Agosto se n’era da poco andato e aveva portato via con se i paesani emigrati che tornavano e i rari turisti che, in quegli anni, venivano in ferie a Favazzina. A goderci le ferie settembrine eravamo rimasti i soliti studenti, nell’attesa che riaprissero le scuole, e Italo il “Capotreno” inevitable with its mythical and unique umbrella.
The day was already late afternoon and me and my friends sitting on the beach for several hours now to fuck, we decided to leave and we were preparing to return home. Duck (or so it seemed), I lost, or tired of flying, perched on the surface of the sea gently rocked by the waves. Intrigued we began to observe it (none of us had ever seen a duck in Favazzina) and now someone said that this would be a good prey for a hunter.
you, regardless of our looks, he was lying on the beach and quiet seemed to have no intention of leaving. We decided to call
Pasquale "Contino", one of many hunters who were then in Favazzina, and he arrived at the beach pretty quickly confirmed that it was just a duck. Excited for the upcoming hunt, ran immediately to take the gun, recommending in the meantime not to scare her and make her escape and get into a boat. And while he was heading home I headed to Don Mimì to take the oars of the boat that was the myth of our youth. Meanwhile
The sea was slightly swollen and I eu Longu (I think it was he who had decided to come with us) we put the boat into the sea, not without some difficulty. When we saw him get approached eu Longu helped him to get on board. Easter was so decked out with rifle, bandolier, meat recalls and other accessories, that instead of hunting for a poor duck, it seemed we were going to a safari.
I started rowing and soon I took a shot duck, Pasquale standing in the bow, he ordered me to stop and shot him after he took aim, raising a myriad of projections. When everything calmed down, duck scared of fireworks, but completely unharmed, she flew, and quietly settled a couple of hundred yards off shore.
"Na pigghiai" said Pasquale
"No! Not d 'accurgimmu' eu Longu I thought after having exchanged a meaningful glance.
"Nbiciniti who stavota na sbagghiu" I urged Pasquale.
but this time I continued to row, in the approach, the suspicious duck rose in the air and walked away more or less the same distance. Pasquale then, when he seemed to be a shot fired, but always with the same results as before. The duck seemed Prendes play us and instead of running away, he got up in the air and put down every time, about the same distance.
We were now quite off, was already down tonight and the sea continued to swell. I tried to convince European Longu Pasquale to return to shore, but he took from the frenzy of the hunt continued to shoot (made out of almost all the cartridges) and to encourage people to go deeper and deeper.
The waves were growing higher and I really worried at the thought of how we were going to pull the boat ashore, I hoped very much that the duck would go away or how Biasi, when he won the ram, Pasquale was able to hit it by mistake. Then, perhaps because he became aware that the sea was swollen and because he could not swim (my age if I remember swimming with two Cucuzza by way 'of life preserver, tied at the waist) decided, reluctantly, (obviously felt offended pride as a hunter) to stop the hunt and return to shore.
return was a really difficult and we just missed that tip, luck that some of our friends were left on the beach and helped us bring down Pasquale, quite scared and soaked wet, and pull the boat to shore.
I did have time to turn around and I saw the duck and soar away to the horizon and quickly, with the night now hung, disappeared from my view, at least at that time fortunate to have met a hunter as Pasquale.
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