ying with them as a man plays with puppies. Or else he probes them with the cruel hand of a vivisectionist, groping about in their mental processes and examining their souls as though to see of what soul-stuff is made. Inogda Volk Larsen kazhetsya mne prosto sumasshedshim ili, vo vsyakom sluchae, ne vpolne normal'nym -- stol'ko u nego strannostej i dikih prichud. Inogda zhe ya vizhu v nem zadatki velikogo cheloveka, geniya, ostavshiesya v zarodyshe. I nakonec, v chem ya sovershenno ubezhden, tak eto v tom, chto on yarchajshij tip pervobytnogo cheloveka, opozdavshego rodit'sya na tysyachu let ili pokolenij, zhivoj anahronizm v nash vek vysokoj civilizacii. Bessporno, on zakonchennyj individualist i, konechno, ochen' odinok. Mezhdu nim i vsem ekipazhem net nichego obshchego. Ego neobychajnaya fizicheskaya sila i sila ego lichnosti otgorazhivayut ego ot drugih. On smotrit na nih, kak na detej -- ne delaet isklyucheniya dazhe dlya ohotnikov, -- i obrashchaetsya s nimi, kak s det'mi, zastavlyaya sebya spuskat'sya do ih urovnya i poroj igraya s nimi, slovno so shchenkami. Inogda zhe on issleduet ih surovoj rukoj vivisektora i kopaetsya v ih dushah, kak by zhelaya ponyat', iz kakogo testa oni slepleny. I have seen him a score of times, at table, insulting this hunter or that, with cool and level eyes and, withal, a certain air of interest, pondering their actions or replies or petty rages with a curiosity almost laughable to me who stood onlooker and who understood. Concerning his own rages, I am convinced that they are not real, that they are sometimes experiments, but that in the main they are the habits of a pose or attitude he has seen fit to take toward his fellow-men. I know, with the possible exception of the incident of the dead mate, that I have not seen him really angry; nor do I wish ever to see him in a genuine rage, when all the force of him is called into play. Za stolom ya desyatki raz nablyudal, kak on, holodno i pristal'no glyadya na kogo-nibud' iz ohotnikov, prinimalsya oskorblyat' ego, a zatem s takim lyubopytstvom zhdal ot nego otveta, vernee, vspyshki bessil'nogo gneva, chto mne, storonnemu nablyudatelyu, ponimavshemu, v chem tut delo, stanovilos' smeshno. Kogda zhe on sam vpadaet v yarost', ona kazhetsya mne napusknoj. YA uveren, chto eto tol'ko manera derzhat'sya, soznatel'no usvoennaya im po otnosheniyu k okruzhayushchim, i on prosto pol'zuetsya eyu dlya svoih eksperimentov. Posle smerti ego pomoshchnika ya, v sushchnosti, ni razu bol'she ne videl Larsena po-nastoyashchemu razgnevannym da, priznat'sya, i ne zhelal by uvidet', kak vyrvetsya naruzhu vsya ego chudovishchnaya sila. While on the question of vagaries, I shall tell what befell Thomas Mugridge in the cabin, and at the same time complete an incident upon which I have already touched once or twice. The twelve o'clock dinner was over, one day, and I had just finished putting the cabin in order, when Wolf Larsen and Thomas Mugridge descended the companion stairs. Though the cook had a cubby-hole of a state- room opening off from the cabin, in the cabin itself he had never dared to linger or to be seen, and he flitted to and fro, once or twice a day, a timid spectre. Raz uzh zashla rech' o ego prihotyah, ya rasskazhu o tom, chto sluchilos' s Tomasom Magridzhem v kayut-kompanii, a zaodno pokonchu i s tem proisshestviem, o kotorom uzhe kak-to upominal. Odnazhdy posle obeda ya zakanchival uborku kayutkompanii, kak vdrug po trapu spustilis' Volk Larsen i Tomas Magridzh. Hotya konura koka primykala k kayutkompanii, on nikogda ne smel zaderzhivat'sya zdes' i robkoj ten'yu pospeshno proskal'zyval mimo dva-tri raza v den'. "So you know how to play 'Nap,'" Wolf Larsen was saying in a pleased sort of voice. "I might have guessed an Englishman would know. I learned it myself in English ships." -- Tak, znachit, ty igraesh' v "napoleon"? -- dovol'nym tonom proiznes Volk Larsen. -- Nu, razumeetsya, ty zhe anglichanin. YA sam nauchilsya etoj igre na anglijskih korablyah. Thomas Mugridge was beside himself, a blithering imbecile, so pleased was he at chumming thus with the captain. The little airs he put on and the painful striving to assume the easy carriage of a man born to a dignified place in life would have been sickening had they not been ludicrous. He quite ignored my presence, though I credited him with being simply unable to see me. His pale, wishy- washy eyes were swimming like lazy summer seas, though what blissful visions they beheld were beyond my imagination. |tot zhalkij chervyak, Tomas Magridzh, byl na sed'mom nebe ottogo, chto kapitan razgovarivaet s nim po-priyatel'ski, no vse ego uzhimki i muchitel'nye staraniya derzhat'sya s dostoinstvom i razygryvat' iz sebya cheloveka, rozhdennogo dlya luchshej zhiзni, mogli vyzvat' tol'ko omerzenie i smeh. Moe prisutstvie on sovershenno ignoriroval, vprochem, emu i na samom dele bylo ne do menya. Ego vodyanistye, vycvetshie glaza siyali, i u menya ne