A quiet summer evening in the Kyrgyz mountains. In the valley of a mountain river, on the first terrace above the floodplain, about ten tents were pitched. Near the big bright campfire you can see figures of several people sitting on improvised seats - pack boxes, buckets, logs. Cheerful conversation of young people is occasionally interrupted by explosions of general laughter. Young geologists, technicians, expedition workers discuss the past day. Quietly strumming a guitar in the hands of one of them. Someone is trying to set up a transistor.

In the tent of the head of thematic expedition two. This is the head himself - Galina Vasilyevna and Oleg Konstantinovich, a senior geologist. Both bent over the map and quietly discuss the affairs of the expedition, paying particular attention to tomorrow in the conversation. On the map, the location of the expedition camp is marked with a red circle. In different directions from him, like spider legs, broken lines of made and proposed routes diverge; black beads of observation points, selection points of geological and paleontological samples are strung on these lines. The current information is marked near the marks: the numbers of measurements of the elements of the bedding, the numbers of the selected samples, the results of special measurements. Galina Vasilyevna clearly gives instructions on the upcoming route. Oleg Konstantinovich writes them in his field book, occasionally casting glances at the young, but strict boss. After today's headache, arranged by her for the omissions of the last day of work, to speak about something else or just joke, to which he was used when he was working with the former leader of the expedition, he has no desire. “She would command a regiment,” thinks Oleg Konstantinovich, looking at how her pencil slides along the map, leaving notes. “Questions?” - Galina Vassilyevna’s voice urges him to quickly cover everything she said in her mind and find at least something that was not understood by him. But the heard instructions are so accurate and detailed that there is simply nothing obscure, as it seems to him. "Good. Repeat the task. Oleg Konstantinovich, despite the ten-year difference in years in his favor, naturally, feels timid in front of this important fair-haired woman, whose age has barely exceeded 35, but who has already managed to defend one thesis and is now preparing another. “Blue stocking!” The senior geologist reflects with hostility, looking at her undoubtedly attractive, but very tense face, even without a trace of makeup, her blond hair put in a strict head-dress at the back of her head, “How her husband lives. Probably some kind of a bitter bitterness. ” Now she, looking at him with a piercing gaze, listens as he has learned the task for tomorrow's route. “No!”, Galina Vasilyevna suddenly interrupts him. “This is not so here.” She frowns and, tapping a pencil on the map, again explains what is necessary and what should not be done tomorrow. “Write down, Oleg Konstantinovich, write down everything word for word, do not rely on memory, especially since she already let you down. Understand finally: until the end of the field season - a few weeks, we have every fine day in the account. We cannot afford to waste time on correcting old mistakes and deficiencies. ”

The senior geologist, shivering under her gaze, writes down almost stenographically everything she says, then again, this time successfully, repeats the task and, having received good, puffing out, like after a bath, gets out of the tent. Behind him goes Galina Vasilyevna herself. The faces of the staff turn to her. The boss quickly looks around the camp, recounts people around the fire. Everything is in place. The moon rises in the sky, the river habitually rustles below. The clock is exactly ten. “Tomorrow rise at five, an exit in a route at six. Senior - Oleg Konstantinovich. Tanya remains with me in the camp.It will help with the office processing of data. Good night everybody!".

Young people reluctantly rise from their homes, someone floods a fire, someone goes to the river to brush their teeth, someone smokes a cigarette. Fifteen minutes later, the last light in the tents goes out. The camp is immersed in sleep. Only the moon illuminates the temporary refuge of geologists.

It takes another ten minutes. The canopy of the tent of the expedition leader opens again, the figure of its inhabitant appears in the dark doorway. Her appearance suggests that she did not think to go to bed. She wears a former field suit - sheepskin and trousers from canvas fabric, heavy boots on her legs. For a few moments Galina Vassilyevna remains in the shadow, cast by the tent, listening to what is happening on the expedition entrusted to her. The camp is asleep: I can’t hear the slightest whisper, not a single spark of cigarette. Galina Vasilyevna looks at the gorge. There, too, nothing unusual can be seen that could alert her. But it was there, after waiting another second, that the young woman headed, very slowly and carefully at first, so as not to wake anyone up, then, moving away from the last tent by a hundred meters, she moves to a fast marching step. Less than two minutes is enough for her to reach the turn of the gorge and disappear from the eyes of Tatiana's technician, who, having slightly opened the canopy of her tent, has been watching her boss, leaving the camp at the same time in the same direction , but always returning to the site by the hour of recovery. But the fact that someone is watching her at the moment is not known to Galina Vasilyevna. Looking at her watch, she hastily leaves the old road and begins to climb a rather steep slope, trying to shorten the way. She makes the last few meters of ascent and is on a higher rocky terrace, covered with only sparse grass.

Here, two are already waiting for her - a man and a horse. The rider is a tall and, apparently, very strong, small athletic build. He has durable pants and boots, designed for long riding, windproof knitted sweater made of camel's hair, on his head to the most slanted eyes and slightly flattened nose stuck national cap. A horse to become a rider - a mighty stallion of the Kyrgyz breed.

Galina Vasilyevna cautiously approaches the mount, touches the sinewy hand, squeezing the reins. “Hello Bektash!” - her voice sounds gentle, not at all like an hour ago when she pronounced to her assistant. "You are late. The brother is already waiting for us ”- neglecting the greeting, the rider answers with a guttural voice -“ Sit down ”. He releases one leg from the stirrup. Galina Vasilyevna immediately shoved her shoe into it and, grasping for support with her hand over the bow of the saddle, easily reached the horse's croup. After a moment, the mighty horse, as if not feeling an increase in the burden, quickly carries the riders away.

The moon has finally risen and is already in full force covers the spurs of the Eastern Tien Shan. A flock of sheep grazes on a wide watershed about eight kilometers from the geologists' camp. Sheep and sheep lazily chew on scanty food. Periodically, barking of dogs is heard - healthy wolfhounds, ready to give a hard rebuff to any predator or other uninvited guest who has violated the border of the location of the flocks. The noise of the river here is almost unheard of. The cold wind rushes suddenly and just as suddenly subsides. But near the fire warm. On a wide felted felted fabric, a large, heavy man in a Kyrgyz robe is reclining. Something he is very similar to the previously described rider, racing now here with his companion. The same facial features, the same mighty figure. But he is obviously older - his head is crowned with a bald patch, gray hair gleams in the many days of stubble, and a robe also covers a noticeable belly.His narrow eyes are in motion all the time: they either glance at the dogs, who have started an altercation with their wild fellow jackals, or look at something intently away from the entrance to the gorge, then again turn to the fire.

Finally, an approaching horse tramp is heard in the distance, the dog's barking becomes joyful, as if greeting a familiar friend, and a stallion halted by the whole race flies into the circle lit by a fire. Lying slowly rises, hugs jumped from the saddle ...