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English Ўзбек
When the trail fluttered anew with life it was life with which he could not cope. A detachment of the North-West police went by, a score of them, with many sleds and dogs; and he cowered down on the bank above, and they were unaware of the menace of death that lurked in the form of a dying man beside the trail. Йўлда яна тириклик нишоналари пайдо бўлганда уларни ишғол этиш Моргансоннинг қўлидан келмасди. Йигирма кишидан иборат шимолий- ғарб полиция отряди чаналарда, итларини аккилатишиб ўтиб кетишди. Моргансон тарашадай тиришиб сассиз ўтирар, азаматлар эса йўл четида яшириниб олган одамнинг ҳаёт шами сўнаётганидан бехабар эдилар.
His frozen thumb gave him a great deal of trouble. While watching by the bank he got into the habit of taking his mitten off and thrusting the hand inside his shirt so as to rest the thumb in the warmth of his arm-pit. A mail carrier came over the trail, and Morganson let him pass. A mail carrier was an important person, and was sure to be missed immediately. Моргансон совуқ олган бошмалдоғидан хавотирланарди. Қўлқопини ечиб қўлини қўлтиғига тиқиб олиш одат тусига кирди. Йўлда кўринди. Моргансон уни ўтказиб юборди: хат ташувчи анчайин таниқли шахс, ғойиб бўлганини билишса, Моргансонни дарров қўлга туширишади.
Morganson dashed up the hillside--at least he started to dash up. The next he knew he was coming out of a faint and dragging himself to his feet. He went up more slowly, pausing from time to time to breathe and to steady his reeling senses. At last he crawled over the trunk. The moose lay before him. He sat down heavily upon the carcase and laughed. He buried his face in his mittened hands and laughed some more. Моргансон тепалик томон отилди, тўғрироғи, отилмоқчи бўлди. Кўзини очганда ҳушидан кетганини тушунди. Минг азоб билан ўрнидан турди, секин-аста одимлай кетди. Вақти-вақти билан нафасини ростлаб, бироз ўзига келиш учун тўхтади. Ниҳоят, қулаб ётган қарағайгача аранг судралиб етиб келди. Унинг ёнида буғу жонсиз ётарди. Моргансон жасад устига оғир чўкди ва бутун бошли қўшинни ер тишлатган баҳодирдай оғзини йиғиштиролмай қолди.
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.
But he did not mind. He was glad that the sled had not passed before the coming of the moose. The moose had changed his plans. Its meat was worth fifty cents a pound, and he was but little more than three miles from Minto. He need no longer wait for the sled-load of life. The moose was the sled-load of life. He would sell it. He would buy a couple of dogs at Minto, some food and some tobacco, and the dogs would haul him south along the trail to the sea, the sun, and civilisation. Лекин у аза тутиб ўтирмади. Чаналар аввалроқ ўтиб кетмаганидан хурсанд эди: буғу режаларини ўзгартириб юборди. Бир қадоқ гўшт эллик цент туради, Минтогача эса уч чақиримдан зиёдроқ йўлни босиб ўтиши керак. Энди ноз-неъматлар ортилган чаналарни кутиб ўтиришга ҳожат йўқ: буғу уларнинг ўрнини боса олади. У гўштни сотиб, Минтода бир нечта ит, егулик ва тамаки харид қилади ҳамда итлар уни жанубга – денгиз, серқуёш ўлкалар, тамаддун ўчоғи томон олиб кетади.
