A story about a journey alone along the Lena River - not far from Baikal, in October, that is, at the end of the local autumn; under snow, rain, sun; with dense forests on the banks, animated only by bears, deer, wood grouse and other inhabitants; about overnight stays, fishing, about whiskey before bed and about the loneliness that immerses a person in himself - “...Sometimes you want to agree with your loneliness. Accept it as the correct development of life, just have the courage and say to yourself: that’s all. Now everything is clear and you just have to go on alone... Maybe you can grieve a little, saying goodbye to those who seem to have been with you all these years, and no longer fearing anything... with God’s help, into the calm unknown of loneliness. It’s difficult. This is almost impossible. The river split into two channels. Efimov walked along the right, arcing around a low pebble island with small bushes. The island was elongated, in the widest part, twenty meters from the shore, sticking out... deer antlers. Ivan took a closer look. There was a look under the horns, and then Ivan saw the whole face. The red deer lay and watched Efimov, slowly turning his head. The boat was carried badly under the “comb” of a tree bent over the water, Ivan began to row away, and the animal could not stand it. He got up and began to walk at a calm trot to the far end of the island. He didn’t understand who was swimming there, he might never have seen a person at all.”