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A Double Barreled Detective Story by Mark Twain, PART I. CHAPTER V.

PART I. CHAPTER V.

The next day came and went.

It is now almost midnight, and in five minutes the new morning will begin. The scene is in the tavern billiard-room. Rough men in rough clothing, slouch-hats, breeches stuffed into boot-tops, some with vests, none with coats, are grouped about the boiler-iron stove, which has ruddy cheeks and is distributing a grateful warmth; the billiard-balls are clacking; there is no other sound—that is, within; the wind is fitfully moaning without. The men look bored; also expectant. A hulking broad-shouldered miner, of middle age, with grizzled whiskers, and an unfriendly eye set in an unsociable face, rises, slips a coil of fuse upon his arm, gathers up some other personal properties, and departs without word or greeting to anybody. It is Flint Buckner. As the door closes behind him a buzz of talk breaks out.

"The regularest man that ever was," said Jake Parker, the blacksmith; "you can tell when it's twelve just by him leaving, without looking at your Waterbury." "And it's the only virtue he's got, as fur as I know," said Peter Hawes, miner. "He's just a blight on this society," said Wells-Fargo's man, Ferguson. "If I was running this shop I'd make him say something, some time or other, or vamos the ranch." This with a suggestive glance at the barkeeper, who did not choose to see it, since the man under discussion was a good customer, and went home pretty well set up, every night, with refreshments furnished from the bar.

"Say," said Ham Sandwich, miner, "does any of you boys ever recollect of him asking you to take a drink?" "Him? Flint Buckner? Oh, Laura!" This sarcastic rejoinder came in a spontaneous general outburst in one form of words or another from the crowd. After a brief silence, Pat Riley, miner, said,

"He's the 15-puzzle, that cuss. And his boy's another one. I can't make them out." "Nor anybody else," said Ham Sandwich; "and if they are 15-puzzles how are you going to rank up that other one? When it comes to A 1 right-down solid mysteriousness, he lays over both of them. Easy—don't he?" "You bet!" Everybody said it. Every man but one. He was the new-comer—Peterson. He ordered the drinks all round, and asked who No. 3 might be. All answered at once, "Archy Stillman!" "Is he a mystery?" asked Peterson.

"Is he a mystery? Is Archy Stillman a mystery?" said Wells-Fargo's man, Ferguson. "Why, the fourth dimension's foolishness to him." For Ferguson was learned.

Peterson wanted to hear all about him; everybody wanted to tell him; everybody began. But Billy Stevens, the barkeeper, called the house to order, and said one at a time was best. He distributed the drinks, and appointed Ferguson to lead. Ferguson said,

"Well, he's a boy. And that is just about all we know about him. You can pump him till you are tired; it ain't any use; you won't get anything. At least about his intentions, or line of business, or where he's from, and such things as that. And as for getting at the nature and get-up of his main big chief mystery, why, he'll just change the subject, that's all. You can guess till you're black in the face—it's your privilege—but suppose you do, where do you arrive at? Nowhere, as near as I can make out." "What is his big chief one?" "Sight, maybe. Hearing, maybe. Instinct, maybe. Magic, maybe. Take your choice—grownups, twenty-five; children and servants, half price. Now I'll tell you what he can do. You can start here, and just disappear; you can go and hide wherever you want to, I don't care where it is, nor how far—and he'll go straight and put his finger on you." "You don't mean it!" "I just do, though. Weather's nothing to him—elemental conditions is nothing to him—he don't even take notice of them." "Oh, come! Dark? Rain? Snow? Hey?" "It's all the same to him. He don't give a damn." "Oh, say—including fog, per'aps?" "Fog! he's got an eye 't can plunk through it like a bullet." "Now, boys, honor bright, what's he giving me?" "It's a fact!" they all shouted. "Go on, Wells-Fargo." "Well, sir, you can leave him here, chatting with the boys, and you can slip out and go to any cabin in this camp and open a book—yes, sir, a dozen of them—and take the page in your memory, and he'll start out and go straight to that cabin and open every one of them books at the right page, and call it off, and never make a mistake." "He must be the devil!" "More than one has thought it. Now I'll tell you a perfectly wonderful thing that he done. The other night he—" There was a sudden great murmur of sounds outside, the door flew open, and an excited crowd burst in, with the camp's one white woman in the lead and crying, "My child! my child! she's lost and gone! For the love of God help me to find Archy Stillman; we've hunted everywhere!" Said the barkeeper:

"Sit down, sit down, Mrs. Hogan, and don't worry. He asked for a bed three hours ago, tuckered out tramping the trails the way he's always doing, and went upstairs. Ham Sandwich, run up and roust him out; he's in No. 14." The youth was soon downstairs and ready. He asked Mrs. Hogan for particulars.

"Bless you, dear, there ain't any; I wish there was. I put her to sleep at seven in the evening, and when I went in there an hour ago to go to bed myself, she was gone. I rushed for your cabin, dear, and you wasn't there, and I've hunted for you ever since, at every cabin down the gulch, and now I've come up again, and I'm that distracted and scared and heart-broke; but, thanks to God, I've found you at last, dear heart, and you'll find my child. Come on! come quick!" "Move right along; I'm with you, madam. Go to your cabin first." The whole company streamed out to join the hunt. All the southern half of the village was up, a hundred men strong, and waiting outside, a vague dark mass sprinkled with twinkling lanterns. The mass fell into columns by threes and fours to accommodate itself to the narrow road, and strode briskly along southward in the wake of the leaders. In a few minutes the Hogan cabin was reached.

"There's the bunk," said Mrs. Hogan; "there's where she was; it's where I laid her at seven o'clock; but where she is now, God only knows." "Hand me a lantern," said Archy. He set it on the hard earth floor and knelt by it, pretending to examine the ground closely. "Here's her track," he said, touching the ground here and there and yonder with his finger. "Do you see?" Several of the company dropped upon their knees and did their best to see. One or two thought they discerned something like a track; the others shook their heads and confessed that the smooth hard surface had no marks upon it which their eyes were sharp enough to discover. One said, "Maybe a child's foot could make a mark on it, but I don't see how." Young Stillman stepped outside, held the light to the ground, turned leftward, and moved three steps, closely examining; then said, "I've got the direction—come along; take the lantern, somebody." He strode off swiftly southward, the files following, swaying and bending in and out with the deep curves of the gorge. Thus a mile, and the mouth of the gorge was reached; before them stretched the sagebrush plain, dim, vast, and vague. Stillman called a halt, saying, "We mustn't start wrong, now; we must take the direction again." He took a lantern and examined the ground for a matter of twenty yards; then said, "Come on; it's all right," and gave up the lantern. In and out among the sage-bushes he marched, a quarter of a mile, bearing gradually to the right; then took a new direction and made another great semicircle; then changed again and moved due west nearly half a mile—and stopped.

"She gave it up, here, poor little chap. Hold the lantern. You can see where she sat." But this was in a slick alkali flat which was surfaced like steel, and no person in the party was quite hardy enough to claim an eyesight that could detect the track of a cushion on a veneer like that. The bereaved mother fell upon her knees and kissed the spot, lamenting.

"But where is she, then?" some one said. "She didn't stay here. We can see that much, anyway." Stillman moved about in a circle around the place, with the lantern, pretending to hunt for tracks.

"Well!" he said presently, in an annoyed tone, "I don't understand it." He examined again. "No use. She was here—that's certain; she never walked away from here—and that's certain. It's a puzzle; I can't make it out." The mother lost heart then.

"Oh, my God! oh, blessed Virgin! some flying beast has got her. I'll never see her again!" "Ah, don't give up," said Archy. "We'll find her—don't give up." "God bless you for the words, Archy Stillman!" and she seized his hand and kissed it fervently.

Peterson, the new-comer, whispered satirically in Ferguson's ear: "Wonderful performance to find this place, wasn't it? Hardly worth while to come so far, though; any other supposititious place would have answered just as well—hey?" Ferguson was not pleased with the innuendo. He said, with some warmth,

"Do you mean to insinuate that the child hasn't been here? I tell you the child has been here! Now if you want to get yourself into as tidy a little fuss as—" "All right!" sang out Stillman. "Come, everybody, and look at this! It was right under our noses all the time, and we didn't see it." There was a general plunge for the ground at the place where the child was alleged to have rested, and many eyes tried hard and hopefully to see the thing that Archy's finger was resting upon. There was a pause, then a several-barrelled sigh of disappointment. Pat Riley and Ham Sandwich said, in the one breath,

"What is it, Archy? There's nothing here." "Nothing? Do you call that nothing?" and he swiftly traced upon the ground a form with his finger. "There—don't you recognize it now? It's Injun Billy's track. He's got the child." "God be praised!" from the mother.

