Do you happen, by any chance, to have been to Mahé, in the Seychelles? No? Of course not. Then you must picture an emerald island dropped down in a turquoise7 sea. Peacock-coloured waves ripple8 on a silver strand9, and this loses itself almost immediately in a dense10 forest of giant palms, which, mounting leisurely11, [Pg 249] dwindles12 and straggles and runs out in a peak of bare blue rock, which disappears, in turn, behind a great, low-hanging, purple heat cloud. To reach these delectable13 isles14 one must have time and patience a-plenty, for they lie far from the ocean highways and are visited by scarcely a dozen vessels16, all told, each year. Draw a line straight across the Indian Ocean from Colombo to Zanzibar, and where that line intersects the equator are the Seychelles, mere17 specks18 in that expanse of ocean. Mahé, the largest of the group, is everything that a tropical island should be, according to the story-books, even to its inaccessibility19, for, barring the French mail steamer which touches there every other month on its way to Madagascar, and an occasional German freighter or British tramp which drops in on its way from Goa to Kilindini, on the chance of picking up a cargo of copra, it is as completely cut off from the outside world as though it were in Mars.
I rather imagine that they are the loneliest people in the world, those score of men and women—English, French, and German—who constitute the entire white population of the islands. That is why they are so pathetically eager to welcome the rare visitors who come their way. Indeed, until I went to Mahé I never knew what hospitality really meant. When our anchor rumbled20 down under the shadow of the Morne Seychellois, and the police boat—its crew of negroes, with their flashing teeth and big, good-humoured faces, their trim, blue sailor suits and broad-brimmed straw wide-awakes, looking like overgrown children—had [Pg 250] taken me ashore22, I promptly23 found myself surrounded by the entire European population.
“I am the wife of the legal adviser24 to the Crown,” said a sweet-faced little Irishwoman. “My husband and I would be so pleased if you would come up to our bungalow25 for dinner. You can have no idea how good it seems to see a white face again.”
“Oh, I say, then you must promise to breakfast with me,” urged a tall young Englishman in immaculate white linen26, who, it proved, was the superior judge of the colony. “You won't disappoint me, will you, old chap? I'm dying to hear what's going on in the world. And if you should have any magazines or newspapers that you could spare——”
But the government chaplain, wasting no time in words, fairly hustled27 me into a diminutive28 dog-cart and, amid the reproaches of his fellow-exiles, off we rattled30 behind the only horse on the island. The padre was not to monopolise me for long, however, for the little group of homesick exiles pursued us to his bungalow, where they settled me in a long cane31 chair, thrust upon me cheroots and whiskey-and-sodas, and listened breathlessly to the bits of world gossip for which I ransacked32 the pigeon-holes of my memory for their benefit. The newest songs, the most recent plays, the latest fashions, all the gossip of Broadway and Oxford33 Street and the Avenue de l'Opéra—they hung on my words with an eagerness that was pathetic.
“I hope you'll pardon us,” apologised my host, “but it's so seldom that we see a pukka white man out [Pg 251] here that we quite forget the few manners we have left in our eagerness to learn what is going on at home—the little things, you know, that are not important enough to put in the cables and that they never think to put in the letters. Until you have lived in such a place as this, my friend, you don't know the meaning of that word 'home.'”
It is hot in the Seychelles; hot with a damp, sticky, humid, enervating34 heat which is unknown away from the Line. They tell a story in Mahé of an English resident who died from fever and went to the lower regions. A few days later his friends received a message from the departed. It said, “Please send down my blankets.” There are days in an American midsummer when indoors becomes oppressive; it is always oppressive in the Seychelles, in January as in August, at midnight as at noon. During the “hot season” it is overpoweringly so, for you live for six months at a stretch in a bath of perspiration35 and wonder whether you will ever know what it is to be cool again. “There are six hundred minutes in every hour of the hot weather,” the governor's wife remarked to me, “and not one of them bearable. Although,” she added, “after the mercury in your bedroom thermometer has climbed above one hundred and thirty, a few more degrees don't much matter.” In her bungalow, for the greater part of the day, the white woman in the Seychelles is as much a prisoner by reason of the heat as is a Turkish woman in a harem from custom. Having neither shopping, domestic duties, nor callers to occupy her, the only break in the day's [Pg 252] terrible monotony comes at sunset, when every one meets every one else at the little club on the water-front which, with its breeze-swept verandas38 and its green croquet lawns and tennis courts, is the universal gathering-place between the hours of six and eight. An afternoon nap is universal—if the flies will allow it. Flies by day and mosquitoes by night are as wearing on European nerves as the climate, the beds being from necessity so smothered39 in mosquito netting that the air that gets within is as unsatisfactory as strained milk. In the hot weather a punkah is kept going all night—this huge, swinging fan, pulled by a coolie who squats41 in the veranda37 outside, and who can go to sleep without ceasing his pulling, being as necessary for comfort as a pillow—while, during the hottest nights, it is customary to sleep unclad and uncovered, save for a sheet, which the punkah-coolie, slipping in every hour, sprinkles with water.
The white woman in this part of the world is an early riser. A cup of tea is always served her when she is awakened42, and as soon as she is dressed comes chota hazri, or the little breakfast, consisting of tea, toast, eggs, and fruit. The most is made of the cool hours of the morning, for in the hot weather it is customary to “shut up the bungalow” at about seven A. M., when the temperature is moderately low compared with what it will rise to a few hours later. Every door and window is closed and thereafter the greatest care is taken to make entrances and exits as quickly as possible, for a door left open for any length of time quickly [Pg 253] raises the temperature. If kept carefully closed, however, it is remarkable43 how cool the room keeps as compared with the stifling44 heat without.
Though a Seychellian bungalow is generally barn-like without and barren within, its European mistress usually contrives45 to make its rooms pretty and inviting46, it being astonishing what marvels47 of transformation48 can be accomplished49 by means of native mattings, Indian printed curtains, and furniture of Chinese wicker, all effective and ridiculously cheap. The kitchen is a detached building, erected50 as far away from the bungalow as possible, and the white woman who knows when she is well off seldom enters it. Once a month, however, she inspects her cooking pots and pans, because, being made of copper51, they have to be periodically tinned or they become poisonous, almost as many lives being lost in the tropics by the neglect of this simple precaution as by failure to have every drop of drinking water boiled. As there is no ice-making plant in the Seychelles, water is cooled for drinking by being placed in a porous52 earthenware53 vessel15 and swung to and fro in the heated atmosphere until, though still far from cool, it is a little less tepid54 and nauseous.
But the European residents are not the only exiles in the Seychelles, nor, to my way of thinking, the ones most to be pitied, for of recent years these islands, presumably because of their very remoteness, have been turned into a political prison for those deposed55 cannibal kings whose kingdoms have, on one excuse and another, been added to the dominions56 of the British Crown. [Pg 254] At present there are three political prisoners of note on the island of Mahé—King Kabanga of Uganda, King Assibi of the Gold Coast, and King Prempeh of Ashantee. Though all of these ebony royalties were enthusiastic patrons of the cooking-pot, King Prempeh is by far the most notorious and the most interesting personality of the three, for it was his palace at Kumasi that was built of the skulls57 and surrounded by a neat picket58 fence made from the leg and arm bones of the people he and his tribesmen had eaten. Hard by the palace was the ghastly “crucifixion grove” where the victims were slaughtered59 and their bodies hung until sufficiently60 gamy to suit the royal palate. Owing to an error of judgment61 in selecting a British commissioner62 as the pièce de résistance for one of his feasts, an expedition was sent to Ashantee, the country annexed63 to the British empire, and its ruler forced to exchange his skull-walled palace in Kumasi for a four-roomed, tin-roofed cottage in the outskirts64 of Victoria, the capital of the Seychelles, where, surrounded by the huts of the chieftains who accompanied him into exile, he lives on the meagre pension granted him by the British Government.
