A mile or more below the gorge1 I took to the stream and waded2. It was slippery, dangerous work, for the current tore about my legs and threatened to upset me. After a little I crossed to the left bank. Here the slope of the canyon3 was thick with grass that hid my tracks. It was a long climb up to the level. Upon reaching it I dropped, exhausted4.
“I've—given them—the slip,” I panted, exultantly5.... “But—now what?”
It struck me that now I was free, I had only jumped out of the frying-pan into the fire. Hurriedly I examined my Winchester. The magazine contained ten cartridges6. What luck that Stockton had neglected to unload it! This made things look better. I had salt and pepper, a knife, and matches—thanks to the little leather case—and so I could live in the woods.
It was too late for regrets. I might have freed Dick somehow or even held the men at bay, but I had thought only of escape. The lack of nerve and judgment8 stung me. Then I was bitter over losing my mustang and outfit9.
But on thinking it all over, I concluded that I ought to be thankful for things as they were. I was free, with a whole skin. That climb out of the gorge had been no small risk. How those bullets had whistled and hissed10!
“I'm pretty lucky,” I muttered. “Now to get good and clear of this vicinity. They'll ride down the trail after me. Better go over this ridge7 into the next canyon and strike down that. I must go down. But how far? What must I strike for?”
I took a long look at the canyon. In places the stream showed, also the trail; then there were open patches, but I saw no horses or men. With a grim certainty that I should be lost in a very little while, I turned into the cool, dark forest.
Every stone and log, every bit of hard ground in my path, served to help hide my trail. Herky-Jerky very likely had the cowboy's skill at finding tracks, but I left few traces of my presence on that long slope. Only an Indian or a hound could have trailed me. The timber was small and rough brush grew everywhere. Presently I saw light ahead, and I came to an open space. It was a wide swath in the forest. At once I recognized the path of an avalanche11. It sloped up clean and bare to the gray cliffs far above. Below was a great mass of trees and rocks, all tangled12 in black splintered ruin. I pushed on across the path, into the forest, and up and down the hollows. The sun had gone down behind the mountain, and the shadows were gathering13 when I came to another large canyon. It looked so much like the first that I feared I had been travelling in a circle. But this one seemed wider, deeper, and there was no roar of rushing water.
It was time to think of making camp, and so I hurried down the slope. At the bottom I found a small brook14 winding15 among boulders16 and ledges17 of rock. The far side of this canyon was steep and craggy. Soon I discovered a place where I thought it would be safe to build a fire. My clothes were wet, and the air had grown keen and cold. Gathering a store of wood, I made my fire in a niche18. For a bed I cut some sweet-scented pine boughs19 (I thought they must be from a balsam-tree), and these I laid close up in a rocky corner. Thus I had the fire between me and the opening, and with plenty of wood to burn I did not fear visits from bears or lions. At last I lay down, dry and warm indeed, but very tired and hungry.
Darkness closed in upon me. I saw a few stars, heard the cheery crackle of my fire, and then I fell asleep. Twice in the night I awakened20 cold, but by putting on more firewood I was soon comfortable again.
When I awoke the sun was shining brightly into my rocky bedchamber. The fire had died out completely, there was frost on the stones. To build up another fire and to bathe my face in the ice-water of the brook were my first tasks. The air was sweet; it seemed to freeze as I breathed, and was a bracing21 tonic22. I was tingling23 all over, and as hungry as a starved wolf.
I set forth24 on a hunt for game. Even if the sound of a shot betrayed my whereabouts I should have to abide25 by it, for I had to eat. Stepping softly along, I glanced about me with sharp eyes. Deer trails were thick. The bottom of this canyon was very wide, and grew wider as I proceeded. Then the pines once more became large and thrifty26. I judged I had come down the mountain, perhaps a couple of thousand feet below the camp in the gorge. I flushed many of the big blue grouse27, and I saw numerous coyotes, a fox, and a large brown beast which moved swiftly into a thicket28. It was enough to make my heart rise in my throat. To dream of hunting bears was something vastly different from meeting one in a lonely canyon.
Just after this I saw a herd29 of deer. They were a good way off. I began to slip from tree to tree, and drew closer. Presently I came to a little hollow with a thick, short patch of underbrush growing on the opposite side. Something crashed in the thicket. Then two beautiful deer ran out. One bounded leisurely30 up the slope; the other, with long ears erect31, stopped to look at me. It was no more than fifty yards away. Trembling with eagerness, I leveled my rifle. I could not get the sight to stay steady on the deer. Even then, with the rifle wobbling in my intense excitement, I thought of how beautiful that wild creature was. Straining every nerve, I drew the sight till it was in line with the gray shape, then fired. The deer leaped down the slope, staggered, and crumpled32 down in a heap.
I tore through the bushes, and had almost reached the bottom of the hollow when I remembered that a wounded deer was dangerous. So I halted. The gray form was as still as stone. I ventured closer. The deer was dead. My bullet had entered high above the shoulder at the juncture33 of the neck. Though I had only aimed at him generally, I took a good deal of pride in my first shot at a deer.
Fortunately my pen-knife had a fair-sized blade. With it I decided34 to cut out part of the deer and carry it back to my camp. Then it occurred to me that I might as well camp where I was. There were several jumbles36 of rock and a cliff within a stone's-throw of where I stood. Besides, I must get used to making camp wherever I happened to be. Accordingly, I took hold of the deer, and dragged him down the hollow till I came to a leaning slab38 of rock.
Skinning a deer was, of course, new to me. I haggled39 the flesh somewhat and cut through the skin often, my knife-blade being much too small for such work. Finally I thought it would be enough for me to cut out the haunches, and then I got down to one haunch. It had bothered me how I was going to sever35 the joint40, but to my great surprise I found there did not seem to be any connection between the bones. The haunch came out easily, and I hung it up on a branch while making a fire.
Herky-Jerky's method of broiling41 a piece of venison at the end of a stick solved the problem of cooking. Then it was that the little flat flask42, full of mixed salt and pepper, rewarded me for the long carrying of it. I was hungry, and I feasted.
By this time the sun shone warm, and the canyon was delightful43. I roamed around, sat on sunny stones, and lay in the shade of pines. Deer browsed44 in the glades46. When they winded or saw me they would stand erect, shoot up their long cars, and then leisurely lope away. Coyotes trotted47 out of thickets48 and watched me suspiciously. I could have shot several, but deemed it wise to be saving of my ammunition49. Once I heard a low drumming. I could not imagine what made it. Then a big blue grouse strutted50 out of a patch of bushes. He spread his wings and tail and neck feathers, after the fashion of a turkey-gobbler. It was a flap or shake of his wings that produced the drumming. I wondered if he intended, by his actions, to frighten me away from his mate's nest. So I went toward him, and got very close before he flew. I caught sight of his mate in the bushes, and, as I had supposed, she was on a nest. Though wanting to see her eggs or young ones, I resisted the temptation, for I was afraid if I went nearer she might abandon her nest, as some mother birds do.
It did not seem to me that I was lost, yet lost I was. The peaks were not in sight. The canyon widened down the slope, and I was pretty sure that it opened out flat into the great pine forest of Penetier. The only thing that bothered me was the loss of my mustang and outfit; I could not reconcile myself to that. So I wandered about with a strange, full sense of freedom such as I had never before known. What was to be the end of my adventure I could not guess, and I wasted no time worrying over it.
The knowledge I had of forestry51 I tried to apply. I studied the north and south slopes of the canyon, observing how the trees prospered52 on the sunny side. Certain saplings of a species unknown to me had been gnawed53 fully55 ten feet from the ground. This puzzled me. Squirrels could not have done it, nor rabbits, nor birds. Presently I hit upon the solution. The bark and boughs of this particular sapling were food for deer, and to gnaw54 so high the deer must have stood upon six or seven feet of snow.
I dug into the soft duff under the pines. This covering of the roots was very thick and deep. I made it out to be composed of pine-needles, leaves, and earth. It was like a sponge. No wonder such covering held the water! I pried56 bark off dead trees and dug into decayed logs to find the insect enemies of the trees. The open places, where little colonies of pine sprouts57 grew, seemed generally to be down-slope from the parent trees. It was easy to tell the places where the wind had blown the seeds.
