Joe also took an interest in snakes, and used to poke3 amongst logs and brush-fences in search of rare specimens4. Whenever he secured a good one he put it in a cage and left it there until it died or got out, or Dad threw it, cage and all, right out of the parish.
One day, while Mother and Sal were out with Dad, Joe came home with a four-foot black snake in his hand. It was a beauty. So sleek5 and lithe6 and lively! He carried it by the tail, its head swinging close to his bare leg, and the thing yearning7 for a grab at him. But Joe understood the ways of a reptile8.
There was no cage — Dad had burnt the last one — so Joe walked round the room wondering where to put his prize. The cat came out of the bedroom and mewed and followed him for the snake. He told her to go away. She didn’t go. She reached for the snake with her paw. It bit her. She spat9 and sprang in the air and rushed outside with her back up. Joe giggled10 and wondered how long the cat would live.
The Rev11. Macpherson, on his way to christen M’Kenzie’s baby, called in for a drink, and smilingly asked after Joe’s health.
“Hold this kuk-kuk-cove, then,” Joe said, handing the parson the reptile, which was wriggling12 and biting at space, “an’ I’ll gug-gug-get y’ one.” But when Mr. Macpherson saw the thing was alive he jumped back and fell over the dog which was lying behind him in the shade. Bluey grabbed him by the leg, and the parson jumped up in haste and made for his horse — followed by Bluey. Joe cried, “KUM ’ere!”— then turned inside.
Mother and Sal entered. They had come to make Dad and themselves a cup of tea. They quarrelled with Joe, and he went out and started playing with the snake. He let it go, and went to catch it by the tail again, but the snake caught HIM— by the finger.
“He’s bit me!” Joe cried, turning pale. Mother screeched13, and Sal bolted off for Dad, while the snake glided14 silently up the yard.
Anderson, passing on his old bay mare15, heard the noise, and came in. He examined Joe’s finger, bled the wound, and was bandaging the arm when Dad rushed in.
“Where is he?” he said. “Oh, you d — d whelp! You wretch16 of a boy! MY God!”
“’Twasn’ MY fault.” And Joe began to blubber.
But Anderson protested. There was no time, he said, to be lost barneying; and he told Dad to take his old mare Jean and go at once for Sweeney. Sweeney was the publican at Kangaroo Creek17, with a reputation for curing snake-bite. Dad ran out, mounted Jean and turned her head for Sweeney’s. But, at the slip-rails, Jean stuck him up, and wouldn’t go further. Dad hit her between the ears with his fist, and got down and ran back.
“The boy’ll be dead, Anderson,” he cried, rushing inside again.
“Come on then,” Anderson said, “we’ll take off his finger.”
Joe was looking drowsy18. But, when Anderson took hold of him and placed the wounded finger on a block, and Dad faced him with the hammer and a blunt, rusty19 old chisel20, he livened up.
“No, Dad, NO!” he squealed22, straining and kicking like an old man kangaroo. Anderson stuck to him, though, and with Sal’s assistance held his finger on the block till Dad carefully rested the chisel on it and brought the hammer down. It didn’t sever23 the finger — it only scraped the nail off — but it did make Joe buck24. He struggled desperately25 and got away.
Anderson couldn’t run at all; Dad was little faster; Sal could run like a greyhound in her bare feet, but, before she could pull her boots off, Joe had disappeared in the corn.
“Quick!” Dad shouted, and the trio followed the patient. They hunted through the corn from end to end, but found no trace of him. Night came. The search continued. They called, and called, but nothing answered save the ghostly echoes, the rustling26 of leaves, the slow, sonorous27 notes of a distant bear, or the neighing of a horse in the grass-paddock.
At midnight they gave up, and went home, and sat inside and listened, and looked distracted.
While they sat, “Whisky,” a blackfellow from Billson’s station, dropped in. He was taking a horse down to town for his boss, and asked Dad if he could stay till morning. Dad said he could. He slept in Dave’s bed; Dave slept on the sofa.
“If Joe ain’t dead, and wuz t’ come in before mornin’,” Dave said, “there won’t be room for us all.”
And before morning Joe DID come in. He entered stealthily by the back-door, and crawled quietly into bed.
At daybreak Joe awoke, and nudged his bed-mate and said:
“Dave, the cocks has crowed!” No answer. He nudged him again.
