-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джек Лондон
-
- Морской волк
-
- Стр. 2/243
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
From
out
of
the
fog
came
the
mournful
tolling
of
a
bell
,
and
I
could
see
the
pilot
turning
the
wheel
with
great
rapidity
.
The
bell
,
which
had
seemed
straight
ahead
,
was
now
sounding
from
the
side
.
Our
own
whistle
was
blowing
hoarsely
,
and
from
time
to
time
the
sound
of
other
whistles
came
to
us
from
out
of
the
fog
.
"
That
's
a
ferry-boat
of
some
sort
,
"
the
new-comer
said
,
indicating
a
whistle
off
to
the
right
.
"
And
there
!
D'ye
hear
that
?
Blown
by
mouth
.
Some
scow
schooner
,
most
likely
.
Better
watch
out
,
Mr.
Schooner-man
.
Ah
,
I
thought
so
.
Now
hell
's
a
poppin
'
for
somebody
!
"
The
unseen
ferry-boat
was
blowing
blast
after
blast
,
and
the
mouth-blown
horn
was
tooting
in
terror-stricken
fashion
.
"
And
now
they
're
payin
'
their
respects
to
each
other
and
tryin
'
to
get
clear
,
"
the
red-faced
man
went
on
,
as
the
hurried
whistling
ceased
.
His
face
was
shining
,
his
eyes
flashing
with
excitement
as
he
translated
into
articulate
language
the
speech
of
the
horns
and
sirens
.
"
That
's
a
steam-siren
a-goin
'
it
over
there
to
the
left
.
And
you
hear
that
fellow
with
a
frog
in
his
throat
--
a
steam
schooner
as
near
as
I
can
judge
,
crawlin
'
in
from
the
Heads
against
the
tide
.
"
A
shrill
little
whistle
,
piping
as
if
gone
mad
,
came
from
directly
ahead
and
from
very
near
at
hand
.
Gongs
sounded
on
the
Martinez
.
Our
paddle-wheels
stopped
,
their
pulsing
beat
died
away
,
and
then
they
started
again
.
The
shrill
little
whistle
,
like
the
chirping
of
a
cricket
amid
the
cries
of
great
beasts
,
shot
through
the
fog
from
more
to
the
side
and
swiftly
grew
faint
and
fainter
.
I
looked
to
my
companion
for
enlightenment
.
"
One
of
them
dare-devil
launches
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
almost
wish
we
'd
sunk
him
,
the
little
rip
!
They
're
the
cause
of
more
trouble
.
And
what
good
are
they
?
Any
jackass
gets
aboard
one
and
runs
it
from
hell
to
breakfast
,
blowin
'
his
whistle
to
beat
the
band
and
tellin
'
the
rest
of
the
world
to
look
out
for
him
,
because
he
's
comin
'
and
ca
n't
look
out
for
himself
!
Because
he
's
comin
'
!
And
you
've
got
to
look
out
,
too
!
Right
of
way
!
Common
decency
!
They
do
n't
know
the
meanin
'
of
it
!
"
I
felt
quite
amused
at
his
unwarranted
choler
,
and
while
he
stumped
indignantly
up
and
down
I
fell
to
dwelling
upon
the
romance
of
the
fog
.
And
romantic
it
certainly
was
--
the
fog
,
like
the
grey
shadow
of
infinite
mystery
,
brooding
over
the
whirling
speck
of
earth
;
and
men
,
mere
motes
of
light
and
sparkle
,
cursed
with
an
insane
relish
for
work
,
riding
their
steeds
of
wood
and
steel
through
the
heart
of
the
mystery
,
groping
their
way
blindly
through
the
Unseen
,
and
clamouring
and
clanging
in
confident
speech
the
while
their
hearts
are
heavy
with
incertitude
and
fear
.
The
voice
of
my
companion
brought
me
back
to
myself
with
a
laugh
.
I
too
had
been
groping
and
floundering
,
the
while
I
thought
I
rode
clear-eyed
through
the
mystery
.