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UzbekFound here: 1259 words & 2 translates
| English | Ўзбек |
|---|---|
| It was easier in the afternoon, watching by the bank. The temperature rose, and soon the snow began to fall--dry and fine and crystalline. There was no wind, and it fell straight down, in quiet monotony. He crouched with eyes closed, his head upon his knees, keeping his watch upon the trail with his ears. But no whining of dogs, churning of sleds, nor cries of drivers broke the silence. With twilight he returned to the tent, cut a supply of firewood, ate two biscuits, and crawled into his blankets. He slept restlessly, tossing about and groaning; and at midnight he got up and ate another biscuit. | Кундуз куни пойлоқчилик осон ўтди. Ҳаво илиқлашиб, қор ёғди. Қилт этган шабада йўқ. Қор парчалари юлдузчалар каби милтиллаб ерга қўнарди. Моргансон бошини тиззалари орасига олди ва бутун вужуди қулоққа айланди. На итларининг акиллаши, на чаналар ғичир-ғичири, на уларнинг ҳайдовчилари ҳайқириғи эшитиларди. Ғира-ширада Моргансон чодирига қайтди. Ўтин майдалаб, иккита кулчани паққос туширди-ю, кўрпа остига кириб кетди. Туни билан инқиллаб, алаҳсираб чиқди. Ярим кечаси туриб яна битта кулчани еб битирди. |
| But Morganson conceived an idea. He changed his crouching spot to a place where cottonwood limbs projected on either side of him. Into these with his axe he chopped two broad notches. Then in one of the notches he rested the barrel of his rifle and glanced along the sights. He covered the trail thoroughly in that direction. He turned about, rested the rifle in the other notch, and, looking along the sights, swept the trail to the clump of trees behind which it disappeared. | Моргансоннинг хаёлига ялт этиб бир фикр келиб қолди. Дарахт шохлари ерга тегай-тегай деб турган жойга ўтди. Йўғон шохларни болта билан йўниб, тиргак учун иккита чуқур кертик ясади. Кейин милтиқни тиргакка қўйиб, йўлни кузата бошлади. Йўлнинг бир қисми унинг нишони остида эди. Моргансон милтиқни нариги тиргакка жойлади; бу вазиятда у ўрмон дўнглигигача бўлган сайҳонликни нишони остида кузата оларди. |
| He never descended to the trail. A man travelling the trail could have no knowledge of his lurking presence on the bank above. The snow surface was unbroken. There was no place where his tracks left the main trail. | Моргансон сира пастга тушмасди. Йўлда кетаётган кишининг қирғоқ юқорисида аллаким беркиниб олиб, уни кузатаётгани хаёлига ҳам келмасди. Оппоқ қор кўрпаси ҳали юмшоққина эди. Чана излари ҳеч ерда йўлдан четга чиқмаганди. |
| So it was that he conceived of the sled for which he waited. It was loaded with life, his life. His life was fading, fainting, gasping away in the tent in the snow. He was weak from lack of food, and could not travel of himself. But on the sled for which he waited were dogs that would drag him, food that would fan up the flame of his life, money that would furnish sea and sun and civilisation. Sea and sun and civilisation became terms interchangeable with life, his life, and they were loaded there on the sled for which he waited. The idea became an obsession, and he grew to think of himself as the rightful and deprived owner of the sled-load of life. | Пистирмада кўзлари тўрт бўлиб кутганча чаналар борасида шундай хаёлларга борарди. Чаналарда ҳаёт деб аталмиш неъмат бор эди, унга аталган неъмат. Унинг вужудидаги ҳаёт сўниб бораётибди. Гоҳида чодирга ташриф буюрган ўлим аскарларини қувиб солмоқда. Чалақурсоқликдан мажолсизланиб борар, сафарни давом эттиролмасди. Кўпдан бери кутаётган чаналарда унинг тириклик шамига аланга бериши мумкин бўлган егулик бор эди. Чаналарда яна муллажиринг ҳам бор эдики, улар денгиз, қуёш, тараққиётни ваъда қиларди. Денгиз, қуёш, тараққиёт – буларнинг барчаси тирикликнинг манбаи. Бу фикр унга тинчлик бермай қўйди ва аста-секин ўзини ҳаётбахш неъматлар ортилган чаналарнинг хўжайинидай ҳис эта бошлади. |
