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Found am: 3468 words & 3 translates

English Ўзбек
The way of the disaster was clear to him. The wolves had scented his cache. One of them had leapt from the trunk of the fallen tree to the top of the cache. He could see marks of the brute's paws in the snow that covered the trunk. He had not dreamt a wolf could leap so far. A second had followed the first, and a third and fourth, until the flimsy scaffold had gone down under their weight and movement. Моргансон фалокат қандай юз берганинин тахмин қилди. Бўрилар гўшт исини олишган. Улардан бири тахтасупага ўзини отган. Моргансон бу сўйлоқтишлар шунчалик баландга сакрай олишини хаёлига ҳам келтирмаганди. Бўрилар бирин-кетин сакрайверишган ва натижада шундоғам омонот турган тахтасупа қулаб тушган.
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.
"Chopping wood for the steamboat company," Morganson lied unsteadily. – Кемалар ширкати учун ёғоч кесиб юрдим, – Моргансон тўқиган ёлғонига ўзи ҳам ишонқирамади.
The barkeeper nodded. His face beamed with understanding. Қовоқхоначи тушунгансимон бош силиб кулиб қўйди.
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.
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.
The door slammed. Эшик қарсиллаб ёпилди.
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.
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.
Finding it impossible to face the dogs Morganson stepped off the trail into the deep snow and floundered in a wide circle to the rear of the sled. Under the initiative of the leader, the team swung around in its tangled harness. Because of his crippled condition, Morganson could move only slowly. He saw the animals circling around on him and tried to retreat. He almost made it, but the big leader, with a savage lunge, sank its teeth into the calf of his leg. The flesh was slashed and torn, but Morganson managed to drag himself clear. Бу иблис малайлари яқин йўлатмаслигига амин бўлгач, Моргансон қалин қор кечиб, чаналарни айланиб ўтмоқчи бўлди. Йўлбошчи унга ташланди, бутун тўда ҳам шатак қайишга ўралашиб, раҳнамолари кетидан сапчишди. Оқсоқ оёқлари Моргансонга жадалроқ ҳаракатланишга имкон бермасди. Итлар ўраб олаётганини кўриб чекинмоқчи эди, йўлбошчи ит бир ҳамла билан оёғига тиш ботирди. Болдирини тишлаб узиб олай деса-да, барибир қутулиб кета олди.
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!
In order to get to the tent he had to go wide of the sled and the savage animals. He stepped off the trail into the soft snow. Then he felt suddenly giddy and stood still. He was afraid to go on for fear he would fall down. He stood still for a long time, balancing himself on his crippled legs that were trembling violently from weakness. He looked down and saw the snow reddening at his feet. The blood flowed freely as ever. He had not thought the bite was so severe. He controlled his giddiness and stooped to examine the wound. The snow seemed rushing up to meet him, and he recoiled from it as from a blow. He had a panic fear that he might fall down, and after a struggle he managed to stand upright again. He was afraid of that snow that had rushed up to him. Чодирга бориш учун қутурган итларни узоқдан айланиб ўтиш лозим эди. Моргансон юмшоқ қорда юра юбошлади-ю, боши айланиб, таққа тўхтади. Агар яна бир қадам қўйса, йиқилишидан қўрқди. Шу важдан оёқлари қалт-қалт титраб, узоқ туриб қолди. Пастга кўз ташлади – оёқ ости қирмизи гилам тус олибди. Ярасидан қон оқиши тўхтамаганди. Ит шунчалик чуқур тишлайди, деб ким ўйлабди дейсиз! Бош айланиши ўтиб кетгач, жароҳатини текширмоқ учун энгашди. Оппоқ қор унга ташланаётгандай туюлди ва у мушт егандай орқага тисланди. Ваҳима бутун вужудини эгаллаб олди – қулаб тушмаса гўрга эди – у зўр бериб қаддини ростлади. Милт-милт йилтиллаётган оппоқ қор рангга кирди.
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.
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!
But his anger passed. The lies and frauds of life were of no consequence now that he was coming to his own. He became aware of drowsiness, and felt a sweet sleep stealing upon him, balmy with promises of easement and rest. He heard faintly the howling of the dogs, and had a fleeting thought that in the mastering of his flesh the frost no longer bit. Then the light and the thought ceased to pulse beneath the tear-gemmed eyelids, and with a tired sigh of comfort he sank into sleep. Кейин эса қаҳр-ғазаб чекинди. Энди, ҳақиқат аён бўлгач, ёлғон ва мунофиқлик аҳамиятсиз эди. Уни мудроқ енга бошлади, ором ва озодликни ваъда қилиб, ширингина уйқу босди. Олислардан итларнинг улиши элас-элас қулоғига чалинди. Вужудини чирмаб олган аёз зиғирча-да оғриқ бермаяпти, деган ўй шууридан йилт этиб ўтди. Кейин шуури хира тортди, ортидан киприкларидаги дур оралаб қабоқларини ёриб ўтаётган нур ҳам сўнди. Сўнгги оғир хўрсиниқ ила руҳи енгиллашиб, абадий уйқу салтанатига кўчди.
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.