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Found gr: 2777 words & 2 translates

English Ўзбек
As the nights grew longer, his periods of daylight watching of the trail grew shorter. Once a sled went by with jingling bells in the darkness, and with sullen resentment he chewed his biscuits and listened to the sounds. Chance conspired against him. Faithfully he had watched the trail for ten days, suffering from the cold all the prolonged torment of the damned, and nothing had happened. Only an Indian, travelling light, had passed in. Now, in the night, when it was impossible for him to watch, men and dogs and a sled loaded with life, passed out, bound south to the sea and the sun and civilisation. Тунлар узайиб, Моргансоннинг кундузги навбатчилиги қисқарди. Бир сафар кечаси қўнғироқчаларини жаранглатиб йўлдан чаналар ўтиб қолди. Моргансон бу черков жоми монанд садоларга қулоқ берганча минг ўкинч билан нон чайнаб ўтирди. Содир бўлаётганларнинг бари унинг истак-хоҳишларининг чаппаси эди гўё. Изғириннинг дўзахий азобларига дош бериб ўн кун сабот-ла йўлдан кўзини узмади. Бироқ барчаси зое кетди. Фақатгина бир ҳинду ўтиб кетди, холос. Энди эса, кечаси, пойлаш зарур бўлмаган паллада одамлар, итлар, чаналар ғизиллаб ўтишмоқда ва улар жануб томон, денгиз, серқуёш ўлкалар, тамаддун ўчоғи томон йўл олишган эди.
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.
His flour was running short, and he went back to two biscuits in the morning and two biscuits at night. Because, of this his weakness increased and the cold bit in more savagely, and day by day he watched by the dead trail that would not live for him. At last the scurvy entered upon its next stage. The skin was unable longer to cast off the impurity of the blood, and the result was that the body began to swell. His ankles grew puffy, and the ache in them kept him awake long hours at night. Next, the swelling jumped to his knees, and the sum of his pain was more than doubled. Ун ҳам охирлаб қолганди. Моргансон аввалги меъёрга ўтди – эрталаб иккита кулча, кечқурун икки кулча ерди. У тобора мадорсизланиб борар, изғирин ҳам чимдиб-чимдиб оларди. Шунга қарамай Моргансон кунба- кун йўлни, то ҳамон қасдма-қасдига ҳувиллаб жонсиз ҳолатда ётган йўлни кузатишда давом этарди. Ҳадемай касаллик кейинги босқичга ўтди: шиш энди товонигача етди. Тунлари соатлаб кўзига уйқу келмасди. Шиш тиззаларига ўтганда бутун бадани азият чека 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.
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.
On the first day after his last flour had gone it snowed. It was always warm when the snow fell, and he sat out the whole eight hours of daylight on the bank, without movement, terribly hungry and terribly patient, for all the world like a monstrous spider waiting for its prey. But the prey did not come, and he hobbled back to the tent through the darkness, drank quarts of spruce tea and hot water, and went to bed. Охирги ун-урпоқ сарфлаб бўлинган кун чор атрофга ёйилган ва увадаси чиққан оппоқ кўрпа устига момиққина янгиси тўшалди. Қор ёғаётган палла ҳаво илийди. Моргансон қимир этмай қирғоқ тепасида мисоли ўлжасини пойлаётган ўргимчакдек оч-наҳор ва сабот билан саккиз соат вақтини ҳавога учирди. Аммо ўлжадан дарак бўлмади. Кулбаи вайронасига қандай етиб олганини ҳам билмай, игнабарг дамламасидан бир-икки ҳўплади-да қийшайиб қолди.
The next morning circumstance eased its grip on him. As he started to come out of the tent he saw a huge bull-moose crossing the swale some four hundred yards away. Morganson felt a surge and bound of the blood in him, and then went unaccountably weak. A nausea overpowered him, and he was compelled to sit down a moment to recover. Then he reached for his rifle and took careful aim. The first shot was a hit: he knew it; but the moose turned and broke for the wooded hillside that came down to the swale. Morganson pumped bullets wildly among the trees and brush at the fleeing animal, until it dawned upon him that he was exhausting the ammunition he needed for the sled-load of life for which he waited. Эртасига тақдир унга мурувват кўрсатди. Тонг саҳар кулбадан чиқибоқ тўрт юз ярд нарида юрган буғуга кўзи тушди. Моргансон илкис томирларида қон тезоблик билан югургилаётганини ҳис этди. Кейин эса вужудини тушуниксиз мадорсизлик эгаллади, томоғи қақраб кетди. Ўзига келиб олиш учун бир зумга қорга ётиб олди. Кейин милтиқни тўғрилаб, буғуни аста мўлжалга олди. Биринчи ўқ нишонга тегди, бунга ишончи комил. Бироқ буғу юқорига, тепалик томон чопиб кетди. Моргансон ғазабланиб, дарахтлар орасида лип-лип кўзга ташланаётган ҳайвоннинг ортидан кетма-кет ўқ узаверди. Бу ҳол токи у ҳаёт-мамоти учун зарур бўлган ўқларни ҳавога учираётганини англамагунча давом этди.