"Take away the lantern. I've got the direction. Follow!" He started on a run, racing in and out among the sage-bushes a matter of three hundred yards, and disappeared over a sand-wave; the others struggled after him, caught him up, and found him waiting. Ten steps away was a little wickieup, a dim and formless shelter of rags and old horse-blankets, a dull light showing through its chinks.

"You lead, Mrs. Hogan," said the lad. "It's your privilege to be first." All followed the sprint she made for the wickieup, and saw, with her, the picture its interior afforded. Injun Billy was sitting on the ground; the child was asleep beside him. The mother hugged it with a wild embrace, which included Archy Stillman, the grateful tears running down her face, and in a choked and broken voice she poured out a golden stream of that wealth of worshiping endearments which has its home in full richness nowhere but in the Irish heart.

"I find her bymeby it is ten o'clock," Billy explained. "She 'sleep out yonder, ve'y tired—face wet, been cryin', 'spose; fetch her home, feed her, she heap much hungry—go 'sleep 'gin." In her limitless gratitude the happy mother waived rank and hugged him too, calling him "the angel of God in disguise." And he probably was in disguise if he was that kind of an official. He was dressed for the character.

PART I. CHAPTER V. ЧАСТЬ I. ГЛАВА V.

The next day came and went. Наступний день минув, як день.

It is now almost midnight, and in five minutes the new morning will begin. The scene is in the tavern billiard-room. ||||||billiard room| Дія відбувається в більярдній кімнаті таверни. Rough men in rough clothing, slouch-hats, breeches stuffed into boot-tops, some with vests, none with coats, are grouped about the boiler-iron stove, which has ruddy cheeks and is distributing a grateful warmth; the billiard-balls are clacking; there is no other sound—that is, within; the wind is fitfully moaning without. |||||stoop||pants|||||||waistcoats||||||||boiler|||||reddish||||||||||||||||||||||||irregularly, intermittently|sorrowful sound| Грубые мужчины в грубой одежде, сутулых шапках, бриджах, заправленных в сапоги, некоторые в жилетах, ни одного в пальто, сгрудились у чугунной печки, румяные щеки которой излучают благодарное тепло; стучат бильярдные шары; других звуков нет - то есть внутри; ветер неистово стонет снаружи. Грубі чоловіки в грубому одязі, крислатих шапках, штанях, запханих у халяви чобіт, дехто в жилетах, ніхто в пальто, групуються навколо чавунної грубки, яка з рум'яними щоками роздає вдячне тепло; клацають більярдні кулі, більше жодного звуку - тобто всередині; вітер пристойно стогне ззовні. The men look bored; also expectant. Мужчины выглядят скучающими, но в то же время ожидающими. Чоловіки виглядають нудьгуючими, а також очікуючими. A hulking broad-shouldered miner, of middle age, with grizzled whiskers, and an unfriendly eye set in an unsociable face, rises, slips a coil of fuse upon his arm, gathers up some other personal properties, and departs without word or greeting to anybody. |large and heavy||||||||gray-haired|||||||||||||||||||||||||||leaves quietly|||||| Поднимается громадный широкоплечий шахтер средних лет, с всклокоченными усами и недружелюбным взглядом на необщительном лице, накидывает на руку катушку с предохранителем, собирает еще какое-то личное имущество и уходит, ни с кем не здороваясь. Кремезний широкоплечий шахтар середнього віку, з сивими вусами і непривітним поглядом на непривітному обличчі, підводиться, накидає на руку котушку запобіжника, збирає ще якісь особисті речі і йде, не сказавши нікому ні слова, ні привітання. It is Flint Buckner. As the door closes behind him a buzz of talk breaks out. Как только за ним закрывается дверь, начинается шумный разговор. Коли двері за ним зачиняються, здіймається гамір розмов.

