-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джек Лондон
-
- Морской волк
-
- Стр. 123/243
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Hand-clapping
and
roars
of
laughter
from
the
hunters
greeted
the
exploit
,
while
Mugridge
,
eluding
half
of
his
pursuers
at
the
foremast
,
ran
aft
and
through
the
remainder
like
a
runner
on
the
football
field
.
Straight
aft
he
held
,
to
the
poop
and
along
the
poop
to
the
stern
.
So
great
was
his
speed
that
as
he
curved
past
the
corner
of
the
cabin
he
slipped
and
fell
.
Nilson
was
standing
at
the
wheel
,
and
the
Cockney
's
hurtling
body
struck
his
legs
.
Both
went
down
together
,
but
Mugridge
alone
arose
.
By
some
freak
of
pressures
,
his
frail
body
had
snapped
the
strong
man
's
leg
like
a
pipe-stem
.
Parsons
took
the
wheel
,
and
the
pursuit
continued
.
Round
and
round
the
decks
they
went
,
Mugridge
sick
with
fear
,
the
sailors
hallooing
and
shouting
directions
to
one
another
,
and
the
hunters
bellowing
encouragement
and
laughter
.
Mugridge
went
down
on
the
fore-hatch
under
three
men
;
but
he
emerged
from
the
mass
like
an
eel
,
bleeding
at
the
mouth
,
the
offending
shirt
ripped
into
tatters
,
and
sprang
for
the
main-rigging
.
Up
he
went
,
clear
up
,
beyond
the
ratlines
,
to
the
very
masthead
.
Half-a-dozen
sailors
swarmed
to
the
crosstrees
after
him
,
where
they
clustered
and
waited
while
two
of
their
number
,
Oofty
--
Oofty
and
Black
(
who
was
Latimer
's
boat-steerer
)
,
continued
up
the
thin
steel
stays
,
lifting
their
bodies
higher
and
higher
by
means
of
their
arms
.
It
was
a
perilous
undertaking
,
for
,
at
a
height
of
over
a
hundred
feet
from
the
deck
,
holding
on
by
their
hands
,
they
were
not
in
the
best
of
positions
to
protect
themselves
from
Mugridge
's
feet
.
And
Mugridge
kicked
savagely
,
till
the
Kanaka
,
hanging
on
with
one
hand
,
seized
the
Cockney
's
foot
with
the
other
.
Black
duplicated
the
performance
a
moment
later
with
the
other
foot
.
Then
the
three
writhed
together
in
a
swaying
tangle
,
struggling
,
sliding
,
and
falling
into
the
arms
of
their
mates
on
the
crosstrees
.
The
aerial
battle
was
over
,
and
Thomas
Mugridge
,
whining
and
gibbering
,
his
mouth
flecked
with
bloody
foam
,
was
brought
down
to
deck
.
Wolf
Larsen
rove
a
bowline
in
a
piece
of
rope
and
slipped
it
under
his
shoulders
.
Then
he
was
carried
aft
and
flung
into
the
sea
.
Forty
--
fifty
--
sixty
feet
of
line
ran
out
,
when
Wolf
Larsen
cried
"
Belay
!
"
Oofty
--
Oofty
took
a
turn
on
a
bitt
,
the
rope
tautened
,
and
the
Ghost
,
lunging
onward
,
jerked
the
cook
to
the
surface
.
It
was
a
pitiful
spectacle
.
Though
he
could
not
drown
,
and
was
nine-lived
in
addition
,
he
was
suffering
all
the
agonies
of
half-drowning
.
The
Ghost
was
going
very
slowly
,
and
when
her
stern
lifted
on
a
wave
and
she
slipped
forward
she
pulled
the
wretch
to
the
surface
and
gave
him
a
moment
in
which
to
breathe
;
but
between
each
lift
the
stern
fell
,
and
while
the
bow
lazily
climbed
the
next
wave
the
line
slacked
and
he
sank
beneath
.
I
had
forgotten
the
existence
of
Maud
Brewster
,
and
I
remembered
her
with
a
start
as
she
stepped
lightly
beside
me
.
It
was
her
first
time
on
deck
since
she
had
come
aboard
.
A
dead
silence
greeted
her
appearance
.
"
What
is
the
cause
of
the
merriment
?
"
she
asked
.
