His eyes were not yet in good condition, and after an uncertain scrutiny9 he started at a run; for he saw that the mysterious white object was nearer the bridge than himself, and rapidly lessening10 the distance. A hundred yards away, his heart bounded and the blood in his veins11 felt cold as the ice under foot, for the white object proved to be a traveler from the frozen North, lean and famished12 — a polar bear, who had scented13 food and was seeking it — coming on at a lumbering14 run, with great red jaws15 half open and yellow fangs16 exposed. Rowland had no weapon but a strong jackknife, but this he pulled from his pocket and opened as he ran. Not for an instant did be hesitate at a conflict that promised almost certain death; for the presence of this bear involved the safety of a child whose life had become of more importance to him than his own. To his horror, he saw it creep out of the opening in its white covering, just as the bear turned the corner of the bridge.
“Go back, baby, go back,” he shouted, as he bounded down the slope. The bear reached the child first, and with seemingly no effort, dashed it, with a blow of its massive paw, a dozen feet away, where it lay quiet. Turning to follow, the brute17 was met by Rowland.
The bear rose to his haunches, sank down, and charged; and Rowland felt the bones of his left arm crushing under the bite of the big, yellow-fanged jaws. But, falling, he buried the knife-blade in the shaggy hide, and the bear, with an angry snarl18, spat19 out the mangled20 member and dealt him a sweeping21 blow which sent him farther along the ice than the child had gone. He arose, with broken ribs22, and — scarcely feeling the pain — awaited the second charge. Again was the crushed and useless arm gripped in the yellow vise, and again was he pressed backward; but this time he used the knife with method. The great snout was pressing his breast; the hot, fetid breath was in his nostrils23; and at his shoulder the hungry eyes were glaring into his own. He struck for the left eye of the brute and struck true. The five-inch blade went in to the handle, piercing the brain, and the animal, with a convulsive spring which carried him half-way to his feet by the wounded arm, reared up, with paws outstretched, to full eight feet of length, then sagged24 down, and with a few spasmodic kicks, lay still. Rowland had done what no Innuit hunter will attempt — he had fought and killed the Tiger-of-tbe-North with a knife.
It had all happened in a minute, but in that minute he was crippled for life; for in the quiet of a hospital, the best of surgical25 skill could hardly avail to reset26 the fractured particles of bone in the limp arm, and bring to place the crushed ribs. And he was adrift on a floating island of ice, with the temperature near the freezing point, and without even the rude appliances of the savage27.
He painfully made his way to the little pile of red and white, and lifted it with his uninjured arm, though the stooping caused him excruciating torture. The child was bleeding from four deep, cruel scratches, extending diagonally from the right shoulder down the back; but he found upon examination that the soft, yielding bones were unbroken, and that her unconsciousness came from the rough contact of the little forehead with the ice; for a large lump had raised.
Of pure necessity, his first efforts must be made in his own behalf; so wrapping the baby in his coat he placed it in his shelter, and cut and made from the canvas a sling28 for his dangling29 arm. Then, with knife, fingers, and teeth, he partly skinned the bear — often compelled to pause to save himself from fainting with pain — and cut from the warm but not very thick layer of fat a broad slab30, which, after bathing the wounds at a near-by pool, he bound firmly to the little one’s back, using the torn night-gown for a bandage.
He cut the flannel31 lining32 from his coat, and from that of the sleeves made nether33 garments for the little limbs, doubling the surplus length over the ankles and tying in place with rope-yarns34 from a boatlacing. The body lining he wrapped around her waist, enclosing the arms, and around the whole he passed turn upon turn of canvas in strips, marling the mummy-like bundle with yarns, much as a sailor secures chafing-gear to the doubled parts of a hawser35 — a process when complete, that would have aroused the indignation of any mother who saw it. But he was only a man, and suffering mental and physical anguish36.
By the time he had finished, the child had recovered consciousness, and was protesting its misery37 in a feeble, wailing38 cry. But he dared not stop — to become stiffened39 with cold and pain. There was plenty of fresh water from melting ice, scattered40 in pools. The bear would furnish food; but they needed fire, to cook this food, keep them warm, and the dangerous inflammation from their hurts, and to raise a smoke to be seen by passing craft.
He recklessly drank from the bottle, needing the stimulant41, and reasoning, perhaps rightly, that no ordinary drug could affect him in his present condition; then he examined the wreckage — most of it good kindling42 wood. Partly above, partly below the pile, was a steel lifeboat, decked over air-tight ends, now doubled to more than a right angle and resting on its side. With canvas hung over one half, and a small fire in the other, it promised, by its conducting property, a warmer and better shelter than the bridge. A sailor without matches is an anomaly. He whittled43 shavings, kindled44 the fire, hung the canvas and brought the child, who begged piteously for a drink of water.
He found a tin can — possibly left in a leaky boat before its final boist to the davits — and gave her a drink, to which he had added a few drops of the whisky. Then he thought of breakfast. Cutting a steak from the hindquarters of the bear, he toasted it on the end of a splinter and found it sweet and satisfying; but when he attempted to feed the child, he understood the necessity of freeing its arms — which he did, sacrificing his left shirtsleeve to cover them. The change and the food stopped its crying for a while, and Rowland lay down with it in the warm boat. Before the day had passed the whisky was gone and he was delirious45 with fever, while the child was but little better.

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收听单词发音

1
misgivings
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n.疑虑,担忧,害怕;疑虑,担心,恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 );疑惧 | |
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2
elevation
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n.高度;海拔;高地;上升;提高 | |
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3
precipice
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n.悬崖,危急的处境 | |
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4
hummocks
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n.小丘,岗( hummock的名词复数 ) | |
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5
interspersed
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adj.[医]散开的;点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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6
glistening
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adj.闪耀的,反光的v.湿物闪耀,闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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7
retraced
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v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 );回忆;回顾;追溯 | |
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8
wreckage
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n.(失事飞机等的)残骸,破坏,毁坏 | |
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9
scrutiny
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n.详细检查,仔细观察 | |
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10
lessening
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减轻,减少,变小 | |
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11
veins
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n.纹理;矿脉( vein的名词复数 );静脉;叶脉;纹理 | |
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12
famished
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adj.饥饿的 | |
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13
scented
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adj.有香味的;洒香水的;有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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14
lumbering
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n.采伐林木 | |
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15
jaws
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n.口部;嘴 | |
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16
fangs
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n.(尤指狗和狼的)长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 );(蛇的)毒牙;罐座 | |
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17
brute
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n.野兽,兽性 | |
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18
snarl
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v.吼叫,怒骂,纠缠,混乱;n.混乱,缠结,咆哮 | |
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19
spat
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n.口角,掌击;v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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20
mangled
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vt.乱砍(mangle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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21
sweeping
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adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
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22
ribs
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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 | |
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23
nostrils
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鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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24
sagged
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下垂的 | |
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25
surgical
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adj.外科的,外科医生的,手术上的 | |
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26
reset
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v.重新安排,复位;n.重新放置;重放之物 | |
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27
savage
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adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
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28
sling
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vt.扔;悬挂;n.挂带;吊索,吊兜;弹弓 | |
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29
dangling
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悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 ); 摆动不定; 用某事物诱惑…; 吊胃口 | |
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30
slab
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n.平板,厚的切片;v.切成厚板,以平板盖上 | |
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31
flannel
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n.法兰绒;法兰绒衣服 | |
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lining
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n.衬里,衬料 | |
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33
nether
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adj.下部的,下面的;n.阴间;下层社会 | |
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34
yarns
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n.纱( yarn的名词复数 );纱线;奇闻漫谈;旅行轶事 | |
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35
hawser
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n.大缆;大索 | |
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36
anguish
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n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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37
misery
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n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
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38
wailing
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v.哭叫,哀号( wail的现在分词 );沱 | |
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39
stiffened
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加强的 | |
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40
scattered
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adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
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41
stimulant
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n.刺激物,兴奋剂 | |
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42
kindling
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n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
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43
whittled
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v.切,削(木头),使逐渐变小( whittle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
kindled
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(使某物)燃烧,着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 ); 激起(感情等); 发亮,放光 | |
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45
delirious
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adj.不省人事的,神智昏迷的 | |
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