“Dave, the hens is all off the roost!” Still no reply.
Daylight streamed in through the cracks. Joe sat up — he was at the back — and stared about. He glanced at the face of his bed-mate and chuckled28 and said:
“Who’s been blackenin’ y’, Dave?”
He sat grinning awhile, then stood up, and started pulling on his trousers, which he drew from under his pillow. He had put one leg into them when his eyes rested on a pair of black feet uncovered at the foot of the bed. He stared at them and the black face again — then plunged29 for the door and fell. Whisky was awake and grinned over the side of the bed at him.
“Wot makit you so fritent like that?” he said, grinning more.
Joe ran into Mother’s room and dived in behind her and Dad. Dad swore, and kicked Joe and jammed him against the slabs30 with his heels, saying:
“My GAWD! You DEVIL of a feller, how (KICK) dare you (KICK) run (KICK) run (KICK, KICK, KICK) away yesterday, eh?” (KICK).
But he was very glad to see Joe all the same; we all felt that Shingle31 Hut would not have been the same place at all without Joe.
It was when Dad and Dave were away after kangaroo-scalps that Joe was most appreciated. Mother and Sal felt it such a comfort to have a man in the house — even if it was only Joe.
Joe was proud of his male prerogatives32. He looked after the selection, minded the corn, kept Anderson’s and Dwyer’s and Brown’s and old Mother Murphy’s cows out of it, and chased goannas away from the front door the same as Dad used to do — for Joe felt that he was in Dad’s place, and postponed33 his customary familiarities with the goannas.
It was while Joe was in charge that Casey came to our place. A starved-looking, toothless little old man with a restless eye, talkative, ragged34 and grey; he walked with a bend in his back (not a hump), and carried his chin in the air. We never saw a man like him before. He spoke35 rapidly, too, and watched us all as he talked. Not exactly a “traveller;” he carried no swag or billycan, and wore a pair of boots much too large. He seemed to have been “well brought up”— he took off his hat at the door and bowed low to Mother and Sal, who were sitting inside, sewing. They gave a start and stared. The dog, lying at Mother’s feet, rose and growled36. Bluey wasn’t used to the ways of people well brought up.
The world had dealt harshly with Casey, and his story went to Mother’s heart. “God buless y’,” he said when she told him he could have some dinner; “but I’ll cut y’ wood for it; oh, I’ll cut y’ wood!” And he went to the wood-heap and started work. A big heap and a blunt axe37; but it didn’t matter to Casey. He worked hard, and didn’t stare about, and didn’t reduce the heap much, either; and when Sal called him to dinner he couldn’t hear — he was too busy. Joe had to go and bring him away.
Casey sat at the table and looked up at the holes in the roof, through which the sun was shining.
“Ought t’ be a cool house,” he remarked.
Mother said it was.
“Quite a bush house.”
“Oh, yes,” Mother said —“we’re right in the bush here.”
He began to eat and, as he ate, talked cheerfully of selections and crops and old times and bad times and wire fences and dead cattle. Casey was a versatile38 ancient. When he was finished he shifted to the sofa and asked Mother how many children she had. Mother considered and said, “Twelve.” He thought a dozen enough for anyone, and, said that HIS mother, when he left home, had twenty-one — all girls but him. That was forty years ago, and he didn’t know how many she had since. Mother and Sal smiled. They began to like old Casey.
Casey took up his hat and went outside, and didn’t say “Good-day” or “Thanks” or anything. He didn’t go away, either. He looked about the yard. A panel in the fence was broken. It had been broken for five years. Casey seemed to know it. He started mending that panel. He was mending it all the evening.
Mother called to Joe to bring in some wood. Casey left the fence, hurried to the wood-heap, carried in an armful, and asked Mother if she wanted more. Then he returned to the fence.
“J-OE,” Mother screeched a little later, “look at those cows tryin’ to eat the corn.”
Casey left the fence again and drove the cows away, and mended the wire on his way back.
At sundown Casey was cutting more wood, and when we were at supper he brought it in and put some on the fire, and went out again slowly.
Mother and Sal talked about him.
“Better give him his supper,” Sal said, and Mother sent Joe to invite him in. He didn’t come in at once. Casey wasn’t a forward man. He stayed to throw some pumpkin39 to the pigs.
