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Perhaps the most popular Soviet book about teenagers did not become so immediately after its first publication in 1939, but much later - in the 1960s and 70s. This was partly due to the release of the film (starring Galina Polskikh), but much more due to the properties of the story itself. It is still regularly republished, and in 2013 it was included in the list of one hundred books recommended for schoolchildren by the Ministry of Education and Science.

Psychologism and psychoanalysis

Cover of Reuben Fraerman's story “The Wild Dog Dingo, or the Tale of First Love.” Moscow, 1940"Children's Publishing House of the Komsomol Central Committee"; Russian State Children's Library

The action covers six months in the life of fourteen-year-old Tanya from a small Far Eastern town. Tanya grows up in a single-parent family: her parents separated when she was eight months old. My mother, a doctor, is constantly at work, my father lives in Moscow with his new family. A school, a pioneer camp, a vegetable garden, an old nanny - this would be the limit of life if not for first love. The Nanai boy Filka, the son of a hunter, is in love with Tanya, but Tanya does not reciprocate his feelings. Soon Tanya’s father comes to the city with his family - his second wife and adopted son Kolya. The story describes Tanya's complex relationship with her father and stepbrother - from hostility she gradually moves to love and self-sacrifice.

For Soviet and many post-Soviet readers, “The Wild Dog Dingo” remained the standard of a complex, problematic work about the lives of teenagers and their growing up. There were no schematic plots of socialist realist children's literature - reforming losers or incorrigible egoists, struggles with external enemies or glorification of the spirit of collectivism. The book described the emotional story of growing up, finding and realizing one’s own “I”.

"Lenfilm"

Over the years, critics have called the main feature of the story a more detailed depiction of teenage psychology: the conflicting emotions and thoughtless actions of the heroine, her joys, sorrows, falling in love and loneliness. Konstantin Paustovsky argued that “such a story could only have been written by a good psychologist.” But was “The Wild Dog Dingo” a book about the love of the girl Tanya for the boy Kolya? At first Tanya does not like Kolya, but then she gradually realizes how dear he is to her. Tanya’s relationship with Kolya is asymmetrical until the last moment: Kolya confesses his love to Tanya, and Tanya in response is ready to say only that she wants “Kolya to be happy.” The real catharsis in the scene of the love explanation between Tanya and Kolya occurs not when Kolya talks about his feelings and kisses Tanya, but after his father appears in the predawn forest and it is to him, and not Kolya, that Tanya says -says words of love and forgiveness. Rather, this is a story of the difficult acceptance of the very fact of divorce of parents and a father figure. At the same time as her father, Tanya begins to better understand—and accept—her own mother.

The further the story goes, the more noticeable is the author's familiarity with the ideas of psychoanalysis. In fact, Tanya’s feelings for Kolya can be interpreted as transference, or transference, which is what psychoanalysts call the phenomenon in which a person unconsciously transfers his feelings and attitude towards one person to another. The initial figure with whom the transfer can be carried out is most often the closest relatives.

The climax of the story, when Tanya saves Kolya, literally pulling him out of a deadly snowstorm in her arms, immobilized by a dislocation, is marked by an even more obvious influence of psychoanalytic theory. In almost pitch darkness, Tanya pulls the sledge with Kolya - “for a long time, not knowing where the city is, where the shore is, where the sky is” - and, having almost lost hope, suddenly sticks her face into the overcoat of her father, who went out with his soldiers in search of her daughter and adopted son: “...with her warm heart, which had been looking for her father in the whole world for so long, she felt his closeness, recognized him here, in the cold, death-threatening desert, in complete darkness.”

Still from the film “Wild Dog Dingo”, directed by Yuli Karasik. 1962"Lenfilm"

The very scene of the mortal test, in which a child or teenager, overcoming his own weakness, commits a heroic act, was very characteristic of socialist realist literature and for that branch of modernist literature that was focused on the depiction of courageous and selfless heroes, in alone against the elements For example, in the prose of Jack London or James Aldridge’s favorite story in the USSR, “The Last Inch,” although written much later than Fraerman’s story.. However, the outcome of this test—Tanya’s cathartic reconciliation with her father—turned going through the storm into a strange analogue of a psychoanalytic session.

In addition to the parallel “Kolya is the father,” there is another, no less important, parallel in the story: Tanya’s self-identification with her mother. Almost until the very last moment, Tanya does not know that her mother still loves her father, but she feels and unconsciously accepts her pain and tension. After the first sincere explanation, the daughter begins to realize the depth of her mother’s personal tragedy and, for the sake of her peace of mind, decides to make a sacrifice - leaving her hometown In the scene of Kolya and Tanya’s explanation, this identification is depicted completely openly: when going to the forest on a date, Tanya puts on her mother’s white medical coat, and her father tells her: “How much you look like your mother in this white coat!”.

Still from the film “Wild Dog Dingo”, directed by Yuli Karasik. 1962"Lenfilm"

It is not known exactly how and where Fraerman became acquainted with the ideas of psychoanalysis: perhaps he independently read Freud’s works in the 1910s, while studying at the Kharkov Institute of Technology, or already in the 1920s, when he became a journalist and writer. It is possible that there were also indirect sources here - primarily Russian modernist prose, influenced by psychoanalysis Fraerman was clearly inspired by Boris Pasternak’s story “The Childhood of Eyelets.”. Judging by some of the features of “The Wild Dog Dingo” - for example, the leitmotif of the river and flowing water, which largely structures the action (the first and last scenes of the story take place on the river bank) - Frayerman was influenced by the prose of Andrei Bely, who moved towards Freudianism was critical, but he himself constantly returned in his writings to “Oedipal” problems (this was noted by Vladislav Khodasevich in his memoir essay about Bely).

