Instead of the planned fifteen days, it took us twenty-two. And in the last three days, we had nothing to eat but mushrooms. Near the very end of the trail, we happened to run into a hunter. He stood there for about fifteen minutes, looking at us and slowly shaking his head. Then he turned and walked away at a brisk pace. Five hours later, he found us again, set a sack down on the ground – and disappeared back into the forest, as if he had never been there. Inside the sack were five kilos of fresh venison. God, how I love this world where one person can still be a friend to another.