Casey slept in the barn that night. He slept in it the next night, too. He didn’t believe in shifting from place to place, so he stayed with us altogether. He took a lively interest in the selection. The house, he said, was in the wrong place, and he showed Mother where it ought to have been built. He suggested shifting it, and setting a hedge and ornamental40 trees in front and fruit trees at the back, and making a nice place of it. Little things like that pleased Mother. “Anyway,” she would sometimes say to Sal, “he’s a useful old man, and knows how to look after things about the place.” Casey did. Whenever any watermelons were ripe, he looked after THEM and hid the skins in the ground. And if a goanna or a crow came and frightened a hen from her nest Casey always got the egg, and when he had gobbled it up he would chase that crow or goanna for its life and shout lustily.
Every day saw Casey more at home at our place. He was a very kind man, and most obliging. If a traveller called for a drink of water, Casey would give him a cup of milk and ask him to wait and have dinner. If Maloney, or old Anderson, or anybody, wished to borrow a horse, or a dray, or anything about the place, Casey would let them have it with pleasure, and tell them not to be in a hurry about returning it.
Joe got on well with Casey. Casey’s views on hard work were the same as Joe’s. Hard work, Joe thought, wasn’t necessary on a selection.
Casey knew a thing or two — so he said. One fine morning, when all the sky was blue and the butcher-birds whistling strong, Dwyer’s cows smashed down a lot of the fence and dragged it into the corn. Casey, assisted by Joe, put them all in the yard, and hammered them with sticks. Dwyer came along.
“Those cattle belong to me,” he said angrily.
“They belongs t’ ME,” Casey answered, “until you pay damages.” Then he put his back to the slip-rails and looked up aggressively into Dwyer’s face. Dwyer was a giant beside Casey. Dwyer didn’t say anything — he wasn’t a man of words — but started throwing the rails down to let the cows out. Casey flew at him. Dwyer quietly shoved him away with his long, brown arm. Casey came again and fastened on to Dwyer. Joe mounted the stockyard. Dwyer seized Casey with both hands; then there was a struggle — on Casey’s part. Dwyer lifted him up and carried him away and set him down on his back, then hastened to the rails. But before he could throw them down Casey was upon him again. Casey never knew when he was beaten. Dwyer was getting annoyed. He took Casey by the back of the neck and squeezed him. Casey humped his shoulders and gasped41. Dwyer stared about. A plough-rein42 hung on the yard. Dwyer reached for it. Casey yelled, “Murder!” Dwyer fastened one end of the rope round Casey’s body — under the arms — and stared about again. And again “Murder!” from Casey. Joe jumped off the yard to get further away. A tree, with a high horizontal limb, stood near. Dad once used it as a butcher’s gallows43. Dwyer gathered the loose rein into a coil and heaved it over the limb, and hauled Casey up. Then he tied the end of the rope to the yard and drove out the cows.
“When y’ want ’im down,” Dwyer said to Joe as he walked away, “cut the rope.”
Casey groaned44, and one of his boots dropped off. Then he began to spin round — to wind up and unwind and wind up again. Joe came near and eyed the twirling form with joy.
Mother and Sal arrived, breathless and excited. They screeched at Joe.
“Undo th’ r-r-rope,” Joe said, “an’ he’ll come w-w — WOP.”
Sal ran away and procured45 a sheet, and Mother and she held it under Casey, and told Joe to unfasten the rope and lower him as steadily46 as he could. Joe unfastened the rope, but somehow it pinched his fingers and he let go, and Casey fell through the sheet. For three weeks Casey was an invalid47 at our place. He would have been invalided48 there for the rest of his days only old Dad came home and induced him to leave. Casey didn’t want to go; but Dad had a persuasive49 way with him that generally proved effectual.
Singularly enough, Dad complained that kangaroos were getting scarce where he was camped; while our paddocks were full of them. Joe started a mob nearly every day, as he walked round overseeing things; and he pondered. Suddenly he had an original inspiration — originality50 was Joe’s strong point. He turned the barn into a workshop, and buried himself there for two days. For two whole days he was never “at home,”, except when he stepped out to throw the hammer at the dog for yelping52 for a drink. The greedy brute53! it wasn’t a week since he’d had a billyful — Joe told him. On the morning of the third day the barn-door swung open, and forth54 came a kangaroo, with the sharpened carving55 knife in its paws. It hopped56 across the yard and sat up, bold and erect57, near the dog-kennel. Bluey nearly broke his neck trying to get at it. The kangaroo said: “Lay down, you useless hound!” and started across the cultivation58!, heading for the grass-paddock in long, erratic59 jumps. Half-way across the cultivation it spotted60 a mob of other kangaroos, and took a firmer grip of the carver.