hvataet fantazii voobrazit' sebe, kakie blazhennye videniya nosilis' pered ego vzorom. "Get the cards, Hump," Wolf Larsen ordered, as they took seats at the table. "And bring out the cigars and the whisky you'll find in my berth." -- Podaj karty, Hemp, -- prikazal mne Volk Larsen, kogda oni uselis' za stol. -- I prinesi viski i sigary -- dostan' iz yashchika u menya pod kojkoj. I returned with the articles in time to hear the Cockney hinting broadly that there was a mystery about him, that he might be a gentleman's son gone wrong or something or other; also, that he was a remittance man and was paid to keep away from England - "p'yed 'ansomely, sir," was the way he put it; "p'yed 'ansomely to sling my 'ook an' keep slingin' it." Kogda ya vernulsya v kayut-kompaniyu, kok uzhe tumanno rasprostranyalsya o kakoj-to tajne, svyazannoj s ego rozhdeniem, namekaya, chto on -- sbivshijsya s puti syn blagorodnyh roditelej ili chto-to v etom rode i ego udalili iz Anglii i dazhe platyat emu den'gi za to, chtoby on ne vozvrashchalsya. "Horoshie den'gi platyat, -- poyasnil on, -- lish' by tam moim duhom ne pahlo". I had brought the customary liquor glasses, but Wolf Larsen frowned, shook his head, and signalled with his hands for me to bring the tumblers. These he filled two-thirds full with undiluted whisky - "a gentleman's drink?" quoth Thomas Mugridge, - and they clinked their glasses to the glorious game of "Nap," lighted cigars, and fell to shuffling and dealing the cards. YA prines bylo ryumki, no Volk Larsen nahmurilsya, pokachal golovoj i zhestom pokazal, chtoby ya podal stakany. On napolnil ih na dve treti nerazbavlennym viski -- "dzhentl'menskim napitkom", kak zametil Tomas Magridzh, -- i, choknuvshis' vo slavu velikolepnoj igry "nap", oni zakurili sigary i prinyalis' tasovat' i sdavat' karty. They played for money. They increased the amounts of the bets. They drank whisky, they drank it neat, and I fetched more. I do not know whether Wolf Larsen cheated or not, - a thing he was thoroughly capable of doing, - but he won steadily. The cook made repeated journeys to his bunk for money. Each time he performed the journey with greater swagger, but he never brought more than a few dollars at a time. He grew maudlin, familiar, could hardly see the cards or sit upright. As a preliminary to another journey to his bunk, he hooked Wolf Larsen's buttonhole with a greasy forefinger and vacuously proclaimed and reiterated, "I got money, I got money, I tell yer, an' I'm a gentleman's son." Oni igrali na den'gi, vse vremya uvelichivaya stavki, i pili viski, a kogda vypili vse, kapitan velel prinesti eshche. YA ne znayu, peredergival li Volk Larsen -- on byl vpolne sposoben na eto, -- no, tak ili inache, on neizmenno vyigryval. Kok snova i snova otpravlyalsya k svoej kojke za den'gami. Pri etom on strashno fanfaronil, no nikogda ne prinosil bol'she neskol'kih dollarov zaraz. On osovel, stal famil'yaren, ploho razbiral karty i edva ne padal so stula. Sobirayas' v ocherednoj raz otpravit'sya k sebe v kamorku, on gryaznym ukazatel'nym pal'cem zacepil Volka Larsena za petlyu kurtki i tupo zabubnil: -- U menya est' denezhki, est'! Govoryu vam: ya syn dzhentl'mena. Wolf Larsen was unaffected by the drink, yet he drank glass for glass, and if anything his glasses were fuller. There was no change in him. He did not appear even amused at the other's antics. Volk Larsen ne p'yanel, hotya pil stakan za stakanom; on nalival sebe viski nichut' ne men'she, chem koku, i vse zhe ya ne zamechal v nem ni malejshej peremeny. Vyhodki Magridzha, po-vidimomu, dazhe ne zabavlyali ego. In the end, with loud protestations that he could lose like a gentleman, the cook's last money was staked on the game - and lost. Whereupon he leaned his head on his hands and wept. Wolf Larsen looked curiously at him, as though about to probe and vivisect him, then changed his mind, as from the foregone conclusion that there was nothing there to probe. V konce koncov, torzhestvenno zayaviv, chto i proigryvat' on umeet, kak dzhentl'men, kok postavil poslednie den'gi i proigral. Posle etogo on zaplakal, uroniv golovu na ruki. Volk Larsen s lyubopytstvom poglyadel na nego, slovno sobirayas' odnim udarom skal'pelya vskryt' i issledovat' ego dushu, no, kak vidno, razdumal, soobraziv, chto zdes' i issledovat'-to, sobstvenno govorya, nechego. "Hump," he said to me, elaborately polite, "kindly take Mr. Mugridge's arm and help him up on deck. He is not feeling very well." -- Hemp, -- s podcherknutoj vezhlivost'yu obratilsya on ko mne, -- bud'te dobry, voz'mite mistera Magridzha pod ruku i otvedite na palubu. On sebya nevazhno chuvstvuet. "And tell Johnson to douse him with a few buckets of salt water," he added, in a lower tone for my ear alone. I skazhite Dzhonsonu, chtoby oni tam ugostili ego dvumya-tremya vedrami morskoj vody, -- dobavil on, poniziv golos. I left Mr. Mugridge on deck, in the hands of a couple of grinning sailors who