Clad in the flaming cotton robe of red and yellow which is the West African equivalent of royal ermine, worn over a pair of very soiled pajamas65, his Majesty66 received me on the veranda of his little dwelling67 in the presence of the constable68 who guards him and who acts as interpreter when the King's scanty69 store of English gives out. Now I am not an entire stranger to the ways of the Lord's Anointed, but this audience with Prempeh [Pg 255] of Ashantee was one of the most memorable70 experiences that I can recall. In the first place, the mercury had crept up and up and up until it hovered71 in the neighbourhood of one hundred and thirty degrees in the shade of the house; in the second place, the sons of the King (he told me that he had forty-two in all) had crowded into the tiny room until the place fairly reeked72 with the smell of perspiration; in the third place, I was at a loss what to talk to his Majesty about. The questions which one would like to ask a cannibal king are obvious—whether he takes his meat rare or well done, whether he prefers the tenderloin or the sirloin, whether he likes white meat better than black—but Prempeh of Ashantee is not at all the sort of person with whom one would feel inclined to take liberties, and I was very far from being sure whether he would consider such questions as liberties or not. After an awkward pause, during which the King shuffled74 his feet uneasily and I wiped away rivulets75 of perspiration, he said something in Ashantee—at least I suppose it was Ashantee—to one of his attendants, who shortly returned with a tin tray holding a bottle of whiskey, a siphon of lukewarm seltzer, and a couple of very dirty glasses. After another long and uncomfortable pause, the King asked me if I wouldn't have something to drink. Taking it for granted that Prempeh's capacity for drink would be as outré as his choice of food, I poured his beer glass full to the brim with whiskey, giving to myself the drink sanctioned by civilised custom.
“In my country,” said the King, leaning forward [Pg 256] and speaking in the broken English which he had acquired from the government chaplain, “bad men sometimes try to poison king, so king turn drinks other way round,” and, suiting the action to the words, he turned the tray so as to place before me the beer-glassful of whiskey. I have never been quite certain whether there was a twinkle in the eye of that simple-hearted cannibal when he literally76 turned the table on me or not.
At the time of my visit to Prempeh he was in the throes of marital77 unhappiness, the details of which he confided78 to me. It seems that for several years past he had been endeavouring to gain admission to the Church-of-England fold, arguing, plausibly79 enough, that such a proof of his complete regeneration might result in inducing the British Government to send him back to his home in Ashantee. Working on that assumption, he had, not long before, asked the government chaplain to confirm him, to which request that gratified but still somewhat sceptical clergyman had replied: “I am sorry to say that what your Majesty asks is at present impossible, as your Majesty's marital affairs are not pleasing to the church.”
So Prempeh, who had brought only twelve of his wives with him into exile, thinking that the church held such a number to be incompatible80 with his dignity,—for the workings of the West African mind are peculiar81, remember,—sent a message to the governor of the Seychelles asking permission to take a maiden82 of Mahé for his thirteenth spouse83, and it was not until the indignant chaplain remonstrated84 with him for his fall from grace [Pg 257] that he grasped the fact that Christianity demands of its converts the minimum instead of the maximum number of wives.
“So me ship three wives back Africa,” Prempeh explained to me in his quaint86 West Coast English. “Now me have only nine. Nine wives not many for great king. But if chappy [chaplain] not let me in church with nine wives, then me ship them back Africa too, for me very much homesick to see Ashantee.”
Poor, deposed, exiled, homesick king, he will never again see that African home for which he longs, I fear, for he cost England far too much in lives and money. He came out on the veranda of his little house to say good-by, and as I looked back, as my 'rickshaw boy drew me swiftly down the road, he was still standing87 there waving to me—a real, dyed-in-the-wool cannibal king, who has killed and eaten more human beings, I suppose, than almost any man that ever lived.
Two days' steam southward from the Seychelles, and midway between the island of Mahé and Diégo-Suarez, on the north coast of Madagascar, lies the islet of Saint Pierre, whence comes much of the guano with which we fertilise our flower-beds and gardens, and those giant sea-turtles whose shells supply our women-folk with fans, combs, and brooches. Here, on this half a square mile of sun-baked rock in the middle of the Indian Ocean, the Scotch88 manager of the syndicate which works the guano deposits lives the whole year round, during half of which time he sees no human face, [Pg 258] during the other half having the company of a few score blacks who are brought over from Mahé under contract to gather the rich deposits of guano. His only shelter a wooden shack89, his only companions the clouds of clamorous90 sea-fowl, his only fresh food turtles and fish, his only communication with the world two times a year when the workers come and go, I expected to find him unshaven and slovenly91, the most exiled of all exiles, the loneliest of the lonely. I made up a bundle of two-months-old newspapers and pictured the pleasure it would give him to learn the news of that big, busy, teeming92 world which lay over there beyond the rim21 of the Indian Ocean. I imagined that he would cling to my arm and beg piteously for news from home, and I thought it quite possible that he might weep on my shoulder. But when a crew of blacks had taken me through the booming surf in a tiny native dugout, and I and my bundle of newspapers had been hauled up an overhanging cliff at the end of a rope, I found the poor exile whose lonely lot I had come to cheer immaculate in white linen and pipe-clayed shoes and wholly contented93 with the shade of a green palm, the murmur94 of a turquoise sea, a book of Robert Burns's verses, and the contents of a large black bottle.
When De Lesseps, that lean Frenchman with the vision of a prophet and the energy of a Parisian, drove his spade through the sands of Suez and thereby95 shortened the sea-road from Europe to the East by five thousand miles, he gave France her revenge on Saint Helena. [Pg 259] Ever since Clive won England her Indian empire, this obscure rock in the South Atlantic had been a prosperous half-way house on the road to the Farther East, its lonely islanders driving a roaring trade with the winged fleets of war and commerce that stopped there long enough to replenish96 their larders97 and refill their casks. But when the completion of the Canal altered the trade routes of the world, the tedious Cape98 journey was abandoned, the South Atlantic was deserted99, and Saint Helena was ruined. By the genius of one of her sons, France had settled her score with that grim island, whose name still leaves a bitter taste in the mouths of Frenchmen.
He who would see the prison place of the great Emperor for himself must be rich in time and patience, for the vessels that earn their government subsidy100 by grudgingly101 dropping anchor for a few hours in Jamestown's open roadstead are only indifferently good and very far between. Scarcely larger than the island of Nantucket—or Staten Island, if that conveys more meaning; almost midway between the fever-haunted coasts of Angola and Brazil; sixteen days' steam from Southampton Water and seven from Table Bay; its rockbound coasts as precipitous and forbidding as the walls of the Grand Canyon102; and with a population less than that of many of New York's down-town office buildings, Saint Helena possesses one attraction, nevertheless, which more than repaid me for the long and arduous103 journey. That attraction is a mean and lonely cottage, set on a bleak104 and barren hill. To stand within [Pg 260] the walls of that wretched dwelling and to stare out across the wastes of ocean from that wind-swept hilltop, I travelled twenty thousand miles, for on that distant stage was played the last act of the mightiest105 tragedy of modern times.
Loitering up and down the seven seas, I have seen many islands, but none, that I can recall, that turns toward the seafarer a face at once so gloomy and so forbidding. It needs no vivid imagination, no knowledge of its history, to transform the perpendicular107 cliffs of Saint Helena into the grim walls of a sea-surrounded prison. It is a place so stern, so solemn, and so awesome108 that it makes you shiver in spite of yourself. As I leaned over the rail of a Castle steamer, with sunrise still an hour away and the Cross flaming overhead, and watched the island's threatening profile loom106 up out of the night, I shuddered109 in sympathy with that stern, cold man who came as a prisoner to these same shores close on a century ago.
