"L'Amour, Louis - Last_of_the_Breed38" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Amour Louis)

Climbing a promontory, he studied the country behind him. He could see no movement, nothing to indicate pursuit, although he knew it was there. He doubted whether the soldiers would persist, however, but somewhere soon he should be meeting the trappers and hunters Shepilov had sent to find him.
He descended from the rocks and made his way carefully over the bare rock of the mountain's crest. Here and there were loose slabs and patches of snow, some of them extensive.
He was working his way down a steeply sloping dome of granite when he saw them.
Three men, trappers or hunters by their look, far down the slope below him. If they looked up they would see him, unless his goatskin coat and pants appeared to them like snow. These men would be good shots, and all carried rifles.
For a moment he held himself still; then, just a little further down the slope, he saw a big, rounded boulder balanced on the slick rock face.
Carefully, he began edging closer. If that boulder fell--!
They were right beneath it and at least three hundred yards away, but at the base of a steep hillside.
He climbed down, using his hands to ease himself down in a sitting position. The rock was very slick, and at places there was ice. The three men were coming closer.
He reached the boulder, lifted his feet until he could put them high on its side, and then bracing himself against the mountainside, he pushed.
There was a moment when it only crunched slightly, and he pushed again, with all the power in his legs. The boulder teetered, crunched, and slowly began to turn over.
Ponderously, almost majestically, it began to roll over, and then suddenly, seized by the forces of gravity, it turned over and began to tumble down the slope.
It reached a drop, fell, and bounded high, and then as it began to fall, the hunters froze in place, staring up, eyes wide with horror.