The hours sped by. The shadows of the pines lengthened58, the sun set, and the shade deepened in the hollows. Returning to my camp, I cooked my supper and made my bed. When I had laid up a store of firewood it was nearly dark.
With night came the coyotes. The carcass of the deer attracted them, and they approached from all directions. At first it was fascinating to hear one howl far off in the forest, and then to notice the difference in the sound as he came nearer and nearer. The way they barked and snapped out there in the darkness was as wild a thing to hear as any boy could have wished for. It began to be a little too much for me. I kept up a bright fire, and, though not exactly afraid, I had a perch59 picked out in the nearest tree. Suddenly the coyotes became silent. Then a low, continuous growling60, a snapping of twigs61, and the unmistakable drag of a heavy body over the ground made my hair stand on end. Gripping my rifle, I listened. I heard the crunch62 of teeth on bones, then more sounds of something being dragged down the hollow. The coyotes began to bark again, but now far back in the forest.
Some beast had frightened them. What was it? I did not know whether a bear would eat deer flesh, but I thought not. Perhaps timber-wolves had disturbed the coyotes. But would they run from wolves? It came to me suddenly—a mountain-lion!
I hugged my fire, and sat there, listening with all my ears, imagining every rustle63 of leaf to be the step of a lion. It was long before the thrills and shivers stopped chasing over me, longer before I could decide to lie down. But after a while the dead quiet of the forest persuaded me that the night was far advanced, and I fell asleep.
The first thing in the morning I took my rifle and went out to where I had left the carcass of the deer. It was gone. It had been dragged away. A dark path on the pine-needles and grass, and small bushes pressed to the ground, plainly marked the trail. But search as I might, I could not find the track of the animal that had dragged off the deer. After following the trail for a few rods, I decided to return to camp and cook breakfast before going any farther. While I was at it I cut many thin slices of venison, and, after roasting them, I stored them away in the capacious pocket of my coat.
My breakfast finished, I again set out to see what had become of the remains64 of the deer. In two or three places the sharp hoofs65 had cut lines in the soft earth, and there were tufts of whitish-gray hair elsewhere. A hundred yards or more down the hollow I came to a bare spot where recently there had been a pool of water. Here I found cat tracks as large as my two hands. I had never seen the track of a mountain-lion, but, all the same, I knew that this was the real thing. What an enormous brute66 he must have been! I cast fearful glances into the surrounding thickets.
It was not needful to travel much farther. Under a bush well hidden in a clump67 of trees lay what now remained of my deer. A patch of gray hair, a few long bones, a split skull68, and two long ears—no more! Even the hide was gone. Perhaps the coyotes had finished the job after the lion had gorged69 himself, but I did not think so. It seemed to me that coyotes would have scattered70 the remains. Those two long ears somehow seemed pathetic. I wished for a second that the lion were in range of my rifle.
The lion was driven from my mind when I saw a troop of deer cross a glade45 below me. I had to fight myself to keep from shooting. The wind blew rather strong in my face, which probably accounted for the deer not winding me.
Then the whip-like crack of a rifle riveted71 me where I stood. One of the deer fell, and the others bounded away. I saw a tall man stride down the slope and into the glade. He was not like any of the loggers or lumbermen. They were mostly brawny72 and round-shouldered. This man was lithe73, erect; he walked like athletes I had seen. Surely I should find a friend in him, and I lost no time in running down into the glade. He saw me as soon as I was clear of the trees, and stood leaning on his rifle.
“Wal, dog-gone my buttons!” he ejaculated. “Who're you?”
I blurted74 out all about myself, at the same time taking stock of him. He was not young, but I had never seen a young man so splendid. Hair, beard, and skin were all of a dark gray. His eyes, too, were gray—the keenest and clearest I had ever looked into. They shone with a kindly75 light, otherwise I might have thought his face hard and stern. His shoulders were very wide, his arms long, his hands enormous. His buckskin shirt attracted my attention to his other clothes, which looked like leather overalls76 or heavy canvas. A belt carried a huge knife and a number of shells of large caliber77; the Winchester he had was exceedingly long and heavy, and of an old pattern. The look of him brought back my old fancy of Wetzel or Kit78 Carson.
“So I'm lost,” I concluded, “and don't know what to do. I daren't try to find the sawmill. I won't go back to Holston just yet.”
“An' why not, youngster? 'Pears to me you'd better make tracks from Penetier.”
I told him why, at which he laughed.
“Wal, I reckon you can stay with me fer a spell. My camp's in the head of this canyon.”
“Oh, thank you, that'll be fine!” I exclaimed. My great good luck filled me with joy. “Do you stay on the mountain?”
“Be'n here goin' on eighteen years, youngster. Mebbe you've heerd my name. Hiram Bent79.”
“Are you a hunter?”
“Wal, I reckon so, though I'm more a trapper. Here, you pack my gun.”
With that he drew his knife and set to work on the deer. It was wonderful to see his skill. In a few cuts and strokes, a ripping of the hide and a powerful slash80, he had cut out a haunch. It took even less work for the second. Then he hung the rest of the deer on a snag, and wiped his knife and hands on the grass.
“Come on, youngster,” he said, starting up the canyon.
I showed him where the carcass of my deer had been devoured81.
“Cougar82. Thar's a big feller has the run of this canyon.”
“Cougar? I thought it was a mountain-lion.”
“Cougar, painter, panther, lion—all the same critter. An' if you leave him alone he'll not bother you, but he's bad in a corner.”
“He scared away the coyotes.”
“Youngster, even a silver-tip—thet's a grizzly83 bear—will make tracks away from a cougar. I lent my pack of hounds to a pard over near Springer. If I had them we'd put thet cougar up a tree in no time.”
“Are there many lions—cougars here?”
“Only a few. Thet's why there's plenty of deer. Other game is plentiful84, too. Foxes, wolves, an', up in the mountains, bears are thick.”
“Then I may get to see one—get a shot at one?”
“Wal, I reckon.”
From that time I trod on air. I found myself wishing for my brother Hal. I became reconciled to the loss of mustang and outfit. For a moment I almost forgot Dick and Buell. Forestry seemed less important than hunting. I had read a thousand books about old hunters and trappers, and here I was in a wild mountain canyon with a hunter who might have stepped out of one of my dreams. So I trudged85 along beside him, asking a question now and then, and listening always. He certainly knew what would interest me. There was scarcely a thing he said that I would ever forget. After a while, however, the trail became so steep and rough that I, at least, had no breath to spare for talking. We climbed and climbed. The canyon had become a narrow, rocky cleft86. Huge stones blocked the way. A ragged37 growth of underbrush fringed the stream. Dead pines, with branches like spears, lay along the trail.
We came upon a little clearing, where there was a rude log-cabin with a stone chimney. Skins of animals were tacked87 upon logs. Under the bank was a spring. The mountain overshadowed this wild nook.
“Wal, youngster, here's my shack88. Make yourself to home,” said Hiram Bent.
I was all eyes as we entered the cabin. Skins, large and small, and of many colors, hung upon the walls. A fire burned in a wide stone grate. A rough table and some pans and cooking utensils89 showed evidence of recent scouring90. A bunch of steel traps lay in a corner. Upon a shelf were tin cans and cloth bags, and against the wall stood a bed of glossy91 bearskins. To me the cabin was altogether a most satisfactory place.
“I reckon ye're tired?” asked the hunter. “Thet's some pumpkins92 of a climb unless you're used to it.”
I admitted I was pretty tired.
“Wal, rest awhile. You look like you hadn't slept much.”
He asked me about my people and home, and was so interested in forestry that he left off his task of the moment to talk about it. I was not long in discovering that what he did not know about trees and forests was hardly worth learning. He called it plain woodcraft. He had never heard of forestry. All the same I hungered for his knowledge. How lucky for me to fall in with him! The things that had puzzled me about the pines he answered easily. Then he volunteered information. From talking of the forest, he drifted to the lumbermen.
“Wal, the lumber-sharks are rippin' holes in Penetier. I reckon they wouldn't stop at nothin'. I've heered some tough stories about thet sawmill gang. I ain't acquainted with Leslie, or any of them fellers you named except Jim Williams. I knowed Jim. He was in Springer fer a while. If Jim's your friend, there'll be somethin' happenin, when he rounds up them kidnappers93. I reckon you'd better hang up with me fer a while. You don't want to get ketched again. Your life wasn't much to them fellers. I think they'd held on to you fer money. It's too bad you didn't send word home to your people.”
“I sent word home about the big steal of timber. That was before I got kidnapped. By this time the Government knows.”
“Wal, you don't say! Thet was pert of you, youngster. An' will the Government round up these sharks?”
“Indeed it will. The Government is in dead earnest about protecting the National Forests.”
“So it ought to be. Next to a forest fire, I hate these skinned timber tracts94. Wal, old Penetier's going to see somethin' lively before long. Youngster, them lumbermen—leastways, them fellers you call Bud an' Bill, an' such—they're goin' to fight.”
The old hunter left me presently, and went outside. I waited awhile for him, but as he did not return I lay down upon the bearskins and dropped to sleep. It seemed I had hardly closed my eyes when I felt a hand on my arm and heard a voice.
“Wake up, youngster. Thar's two old bears an' a cub95 been foolin' with one of my traps.”
In a flash I was wide awake.
“Let's see your gun. Humph! pretty small—38 caliber, ain't it? Wal, it'll do the work if you hold straight. Can you shoot?”
“Fairly well.”
He took his heavy Winchester, and threw a coil of thin rope over his shoulder.
“Come on. Stay close to me, an' keep your eyes peeled.”
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收听单词发音
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1
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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waded
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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canyon
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| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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exultantly
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| adv.狂欢地，欢欣鼓舞地 | |
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cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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avalanche
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| n.雪崩，大量涌来 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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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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ledges
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| n.（墙壁，悬崖等）突出的狭长部分( ledge的名词复数 )；（平窄的）壁架；横档；（尤指）窗台 | |
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niche
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| n.壁龛；合适的职务(环境、位置等) | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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thrifty
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| adj.节俭的；兴旺的；健壮的 | |
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grouse
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| n.松鸡；v.牢骚，诉苦 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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sever
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| v.切开，割开；断绝，中断 | |
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jumbles
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| 混杂( jumble的名词复数 )； （使）混乱； 使混乱； 使杂乱 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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haggled
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| v.讨价还价( haggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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41
broiling
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| adj.酷热的，炽热的，似烧的v.（用火）烤（焙、炙等）( broil的现在分词 )；使卷入争吵；使混乱；被烤（或炙） | |
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42
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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43
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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44
browsed
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| v.吃草( browse的过去式和过去分词 )；随意翻阅；（在商店里）随便看看；（在计算机上）浏览信息 | |
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glade
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| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
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glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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strutted
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| 趾高气扬地走，高视阔步( strut的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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forestry
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| n.森林学；林业 | |
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prospered
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| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gnawed
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| 咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
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gnaw
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| v.不断地啃、咬；使苦恼，折磨 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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pried
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| v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的过去式和过去分词 )；撬开 | |
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sprouts
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| n.新芽，嫩枝( sprout的名词复数 )v.发芽( sprout的第三人称单数 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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crunch
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| n.关键时刻；艰难局面；v.发出碎裂声 | |
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rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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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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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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gorged
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| v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的过去式和过去分词 )；作呕 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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riveted
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| 铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 )； 把…固定住； 吸引； 引起某人的注意 | |
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brawny
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| adj.强壮的 | |
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lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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overalls
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| n.（复）工装裤；长罩衣 | |
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caliber
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| n.能力；水准 | |
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kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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slash
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| vi.大幅度削减；vt.猛砍，尖锐抨击，大幅减少；n.猛砍，斜线，长切口，衣衩 | |
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devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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cougar
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| n.美洲狮；美洲豹 | |
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grizzly
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| adj.略为灰色的，呈灰色的；n.灰色大熊 | |
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plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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tacked
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| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
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shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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scouring
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| 擦[洗]净，冲刷，洗涤 | |
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glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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92
pumpkins
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| n.南瓜( pumpkin的名词复数 )；南瓜的果肉，南瓜囊 | |
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kidnappers
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| n.拐子，绑匪( kidnapper的名词复数 ) | |
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tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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cub
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| n.幼兽，年轻无经验的人 | |
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