From the view-points of safety and severity, the captors of the fallen Emperor could not have chosen better. For the safe-keeping of a man whose ambitions had decimated, bankrupted, and exhausted110 the people of a continent, it was imperative111 that a prison should be found whence escape or rescue would be out of the question by reason of its very isolation112 and remoteness. Twelve hundred miles from the nearest continental113 land, and that a savage114 and fever-infested wilderness115; with but a single harbour, and that so poor that landing there is perilous116 except in the very best of weather; its [Pg 261] great natural strength increased by impregnable forts; its towering rocks commanding a sea view of sixty miles in every direction, thus obviating118 the possibility of a surprise attack, Saint Helena admirably fulfilled the requirements for a prison demanded by a harassed119, weakened, and frightened Europe.
Though those travellers who take passage by the slow and infrequent “intermediate” steamers to the Cape are usually afforded an opportunity of setting foot on Saint Helena's soil, the brief stay which is made there permits of their doing little else. As the house occupied by Napoleon stands in the very heart of the island and on its highest point, and as the road which leads to it is so rough and precipitous that those who hire one of the few available vehicles generally walk most of the way out of pity for the horses, there is rarely time for the traveller who intends proceeding120 by the same boat to set eyes on the spot which gives the island its fame. I heard, indeed, of scores of travellers who had chosen the discomforts121 of this roundabout and tedious route for the express purpose of visiting the house where Napoleon died, and who found, on arriving at Saint Helena, that they would have time for nothing more than a hurried promenade122 in the town. Nor are any efforts made by the indolent islanders to induce travellers to stay over a steamer, for there are neither hotels nor boarding-houses, and a visitor would have to depend for his bed and board on the hospitality of some private family.
The South Atlantic, her bosom123 rising and falling [Pg 262] lazily under the languorous124 influence of the tropic morning, had exchanged her sombre night robe for a shimmering125, sparkling garment of sun-flecked blue before the sleepy-eyed quarantine officer had laboriously126 climbed the port ladder; and the yellow flag at our masthead, fluttering down, had signalled to the clamorous crews of negroes waiting eagerly alongside that they could take us ashore. In the pitiless light of the early morning the island looked even more forbidding than when the harshness of its features was veiled by night. Naked slope and ridge127 rose everywhere, and everywhere they were cut and cross-cut by equally bare valleys and ravines, but not a house, not a tree, not a sign of life, vegetable or animal, could we detect as we drew near. Even the sea-birds seemed afraid to alight on those grim cliffs, darting129 in on outspread wings as though to settle on them, only to wheel away with frightened, discordant130 cries, the while an everlasting131 surf hurled132 itself angrily against the smooth black rocks, voicing its impotence in a sullen133, booming roar.
Approaching the shore, we were amazed to see that what had appeared from the ship's deck to be a solid, perpendicular wall of rock was split in the middle, as though by a mighty135 chisel136, and in the cleft137 thus formed nestled Jamestown, the island's capital, flanked on either side by towering, fort-crowned cliffs which effectually conceal138 it from the sea. Landing at the same stone water-stairs where the captive Emperor had come ashore nearly a century before, we followed a stone-paved causeway, bordered on the land side by a deep [Pg 263] but empty moat, over a creaking drawbridge, through an ancient portcullised gateway139, and so into a spacious140 square, shaded by many patriarchal trees and dotted here and there with groups of antiquated141 cannon142. Bordering the square are the post-office, which does a thriving business in the sale of the rare surcharged stamps of the islands when the steamers come in; the custom-house, the law courts, the yellow church of Saint James, and the castle, a picturesque143 and straggling structure, begun by the first English governor in 1659, which is used by the governor for his “town” residence, though his “country” place is barely a mile away. The town itself is simply a mean and straggling street, lined on either side by whitewashed144, red-roofed, green-shuttered houses which become less and less pretentious145 and more and more scattered146 as you make your way up the ever narrowing valley until it loses itself in the hills. If there is a more dead-and-alive place than Jamestown I have yet to see it. A New Hampshire hamlet on a Sunday morning is positively147 boisterous148 in comparison. Once a month, however, when the British mail comes in, the town arouses itself long enough to go down to the post-office and get the letters and the papers—especially the illustrated149 weeklies—from that far-off place which every islander, even though he was born and raised on Saint Helena, refers to as “home.”
From the very edge of the village square the cliff known as Ladder Hill rises sheer, its great bulk throwing an ominous150 shadow over the little town. It takes its name from the Jacob's ladder whose seven hundred [Pg 264] wooden steps will bring you, panting and perspiring151, to the fort and the wireless152 station which occupy the top. I suppose there is no other such ladder in the world, it being, so I was proudly assured by the islanders, nine hundred and ninety-three feet long and six hundred and two feet high. Nor can I conceive of any other place wanting such an accommodation, for those who use it are constantly in danger of bursting their lungs going up or of breaking their necks coming down.
A biscuit's throw from the foot of the ladder, and facing the public gardens, stands the sedate153, old-fashioned house where Napoleon spent the first few nights after his arrival on the island. It is a prim154, two-story residence, the sombreness of its snuff-coloured plaster relieved by white stone trimmings and window-sills—just such a place, in fact, as the British colonists155 built by the hundreds in our own New England towns. By one of the most remarkable coincidences of which I have ever heard, Napoleon was given the same bedroom which had been occupied by the Duke of Wellington—then Sir Arthur Wellesley—on his homeward voyage from India only a few years before.
Leaving Jamestown in its gloomy, rock-walled ravine, we followed the incredibly rough high-road which bumps and jolts156 and twists and turns and climbs back and up onto the table-land which forms, as it were, the roof of the island. The deeper we penetrated157 into the interior the more luxuriant the vegetation became. The dry, barren, soilless, lichen-coated rocks of the coast [Pg 265] zone gave way to grassy158 valleys abloom with English gorse and broom and dotted with the bright green of willows159 and the dark green of firs, and these merged160, in turn, into a land of bamboos and bananas, of oranges and lemons and date-palms, where the vegetation was so luxuriant and tropical as to give it almost the appearance of a botanic garden. I know, indeed, of no other place in the world where one can pass through three distinct zones of vegetation in the course of an hour's drive, the first few miles into the interior of Saint Helena being, so far as the scenery is concerned, like a journey from the rocky, desolate161 shores of Labrador, through the pine forests and fertile farm-lands of New England and New York, and so southward into the essentially162 tropical vegetation of lower Florida.
The road wound on and on, uncovering new beauties at every turn. Cheerful, low-roofed bungalows163 peeped out at us from gardens ablaze164 with camelias, fuchsias, and roses; through the vistas165 formed by fig166, pear, and guava orchards167 we caught glimpses of prosperous-looking stone farm-houses whose thick walls and high gables showed that they dated from the Dutch occupation; passing above a tiny sylvan168 valley, our driver pointed169 out the rambling170 Balcombe place, where the Emperor lived for some weeks while Longwood was being prepared for his occupancy, and in the box-bordered gardens of which he made quiet love to his host's pretty daughter. In the same valley, not a pistol-shot away, are the whitewashed, broad-verandaed quarters of the Eastern Telegraph Company's force of [Pg 266] operators—tennis-courts, cricket-fields, and a swimming-pool set in a lawn of emerald velvet171 serving to make the enforced exile of these young Englishmen, who relay the news of the world between Europe and the Cape, a not unpleasant one.
Steeper and steeper became the road; scantier172 and less luxuriant the vegetation, until at last we emerged upon a barren, wind-swept table-land. A farm-yard gate barred our road, but at the impatient crack of the driver's whip a small brown maiden hastened from a near-by lodge173 to open it, curtseying to us prettily174 as we rattled through. Three minutes' drive across a desolate, gorse-covered moor175, and our driver pulled up sharply at a gate in a scraggy privet hedge surrounding just such a ramshackle, weather-beaten farm-house as you find by the hundreds scattered along the coast of Maine. “Longwood,” he remarked laconically176, pointing with his whip. Convinced that I could not have heard aright, I asked him over again, for, despite all the accounts I had read of the mean surroundings amid which the Emperor ended his days, I could not bring myself to believe that this miserable177 cottage, with its sunken roof and lichen-coated walls, could have sheltered for more than half a decade the conqueror178 of Europe, the master of the Tuileries and Fontainebleau and Versailles, the man whose troopers had stabled their horses in every capital of the Continent.