Bluey howled and plunged until Mother came out to see what was the matter. She was in time to see a solitary61 kangaroo hop51 in a drunken manner towards the fence, so she let the dog go and cried, “Sool him, Bluey! Sool him!” Bluey sooled him, and Mother followed with the axe to get the scalp. As the dog came racing62 up, the kangaroo turned and hissed63, “G’ home, y’ mongrel!” Bluey took no notice, and only when he had nailed the kangaroo dextrously by the thigh64 and got him down did it dawn upon the marsupial65 that Bluey wasn’t in the secret. Joe tore off his head-gear, called the dog affectionately by name, and yelled for help; but Bluey had not had anything substantial to eat for over a week, and he worried away vigorously.
Then the kangaroo slashed66 out with the carving-knife, and hacked67 a junk off Bluey’s nose. Bluey shook his head, relaxed his thigh-grip, and grabbed the kangaroo by the ribs68. How that kangaroo did squeal21! Mother arrived. She dropped the axe, threw up both hands, and shrieked69. “Pull him off! he’s eating me!” gasped the kangaroo. Mother shrieked louder, and wrung70 her hands; but it had no effect on Bluey. He was a good dog, was Bluey!
At last, Mother got him by the tail and dragged him off, but he took a mouthful of kangaroo with him as he went.
Then the kangaroo raised itself slowly on to its hands and knees. It was very white and sick-looking, and Mother threw her arms round it and cried, “Oh, Joe! My child! my child!”
It was several days before Joe felt better. When he did, Bluey and he went down the gully together, and, after a while, Joe came back — like Butler — alone.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
naturalist
|
|
| n.博物学家(尤指直接观察动植物者) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
poke
|
|
| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
specimens
|
|
| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
sleek
|
|
| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
lithe
|
|
| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
yearning
|
|
| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
reptile
|
|
| n.爬行动物；两栖动物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
spat
|
|
| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
giggled
|
|
| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
rev
|
|
| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
wriggling
|
|
| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
screeched
|
|
| v.发出尖叫声( screech的过去式和过去分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
glided
|
|
| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
mare
|
|
| n.母马，母驴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
wretch
|
|
| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
creek
|
|
| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
drowsy
|
|
| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
rusty
|
|
| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
chisel
|
|
| n.凿子；v.用凿子刻，雕，凿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
squeal
|
|
| v.发出长而尖的声音；n.长而尖的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
squealed
|
|
| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
sever
|
|
| v.切开，割开；断绝，中断 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
buck
|
|
| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
desperately
|
|
| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
rustling
|
|
| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
sonorous
|
|
| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
chuckled
|
|
| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
slabs
|
|
| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
shingle
|
|
| n.木瓦板；小招牌(尤指医生或律师挂的营业招牌)；v.用木瓦板盖（屋顶）；把（女子头发）剪短 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
prerogatives
|
|
| n.权利( prerogative的名词复数 )；特权；大主教法庭；总督委任组成的法庭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
postponed
|
|
| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
growled
|
|
| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
axe
|
|
| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
versatile
|
|
| adj.通用的，万用的；多才多艺的，多方面的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
pumpkin
|
|
| n.南瓜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
ornamental
|
|
| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
gasped
|
|
| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
rein
|
|
| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
gallows
|
|
| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
groaned
|
|
| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
procured
|
|
| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
invalid
|
|
| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
invalided
|
|
| 使伤残（invalid的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
persuasive
|
|
| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
originality
|
|
| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
hop
|
|
| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
yelping
|
|
| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
carving
|
|
| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
hopped
|
|
| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
cultivation
|
|
| n.耕作，培养，栽培（法），养成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
erratic
|
|
| adj.古怪的，反复无常的，不稳定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
spotted
|
|
| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
racing
|
|
| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
hissed
|
|
| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
thigh
|
|
| n.大腿；股骨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
marsupial
|
|
| adj.有袋的，袋状的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
slashed
|
|
| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
hacked
|
|
| 生气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
ribs
|
|
| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
shrieked
|
|
| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
wrung
|
|
| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |