I have had many pleasant cups of tea in my life, indoors and out of doors, but never a pleasanter cup than the one I had the other day in a wagon1, or, to speak more exactly, by the side of a wagon—a wagon, too, upon which one looked with the deepest respect, for it had just come down from a long journey up the country, where it had been trekking2 these four months past—trekking night and day right up to the territory of the Ama-Swazies, through the Thorn country, over hundreds of miles of these endless billowy hills, rolling in wearying monotony day after day; but—and this “but” made up for every other shortcoming—amid hunting-grounds happier than often fall to the lot of even the South African explorer. And there were the spoils of the little campaign spread out before us. The first result, however, which struck me was the splendid health of the travelers. Sunburned indeed they were, especially the fair young English girl-face which had smiled good-bye to me from the depths of a sun-bonnet last April. But who would not risk a few shades of tan to have gone through such a novel and delightful4 journey? I never saw two people look so well in all my life as this adventurous5 couple, and it was with one voice they declared they had enjoyed every moment of the time. And what a pleasant time it must have been, rewarded as they were—and deserved to be—by splendid sport! On the fore3 part of the wagon lay a goodly pile of skins and quantities of magnificent horns, from the ponderous6 pair on the shaggy buffalo7-skulls down to taper8 points which might have belonged to a fairy buck9, so slender, so polished, so inexpressibly graceful10, were they. But the trophy11 of trophies12 was the skin of a lion, which had been shot in the earliest morning light some twenty yards from the hunter’s tent. It was a splendid skin, and the curved claws are to be made into a necklace and earrings13 for the sportsman’s wife, who indeed deserves them for bearing her share of the dangers and discomforts14 of the expedition so cheerfully and bravely. It was very difficult to elicit15 the least hint of what the discomforts were, or might have been, until at last my eager questions raked out an admission that a week of wet weather (the only one, by the way, in all the four months) was tedious when cooped up under the tilt16 of the wagon, or that some of the places up and down which the lumbering17, unwieldy conveyance18 had crept were fearful to look at and dangerous to travel, necessitating19 a lashing20 together of the wheels by iron chains, as well as the use of the ordinary heavy brake. Yet there had been no upset, no casualty, no serious trouble of any sort; and I think what these English travelers were more impressed with than anything else was the honesty of the Kafirs. The wagon with its stores of food and wine, of comforts and conveniences of all sorts, had been left absolutely alone by the side of a track crossed and recrossed every hour by Kafirs, and twenty miles short of the place whither the tent had been carried for greater facilities of getting at the big game. The oxen were twenty miles off in another direction, under no one’s care in particular; the wagon stood absolutely alone; and yet when the moment of reassembling came every bullock was forthcoming, and nothing whatever of any description was missing from the unguarded wagon. The great attraction to the Kafirs along the line of travel had been the empty tins of preserved milk or jam: with tops and bottoms knocked out they made the most resplendent bangles, and became a violent fashion up among the Thorns.
Nor was that grand lion’s skin the only one. There were quagga skins, wolf skins, buck skins of half a dozen different species, eland skins, buffalo skins, lynx and wild-cat skins enough to start a furrier’s shop, and all in excellent preservation25, having been tightly pegged26 out and thoroughly27 dried. The horns—or rather the skulls—were still a little high, and needed to be heaped well to leeward28 before we settled down to tea, camping on kegs and boxes and whatever we could find. I was made proud and happy by being accommodated with a seat on the lion skin; and exactly opposite to me, tranquilly29 grazing on the young grass, was the identical donkey which had attracted the king of animals to the spot where his fate awaited him. Although camped in the very heart of the lion country, the hunter had neither seen nor heard anything of his big game until this donkey chanced to be added to the stud, and then the lions came roaring round, half a dozen at a time. A huge fire had to be kept up night and day, and close to this the unhappy ass22 was tethered, for his life would not have been worth much otherwise; and he seems to have been thoroughly alive to the perils30 of his situation. Lions can resist anything except ass-flesh, it appears; but it is so entirely31 their favorite delicacy32 that they forget their cunning, and become absolutely reckless in pursuit of it. When at the last extremity33 of terror, the poor donkey used to lift up his discordant34 voice, and so keep the prowling foe35 at bay for a while, though it invariably had the double effect of attracting all the lions within earshot. And so it was that in the early dawn the hunter, hearing the lion’s growls36 coming nearer and nearer, and the poor donkey’s brays37 more and more frequent, stole out, rifle in hand, just in time to get a steady shot at the splendid brute38 only fifteen yards away, who was hungrily eyeing the miserable39 ass on the other side of the blazing fire. In spite of all legends to the contrary, a lion never attacks a man first, and this lion turned and moved away directly he saw the sportsman’s leveled rifle. Only one shot was fired, for the dull thud of the bullet told that it had struck the lion, and nothing upon earth is so dangerous as a wounded lion. The huge beast walked slowly away, and when the full daylight had come the sportsman and a few Kafirs followed up the blood-flecked trail for a quarter of a mile, or less, to find the lion lying down as if asleep, with his head resting on his folded fore paw, quite dead. I don’t think I ever understood the weight of a lion until I was told that it took two strong Kafirs to lift one of its ponderous fore feet a few inches even from the ground, and it was almost more than ten men could manage to drag it along the ground by ropes back to the tent. Twenty men could scarcely have carried it, the size and weight of the muscle are so enormous. The Kafirs prize the fat of the lion very highly, and the headman of the expedition had claimed this as his perquisite40, melting it down into gourds41 and selling it in infinitesimal portions as an unguent42. I don’t know what the market-price up country was, but whilst we were laughing and chatting over our tea I saw the crafty43 Kafir scooping44 out the tiniest bits of lion’s fat in return for a shilling. One of my Kafirs asked leave to go down and buy some. “What for, Jack45?” I asked. “Not for me, ma’—for my brudder: make him brave, ma’—able for plenty fight, ma’.” I am certain, however, that this was a ruse46, and that Jack felt his own need of the courage-giving ointment47.
