Thorin of course saw the sense of this, so after a few more groans he got up and helped the hobbit as well as he could. In the darkness floundering in the cold water they had a difficult and very nasty job finding which were the right barrels. Knocking outside and calling only discovered about six dwarves that could answer. They were unpacked and helped ashore where they sat or lay muttering and moaning; they were so soaked and bruised and cramped that they could hardly yet realize their release or be properly thankful for it. Dwalin and Balin were two of the most unhappy, and it was no good asking them to help. Bifur and Bofur were less knocked about and drier, but they lay down and would do nothing. Fili and Kili, however, who were young (fordwarves) and had also been packed more neatly with plenty of straw into smaller casks, came out more or less smiling, with only a bruise or two and a stiffness that soon wore off.
“I hope (я надеюсь) I never smell the smell of apples again (что я больше никогда не услышу запах яблок снова)!” said Fili (сказал Фили). “My tub was full of it (мой бочонок был переполнен им). To smell apples everlastingly (бесконечно нюхать яблоки) when you can scarcely move (когда ты можешь едва шевельнуться) and are cold (и замерз) and sick with hunger (и /тебя/ тошнит от голода) is maddening (это сводит с ума;
With the willing help of Fili and Kili (с усердной помощью Фили и Кили;
“Well (ну)! Here we are (вот и мы = ну вот)!” said Thorin (сказал Торин). “And I suppose (и я полагаю) we ought to thank our stars and Mr. Baggins (нам следует отблагодарить наши /счастливые/ звезды и мистера Бэггинса;
everlastingly [ev'l: stl] remainder [r'mend] waterlogged ['w: tld]