had been told off for the purpose. Mr. Mugridge was sleepily spluttering that he was a gentleman's son. But as I descended the companion stairs to clear the table I heard him shriek as the first bucket of water struck him. YA ostavil koka na palube v rukah neskol'kih uhmylyayushchihsya matrosov, kotoryh Dzhonson pozval na podmogu. Mister Magridzh sonno bormotal, chto on "syn dzhentl'mena". Spuskayas' po trapu ubrat' v kayut-kompanii so stola, ya uslyhal, kak on zavopil ot pervogo vedra. Wolf Larsen was counting his winnings. Volk Larsen podschityval svoj vyigrysh. "One hundred and eighty-five dollars even," he said aloud. "Just as I thought. "The beggar came aboard without a cent." -- Rovno sto vosem'desyat pyat' dollarov, -- proiznes on vsluh. -- Tak ya i dumal. Brodyaga yavilsya na bort bez grosha v karmane. "And what you have won is mine, sir," I said boldly. -- I to, chto vy vyigrali, prinadlezhit mne, ser, -- smelo zayavil ya. He favoured me with a quizzical smile. On udostoil menya nasmeshlivoj ulybkoj. "Hump, I have studied some grammar in my time, and I think your tenses are tangled. 'Was mine,' you should have said, not 'is mine.'" -- YA ved' tozhe izuchal kogda-to grammatiku, Hemp, i mne kazhetsya, chto vy putaete vremena glagola. Vy dolzhny byli skazat' "prinadlezhalo". "It is a question, not of grammar, but of ethics," I answered. -- |to vopros ne grammatiki, a etiki, -- vozrazil ya. It was possibly a minute before he spoke. "D'ye know, Hump," he said, with a slow seriousness which had in it an indefinable strain of sadness, "that this is the first time I have heard the word 'ethics' in the mouth of a man. You and I are the only men on this ship who know its meaning." -- Znaete li vy, Hemp, -- medlenno i ser'ezno nachal on s edva ulovimoj grust'yu v golose, -- chto ya pervyj raz v zhizni slyshu slovo "etika" iz ch'ih-to ust? Vy i ya -- edinstvennye lyudi na etom korable, znayushchie smysl etogo slova. "At one time in my life," he continued, after another pause, "I dreamed that I might some day talk with men who used such language, that I might lift myself out of the place in life in which I had been born, and hold conversation and mingle with men who talked about just such things as ethics. And this is the first time I have ever heard the word pronounced. Which is all by the way, for you are wrong. It is a question neither of grammar nor ethics, but of fact." -- V moej zhizni byla pora, -- prodolzhal on posle novoj pauzy, -- kogda ya mechtal besedovat' s lyud'mi, govoryashchimi takim yazykom, mechtal, chto kogda-nibud' ya podnimus' nad toj sredoj, iz kotoroj vyshel, i budu obshchat'sya s lyud'mi, umeyushchimi rassuzhdat' o takih veshchah, kak etika. I vot teper' ya v pervyj raz uslyshal eto slovo. No eto vse mezhdu prochim. A po sushchestvu vy ne pravy. |to vopros ne grammatiki i ne etiki, a fakta. "I understand," I said. "The fact is that you have the money." -- Ponimayu, -- skazal ya, -- fakt tot, chto den'gi u vas. His face brightened. He seemed pleased at my perspicacity. "But it is avoiding the real question," I continued, "which is one of right." Ego lico prosvetlelo. Po-vidimomu, on ostalsya dovolen moej soobrazitel'nost'yu. -- No vy obhodite osnovnoj vopros, -- prodolzhal ya, -- kotoryj lezhit v oblasti prava. "Ah," he remarked, with a wry pucker of his mouth, "I see you still believe in such things as right and wrong." -- Vot kak! -- otozvalsya on, prezritel'no skriviv guby. -- YA vizhu, vy vse eshche verite v takie veshchi, kak "pravo" i "bespravie", "dobro" i "zlo". "But don't you? - at all?" I demanded. -- A vy ne verite? Sovsem? "Not the least bit. Might is right, and that is all there is to it. Weakness is wrong. Which is a very poor way of saying that it is good for oneself to be strong, and evil for oneself to be weak - or better yet, it is pleasurable to be strong, because of the profits; painful to be weak, because of the penalties. Just now the possession of this money is a pleasurable thing. It is good for one to possess it. Being able to possess it, I wrong myself and the life that is in me if I give it to you and forego the pleasure of possessing it." -- Ni na jotu. Sila vsegda prava. I k etomu vse svoditsya. A slabost' vsegda vinovata. Ili luchshe skazat' tak: byt' sil'nym -- eto dobro, a byt' slabym -- zlo. I eshche luchshe dazhe tak: sil'nym byt' priyatno potomu, chto eto vygodno, a slabym byt' nepriyatno, tak kak eto nevygodno. Vot, naprimer: vladet' etimi den'gami priyatno. Vladet' imi -- dobro. I potomu, imeya vozmozhnost' vladet' imi, ya budu nespravedliv k sebe i k zhizni vo mne, esli otdam ih vam i otkazhus' ot udovol'stviya obladat' imi. "But you wrong me by withholding it," I objected. -- No vy prichinyaete mne zlo, uderzhivaya ih u sebya, -- vozrazil ya. "Not at all. One man cannot wrong another man. He can only wrong himself. As I see it, I do wrong always when I consider the interests of others. Don't you see? How can two particles of the yeast wrong each other by striving to devour each other? It is their inborn heritage to strive to devour, and to strive not to be devoured. When they depart from this they sin." -- Nichego podobnogo! CHelovek ne mozhet prichinit' drugomu zlo. On mozhet prichinit' zlo tol'ko sebe samomu. YA ubezhden, chto postupayu durno vsyakij raz, kogda soblyudayu chuzhie interesy. Kak vy ne ponimaete? Mogut li dve chasticy drozhzhej obidet' odna druguyu pri vzaimnom pozhiranii? Stremlenie pozhirat' i stremlenie ne dat' sebya pozhrat' zalozheno v nih prirodoj. Narushaya etot zakon, oni vpadayut v greh. "Then you don't believe in altruism?" I asked. -- Tak vy ne verite v al'truizm? -- sprosil ya. He received the word as if it had a familiar ring, though he pondered it thoughtfully. "Let me see, it means something about cooperation, doesn't it?" Slovo eto, po-vidimomu, pokazalos' emu znakomym, no zastavilo zadumat'sya. -- Pogodite, eto, kazhetsya, chto-to otnositel'no sodejstviya drug drugu? "Well, in a way there has come to be a sort of connection," I answered unsurprised by this time at such gaps in his vocabulary, which, like his knowledge, was the acquirement of a self-read, self-educated man, whom no one had directed in his studies, and who had thought much and talked little or not at all. "An altruistic act is an act performed for the welfare of others. It is unselfish, as opposed to an act performed for self, which is selfish." -- Pozhaluj, nekotoraya svyaz' mezhdu etimi ponyatiyami sushchestvuet, -- otvetil ya, ne udivlyayas' probelu v ego slovare, tak kak svoimi poznaniyami on byl obyazan tol'ko chteniyu i samoobrazovaniyu. Nikto ne rukovodil ego zanyatiyami. On mnogo razmyshlyal, no emu malo prihodilos' besedovat'. -- Al'truisticheskim postupkom my nazyvaem takoj, kotoryj sovershaetsya dlya blaga drugih. |to beskorystnyj postupok v protivopolozhnost' egoisticheskomu. He nodded his head. On kivnul golovoj. "Oh, yes, I remember it now. I ran across it in Spencer." -- Tak, takTeper' ya pripominayu. |to slovo popadalos' mne u Spensera. "Spencer!" I cried. "Have you read him?" -- U Spensera?! -- voskliknul ya. -- Neuzheli vy chitali ego? "Not very much," was his confession. "I understood quite a good deal of FIRST PRINCIPLES, but his BIOLOGY took the wind out of my sails, and his PSYCHOLOGY left me butting around in the doldrums for many a day. I honestly could not understand what he was driving at. I put it down to mental deficiency on my part, but since then I have decided that it was for want of preparation. I had no proper basis. Only Spencer and myself know how hard I hammered. But I did get something out of his DATA OF ETHICS. There's where I ran across 'altruism,' and I remember now how it was used." -- CHital nemnogo, -- otvetil on. -- YA, kazhetsya, neploho razobralsya v "Osnovnyh nachalah", no na "Osnovaniyah biologii" moi parusa povisli, a na "Psihologii" ya i sovsem popal v mertvyj shtil'. Skazat' po pravde, ya ne ponyal, kuda on tam gnet. YA pripisal eto svoemu skudoumiyu, no teper' znayu, chto mne prosto ne hvatalo podgotovki. U menya ne bylo sootvetstvuyushchego fundamenta. Tol'ko odin Spenser da ya znaem, kak ya bilsya nad etimi knigami. No iz "Pokazatelej etiki" ya koe-chto izvlek. Tam-to ya i vstretilsya s etim samym "al'truizmom" i teper' pripominayu, v kakom smysle eto bylo skazano. I wondered what this man could have got from such a work. Spencer I remembered enough to know that altruism was imperative to his ideal of highest conduct. Wolf Larsen, evidently, had sifted the great philosopher's teachings, rejecting and selecting according to his needs and desires. "CHto mog izvlech' etot chelovek iz rabot Spensera?" -- podumal ya. Dostatochno horosho pomnya uchenie etogo filosofa, ya znal, chto al'truizm lezhit v osnove ego ideala chelovecheskogo povedeniya. Ochevidno, Volk Larsen bral iz ego ucheniya to, chto otvechalo ego sobstvennym potrebnostyam i zhelaniyam, otbrasyvaya vse, chto kazalos' emu lishnim. "What else did you run across?" I asked. -- CHto zhe eshche vy tam pocherpnuli? -- sprosil ya. His brows drew in slightly with the mental effort of suitably phrasing thoughts which he had never before put into speech. I felt an elation of spirit. I was groping into his soul-stuff as he made a practice of groping in the soul-stuff of others. I was exploring virgin territory. A strange, a terribly strange, region was unrolling itself before my eyes. On sdvinul brovi, vidimo, podbiraya slova dlya vyrazheniya svoih myslej, ostavavshihsya do sih por ne vyskazannymi. YA chuvstvoval sebya pripodnyato. Teper' ya staralsya proniknut' v ego dushu, podobno tomu kak on privyk pronikat' v dushi drugih. YA issledoval devstvennuyu oblast'. I strannoe -- strannoe i pugayushchee -- zrelishche otkryvalos' moemu vzoru. "In as few words as possible," he began, "Spencer puts it something like this: First, a man must act for his own benefit - to do this is to be moral and good. Next, he must act for the benefit of his children. And third, he must act for the benefit of his race." -- Korotko govorya, -- nachal on, -- Spenser rassuzhdaet tak: prezhde vsego chelovek dolzhen zabotit'sya o sobstvennom blage. Postupat' tak -- nravstvenno i horosho. Zatem, on dolzhen dejstvovat' na blago svoih detej. I, v-tret'ih, on dolzhen zabotit'sya o blage chelovechestva. "And the highest, finest, right conduct," I interjected, "is that act which benefits at the same time the man, his children, and his race." -- No naivysshim, samym razumnym i pravil'nym obrazom dejstvij, -- vstavil ya, -- budet takoj, kogda chelovek zabotitsya odnovremenno i o sebe, i o svoih detyah, i obo vsem chelovechestve. "I wouldn't stand for that," he replied. "Couldn't see the necessity for it, nor the common sense. I cut out the race and the children. I would sacrifice nothing for them. It's just so much slush and sentiment, and you must see it yourself, at least for one who does not believe in eternal life. With immortality before me, altruism would be a paying business proposition. I might elevate my soul to all kinds of altitudes. But with nothing eternal before me but death, given for a brief spell this yeasty crawling and squirming which is called life, why, it would be immoral for me to perform any act that was a sacrifice. Any sacrifice that makes me lose one crawl or squirm is foolish, - and not only foolish, for it is a wrong against myself and a wicked thing. I must not lose one crawl or squirm if I am to get the most out of the ferment. Nor will the eternal movelessness that is coming to me be made easier or harder by the sacrifices or selfishnesses of the time when I was yeasty and acrawl." -- |togo ya ne skazal by, -- otvechal on. -- Ne vizhu v etom ni neobhodimosti, ni zdravogo smysla. YA isklyuchayu chelovechestvo i detej. Radi nih ya nichem ne postupilsya by. |to vse slyunyavye bredni -- vo vsyakom sluchae dlya togo, kto ne verit v zagrobnuyu zhizn', -- i vy sami dolzhny eto ponimat'. Ver' ya v bessmertie, al'truizm byl by dlya menya vygodnym zanyatiem. YA mog by chert znaet kak vozvysit' svoyu dushu. No, ne vidya vperedi nichego vechnogo, krome smerti, i imeya v svoem rasporyazhenii lish' korotkij srok, poka vo mne shevelyatsya i brodyat drozhzhi, imenuemye zhizn'yu, ya postupal by beznravstvenno, prinosya kakuyu by to ni bylo zhertvu. Vsyakaya zhertva, kotoraya lishila by menya hot' miga brozheniya, byla by ne tol'ko glupa, no i beznravstvenna po otnosheniyu k samomu sebe. YA ne dolzhen teryat' nichego, obyazan kak mozhno luchshe ispol'zovat' svoyu zakvasku. Budu li ya prinosit' zhertvy ili stanu zabotit'sya tol'ko o sebe v tot otmerennyj mne srok, poka ya sostavlyayu chasticu drozhzhej i polzayu po zemle, -- ot etogo ozhidayushchaya menya vechnaya nepodvizhnost' ne budet dlya menya ni legche, ni tyazhelee. "Then you are an individualist, a materialist, and, logically, a hedonist." -- V takom sluchae vy individualist, materialist i, estestvenno, gedonist. "Big words," he smiled. "But what is a hedonist?" -- Gromkie slova! -- ulybnulsya on. -- No chto takoe "gedonist"? He nodded agreement when I had given the definition. Vyslushav moe opredelenie, on odobritel'no kivnul golovoj. "And you are also," I continued, "a man one could not trust in the least thing where it was possible for a selfish interest to intervene?" -- A krome togo, -- prodolzhal ya, -- vy takoj chelovek, kotoromu nel'zya doveryat' dazhe v melochah, kak tol'ko k delu primeshivayutsya lichnye interesy. "Now you're beginning to understand," he said, brightening. -- Vot teper' vy nachinaete ponimat' menya, -- obradovano skazal on. "You are a man utterly without what the world calls morals?" -- Tak vy chelovek, sovershenno lishennyj togo, chto prinyato nazyvat' moral'yu? "That's it." -- Sovershenno. "A man of whom to be always afraid - " -- CHelovek, kotorogo vsegda nado boyat'sya? "That's the way to put it." -- Vot eto pravil'no. "As one is afraid of a snake, or a tiger, or a shark?" -- Boyat'sya, kak boyatsya zmei, tigra ili akuly? "Now you know me," he said. "And you know me as I am generally known. Other men call me 'Wolf.'" -- Teper' vy znaete menya, -- skazal on. -- Znaete menya takim, kakim menya znayut vse. Ved' menya nazyvayut Volkom. "You are a sort of monster," I added audaciously, "a Caliban who has pondered Setebos, and who acts as you act, in idle moments, by whim and fancy." -- Vy -- chudovishche, -- besstrashno zayavil ya, -- Kaliban [5], kotoryj razmyshlyal o Setebose [6] i postupal, podobno vam, pod vliyaniem minutnogo kapriza. His brow clouded at the allusion. He did not understand, and I quickly learned that he did not know the poem. On ne ponyal etogo sravneniya i nahmurilsya; ya uvidel, chto on, dolzhno byt', ne chital etoj poemy. "I'm just reading Browning," he confessed, "and it's pretty tough. I haven't got very far along, and as it is I've about