Talking of Jack, reminds me of a visit I had the other day from a detachment of his friends and relatives. They did not come to see Jack: they came to see me, and very amusing visitors they were. First of all, there was a bride, who brought me a young hen as a present. She was attended by two or three scraggy girls of about fifteen, draped only in short mantles48 of coarse cloth. The bride herself was exceedingly smart, and had one of the prettiest faces imaginable. Her regular features, oval outline, dazzling teeth and charming expression were not a bit disfigured by her jet-black skin. Her hair was drawn49 straight up from her head like a tiara, stained red and ornamented50 with a profusion51 of bones and skewers52, feathers, etc., stuck coquettishly over one ear, and a band of bead53 embroidery54, studded with brass-headed nails, being worn like a fillet where the hair grew low on the forehead. She had a kilt—or series of aprons55, rather—of lynx skins, a sort of bodice of calf56 skin, and over her shoulders, arranged with ineffable57 grace, a gay table-cover. Then there were strings58 of beads59 on her pretty, shapely throat and arms, and a bright scarlet60 ribbon tied tight round each ankle. All the rest of the party seemed immensely proud of this young person, and were very anxious to put her forward in every way. Indeed, all the others, mostly hard-working, hard-featured matrons, prematurely61 aged62, took no more active part than the chorus of a Greek play, always excepting the old induna or headman of the village, who came as escort and in charge of the whole party. He was a most garrulous63 and amusing individual, full of reminiscences and anecdotes64 of his fighting days. He was rather more frank than most warriors65 who
Shoulder their crutch66 and show how fields are won,
for the usual end of his battle-stories was the na?ve confession67, “And then I thought I should be killed, and so I ran away.” He and I used up a great many interpreters in the course of the visit, for he wearied every one out, and nothing made him so angry as any attempt to condense his conversation in translating it to me. But he was great fun—polite, as became an old soldier, full of compliments and assurances that “now, the happiest day of his life having come, he desired to live no longer, but was ready for death.” The visit took place on the shady side of the verandah, and thither69 I brought my large musical-box and set it down on the ground to play. Never was there such a success. In a moment they were all down on their knees before it, listening with rapt delight, the old man telling them the music was caused by very little people inside the box, who were obliged to do exactly as I bade them. They were all in a perfect ecstasy70 of delight for ever so long, retreating rapidly, however, to a distance whenever I wound it up. The old induna took snuff copiously71 all the time, and made me affectionate speeches, which resulted in the gift of an old great-coat, which he assured me he never should live to wear out, because he was quite in a hurry to die and go to the white man’s land, now that he had seen me. We hunted up all manner of queer odds72 and ends for presents, and made everybody happy in turn. As a final ceremony, I took them through the house: tiny as it is, it filled them with amazement73 and delight. My long looking-glass was at once a terror and a pleasure to them, for they rather feared bewitchment; but I held up the baby to see himself in it, and then they were pacified74, saying, “The chieftainess never would go and bewitch that nice little chieftain.” As usual, the pictures were what they most thoroughly enjoyed. Landseer’s prints of wild cattle elicited75 low cries of recognition and surprise: “Zipi in korno!” (“Behold the cows!”) My own favorite print of the three little foxes was much admired, but pronounced to be “lill catties.” The bride was anxious to know why I kept the beds of the establishment on the floor and allowed people to walk over them. She did not consider that a good arrangement evidently; nor could she understand how matting could be of any use except to sleep on. At last it became time for “scoff,” and they all retired76 to partake of that dainty, the old induna having begged leave to kiss my hands, which he did very gallantly77, assuring me he had never been so happy before in all his life, and that he could quite believe now what I had told him about the great white queen over the sea being just as careful for and fond of her black children as of her white ones. I made a great point of this in my conversations with him, and showed them all Her Majesty78’s picture, to which they cried “Moochlie!” (“Nice!”), and gave the royal salute79. I must say I delight in these little glimpses of Kafir character; I find in those whom I come across, like my visitors of last week, so much simple dignity with shrewd common sense. Their minds, too, seem peculiarly adapted to receive and profit by anything like culture and civilization, and there certainly is a better foundation on which to build up both these things than in any other black race with which I am acquainted.
September 15.
Such an expedition as we have just made! It reminded me exactly of the dear old New Zealand days, only that I should have been sure to have had a better horse to ride in New Zealand than here. I have a very poor opinion of most of the animals here: anything like a tolerable horse is rare and expensive, and the ordinary run of steeds is ugly to look at, ill-groomed and ill-favored, besides not being up to much work. Upon this occasion I was mounted on a coarsely-put-together chestnut80, who was broken in to carry a lady a few evenings ago whilst I was getting ready for my ride. However, beyond being a little fidgety and difficult to mount, owing to lurking81 distrust of my habit, he has no objection to carry me. But he is as rough as a cart-horse in his paces, and the way he stops short in his canter or trot82, flinging all his legs about anywhere, is enough to jolt83 one’s spine84 out of the crown of one’s head. As for his mouth, it might as well be a stone wall, and he requires to be ridden tightly on the curb85 to keep him from tripping. When you add to these peculiarities86 a tendency to shy at every tuft of grass, and a habit of hanging the entire weight of his head on your bridle-hand as soon as he gets the least bit jaded87, it must be admitted that it would be easy to find a pleasanter horse for a long, hurried journey. Still, on the principle of all’s well that ends well, I ought not to be so severe on my steed, for the expedition ended well, and was really rather a severe tax on man and beast. This is the way we came to take it:
Ever since I arrived, now nearly a year ago, I have been hearing of a certain “bush” or forest some forty-five or fifty miles away, which is always named when I break into lamentations over the utter treelessness of Natal88. Latterly, I have had even a stronger craving89 than usual to see something more than a small plantation90 of blue gums, infantine oaks and baby firs, making a dot here and there amid the eternal undulation of the low hills around. “Seven-Mile Bush” has daily grown more attractive to my thoughts, and at last we accepted one of many kind and hospitable91 invitations thither, and I induced F—— to promise that he would forego the dear delight of riding down to his barn-like office for a couple of days, and come with Mr. C—— and me to the “bush.” This was a great concession92 on his part; and I may state here that he never ceased pining for his papers and his arm-chair from the moment we started until we came back.