"The regularest man that ever was," said Jake Parker, the blacksmith; "you can tell when it's twelve just by him leaving, without looking at your Waterbury." |most regular||||||Jake|Parker|||||||||||||||||watch "Самый регулярный человек на свете", - сказал Джейк Паркер, кузнец; "вы можете определить, когда наступит двенадцать, просто по его уходу, не глядя на ваш Уотербери". "Найрегулярніша людина, яка коли-небудь існувала", - сказав Джейк Паркер, коваль; "Ви можете сказати, коли дванадцята година, просто по тому, як він іде, не дивлячись на ваш Waterbury". "And it's the only virtue he's got, as fur as I know," said Peter Hawes, miner. ||||virtue||||||||||Hawes| "І це єдина чеснота, яку він має, наскільки я знаю", - сказав Пітер Хоз, шахтар. "He's just a blight on this society," said Wells-Fargo's man, Ferguson. |||nuisance||||||Wells Fargo's|| "Он - просто пятно на этом обществе", - сказал человек Уэллса-Фарго, Фергюсон. "Він просто прокляття для цього суспільства", - сказав Фергюсон, співробітник Wells-Fargo. "If I was running this shop I'd make him say something, some time or other, or vamos the ranch." ||||||||||||||||let's go|| "Если бы я управлял этим магазином, я бы заставил его сказать что-нибудь, в то или иное время, или же отправился бы на ранчо". "Якби я керував цим магазином, я б змусив його щось сказати, в той чи інший час, або вамос на ранчо". This with a suggestive glance at the barkeeper, who did not choose to see it, since the man under discussion was a good customer, and went home pretty well set up, every night, with refreshments furnished from the bar. |||||||bar staff|||||||||||||||||||||||||||drinks and snacks|||| Он бросил многозначительный взгляд на бармена, который не желал этого замечать, поскольку обсуждаемый мужчина был хорошим клиентом и каждый вечер уходил домой хорошо подкрепившись в баре. При цьому він натякає на бармена, але той не звертає на це уваги, оскільки чоловік, про якого йде мова, був хорошим клієнтом і щовечора йшов додому досить добре забезпеченим, з напоями з бару, які йому приносили.

"Say," said Ham Sandwich, miner, "does any of you boys ever recollect of him asking you to take a drink?" "Скажите, - сказал шахтер Хэм Сэндвич, - кто-нибудь из вас, мальчики, помнит, как он просил вас выпить?" "Скажіть, - запитав шахтар Сандвіч з шинкою, - хто-небудь з вас, хлопці, пам'ятає, щоб він коли-небудь просив вас випити?" "Him? Flint Buckner? Oh, Laura!" |Laura О, Лоро!" This sarcastic rejoinder came in a spontaneous general outburst in one form of words or another from the crowd. ||response|||||||||||||||| Эта саркастическая реплика вызвала спонтанный всеобщий взрыв слов в той или иной форме из толпы. Ця саркастична репліка була спонтанною загальною реакцією натовпу в тій чи іншій формі. After a brief silence, Pat Riley, miner, said,

"He's the 15-puzzle, that cuss. ||||rascal "Он - пятнадцатипалый, этот прохвост. "Він - 15-пазл, цей проклятий. And his boy's another one. А його син - ще один. I can't make them out." Я не могу их разобрать". Я не можу їх розібрати". "Nor anybody else," said Ham Sandwich; "and if they are 15-puzzles how are you going to rank up that other one? "И никто другой, - сказал Сэндвич с ветчиной, - и если они состоят из 15 головоломок, как ты собираешься отнести к ним еще одну? "І ніхто інший, - відповів Бутерброд з шинкою, - а якщо вони по 15 пазлів, то як ти збираєшся скласти той інший? When it comes to A 1 right-down solid mysteriousness, he lays over both of them. ||||||||mystery|||||| Когда речь заходит о солидной загадочности A 1, он обходит их обоих. Коли справа доходить до A 1, він перекриває їх обох суцільною таємничістю. Easy—don't he?" Легко, чи не так?" "You bet!" "Еще бы!" "Ще б пак!" Everybody said it. Все это говорили. Every man but one. Все, кроме одного. Всі, крім одного. He was the new-comer—Peterson. Это был новоприбывший Питерсон. Він був новоприбулим Петерсоном. He ordered the drinks all round, and asked who No. Він замовив усім напої і запитав, кому саме. 3 might be. Можливо, 3. All answered at once, "Archy Stillman!" Всі одразу відповіли: "Арчі Стіллман!" "Is he a mystery?" "Він загадка?" asked Peterson.

