"

So, despite the indescribable beauty of the surrounding space, the beginning did not bode well. I was so dead that at night I felt sick on both sides, it was dark in my eyes even in the light, and if my legs obeyed anyone, it was not me.

However, by morning, the lemon slices put into the socks, and maybe some of the pills, worked - I felt almost like a “cucumber”. I even managed to have breakfast in half with grief. In general, I must say, in the mountains you always and continuously want to drink, but, on the contrary, you have to force yourself to eat. During the night we drank a liter of water prepared in advance, and yet, by the end of the trip, our lips turned into sandpaper. And in the nose, by the way, the asphalt crust was rapidly growing - sometimes it completely clogged it overnight.

To the surprise of the organizers, in the morning I took a place in the ranks, joining the younger, healthy and physically fit companions. Ammunition and equipment could give odds to circus clowns. The white mask suit largely solved the problem of camouflage in the snow, and everything else made it possible to maintain the body in a more or less acceptable temperature regime, without greatly restricting movement. The Sauer after mounting a bipod, a Docter 8-25x50 sight with parallax adjustment and ammo loading. The 300WinMag with the heaviest 220-grain bullet added to my weight about 5.5 kg. One pocket pulled off a Leica trouble-free rangefinder, the other a walkie-talkie. In the inner, a handheld with built-in GPS and a knife rested for the time being. I almost immediately gave the binoculars to one of the rangers, who undoubtedly had more chances to see the desired object on the rocks. Anton armed himself with his favorite Blazer .300WSM, and Artem armed himself with a Browning Bar caliber .30-06Spring. Having collected things and well, we piled all this splendor on undersized Kyrgyz horses and set off.

It's a pity that on the first day I had no time for photography - we were surrounded by mountains of incredible beauty.

Despite the prostration still present in my brain, I quickly adapted to my four-legged assistant. Unlike the unbroken Yakut predecessor, this red horse (like all the horses in the team) was a model of obedience. Forced to walk in a column one at a time at the closest possible distances, the horses did not kick, did not bite their brothers and people, they perfectly obeyed the occasion and hints with the rider's heels. Shaggy winter wool helped them from the February cold, they used to eat bunches of dry last year's grass, which rams and ibexes also ate. During the day, they solved the problem with water (the rivers were frozen, there was not enough imported water for horses at the base) by eating snow. And at night they together dumped somewhere in search of a watering hole. The horses, shod in winter horseshoes, were not afraid of talus, easily overcame pebbles and boulders, even confidently walked along the mirror of frozen reservoirs.

The procession, before that calmly, like a camel caravan, moving along the bottom of the "excursion" gorge, suddenly darted and pressed against the steep rock on the right. The guides spotted argali. Eleven huge stags of insane beauty were resting, lying right on the snow, about a kilometer from us. Although the first day was a sightseeing day and you won't find much in such a large team (subsequently, we each moved along our own gorge and with our huntsmen), we decided to approach the sheep men from the back of the mountain.

It turned out to be cool for horses, and we went on foot. I didn't die right away. Steps through five. Having let the whole team forward, he managed to catch his breath and moved on. Every step is a feat, every meter is a medal. Mental. Well, a little more... About in the middle of the mountain, I realized that in an upright position I was no longer able to catch my breath. Decided to sit down on some boulder. It turned out that it is better this way, and the heart calms down sooner. Began to regularly sit right in the snow.

It remains to empty three thousand buckets, and the golden key is in our pocket! While waiting for me, my friends also rested.

When there was nothing left to the horizontal platform of the ridge, the huntsmen began to signal with their hands to bend down: the “enemy” could detect. They looked out ... They lie! All eleven! The rangefinder showed 540 meters to the nearest group of three handsome men. We decided to try our luck in ... the form of volley fire at the maximum aiming distance - there is no other way out. They lay down in a row along the edge, entrenched themselves, invested and on command ...
No animals were harmed during filming! - the huntsmen who watched the "movie" cheerfully reported.

Only the ignorant think that the descent is easier than the ascent. In any case, when I got to the losharik, which suddenly became dear to my heart, I hugged him as if he were my own. Further return to the base passed without incident.