lost my bearings." -- YA sejchas kak raz chitayu Brauninga [7], -- priznalsya Larsen, -- da chto-to tugo podvigaetsya. Eshche nedaleko ushel, a uzhe izryadno zaputalsya. Not to he tiresome, I shall say that I fetched the book from his state-room and read "Caliban" aloud. He was delighted. It was a primitive mode of reasoning and of looking at things that he understood thoroughly. He interrupted again and again with comment and criticism. When I finished, he had me read it over a second time, and a third. We fell into discussion - philosophy, science, evolution, religion. He betrayed the inaccuracies of the self-read man, and, it must be granted, the sureness and directness of the primitive mind. The very simplicity of his reasoning was its strength, and his materialism was far more compelling than the subtly complex materialism of Charley Furuseth. Not that I - a confirmed and, as Furuseth phrased it, a temperamental idealist - was to be compelled; but that Wolf Larsen stormed the last strongholds of my faith with a vigour that received respect, while not accorded conviction. Nu, koroche, ya sbegal k nemu v kayutu za knizhkoj i prochel emu "Kalibana" [8] vsluh. On byl voshishchen. |tot uproshchennyj vzglyad na veshchi i primitivnyj sposob rassuzhdeniya byl vpolne dostupen ego ponimaniyu. Vremya ot vremeni on vstavlyal zamechaniya i kritikoval nedostatki poemy. Kogda ya konchil, on zastavil menya perechest' emu poemu vo vtoroj i v tretij raz, posle chego my uglubilis' v spor -- o filosofii, nauke, evolyucii, religii. Ego rassuzhdeniya otlichalis' netochnost'yu, svojstvennoj samouchke, i bezapellyacionnoj pryamolinejnost'yu, prisushchej pervobytnomu umu. No v samoj primitivnosti ego suzhdenij byla sila, i ego primitivnyj materializm byl kuda ubeditel'nee tonkih i zamyslovatyh materialisticheskih postroenij CHarli Feraseta. |tim ya ne hochu skazat', chto on pereubedil menya, zakorenelogo ili, kak vyrazhalsya Feraset, "prirozhdennogo" idealista. No Volk Larsen shturmoval ustoi moej very s takoj siloj, kotoraya nevol'no vnushala uvazhenie, hotya i ne mogla menya pokolebat'. Time passed. Supper was at hand and the table not laid. I became restless and anxious, and when Thomas Mugridge glared down the companion-way, sick and angry of countenance, I prepared to go about my duties. But Wolf Larsen cried out to him: Vremya shlo. Pora bylo uzhinat', a stol eshche ne byl nakryt. YA nachal proyavlyat' bespokojstvo, i, kogda Tomas Magridzh, zloj i hmuryj, kak tucha, zaglyanul v kayutkompaniyu, ya vstal, sobirayas' pristupit' k svoim obyazannostyam. No Volk Larsen kriknul Magridzhu: "Cooky, you've got to hustle to-night. I'm busy with Hump, and you'll do the best you can without him." -- Kok, segodnya tebe pridetsya pohlopotat' samomu, Hemp nuzhen mne. Obojdis' bez nego. And again the unprecedented was established. That night I sat at table with the captain and the hunters, while Thomas Mugridge waited on us and washed the dishes afterward - a whim, a Caliban- mood of Wolf Larsen's, and one I foresaw would bring me trouble. In the meantime we talked and talked, much to the disgust of the hunters, who could not understand a word. I snova proizoshlo nechto neslyhannoe. V etot vecher ya sidel za stolom s kapitanom i ohotnikami, a Tomas Magridzh prisluzhival nam, a potom myl posudu. |to byla kalibanovskaya prihot' Volka Larsena, i ona sulila mne mnogo nepriyatnostej. No poka chto my s nim govorili i govorili bez konca, k velikomu neudovol'stviyu ohotnikov, ne ponimavshih ni slova. CHAPTER IX GLAVA IX Three days of rest, three blessed days of rest, are what I had with Wolf Larsen, eating at the cabin table and doing nothing but discuss life, literature, and the universe, the while Thomas Mugridge fumed and raged and did my work as well as his own. Tri dnya, tri blazhennyh dnya, otdyhal ya, provodya vse svoe vremya v obshchestve Volka Larsena. YA el za stolom v kayut-kompanii i tol'ko i delal, chto besedoval s kapitanom o zhizni, literature i zakonah mirozdaniya. Tomas Magridzh rval i metal, no ispolnyal za menya vsyu rabotu. "Watch out for squalls, is all I can say to you," was Louis's warning, given during a spare half-hour on deck while Wolf Larsen was engaged in straightening out a row among the hunters. "Ye can't tell what'll be happenin'," Louis went on, in response to my query for more definite information. "The man's as contrary as air currents or water currents. You can never guess the ways iv him. 'Tis just as you're thinkin' you know him and are makin' a favourable slant along him, that he whirls around, dead ahead and comes howlin' down upon you and a-rippin' all iv your fine-weather sails to rags." -- Beregis' shkvalaBol'she ya tebe nichego ne skazhu, -- predostereg menya Luis, kogda my na polchasa ostalis' s nim vdvoem na palube. Volk Larsen ulazhival v eto vremya ocherednuyu ssoru mezhdu ohotnikami. -- Nikogda nel'zya skazat' napered, chto mozhet sluchit'sya, -- prodolzhal Luis v otvet na moj nedoumennyj vopros. -- Starik izmenchiv, kak vetry i morskie techeniya. Nikogda ne ugadaesh', chto on mozhet vykinut'. Tebe kazhetsya, chto ty uzhe znaesh' ego, chto ty horosho s nim ladish', a on tut-to kak raz i povernet, kinetsya na tebya i razneset v kloch'ya tvoi parusa, kotorye ty postavil v raschete na horoshuyu pogodu. So I was not altogether surprised when the squall foretold by Louis smote me. We had been having a heated discussion, - upon life, of course, - and, grown over-bold, I was passing stiff strictures upon Wolf Larsen and the life of Wolf Larsen. In fact, I was vivisecting him and turning over his soul-stuff as keenly and thoroughly as it was his custom to do it to others. It may be a weakness of mine that I have an incisive way of speech; but I threw all restraint to the winds and cut and slashed until the whole man of him was snarling. The dark sun-bronze of his face went black with wrath, his eyes were ablaze. There was no clearness or sanity in them - nothing but the terrific rage of a madman. It was the wolf in him that I saw, and a mad wolf at that. Poetomu ya ne byl osobenno udivlen, kogda predskazannyj Luisom shkval naletel na menya. Mezhdu mnoj i kapitanom proizoshel goryachij spor -- o zhizni, konechno; i, ne v meru rashrabrivshis', ya nachal osuzhdat' samogo Volka Larsena i ego postupki. Dolzhen skazat', chto ya vskryval i vyvorachival naiznanku ego dushu tak zhe osnovatel'no, kak on privyk prodelyvat' eto s drugimi. Priznayus', rech' moya voobshche rezka. A tut ya otbrosil vsyakuyu sderzhannost', kolol i hlestal Larsena, poka on ne rassvirepel. Bronzovoe lico ego potemnelo ot gneva, glaza sverknuli. V nih uzhe ne bylo ni probleska soznaniya -- nichego, krome slepoj, bezumnoj yarosti. YA videl pered soboj volka, i pritom volka beshenogo. He sprang for me with a half-roar, gripping my arm. I had steeled myself to brazen it out, though I was trembling inwardly; but the enormous strength of the man was too much for my fortitude. S gluhim vozglasom, pohozhim na rev, on prygnul ko mne i shvatil menya za ruku. YA sobralsya s duhom i vzglyanul emu pryamo v glaza, hotya menya probirala drozh'. -- No chudovishchnaya sila etogo cheloveka slomila moyu volyu. He had gripped me by the biceps with his single hand, and when that grip tightened I wilted and shrieked aloud. My feet went out from under me. I simply could not stand upright and endure the agony. The muscles refused their duty. The pain was too great. My biceps was being crushed to a pulp. On derzhal menya za ruku vyshe loktya, i, kogda on szhal pal'cy, ya poshatnulsya i vskriknul ot boli. Nogi u menya podkosilis', ya ne v silah byl terpet' etu pytku. Mne kazalos', chto ruka moya budet sejchas razdavlena. He seemed to recover himself, for a lucid gleam came into his eyes, and he relaxed his hold with a short laugh that was more like a growl. I fell to the floor, feeling very faint, while he sat down, lighted a cigar, and watched me as a cat watches a mouse. As I writhed about I could see in his eyes that curiosity I had so often noted, that wonder and perplexity, that questing, that everlasting query of his as to what it was all about. Vnezapno Larsen prishel v sebya, v glazah ego snova zasvetilos' soznanie, i on otpustil moyu ruku s korotkim smeshkom, napominavshim rychanie. Srazu obessilev, ya povalilsya na pol, a on sel, zakuril sigaru i stal nablyudat' za mnoj, kak koshka, steregushchaya mysh'. Korchas' na polu ot boli, ya ulovil v ego glazah lyubopytstvo, kotoroe ne raz uzhe podmechal v nih, -- lyubopytstvo, udivlenie i vopros: k chemu vse eto? I finally crawled to my feet and ascended the companion stairs. Fair weather was over, and there was nothing left but to return to the galley. My left arm was numb, as though paralysed, and days passed before I could use it, while weeks went by before the last stiffness and pain went out of it. And he had done nothing but put his hand upon my arm and squeeze. There had been no wrenching or jerking. He had just closed his hand with a steady pressure. What he might have done I did not fully realize till next day, when he put his head into the galley, and, as a sign of renewed friendliness, asked me how my arm was getting on. Koe-kak vstav na nogi, ya podnyalsya po trapu. Prishel konec horoshej pogode, i ne ostavalos' nichego drugogo, kak vernut'sya v kambuz. Levaya ruka u menya onemela, slovno paralizovannaya, i v techenie neskol'kih dnej ya pochti eyu ne vladel, a skovannost' i bol' chuvstvovalis' v nej eshche mnogo nedel' spustya. Mezhdu tem Larsen prosto shvatil ee i szhal. On ne lomal i ne vyvertyval mne ruku i tol'ko stisnul ee pal'cami. CHto mne grozilo, ya ponyal lish' na drugoj den', kogda on prosunul golovu v kambuz i, v znak vozobnovleniya druzhby, osvedomilsya, ne bolit li u menya ruka. "It might have been worse," he smiled. -- Moglo konchit'sya huzhe! -- usmehnulsya on. I was peeling potatoes. He picked one up