Longwood House is an old-fashioned, rambling cottage, only one story high, unless you count the quarters improvised179 for the members of the Emperor's [Pg 267] suite180 in the garret, which were lighted by means of small windows cut in the shingle181 roof. The house is built in the form of a T, the entrance, which is reached by four or five stone steps and a tiny latticed veranda, being represented by the bottom of the letter, while the dining-room, kitchens, and offices are represented by the top. Originally the dwelling of a peasant farmer, at the time Napoleon reached the island it was being used as a sort of shooting-box by the lieutenant182-governor, the present front of the house being hastily added to form a reception-room for the Emperor. In addition to this salle de réception, where you are asked to sign the visitor' book by the old French soldier who is the official guardian183 of the place, there is a drawing-room, a dining-room, the Emperor's study, his bedroom, bath, and dressing-room—all small, ill-lighted, damp, and cheerless. Practically the entire lower floor of the house was used by Napoleon, the members of his entourage—marshals, ministers, and courtiers, remember, who were accustomed to the life of the most brilliant court in Europe—being accommodated in tiny, unventilated cubby-holes directly under the eaves. With the exception of two or three small pier-glasses, the house is now quite destitute184 of furniture, though in other respects it is kept religiously as it was in Napoleon's time, even the faded blue wall-paper, sprinkled with golden stars, having been carefully preserved. On the walls of the various rooms are notices in French and English indicating the purposes to which they were put during the imperial occupancy. Between two windows [Pg 268] of the reception-room, where the Emperor's bed was removed from his bedroom a few days before his death because of the better light, stands a marble bust185 made from the cast taken immediately after his death, which, barring the one made by Canova during his life, is the only likeness186 of Napoleon admittedly correct. Without the house is the small and unkept garden in which the Emperor walked and sometimes worked, the arbour under which he spent so many hours, and the cement-lined fish-pond which he built with his own hands. Inside or out, there is not one suggestion of colour, of comfort, or of cheer: it is a prison-house and nothing more.
Near the bottom of the brown and windy hill on which Longwood stands is Geranium Valley, which contains the tomb, or rather the cenotaph, of the Emperor. It was by Napoleon's own wish that his body was buried in this exquisite187 spot, close beside the spring at which he so often used to drink and amid the wild geraniums of which he was so fond. The famous willow-tree still overshadows the little grave-space, which is enclosed by a high iron railing and a carefully trimmed hedge of box, while masses of flowers give brightness to a spot hallowed by many memories, for it was in this shady glen that the Emperor passed the most peaceful hours of his exile and it was here that he rested for twenty years until France brought him back in triumph to his final resting-place under the great gilt188 dome36 of Les Invalides.
Longwood House. “This miserable cottage, with its sunken roof and lichen-coated walls, sheltered for more than half a decade the conqueror of Europe.”
Looking northward189 across the Atlantic from Longwood. “To stare out across the wastes of ocean from that wind-swept hilltop I travelled twenty thousand miles.”
THE PRISON PLACE OF A GREAT EMPEROR.
Both Longwood and the grave occupy the peculiar position of being French territory in the heart of a [Pg 269] British colony, for half a century ago Queen Victoria presented the property to the French nation, an official appointed by the French Government residing on and caring for the place and showing it with mingled190 pride and sadness to the few visitors who make their way to this one of the world's far corners. It was an interesting but gloomy experience, that pilgrimage to the prison place of the great Emperor, for it visualised for me, as nothing else ever could do, the sordidness191, the humiliations, and the mental tortures which marked the last years of Napoleon. As my vessel steamed steadily192 northward across the Atlantic, with the boulevards of Paris not three weeks away, I leaned over the taffrail and, staring back at the receding193 cliffs of that grim island, I seemed to see the short, stoop-shouldered, gray-coated, cock-hatted figure of the Emperor staring wistfully out across those leagues of ocean toward France.
To locate the next of these “Forgotten Isles,” and the most completely forgotten of all of them, you had better get out the family atlas194 and, with a ruler and a pencil, do a little Morris-chair exploring. Draw a line due south from Cape Verde, which is the westernmost point of Africa, and another line due east from Cape San Roque, which is the easternmost point in South America, and where those two lines meet, out in the wastes of the South Atlantic, you will find a barren rock which resembles, as, indeed, it is, an extinct and partially195 submerged volcano. This rock, which is considerably196 smaller than its sister island of Saint Helena, [Pg 270] seven hundred miles away, is officially designated by the British Government as H.M.S. “Ascension.” Entirely197 under the control and jurisdiction198 of the Lords Commissioners199 of the Admiralty, it is unique in that it is the only island in the world which has the rating of a man-o'-war, being garrisoned201, or rather manned, by a detachment of sailors and marines, and being administered in every respect as though it were a unit of the British navy. With the exception of a dozen acres of vegetable garden, there is not a single green thing on the island—grass, shrub202, or tree. The island of Saint Pierre, of which I made mention earlier in this chapter, is bad enough, goodness knows, but it at least has a palm-tree. Ascension hasn't even that. How they get men to go there is altogether beyond my comprehension. If I had to take my choice between being sentenced to exile on Ascension (which Heaven forbid!) or confinement203 in Sing Sing, I rather think I should choose the prison. There are people on Ascension, nevertheless, the population, which consists of officers, seamen204, and marines, together with a handful of cable operators and a score of Kroo boys from Sierra Leone, numbering in all about one hundred and thirty. There were also four women—relatives of the officers—on the island when I was there. They had been there only six months, I was told, yet when our vessel arrived not one of them was on speaking terms with the others. Ascension, is, however, one of the most flourishing “match factories” in the British empire, it being safe to say that any unattached female, no matter what her disqualifications, can get a [Pg 271] husband in a week's stay on the island. A young Englishman and his bride boarded our boat at Ascension. She had been born and had spent all of her life on Saint Helena (which is not exactly a roaring metropolis205 itself), and had married one of the cable operators stationed at Ascension, who was taking her on her first visit to the outside world. She told me that the event of her life, her marriage excepted, had been going out to a vessel to see a motor-car which was being transported to Cape Town. Here was an educated and intelligent English girl who had come to womanhood without ever having seen a railway train, a street-car, a building over two stories high, or a crowd of more than five hundred people. When we reached Teneriffe, in the Canaries, which is about as somnolent206 a place as any I know, her husband took her ashore to see the sights with keen anticipation207. She rode on an electric car, she took tea in a four-story hotel, she attended a moving-picture show—and was brought back to the steamer suffering from violent hysterics. A week later we reached Southampton, where she was so completely prostrated208 by the roar and bustle209 of her first city that she had to go to bed under medical attention.
To those British officials and soldiers who are performing the manifold duties of empire along Africa's fever-stricken West Coast, the island of Ascension is a godsend, for an excellent sanatorium has been built by the government on its highest point, and to it come wasted, sunken-cheeked, fever-racked skeletons from all parts of that coast of death to build up their strength before [Pg 272] going back to their work again. Not only is Ascension a coaling, cable, and health station of considerable importance, but it is also the chief habitat of the sea-turtle, which comes there in thousands between January and May, to lay its eggs in the sand. After having seen the enormous size these creatures attain210, it is almost possible to believe some of those fantastic yarns211 about his trained turtles with which Baron212 de Rougemont set Europe gasping213 a few years back. During the year that I visited Ascension more than two hundred turtles were captured, ranging in weight from five hundred to eight hundred pounds apiece. Four of the monsters, each weighing close to half a ton, were put aboard our vessel, being sent by the officers of the garrison200 as a gift to his Majesty the King. They must have had turtle soup at Buckingham Palace for several days in succession after those turtles arrived.
It could not have been long after daybreak when a frousy-headed Greek steward214 awoke me with an intimation that we were off Canea. The evil-smelling mixture which was called coffee only by courtesy, and which was really chicory in disguise, held no attraction for me, for, through the port-holes of the dining-saloon I could see, rising from a sapphire216 sea, the green-clad, snow-capped mountains of Crete, the island of mythology217 and massacre218.