| Then there came a cold snap. The temperature went down and down--forty, fifty, sixty degrees below zero. He had no thermometer, but this he knew by the signs and natural phenomena understood by all men in that country--the crackling of water thrown on the snow, the swift sharpness of the bite of the frost, and the rapidity with which his breath froze and coated the canvas walls and roof of the tent. Vainly he fought the cold and strove to maintain his watch on the bank. In his weak condition he was an easy prey, and the frost sank its teeth deep into him before he fled away to the tent and crouched by the fire. His nose and cheeks were frozen and turned black, and his left thumb had frozen inside the mitten. He concluded that he would escape with the loss of the first joint. | Аямажиз бирдан теварак-атрофни исканжага олди – ҳаво қирқ, эллик, олтмиш даража нолдан пастга тушиб кетди. Гарчи Моргансонда термометр бўлмаса-да, бу ўлкаларда муқим яшовчилар каби у ҳам ҳаво ҳароратини теваракдаги аломатларга қараб аниқлай оларди – сувни қорга сепганингда вишиллашидан, изғириннинг бутун баданингга ниш санчишидан ёхуд иланг-биланг ўрлаётган ҳовурнинг шитоб-ла музга айланишидан, баъзан қиров сингари чодирнинг дағал матодан тикилган деворларига инишидан. Қирғоқ юқорисидаги пойлоқчилигини ташламай у аёз билан бесамар олишарди. Совуқ унинг вужудига қилич тишларини ботириб олаётганди. Бурни ва ёноқлари совуқдан қорайиб кетди, сўл панжаси бошмалдоғининг биринчи бўғимидан воз кечавериш лозимлигини қўлқопни ечмаёқ тушуниб етди. |
| When he had finished he selected a piece of meat weighing a hundred pounds, and started to drag it down to the tent. But the snow was soft, and it was too much for him. He exchanged it for a twenty-pound piece, and, with many pauses to rest, succeeded in getting it to the tent. He fried some of the meat, but ate sparingly. Then, and automatically, he went out to his crouching place on the bank. There were sled-tracks in the fresh snow on the trail. The sled-load of life had passed by while he had been cutting up the moose. | Гўштни бир ёқлик қилгач, юз қадоқ вазнли бўлагини танлаб олиб, чодир томон судраб кетмоқчи бўлди. Аммо бунинг уддасидан чиқолмади. Шунда йигирма қадоқлигини танлаб олди-да, тўхтамасдан чодирга судраб олиб келди. Бир парча гўштни қовуриб, нафсини қондирди. Кейин эса беихтиёр оёқлари ўзининг постига бошлаб кетди. Қорда янги излар пайдо бўлибди: буғу билан андармонлигида чаналар ўтган кўринади. |
| In the morning he awoke as from the sleep of death. In his ears were strange sounds. He did not know where he was, and looked about him stupidly until he caught sight of the frying-pan with the last piece of meat in it, partly eaten. Then he remembered all, and with a quick start turned his attention to the strange sounds. He sprang from the blankets with an oath. His scurvy-ravaged legs gave under him and he winced with the pain. He proceeded more slowly to put on his moccasins and leave the tent. | Эрталаб уйғониш Моргансон учун дўзах азобига айланди: уйқуси ўлимдек қаттиқ эди. Қулоғига тушуниксиз товушлар эшитилди. Қаердалигини бир зумга унутиб, товадаги гўшт бурдаларига кўзи тушмагунча аланглайверди. Яна тушуниксиз товушлар қулоғига чалингандагина барчасига тушунди; бўралаб сўкинганча ўрнидан турди. Дармонсизликдан оёқлари чалишиб кетди. Оғриқ зўридан букчайиб қолди. Кескин ҳаракат қилмасликка тиришиб чодирдан чиқди. |
| His eyes were hard and savage for a moment as he contemplated the extent of the calamity; then the old look of patience returned into them, and he began to gather together the bones well picked and gnawed. There was marrow in them, he knew; and also, here and there, as he sifted the snow, he found scraps of meat that had escaped the maws of the brutes made careless by plenty. | Шуларни тасаввуридан ўтказган Моргансоннинг нигоҳи бир онга қаҳрли тус олди; кейин яна сабр-бардош ифодаси юзага қалқди. Қиртишлаб тозаланган ва ғажиб ташланган суякларни бир ерга тўплай бошлади: ҳартугул илиги бор-ку. Қорда тимирскиланиб, қоринлари қаппайгач, бўрилар менсимай қолдириб кетган озроқ гўштни топиб олди. |