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.
From the cache up the hillside arose a confused noise of snapping and snarling, punctuated by occasional short, sharp yelps. He increased his speed at much expense of pain, and cried loudly and threateningly. He saw the wolves hurrying away through the snow and underbrush, many of them, and he saw the scaffold down on the ground. The animals were heavy with the meat they had eaten, and they were content to slink away and leave the wreckage. Гўшт қолдирилган тепаликдан ора-чора увиллаётган бўриларнинг ириллаб ғажишаётгани қулоққа чалинди. Оғриқни ҳам писанд қилмай, Моргансон қадамини жадаллатди ва таҳдидли ҳай-ҳайлаб бақирди. Бўрилар кўздан йўқолди, улар бир гала экан. Тахтасупа қорда оёғи осмондан бўлиб ётарди. Йиртқичлар гўштни паққос тушурганларидан ва эгасига чайнаб-ғажиб ташланган сарқитларнигина қолдирганликларидан ўзларида йўқ шод бўлишса кераг-ов.
Thanks to the meat he felt stronger, though his scurvy was worse and more painful. He now lived upon soup, drinking endless gallons of the thin product of the boiling of the moose bones. The soup grew thinner and thinner as he cracked the bones and boiled them over and over; but the hot water with the essence of the meat in it was good for him, and he was more vigorous than he had been previous to the shooting of the moose. Гўшт уни оёққа турғизган бўлса-да, касаллик бутун вужудини сиқувга ола бошлаганди. Бундан кейин қуруқ суякнинг ўзидан қайнатма шўрва тайёрлаб, тирикчилик қилишни ўрганиб олди. Суякларни янчиб, яна ва яна қайнатаверди. Айниқса, гўштли қайнатма жонига оро кирди. Ўша, буғуни отган кундан буён анча-мунча эт олди.
It was in the next week that a new factor entered into Morganson's life. He wanted to know the date. It became an obsession. He pondered and calculated, but his conclusions were rarely twice the same. The first thing in the morning and the last thing at night, and all day as well, watching by the trail, he worried about it. He awoke at night and lay awake for hours over the problem. To have known the date would have been of no value to him; but his curiosity grew until it equalled his hunger and his desire to live. Finally it mastered him, and he resolved to go to Minto and find out. Кейинги ҳафта Моргансоннинг ҳаётида янги ташвиш туғилди: бугун қандай сана эканлигини билгиси келиб қолди. Бу ўй хирапашшадай миясига ўрнашиб олди. У ўйлай-ўйлай, ҳисоблай-ҳисоблай ҳар сафар ҳисобдан адашиб кетаверди. Шу ўй билан уйғонар, уззукун шу ўй миясини пармалар ва кечаси ҳам шу ўй билан уйқуга кетарди. Баъзида тунлари мижжа қоқмай тонг оттирарди. Аслида бу унчалик аҳамиятга эга бўлмаса-да, Моргансоннинг очликдек, яшашга бўлган иштиёқдек хавотири алангаланаверди. Охир-оқибат бу ўз кучини кўрсатди ҳам. Моргансон шаҳарга тушишга жазм этди.
He was still trying to become acquainted with his own voice. He hobbled across the floor and leant against the bar. He knew he must lie consistently; and while he maintained an appearance of careless indifference, his heart was beating and pounding furiously and irregularly, and he could not help looking hungrily at the three men by the stove. They were the possessors of life--his life. У ҳануз овозини измига бўйсундиролмай ҳалак эди. Пештахтага яқинлашиб, тирсаги билан суянди. Обдон ўйлаб, кейин алдаш лозимлигини жуда яхши тушунарди; зоҳиран совуққон ва бепарво кўринса-да, юраги така-пука бўлар, ичида довул қўпган эди. Анов уч оға-инига еб қўйгудек қарашдан ўзини тиёлмади. Ахир, улар ҳаёт деб аталмиш неъматнинг соҳиблари.
