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- Джозеф Хеллер
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- Уловка 22
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"
How
should
I
know
?
"
answered
Chief
White
Halfoat
,
staggering
inside
the
tent
just
then
with
a
bottle
of
whiskey
cradled
in
his
arm
and
sitting
himself
down
pugnaciously
between
the
two
of
them
.
Doc
Daneeka
rose
without
a
word
and
moved
his
chair
outside
the
tent
,
his
back
bowed
by
the
compact
kit
of
injustices
that
was
his
perpetual
burden
.
He
could
not
bear
the
company
of
his
roommate
.
Chief
White
Halfoat
thought
he
was
crazy
.
"
I
don
’
t
know
what
’
s
the
matter
with
that
guy
,
"
he
observed
reproachfully
.
"
He
’
s
got
no
brains
,
that
’
s
what
’
s
the
matter
with
him
.
If
he
had
any
brains
he
’
d
grab
a
shovel
and
start
digging
.
Right
here
in
the
tent
,
he
’
d
start
digging
,
right
under
my
cot
.
He
’
d
strike
oil
in
no
time
.
Don
’
t
he
know
how
that
enlisted
man
struck
oil
with
a
shovel
back
in
the
States
?
Didn
’
t
he
ever
hear
what
happened
to
that
kid
—
what
was
the
name
of
that
rotten
rat
bastard
pimp
of
a
snotnose
back
in
Colorado
?
"
"
Wintergreen
.
"
"
Wintergreen
.
"
"
He
’
s
afraid
,
"
Yossarian
explained
.
"
Oh
,
no
.
Not
Wintergreen
.
"
Chief
White
Halfoat
shook
his
head
with
undisguised
admiration
.
"
That
stinking
little
punk
wise
-
guy
son
of
a
bitch
ain
’
t
afraid
of
nobody
.
"
"
Doc
Daneeka
’
s
afraid
.
That
’
s
what
’
s
the
matter
with
him
.
"
"
What
’
s
he
afraid
of
?
"
