As the men pored over the White Book, Andrei Pochepnya’s last moments became as clear as if man and tiger alike had been taking notes: the tiger had approached from the east—the direction of the road workers’ camp—until he paused, catching wind or sound of Pochepnya. Anticipating Pochepnya’s plans to walk downriver—perhaps by scenting the bait in his traps—the tiger turned south, traveling parallel to Pochepnya’s future path, just far enough from the river so that Pochepnya failed to notice his tracks. Then the tiger made a loop into the forest, effectively removing any trace of himself from
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