"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.
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.
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?
He held his fire and desperately studied Oleson's flight. The giant was grotesquely curving and twisting and running at top speed along the trail, the tail of his parka flapping smartly behind. Morganson trained his rifle on the man and with a swaying action followed his erratic flight. Morganson's finger was getting numb. He could scarcely feel the trigger. "God help me," he breathed a prayer aloud, and pulled the trigger. The running man pitched forward on his face, rebounded from the hard trail, and slid along, rolling over and over. He threshed for a moment with his arms and then lay quiet. Моргансон зўр диққат билан қочоқни кузатар эди. У олға силжиётган Ольсонга милтиғи милини тўғрилади. Бармоғи увушиб қолибди, тепкини сезмади. – Тангрим, ўзинг мадад бер! – нидо қилди ва тепкини босди. Ольсон юзтубан йиқилди, заранг йўлда бир неча марта ўмбалоқ ошди. Қўллари ёрдамида туришга чиранди, бироздан кейин қимирламай қолди.
Now that he was down, Morganson was no longer afraid. He had a vision of himself being found dead in the snow, and for a while he wept in self-pity. But he was not afraid. The struggle had gone out of him. When he tried to open his eyes he found that the wet tears had frozen them shut. He did not try to brush the ice away. It did not matter. He had not dreamed death was so easy. He was even angry that he had struggled and suffered through so many weary weeks. He had been bullied and cheated by the fear of death. Death did not hurt. Every torment he had endured had been a torment of life. Life had defamed death. It was a cruel thing. Қорда узала тушиб ётган Моргансон ортиқ ҳеч нарсадан қўрқмасди. У ўзининг ўлик танасини қай йўсинда топиб олишларини тасаввур қилди. Хўрлиги келиб кўзидан ёш оқди. Лекин ваҳима уни тарк этганди. Жанг тугади. Кўзини очмоқчи бўлди. Аммо музлаб қолган киприкларини бир-биридан ажратолмади. Қайтиб кўзини очишга уринмади. Энди барибир эмасми?! Жон таслим қилиш бунчалик енгил кечади, деб ўйламаган экан. Азоб-уқубатларга тўла шунча умрини кураш ва қийноқда ўтказганига ўзидан аччиқланди. Ўлимни рўкач қилиб, уни лақиллатишибди. Ўлим ҳеч нарса эмас экан. Барча тортган азоблари ўлим деб аталмиш неъматни бошлаб келди. Ҳаёт ўлимга туҳмат қилди. Қандай бедодлик!
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.
At one end of the big barn, on a sort of raised platform, Major was already ensconced on his bed of straw, under a lantern which hung from a beam. He was twelve years old and had lately grown rather stout, but he was still a majestic-looking pig, with a wise and benevolent appearance in spite of the fact that his tushes had never been cut. Before long the other animals began to arrive and make themselves comfortable after their different fashions. First came the three dogs, Bluebell, Jessie, and Pincher, and then the pigs, who settled down in the straw immediately in front of the platform. The hens perched themselves on the window-sills, the pigeons fluttered up to the rafters, the sheep and cows lay down behind the pigs and began to chew the cud. Майор аллақачон омбор охиридаги ўзининг пичан ғарамидан қилинган юксак тахтида, тўсинга осилган чироқ остида оломонни кутиб турарди. У ўн икки ёшда бўлиб, охирги пайтларда бўйига эмас, энига кўпроқ кенгайган эди, барибир, қўрқинч соладиган сўйлоқ тишларига қарамасдан, аввалгидай олийжаноб чўчқалигича қолган, кўзларидан донишмандлик ва меҳр нури таралиб турарди. Ҳамма ҳайвонлар тўплангунча, ҳар бири ўз таъбига монанд жой топиб ўтиргунча, анча кўп вақт ўтди. Биринчи бўлиб учта кўппак — Блюбелл, Жесси ва Пинчер келди, унинг ортидан чўчқалар киришди ва тепалик ёнидаги пичан устидан жой олишди. Товуқлар дераза пештахталарига жойлашдилар, кабутарлар потирлашиб, том остидаги тўсинларга тизилишди, қўйлар ва сигирлар эса дарҳол чўчқаларнинг ёнига ўзларини ташладилар ва пичан чайнашга тушдилар.
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.