It was necessary to make a very early start indeed, and the stars were still shining when we set off, though the first sunbeams were creeping brightly and swiftly over the high eastern hills. It was a fresh morning, in spite of the occasional puff93 of dust-laden air, which seemed to warn us every now and then that there was such a thing as a hot wind to be considered, and also that there had not been a drop of rain for these last five months. The whole country seems ground to powder, and the almost daily hot winds keep this powder incessantly95 moving about; so it is not exactly pleasant for traveling. We picked up our Kafir guide as we rode through the town, and made the best of our way at once across the flats between this and Edendale, which we left on our right, climbing slowly and tediously up a high hill above it; then down again and up again, constantly crossing clear, cold, bright rivulets—a welcome moment to horse and rider, for already our lips are feeling swollen96 and baked; across stony97 reefs and ridges99 cropping out from bare hillsides; past many a snug100 Kafir kraal clinging like the beehives of a giant to the side of a steep pitch, with the long red wagon-track stretching out as though for ever and ever before us. The sun is hot, very hot, but we have left it behind us in the valleys below, and we sweep along wherever there is a foothold for the horses, with a light and pleasant air blowing in our faces. Still, it is with feelings of profound content that at the end of a twenty-mile stage we see “Taylor’s,” a roadside shanty101, looking like a child’s toy set down on the vast flat around, but uncommonly102 comfortable and snug inside, with mealie-gardens and forage104-patches around, and more accommodation than one would have believed possible beneath its low, thatched eaves from the first bird’s-eye glance. The horses are made luxuriously105 comfortable directly in a roomy, cool shed, and we sit down to an impromptu106 breakfast in the cleanest of all inn-parlors. I have no doubt it would have been a very comprehensive and well-arranged meal, but the worst of it was it never had a chance of being taken as a whole. Whatever edible107 the nice, tidy landlady108 put down on her snowy cloth vanished like a conjuring109 trick before she had time to bring the proper thing to go with it. We ate our breakfast backward and forward, and all sorts of ways, beginning with jam, sardines110, and mustard, varied111 by eggs, and ending with rashers of bacon. As for the tea, we had drunk up all the milk and eaten the sugar by the time the pot arrived. The only thing which at all daunted112 us was some freshly-made boers’ bread, of the color of a sponge, the consistency113 of clay and the weight of pig iron. We were quite respectful to that bread, and only ventured to break off little crusts here and there and eat it guardedly, for it was a fearful condiment114. Still, we managed to eat an enormous breakfast in spite of it, and so did the horses; and we all started in highest condition and spirits a little before two o’clock, having had more than a couple of hours’ rest. After riding hard for some time, galloping115 over every yard of anything approaching to broken ground, we ventured to begin to question our guide—who kept up with us in an amazing manner, considering the prominence116 of his little rough pony’s ribs117—as to the remaining distance between us and “Seven-Mile Bush.” Imagine our horror when he crooked118 his hand at right angles to his wrist, and made slowly and distinctly five separate dips with it, pointing to the horizon as he did so! Now, the alarming part was, that there were five distinct and ever-rising ranges of hills before us, the range which made a hard ridge98 against the dazzling sky being of a deep and misty119 purple, so distant was it. We had been assured at Taylor’s that only twenty-five miles more lay between us and the “bush,” and those mountains must be now at least thirty miles off. But the guide only grins and nods his head, and kicks with his bare heels against his pony’s pronounced ribs, and we hasten on once more. On our right hand, but some distance off, rises the dark crest120 of the Swartzkopf Mountain, and beneath its shadow, extending over many thousand acres of splendid pasture-ground, is what is known as the Swartzkopf Location, a vast tract24 of country reserved—or rather appropriated—to the use of a large tribe of Kafirs. They dwell here in peace and plenty, and, until the other day, in prosperity too. But a couple of years ago lung-sickness broke out and decimated their herds121, reducing the tribe to the very verge122 of starvation and misery123. However, they battled manfully with the scourge124, but it gave them a distrust of cattle, and they took every opportunity of exchanging oxen for horses, of which they now own a great number. What we should have called in New Zealand “mobs” of them were to be seen peacefully pasturing themselves on the slopes around us, and in almost every nook and hollow nestled a Kafir kraal. Here and there were large irregular patches of brown on the fast greening hillsides, and these straggling patches, rarely if ever fenced, were the mealie-gardens belonging to the kraals.
By four of the clock we have made such good way that we can afford immediately after crossing Eland’s River, a beautiful stream, to “off saddle” and sit down and rest by its cool banks for a quarter of an hour. Then, tightening125 up our girths, we push off once more. It has been up hill the whole way, just excepting the sudden sharp descent into a deep valley on the farther side of each range; but the increasing freshness—nay126, sharpness—of the air proved to us how steadily127 we had been climbing up to a high level ever since we had passed through Edendale. From this point of the journey the whole scenic128 character of the country became widely different from anything I have hitherto seen in Natal. For the first time I began to understand what a wealth of beauty lies hidden away among her hills and valleys, and that the whole country is not made up of undulating downs, fertile flats and distant purple hills. At the top of the very first ridge up which we climbed after crossing Eland’s River a perfectly129 new and enchanting130 landscape opened out before us, and it gained in majesty and beauty with every succeeding mile of our journey. Ah! how can I make you see it in all its grandeur131 of form and glory of color? The ground is broken up abruptly132 into magnificent masses—cliffs, terraces and rocky crags. The hills expand into abrupt133 mountain-ranges, serrated in bold relief against the loveliest sky blazing with coming sunset splendors134. Every cleft135—or kloof, as it is called here—is filled with fragments of the giant forest which until quite lately must have clothed these rugged136 mountain-sides. Distant hill-slopes, still bare with wintry leanness, catch some slanting137 sun-rays on their scanty138 covering of queer, reddish grass, and straightway glow like sheets of amethyst139 and topaz, and behind them lie transparent140 deep-blue shadows of which no pigment141 ever spread on mortal palette could give the exquisite142 delicacy and depth. Under our horses’ feet the turf might be off the Sussex downs, so close and firm and delicious is it—the very thing for sheep, of which we only see a score here and there. “Why are there not more sheep?” I ask indignantly, with my old squatter143 instincts coming back in full force upon me. Mr. C—— translates my question to the Kafir guide, who grins and kicks his pony’s ribs and says, “No can keep ship here. Plenty Kafir dog: eat up all ships two, tree day.” “Yes, that is exactly the reason,” Mr. C—— says, “but I wanted you to hear it from himself.” And ever after this, I, remembering the dearness and scarcity144 of mutton in Maritzburg, and seeing all this splendid feed growing for nothing, look with an eye of extreme disfavor and animosity on all the gaunt, lean curs I see prowling about the kraals. Almost every Kafir we meet has half a dozen of these poaching-looking brutes145 at his heels, and it exasperates146 me to hear that there is a dog law or ordinance147, or something of that sort, “only it has not come into operation yet.” I wish it would come into operation to-morrow, and so does every farmer in the country, I should think. Yes, in spite of this fairest of fair scenes—and in all my gypsy life I have never seen anything much more beautiful—I feel quite cross and put out to think of imaginary fat sheep being harried148 by these useless, hideous149 dogs.
But the horses are beginning to go a little wearily, and gladly pause to wet their muzzles150 and cool their hoofs151 in every brook152 we cross. I am free to confess that I am getting very tired, for nothing is so wearying as a sudden, hurried journey like this, and I am also excessively hungry and thirsty. The sun dips down quite suddenly behind a splendid confusion of clouds and mountain-tops, lights up the whole sky for a short while with translucent153 masses of crimson154 and amber155, which fade swiftly away into strangest, tenderest tints156 of primrose158 and pale green, and then a flood of clear cold moonlight breaks over all and bathes everything in a differing but equally beautiful radiance. Three ridges have now been climbed, and the pertinacious159 guide only dips his hand twice more in answer to my peevish160 questions about the distance. Nay, he promises in wonderful Dutch and Kafir phraseology to show me the “baas’s” house (whither we are bound) from the very next ridge. But what a climb it is! and what a panorama161 do we look down upon from the topmost crag before commencing the steep descent, this time through a bit of dense68 forest! It is all as distinct as day, and yet there is that soft, ineffable veil of mystery and silence which moonlight wraps up everything in. We look over immense tree-tops, over plains which seem endless beneath the film of evening mist creeping over them, to where the broad Umkomanzi rushes and roars amid great boulders162 and rocks, leaping every here and there over a crag down to a lower level of its wide and rocky bed. In places the fine river widens out into a mere163, and then it sleeps tranquilly enough in the moonlight, making great patches of shimmering164 silver amid the profound shadows cast by hill and forest. Beyond, again, are mountains, always mountains, and one more day’s journey like this would take us into Adam Kop’s Land. As we look at it all now, it does indeed seem “a sleepy world of dreams;” but in another moment the panorama is shut out, for we are amid the intense darkness of the forest-path, stepping carefully down what resembles a stone ladder placed at an angle of 45°. Of course I am frightened, and of course my fright shows itself in crossness and in incoherent reproaches. I feel as if I were slipping down on my horse’s neck; and so I am, I believe. But nobody will “take me off,” which is what I earnestly entreat165. Both my gentlemen retain unruffled good-humor, and adjure166 me “not to think about it,” coupled with assurances of perfect safety. I hear, however, a great deal of slipping and sliding and rolling of displaced rocks even after these consoling announcements of safety, and orders are given to each weary steed to “hold up;” which orders are not at all reassuring167. Somebody told me somewhere—it seems months ago, but it must have been early in the afternoon—that this particular and dreadful hill was only three-quarters of a mile from the “baas’s;” so you may imagine my mingled169 rage and disappointment at hearing that it was still rather more than three miles off. And three miles at this stage of the journey is equal to thirteen at an earlier date. It is wonderful how well the horses hold out. This last bit of the road is almost flat, winding170 round the gentlest undulation possible, and it is as much as I can do to hold the chestnut, who has caught sight evidently of twinkling lights there under the lee of that great wooded cliff. No sound can ever be so delightful to a wearied and belated traveler as the bark of half a dozen dogs, and no greeting more grateful than their rough caresses171, half menace and half play. But there is a much warmer and more cordial welcome waiting for us behind the sako bono of the dogs, and I find myself staggering about as if the water I have been drinking so freely all day had been something much stronger. On my feet at last in such a pretty sitting-room172! Pictures, books, papers, all sorts of comforts and conveniences, and, sight of joy! a tea-table all ready, even to the tea-pot, which had been brought in when the dogs announced us. If I had even sixpence for every cup of tea I drank that evening, I should be a rich woman to the end of my days. As for the milk, deliciously fresh from the cow, it was only to be equaled by the cream; and you must have lived all these months in Natal before you can appreciate as we did the butter, which looked and tasted like butter, instead of the pale, salt, vapid173 compound, as much lard as anything else, for which we pay three shillings and sixpence a pound in Maritzburg, and which has been costing six shillings in Port Elizabeth all this winter.
