-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джек Лондон
-
- Морской волк
-
- Стр. 92/243
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
It
was
my
task
to
tally
the
pelts
as
they
came
aboard
from
the
boats
,
to
oversee
the
skinning
and
afterward
the
cleansing
of
the
decks
and
bringing
things
ship-shape
again
.
It
was
not
pleasant
work
.
My
soul
and
my
stomach
revolted
at
it
;
and
yet
,
in
a
way
,
this
handling
and
directing
of
many
men
was
good
for
me
.
It
developed
what
little
executive
ability
I
possessed
,
and
I
was
aware
of
a
toughening
or
hardening
which
I
was
undergoing
and
which
could
not
be
anything
but
wholesome
for
"
Sissy
"
Van
Weyden
.
One
thing
I
was
beginning
to
feel
,
and
that
was
that
I
could
never
again
be
quite
the
same
man
I
had
been
.
While
my
hope
and
faith
in
human
life
still
survived
Wolf
Larsen
's
destructive
criticism
,
he
had
nevertheless
been
a
cause
of
change
in
minor
matters
.
He
had
opened
up
for
me
the
world
of
the
real
,
of
which
I
had
known
practically
nothing
and
from
which
I
had
always
shrunk
.
I
had
learned
to
look
more
closely
at
life
as
it
was
lived
,
to
recognize
that
there
were
such
things
as
facts
in
the
world
,
to
emerge
from
the
realm
of
mind
and
idea
and
to
place
certain
values
on
the
concrete
and
objective
phases
of
existence
.
I
saw
more
of
Wolf
Larsen
than
ever
when
we
had
gained
the
grounds
.
For
when
the
weather
was
fair
and
we
were
in
the
midst
of
the
herd
,
all
hands
were
away
in
the
boats
,
and
left
on
board
were
only
he
and
I
,
and
Thomas
Mugridge
,
who
did
not
count
.
But
there
was
no
play
about
it
.
The
six
boats
,
spreading
out
fan-wise
from
the
schooner
until
the
first
weather
boat
and
the
last
lee
boat
were
anywhere
from
ten
to
twenty
miles
apart
,
cruised
along
a
straight
course
over
the
sea
till
nightfall
or
bad
weather
drove
them
in
.
It
was
our
duty
to
sail
the
Ghost
well
to
leeward
of
the
last
lee
boat
,
so
that
all
the
boats
should
have
fair
wind
to
run
for
us
in
case
of
squalls
or
threatening
weather
.
It
is
no
slight
matter
for
two
men
,
particularly
when
a
stiff
wind
has
sprung
up
,
to
handle
a
vessel
like
the
Ghost
,
steering
,
keeping
look-out
for
the
boats
,
and
setting
or
taking
in
sail
;
so
it
devolved
upon
me
to
learn
,
and
learn
quickly
.
Steering
I
picked
up
easily
,
but
running
aloft
to
the
crosstrees
and
swinging
my
whole
weight
by
my
arms
when
I
left
the
ratlines
and
climbed
still
higher
,
was
more
difficult
.
This
,
too
,
I
learned
,
and
quickly
,
for
I
felt
somehow
a
wild
desire
to
vindicate
myself
in
Wolf
Larsen
's
eyes
,
to
prove
my
right
to
live
in
ways
other
than
of
the
mind
.
Nay
,
the
time
came
when
I
took
joy
in
the
run
of
the
masthead
and
in
the
clinging
on
by
my
legs
at
that
precarious
height
while
I
swept
the
sea
with
glasses
in
search
of
the
boats
.
I
remember
one
beautiful
day
,
when
the
boats
left
early
and
the
reports
of
the
hunters
'
guns
grew
dim
and
distant
and
died
away
as
they
scattered
far
and
wide
over
the
sea
.
There
was
just
the
faintest
wind
from
the
westward
;
but
it
breathed
its
last
by
the
time
we
managed
to
get
to
leeward
of
the
last
lee
boat
.
One
by
one
--
I
was
at
the
masthead
and
saw
--
the
six
boats
disappeared
over
the
bulge
of
the
earth
as
they
followed
the
seal
into
the
west
.
We
lay
,
scarcely
rolling
on
the
placid
sea
,
unable
to
follow
.
Wolf
Larsen
was
apprehensive
.
The
barometer
was
down
,
and
the
sky
to
the
east
did
not
please
him
.
He
studied
it
with
unceasing
vigilance
.
"
If
she
comes
out
of
there
,
"
he
said
,
"
hard
and
snappy
,
putting
us
to
windward
of
the
boats
,
it
's
likely
there
'll
be
empty
bunks
in
steerage
and
fo
'
c
's
le
.
"
By
eleven
o'clock
the
sea
had
become
glass
.
By
midday
,
though
we
were
well
up
in
the
northerly
latitudes
,
the
heat
was
sickening
.
There
was
no
freshness
in
the
air
.
It
was
sultry
and
oppressive
,
reminding
me
of
what
the
old
Californians
term
"
earthquake
weather
.
"
There
was
something
ominous
about
it
,
and
in
intangible
ways
one
was
made
to
feel
that
the
worst
was
about
to
come
.
Slowly
the
whole
eastern
sky
filled
with
clouds
that
over-towered
us
like
some
black
sierra
of
the
infernal
regions
.
So
clearly
could
one
see
canon
,
gorge
,
and
precipice
,
and
the
shadows
that
lie
therein
,
that
one
looked
unconsciously
for
the
white
surf-line
and
bellowing
caverns
where
the
sea
charges
on
the
land
.
And
still
we
rocked
gently
,
and
there
was
no
wind
.
"
It
's
no
square
"
Wolf
Larsen
said
.
"
Old
Mother
Nature
's
going
to
get
up
on
her
hind
legs
and
howl
for
all
that
's
in
her
,
and
it
'll
keep
us
jumping
,
Hump
,
to
pull
through
with
half
our
boats
.
You
'd
better
run
up
and
loosen
the
topsails
.
"