Our little steamer forged ahead at half-speed and the white town kept coming nearer and nearer, until we could distinguish the caiques in the harbour, and the [Pg 273] queer, narrow houses with their latticed harem windows which encircled it, and the white mosque219 with a palm-tree silhouetted220 against its slender minaret221, and even the crowd of ebony, tan, and coffee-coloured humanity that fought for posts of vantage at the water-stairs. It was a picture of sunshine and animation222, of vivid colours and strange peoples, such as one seldom sees except in some gorgeously staged comic opera, and as I surveyed it sleepily from the steamer's deck I had a momentary223 feeling that I was only an onlooker224 at a play and that the curtain would go down presently and I should have to go out into the drab, prosaic225, humdrum226 world again.
But even as this was in my mind a gun boomed out from a crumbling227 bastion and five little balls ran up five flagstaffs which I had already noticed standing all in a row on the uppermost ramparts and had mistaken, naturally enough, for some new form of Marconi apparatus228. The five little balls broke out into five flags and the morning breeze caught up their folds and held them straight out as though for our benefit, so that we could make them out quite plainly. Four of them were old friends that I had known on many seas—the union Jack229 and the Tricolour and the Saint Andrew's cross of Russia and the red-white-and-green banner of Italy—but the fifth flag, which flew somewhat higher than the others, was of unfamiliar230 design; but the blood-red square of bunting, traversed by the Greek cross and bearing in its upper corner the star of Bethlehem, told its own story and I knew it for the flag of Crete. And I knew that there was deep significance in the design [Pg 274] of that unknown flag and in the position of the four familiar ones that flew below it, for they signalled to the world that the Turk had been driven out, never to return; that Christianity had triumphed over Mohammedanism, and that the cross had, indeed, replaced the crescent; that the centuries of massacre were now but memories; that peace, in the guise215 of foreign soldiery, had, for a time at least, found an abiding-place in Crete; and, most significant of all, that the new flag with its single star would be upheld, if necessary, by the mightiest array of bayonets and battle-ships in Christendom.
The island of Crete, which is about the size of Porto Rico, not only occupies a very important strategical position, being nearly equidistant from the coasts of Europe, Asia, and Africa, commanding every line of communication in the eastern Mediterranean231, and being within easy striking distance of the Strait of Gibraltar, the Dardanelles, and the Canal, but it is also one of the richest agricultural regions in the world, or would be if the warring elements among its population would permit the rattle29 of the harvester to replace the rattle of the machine-gun. Ever since the Turks wrested232 the island from the Venetians, close on two and a half centuries ago, its history has been one of corruption233, cruelty, and massacre. Almost annually234, for more than seventy years, the island Christians235 rose in rebellion against their Turkish masters, and just as regularly the Turks suppressed those rebellions with a severity which turned the towns of the island into shambles236 and its fertile farm-lands into a deserted wilderness. The cruelty [Pg 275] which coupled the name of Turk with execration237 in Armenia and Macedonia assumed such atrocious forms in Crete that finally the great powers were aroused to action, and in 1898 the fleets of England, France, Italy, and Russia dropped anchor in Suda Bay, the Turkish officials were forcibly deported238, and a board of admirals assumed control of the affairs of the unhappy island. After a few months of martial239 government, during which the admirals squabbled continuously among themselves, the intervening powers proclaimed the island an autonomous240 state, subject to the Porte, but paying no tribute, and ruled by a high commissioner to be appointed by the King of the Hellenes. Though theoretically independent, it was provided that all questions concerning the foreign relations of Crete should be determined241 by the representatives of the powers, who would also maintain in the island, for a time at least, an international army of occupation. Recent events in the Balkans having resulted in bringing about an agitation242 in Crete for annexation243 to Greece, where a propaganda has long been vigorously carried on with that end in view, the protecting powers have definitely announced that the administration of the island will be continued by the “constituted authorities” (this should read “self-constituted”) until the question can be settled with the consent of Turkey. As things stand at present, the withdrawal244 of the international troops from Crete is about as distant as the withdrawal of the British garrisons245 from Egypt. To tell the truth, each of the protecting powers is exceedingly anxious to get the island for [Pg 276] itself—England because it forms an admirable half-way house between Gibraltar and the Canal; France because its occupation would carry French influence into the eastern end of the Mediterranean; Italy because it would serve as a connecting link between the peninsula and Tripolitania; and Russia because it would give her the command of the entrance to the Dardanelles—and hence, though they will certainly never restore it to Turkey, they are far from anxious to hand it over to Greece, to whom, after all, it belongs historically, geographically246, and ethnologically. As a result, the Cretan question will probably disturb the chancelleries of Europe for some years to come.
As I strained my eyes across the sparkling waters in vain search for signs of a hotel and breakfast, a boat flying the port-captain's flag and manned by gendarmes—splendid, muscular fellows with high boots and bare knees and baggy247 Turkish trousers, their keen brown faces peering out from under their fluttering cap-covers—came racing248 out from shore. As it came alongside the crew tossed oars249 with all the smartness of man-o'-war's-men; the white-clad officer in the stern, who was very stout250 and very stiffly starched251, climbed the stairs gingerly, as though fearful of injuring the faultless crease117 in his linen trousers, and, after the exchange of ceremonious bows and laboured compliments in French, informed me that the High Commissioner had placed the boat at my disposal. There is always something peculiarly satisfying to the soul about going ashore under official auspices252, not only because of the envious253 [Pg 277] glances of your fellow-passengers who line the rail, but because of the powerlessness of the customs officials to annoy you.
Canea, which is the seat of government, is the most picturesquely254 cosmopolitan255 place west of Suez. It has a mild and equable climate; living is cheap and reasonably good; there is a large garrison of foreign soldiery; there are no extradition256 treaties in force; and trouble of one kind or another is always brewing257. Like a magnet, therefore, Canea has attracted the scum and offscourings of all the Levant—needy258 soldiers of fortune, professional revolution-makers, smooth-spoken gamblers and confidence men, rouged259 and powdered women of easy virtue260 from east and west, Egyptian donkey-boys, out-at-elbows dragomans who speak a score of tongues and hail from goodness knows where—all that rabble261 of the needy, the adventurous262, and the desperate which follow the armies of occupation and are always to be found on the fringe of civilisation263.
The foreign troops are quartered for the most part on the massive Venetian ramparts which still surround the town, but all business centres along the narrow, stone-paved quay264 bordering the harbour, and in a straggling thoroughfare which, leaving the water-front through a fine old gate still bearing the carven lion of Saint Mark, serves as the vertebra for an amazing tangle265 of dim alleys128 and deafening266 bazaars267, in which all the products of the Levant are bought and sold amid indescribable confusion.
Canea is at its best at sunset, for it is not until [Pg 278] then that the town awakens268 to life. As the sun begins to sink behind the Aspra Vouna, the streets, hitherto deserted, become thronged270 as though by magic; the spaces before the cafés are packed with coffee-drinking, nargileh-smoking humanity of all shades and of all religions; the soldiers begin to appear in groups of twos and threes and fours; the clerks in the shipping-offices put on white drill jackets, and sit in chairs tipped back against their doors, and drink from tall, thin glasses with ice tinkling271 in them, and the muezzin, brazen-throated, appears on the balcony of his minaret, reminding one for all the world of a Swiss cuckoo-clock as he pops out to chant his interminable call to prayer: “Allahu il Allahu! Allahu Akbar! God is most great! Come to prayer! There is no God but Allah! He giveth life and dieth not! Your sins are great; greater is Allah's mercy! I extol272 his perfections! Allahu il Allahu! Allahu Akbar!”