from the pan. It was fair-sized, firm, and unpeeled. He closed his hand upon it, squeezed, and the potato squirted out between his fingers in mushy streams. The pulpy remnant he dropped back into the pan and turned away, and I had a sharp vision of how it might have fared with me had the monster put his real strength upon me. YA chistil kartofel'. Larsen vzyal v ruku kartofelinu. Ona byla bol'shaya, tverdaya, neochishchennaya. On szhal kulak, i zhidkaya kashica potekla u nego mezhdu pal'cami. On brosil v chan to, chto ostalos' u nego v kulake, povernulsya i ushel. A mne stalo yasno, vo chto prevratilas' by moya ruka, esli by eto chudovishche primenilo vsyu svoyu silu. But the three days' rest was good in spite of it all, for it had given my knee the very chance it needed. It felt much better, the swelling had materially decreased, and the cap seemed descending into its proper place. Also, the three days' rest brought the trouble I had foreseen. It was plainly Thomas Mugridge's intention to make me pay for those three days. He treated me vilely, cursed me continually, and heaped his own work upon me. He even ventured to raise his fist to me, but I was becoming animal-like myself, and I snarled in his face so terribly that it must have frightened him back. It is no pleasant picture I can conjure up of myself, Humphrey Van Weyden, in that noisome ship's galley, crouched in a corner over my task, my face raised to the face of the creature about to strike me, my lips lifted and snarling like a dog's, my eyes gleaming with fear and helplessness and the courage that comes of fear and helplessness. I do not like the picture. It reminds me too strongly of a rat in a trap. I do not care to think of it; but it was elective, for the threatened blow did not descend. Odnako trehdnevnyj pokoj kak-nikak poshel mne na pol'zu. Koleno moe poluchilo nakonec neobhodimyj otdyh, i opuhol' zametno spala, a kolennaya chashechka stala na mesto. Odnako eti tri dnya otdyha prinesli mne i nepriyatnosti, kotorye ya predvidel. Tomas Magridzh yavno staralsya zastavit' menya rasplatit'sya za poluchennyj otdyh spolna. On zlobstvoval, branilsya na chem svet stoit i vzvalival na menya svoyu rabotu. Raz dazhe on zamahnulsya na menya kulakom. No ya uzhe i sam ozverel i ogryznulsya tak svirepo, chto on strusil i otstupil. Maloprivlekatel'nuyu, dolzhno byt', kartinu predstavlyal ya, Hemfri Van-Vejden, v etu minutu. YA sidel v uglu vonyuchego kambuza, skorchivshis' nad svoej rabotoj, a etot negodyaj stoyal peredo mnoj i ugrozhal mne kulakom. YA glyadel na nego, oshcherivshis', kak sobaka, sverkaya glazami, v kotoryh bespomoshchnost' i strah smeshivalis' s muzhestvom otchayaniya. Ne nravitsya mne eta kartina. Boyus', chto ya byl ochen' pohozh na zatravlennuyu krysu. No koe-chego ya vse zhe dostig -- zanesennyj kulak ne opustilsya na menya. Thomas Mugridge backed away, glaring as hatefully and viciously as I glared. A pair of beasts is what we were, penned together and showing our teeth. He was a coward, afraid to strike me because I had not quailed sufficiently in advance; so he chose a new way to intimidate me. There was only one galley knife that, as a knife, amounted to anything. This, through many years of service and wear, had acquired a long, lean blade. It was unusually cruel- looking, and at first I had shuddered every time I used it. The cook borrowed a stone from Johansen and proceeded to sharpen the knife. He did it with great ostentation, glancing significantly at me the while. He whetted it up and down all day long. Every odd moment he could find he had the knife and stone out and was whetting away. The steel acquired a razor edge. He tried it with the ball of his thumb or across the nail. He shaved hairs from the back of his hand, glanced along the edge with microscopic acuteness, and found, or feigned that he found, always, a slight inequality in its edge somewhere. Then he would put it on the stone again and whet, whet, whet, till I could have laughed aloud, it was so very ludicrous. Tomas Magridzh popyatilsya. V glazah ego svetilas' takaya zhe nenavist' i zloba, kak i v moih. My byli slovno dva zverya, zapertye v odnoj kletke i zlobno skalyashchie drug na druga zuby. Magridzh byl trus i boyalsya udarit' menya potomu, chto ya ne slishkom orobel pered nim. Togda on pridumal drugoj sposob zastrashchat' menya. V kuhne byl vsego odin bolee ili menee ispravnyj nozh. Ot dolgogo upotrebleniya lezvie ego stalo uzkim i tonkim. |tot nozh imel neobychajno zloveshchij vid, i pervoe vremya ya vsegda s sodroganiem bral ego v ruki. Kok vzyal u Iogansena oselok i prinyalsya s podcherknutym rveniem tochit' etot nozh, mnogoznachitel'no poglyadyvaya na menya. On tochil ego ves' den'. CHut' u nego vydavalas' svobodnaya minutka, on hvatal nozh i prinimalsya tochit' ego. Lezvie nozha priobrelo ostrotu britvy. On proboval ego na pal'ce i nogtem. On sbrival voloski u sebya s ruki, prishchuriv glaz, glyadel vdol'