| He had learnt how to starve and live. He cleaned his rifle and counted the cartridges that remained to him. There were seven. He loaded the weapon and hobbled out to his crouching-place on the bank. All day he watched the dead trail. He watched all the week, but no life passed over it. | Моргансон очлик водийсида кун ўтказишга кўникиб қолди. Милтиқни артиб-тозалаб, бор ўқ-дорини санаб кўрди – еттита қолибди – ва ўзининг доимий постига борди. Тағин кун бўйи кимсасиз йўлга кўз тикиб, бесамар вақт ўтказди, наинки кун бўйи, балки бутун хафта мобайнида шу тарзда кунни кеч қилиб, ўзини овутиб юрди. Аксига олиб йўлда биронта тирик жон кўринмасди. |
| "You've been dead for more'n two months, now," the barkeeper explained. "You left here going south, and you never arrived at Selkirk. Where have you been?" | – Икки ойдан зиёдроқ сендан бирон хат-хабар бўлмади, – тушунтирди қовоқхона эгаси. – Бу ердан жануб томон йўл солдинг-у, Селкеркка етиб бормадинг. Қаёқларда қолиб кетдинг, ўзи? |
| "But where in hell you been keeping yourself all this time?" the barkeeper demanded. | – Жин урсин сени, қай гўрга йўқолдинг? – сўроқни давом эттирди қовоқхоначи. |
| Morganson turned his attention to Oleson. At the same time that he noted the latter running away towards Minto he noted that the dogs, coming to where the first man's body blocked the trail, had halted. Morganson fired at the fleeing man and missed, and Oleson swerved. He continued to swerve back and forth, while Morganson fired twice in rapid succession and missed both shots. Morganson stopped himself just as he was pulling the trigger again. He had fired six shots. Only one more cartridge remained, and it was in the chamber. It was imperative that he should not miss his last shot. | Моргансон бор диққат-эътиборини Ольсонга қаратди. Ольсон Минто томон жидду жаҳд-ла югурарди. Итлар эса кўндалангига узала тушиб ётган ўлик ёнига келиб тўхташди. Моргансоннинг ўқи яна хато кетди; Ольсон кескин бурилиб, дам чапга, дам ўнгга ташланарди. Моргансон унинг ортидан иккита ўқни пайдар-пай қўйиб юборди. Тегмади. Тепкини таваккал босмоқчи бўлди, лекин ўзини қўлга олди. Атиги бир дона ўқ қолибди. Бу сафар янглишишга ҳаққи йўқ. |
| Especially remarkable to Morganson was the extreme pallor of the Swede, who the preceding night had been so ruddy-faced. Now his face was like white marble. What with his fair hair and lashes he looked like a carved statue rather than something that had been a man a few minutes before. Morganson pulled off his mittens and searched the body. There was no money-belt around the waist next to the skin, nor did he find a gold-sack. In a breast pocket he lit on a small wallet. With fingers that swiftly went numb with the frost, he hurried through the contents of the wallet. There were letters with foreign stamps and postmarks on them, and several receipts and memorandum accounts, and a letter of credit for eight hundred dollars. That was all. There was no money. | Ҳаммасидан кўра Моргансонни шведнинг докадек оқарган афти ажаблантирди. Кечагина лоларзордек қип-қизил эди. Ҳозир эса мармар каби оппоқ. Оқ-сариқ сочлар ва киприклар мармар ҳайкалга муштараклик касб этмоқда. Бу одамни бир неча дақиқа илгари тирик юрганини тасаввур қилиш қийин. Моргансон жасадни тинтишга тушди. На пул чандилган белбоғ, на олтин тўла халта топилди. Парканинг* кўкрак чўнтагида чоғроқ кармон қаппайиб турибди. Ичидаги борини титкилаб кўрди – ажнабий муҳрли ва маркали мактуб, бир қанча квитанция, қандайдир ҳисоб- китоблар, маълумотномалар, саккиз юз долларга аккредитив… Бор-йўғи шу. Пулдан асар ҳам йўқ. |