“Wild Dog Dingo” was an attempt to describe the inner biography of a teenage girl as a story of psychological overcoming - first of all, Tanya overcomes alienation from her father. There was a distinct autobiographical component to this experiment: Fraerman was having a hard time being separated from his daughter from his first marriage, Nora Kovarskaya. It turned out to be possible to defeat alienation only in extreme circumstances, on the verge of physical death. It is no coincidence that Fraerman calls the miraculous rescue from the snowstorm Tanya’s battle “for her living soul, which in the end, without any road, her father found and warmed with his own hands.” Overcoming death and the fear of death is here clearly identified with finding a father. One thing remains unclear: how the Soviet publishing and magazine system could allow a work based on the ideas of psychoanalysis, which was banned in the USSR, to be published.

Order for a school story

Still from the film “Wild Dog Dingo”, directed by Yuli Karasik. 1962"Lenfilm"

The theme of parental divorce, loneliness, the depiction of illogical and strange teenage actions - all this was completely out of the standard of children's and teenage prose of the 1930s. The publication can be partly explained by the fact that Fraerman was fulfilling a government order: in 1938, he was assigned to write a school story. From a formal point of view, he fulfilled this order: the book contains a school, teachers, and a pioneer detachment. Fraerman also fulfilled another publishing requirement formulated at the editorial meeting of Detgiz in January 1938 - to depict children's friendship and the altruistic potential inherent in this feeling. And yet this does not explain how and why a text was published that went so far beyond the scope of a traditional school story.

Scene

Still from the film “Wild Dog Dingo”, directed by Yuli Karasik. 1962"Lenfilm"

The story takes place in the Far East, presumably in the Khabarovsk Territory, on the border with China. In 1938-1939, these territories were the focus of attention of the Soviet press: first because of the armed conflict on Lake Khasan (July - September 1938), then, after the publication of the story, because of the battles near the Khalkhin Gol River, on the border with Mongolia. In both operations, the Red Army came into military conflict with the Japanese, and human losses were great.

In the same 1939, the Far East became the theme of the famous film comedy “A Girl with a Character”, as well as a popular song based on the poems of Evgeniy Dolmatovsky “The Brown Button”. Both works are united by the episode of the search and unmasking of a Japanese spy. In one case, this is done by a young girl, in another by teenagers. Fraerman did not use the same plot device: border guards are mentioned in the story; Tanya’s father, a colonel, comes to the Far East from Moscow for official purposes, but the military-strategic status of the location is no longer exploited. At the same time, the story contains many descriptions of the taiga and natural landscapes: Fraerman fought in the Far East during the Civil War and knew these places well, and in 1934 he traveled to the Far East as part of a writing delegation. It is possible that for editors and censors the geographical aspect could be a powerful argument in favor of publishing this story, which is unformatted from the point of view of socialist realist canons.

Moscow writer

Alexander Fadeev in Berlin. Photo of Roger and Renata Rössing. 1952 Deutsche Fotothek

The story was first published not as a separate publication in Detgiz, but in the venerable adult magazine Krasnaya Nov. From the beginning of the 1930s, the magazine was headed by Alexander Fadeev, with whom Fraerman was on friendly terms. Five years before the release of “The Wild Dog Dingo,” in 1934, Fadeev and Fraerman found themselves together on the same writing trip to the Khabarovsk Territory. In the episode of the Moscow writer’s arrival A writer from Moscow comes to the city, and his creative evening is held at the school. Tanya is tasked with presenting flowers to the writer. Wanting to check if she is really as pretty as they say at school, she goes to the locker room to look in the mirror, but, carried away by looking at her own face, she knocks over a bottle of ink and heavily stains her palm. It seems that catastrophe and public shame are inevitable. On the way to the hall, Tanya meets the writer and asks him not to shake hands with her, without explaining the reason. The writer plays out the scene of giving flowers in such a way that no one in the audience notices Tanya’s embarrassment and her stained palm. There is a great temptation to see an autobiographical background, that is, a depiction of Fraerman himself, but this would be a mistake. As the story says, the Moscow writer “was born in this city and even studied at this very school.” Fraerman was born and raised in Mogilev. But Fadeev really grew up in the Far East and graduated from school there. In addition, the Moscow writer spoke in a “high voice” and laughed in an even thinner voice - judging by the memoirs of contemporaries, this is exactly the voice Fadeev had.

Arriving at Tanya’s school, the writer not only helps the girl in her difficulty with her hand stained with ink, but also soulfully reads a fragment of one of his works about a son’s farewell to his father, and in his high voice Tanya hears “copper, the ringing of a trumpet, to which the stones respond." Both chapters of “Wild Dog Dingo”, dedicated to the arrival of the Moscow writer, can thus be regarded as a kind of homage to Fadeev, after which the editor-in-chief of “Krasnaya Novya” and one of the most influential officials of the Union of Soviet Writers had to pay special attention sympathize with Fraerman's new story.

Great Terror

Still from the film “Wild Dog Dingo”, directed by Yuli Karasik. 1962"Lenfilm"

The theme of the Great Terror is quite distinct in the book. The boy Kolya, the nephew of Tanya’s father’s second wife, ended up in their family for unknown reasons - he is called an orphan, but never talks about the death of his parents. Kolya is excellently educated, knows foreign languages: one can assume that his parents not only took care of his education, but were also very educated people themselves.

But that's not even the main thing. Fraerman takes a much bolder step, describing the psychological mechanisms of excluding a person rejected and punished by the authorities from the team where he was previously welcomed. Based on a complaint from one of the school teachers, an article is published in the regional newspaper that turns the real facts 180 degrees: Tanya is accused of taking her classmate Kolya ice skating just for fun, despite the snowstorm, and then Kolya was sick for a long time. After reading the article, all the students, except Kolya and Filka, turn away from Tanya, and it takes a lot of effort to justify the girl and change public opinion. It is difficult to imagine a work of Soviet adult literature from 1939 in which such an episode would appear:

“Tanya was used to always feeling her friends next to her, seeing their faces, and now seeing their backs, she was amazed.<…>...He didn’t see anything good in the locker room either. In the darkness, children were still crowding around the newspaper hangers. Tanya's books were thrown from the mirror cabinet onto the floor. And right there, on the floor, lay her baby Doshka, or doha,- a fur coat with fur in and out., given to her recently by her father. They walked along it. And no one paid attention to the cloth and beads with which it was trimmed, to its edging of badger fur, which shone underfoot like silk.<…>...Filka knelt down in the dust among the crowd, and many stepped on his toes. But still, he collected Tanya’s books and, grabbing Tanya’s little book, tried with all his might to snatch it from under his feet.”

So Tanya begins to understand that school - and society - are not ideally structured and the only thing that can protect against herd feelings is friendship and loyalty of the closest, trusted people.

Still from the film “Wild Dog Dingo”, directed by Yuli Karasik. 1962"Lenfilm"

This discovery was completely unexpected for children's literature in 1939. The orientation of the story to the Russian literary tradition of works about teenagers, associated with the culture of modernism and literature of the 1900s - early 1920s, was also unexpected.

Adolescent literature, as a rule, talks about initiation - the test that transforms a child into adults. Soviet literature of the late 1920s and 1930s usually depicted such initiation in the form of heroic deeds associated with participation in the revolution, the Civil War, collectivization or dispossession. Fraerman chose a different path: his heroine, like the teenage heroes of Russian modernist literature, goes through an internal psychological revolution associated with the awareness and re-creation of her own personality, finding herself.

The thin line was lowered into the water under a thick root that moved with every movement of the wave.

The girl was catching trout.

She sat motionless on a stone, and the river washed over her with noise. Her eyes were cast downwards. But their gaze, tired of the shine scattered everywhere over the water, was not intent. She often took him aside and directed him into the distance, where steep mountains, shaded by forest, stood above the river itself.

The air was still light, and the sky, constrained by the mountains, seemed like a plain among them, slightly illuminated by the sunset.

But neither this air, familiar to her from the first days of her life, nor this sky attracted her now.

With wide open eyes she watched the ever-flowing water, trying to imagine in her imagination those uncharted lands where and from where the river ran. She wanted to see other countries, another world, for example the Australian dingo. Then she also wanted to be a pilot and sing a little at the same time.

And she began to sing. Quiet at first, then louder.

She had a voice that was pleasant to the ear. But it was empty all around. Only the water rat, frightened by the sounds of her song, splashed close to the root and swam to the reeds, dragging a green reed into the hole. The reed was long, and the rat worked in vain, unable to pull it through the thick river grass.

The girl looked at the rat with pity and stopped singing. Then she stood up, pulling the line out of the water.

With a wave of her hand, the rat darted into the reeds, and the dark, spotted trout, which had previously been standing motionless on the light stream, jumped and went into the depths.

The girl was left alone. She looked at the sun, which was already close to sunset and was sloping towards the top of the spruce mountain. And, although it was already late, the girl was in no hurry to leave. She slowly turned on the stone and leisurely walked up the path, where a tall forest descended towards her along the gentle slope of the mountain.

She entered it boldly.

The sound of water running between the rows of stones remained behind her, and silence opened before her.

And in this age-old silence she suddenly heard the sound of a pioneer bugle. He walked along the clearing where old fir trees stood without moving their branches, and blew a trumpet in her ears, reminding her that she had to hurry.

However, the girl did not increase her pace. Having walked around a round swamp where yellow locusts grew, she bent down and, with a sharp twig, dug several pale flowers out of the ground along with the roots. Her hands were already full when behind her came the quiet noise of footsteps and a voice loudly calling her name:

She turned around. In the clearing, near a high heap of ants, the Nanai boy Filka stood and beckoned her to him with his hand. She approached, looking at him friendly.

Near Filka, on a wide stump, she saw a pot full of lingonberries. And Filka himself, using a narrow hunting knife made of Yakut steel, cleared the bark of a fresh birch twig.

Didn't you hear the bugle? - he asked. - Why aren’t you in a hurry?

She answered:

Today is parents' day. My mother cannot come - she is at the hospital at work - and no one is waiting for me at the camp. Why aren't you in a hurry? - she added with a smile.

“Today is parent’s day,” he answered in the same way as she, “and my father came to me from the camp, I went to accompany him to the spruce hill.”

Have you already done it? It's far away.

No,” Filka answered with dignity. - Why would I accompany him if he stays overnight near our camp by the river! I took a bath behind the Big Stones and went to look for you. I heard you singing loudly.

The girl looked at him and laughed. And Filka’s dark face darkened even more.

But if you’re not in a hurry,” he said, “then we’ll stay here for a while.” I'll treat you to ant juice.

You already treated me to raw fish this morning.

Yes, but it was a fish, and this is completely different. Try! - said Filka and stuck his rod into the very middle of the ant heap.

And, bending over it together, they waited a little until the thin branch, cleared of bark, was completely covered with ants. Then Filka shook them off, lightly hitting the cedar with a branch, and showed it to Tanya. Drops of formic acid were visible on the shiny sapwood. He licked it and gave it to Tanya to try. She also licked and said:

This is delicious. I've always loved ant juice.

They were silent. Tanya - because she loved to think a little about everything and remain silent every time she entered this silent forest. And Filka also didn’t want to talk about such a pure trifle as ant juice. Still, it was only juice that she could extract herself.

So they walked the entire clearing without saying a word to each other, and came out to the opposite slope of the mountain. And here, very close, under a stone cliff, all by the same river, tirelessly rushing to the sea, they saw their camp - spacious tents standing in a clearing in a row.

There was noise coming from the camp. The adults must have already gone home, and only the children were making noise. But their voices were so strong that here, above, among the silence of the gray wrinkled stones, it seemed to Tanya that somewhere far away a forest was humming and swaying.

But, no way, they are already building a line,” she said. “You should, Filka, come to camp before me, because won’t they laugh at us for coming together so often?”

“She really shouldn’t have talked about this,” Filka thought with bitter resentment.

And, grabbing a tenacious layer sticking out over the cliff, he jumped down onto the path so far that Tanya became scared.

But he didn't hurt himself. And Tanya rushed to run along another path, between low pines growing crookedly on the stones...

The path led her to a road that, like a river, ran out of the forest and, like a river, flashed its stones and rubble in her eyes and made the sound of a long bus full of people. It was the adults leaving the camp for the city.

The bus passed by. But the girl did not follow its wheels, did not look out of its windows; she did not expect to see any of her relatives in him.

She crossed the road and ran into the camp, easily jumping over ditches and hummocks, as she was agile.

The children greeted her with screams. The flag on the pole flapped right in her face. She stood in her row, placing flowers on the ground.

Counselor Kostya shook his eyes at her and said:

Tanya Sabaneeva, you have to get to the line on time. Attention! Be equal! Feel your neighbor's elbow.

Tanya spread her elbows wider, thinking: “It’s good if you have friends on the right. It's good if they are on the left. It’s good if they are both here and there.”

Turning her head to the right, Tanya saw Filka. After swimming, his face shone like stone, and his tie was dark with water.

And the counselor said to him:

Filka, what kind of a pioneer are you if every time you make swimming trunks out of a tie!.. Don’t lie, don’t lie, please! I know everything myself. Wait, I'll talk to your father seriously.

“Poor Filka,” Tanya thought, “he’s unlucky today.”

She looked to the right all the time. She didn't look to the left. Firstly, because it was not according to the rules, and secondly, because standing there was a fat girl, Zhenya, whom she did not prefer to others.

Ah, this camp, where she has spent her summer for the fifth year in a row! For some reason, today he seemed to her not as cheerful as before. But she always loved waking up in the tent at dawn, when dew dripped onto the ground from the thin thorns of the blackberries! She loved the sound of a bugle in the forest, roaring like a wapiti, and the sound of drumsticks, and sour ant juice, and songs around the fire, which she knew how to light better than anyone in the squad.

Reuben Isaevich Fraerman

Wild dog Dingo,

or The Tale of First Love

The thin line was lowered into the water under a thick root that moved with every movement of the wave.

The girl was catching trout.

She sat motionless on a stone, and the river washed over her with noise. Her eyes were cast downwards. But their gaze, tired of the shine scattered everywhere over the water, was not intent. She often took him aside and directed him into the distance, where steep mountains, shaded by forest, stood above the river itself.

The air was still light, and the sky, constrained by the mountains, seemed like a plain among them, slightly illuminated by the sunset.

But neither this air, familiar to her from the first days of her life, nor this sky attracted her now.

With wide open eyes she watched the ever-flowing water, trying to imagine in her imagination those uncharted lands where and from where the river ran. She wanted to see other countries, another world, for example the Australian dingo. Then she also wanted to be a pilot and sing a little at the same time.

And she began to sing. Quiet at first, then louder.

She had a voice that was pleasant to the ear. But it was empty all around. Only the water rat, frightened by the sounds of her song, splashed close to the root and swam to the reeds, dragging a green reed into the hole. The reed was long, and the rat worked in vain, unable to pull it through the thick river grass.

The girl looked at the rat with pity and stopped singing. Then she stood up, pulling the line out of the water.

With a wave of her hand, the rat darted into the reeds, and the dark, spotted trout, which had previously been standing motionless on the light stream, jumped and went into the depths.

The girl was left alone. She looked at the sun, which was already close to sunset and was sloping towards the top of the spruce mountain. And, although it was already late, the girl was in no hurry to leave. She slowly turned on the stone and leisurely walked up the path, where a tall forest descended towards her along the gentle slope of the mountain.

She entered it boldly.

The sound of water running between the rows of stones remained behind her, and silence opened before her.

And in this age-old silence she suddenly heard the sound of a pioneer bugle. He walked along the clearing where old fir trees stood without moving their branches, and blew a trumpet in her ears, reminding her that she had to hurry.

However, the girl did not increase her pace. Having walked around a round swamp where yellow locusts grew, she bent down and, with a sharp twig, dug several pale flowers out of the ground along with the roots. Her hands were already full when behind her came the quiet noise of footsteps and a voice loudly calling her name:

She turned around. In the clearing, near a high heap of ants, the Nanai boy Filka stood and beckoned her to him with his hand. She approached, looking at him friendly.

Near Filka, on a wide stump, she saw a pot full of lingonberries. And Filka himself, using a narrow hunting knife made of Yakut steel, cleared the bark of a fresh birch twig.

Didn't you hear the bugle? - he asked. - Why aren’t you in a hurry?

She answered:

Today is parents' day. My mother cannot come - she is at the hospital at work - and no one is waiting for me at the camp. Why aren't you in a hurry? - she added with a smile.

“Today is parent’s day,” he answered in the same way as she, “and my father came to me from the camp, I went to accompany him to the spruce hill.”

Have you already done it? It's far away.

No,” Filka answered with dignity. - Why would I accompany him if he stays overnight near our camp by the river! I took a bath behind the Big Stones and went to look for you. I heard you singing loudly.

The girl looked at him and laughed. And Filka’s dark face darkened even more.

But if you’re not in a hurry,” he said, “then we’ll stay here for a while.” I'll treat you to ant juice.

You already treated me to raw fish this morning.

Yes, but it was a fish, and this is completely different. Try! - said Filka and stuck his rod into the very middle of the ant heap.

And, bending over it together, they waited a little until the thin branch, cleared of bark, was completely covered with ants. Then Filka shook them off, lightly hitting the cedar with a branch, and showed it to Tanya. Drops of formic acid were visible on the shiny sapwood. He licked it and gave it to Tanya to try. She also licked and said:

This is delicious. I've always loved ant juice.

They were silent. Tanya - because she loved to think a little about everything and remain silent every time she entered this silent forest. And Filka also didn’t want to talk about such a pure trifle as ant juice. Still, it was only juice that she could extract herself.

So they walked the entire clearing without saying a word to each other, and came out to the opposite slope of the mountain. And here, very close, under a stone cliff, all by the same river, tirelessly rushing to the sea, they saw their camp - spacious tents standing in a clearing in a row.

There was noise coming from the camp. The adults must have already gone home, and only the children were making noise. But their voices were so strong that here, above, among the silence of the gray wrinkled stones, it seemed to Tanya that somewhere far away a forest was humming and swaying.

But, no way, they are already building a line,” she said. “You should, Filka, come to camp before me, because won’t they laugh at us for coming together so often?”

“She really shouldn’t have talked about this,” Filka thought with bitter resentment.

And, grabbing a tenacious layer sticking out over the cliff, he jumped down onto the path so far that Tanya became scared.

But he didn't hurt himself. And Tanya rushed to run along another path, between low pines growing crookedly

Fraerman Reuben

Wild Dog Dingo, or the Tale of First Love

Reuben Isaevich Fraerman

Wild dog Dingo,

or The Tale of First Love

The story "Wild Dog Dingo" has long been included in the golden fund of Soviet children's literature. This is a lyrical work, full of warmth and light, about camaraderie and friendship, about the moral maturation of teenagers.

For high school age.

The thin line was lowered into the water under a thick root that moved with every movement of the wave.

The girl was catching trout.

She sat motionless on a stone, and the river washed over her with noise. Her eyes were cast downwards. But their gaze, tired of the shine scattered everywhere over the water, was not intent. She often took him aside and directed him into the distance, where steep mountains, shaded by forest, stood above the river itself.

The air was still light, and the sky, constrained by the mountains, seemed like a plain among them, slightly illuminated by the sunset.

But neither this air, familiar to her from the first days of her life, nor this sky attracted her now.

With wide open eyes she watched the ever-flowing water, trying to imagine in her imagination those uncharted lands where and from where the river ran. She wanted to see other countries, another world, for example the Australian dingo. Then she also wanted to be a pilot and sing a little at the same time.

And she began to sing. Quiet at first, then louder.

She had a voice that was pleasant to the ear. But it was empty all around. Only the water rat, frightened by the sounds of her song, splashed close to the root and swam to the reeds, dragging a green reed into the hole. The reed was long, and the rat worked in vain, unable to pull it through the thick river grass.

The girl looked at the rat with pity and stopped singing. Then she stood up, pulling the line out of the water.

With a wave of her hand, the rat darted into the reeds, and the dark, spotted trout, which had previously been standing motionless on the light stream, jumped and went into the depths.

The girl was left alone. She looked at the sun, which was already close to sunset and was sloping towards the top of the spruce mountain. And, although it was already late, the girl was in no hurry to leave. She slowly turned on the stone and leisurely walked up the path, where a tall forest descended towards her along the gentle slope of the mountain.

She entered it boldly.

The sound of water running between the rows of stones remained behind her, and silence opened before her.

And in this age-old silence she suddenly heard the sound of a pioneer bugle. He walked along the clearing where old fir trees stood without moving their branches, and blew a trumpet in her ears, reminding her that she had to hurry.

However, the girl did not increase her pace. Having walked around a round swamp where yellow locusts grew, she bent down and, with a sharp twig, dug several pale flowers out of the ground along with the roots. Her hands were already full when behind her came the quiet noise of footsteps and a voice loudly calling her name:

She turned around. In the clearing, near a high heap of ants, the Nanai boy Filka stood and beckoned her to him with his hand. She approached, looking at him friendly.

Near Filka, on a wide stump, she saw a pot full of lingonberries. And Filka himself, using a narrow hunting knife made of Yakut steel, cleared the bark of a fresh birch twig.

Didn't you hear the bugle? - he asked. - Why aren’t you in a hurry?

She answered:

Today is parents' day. My mother cannot come - she is at the hospital at work - and no one is waiting for me at the camp. Why aren't you in a hurry? - she added with a smile.

“Today is parent’s day,” he answered in the same way as she, “and my father came to me from the camp, I went to accompany him to the spruce hill.”

Have you already done it? It's far away.

No,” Filka answered with dignity. - Why would I accompany him if he stays overnight near our camp by the river! I took a bath behind the Big Stones and went to look for you. I heard you singing loudly.

The girl looked at him and laughed. And Filka’s dark face darkened even more.

But if you’re not in a hurry,” he said, “then we’ll stay here for a while.” I'll treat you to ant juice.

You already treated me to raw fish this morning.

Yes, but it was a fish, and this is completely different. Try! - said Filka and stuck his rod into the very middle of the ant heap.

And, bending over it together, they waited a little until the thin branch, cleared of bark, was completely covered with ants. Then Filka shook them off, lightly hitting the cedar with a branch, and showed it to Tanya. Drops of formic acid were visible on the shiny sapwood. He licked it and gave it to Tanya to try. She also licked and said:

This is delicious. I've always loved ant juice.

They were silent. Tanya - because she loved to think a little about everything and remain silent every time she entered this silent forest. And Filka also didn’t want to talk about such a pure trifle as ant juice. Still, it was only juice that she could extract herself.

So they walked the entire clearing without saying a word to each other, and came out to the opposite slope of the mountain. And here, very close, under a stone cliff, all by the same river, tirelessly rushing to the sea, they saw their camp - spacious tents standing in a clearing in a row.

There was noise coming from the camp. The adults must have already gone home, and only the children were making noise. But their voices were so strong that here, above, among the silence of the gray wrinkled stones, it seemed to Tanya that somewhere far away a forest was humming and swaying.

But, no way, they are already building a line,” she said. “You should, Filka, come to camp before me, because won’t they laugh at us for coming together so often?”

“Well, she shouldn’t have talked about this,” Filka thought with bitter resentment.

And, grabbing a tenacious layer sticking out over the cliff, he jumped down onto the path so far that Tanya became scared.

But he didn't hurt himself. And Tanya rushed to run along another path, between low pines growing crookedly on the stones...

The path led her to a road that, like a river, ran out of the forest and, like a river, flashed its stones and rubble in her eyes and made the sound of a long bus full of people. It was the adults leaving the camp for the city.

The bus passed by. But the girl did not follow its wheels, did not look out of its windows; she did not expect to see any of her relatives in him.

She crossed the road and ran into the camp, easily jumping over ditches and hummocks, as she was agile.

The children greeted her with screams. The flag on the pole flapped right in her face. She stood in her row, placing flowers on the ground.

Counselor Kostya shook his eyes at her and said:

Tanya Sabaneeva, you have to get to the line on time. Attention! Be equal! Feel your neighbor's elbow.

Tanya spread her elbows wider, thinking: “It’s good if you have friends on the right. It’s good if they’re on the left. It’s good if they’re both here and there.”

Turning her head to the right, Tanya saw Filka. After swimming, his face shone like stone, and his tie was dark with water.

And the counselor said to him:

Filka, what kind of a pioneer are you if every time you make swimming trunks out of a tie!.. Don’t lie, don’t lie, please! I know everything myself. Wait, I'll talk to your father seriously.

“Poor Filka,” Tanya thought, “he’s unlucky today.”

She looked to the right all the time. She didn't look to the left. Firstly, because it was not according to the rules, and secondly, because standing there was a fat girl, Zhenya, whom she did not prefer to others.

Ah, this camp, where she has spent her summer for the fifth year in a row! For some reason, today he seemed to her not as cheerful as before. But she always loved waking up in the tent at dawn, when dew dripped onto the ground from the thin thorns of the blackberries! She loved the sound of a bugle in the forest, roaring like a wapiti, and the sound of drumsticks, and sour ant juice, and songs around the fire, which she knew how to light better than anyone in the squad.

What happened today? Did this river running to the sea inspire these strange thoughts in her? With what a vague premonition she watched her! Where did she want to go? Why did she need an Australian dingo dog? Why does she need it? Or is it just her childhood getting away from her? Who knows when it will go away!

Tanya thought about this with surprise, standing at attention on the line, and thought about it later, sitting in the dining tent at dinner. And only at the fire, which she was instructed to light, did she pull herself together.

She brought a thin birch tree from the forest, which had dried up on the ground after a storm, and placed it in the middle of the fire, and skillfully lit a fire around it.

Filka dug it in and waited until the branches took over.

And the birch tree burned without sparks, but with a slight noise, surrounded on all sides by darkness.

Children from other units came to the fire to admire. The counselor Kostya came, and the doctor with a shaved head, and even the head of the camp himself. He asked them why they didn’t sing and play, since they had such a beautiful fire.

The children sang one song, then another.

The thin line was lowered into the water under a thick root that moved with every movement of the wave.

The girl was catching trout.

She sat motionless on a stone, and the river washed over her with noise. Her eyes were cast downwards. But their gaze, tired of the shine scattered everywhere over the water, was not intent. She often took him aside and directed him into the distance, where round mountains, shaded by forest, stood above the river itself.

The air was still light, and the sky, constrained by the mountains, seemed like a plain among them, slightly illuminated by the sunset.

But neither this air, familiar to her from the first days of her life, nor this sky attracted her now.

With wide open eyes she watched the ever-flowing water, trying to imagine in her imagination those uncharted lands where and from where the river ran. She wanted to see other countries, another world, for example the Australian dingo. Then she also wanted to be a pilot and sing a little at the same time.

And she began to sing. Quiet at first, then louder.

She had a voice that was pleasant to the ear. But it was empty all around. Only the water rat, frightened by the sounds of her song, splashed close to the root and swam to the reeds, dragging a green reed into the hole. The reed was long, and the rat worked in vain, unable to pull it through the thick river grass.

The girl looked at the rat with pity and stopped singing. Then she stood up, pulling the line out of the water.

With a wave of her hand, the rat darted into the reeds, and the dark, spotted trout, which had previously been standing motionless on the light stream, jumped and went into the depths.

The girl was left alone. She looked at the sun, which was already close to sunset and was sloping towards the top of the spruce mountain. And, although it was already late, the girl was in no hurry to leave. She slowly turned on the stone and leisurely walked up the path, where a tall forest descended towards her along the gentle slope of the mountain.

