A photo from open sources Once upon a time I was talking with interesting person. Now Konstantin Semenovich runs the company, trading with Latin America, and earlier, in the 90s, he led such a lifestyle that could very well become a hero of adventure a novel. The fact is that from my own poverty my interlocutor left for Brazil, where, however, did not succeed. And here he is, changing one place work on another, has come to the point that he began to wash gold in the jungle, along with desperate guys like himself. Them managed to find really golden in the deep tributaries of the Amazon (in literally) place.
An Indian shaman came to the prospectors and convinced them that the place dangerous and it’s better to leave it – next, according to the shaman, grew a magic tree planted by the gods of the underworld, and next to it it was a suicidal venture to gratify his greed with a tree.
Of course, they did not listen to the shaman. And then they descended much less pleasant guests – bandits selling cocaine decided to put their paws on also for gold. Konstantin woke up from the shots, realized that happened, and rushed to run under machine-gun fire. He like later it turned out to be the only survivor of the miners.
It was important for the bandits to remove all the witnesses, and Konstantin pursued, letting dogs follow him. Unhappy felt that can’t run anymore – the side was scratched by a bullet, and although the wound was trifle, blood flowed, and the fugitive quickly lost strength. Konstantin without forces sank to the ground under a tree and prepared for death – he is already heard the bandits push their way through the forest. A minute from the thicket three armed killers appeared. They could shoot Constantine immediately, but not in a hurry.
The unfortunate prospector raised his head to the last time look at the sky, and saw something incredible – the branches of a tree, under with which he was set in motion. These branches were covered strange red leaves, similar in silhouette to the hands, and to they hung fruits surprisingly reminiscent of human heads.
The branches, like snakes, rushed to the ground and in a blink of an eye bandits. After a few minutes, the gangsters screams subsided, and after half an hour the branches straightened, leaving only the bones of three on the ground skeletons.
Konstantin was able to bandage the wound and get to the human housing – in Brazil he worked a few more years and excelled, but in the jungle no longer popped.
Irina Vladimirovna Trofimova, Moscow
Shamans