He felt hungry. The dull, monotonous ache of hunger had now become a sharp and insistent pang. He hobbled back to the tent and fried a slice of meat. After that he smoked two whole pipefuls of dried tea leaves. Then he fried another slice of moose. He was aware of an unwonted glow of strength, and went out and chopped some firewood. He followed that up with a slice of meat. Teased on by the food, his hunger grew into an inflammation. It became imperative every little while to fry a slice of meat. He tried smaller slices and found himself frying oftener. Ошқозони боз сурнай чала бошлади. Муттасил давом этаётган золим очлик чидаб бўлмас майлга айланди. Қўналғасига етиб келди-ю бир бўлак гўштни қовуриб еб олди, кейин қуруқшаган шамадан тўлдириб, нақ икки марта мундштук бурқситди ва яна бир парча гўштни паққос туширди. Сўнг ўзида ғайриоддий куч-қувватни ҳис қилди. Ташқарига чиқиб шох-шабба йиғиб келди. Шундан кейин яна гўшт бўлагидан баҳраманд бўлди. Гўшт нафсини қитиқлар, егани сари иштаҳаси очиларди. Моргансон ўзини тия олмас – дам-бадам гўштга қўл узатарди. Кичикроқ бўлакни кесмоқчи бўлар, лекин қўллари ўзига бўйсунмасди.
Once in the tent, he proceeded to indulge in a prolonged and solitary orgy. He did not need friends. His stomach and he were company. Slice after slice and many slices of meat he fried and ate. He ate pounds of the meat. He brewed real tea, and brewed it strong. He brewed the last he had. It did not matter. On the morrow he would be buying tea in Minto. When it seemed he could eat no more, he smoked. He smoked all his stock of dried tea leaves. What of it? On the morrow he would be smoking tobacco. He knocked out his pipe, fried a final slice, and went to bed. He had eaten so much he seemed bursting, yet he got out of his blankets and had just one more mouthful of meat. Чодирга қайтиб, ўзининг ёлғизликдаги базми жамшидини давом эттирди. Ҳамтовоқларга муҳтожлик сезмасди: ўзи-ю ошқозони – бор- йўқ улфатлар шугина. У гўштни бўлаклаб, қадоқлаб еб битирарди. Аччиққина қилиб чой дамлади. Бу сўнгги қуруқ чой эди. Ҳечқиси йўқ, эртага Минтодан сотиб олаверади. Сўнгги шамани ҳам чекиб тугатди. Нима бўпти! Эртага қўлида асл тамаки бўлади. Охирида бир парча гўштни тановул қилиб, ухлашга ётди. У шунчалар кам гўшт едики, гўё кўп еса, қорни ёрилиб кетадигандай эди. Аммо барибир устидаги адёлни ирғитиб ташлаб, яна кавшанишга тушди.
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.
It was dark when he arrived at Minto, but this served him. No one saw him arrive. Besides, he knew he would have moonlight by which to return. He climbed the bank and pushed open the saloon door. The light dazzled him. The source of it was several candles, but he had been living for long in an unlighted tent. As his eyes adjusted themselves, he saw three men sitting around the stove. They were trail-travellers--he knew it at once; and since they had not passed in, they were evidently bound out. They would go by his tent next morning. Минтога кириб келганда қора тун ўз пардасини тортиб улгурганди. Лекин бу ҳам унинг фойдасига эди: қоронғуда биров уни таниб қолмайди. Қайтишда эса ой йўлини ёритиб туради. Ҳув ўша кунги қовоқхона эшигини очиб тўғри кираверди. Ичкарида атиги бир неча дона шам ёғду сочиб турса-да, хонадаги ёруғлик кўзини қамаштириб юборди. Моргансон ҳаддан ташқари узоқ муддат зим-зиё қўналғада яшаганди. Ниҳоят, кўзлари ёруғликка ўргангач, печ атрофида ўтирган уч эркакка кўзи тушди ва ўша ондаёқ ҳаммасига тушунди: учовлон чанада саёҳатга чиқишган, фақат бошқа тарафдан келишган. Эртага чодир ёнидан ўтишлари турган гап.
The barkeeper emitted a long and marvelling whistle. Ҳайрон бўлган қовоқхона соҳиби ҳуштак чалиб юборди.