She entered it boldly.

The sound of water running between the rows of stones remained behind her, and silence opened before her.

And in this age-old silence she suddenly heard the sound of a pioneer bugle. He walked along the clearing where old fir trees stood without moving their branches, and blew a trumpet in her ears, reminding her that she had to hurry.

However, the girl did not increase her pace. Having walked around a round swamp where yellow locusts grew, she bent down and, with a sharp twig, dug several pale flowers out of the ground along with the roots. Her hands were full when behind her came the quiet noise of footsteps and a voice loudly calling her name:

She turned around. In the clearing, near a high heap of ants, the Nanai boy Filka stood and beckoned her to him with his hand. She approached, looking at him friendly.

Near Filka, on a wide stump, she saw a pot full of lingonberries. And Filka himself, using a narrow hunting knife made of Yakut steel, cleared the bark of a fresh birch twig.

“Didn’t you hear the bugle?” - he asked. - Why aren’t you in a hurry?

She answered:

- Today is parents' day. My mother cannot come - she is at the hospital at work - and no one is waiting for me at the camp. Why aren't you in a hurry? – she added with a smile.

“Today is Parents’ Day,” he answered in the same way as she, “and my father came to me from the camp, I went to accompany him to the spruce hill.”

-Have you already seen him off? It's far away.

“No,” Filka answered with dignity. - Why would I accompany him if he stays overnight near our camp by the river! I took a bath behind the Big Stones and went to look for you. I heard you singing loudly.

The girl looked at him and laughed. And Filka’s dark face darkened even more.

“But if you’re not in a hurry,” he said, “then we’ll stay here for a while.” I'll treat you to ant juice.

“You already treated me to raw fish this morning.”

- Yes, but it was a fish, and this is completely different. Try! - said Filka and stuck his rod into the very middle of the ant heap.

And, bending over it together, they waited a little until the thin branch, cleared of bark, was completely covered with ants. Then Filka shook them off, lightly hitting the cedar with a branch, and showed it to Tanya. Drops of formic acid were visible on the shiny sapwood. He licked it and gave it to Tanya to try. She also licked and said:

- This is delicious. I've always loved ant juice.

They were silent. Tanya - because she loved to think a little about everything and remain silent every time she entered this silent forest. And Filka also didn’t want to talk about such a pure trifle as ant juice. Still, it was only juice that she could extract herself.

So they walked the entire clearing without saying a word to each other, and came out to the opposite slope of the mountain. And here, very close, under a stone cliff, all by the same river, tirelessly rushing to the sea, they saw their camp - spacious tents standing in a row in a clearing.

There was noise coming from the camp. The adults must have already gone home, and only the children were making noise. But their voices were so strong that here, above, among the silence of the gray wrinkled stones, it seemed to Tanya that somewhere far away a forest was humming and swaying.

“But there’s no way, they’re already building a line,” she said. “You should, Filka, come to camp before me, because won’t they laugh at us for coming together so often?”

“Well, she shouldn’t have talked about this,” Filka thought with bitter resentment.

And, grabbing a tenacious layer sticking out over the cliff, he jumped down onto the path so far that Tanya became scared.

But he didn't hurt himself. And Tanya rushed to run along another path, between low pines growing crookedly on the stones...

The path led her to a road that, like a river, ran out of the forest and, like a river, flashed its stones and rubble in her eyes and made the sound of a long bus full of people. It was the adults leaving the camp for the city. The bus passed by. But the girl did not follow its wheels, did not look through its windows: she did not expect to see any of her relatives there.

She crossed the road and ran into the camp, easily jumping over ditches and hummocks, as she was agile.

The children greeted her with screams. The flag on the pole flapped right in her face. She stood in her row, placing flowers on the ground.

Counselor Kostya shook his eyes at her and said:

– Tanya Sabaneeva, you have to get on the line on time. Attention! Be equal! Feel your neighbor's elbow.

Tanya spread her elbows wider, thinking: “It’s good if you have friends on the right. It's good if they are on the left. It’s good if they are both here and there.”

Turning her head to the right, Tanya saw Filka. After swimming, his face shone like stone, and his tie was dark with water.

And the counselor said to him:

– Filka, what kind of a pioneer are you if every time you make swimming trunks out of a tie!.. Don’t lie, don’t lie, please! I know everything myself. Wait, I'll talk to your father seriously.

“Poor Filka,” Tanya thought, “he’s unlucky today.”

She looked to the right all the time. She didn't look to the left. Firstly, because it was not according to the rules, and secondly, because standing there was a fat girl, Zhenya, whom she did not prefer to others.

Ah, this camp, where she has spent her summer for the fifth year in a row! For some reason, today he seemed to her not as cheerful as before. But she always loved waking up in the tent at dawn, when dew dripped onto the ground from the thin thorns of the blackberries! She loved the sound of a bugle in the forest, roaring like a wapiti, and the sound of drumsticks, and sour ant juice, and songs around the fire, which she knew how to light better than anyone in the squad.

What happened today? Did this river running to the sea inspire these strange thoughts in her? With what a vague premonition she watched her! Where did she want to go? Why did she need an Australian dingo dog? Why does she need it? Or is it just her childhood getting away from her? Who knows when it will go away!

Tanya thought about this with surprise, standing at attention on the line, and thought about it later, sitting in the dining tent at dinner. And only at the fire, which she was instructed to light, did she pull herself together.

She brought a thin birch tree from the forest, which had dried up on the ground after a storm, and placed it in the middle of the fire, and skillfully lit a fire around it.

Filka dug it in and waited until the branches took over.

And the birch tree burned without sparks, but with a slight noise, surrounded on all sides by darkness.

