Deacon

My father is a geodeticist with 45 years of experience. It was in Eastern Siberia. His father led a search party several times, producing topographic footage of an untouched taiga. The party consisted of three working horses and two wicked horses. Sometimes they stayed in Thailand for months. When the provisions were coming to an end, the father obtained food with the help of an old-fashioned "tull" - twin. By the way, once one of the horses was struck by a bear, so the father only then signed off from the bureaucrats-officials, who suspected him of selling the "vehicle" to the left.
Now the story itself. For the convenience of reading from the first person.

We return after another day of filming to the camp, to our tent. I hear the smoke from the fire. Honestly, stressed, cartridges with cartridges charged: in those wild edges of a person could only be met in one case - if it is a fugitive zeck. We approach the camp. A fire is burning, a man is sitting next to him. He heals peacefully.
I look at you, you are four. Dinner was prepared for everyone. I apologize for self-government.
He got a bottle with alcohol, cooked the searchers, drank himself. He said the following.
I come from these places. I have been educated for a long time, I live in a big city, and I miss Taipei, I have no strength. This is how it turns out that every year I take a vacation – and here, in the hollow. A month on the taiga shastai, like a shatun bear. Enough until the next vacation. At work, I’m called Wild. And they don’t understand that if I didn’t fix my nerves, I might have struck somebody at all. There are no people, there is beauty.