"Is he a mystery? Is Archy Stillman a mystery?" said Wells-Fargo's man, Ferguson. "Why, the fourth dimension's foolishness to him." ||||nonsense|| "Четвертое измерение для него - глупость". "Чому, для нього четвертий вимір - це дурість". For Ferguson was learned. Бо Фергюсон був навчений.

Peterson wanted to hear all about him; everybody wanted to tell him; everybody began. Петерсон хотів почути все про нього; всі хотіли розповісти йому; всі почали. But Billy Stevens, the barkeeper, called the house to order, and said one at a time was best. Але Біллі Стівенс, бармен, закликав усіх до порядку і сказав, що краще пити по одному. He distributed the drinks, and appointed Ferguson to lead. Він роздав напої і призначив Фергюсона лідером. Ferguson said,

"Well, he's a boy. And that is just about all we know about him. І це майже все, що ми про нього знаємо. You can pump him till you are tired; it ain't any use; you won't get anything. Ви можете качати його, поки не втомитеся, але це марно, ви нічого не отримаєте. At least about his intentions, or line of business, or where he's from, and such things as that. Принаймні, про його наміри, сферу діяльності, звідки він родом і таке інше. And as for getting at the nature and get-up of his main big chief mystery, why, he'll just change the subject, that's all. А що стосується того, щоб дістатися до природи і походження його головної таємниці, то навіщо, він просто змінить тему, ось і все. You can guess till you're black in the face—it's your privilege—but suppose you do, where do you arrive at? Ви можете гадати доти, доки не почорнієте - це ваш привілей, - але припустімо, що ви вгадали, до чого ви прийдете? Nowhere, as near as I can make out." Ніде, наскільки я можу зрозуміти". "What is his big chief one?" "А який у нього головний?" "Sight, maybe. "Можливо, приціл. Hearing, maybe. Слух, можливо. Instinct, maybe. Magic, maybe. Take your choice—grownups, twenty-five; children and servants, half price. |||adults||||||| Выбирайте на свой вкус: взрослые - двадцать пять, дети и слуги - за полцены. Вибирайте: дорослі - двадцять п'ять, діти та слуги - за півціни. Now I'll tell you what he can do. You can start here, and just disappear; you can go and hide wherever you want to, I don't care where it is, nor how far—and he'll go straight and put his finger on you." Ти можеш почати звідси і просто зникнути; можеш піти і сховатися де завгодно, мені байдуже, де це і як далеко - і він піде прямо і покаже на тебе пальцем". "You don't mean it!" "Ти ж несерйозно!" "I just do, though. "Але я просто хочу. Weather's nothing to him—elemental conditions is nothing to him—he don't even take notice of them." Погода для нього - ніщо, природні умови для нього - ніщо, він навіть не звертає на них уваги". "Oh, come! Dark? Rain? Snow? Hey?" Агов?" "It's all the same to him. He don't give a damn." Йому начхати". "Oh, say—including fog, per'aps?" "О, скажімо, включаючи туман, так?" "Fog! he's got an eye 't can plunk through it like a bullet." ||||||pierce through||||| У нього таке око, що може пробити його наскрізь, як куля". "Now, boys, honor bright, what's he giving me?" "А тепер, хлопці, честь честі, що він мені дарує?" "It's a fact!" they all shouted. вони всі кричали. "Go on, Wells-Fargo." "Вперед, Веллс-Фарго". "Well, sir, you can leave him here, chatting with the boys, and you can slip out and go to any cabin in this camp and open a book—yes, sir, a dozen of them—and take the page in your memory, and he'll start out and go straight to that cabin and open every one of them books at the right page, and call it off, and never make a mistake." "He must be the devil!" "More than one has thought it. Now I'll tell you a perfectly wonderful thing that he done. The other night he—" There was a sudden great murmur of sounds outside, the door flew open, and an excited crowd burst in, with the camp's one white woman in the lead and crying, Раптом ззовні почувся сильний шум, двері відчинилися, і ввірвався збуджений натовп, на чолі якого стояла єдина біла жінка з табору, яка плакала, "My child! my child! she's lost and gone! For the love of God help me to find Archy Stillman; we've hunted everywhere!" Said the barkeeper:

"Sit down, sit down, Mrs. Hogan, and don't worry. |||||Hogan||| He asked for a bed three hours ago, tuckered out tramping the trails the way he's always doing, and went upstairs. ||||||||exhausted||hiking|||||||||| Три години тому він попросився на нічліг, втоптався, як завжди, і пішов нагору. Ham Sandwich, run up and roust him out; he's in No. |||||wake up||||| 14." The youth was soon downstairs and ready. Незабаром молодь спустилася вниз і була готова. He asked Mrs. Hogan for particulars.