After 4200, the camp at an altitude of 3500 meters seemed like a pit. I felt better and better, and at dinner I even allowed myself a couple of glasses of Ivan Khodun. Then there was a bath. Made in a KUNG trailer, sheathed from the inside with a "lining", it was nevertheless a real bath! If not for this happiness, fueled from the outside by inexhaustible supplies of dung, I don’t even know what we would be overgrown with in a few days. But most importantly, the bath gives relaxation nervous system along with opening pores. Life went on.

Argali hunting

After a couple of days, the body finally entered the rut. Perhaps he realized that whining in favor of the poor will not work here. Of course, I spared the long-suffering motor, but I tried to keep up with my friends in nothing. Having risen in the dark, after a hasty breakfast, we sat on horseback and set off along the gorge. As it grew light, they studied the landscape through binoculars for moving objects. In the overwhelming majority of cases, these objects were female argali with children, less often - ibexes. At first, only Jonik, who accompanied me, could notice the difference, but then I myself realized that the goats are noticeably darker than the white-backed ones, with a light sheep skin.

The gorge, along which they left the base, forked like a fan only after ten kilometers, and in a few almost monotonous days I studied the first part of it almost by heart. Right in front of the fork there was a frontier post abandoned since Soviet times and a monument to the Red Commander, who once held the gorge here for more than a day from the Basmachi. Hunting adventures usually began behind this outpost.

The first happened the very next day after the collective departure. We spotted a small herd resting in a shallow saddle. In the herd there was a male with horns that fit the category of trophy ones. If there were no horses, there would be nothing to think about the approach. But we had horses, and we almost succeeded.

Having overcome nine-tenths of the way up by the method of "horse mountaineering", we left the cavalry behind the last peak and crawled further ourselves. A flock of snowcocks, having allowed us twenty paces, soared into the air with dissatisfied cries. Well, that is in the opposite direction from our goal. But the main "ambush" was waiting at the top. The position turned out to be so uncomfortable that I could not find a place from which I could catch the argali in the scope. In the end, the animals became restless and left.

I was disappointed, but at the same time, I was already grateful to them for the opportunity to observe such beautiful and graceful animals in close proximity (270 meters).

The next day turned out to be one of those few when, instead of a perfectly clear blue sky and bright sun, we saw a gray veil and sluggishly falling snow. In fact, this was not only an obstacle to hunting, but even made it possible to get closer to the vigilant object of hunting. With Dzhonik, whom I, finally ceasing to puff up, completely trusted, we found ibexes not far from the outpost. Among them was a couple of decent males. The goats walked along the opposite slope of the gorge that separated us. Leika showed about 400 m, but since they did not notice us and behaved calmly, I decided to shoot. Mindful of my “underestimation” on the first day of the hunt, I made an “eyeball” correction for a slight side wind and aimed just above the head of the nearest stag when it froze, lingering on a stone. The shot shot up a noticeable fountain a couple of centimeters above the withers, and the herd disappeared almost immediately, forcing me to use another cartridge to steal. Obviously he was reinsured in height, although he correctly guessed with the wind.

On one of the other days I witnessed a group of argali grazing. About 30 heads calmly grazed and rested. This time I saw a good horn before Jonik. The handsome man was lying almost on the edge of a fairly flat area occupied by the family. The rangefinder showed 630 m, and it was almost impossible to approach unnoticed. I would inevitably have to somehow overcome about 80 meters between bottom"our" rock and a slope under the pasture area. We decided, according to tradition, to wait, and at the same time to have lunch.

Assumptions that argali should move away were confirmed after some time. First one by one, and then all together, continuing to peacefully nibble on food, they began to move away from us. This is what was required. The pasture area was one of several that formed a plateau, bounded on one side by a rock, and on the other by a slope descending into a stream valley. Since the individual sites did not pass from one to the other uniformly, we had a chance to cross the above 80 m when the animals would hide behind the folds of the terrain. However, as soon as half of the herd disappeared into the hollow between the sites, we noticed new guests. A herd of ibexes, numbering about 70 heads, moved in the same direction as the rams. Although they did not show concern, their average speed was still higher, and by the time the last argali were out of sight, the forward goats had almost overtaken them. I had to wait again.

And yet our strategy succeeded. Passing behind the ibexes that had disappeared from view, we saw a mixed herd continuing to slowly graze and move forward. Jonik was very surprised, because he saw this for the first time. The rangefinder showed 370 meters, and I crawled like a plastuna. The grass, which my wards adored, made it difficult to shoot from low bipods. When placed on high, the trunk rested against the sky, and in order to return it to a horizontal position, one would have to get up oneself, leaning on the left elbow, and leave the right one hanging out. And so he did. All the muscles were trembling from the tension. Whom to beat? Maybe contrive and shoot through two? There is a good ibex, grazing to the right. Arkhar - to the left, on the verge of descending into a hollow. Op-pa! He stepped forward and disappeared. Where is Capricorn then? He doesn't exist either! Yes, here he is, shifted to the left ...

I aimed and tried to calm the vibration in my whole body. BAAAH! Everyone started to run! Shot again! More! All! Seven shell casings fell into the snow. Fenita la comedy. Semashov finished shooting! And what? Yes, actually, everything. The herd was successfully dispersed, and there is nothing to do here tomorrow.

There were other days without shooting at all. Capricorns and argali fooled us, we tried to deceive them. They did better.

Desirable hunting trophies

Stayed one day, Friday. By this moment, Anton had already got the coveted trophy of the magnificent argali and was resting on his laurels, however, he did not leave hope for the ibex.

The last miss completely knocked me out of the rut. The remaining five rounds would be enough for zeroing, but then with what to go for argali? On the other hand, hunting with a weapon that you are not sure about is also pointless.

And then Anton made me a truly masculine gift for February 23! He offered to exchange carbines for a while. Go!

We propose, but God disposes. We started climbing mountains. If before that, in the “home” gorges, we used at least some kind of path between these elements, even if it was a palm wide, but relatively horizontal, trampled by the hooves of these same horses, then here, on the virgin lands, they had to put their hooves on an inclined plane ... After two hours of doing such "horse mountaineering" we finally got up. Leaving the poor things, seeing how they stand, breathing heavily and all four hooves in one point, was even a pity. But who knew that this was just the beginning...

It was necessary to overcome more than five hundred meters of stone scree with a rise of about 80 degrees. Seeing all this splendor, at first I could not believe my eyes, and then everything inside broke off and turned cold. The first day's snow slide seemed like child's play compared to what was to come.

I had to work both legs and arms. The guys periodically waited for me, although it would have been incomparably more humane to shoot me. How many times on this slope have I mentally given my soul to God? Lost count. When I climbed up, I was no longer fully sure whether I was alive or already dead.

“And why did I come here at all? - the thought shot through, for a moment drowning out the beating heart in the prostate gland. “Yes, if only once more…”

Meanwhile, climbing was not an end in itself - we came here to hunt. We still had to take a position for shooting, after which the man below should quietly move the sheep at us. It’s good that there was an Antonov carbine behind my back, light as a feather compared to mine. A couple of times I grabbed large stones with my hands, when a snow peak treacherously slipped under my feet. Here is the position, between two blocks, almost like a pillbox embrasure. He lowered his white hood over his eyes, took the carbine at the ready. Ten minutes passed, twenty, thirty... It's good to lie on the top of Tibet, when the pea coat on the back, wet through with sweat, starts to let the frost inside. Through a jacket, shirt and thermal underwear. Then all the stones and unevenness of the rock begin to be felt, against which the knees and elbows rest, which, by the way, also freeze. It is undesirable to move ...

Omar (and this time he accompanied me personally) touched my shoulder:
— Look! See?