Morganson clutched the bar tightly. A drink! He could have thrown his arms around the man's legs and kissed his feet. He tried vainly to utter his acceptance; but the barkeeper had not waited and was already passing out the bottle. Моргансон иккала қўли билан пештахтага чиппа ёпишди. Ичасанми,дейди-я! Моргансон сал қолса бу халоскорнинг оёқларини ялашгача борарди. У жавобга оғиз жуфтлаган эди, аммо қовоқхоначи унинг ройишини кутиб ўтирмай шиша узатди.
"But what did you do for grub?" the latter asked. "You don't look as if you could chop wood to keep yourself warm. You look terribly bad, friend." – Нима еб тирикчилик қилдинг? Назаримда, ҳатто новда кесадиган аҳволда эмассан. Кўринишинг ҳам ҳавас қилгудек эмас, оғайни.
Morganson yearned towards the delayed bottle and gulped dryly. Моргансон ташналик билан ўзига муштоқ қилган шишага қўл чўзиб, қулт этиб ютиниб олди.
The action of the two glasses of whisky on Morganson's empty stomach and weak condition was rapid. The next he knew he was sitting by the stove on a box, and it seemed as though ages had passed. A tall, broad-shouldered, black-whiskered man was paying for drinks. Morganson's swimming eyes saw him drawing a greenback from a fat roll, and Morganson's swimming eyes cleared on the instant. They were hundred-dollar bills. It was life! His life! He felt an almost irresistible impulse to snatch the money and dash madly out into the night. Оч қоринга ичилган икки стакан виски заиф танада шу заҳоти ўз ишини кўрсатди. Моргансон ҳушига келганда печ ёнидаги яшикда ўтирган эди. Орадан бир аср ўтиб кетгандай туюлди. Дароз, қорасоқол, яғриндор киши қовоқхона эгаси билан ҳисоб-китоб қилди. Моргансоннинг кўз ўнгини туман қоплаган бўлса-да, қорасоқол қалингина пул дастасидан биттасини ажратиб олганини кўрди. Туман бир зумга тарқади. Бу юз долларлик пуллар эди. Ҳаёт! Унинг ҳаёти! У пулларга чанг солиб, қоронғу бурчакка отилишдек енгиб бўлмас истакни туйди.
The black-whiskered man and one of his companions arose. "Come on, Oleson," the former said to the third one of the party, a fair-haired, ruddy-faced giant. Oleson came to his feet, yawning and stretching. "What are you going to bed so soon for?" the barkeeper asked plaintively. "It's early yet." "Got to make Selkirk to-morrow," said he of the black whiskers. "On Christmas Day!" the barkeeper cried. "The better the day the better the deed," the other laughed. Қорасоқол қўзғалди: ортидан жўраларидан бири ҳам ўрнидан турди. – Кетдик, Ольсон, – деди қорасоқол норғул, юзи қизил, малладан келган йўлдошларига. Ольсон эснаб, керишганча ўрнидан қўзғалди. – Нима, дарров ётмоқчимисизлар? – деди ранжигансимон қовоқхона эгаси. –Ҳали эрта-ку. – Эртага Селкеркда бўлишимиз лозим.– Рождествонинг биринчи кунида-я! – Кундузи йўл юриш хийла осонроқ.
He awoke. It was dark, and he was in his blankets. He had gone to bed in his moccasins and mittens, with the flaps of his cap pulled down over his ears. He got up as quickly as his crippled condition would permit, and built the fire and boiled some water. As he put the spruce-twigs into the teapot he noted the first glimmer of the pale morning light. He caught up his rifle and hobbled in a panic out to the bank. As he crouched and waited, it came to him that he had forgotten to drink his spruce tea. The only other thought in his mind was the possibility of John Thompson changing his mind and not travelling Christmas Day. Моргансон уйғониб кетди. Ҳали тун қора пардасини йиғиштирмабди. У эгни-бошини ечмаёқ қотиб қолган экан. Дик этиб ўрнидан туриб, олов ёқиб, сув қайнатди. Декчага қарағай игнабаргидан сепаётиб субҳнинг илк оқиштоб шуълаларини пайқади-ю, милтиғини олиб, қирғоқ томон шошди. Пистирмага ўрнашиб олгандагина шифобахш дамламасидан ичмагани эсига тушди. Хаёлига, Жон Томсон Рождествонинг биринчи кунида йўлга чиқса керак, деган ўй келди.
Dawn broke and merged into day. It was cold and clear. Sixty below zero was Morganson's estimate of the frost. Not a breath stirred the chill Arctic quiet. He sat up suddenly, his muscular tensity increasing the hurt of the scurvy. He had heard the far sound of a man's voice and the faint whining of dogs. He began beating his hands back and forth against his sides. It was a serious matter to bare the trigger hand to sixty degrees below zero, and against that time he needed to develop all the warmth of which his flesh was capable. Тонг отди. Ҳаво совуқ ва очиқ. Моргансон, аёз олтмиш даражадан паст бўлмаса керак, деб тахмин қилди. Оғир қутб сукунатини сассизгина эпкин ҳам бузишга журъат этгани йўқ. Туйқус Моргансон қаддини ростлади. Солқиган оёқларини оғриқ хиппа бўғди. Йироқдан аллакимларнинг ҳайқириғи, итларнинг акиллаши элас-элас яқинлашарди. Моргансон қўлларини бели-биқини аралаш ура бошлади. Олтмиш даража совуқда тепкини босиш учун қўлқопни ечишнинг ўзи бўладими?
They came into view around the outjutting clump of trees. To the fore was the third man whose name he had not learnt. Then came eight dogs drawing the sled. At the front of the sled, guiding it by the gee-pole, walked John Thompson. The rear was brought up by Oleson, the Swede. He was certainly a fine man, Morganson thought, as he looked at the bulk of him in his squirrel-skin parka. The men and dogs were silhouetted sharply against the white of the landscape. They had the seeming of two dimension, cardboard figures that worked mechanically. Morganson rested his cocked rifle in the notch in the tree. He became abruptly aware that his fingers were cold, and discovered that his right hand was bare. He did not know that he had taken off the mitten. He slipped it on again hastily. The men and dogs drew closer, and he could see their breaths spouting into visibility in the cold air. When the first man was fifty yards away, Morganson slipped the mitten from his right hand. He placed the first finger on the trigger and aimed low. Улар ўрмон дўнглиги ортида кўринишди. Олдинда Моргансон исмини билмайдигани. Ортидан чанага қўшилган саккизта ит. Жон Томсон ёнбошда таёқ кўмагида уларни йўлга солиб келмоқда. Энг охирида швед Ольсон. “Хушрўй барзанги”, деб ўйлади Моргансон нигоҳлари бу девқоматнинг эгни-бошида сирпанар экан. Одамлар ва итлар қораси оқ гиламда аниқ-тиниқ намоён бўларкан. Улар сурат сингари ясси кўринар, турнақатор ҳаракатланишарди. Моргансон қуролни тиргакка қўйиб отишга чоғланган замон бармоқлари увишиб қолганини сезди. Одамлар ва итлар борган сари яқин келаверишди. Паға-паға буғ уларнинг оғзидан чиқаётган ҳовур эканлигини кўрди. Олдиндаги эллик ярдга яқинлашганда Моргансон кўрсатгич бармоғини тепкига қўйди.
When he fired the first man whirled half around and went down on the trail. In the instant of surprise, Morganson pulled the trigger on John Thompson--too low, for the latter staggered and sat down suddenly on the sled. Morganson raised his aim and fired again. John Thompson sank down backward along the top of the loaded sled. Гумбурлаган товуш янгради; олдиндаги одам сулайиб, оёғи осмондан бўлди. Моргансон ҳовлиқиб, Жон Томсонни нишонга олди. Бироқ ўқ ҳато кетди. Жон гандираклаб, чанага минди. Моргансон нишонни юқорироқ олиб, яна ўқ узди. Жон Томсон чалқанчасига ағанади.
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.