"Bless you, dear, there ain't any; I wish there was. "Благослови тебе Боже, дорогенька, немає жодного, а я б хотів, щоб було. I put her to sleep at seven in the evening, and when I went in there an hour ago to go to bed myself, she was gone. Я поклала її спати о сьомій вечора, а коли годину тому зайшла туди сама, щоб лягти спати, її вже не було. I rushed for your cabin, dear, and you wasn't there, and I've hunted for you ever since, at every cabin down the gulch, and now I've come up again, and I'm that distracted and scared and heart-broke; but, thanks to God, I've found you at last, dear heart, and you'll find my child. ||||||||||||||||||||||valley||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| Я кинулася до твоєї хатини, люба, але тебе там не було, і відтоді я шукала тебе біля кожної хатини в ущелині, а тепер я прийшла знову, і я розгублена, налякана і з розбитим серцем; але, дякувати Богу, я нарешті знайшла тебе, люба, і ти знайдеш мою дитину. Come on! come quick!" "Move right along; I'm with you, madam. "Проходьте, я з вами, мадам. Go to your cabin first." The whole company streamed out to join the hunt. All the southern half of the village was up, a hundred men strong, and waiting outside, a vague dark mass sprinkled with twinkling lanterns. The mass fell into columns by threes and fours to accommodate itself to the narrow road, and strode briskly along southward in the wake of the leaders. |||||||||||||||||||||||trail||| Маса розбилася на колони по троє і по четверо, щоб пристосуватися до вузької дороги, і швидко рушила на південь услід за лідерами. In a few minutes the Hogan cabin was reached.

"There's the bunk," said Mrs. Hogan; "there's where she was; it's where I laid her at seven o'clock; but where she is now, God only knows." "Hand me a lantern," said Archy. "Дай мені ліхтар", - сказав Арчі. He set it on the hard earth floor and knelt by it, pretending to examine the ground closely. "Here's her track," he said, touching the ground here and there and yonder with his finger. ||||||||||||over there||| "Вот ее след, - сказал он, касаясь пальцем земли то тут, то там, то там. "Ось її слід", - сказав він, торкаючись пальцем землі то тут, то там. "Do you see?" Several of the company dropped upon their knees and did their best to see. One or two thought they discerned something like a track; the others shook their heads and confessed that the smooth hard surface had no marks upon it which their eyes were sharp enough to discover. |||||perceived, detected||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| Одному чи двом здалося, що вони розгледіли щось схоже на сліди; інші похитали головами і зізналися, що на гладкій твердій поверхні не було ніяких слідів, які їхні очі могли б розгледіти. One said, "Maybe a child's foot could make a mark on it, but I don't see how." Young Stillman stepped outside, held the light to the ground, turned leftward, and moved three steps, closely examining; then said, "I've got the direction—come along; take the lantern, somebody." Молодий художник вийшов на вулицю, притулив ліхтар до землі, повернув ліворуч і зробив три кроки, уважно придивляючись, а потім сказав: "Я знаю напрямок - ходімо, візьміть ліхтар, хто-небудь". He strode off swiftly southward, the files following, swaying and bending in and out with the deep curves of the gorge. ||||||||||||||||||||gorge Он быстро зашагал на юг, а папки последовали за ним, покачиваясь и изгибаясь вместе с глубокими изгибами ущелья. Він стрімко пішов на південь, а папки слідом за ним, погойдуючись і вигинаючись у глибоких вигинах ущелини. Thus a mile, and the mouth of the gorge was reached; before them stretched the sagebrush plain, dim, vast, and vague. |||||||||||||||aromatic shrub||||| Миля - и вот уже устье ущелья; перед ними расстилалась равнина шалфея, тусклая, огромная и неясная. Ще миля, і вони дійшли до гирла ущелини; перед ними простяглася тьмяна, неосяжна і невиразна полинна рівнина. Stillman called a halt, saying, "We mustn't start wrong, now; we must take the direction again." Стіллман зупинився, сказавши: "Ми не повинні починати неправильно, ми повинні знову взяти напрямок". He took a lantern and examined the ground for a matter of twenty yards; then said, "Come on; it's all right," and gave up the lantern. In and out among the sage-bushes he marched, a quarter of a mile, bearing gradually to the right; then took a new direction and made another great semicircle; then changed again and moved due west nearly half a mile—and stopped. ||||||||||||||direction, heading||||||||||||||||||||||||||| Він пройшов чверть милі серед кущів шавлії, поступово повертаючи праворуч; потім змінив напрямок і зробив ще одне велике півколо; потім знову змінив напрямок і рушив на захід майже на півмилі - і зупинився.

"She gave it up, here, poor little chap. "Вона здалася, ось, бідолаха. Hold the lantern. You can see where she sat." But this was in a slick alkali flat which was surfaced like steel, and no person in the party was quite hardy enough to claim an eyesight that could detect the track of a cushion on a veneer like that. |||||smooth, shiny|||||coated with|||||||||||||||||||||||||||thin layer|| Но это происходило на скользкой щелочной площадке, поверхность которой была как сталь, и ни один человек в партии не был достаточно вынослив, чтобы заявить о наличии зрения, способного обнаружить след от подушки на подобной фанере. Але це відбувалося на гладкій лужній поверхні, яка була схожа на сталь, і жодна людина в партії не була достатньо витривалою, щоб стверджувати, що її зір здатен виявити слід від подушки на такому шпоні. The bereaved mother fell upon her knees and kissed the spot, lamenting. |grieving||||||||||mourning deeply Вбита горем мати впала на коліна і поцілувала це місце, плачучи.

"But where is she, then?" some one said. "She didn't stay here. We can see that much, anyway." Ми і так багато бачимо". Stillman moved about in a circle around the place, with the lantern, pretending to hunt for tracks.

"Well!" he said presently, in an annoyed tone, "I don't understand it." "Я цього не розумію", - сказав він тепер роздратованим тоном. He examined again. "No use. "Нічого не вийде. She was here—that's certain; she never walked away from here—and that's certain. Вона була тут - це точно; вона ніколи не йшла звідси - це точно. It's a puzzle; I can't make it out." Це пазл, я не можу його розгадати". The mother lost heart then. Мати тоді впала духом.

"Oh, my God! oh, blessed Virgin! О, Пресвята Діво! some flying beast has got her. якийсь летючий звір схопив її. I'll never see her again!" "Ah, don't give up," said Archy. "We'll find her—don't give up." "God bless you for the words, Archy Stillman!" and she seized his hand and kissed it fervently. ||||||||passionately

Peterson, the new-comer, whispered satirically in Ferguson's ear: |||||sarcastically||| Пітерсон, новачок, сатирично прошепотів на вухо Фергюсону: "Wonderful performance to find this place, wasn't it? "Чудова вистава, щоб знайти це місце, чи не так? Hardly worth while to come so far, though; any other supposititious place would have answered just as well—hey?" ||||||||||supposed|||||||| Хоча навряд чи варто було їхати так далеко; будь-яке інше пристойне місце відповіло б так само добре, агов?" Ferguson was not pleased with the innuendo. ||||||suggestive remark Фергюсон не був задоволений цим натяком. He said, with some warmth, Сказав він з деяким теплом,

"Do you mean to insinuate that the child hasn't been here? ||||imply|||||| I tell you the child has been here! Now if you want to get yourself into as tidy a little fuss as—" Тепер, якщо ви хочете, щоб у вас була така ж акуратна маленька метушня, як..." "All right!" sang out Stillman. вигукнув Стілман. "Come, everybody, and look at this! It was right under our noses all the time, and we didn't see it." Вона весь час була у нас під носом, а ми її не бачили". There was a general plunge for the ground at the place where the child was alleged to have rested, and many eyes tried hard and hopefully to see the thing that Archy's finger was resting upon. |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||Archie's|||| На місці, де нібито лежала дитина, було загальне занурення в землю, і багато очей з надією намагалися розгледіти те, на що спирався палець Арчі. There was a pause, then a several-barrelled sigh of disappointment. |||||||multiple sources||| Настала пауза, а потім розчароване зітхання на кілька бочок. Pat Riley and Ham Sandwich said, in the one breath, Пат Райлі та "Сендвіч з шинкою" сказали це на одному диханні,

"What is it, Archy? There's nothing here." "Nothing? Do you call that nothing?" and he swiftly traced upon the ground a form with his finger. І він швидко обвів пальцем на землі якусь форму. "There—don't you recognize it now? It's Injun Billy's track. |Native American|| Це трек індіанця Біллі. He's got the child." "God be praised!" "Слава Богу!" from the mother.

"Take away the lantern. I've got the direction. Follow!" He started on a run, racing in and out among the sage-bushes a matter of three hundred yards, and disappeared over a sand-wave; the others struggled after him, caught him up, and found him waiting. Він кинувся навтьоки, пробігши між кущами шавлії триста ярдів, і зник за піщаною хвилею; інші побігли за ним, наздогнали його і побачили, що він чекає на них. Ten steps away was a little wickieup, a dim and formless shelter of rags and old horse-blankets, a dull light showing through its chinks. ||||||shelter||||||||||||||||||cracks В десяти шагах от него находился маленький закуток, тусклое и бесформенное убежище из тряпья и старых лошадиных одеял, сквозь щели которого пробивался тусклый свет. За десять кроків стояв маленький курінь, тьмяний і безформний притулок з ганчір'я та старої кінської попони, крізь щілини якого пробивалося тьмяне світло.

"You lead, Mrs. Hogan," said the lad. "Ви ведіть, місіс Хоган", - сказав хлопець. "It's your privilege to be first." All followed the sprint she made for the wickieup, and saw, with her, the picture its interior afforded. Всі стежили за тим, як вона бігла до вікіпедії, і бачили разом з нею картину, яку дарував її інтер'єр. Injun Billy was sitting on the ground; the child was asleep beside him. Індіанець Біллі сидів на землі, поруч з ним спала дитина. The mother hugged it with a wild embrace, which included Archy Stillman, the grateful tears running down her face, and in a choked and broken voice she poured out a golden stream of that wealth of worshiping endearments which has its home in full richness nowhere but in the Irish heart. ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||adoring|affectionate terms||||||||||||| Мати обійняла його дикими обіймами, в яких був і Арчі Стіллман, вдячні сльози текли по її обличчю, і здавленим і надломленим голосом вона вилила золотий потік того багатства поклоніння, яке не має домівки в повному багатстві ніде, окрім ірландського серця.

"I find her bymeby it is ten o'clock," Billy explained. |||eventually|||||| "Я знаходжу її до десятої години", - пояснив Біллі. "She 'sleep out yonder, ve'y tired—face wet, been cryin', 'spose; fetch her home, feed her, she heap much hungry—go 'sleep 'gin." |||over there|and||||||I suppose|||||||||||| "Она спит вон там, устала, лицо мокрое, плачет, наверное; принесите ее домой, накормите, она очень голодна, идите спать". "Вона "спить он там, втомлена, личко мокре, плаче, "спить; принеси її додому, нагодуй її, вона дуже голодна - йди "спи джина"". In her limitless gratitude the happy mother waived rank and hugged him too, calling him "the angel of God in disguise." |||||||relinquished||||||||||||| В своей безграничной благодарности счастливая мать помахала ему рукой и обняла его, назвав "переодетым ангелом Божьим". У своїй безмежній вдячності щаслива мати відмовилася від чину і теж обійняла його, назвавши його "перевтіленим ангелом Божим". And he probably was in disguise if he was that kind of an official. И он, вероятно, был замаскирован, если был таким чиновником. І він, напевно, був замаскований, якщо він був таким чиновником. He was dressed for the character. Он был одет в соответствии с характером. Він був одягнений під персонажа.

At half past one in the morning the procession burst into the village singing, "When Johnny Comes Marching Home," waving its lanterns, and swallowing the drinks that were brought out all along its course. ||||||||parade||||||||||||||||||||||||| О пів на другу ночі процесія увірвалася в село, співаючи "When Johnny Comes Marching Home", розмахуючи ліхтарями і ковтаючи напої, які розносили по всьому шляху. It concentrated at the tavern, and made a night of what was left of the morning. Они сосредоточились в таверне и устроили ночь, которая осталась до утра. Він зосередився в таверні, і зробив ніч з того, що залишилося від ранку.