Yes, I saw. Moved by the huntsman below, the argali rose in single file towards us. They slowly reached a small platform. The next one was located 250-270 meters from me, like a kind of flat stage. In the middle of the "scene" there was a path of mutton towards my position. But the sheep lay down, obviously not intending to go further. Another huntsman was called on the walkie-talkie so that he would show them from the other side and speed up the dynamics of the process. After some time, this happened, and the rams, without hesitation, fell to the side of us, hidden by a ledge of rock. We saw them already for 500 meters on another slope. The Arkharovs were pushed again, this time by Anton, and they moved again. And again, not to me.
In the end, the herd disappeared behind the ridge, and I was left to track the situation only by the strong Russian expressions of Omar, his facial expressions and gestures. At some point, he dragged me down, right to the site where the execution place for the sheep was planned, and after it - and further down and to the left. The leader handed me a walkie-talkie, where I, not without pleasure, heard the voice of Artyom, to whom, as it turned out, all the action was open, as if in the palm of his hand, although the distances for shooting were too big. Artyom reported that the rams had made almost a full circle and were now climbing right up the opposite slope in close proximity to Omar and me. We immediately lay down behind the nearest stone and in a few moments we saw them. The rangefinder showed 350 meters exactly. I cocked the carbine, aimed at the upper edge of the shoulder blade of the second, the largest ... BAAAH! There is a hit! The handsome man tipped over, then clumsily tried to jump up. I fired again and again ... The sheep disappeared behind the crest.

Omar rushed to congratulate, but I stopped him: the beast had not yet been taken. As it turned out, the carbine was shot at 200, and, having lowered, I only shot off my leg higher elbow joint though the beast was doomed. Suddenly, the radio came to life again and reported that part of the argali, again making a semicircle, was leaving with opposite side to the platform-stage. Only now we were no longer above, but below it by 50-70 meters vertically. I reloaded the magazine and readied myself on the stone again. While I was picking up the position for the bipod, the rams appeared. The first was a big horn. I took aim and… Damn, I forgot to cock the Blazer… Didn't they leave? No, it's still here. Half-turned backwards ... Moved ... TRUST! Reloaded, but the Blazer's easy release sent the bullet into the blue sky. The last cartridge... The ram slowed down, I took a short aim... YES! Even at the time of the shot at the sight, I managed to notice that he had hit. And hit well! The beast made a forward movement by inertia and lay down. I tried to raise my head, but I couldn't, our hunting in the mountains of Kyrgyzstan was a success.

I sat down in a coma, took out a rangefinder ... 470 m. No comment. We contacted Anton by radio. It would be necessary, of course, to stop the torment of the wounded animal, but there are no cartridges. After some time, Anton, having overcome the virgin snow, raked out to the platform five meters above the ram. From such a distance, there could be no miss. Arkhar, tumbling, rolled down about ten meters and froze. At this time, the radio reported that the first wounded animal lies on the other side of the ridge. But I was already powerless. Anton went to look at him from above, and in the end he had to work "on the dobor" again. That's how our carbines became twins, his - in my hands, and mine - in his. And for the same animals ...
Trophies were lowered on horseback. Downstairs, both handsome men were dragged to one place, and we began to take pictures. Unfortunately, Anton did not succeed in “continuing the banquet” in Capricorn…

At the base we were greeted with champagne. A double holiday: February 23 is well remembered here, and two argali are not shot every day.

Mountain hunting tips:

1. With you you need to have at least "donormil" for sleep and something to supply blood to the brain, vitamins.
2. It is advisable to take a GPS-navigator of some simple and battery-powered type. This thing will show itself well in the car, with recharging and a set of maps, and in the autonomous mode, you only need to mark your path, the necessary points and coordinates. You can also use the online service puteukazatel.com, with the help of this geoservice you can quickly get a route to the right place anywhere in Russia and neighboring countries.
3. Upon arrival at the camp, the carbine must be shot on the spot.
4. Long-range shooting skills are required, as well as bottom-up and top-down shooting skills (with appropriate amendments). It is desirable that the weapon be "nailed" at 400 meters, since shots at 400-500 meters are typical, and less than 350 is pure luck. Anyone who can hit 600 consistently will be a guaranteed king of the hunt.
5. The people here are friendly, at the very least everyone speaks Russian.
6. The horses here are very good, perfectly trained. To drive enough minimal skills.

4 species of mountain sheep live in our country: arkal (steppe sheep), mouflon or chubuk ( bighorn sheep), argali (argali). Chubuk lives in the north of Russia, and the other three species live in the southern regions. Argali belong to the representatives of mountain animals. They live on high mountain slopes covered with grass. Mountain sheep are found on ridges of low height, which are located in semi-desert and steppe regions.

In summer, argali graze on relatively high altitude. IN winter time sheep migrate to low slopes. Argali feed in the morning and evening hours. And during the day, these animals lie down in shaded areas. At sunset, argali go to the watering place. In summer they can be seen in small herds. Old argali are mostly kept separately. In winter, sheep gather in a large herd of about 100 heads or more.

Argali and hunting for it
Argali is one of the largest representatives of mountain sheep. The male argali horns are a valuable trophy, they are curled into a ring and are huge. The wool of the argali is brownish-gray in color. These mountain sheep live in the mountains of Central Asia and in Kazakhstan. A large number of argali can be found in the mountains of the eastern Tien Shan and Pamir. In addition, argali live in the Tarbagatai region and Altai.

Hunting for a mountain sheep implies that the hunter must know the process of his life perfectly. In many ways, mountain sheep hunting is similar to mountain goat hunting. You need to know that argali are well camouflaged in their habitat, due to the fact that they have the appropriate color of their skin. Although large males have big weight from 100 kg to 120 kg, they can move quickly over mountainous terrain.

Not a single terrestrial predator pursues mountain sheep. To hunt argali, hunters must take climbing equipment with them. Mountain sheep during movement use any insignificant ledges on an almost vertical rock. On these ledges, the rams cannot linger, but with their help they can move perfectly. Mountain sheep are hunted from the approach or stealthily.

You can find a herd of argali along the paths in the snow. At a great distance, these trails are perfectly visible through binoculars; on the snow they are distinguished by dark lines of approaches to grazing areas. Conditions are favorable for hunting after snowfalls, then their fresh traces are visible on the snow.

The hunter needs to carefully disguise himself, because if the argali notices the hunter at least once, he will no longer let him out of his field of vision. It is better to hunt together, three of us, entering the herd from two sides. To hunt argali, you will need smoothbore guns that are loaded with bullets or buckshot.

Hunting for argali from the approach is difficult, especially in the rocky areas of the mountains. Hunters will not only have to look out for where the herds of mountain sheep are, but also move with caution near the crest of the mountains. This gives the hunters an advantage, because the animals are lower. When it is impossible to sneak up, two hunters disperse on different sides, after which they move towards each other and try to overtake the argali. One of the hunters hides in a convenient place and waits for the mountain sheep to approach within shooting distance.

In Central Asia, argali hunting is facilitated by using horses. They approach the place of parking of mountain sheep on horseback, and then, saving time and effort, they approach on foot to the place where they graze. Sometimes birds interfere with getting argali. For example, loud cries warn argali of the approach of a person. Mountain sheep have a developed sense of smell, hearing, and vision, so the hunter needs to be careful and quiet, taking into account the direction of the wind, not to make sudden and unnecessary movements.

Iv. EREMIN

We had no luck the day before. We saw a lot of fresh beds, but we didn't manage to see the goats.

Tired and hungry, we returned to the tent. The attendant treated us to fresh trout, boasting of his fishing success and joking with the unlucky "Arkharovtsy".

I could not fall asleep for a long time, and when I finally took a nap, I suddenly woke up from a clear feeling of the proximity of something living. I listened. Someone cautiously wandered around the tent. Trying not to breathe, he pushed his friends aside.

- Argali! I whispered.

We grabbed our guns and silently crawled out...

It turned out that a herd of horses was quietly grazing not far from the tent. It is the collective farm shepherds-Kazakhs who drove horses here to pasture.

“Now don’t wait for the hunt, the horses will scare away all the game,” my classmate Andrei said with annoyance.

He looked at the snowy peaks of the mountains that were vaguely shining above and suggested:

It dawned a little when we lay down behind the stones in front of a gloomy hole in a dark gorge, from where came the indistinct noise of water and a cold wave of fog crawled out. Andrey was attached somewhere nearby, but I did not see him. Chilly, shivering, I silently lay in the predawn darkness in the remote gorge of the Tien Shan. Time passed slowly.

Suddenly, a stone fell from somewhere and rolled down with a noise. I winced and listened. Nearby, the disturbed scree rustled, fading away.

I cautiously got up and immediately hid behind a stone: argali were quietly grazing in the meadow. They were at least three hundred meters away. Shooting a gun is useless, you have to crawl there.

I looked around, hoping to see Andrei, but I saw an argali: a large horned watchman stood like a marble statue on a high rock. I thought that the watchman would carry out his service carelessly and I could crawl closer to the argali. But he was mistaken: the argali stood motionless; as time went on, the heat began to flood the meadow with the same force with which the fog flooded it at dawn.

"Where is Andrey?" I thought. And as if in response to me, the horned watchman made a sharp warning sound, somewhat reminiscent of a human cry.

The argali jumped up, fearfully stretching their necks in one direction. I quickly looked over there. Nothing suspicious. But when I looked again at the rock, where the watchman had just been, I saw no one: the animals seemed to have been washed away with water.

“Tell me, please,” Andrey’s voice was suddenly heard. You can't even show them your nose.

- Missed?

- Certainly. Intelligence was easier.

We returned to the camp without a shot. Trout was boiled again, and next to the tent, horses snorted and a Kazakh shepherd sang his dreamy song.

We decided to ask the shepherds about the local places. They sat by the fire with their legs tucked under them, sucking on homemade pipes. All of them have sunburned, weather-beaten faces. On their heads are fur hats. Above a small fire was a smoky cauldron, from which a thick fragrant smell of mutton rose. Having greeted us, the senior shepherd leaned over to the cauldron, took out a large piece of meat and deftly snipped off a small piece from it with a curved knife. After chewing and deciding that the meat was not yet ready, he diligently stirred the cauldron with a stick.

We got talking. Chokan - that was the name of the senior shepherd - listened to our story about argali with a condescending, kind smile.

- Hey, hey! - he said, laughing, - and the lamb walks over there, - and pointed to the mountains.

I looked through binoculars. Several large-horned argali seemed to be frozen on the distant rocks in a strict sculptural group. Only the sharp eyes of a shepherd could see them at such a distance. The binoculars went from hand to hand. This thing, useful for hunting, finally brought us closer to the shepherds, and we soon found out where and for how long they brought horses, whether the collective farm was rich, how many animals and game were in the mountains.

We sat by the fire for a long time and learned that argali keep in inaccessible gorges, that they graze only at night, and during the day they go high into the mountains, to the snows, and lie down there. Roe deer (locally - "kiiki") also roam the high mountain pastures and only then descend into the valleys when it snows. Roe deer can be seen during the day, but it is no easier to sneak up on them than on sensitive argali. Only the cunning snow leopard manages to lie in wait for them on the mountain paths. There is also a handsome maral in the forests of the Tien Shan - a deer whose antlers contain valuable medicine in the spring ...

Yielding to our requests, Chokan agreed to take us to the mountains.

It was still night when he rode up to the tent, leading two saddled horses.

We got out of our warm sleeping bags, hurriedly dressed and set off in the cold darkness of the night towards the mountain gorges. We rode for a long time, on steep slopes clinging to the manes of the horses. At one point, Chokan hurriedly jumped to the ground.

- Here! he whispered. - You need to walk quietly, the lamb is close here.

He tied the horses in Mongolian style, with their muzzles to the saddles, and left them near large stones, took a carbine and left, ordering us to stand on our “numbers” without noise:

“You will shoot when I shoot!”

Many long, agonizing minutes passed. It was already beginning to dawn when light rustlings were heard, the crunching of grass on the teeth and a faint champing: argali appeared ahead.

Fingers greedily lay on the triggers. In the gaps in the fog, a green meadow opened up to us, connected to our massif by a narrow isthmus.

The wind pulled on us, the animals did not worry. They slowly moved towards the narrow isthmus, their path lay towards us, success was decided by patience.

The huge horned argali, separated from the herd, slowly approached the isthmus, nibbling the grass, and raised its large proud head. Its massive horns were curled into rings. Their ends stick out sharply above a powerful forehead, ready for battle. Dry sinewy legs walked lightly, carrying a huge body without difficulty. I forgot that I was not allowed to shoot first. Consciousness was captured by only one thought: where to shoot? in a shoulder blade? head-on?

The red-haired handsome man, raising his forehead, stood on the isthmus fifty meters from me, and then turned sideways, and this decided everything: I quickly aimed and fired!

A loud echo, splitting, rolled over the rocks. Arkhar, swaying, fell. Jumped up, then fell down again. And the herd, bypassing the narrow isthmus, rushed into the abyss.

I jumped out of hiding and ran to the cliff. What I saw amazed me: the argali, hitting first one wall of the abyss, then the other, like rubber balls, jumped down, going farther and farther, until they finally disappeared from sight.

Shocked by what I saw, I stood over the abyss for a long time, forgetting about the killed argali. Andrew ran up. Then an angry, frustrated Chokan appeared.

- Bad, however, you are a hunter, you shot early!

And only now I realized my mistake and was able to evaluate Chokan's strategy. He wanted to frighten the herd at us, we would return the herd under his bullets with our shots. Each of us had trophies back then.

But my only trophy still pleased us ...

According to the Department of Forest Management under the State Agency for Environmental Protection and Forestry, in the Naryn region today there are more than 8 thousand argali (Marco Polo sheep) and about 12 thousand heads of Central Asian mountain goats (ibex). However, the number of wild animals is rapidly declining, one can say in direct proportion to how hunting tourism is developing.

Locals ring bells, worried that foreign hunters with shooting permits in their hands will soon exterminate all wild animals living in the mountains. In the Naryn region, about 20 companies organize hunting for foreign tourists. According to the current legislation, one company can organize the shooting of no more than 40 individuals per year. However, according to local residents, the figures are only on paper. In practice, hunters do whatever they want.

Zharkynbek Mailybashov has been working as a shepherd in At-Bashinsky district for more than 10 years. According to him, a hunting base for foreigners has been operating in the region for three years, during which time the hunters exterminated all representatives of the bovid family, called kiyiks, in the valley:

– We stop at jailoo Shyryk. When I was little, there were a lot of kiyiks here. Then they opened a base for foreign hunters, which operated here for 3-4 years. No one controlled their activities. Now, one can say, the opportunity to see live argali or ibex is practically impossible, it is from the realm of dreams. Now the hunting base has moved to the Sook area. When all the Kiyiks are exterminated there, they will move to another place...

However, a representative of the Department of Forest Inventory in the Naryn region Malik Kurmanbaev refutes such claims. According to him, all issues of organizing hunting for foreign tourists are under control. Not a single fact of illegal shooting of wild animals by foreigners has been registered.

All these statements are not true. Foreign hunters are registered with us. Wecontrol, inwhere, when the hunt will be organized. After its completion, foreigners fill out some papers and go through a commission. After measuring the length of the horns and determining the age of the kiyik, permission is given to export the trophy. According to the law, hunting for argali is estimated at 5 thousand dollars, for ibex - 36 thousand soms. All money goes to the state budget.

Citizens of Kyrgyzstan also have the right to hunt. However, local hunters do not bother to obtain permits for money. No local resident has yet applied to the department for permission. Therefore, illegal or "wild" hunting is a common occurrence for local residents.

Recently, poachers were detained with six ibex carcasses in the At-Bashi region. According to Malik Kurmanbaev, a criminal case has been initiated and is being investigated against them:

- As part of a special raid, residents of the village of Ak-Muz were detained when they were returning from hunting. The poachers did not have permissionevenon guns. According to the current legislation, the fine for an illegally shot argali is 400,000 soms, for an ibex - 55,000 soms.

The government from time to time declares a moratorium on the hunting of mountain sheep and goats. Also, hunting activities are prohibited in the spring, when the mating season is observed for wild animals.

Translation from the Kyrgyz language, original article.