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Found into: 483 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.
On the fifth day the trail returned to life. To the south a dark object appeared, and grew larger. Morganson became alert. He worked his rifle, ejecting a loaded cartridge from the chamber, by the same action replacing it with another, and returning the ejected cartridge into the magazine. He lowered the trigger to half-cock, and drew on his mitten to keep the trigger-hand warm. As the dark object came nearer he made it out to be a man, without dogs or sled, travelling light. He grew nervous, cocked the trigger, then put it back to half-cock again. The man developed into an Indian, and Morganson, with a sigh of disappointment, dropped the rifle across his knees. The Indian went on past and disappeared towards Minto behind the out-jutting clump of trees. Бешинчи куни йўл жонланди. Жануб томонда қора нуқта кўзга ташланди ва у борган сари катталашаверди. Моргансон ҳушёр тортди. Милтиқни шай ҳолатга келтиришга тушди: стволдан ўқни олиб, ўрнига янгисини жойлади. Тепкини сақлагичга тушириб, қўлқопини тортиб қўйди. Қора нуқта яқинлашавергач маълум бўлдики, у ҳинду экан. Моргансон тараддудланиб қолди. Тепкини кўтарди ва яна сақлагичга туширди. Моргансон ҳафсаласи пир бўлиб, милтиқни тиззасига қўйди. Ҳинду ёнгинасидан ўтиб кетди ва дарахтлар орасида ғойиб бўлди.
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.
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.
Then it was, beaten into the tent by the frost, that the trail, with monstrous irony, suddenly teemed with life. Three sleds went by the first day, and two the second. Once, during each day, he fought his way out to the bank only to succumb and retreat, and each of the two times, within half-an-hour after he retreated, a sled went by. Айни аёз уни чодирга ҳайдаб киргизган кунлари йўл мазах қилаётгандай жонланди. Биринчи кун учта, иккинчи кун иккита чана қорни ғарчиллатиб ўтиб кетди. Мана, икки кун мобайнида у пойлоқчиликка чиққан эса-да, совуқ билан жангда енгилганди. Икки сафар ҳам чодирга кириб кетгандан сўнг ярим соатлар чамаси вақт ўтиб чаналар йўлни жонлантирганди.
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.
He stopped shooting, and watched. He noted the direction of the animal's flight, and, high up on the hillside in an opening among the trees, saw the trunk of a fallen pine. Continuing the moose's flight in his mind he saw that it must pass the trunk. He resolved on one more shot, and in the empty air above the trunk he aimed and steadied his wavering rifle. The animal sprang into his field of vision, with lifted fore-legs as it took the leap. He pulled the trigger. With the explosion the moose seemed to somersault in the air. It crashed down to earth in the snow beyond and flurried the snow into dust. Зимдан кузата бошлади. Буғунинг йўналишини белгилаётиб, ўрмон ичидаги ялангликда қулаб ётган қарағайни пайқаб қолди. Хаёлан “қочоқ”нинг йўналиш чизиғини тортаётиб, буғу айнан шу қарағайнинг ён-веридан ўтади, деган тўхтамга келди. Яна битта ўқнинг баҳридан ўтса ўтибди-да. Қалтироқ қўллари билан милтиқни маҳкамроқ сиқиб, қарағай узра бўшлиқни нишонга олди. Буғу олд оёқларини кўтариб сакраган кез Моргансон варанглатиб ўқ узди. Буғу ҳаводаёқ жонсизланиб, қорга қулади.
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.
In the middle of the day he thought of the wild animals that might eat his meat, and he climbed the hill, carrying along his axe, the haul rope, and a sled lashing. In his weak state the making of the cache and storing of the meat was an all-afternoon task. He cut young saplings, trimmed them, and tied them together into a tall scaffold. It was not so strong a cache as he would have desired to make, but he had done his best. To hoist the meat to the top was heart-breaking. The larger pieces defied him until he passed the rope over a limb above, and, with one end fast to a piece of meat, put all his weight on the other end. Кундузи унинг миясига йиртқич ҳайвонлар озуқа захирасини ғажиб ташлайдилар, деган ўй келиб қолди-ю болта ва арқонни олиб, тепалик томон одимлади. Гўштни яшириш учун ўра кавлашга мадори етмасди; бунга нақд бир кун кетади. Бир қанча дарахт ғўлаларини жипс боғлаб, баландгина тахтасупа ясади. Кўзлагани кўнглидагидек чиқмаган эса- да, бундан ортиғи қўлидан келмасди. Гўштни юқорига кўтариш учун ўлардек зўриқиш зарур эди. Шу ерда Моргансон ҳийла ишлатди: арқонни дарахтнинг баланд шохидан ошириб ирғитди-да, бир томонига залворли гўшт бўлагини боғлаб, нариги учига бор вазнини ташлаб, юқорига тортди.
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.
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.
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.
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 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.
As the three men passed out of the door it came dimly to Morganson that it was Christmas Eve. That was the date. That was what he had come to Minto for. But it was overshadowed now by the three men themselves, and the fat roll of hundred-dollar bills. Учовлон чиқиб кетишди. Ана шундагина Моргансоннинг онгига уларнинг сўзлари етиб борди. Мана бугун қандай кун экан – Рождество арафаси! Айни шуни билиш учун Минтога қадам қўймаганмиди, ахир. Лекин ҳозир хаёлини манави уч сиймою юз долларлик бир даста пул босиб кетди.
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.
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.