It is such a scene as one marks with the white milestone273 of remembrance that he may go back to it in memory in after years. Picture, if you can, a stone-paved promenade bordering a U-shaped harbour. In the harbour are many craft—all small ones, for it is too shallow for the great steamers to enter. There are caiques with sails of orange, of scarlet274, and of yellow; schooners275, grain-laden, from Egypt and Turkey and Greece; fishing-boats with rakish lateen-sails and great goggle276 eyes painted at their bows to ward73 off the evil eye, and, so the sailors will tell you, to detect the fish. And along the quayside, where the human stream wanders [Pg 279] restlessly, there are Greeks in tufted shoes and snowy fustanellas that make them look like ballet-dancers; swarthy Turks in scarlet sashes and scarlet fezes, wearing the unsightly trousers peculiar to their race; bare-kneed Cretan highlanders, descendants in form and feature of the ancient Greeks, swaggering along with insolent277 grace in their braided, sleeveless jackets and high boots of yellow, untanned leather; Algerians in graceful278 flowing burnooses and Egyptians with tarbooshes and Arabs with turbans—now and then a mollah with scornful, intolerant eyes and the green turban which marks the wearer as a descendant of the Prophet—and brawny279, coal-black negroes from Tripoli, from Nubia, and from the Sudan.
And then there are the soldiers: British Tommies, smart even in khaki, boots shining, buckles280 shining, faces shining, swaggering along this Cretan street and flourishing their absurd little canes281 precisely282 as their fellows are doing all over the globe; French colonials, swathed in blue puttees from ankle to knee and in red cummerbunds from hip85 to chest, their misery283 completed by mushroom helmets so large that nothing can be seen of the wearer but his chin; chattering284 Italian bersaglieri, who strut285 about in cocks' feathers and crimson286 facings when at home in the Corso or the Toledo or the Via Vittorio Emmanuele, but out here must needs content their vanity with white linen uniforms and green hackle in their helmets; sad-faced Russians, uniformed as they would be in summer in Saint Petersburg or Moscow, flat white caps, belted white smocks, trousers [Pg 280] tucked in boots, their good-humoured, ignorant faces stamped with all the signs of homesickness, for their thoughts are far away in some squalid tenement287 in the poor quarter of Warsaw perhaps, or in a peasant's cabin beside the head-waters of the Volga.
Though Canea is the seat of government, Candia—or Heraklian, the classic name by which the Greeks prefer to call it—is the largest and most important town on the island. Disregarding the advice of friends, I went from Canea to Candia on a Greek coasting steamer. No one ever takes a first-class passage on a Greek boat, for the second and third class passengers invariably come aft and stay there, despite the commands and entreaties288 of the purser, so a third-class ticket answers quite as well as a first. Fortunately—or unfortunately, as you choose to regard it—I had as fellow voyagers a company of British infantry289, which was being transferred to Candia after three years' service in the western end of the island. The soldiers, who had managed to smuggle290 aboard a considerable quantity of rum, quickly got beyond the control of the boy lieutenant, just out of Sandhurst, who was in command, and who, appreciating that discretion291 is the better part of valour, especially where a hundred drunken soldiers are concerned, wisely left them to their own boisterous devices and retreated with me to the captain's quarters on the bridge, where we remained until we sighted Candia's harbour lights and our anchor rumbled down inside the breakwater.
Were it not for the massive Venetian walls which [Pg 281] surround it, Candia would have almost the appearance of an Indian town, the similarity being increased by its dark-faced, gaily292 dressed inhabitants and by the British soldiers who throng269 its streets. A single broad, stone-paved thoroughfare, lined in places with shade-trees and surprisingly clean, winds like a snake from the harbour up the hill, past rows of blackened ruins—grim reminders293 of the latest insurrection—past square after square of white-walled, red-tiled houses; through noisy bazaars where the turbaned shopkeepers squat40 patiently in their doorways294; past unkept marble fountains whose stained carvings295 would make many a museum director envious; past mosques296 with slender, graceful minarets297 and groups of filthy298 beggars grovelling299 on their steps for alms; past the ornate, twin-domed Greek cathedral, and so on to the ramparts where the British garrison is quartered in yellow barracks that overlook the sea.
But the real Crete is no more to be judged from glimpses of Canea and Candia than America could be judged by visiting New York and Chicago. It is in the picturesque mountain villages of the Sphakiote range that the genuine, untamed, unmixed fighting Cretan is to be found, for these dwellers300 on the slopes of Mount Ida, alone of all the scattered branches of the great Hellenic family, have preserved in form and feature the splendid physical characteristics of the ancient Greeks. With the Governor of Candia for my guide, the mountain village of Archanais as our destination, and with an escort of gendarmerie clattering301 at our heels, we set out from Candia one morning before the [Pg 282] sun was over the walls, for we had forty miles of hard riding between us and dinner, and roads in the Sphakiote country often consist of nothing more than dried-up water-courses. For the first few miles the road was crowded with peasantry bringing their produce to market—droves of donkeys, wine-skin-laden; long strings302 of the sturdy, shaggy native ponies303 tethered head to tail and tail to head, their panniers filled with purple figs304 or new-dug potatoes; sullen-eyed Turks driving rude native carts, their women-folk veiled to the eyes and hiding even them in the presence of the giaours; chattering Greeks with homespun rugs or bundles of the heavy native lace; now and then a prosperous farmer, striding along with a peculiar rolling walk, due to the round-soled boots affected305 by the islanders, carrying a measure of potatoes or perhaps a pair of fowls306 in the baggy seat of his enormous trousers. We passed a grass-grown Turkish cemetery307 where the gilded308 tombstones, capped by carven fezes or turbans in the case of men, and shells in that of women, blazed in the morning sunlight, while, a little farther on, we halted for a few moments before the tomb of a revered309 sheikh, almost hidden by the bits of cloth which the passing faithful had torn from their garments and tied to it.
Some half a dozen miles inland from Candia lie the ruins of Knossos, the one-time palace of King Minos, a powerful monarch310 of the Mycen?an age who is supposed to have ruled in Crete during that hazy311 era when mythology ended and history began. The audience chamber312 and the royal throne, which were old when the [Pg 283] Pyramids were built, are still in a perfect state of preservation313, though these amazing evidences of prehistoric314 grandeur315 are no more interesting than the marvellous network of cellars and subterranean316 passages which underlie317 the palace, many of them still lined, just as they were five thousand years ago, with row upon row of mammoth318 earthen jars for the storage of grain, of olives, and of wine in time of famine or siege. Many eminent319 arch?ologists, by the way, maintain that it was from this bewildering maze134 of corridors and passage-ways that the legend of the Minotaur and the labyrinth320, the scene of which was laid in Crete, arose. Were Crete as easy of access as Egypt, these ruins of Knossos would long since have taken rank with those which dot the banks of the Upper Nile.
Half a dozen hours of riding over an open, sun-baked country and later through gloomy pine woods and mountain defiles321, with an occasional halt at a wayside xenodocheion that the troopers of our escort might refresh themselves with that nauseous-tasting fermentation of rice known as arrack, which is the national drink of Greece, brought us at last, hot, saddle-worn, and weary, into the village square of Archanais. The demarch of the town, with a dozen or so of the insurrectionist chieftains from the surrounding mountains, awaited our coming beneath a hoary322 plane-tree that shaded half the village square. Seats were placed for us beneath its grateful shade, and, with the ceremony of which the Greeks are so fond, we were served with small cups of Turkish coffee and with the inevitable323 [Pg 284] loukoum, which is a candy resembling “Turkish delight.” This formal welcome, which no Cretan ever neglects, completed, we were escorted to the house of the demarch, with whom we were to dine. It was a long, low-roofed, homelike dwelling, red tiles above and white plaster beneath, and surrounding it a garden ablaze with flowers. Met at the door by a servant with a pitcher324 of chased brass325, we proceeded to wash in the open air, the domestic pouring the water over our hands in a steady stream, according to the Cretan fashion.