| He made a movement to start back toward the sled, but found his foot rooted to the trail. He glanced down and saw that he stood in a fresh deposit of frozen red. There was red ice on his torn pants leg and on the moccasin beneath. With a quick effort he broke the frozen clutch of his blood and hobbled along the trail to the sled. The big leader that had bitten him began snarling and lunging, and was followed in this conduct by the whole team. | Моргансон чаналари ёнига қайтиб бормоқчи бўлди-ю, бироқ ўрнидан жилолмади: оёғи ерга ёпишиб қолибди. Қараса, оёғи музлаган қизил кўлмакда турганини кўрди. Бир силташ билан бу алвон муз кишандан халос бўлди ва чаналар томон ошиқди. Баҳайбат йўлбошчи ириллаб олдинга талпинар, бутун тўда унга тақлид қиларди. |
| He prowled around the sled demented, at times weeping and pleading with the brutes for his life there on the sled, at other times raging impotently against them. Then calmness came upon him. He had been making a fool of himself. All he had to do was to go to the tent, get the axe, and return and brain the dogs. He'd show them. | Ақлдан озган Моргансон чаналар теграсида тентирарди. Гоҳ ўкиниб,гоҳ ҳўнграб чаналардаги ҳаёт неъматларини итлардан ялиниб-ёлвориб сўрарди. Кейин тинчиб қолди. Қандай аҳмоқгарчилик! Ҳозир чодирга бориб, болтани олиб келади-да, итларнинг бошини мажағлаб ташлайди. Ҳали кўрсатиб қўяди бу итдан тарқаганларга! |
| Then the white glimmer turned black, and the next he knew he was awakening in the snow where he had fallen. He was no longer giddy. The cobwebs were gone. But he could not get up. There was no strength in his limbs. His body seemed lifeless. By a desperate effort he managed to roll over on his side. In this position he caught a glimpse of the sled and of John Thompson's black beard pointing skyward. Also he saw the lead dog licking the face of the man who lay on the trail. Morganson watched curiously. The dog was nervous and eager. Sometimes it uttered short, sharp yelps, as though to arouse the man, and surveyed him with ears cocked forward and wagging tail. At last it sat down, pointed its nose upward, and began to howl. Soon all the team was howling. | Ўзига келганда Моргансон қорда ётарди. Боши айланмас, кўз олдини қоплаган туман тарқалиб кетибди. Шундай эса-да, ўрнидан туролмади: мажоли етмади. Жисми жонсиз эди. Минг машаққат-ла ёнига ағдарилди. Чана ва серрайиб ётган қорасоқол Жон Томсонни кўрди. Йўл бошловчи кўппак кўндаланг ётган эгасининг юзини ялаб-юлқарди. Моргансон қизиқсиниб кузатаверди. Ит бетоқат бўларди. Ора-сира ўликни уйғотмоқчидай вовулларди. Ахийри ўтириб, калласини кўкка чўзди-да, увиллади. Ортидан бутун гала мотам куйини бошлади. |
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Mr. Jones, of the Manor Farm, had locked the hen-houses for the night, but was too drunk to remember to shut the pop-holes. With the ring of light from his lantern dancing from side to side, he lurched across the yard, kicked off his boots at the back door, drew himself a last glass of beer from the barrel in the scullery, and made his way up to bed, where Mrs. Jones was already snoring. |
“Қўрғонча” молхонасидаги мистер Жонс оқшом тушиши билан товуқхонасини тамбалаб қўйди, бироқ, у шу қадар маст эдики, девордаги тешикни беркитиш ёдидан кўтарилди. Орқа эшикни оёғи билан туртиб ёпгач, у қўлида силтаниб турган фонуси ёритган ерларда каловланиб, бироз тентиради, кейин ошхонадаги бочкадан бир стакан пивони сиздириб ичди ва хотини Жонс хоним хуррак отаётган тўшакнинг бир четига кирди. |
| As soon as the light in the bedroom went out there was a stirring and a fluttering all through the farm buildings. Word had gone round during the day that old Major, the prize Middle White boar, had had a strange dream on the previous night and wished to communicate it to the other animals. It had been agreed that they should all meet in the big barn as soon as Mr. Jones was safely out of the way. Old Major (so he was always called, though the name under which he had been exhibited was Willingdon Beauty) was so highly regarded on the farm that everyone was quite ready to lose an hour's sleep in order to hear what he had to say. | Ётоқхонада чироқ ўчиши билан молхонада безовта ҳаракатлар бошланди. Кун бўйи ҳайвонлар орасида миш-мишлар тарқалди, гўёки кекса майор, мидлуайтлик мукофотланган ахта чўчқа ўтган кеча ғалати туш кўрибди ва бугун бу ҳақда бошқа жониворларга сўзлаб берар экан. Ҳаммалари, мистер Жонс кўздан батамом ғойиб бўлиши билан, катта омборда кўришишга қарор қилишди. Кекса майор (уни ҳамиша шундай аташарди, ҳолбуки, кўргазмаларга олиб борганда “Уиллингтон Гўзали” деган ном остида намойиш этишарди) молхонада жуда катта ҳурмат-эътиборга сазовор эди, шунинг учун бу таклифга ҳамма ҳайвонлар рози бўлишди. |
| The two cart-horses, Boxer and Clover, came in together, walking very slowly and setting down their vast hairy hoofs with great care lest there should be some small animal concealed in the straw. Clover was a stout motherly mare approaching middle life, who had never quite got her figure back after her fourth foal. Boxer was an enormous beast, nearly eighteen hands high, and as strong as any two ordinary horses put together. A white stripe down his nose gave him a somewhat stupid appearance, and in fact he was not of first-rate intelligence, but he was universally respected for his steadiness of character and tremendous powers of work. | Боксёр ва Кловер исмли тулпорлар биргаликда келишди. Улар, кенг ва юнгли туёқлари имкон қадар оз жойни эгаллаши учун, эҳтиёткорлик билан, секин ҳаракатланишарди. Кловер ўрта ёшлардаги баланд байтал бўлиб, тўртинчи тойчоғини туққанидан кейин сўлқиллаб қолганди. Боксёрнинг ташқи кўриниши ғайриихтиёрий ҳурматни уйғотарди — яғрини баландлигидан бўйи 6 фут бўлиб, у шу қадар кучли эдики, оддий отларнинг иккитасичалик қувватга эга эди. Унинг башарасини кесиб ўтган оқ чизиқ тулпорга ахмоқона кўриниш берар, ростини айтганда, ўзи ҳам у қадар ақлли эмас эди, бироқ ўзининг сокин хулқ-атвори ва ғаройиб меҳнатсеварлиги билан ҳаммага ёқар эди. |
| The two horses had just lain down when a brood of ducklings, which had lost their mother, filed into the barn, cheeping feebly and wandering from side to side to find some place where they would not be trodden on. Clover made a sort of wall round them with her great foreleg, and the ducklings nestled down inside it and promptly fell asleep. At the last moment Mollie, the foolish, pretty white mare who drew Mr. Jones's trap, came mincing daintily in, chewing at a lump of sugar. She took a place near the front and began flirting her white mane, hoping to draw attention to the red ribbons it was plaited with. Last of all came the cat, who looked round, as usual, for the warmest place, and finally squeezed herself in between Boxer and Clover; there she purred contentedly throughout Major's speech without listening to a word of what he was saying. | Боксёр ва Кловер ёнбошлаб олган заҳоти, омборга онасини йўқотиб қўйган ўрдакчалар подаси ёпирилиб киришди; ҳаяжон билан ғақиллаб, хавфсиз, биров билиб-билмай босиб олмайдиган жой илинжида, улар у ёндан-бу ёнга югура бошлашди. Байтал Кловернинг узанган оёғи уларга ҳимоя девори бўлиб кўринди, ўрдакчалар бу бошпанага ирғишлаб киришди ва дарҳол уйқуга кетдилар. Ниҳоят омборга, қанд бўлагини қитирлатиб чайнаганча, олифта солланиб, мистер Жонснинг икки ғилдиракли аравасини тортадиган, далли оқ бия Молли кирди. У биринчи қатордан жой олди ва дарҳол тақиб қўйилган қизил тасмачасига эътиборни қаратиш учун оқ ёлларини ўйнай бошлади. Охирги бўлиб мушук кирди, одатдагидай, энг иссиқ жойни излаб, у ён-бу ёнга аланглади ҳамда Боксёр ва Кловернинг ўртасига сирғалиб кириб олди; бу ерда у тинимсиз ағанаб, майорнинг нутқи пайтида миёв-миёвлаб тинмади ва маърузанинг бирорта сўзини ҳам эшитмади. |