Children from other units came to the fire to admire. The counselor Kostya came, and the doctor with a shaved head, and even the head of the camp himself. He asked them why they didn’t sing and play, since they had such a beautiful fire.

The children sang one song, then another.

But Tanya didn’t want to sing.

As before at the water, she looked with wide open eyes at the fire, also always moving and constantly striving upward. Both he and he were making noise about something, bringing vague forebodings to the soul.

Filka, who could not see her sad, brought his pot of lingonberries to the fire, wanting to please her with the little he had. He treated all his comrades, but Tane chose the largest berries. They were ripe and cool, and Tanya ate them with pleasure. And Filka, seeing her cheerful again, began to talk about bears, because his father was a hunter. And who else could tell about them so well?

But Tanya interrupted him.

“I was born here, in this region and in this city, and have never been anywhere else,” she said, “but I always wondered why they talk so much about bears here.” Always about bears...

“Because there is taiga all around, and in the taiga there are a lot of bears,” answered the fat girl Zhenya, who had no imagination, but who knew how to find the right reason for everything.

Tanya looked at her thoughtfully and asked Filka if he could tell him something about the Australian dingo dog.

But Filka knew nothing about the wild dingo dog. He could talk about evil sled dogs, about huskies, but he knew nothing about the Australian dog. The other children didn’t know about her either.

And the fat girl Zhenya asked:

– Please tell me, Tanya, why do you need an Australian dingo?

But Tanya didn’t answer anything, because she really couldn’t say anything to this. She just sighed.

It was as if from this quiet sigh the birch tree, which had been burning so evenly and brightly, suddenly swayed as if alive, and collapsed, crumbling into ashes. It became dark in the circle where Tanya was sitting. The darkness came close. Everyone started making noise. And immediately a voice that no one knew came out of the darkness. It was not the voice of counselor Kostya.

He said:

- Ay-ay, friend, why are you shouting?

Someone's dark, large hand carried an armful of branches over Filka's head and threw them into the fire. These were spruce paws, which give off a lot of light and sparks that fly upward with a hum. And there, above, they do not go out soon, they burn and twinkle, like whole handfuls of stars.

The children jumped to their feet, and a man sat down by the fire. He was small in appearance, wore leather knee pads, and had a birch bark hat on his head.

- This is Filka’s father, the hunter! – Tanya shouted. “He’s spending the night here today, next to our camp.” I know him well.

The hunter sat closer to Tanya, nodded his head at her and smiled. He smiled at the other children too, showing his wide teeth, worn by the long mouthpiece of a copper tube, which he clutched tightly in his hand. Every minute he brought a coal to his pipe and puffed on it, without saying anything to anyone. But this sniffing, this quiet and peaceful sound told everyone who wanted to listen to him that there were no bad thoughts in the head of this strange hunter. And therefore, when counselor Kostya approached the fire and asked why there was a stranger in their camp, the children shouted all together:

- Don’t touch him, Kostya, this is Filka’s father, let him sit by our fire! We have fun with him!

“Yeah, so this is Filka’s father,” said Kostya. - Great! I recognize him. But, in this case, I must inform you, comrade hunter, that your son Filka constantly eats raw fish and treats it to others, for example Tanya Sabaneeva. That's one thing. And secondly, he makes himself swimming trunks from his pioneer tie and swims near the Big Stones, which was strictly forbidden to him.

Having said this, Kostya went to other fires that were burning brightly in the clearing. And since the hunter did not understand everything from what Kostya said, he looked after him with respect and, just in case, shook his head.

“Filka,” he said, “I live in a camp and hunt animals and pay money so that you can live in the city and study and be always well-fed.” But what will become of you if in just one day you have done so much evil that your bosses are complaining about you? Here's a belt for this, go into the forest and bring my deer here. He grazes close to here. I'll spend the night by your fire.

And he gave Filka a belt made of elk skin, so long that it could be thrown over the top of the tallest cedar.

Filka rose to his feet, looking at his comrades to see if anyone would share his punishment with him. Tanya felt sorry for him: after all, it was she who treated her to raw fish in the morning, and in the evening to ant juice, and, perhaps, for her sake, he swam at the Big Stones.

She jumped up from the ground and said:

- Filka, let's go. We will catch the deer and bring it to your father.

And they ran to the forest, which met them as before silently. Crossed shadows lay on the moss between the spruce trees, and the wolfberries on the bushes glistened from the light of the stars. The deer stood right there, close, under the fir tree, and ate the moss hanging from its branches. The deer was so humble that Filka didn’t even have to turn the lasso to throw it over his antlers. Tanya took the deer by the reins and led him through the dewy grass to the edge of the forest, and Filka led him to the fire.

The hunter laughed when he saw the children by the fire with the deer. He offered Tanya his pipe so that she could smoke, since he was a kind man.

But the children laughed loudly. And Filka sternly told him:

– Father, pioneers do not smoke, they are not allowed to smoke.

The hunter was very surprised. But it’s not for nothing that he pays money for his son, it’s not for nothing that the son lives in the city, goes to school and wears a red scarf around his neck. He must know things that his father doesn’t know about. And the hunter lit a cigarette himself, putting his hand on Tanya’s shoulder. And his deer breathed on her face and touched her with his antlers, which could also be tender, although they had long since hardened.

Tanya sank to the ground next to him, almost happy.

There were fires burning everywhere in the clearing, children were singing around the fires, and the doctor walked among the children, worrying about their health.

And Tanya thought with surprise:

“Really, isn’t it better than the Australian dingo?”

Why does she still want to float along the river, why does the voice of its streams beating on the stones keep ringing in her ears, and she so wants changes in life?..