outflank it from the right!
- Stop, I tell you!
- Hold it! - From the right,
I tell you! From the right!
Semyonov, how is it?
How's my little cow?
- I thought it belong to the
collective farm. - Well, what?
- Which was stolen. And it's yours
that was flying. - It's mine.
- Well, Kouzmich, you'll smear all with
shit. - What are you saying? What shit?
- You're under arrest!
- Do you have a pistol?
Then you're detained. All!
Come out.
Well, they're drunk!
You devils, devils.
- We must go hunting, and you drink!
- Not only drink.
Transporting a cow
by a military plane.
Kouzmich, are you serious?
Well this is old wives' tales!
There was nothing at all!
Tales or not tales, but the fact
of infringement is on hand.
- And we have found your high boots.
- What high boots? Anything to press with?
And you did involve a foreigner
into your dirty ventures.
- Cold.
- Well...
...this one to justice.
Zhenya, it seems to me
that all this has been already.
Dream, reality.
Yes, we live eternally.
Only we forget about this sometimes.
All this has been.
Wait, wait. An important
evidence has been lost. A cow.
Without it the investigation
may reach a deadlock.
- And a gun. - And the personal arm,
Makarov system pistol.
- Our task...
- Is to find my pistol!
- And...
- And...
- My cow.
- And cow!
- Zhenya, is this Russian hunting?
- This is a torment.
- That's the end. I quit drinking and
smoking. - Zhenya, is it called hunting?
- Oh, Lord, if I'd known.
- What? What?
- Yes, this is Russian national hunting.
- Kouzmich says there are no beasts here.
For our national hunting the most important
thing is the very process, and not beasts.
You are wandering and seeking.
You may do nothing but wander.
- Is this possible without vodka?
- Oh, we should like to.
- Throw the string-bag!
- The string-bag, throw!
- Throw the string-bag!
- The string bag, throw!
- Throw the string bag!
- Mikhalych, shoot!
- Climb higher, please.
- Where higher? Well, where higher?
Oh, take away the butt-stock.
Lord, where are you climbing?
Are there few trees around?
I'm indeed not a hunter,
not a hunter!
Oh Lord, why have you grabbed me?
What am I to blame?
Leave me alone, you skunk!
Leave me alone!
- Throw the string-bag. Throw
the string-bag. - Leave me alone!
No, he won't throw it.
Aha, with vodka he won't throw it.
- Semyonov... sergeant Semyonov,
fire at the beast! - Yes, sir, fire.
And fire with what?
We've lost the pistol.
Zhenya, I don't understand
the gist of this hunting.
The gist? The gist...
...is to feed and water the beast.
- That's very humanely.
Look, it's leaving.
I figure that vodka
is unnecessary here.
National tradition.
Well, why are you sitting, come down.
We were crying that you should throw
the string-bag. It has sensed vodka
and started chasing you.
So we have dropped it.
Why all of it? One bottle could be
enough to kill the hangover.
Here's Earth, I'm Semyonov.
The cargo is received, thanks.
- Not at all. Regards to the General.
- I got you.
Zhenya, When shall we begin hunting?
Now I don't know already.
Black raven, what are you hovering
Above my head?
You won't get the prey...
And it's not seen from Finland.
Black raven, I'm not yours.
Come on, come on!
Where, where? Valday,
don't you see the beast?
Valday, Valday, have you lost
the tracks? Come to me!
You, come here.
Do you see? Forward. Forward.
"The Emperor's Hunting In Rus"
Here, the idiot's dream
has come true.
Well, now all ducks are ours.
You hear, it's answering?
Come on, quick, come on! Why are you
dragging on? Mikhalych, Mikhalych.
- What scum has shot?
- Michalych, hold on.
- I'll tear off your jaws!
- Lyova, hold on.
- We're drowning, Mikhalych, why don't you
say anything? - Be quick, come on, be quick.
- Come on, be quick!
- Let's row. Jump, jump, Mikhalych!
- Drag me!
- Come on, come on.
I'll kill you!
Well, and what scum has shot?
So you've been