Bright morning light beam has penetrated through the half-open canopy tent, struck in the eye the man who was lying on a camp bed. The unexpectedness and intensity of light that covered them with his hand and propped himself up on one elbow. Not wide-awake and still covering his eyes, he began to look around. At a folding table beside the bed stood watch. They showed five o'clock in the morning. On the other side of the table in the same bed sleeping his neighbor. He did not interfere with light and therefore easy snuffling in his sleep.

'It is necessary to rearrange the tent – thinking man .- Otherwise, I have to get up every morning at this hour. " He sat on the bed, reached out to the crunch in the joints and began to look under the bed shoe. Obuvshis and took a towel, a man out of the tent and walked briskly to the spring. Man's name was Adam Forst. He led an archaeological expedition in the Red Sands. And while he was in his fifties, his age betrayed only graying at the temples, but the wrinkles in eye. But the vital energy that boiled up in him, enough for a dozen young people. He was in perpetual motion. When not sleeping, it was every second of something else, not knowing and not knowing what the word 'boredom'. Passionate collector and treasure hunter who dreams of finding a single thing in the world that should belong only to him.

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