The dinner was beyond description. From a Cretan standpoint it was doubtless a feast for the gods. I, being ravenous326 with hunger, asked not the names of the strange dishes, but enjoyed everything that was set before me as only a hungry man can. The meal began with ripe olives and spiced meat chopped up with wheat grains and wrapped in mulberry leaves; it passed on through a course that resembled fried egg-plant but wasn't; through duck, stuffed with rice and olives and cooked in oil, and a pudding that tasted as though it had been flavoured with eau de cologne, concluding with small native melons, which I have never seen equalled for flavour except in Turkestan, and, of course, coffee and cigarettes. The meal lasted something over three hours, and then, sitting cross-legged on the divan327 which ran entirely around the room, the whole party dropped one by one to sleep. The one recollection of Archanais which will always remain with me is that of a roomful of swarthy-faced, black-moustached, baggy-trousered, armed-to-the-teeth, overfed men, notorious revolutionists [Pg 285] every one, all sound asleep and all snoring like steam-engines.
That night we rode down the mountains in the moonlight, the snow-capped peaks looming328 luridly329 against the purple sky. The moonbeams lighted up the ruined farmsteads which we passed and played fitfully among the gnarled branches of the ancient olive-trees, giving to the silent land an aspect of unutterable peace. The whole world seemed sleeping and the hoofs330 of our horses rang loudly against the stones. The road which had been white with dust in the morning was a ribbon of silver now; the stately palm-trees stirred ever so gently in the night breeze; the ruins of ancient Knossos grew larger in the moonlight until all its ancient glory seemed restored; the crosses on the Greek cathedral and the crescents on the slender minarets seemed to raise themselves in harmony like fingers pointing toward heaven; the great guns that frowned from the ramparts were hidden in the shadows—all was silence, beauty, infinite peace, until, as we walked our tired horses slowly across the creaking drawbridge into the city, a helmeted figure stepped from the shadow of the walls, a rifle flashed in the moonlight, and a harsh voice challenged:
“Halt! Who goes there?”
The End
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
inquiries
|
|
| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
missionaries
|
|
| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
cannibalism
|
|
| n.同类相食；吃人肉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
cargo
|
|
| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
royalties
|
|
| 特许权使用费 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
turquoise
|
|
| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
ripple
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
strand
|
|
| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
leisurely
|
|
| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
dwindles
|
|
| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
delectable
|
|
| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
isles
|
|
| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
vessel
|
|
| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
vessels
|
|
| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
specks
|
|
| n.眼镜；斑点，微粒，污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
inaccessibility
|
|
| n. 难接近, 难达到, 难达成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
rumbled
|
|
| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
rim
|
|
| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
ashore
|
|
| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
promptly
|
|
| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
adviser
|
|
| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
bungalow
|
|
| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
hustled
|
|
| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
diminutive
|
|
| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
rattle
|
|
| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
rattled
|
|
| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
cane
|
|
| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
ransacked
|
|
| v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
Oxford
|
|
| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
enervating
|
|
| v.使衰弱，使失去活力( enervate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
perspiration
|
|
| n.汗水；出汗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
dome
|
|
| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
veranda
|
|
| n.走廊；阳台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
verandas
|
|
| 阳台，走廊( veranda的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
smothered
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
squat
|
|
| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
squats
|
|
| n.蹲坐，蹲姿( squat的名词复数 )；被擅自占用的建筑物v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的第三人称单数 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
stifling
|
|
| a.令人窒息的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
contrives
|
|
| （不顾困难地）促成某事( contrive的第三人称单数 )； 巧妙地策划，精巧地制造（如机器）； 设法做到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
inviting
|
|
| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
marvels
|
|
| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
transformation
|
|
| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
ERECTED
|
|
| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
copper
|
|
| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
porous
|
|
| adj.可渗透的，多孔的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
earthenware
|
|
| n.土器，陶器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
tepid
|
|
| adj.微温的，温热的，不太热心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
deposed
|
|
| v.罢免( depose的过去式和过去分词 )；（在法庭上）宣誓作证 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
dominions
|
|
| 统治权( dominion的名词复数 )； 领土； 疆土； 版图 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
skulls
|
|
| 颅骨( skull的名词复数 )； 脑袋； 脑子； 脑瓜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
picket
|
|
| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
slaughtered
|
|
| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
commissioner
|
|
| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
annexed
|
|
| [法] 附加的，附属的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
outskirts
|
|
| n.郊外，郊区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
pajamas
|
|
| n.睡衣裤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
majesty
|
|
| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
dwelling
|
|
| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
constable
|
|
| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
scanty
|
|
| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
memorable
|
|
| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
hovered
|
|
| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
reeked
|
|
| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的过去式和过去分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
ward
|
|
| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
shuffled
|
|
| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
rivulets
|
|
| n.小河，小溪( rivulet的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
literally
|
|
| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
marital
|
|
| adj.婚姻的，夫妻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
confided
|
|
| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
plausibly
|
|
| 似真地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
incompatible
|
|
| adj.不相容的，不协调的，不相配的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
maiden
|
|
| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
spouse
|
|
| n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
remonstrated
|
|
| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
hip
|
|
| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
quaint
|
|
| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
scotch
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
shack
|
|
| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
clamorous
|
|
| adj.吵闹的，喧哗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
slovenly
|
|
| adj.懒散的，不整齐的，邋遢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
teeming
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
contented
|
|
| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
thereby
|
|
| adv.因此，从而 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
replenish
|
|
| vt.补充；(把…)装满；(再)填满 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
larders
|
|
| n.（家中的）食物贮藏室，食物橱( larder的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
98
cape
|
|
| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
subsidy
|
|
| n.补助金，津贴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
grudgingly
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
canyon
|
|
| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
arduous
|
|
| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
bleak
|
|
| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
mightiest
|
|
| adj.趾高气扬( mighty的最高级 )；巨大的；强有力的；浩瀚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
loom
|
|
| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
perpendicular
|
|
| adj.垂直的，直立的；n.垂直线，垂直的位置 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
awesome
|
|
| adj.令人惊叹的，难得吓人的，很好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
shuddered
|
|
| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
imperative
|
|
| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
isolation
|
|
| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
continental
|
|
| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
perilous
|
|
| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
crease
|
|
| n.折缝，褶痕，皱褶；v.(使)起皱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
obviating
|
|
| v.避免，消除（贫困、不方便等）( obviate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
harassed
|
|
| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
discomforts
|
|
| n.不舒适( discomfort的名词复数 )；不愉快，苦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
promenade
|
|
| n./v.散步 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
languorous
|
|
| adj.怠惰的，没精打采的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
shimmering
|
|
| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
laboriously
|
|
| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
ridge
|
|
| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
alleys
|
|
| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
darting
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
discordant
|
|
| adj.不调和的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
everlasting
|
|
| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
hurled
|
|
| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
sullen
|
|
| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
maze
|
|
| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
chisel
|
|
| n.凿子；v.用凿子刻，雕，凿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
cleft
|
|
| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
gateway
|
|
| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
spacious
|
|
| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
antiquated
|
|
| adj.陈旧的，过时的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
cannon
|
|
| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
picturesque
|
|
| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
whitewashed
|
|
| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
pretentious
|
|
| adj.自命不凡的，自负的，炫耀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
boisterous
|
|
| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
illustrated
|
|
| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
ominous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
perspiring
|
|
| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
wireless
|
|
| adj.无线的；n.无线电 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
sedate
|
|
| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
prim
|
|
| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
colonists
|
|
| n.殖民地开拓者，移民，殖民地居民( colonist的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
jolts
|
|
| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
penetrated
|
|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
grassy
|
|
| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
willows
|
|
| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
merged
|
|
| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
desolate
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
essentially
|
|
| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
bungalows
|
|