It is always a marvel174 to me, arriving at night at these out-of-the-way places, which seem the very Ultima Thule of the habitable globe, how the furniture, the glass and china, the pictures and ornaments175 and books, get there. How has anybody energy to think of transporting all these perishable176 articles over that road? Think of their jolting177 in a bullock-wagon down that hill! One fancies if one lived here it must needs be a Robinson-Crusoe existence; instead of which it is as comfortable as possible; and if one did not remember the distance and the road and the country, one might be in England, except for the Kafir boys, barefooted and white-garmented, something like choristers, who are gliding178 about with incessant94 relays of food for us famished179 ones. The sweet little golden-haired children, rosy180 and fresh as the bough181 of apple-blossoms they are playing with, the pretty chatelaine in her fresh toilette,—all might have been taken up in a beneficent fairy’s thumb and transported, a moment ago, from the heart of civilization to this its farthest extremity. As for sleep, you must slumber182 in just such a bed if you want to know what a good night’s rest is, and then wake up as we did, with all memories of the long, wearying day’s journey clean blotted184 out of one’s mind, and nothing in it but eagerness not to lose a moment of the lovely fresh and cool day before us. Even the sailing clouds are beautiful, and the shadows they cast over the steep mountains, the broad rivers and the long dark belt of forest are more beautiful still. Of course, the “bush” is the great novelty to us who have not seen a tree larger than a dozen years’ growth could make it since we landed; and it is especially beautiful just now, for although, like all native forests, it is almost entirely evergreen185 (there is a more scientific word than that, isn’t there?), still, there are patches and tufts of fresh green coming out in delicate spring tints, which show vividly186 against the sombre mass of foliage187. But oh, I wish they had not such names! Handed down to us from our Dutch predecessors188, they must surely have got changed in some incomprehensible fashion, for what rhyme or reason, what sense or satire189, is there in such a name as “cannibal stink-wood”?—applied, too, to a graceful, handsome tree, whose bark gives out an aromatic190 though pungent192 perfume. Is it not a libel? For a tree with a particularly beautifully-veined wood, of a deep amber color, they could think of no more poetical193 or suggestive name than simply “yellow-wood:” a tree whose wood is of a rich veined brown, which goes, too, beautifully with the yellow-wood in furniture, is merely called “iron-wood,” because it chances to be hard; and so forth23.
Before going to the “bush,” however, we consider ourselves bound to go and look at the great saw-mill down by the Umkomanzi, where all these trees are divided and subdivided194, cut into lengths of twenty feet, sawn into planks195, half a dozen at a time, and otherwise changed from forest kings to plain, humdrum196 piles and slabs197 and posts for bridges, rooftrees, walls, and what not. There is the machinery198 at work, with just one ripple199, as it were, of the rushing river turned aside by a little sluice200, to drive the great wheel round and set all the mysterious pistons201 and levers moving up and down in their calm, monotonous202 strength, doing all sorts of miraculous203 things in the most methodical, commonplace manner. I was much struck by the physiognomy of the only two white men employed about this mill. There were some assistant Kafirs of course, but these two in their widely-different ways were at once repellent and interesting. One of them was, I think, the biggest man I ever saw. To say that he looked like a tall tree himself among his fellows is to give you, after all, the best idea of his enormous height and powerful build. He moved huge logs about with scarcely an effort, and it was entirely for his enormous physical strength that our host kept him in his place. I did not need to be told he was one of the most persistent204 and consistent bad characters imaginable, for a single glance at his evil countenance205 was enough to suggest that he could hardly be a very satisfactory member of society. He had only one eye, and about as hang-dog, sullen206, lowering a countenance as one would see out of the hulks. His “mate” was a civil, tidy, wizen-looking, elderly man, who might have appeared almost respectable by the side of the bigger villain207 if his shaking hand and bleared, restless eyes had not told his story plainly enough. Still, if he could only be kept out of temptation the old man might be trusted; but our host confessed that he did not half like retaining the services of the other, and yet did not know where to find any one who would or could do his work so easily and admirably. It is almost impossible to get any men to come and live up here, so far away from their fellow-creatures and from everything except their work; so one has to put up with a thousand drawbacks in the service one is able to procure208. I was glad when we turned our backs upon that villainous-looking giant and strolled beneath a perfect sun and sky and balmy air toward the lowest kloof or cleft where the great “bush” ran down between two steep spurs. The grass of the downs over which we walked had all the elasticity209 of tread of turf to our feet, but they ended abruptly in a sort of terrace, under which ran a noisy, chattering210 brooklet211 in a vast hurry to reach the Umkomanzi over yonder. It is easy to scramble212 down among the tangle213 of ferns and reeds and across the boulders which this long dry winter has left bare, and so strike one of the Bushmen’s paths without difficulty, and get into the heart of the forest before we allow ourselves to sit down and look around us. How wonderfully poetical and beautiful it all is!—the tall, stately trees around us, with their smooth magnificent boles shooting up straight as a willow214 wand for sixty feet and more before putting forth their crown of lofty branches, the more diminutive215 undergrowth of gracefulest shrubs216 and plumy tufts of fern and lovely wild flowers—violets, clematis, wood-anemones and hepaticas—showing here and there a modest gleam of color. But indeed the very mosses217 and lichens218 at our feet are a week’s study, and so are the details of the delicate green tracery creeping close to the ground. The trees, the actual great forest trees, are our delight, however, and we never weary of calling to each other to “come and look at this one,” extemporizing219 measuring-lines from the endless green withies which hang in loops and festoons from the higher branches. Thirty feet round five feet from the ground is not an uncommon103 measurement, and it is half sad, half amusing to see how in an hour or so we too begin to look upon everything as timber, to call the most splendid trees “blocks” (the woodman’s word), and to speculate and give opinions as to the best way of “falling” the beautiful stems. Up above our heads the foliage seems all interlaced and woven together by a perfect network of these monkey ropes—a stout220 and sturdy species of liane, really—such as I have seen swinging from West India forest trees. Here they are actually used as a sort of trapeze by the troops of baboons221 which live in these great woods, coming down in small armies when the mealies are ripe, and carrying off literally223 armsful of cobs. The Kafirs dread168 the baboons more than anything else, and there is a regular organized system of warfare224 between them, in which the baboons by no means get the worst. I heard a sickening story of how only last season the Kafirs of a kraal close by, infuriated by their losses, managed to catch an old baboon222, leader of his troop, and skinned him and let him go again into the woods. It is too horrible to think of such cruelty, and it seemed a blot183 upon the lovely idyllic225 scene around us. All the wild animals with which the bush was teeming226 until a very few years ago are gradually being driven farther and farther back into the highest part, which has not yet been touched by axe227 or hatchet228. There are still many kinds of buck, however—we saw three splendid specimens229 grazing just outside—besides other game. It must—not so long ago, either—have been the quiet forest home of many a wild creature, for there are pits now to be seen, one of which we came across with sharp stakes at the bottom, dug to trap elephants, whose bones lie there to this day. Tigers also have been seen, and panthers and leopards230, but they grow scarcer every year. The aboriginal231 inhabitants of the border country beyond, the little Bushmen—the lowest type of human creatures—used to come down and hunt in great numbers here in this very spot where we are sitting, and traces of their ingenious methods of snaring232 their prey233 are to be seen in many places.
As I sat there, with the tinkle234 of the water in my ears, sole break in the “charmèd silence” around, I could not make up my mind which was the most enchanting, to look up or down—up to where the tenderest tint157 of cobalt blue showed through the flicker235 of green leaves nearly a hundred feet above us, and where a sudden terror among the birds drove them in bright-plumaged flight from bough to bough; or down on the ground among the delicious brown leaves and wonderful minuti? of diminutive tendril and flower. Here and there were fallen crimson and yellow leaves, riveting236 the eye for a moment by their vivid glow, or the young fronds237 of a rare fern over yonder are pushing up their curled horns of pale green. A month hence it will be all carpeted with wild flowers, and the heaths will be spires238 of tiny bells. There is also a coarse but sweet grass, growing luxuriantly, on which the cattle love to feed when all the herbage outside is parched239 and burned to the very root.
As I read over what I have written, I am filled with a deep disgust to perceive how impossible it has been for me to catch even the faintest reflection of the charm of that forest-glade—how its subtle beauty is not, by any poor words of mine, to be transferred to paper—how its stillness and its life, its grandeur and its delicate prettinesses, the aroma191 of the freshly-cut logs, the chirrup of the cicalas, the twitter of the birds, all, all escape me. Yet I shall have failed indeed if I have not been able to convey to you that it was a delicious hour, and that I enjoyed every moment of it. I am only a woman, so I was content to sit there plaiting a crown of ferns, and thinking how I should tell you all about it some day, perhaps. My companions conversed240 together, and their talk was entirely about killing241 something—“sport” they called it—how best they could get a shot at those graceful bucks242 over yonder; what a pity the close season had begun; what partridges there were; when the wild-ducks would come down to that large mere shining in the distance; whether there were any wild-pigeons; how far into the unexplored bush one must penetrate243 to get a shot at a panther; and so forth. It seemed a desecration244 to talk of taking life on such a heavenly morning, and I was glad when it all ended in a project of a fishing-excursion after a late luncheon245.
As we found we should be obliged to start early to-morrow morning, I decided246 to stay at home and rest this afternoon; and I did not regret my resolution, for it was very pleasant by the fire, and our beautiful morning turned into a raw, cold drizzle247. But, as the people about here say, it has really forgotten how to rain, and it is more like a Scotch248 mist than anything else. Whatever it may be called, it blots249 out mountain and forest and river, and causes the fishing-excursion to turn into the dismalest failure. Next morning, too, when we start after breakfast, we are all glad of our waterproofs250 (what should I do without my ulster?), and the ground is as slippery as though it had been soaped. Our farewells are made, and we declare that we have no need of our Kafir guide again, though I confess to misgivings251 as to how we are to find our road through so thick a mist. It has also been decided, for the sake of the horses, to take them only as far as Taylor’s to-night, and so break the journey. But the question is, Shall we ever find Taylor’s? for it is a little off the track, and we cannot see five yards to our right hand or our left. We are obliged to go very slowly, and there are places, steep up and down hill, where in spite of precaution and picking out grass or stones to go over, our horses’ feet fly from under them, and we each in our turn come down on the damp red clay in an awkward sprawl252. However, we do not disgrace ourselves by tumbling off, and my poor habit fares the worst, for the chestnut always seems to pick himself up, in some odd way, by its help; and the process is not beneficial to it. Eland’s River is crossed early in the afternoon, and then, slippery or not, we are forced to push on, for it seems as though it intended to be pitchy dark by four o’clock, and the mist turns into a thick, fine rain. At last, about half-past four, we hear on our left the joyful253 sound of barking dogs and crowing cocks, and the horses of their own accord show a simultaneous desire to turn off the track, to which, with its guiding wagon-wheels, we have so persistently254 clung. If it be not Taylor’s—if it turns out that these sounds come only from a Kafir kraal—then indeed I don’t know what we shall do, for we can never find the track again. It is an anxious moment, and Taylor’s is so small and so low that we are as likely as not to ride right over it; but no, there is a wagon, and behind the wagon, and not much higher, is a thatched roof, and under that thatched roof are warmth and food and shelter and a warm, cordial welcome; all of which good things we are enjoying in five minutes’ time. As for the horses, they are rubbed down and put to stand in a warm shed, with bedding up to their knees and a perfect orgie of mealies and green forage before them in boxes. Let us hope they enjoyed the contrast between indoors and out of doors as much as we did. At all events, they were freshness itself next morning, when we made another start—not quite so early, for only the lesser255 half of our long journey lay before us, and the flood of sunshine made it worth while to wait a little and let the soapy clay tracks have a chance to get dry.
It was exquisitely256 fresh and balmy about nine o’clock, when, after a capital breakfast, we did start at last, and the well-washed hills had actually put on quite a spring-green tint since we passed them a couple of days ago from yesterday’s long looked-for, much-wanted rain. I went through many anxieties, however, on that return journey, because my two companions, who were in the most tearing, school-boy spirits, insisted on leaving the road with its guiding marks of wagon-wheels, as well as every landmark257 to which I fondly clung, and taking me across country, over hill and dale, through swampy258 hollows and over rocky goat-paths, until I was quite bewildered and thoroughly incredulous as to where we should emerge. It is true that the dark crest of Swartzkopf lay steadily to our left, just where it should be, but I invariably protested we were all wrong when I had any leisure or breath to do anything but “hold on with my eyelids” up and down hill. At last we climbed up our last hill-face, and there, below us, literally smiling in the sunshine, lay the pretty little mission settlement of Edendale. We were exactly where we wanted, topographically speaking, to be, but between us and Edendale the mountain dropped sheer down, as it seemed to me, and naught259 but a goat-path was there. “Of course we are going to get off and lead our horses down,” I fondly hope. No such thing! I can’t very well get off by myself, for the precipice260 is so sheer that I should certainly drop down a hundred feet or so. F—— steadily declines to “take me off,” and begins to slip and slither down the track on horseback. I feel my saddle getting into all sorts of odd positions, and I believe I am seated on my horse’s ears, although I lean back until I can nearly touch his tail. It is really horrible. I get more and more cross every moment, and scold F—— and reproach Mr. C—— furiously all the way down, without eliciting261 the smallest sign of remorse262 from either. But it is very difficult to remain cross when once we have reached the foot of that cruel descent, for it is all inexpressibly lovely and calm and prosperous that beautiful spring morning. Everybody seems busy, and yet good-humored. The little black children grinned and saluted263 on their way to school; the elders cried “Sako bono, inkosa!” as they looked up from their basket-plaiting or their wagon-making; the mill-wheel turned merrily with a busy clatter264 inexpressibly cool and charming; the numerous fowls265 and ducks cackled and quacked266 as they scuttled267 from under our horses’ feet. We rode down the main street, with its neat row of unburnt brick houses on either hand, across a little river, and so, under avenues of syringas whose heavy perfume filled the delicious air, out into the open country once more. It is nearly a dead level between this and Maritzburg, and the road is in good order after the long winter drought; so we make the best of our way, and hardly draw rein268 until we are under the lee of the hill on which Fort Napier stands. Here is a villainous bit of road, a perfect study of ingenuity269 as to cross-drains, holes and pitfalls270 generally; so the horses take breath once more for an easy canter down the quiet straight streets of the sleepy little Dutch town. Our cottage lies beyond it and across the river, but it is still early, hardly noon in fact, when we pull up at our own stable-door, and the horses seem every whit21 as fresh and in as good condition as when we started, yet they have gone close upon one hundred miles from first to last,
Over hill, over dale,
Through brush, through brier.
September 25.
I declare I have not said anything about the weather for a long time. I cannot finish more appropriately than by one of my little meteorological reports. The skies are trying to remember how to rain; we have every now and then a cold, gray day—a day which is my particular delight, it is so like an English one; then rain more or less heavy, and an attempt at a thunderstorm. The intervening days are brightly glaring and exceedingly hot. Everything is bursting hurriedly and luxuriantly into bloom; my scraggy rose-bushes are thickly covered with buds, which blow into splendid roses after every shower; the young oaks are a mass of tender, luxuriant green, and even the unpoetical blue gums try hard to assume a fresh spring tint; the fruit trees look like large bouquets271 of pink blossom, and the laquot trees afford good sport for G—— in climbing and stone-throwing. On the veldt the lilies are pushing up their green sheaths and brilliant cups through the still hard ground, the black hill-slopes are turning a vivid green, and the weeds are springing up in millions all over my field-like flower-beds. Spring is always lovely everywhere, but nowhere lovelier than in “fair Natal.”
The End
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1
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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2
trekking
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| v.艰苦跋涉，徒步旅行( trek的现在分词 )；（尤指在山中）远足，徒步旅行，游山玩水 | |
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fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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4
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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5
adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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7
buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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9
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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10
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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11
trophy
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| n.优胜旗，奖品，奖杯，战胜品，纪念品 | |
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trophies
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| n.（为竞赛获胜者颁发的）奖品( trophy的名词复数 )；奖杯；（尤指狩猎或战争中获得的）纪念品；（用于比赛或赛跑名称）奖 | |
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13
earrings
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| n.耳环( earring的名词复数 )；耳坠子 | |
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14
discomforts
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| n.不舒适( discomfort的名词复数 )；不愉快，苦恼 | |
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elicit
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| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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16
tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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18
conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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19
necessitating
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| 使…成为必要，需要( necessitate的现在分词 ) | |
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20
lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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21
whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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23
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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25
preservation
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| n.保护，维护，保存，保留，保持 | |
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26
pegged
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| v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的过去式和过去分词 )；使固定在某水平 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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28
leeward
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| adj.背风的；下风的 | |
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tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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perils
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| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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brays
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| n.驴叫声，似驴叫的声音( bray的名词复数 )；（喇叭的）嘟嘟声v.发出驴叫似的声音( bray的第三人称单数 )；发嘟嘟声；粗声粗气地讲话（或大笑）；猛击 | |
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38
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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39
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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perquisite
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| n.固定津贴，福利 | |
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41
gourds
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| n.葫芦( gourd的名词复数 ) | |
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42
unguent
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| n.（药）膏；润滑剂；滑油 | |
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43
crafty
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| adj.狡猾的，诡诈的 | |
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44
scooping
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| n.捞球v.抢先报道( scoop的现在分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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45
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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46
ruse
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| n.诡计，计策；诡计 | |
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47
ointment
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| n.药膏，油膏，软膏 | |
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48
mantles
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| vt.&vi.覆盖（mantle的第三人称单数形式） | |
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49
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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50
ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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52
skewers
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| n.串肉扦( skewer的名词复数 )；烤肉扦；棒v.（用串肉扦或类似物）串起，刺穿( skewer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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53
bead
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| n.念珠；(pl.)珠子项链；水珠 | |
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54
embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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55
aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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56
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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59
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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60
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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61
prematurely
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| adv.过早地，贸然地 | |
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62
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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63
garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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64
anecdotes
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| n.掌故，趣闻，轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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66
crutch
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| n.T字形拐杖；支持，依靠，精神支柱 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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68
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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69
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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70
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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71
copiously
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| adv.丰富地，充裕地 | |
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72
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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73
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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74
pacified
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| 使（某人）安静( pacify的过去式和过去分词 )； 息怒； 抚慰； 在（有战争的地区、国家等）实现和平 | |
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75
elicited
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| 引出，探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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77
gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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78
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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79
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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80
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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81
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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82
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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83
jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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84
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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85
curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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86
peculiarities
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| n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
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87
jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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88
natal
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| adj.出生的，先天的 | |
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89
craving
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| n.渴望,热望 | |
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90
plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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91
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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92
concession
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| n.让步，妥协；特许(权) | |
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93
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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94
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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95
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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96
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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97
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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98
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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99
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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100
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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101
shanty
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|
| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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102
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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103
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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104
forage
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| n.(牛马的)饲料，粮草；v.搜寻，翻寻 | |
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105
luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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106
impromptu
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| adj.即席的，即兴的；adv.即兴的(地)，无准备的(地) | |
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107
edible
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| n.食品，食物；adj.可食用的 | |
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108
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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109
conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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110
sardines
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| n. 沙丁鱼 | |
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111
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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112
daunted
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| 使（某人）气馁，威吓( daunt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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113
consistency
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| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
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114
condiment
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| n.调味品 | |
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115
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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116
prominence
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| n.突出；显著；杰出；重要 | |
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117
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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118
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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119
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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120
crest
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|
| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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121
herds
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| 兽群( herd的名词复数 )； 牧群； 人群； 群众 | |
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122
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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123
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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124
scourge
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| n.灾难，祸害；v.蹂躏 | |
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125
tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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126
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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127
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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128
scenic
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| adj.自然景色的，景色优美的 | |
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129
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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130
enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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131
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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132
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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133
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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134
splendors
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| n.华丽( splendor的名词复数 )；壮丽；光辉；显赫 | |
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135
cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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136
rugged
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|
| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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137
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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138
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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139
amethyst
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| n.紫水晶 | |
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140
transparent
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|
| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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141
pigment
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| n.天然色素，干粉颜料 | |
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142
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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143
squatter
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| n.擅自占地者 | |
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144
scarcity
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| n.缺乏，不足，萧条 | |
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145
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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146
exasperates
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|
| n.激怒，触怒( exasperate的名词复数 )v.激怒，触怒( exasperate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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147
ordinance
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| n.法令；条令；条例 | |
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148
harried
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| v.使苦恼( harry的过去式和过去分词 )；不断烦扰；一再袭击；侵扰 | |
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149
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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150
muzzles
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| 枪口( muzzle的名词复数 )； （防止动物咬人的）口套； （四足动物的）鼻口部； （狗）等凸出的鼻子和口 | |
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151
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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152
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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153
translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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154
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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155
amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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156
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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157
tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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158
primrose
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| n.樱草，最佳部分， | |
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159
pertinacious
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| adj.顽固的 | |
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160
peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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161
panorama
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| n.全景，全景画，全景摄影，全景照片[装置] | |
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162
boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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163
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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164
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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165
entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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166
adjure
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| v.郑重敦促(恳请) | |
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167
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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168
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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169
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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170
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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171
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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172
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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173
vapid
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| adj.无味的；无生气的 | |
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174
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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175
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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176
perishable
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|
| adj.（尤指食物）易腐的，易坏的 | |
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177
jolting
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| adj.令人震惊的 | |
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178
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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179
famished
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| adj.饥饿的 | |
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180
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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181
bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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182
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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183
blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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184
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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185
evergreen
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| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
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186
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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187
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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188
predecessors
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| n.前任( predecessor的名词复数 )；前辈；（被取代的）原有事物；前身 | |
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189
satire
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| n.讽刺，讽刺文学，讽刺作品 | |
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190
aromatic
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|
| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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191
aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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192
pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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193
poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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194
subdivided
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| 再分，细分( subdivide的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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195
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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196
humdrum
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| adj.单调的，乏味的 | |
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197
slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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198
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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199
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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200
sluice
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| n.水闸 | |
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201
pistons
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| 活塞( piston的名词复数 ) | |
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202
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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203
miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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204
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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205
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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206
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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207
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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208
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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209
elasticity
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| n.弹性，伸缩力 | |
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210
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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211
brooklet
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| n. 细流, 小河 | |
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212
scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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213
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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214
willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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215
diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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216
shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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217
mosses
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| n. 藓类, 苔藓植物 名词moss的复数形式 | |
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218
lichens
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| n.地衣( lichen的名词复数 ) | |
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219
extemporizing
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| v.即兴创作，即席演奏( extemporize的现在分词 ) | |
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221
baboons
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| n.狒狒( baboon的名词复数 ) | |
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222
baboon
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| n.狒狒 | |
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223
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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224
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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225
idyllic
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| adj.质朴宜人的，田园风光的 | |
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226
teeming
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| adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
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227
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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228
hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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229
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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230
leopards
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| n.豹( leopard的名词复数 )；本性难移 | |
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231
aboriginal
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| adj.（指动植物）土生的，原产地的，土著的 | |
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232
snaring
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| v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的现在分词 ) | |
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233
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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234
tinkle
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| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
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235
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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236
riveting
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| adj.动听的，令人着迷的，完全吸引某人注意力的；n.铆接（法） | |
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237
fronds
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| n.蕨类或棕榈类植物的叶子( frond的名词复数 ) | |
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238
spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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239
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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240
conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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241
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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242
bucks
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| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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243
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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244
desecration
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| n. 亵渎神圣, 污辱 | |
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245
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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246
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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247
drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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248
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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249
blots
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| 污渍( blot的名词复数 )； 墨水渍； 错事； 污点 | |
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250
waterproofs
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| n.防水衣物，雨衣 usually plural( waterproof的名词复数 )v.使防水，使不透水( waterproof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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251
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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252
sprawl
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| vi.躺卧，扩张，蔓延；vt.使蔓延；n.躺卧，蔓延 | |
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253
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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254
persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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255
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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256
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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257
landmark
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| n.陆标，划时代的事，地界标 | |
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258
swampy
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| adj.沼泽的，湿地的 | |
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259
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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260
precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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261
eliciting
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| n. 诱发, 引出 动词elicit的现在分词形式 | |
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262
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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263
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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264
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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265
fowls
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| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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266
quacked
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| v.（鸭子）发出嘎嘎声( quack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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267
scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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268
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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269
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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270
pitfalls
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| （捕猎野兽用的）陷阱( pitfall的名词复数 )； 意想不到的困难，易犯的错误 | |
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271
bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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