| n.平房( bungalow的名词复数 )；单层小屋，多于一层的小屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
ablaze
|
|
| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
vistas
|
|
| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
fig
|
|
| n.无花果(树) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
orchards
|
|
| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
sylvan
|
|
| adj.森林的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
rambling
|
|
| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
scantier
|
|
| adj.（大小或数量）不足的，勉强够的( scanty的比较级 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
lodge
|
|
| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
prettily
|
|
| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
moor
|
|
| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
laconically
|
|
| adv.简短地，简洁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
conqueror
|
|
| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
improvised
|
|
| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
suite
|
|
| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
shingle
|
|
| n.木瓦板；小招牌(尤指医生或律师挂的营业招牌)；v.用木瓦板盖（屋顶）；把（女子头发）剪短 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
lieutenant
|
|
| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
guardian
|
|
| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
destitute
|
|
| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
bust
|
|
| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
likeness
|
|
| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
gilt
|
|
| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
northward
|
|
| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
sordidness
|
|
| n.肮脏；污秽；卑鄙；可耻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
192
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
receding
|
|
| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
atlas
|
|
| n.地图册，图表集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
partially
|
|
| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
considerably
|
|
| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
jurisdiction
|
|
| n.司法权，审判权，管辖权，控制权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
commissioners
|
|
| n.专员( commissioner的名词复数 )；长官；委员；政府部门的长官 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
200
garrison
|
|
| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
201
garrisoned
|
|
| 卫戍部队守备( garrison的过去式和过去分词 )； 派部队驻防 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
202
shrub
|
|
| n.灌木，灌木丛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
203
confinement
|
|
| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
204
seamen
|
|
| n.海员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
205
metropolis
|
|
| n.首府；大城市 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
206
somnolent
|
|
| adj.想睡的，催眠的；adv.瞌睡地；昏昏欲睡地；使人瞌睡地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
207
anticipation
|
|
| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
208
prostrated
|
|
| v.使俯伏，使拜倒( prostrate的过去式和过去分词 )；（指疾病、天气等）使某人无能为力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
209
bustle
|
|
| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
210
attain
|
|
| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
211
yarns
|
|
| n.纱( yarn的名词复数 )；纱线；奇闻漫谈；旅行轶事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
212
baron
|
|
| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
213
gasping
|
|
| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
214
steward
|
|
| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
215
guise
|
|
| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
216
sapphire
|
|
| n.青玉，蓝宝石；adj.天蓝色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
217
mythology
|
|
| n.神话，神话学，神话集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
218
massacre
|
|
| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
219
mosque
|
|
| n.清真寺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
220
silhouetted
|
|
| 显出轮廓的，显示影像的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
221
minaret
|
|
| n.（回教寺院的）尖塔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
222
animation
|
|
| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
223
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
224
onlooker
|
|
| n.旁观者，观众 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
225
prosaic
|
|
| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
226
humdrum
|
|
| adj.单调的，乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
227
crumbling
|
|
| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
228
apparatus
|
|
| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
229
jack
|
|
| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
230
unfamiliar
|
|
| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
231
Mediterranean
|
|
| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
232
wrested
|
|
| （用力）拧( wrest的过去式和过去分词 )； 费力取得； （从…）攫取； （ 从… ） 强行取去… | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
233
corruption
|
|
| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
234
annually
|
|
| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
235
Christians
|
|
| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
236
shambles
|
|
| n.混乱之处；废墟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
237
execration
|
|
| n.诅咒，念咒，憎恶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
238
deported
|
|
| v.将…驱逐出境( deport的过去式和过去分词 )；举止 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
239
martial
|
|
| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
240
autonomous
|
|
| adj.自治的；独立的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
241
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
242
agitation
|
|
| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
243
annexation
|
|
| n.吞并，合并 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
244
withdrawal
|
|
| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
245
garrisons
|
|
| 守备部队，卫戍部队( garrison的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
246
geographically
|
|
| adv.地理学上，在地理上，地理方面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
247
baggy
|
|
| adj.膨胀如袋的，宽松下垂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
248
racing
|
|
| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
249
oars
|
|
| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
251
starched
|
|
| adj.浆硬的，硬挺的，拘泥刻板的v.把（衣服、床单等）浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
252
auspices
|
|
| n.资助，赞助 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
253
envious
|
|
| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
254
picturesquely
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
255
cosmopolitan
|
|
| adj.世界性的，全世界的，四海为家的，全球的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
256
extradition
|
|
| n.引渡（逃犯） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
257
brewing
|
|
| n. 酿造, 一次酿造的量 动词brew的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
258
needy
|
|
| adj.贫穷的，贫困的，生活艰苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
259
rouged
|
|
| 胭脂，口红( rouge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
260
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
261
rabble
|
|
| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
262
adventurous
|
|
| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
263
civilisation
|
|
| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
264
quay
|
|
| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
265
tangle
|
|
| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
266
deafening
|
|
| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
267
bazaars
|
|
| （东方国家的）市场( bazaar的名词复数 )； 义卖； 义卖市场； （出售花哨商品等的）小商品市场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
268
awakens
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的第三人称单数 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
269
throng
|
|
| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
270
thronged
|
|
| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
271
tinkling
|
|
| n.丁当作响声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
272
extol
|
|
| v.赞美，颂扬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
273
milestone
|
|
| n.里程碑；划时代的事件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
274
scarlet
|
|
| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
275
schooners
|
|
| n.（有两个以上桅杆的）纵帆船( schooner的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
276
goggle
|
|
| n.瞪眼，转动眼珠，护目镜；v.瞪眼看，转眼珠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
277
insolent
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
278
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
279
brawny
|
|
| adj.强壮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
280
buckles
|
|
| 搭扣，扣环( buckle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
281
canes
|
|
| n.（某些植物，如竹或甘蔗的）茎( cane的名词复数 )；（用于制作家具等的）竹竿；竹杖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
282
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
283
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
284
chattering
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
285
strut
|
|
| v.肿胀，鼓起；大摇大摆地走；炫耀；支撑；撑开；n.高视阔步；支柱，撑杆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
286
crimson
|
|
| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
287
tenement
|
|
| n.公寓；房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
288
entreaties
|
|
| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
289
infantry
|
|
| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
290
smuggle
|
|
| vt.私运；vi.走私 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
291
discretion
|
|
| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
292
gaily
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
293
reminders
|
|
| n.令人回忆起…的东西( reminder的名词复数 )；提醒…的东西；（告知该做某事的）通知单；提示信 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
294
doorways
|
|
| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
295
carvings
|
|
| n.雕刻( carving的名词复数 )；雕刻术；雕刻品；雕刻物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
296
mosques
|
|
| 清真寺； 伊斯兰教寺院，清真寺； 清真寺，伊斯兰教寺院( mosque的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
297
minarets
|
|
| n.（清真寺旁由报告祈祷时刻的人使用的）光塔( minaret的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
298
filthy
|
|
| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
299
grovelling
|
|
| adj.卑下的，奴颜婢膝的v.卑躬屈节，奴颜婢膝( grovel的现在分词 )；趴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
300
dwellers
|
|
| n.居民，居住者( dweller的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
301
clattering
|
|
| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
302
strings
|
|
| n.弦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
303
ponies
|
|
| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
304
figs
|
|
| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
305
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
306
fowls
|
|
| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
307
cemetery
|
|
| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
308
gilded
|
|
| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
309
revered
|
|
| v.崇敬，尊崇，敬畏( revere的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
310
monarch
|
|
| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
311
hazy
|
|
| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
312
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
313
preservation
|
|
| n.保护，维护，保存，保留，保持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
314
prehistoric
|
|
| adj.（有记载的）历史以前的，史前的，古老的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
315
grandeur
|
|
| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
316
subterranean
|
|
| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
317
underlie
|
|
| v.位于...之下，成为...的基础 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
318
mammoth
|
|
| n.长毛象；adj.长毛象似的，巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
319
eminent
|
|
| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
320
labyrinth
|
|
| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
321
defiles
|
|
| v.玷污( defile的第三人称单数 )；污染；弄脏；纵列行进 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
322
hoary
|
|
| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
323
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
324
pitcher
|
|
| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
325
brass
|
|
| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
326
ravenous
|
|
| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
327
divan
|
|
| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
328
looming
|
|
| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
329
luridly
|
|
| adv. 青灰色的(苍白的, 深浓色的, 火焰等火红的) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
330
hoofs
|
|
| 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 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |