REDUCED—CHEAP SHOVELS1 FOR GRAVE DIGGING—WIRE FISH NETS AT A
SACRIFICE—OUR NARROWEST ESCAPE—BLOWN OUT TO SEA—SAVED BY THE
"Onward2"
We reached Okhotsk about the 1st of August, and after seeing the Major off for St. Petersburg, I sailed again in the Onward and spent most of the next month in cruising along the coast, picking up our scattered3 working-parties, and getting on board such stores and material as happened to be accessible and were worth saving.
Early in September, I returned to Gizhiga and proceeded to close up the business and make preparations for final departure. Our instructions from the Company were to sell all of our stores that were salable4 and use the proceeds in the payment of our debts. I have no doubt that this seemed to our worthy5 directors a perfectly6 feasible scheme, and one likely to bring in a considerable amount of ready money; but, unfortunately, their acquaintance with our environment was very limited, and their plan, from our point of view, was open to several objections. In the first place, although we had at Gizhiga fifteen or twenty thousand dollars' worth of unused material, most of it was of such a nature as to be absolutely unsalable in that country. In the second place, the villages of Okhotsk, Yamsk, and Gizhiga, taken together, did not have more than five hundred inhabitants, and it was doubtful whether the whole five hundred could make up a purse of as many rubles, even to ensure their eternal salvation7. Assuming, therefore, that the natives wanted our crowbars, telegraph poles, and pickaxes they had little or no money with which to pay for them. However orders were orders; and as soon as practicable we opened, in front of our principal storehouse, a sort of international bazaar8, and proceeded to dispose of our superfluous9 goods upon the best terms possible. We put the price of telegraph wire down until that luxury was within the reach of the poorest Korak family. We glutted10 the market with pickaxes and long-handled shovels, which we assured the natives would be useful in burying their dead, and threw in a lot of frozen cucumber pickles11 and other anti-scorbutics which we warranted to fortify12 the health of the living. We sold glass insulators13 by the hundred as patent American teacups, and brackets by the thousand as prepared American kindling-wood. We offered soap and candles as premiums14 to anybody who would buy our salt pork and dried apples, and taught the natives how to make cooling drinks and hot biscuits, in order to create a demand for our redundant15 lime-juice and baking-powder. We directed all our energies to the creation of artificial wants in that previously16 happy and contented17 community, and flooded the whole adjacent country with articles that were of no more use to the poor natives than ice-boats and mouse-traps would be to the Tuaregs of the Saharan desert. In short, we dispensed18 the blessings19 of civilisation20 with a free hand. But the result was not as satisfactory as our directors doubtless expected it to be. The market at last refused to absorb any more brackets and pickaxes; telegraph wire did not make as good fish-nets and dog-harnesses as some of our salesmen confidently predicted that it would; and lime-juice and water, as a beverage21, even when drunk out of pressed-crystal insulators, beautifully tinted23 with green, did not seem to commend itself to the aboriginal24 mind. So we finally had to shut up our store. We had gathered in—if I remember rightly—about three hundred rubles ($150.), which, with the money that Major Abaza had left us, amounted to something like five hundred. I did not use this cash, however, in the payment of the Company's debts. I expected to have to return to the United States through Siberia, and I did not propose to put myself in such a position that I should be compelled to defray my travelling expenses by peddling25 lime-juice, cucumber pickles, telegraph wire, dried apples, glass insulators, and baking-powder along the road. I therefore persuaded the Company's creditors26, who, fortunately, were not very numerous, to take tea and sugar in satisfaction of their claims, so that I might save all the cash I had for the overland trip from Okhotsk to St. Petersburg.
Our business in Gizhiga was finally adjusted and settled; our working-parties were all called in; and we were just about to sail in the bark Onward for Okhotsk, when we were suddenly confronted by the deadliest peril27 that we had encountered in more than two years of arctic experience. Every explorer who goes into a wild, unknown part of the world to make scientific researches, to find a new route for commerce, or to gratify an innate28 love of adventure, has, now and then, an escape from a violent death which is so extraordinary that he classifies it under the head of "narrow." The peril that he incurs29 may be momentary30 in duration, or it may be prolonged for hours, or even days; but in any case, while it lasts it is imminent31 and deadly. It is something more than ordinary danger—it is peril in which the chances of death are a hundred and of life only one. Such peril advances, as a rule, with terrifying swiftness and suddenness; and if one be unaccustomed to danger, he is liable to be beaten down and overwhelmed by the quick and unexpected shock of the catastrophe32. He has no time to rally his nervous forces, or to think how he will deal with the emergency. The crisis comes like an instantaneous "Vision of Sudden Death," which paralyses all his faculties33 before he has a chance to exercise them. Swift danger of this kind tests to the utmost a man's inherited or acquired capacity for instinctive34 and purely35 automatic action; but as it generally passes before it has been fairly comprehended, it is not so trying, I think, to the nerves and to the character as the danger that is prolonged to the point of full realisation, and that cannot then be averted37 or lessened38 by any possible action. It is only when a man has time to understand and appreciate the impending39 catastrophe, and can do absolutely nothing to avert36 it, that he fully22 realises the possibility of death. Action of any kind is tonic40, and when a man can fight danger with his muscles or his brain, he is roused and excited by the struggle; but when he can do nothing except wait, watch the suspended sword of Damocles, and wonder how soon the stroke will come, he must have strong nerves long to endure the strain.
Just before we sailed from Gizhiga in the Onward, eight of us had an escape from death in which the peril came with great swiftness and suddenness, and was prolonged almost to the extreme limit of nervous endurance. On account of the lateness of the season and the rocky, precipitous, and extremely dangerous character of the coast in the vicinity of Gizhiga, the captain of the bark had not deemed it prudent41 to run into the mouth of the Gizhiga River at the point of the long A-shaped gulf42, but had anchored on a shoal off the eastern coast, at a distance from the beacon-tower of nearly twenty miles. From our point of view on land, the vessel43 was entirely44 out of sight; but I knew where she lay, and did not anticipate any difficulty in getting on board as soon as I should finish my work ashore45.
I intended to go off to the ship with the last of Sandford's party on the morning of September 11th, but I was detained unexpectedly by the presentation of a number of native claims and other unforeseen matters of business, and when I had finally settled and closed up everything it was four o'clock in the afternoon. In the high latitude46 of north-eastern Siberia a September night shuts in early, and I felt some hesitation47 about setting out at such an hour, in an open boat, for a vessel lying twenty miles at sea; but I knew that the captain of the Onward was very nervous and anxious to get away from that dangerous locality; the wind, which was blowing a fresh breeze off shore, would soon take us down the coast to the vessel's anchorage; and after a moment of indecision I gave the order to start. There were eight men of us, including Sandford, Bowsher, Heck, and four others whose names I cannot now recall.
Our boat was an open sloop48-rigged sail-boat, about twenty-five feet in length, which we had bought from a Russian merchant named Phillipeus. I had not before that time paid much attention to her, but so far as I knew she was safe and seaworthy. There was some question, however, as to whether she carried ballast enough for her sail-area, and at the last moment, to make sure of being on the safe side, I had two of Sandford's men roll down and put on board two barrels of sugar from the Company's storehouse. I then bade good-bye to Dodd and Frost, the comrades who had shared with me so many hardships and perils49, took a seat in the stern-sheets of the little sloop, and we were off.
It was a dark, gloomy, autumnal evening, and the stiff north-easterly breeze which came to us in freshening gusts50 over the snow-whitened crest51 of the Stanavoi range had a keen edge, suggestive of approaching winter. The sea, however, was comparatively smooth, and until we got well out into the gulf the idea of possible danger never so much as suggested itself to me. But as we left the shelter of the high, iron-bound coast the wind seemed to increase in strength, the sea began to rise, and the sullen52, darkening sky, as the gloom of night gathered about us, gave warning of heavy weather. It would have been prudent, while it was still light, to heave the sloop to and take a reef, if not a double reef, in the mainsail; but Heck, who was managing the boat, did not seem to think this necessary, and in another hour, when the necessity of reefing had become apparent to everybody, the sea was so high and dangerous that we did not dare to come about for fear of capsizing, or shipping53 more green water than we could readily dispose of. So we staggered on before the rising gale54, trusting to luck, and hoping every moment that we should catch sight of the Onward's lights.
It has always seemed to me that the most dangerous point of sailing in a small open boat in a high combing sea is running dead before the wind. When you are sailing close-hauled, you can luff up into a squall, if necessary, or meet a steep, dangerous sea bow on; but when you are scudding55 you are almost helpless. You can neither luff, nor spill the wind out of the sail by slackening off the sheet, nor put your boat in a position to take a heavy sea safely. The end of your long boom is liable to trip as you roll and wallow through the waves, and every time you rise on the crest of a big comber your rudder comes out of water, and your bow swings around until there is imminent danger of an accidental jibe56.
Heck, who managed our sloop, was a fairly good sailor, but as the wind increased, the darkness thickened, and the sea grew higher and higher, it became evident to me that nothing but unusually good luck would enable us to reach the ship in safety. We were not shipping any water, except now and then a bucketful of foam57 and spray blown from the crest of a wave; but the boat was yawing in a very dangerous way as she mounted the high, white-capped rollers, and I was afraid that sooner or later she would swing around so far that even with the most skilful58 steering59 a jibe would be inevitable60.
It was very dark; I had lost sight of the land; and I don't know exactly in what part of the gulf we were when the dreaded61 catastrophe came. The sloop rose on the back of an exceptionally high, combing sea, hung poised62 for an instant on its crest, and then, with a wide yaw to starboard which the rudder was powerless to check, swooped63 down sidewise into the hollow, rolling heavily to port and pointing her boom high up into the gale. When I saw the dark outline of the leech64 of the mainsail waver for an instant, flap once or twice, and then suddenly collapse65, I knew what was coming, and shouting at the top of my voice, "Look out Heck! She'll jibe!" I instinctively66 threw myself into the bottom of the boat to escape the boom. With a quick, sudden rush, ending in a great crash, the long heavy spar swept across the boat from starboard to port, knocking Bowsher overboard and carrying away the mast. The sloop swung around into the trough of the sea, in a tangle67 of sails, sheets, halyards, and standing68 rigging; and the next great comber came plump into her, filling her almost to the gunwales with a white smother69 of foam. I thought for a moment that she had swamped and was sinking; but as I rose to a crouching70 posture71 and rubbed the saltwater out of my eyes, I saw that she was less than half full, and that if we did not ship another sea too soon, prompt and energetic bailing73 might yet keep her afloat.
"Bail72 her out, boys! For your lives! With your hats!" I shouted: and began scooping74 out the water with my fur hood75.
Eight men bailing for life, even with hats and caps, can throw a great deal of water out of a boat in a very short time; and within five or ten minutes the first imminent danger of sinking was over. Bowsher, who was a good swimmer and had not been seriously hurt by the boom, climbed back into the boat; we cut away the standing rigging, freed the sloop from the tangle of cordage, and got the water-soaked mainsail on board; and then, tying a corner of this sail to the stump76 of the mast, we spread it as well as we could, so that it would catch a little wind and give the boat steerage-way. Under the influence of this scrap77 of canvas the sloop swung slowly around, across the seas; the water ceased to come into her; and wringing78 out our wet caps and clothing, we began to breathe more freely.
When the first excitement of the crisis had passed and I recovered my self-possession, I tried to estimate, as coolly as possible, our prospects80 and our chances. The situation seemed to me almost hopeless. We were in a dismasted boat, without oars81, without a compass, without a morsel82 of food or a mouthful of water, and we were being blown out to sea in a heavy north-easterly gale. It was so dark that we could not see the land on either side of the constantly widening gulf; there was no sign of the Onward; and in all probability there was not another vessel in any part of the Okhotsk Sea. The nearest land was eight or ten miles distant; we were drifting farther and farther away from it; and in our disabled and helpless condition there was not the remotest chance of our reaching it. In all probability our sloop would not live through the night in such a gale; and even should she remain afloat until morning, we should then be far out at sea, with nothing to eat or drink, and with no prospect79 of being picked up. If the wind should hold in the direction in which it was blowing, it would carry us past the Onward at a distance of at least three miles; we had no lantern with which to attract the attention of the ship's watch, even should we happen to drift past her within sight; the captain did not know that we were coming off to the bark that night, and would not think of looking out for us; and so far as I could discover, there was not a ray of hope for us in any direction.
How long we drifted out in black darkness, and in that tumbling, threatening, foam-crested sea, I do not know. It seemed to me many hours. I had a letter in my pocket which I had written the day before to my mother, and which I had intended to send down to San Francisco with the bark. In it I assured her that she need not feel any further anxiety about my safety, because the Russian-American telegraph line had been abandoned. I was to be landed by the Onward at Okhotsk; I was coming home by way of St. Petersburg over a good post-road; and I should not be exposed to any more dangers. As I sat there in the dismasted sloop, shivering with cold and drifting out to sea before a howling arctic gale, I remembered this letter, and wondered what my poor mother would think if she could read its contents and at the same time see in a mental vision the situation of the writer.
So far as I can remember, there was very little talking among the men during these long, dark hours of suspense83. None of us, I think, had any hope; it was hard to make one's voice heard above the roaring of the wind; and we all sat or cowered84 in the bottom of the boat, waiting for an end which could not be very far away. Now and then a heavy sea would break over us, and we would all begin bailing again with our hats; but aside from this there was nothing to be done. It did not seem to me probable that the half-wrecked sloop would live more than three or four hours. The gale was constantly rising, and every few minutes we were lashed85 with stinging whips of icy spray, as a fierce squall struck the water to windward, scooped86 off the crests87 of the waves, and swept them horizontally in dense88 white clouds across the boat.
It must have been about nine o'clock when somebody in the bow shouted excitedly, "I see a light!"
"Where away?" I cried, half rising from the bottom of the boat in the stern-sheets.
"Three or four points off the port bow," the voice replied.
"Are you sure?" I demanded.
"I'm not quite sure, but I saw the twinkle of something away over on the Matuga Island side. It's gone now," the voice added, after a moment's pause; "but I saw something."
We all looked eagerly and anxiously in the direction indicated; but strain our vision as we might, we could not see the faintest gleam or twinkle in the impenetrable darkness to leeward89. If there was a light visible, in that or in any other direction, it could only be the anchor-light of the Onward, because both coasts of the gulf were uninhabited; but it seemed to me probable that the man had been deceived by a sparkle of phosphorescence or the gleam of a white foam-crest.
For fully five minutes no one spoke90, but all stared into the thick gloom ahead. Then, suddenly, the same voice cried aloud in a tone of still greater excitement, assurance, and certainty, "There it is again! I knew I saw it! It's a ship's light!"
In another moment I caught sight of it myself—a faint, distant, intermittent91 twinkle on the horizon nearly dead ahead.
"It's the anchor-light of the Onward!" I shouted in fierce excitement. "Spread the corner of the mainsail a little more if you can, boys, so as to give her better steerage-way. We've got to make that ship! Hold her steady on the light, Heck, even if you have to put her in the trough of the sea. We might as well founder92 as drift past!"
The men forward caught up the loose edges of the mainsail and extended it as widely as possible to the gale, clinging to the thwarts94 and the stump of the mast to avoid being jerked overboard by the bellying95 canvas. Heck brought the sloop's head around so that the light was under our bow, and on we staggered through the dark, storm-lashed turmoil96 of waters, shipping a sea now and then, but half sailing, half drifting toward the anchored bark. The wind came in such fierce gusts and squalls that one could hardly say from what quarter it was blowing; but, as nearly as I could judge in the thick darkness, it had shifted three or four points to the westward97. If such were the case, we had a fair chance of making the ship, which lay nearer the eastern than the western coast of the gulf.
"Don't let her head fall off any, Heck," I cried. "Jam her over to the eastward98 as much as you can, even if the sea comes into her. We can keep her clear with our hats. If we drift past we're gone!"
As we approached the bark the light grew rapidly brighter: but I did not realise how near we were until the lantern, which was hanging in the ship's fore-rigging, swung for an instant behind the jib-stay, and the vessel's illuminated99 cordage suddenly came out in delicate tracery against the black sky, less than a hundred yards away.
"There she is!" shouted Sandford. "We're close on her!"
The bark was pitching furiously to her anchors, and as we drifted rapidly down upon her we could hear the hoarse100 roar of the gale through her rigging, and see a pale gleam of foam as the sea broke in sheets of spray against her bluff101 bows.
"Shall I try to round to abreast102 of her?" cried Heck to me, "or shall
I go bang down on her?"
"Don't take any chances," I shouted. "Better strike her, and go to pieces alongside, than miss her and drift past. Make ready now to hail her—all together—one,—two,—three! Bark aho-o-y! Stand by to throw us a line!"
But no sound came from the huge black shadow under the pitching lantern save the deep bass103 roar of the storm through the cordage.
We gave one more fierce, inarticulate cry as the dark outline of the bark rose on a sea high above our heads; and then, with a staggering shock and a great crash, the boat struck the ship's bow.
What happened in the next minute I hardly know. I have a confused recollection of being thrown violently across a thwart93 in a white smother of foam; of struggling to my feet and clutching frantically104 at a wet, black wall, and of hearing some one shout in a wild, despairing voice: "Watch ahoy! We're sinking! For God's sake throw us a line!"—but that is all.
The water-logged sloop seesawed105 up and down past the bark's side, one moment rising on a huge comber until I could almost grasp the rail, and the next sinking into a deep hollow between the surges, far below the line of the copper106 sheathing107. We tore the ends of our finger-nails off against the ship's side in trying to stop the boat's drift, and shouted despairingly again and again for help and a line; but our voices were drowned in the roar of the gale, there was no response, and the next sea carried us under the bark's counter. I made one last clutch at the smooth, wet planks108; and then, as we drifted astern past the ship, I abandoned hope.
The sloop was sinking rapidly,—I was already standing up to my knees in water,—and in thirty seconds more we should be out of sight of the bark, in the dark, tumbling sea to leeward, with no more chance of rescue than if we were drowning in mid-Atlantic. Suddenly a dark figure in the boat beside me,—I learned afterward109 that it was Bowsher,—tore off his coat and waistcoat and made a bold leap into the sea to windward. He knew that it was certain death to drift out of sight of the bark in that sinking sloop, and he hoped to be able to swim alongside until he should be picked up. I myself had not thought of this before, but I saw instantly that it offered a forlorn hope of escape, and I was just poised in the act of following his example when on the quarter-deck of the bark, already twenty feet away, a white ghost-like figure appeared with uplifted arm, and a hoarse voice shouted, "Stand by to catch a line!"
It was the Onward's second mate. He had heard our cries in his state-room as we drifted under the ship's counter, and had instantly sprung from his berth110 and rushed on deck in his night-shirt.
By the dim light of the binnacle I could just see the coil of rope unwind as it left his hand; but I could not see where it fell; I knew that there would be no time for another throw; and it seemed to me that my heart did not beat again until I heard from the bow of the sloop a cheery shout of "All right! I've got the line! Slack off till I make it fast!"
In thirty seconds more we were safe. The second mate roused the watch, who had apparently111 taken refuge in the forecastle from the storm; the sloop was hauled up under the bark's stern; a second line was thrown to Bowsher, and one by one we were hoisted112, in a sort of improvised113 breeches-buoy, to the Onward's quarterdeck. As I came aboard, coatless, hatless, and shivering from cold and excitement, the captain stared at me in amazement114 for a moment, and then exclaimed: "Good God! Mr. Kennan, is that you? What possessed115 you to come off to the ship such a night as this?"
"Well, Captain," I replied, trying to force a smile, "it didn't blow in this way when we started; and we had an accident—carried our mast away."
"But," he remonstrated116, "it has been blowing great guns ever since dark. We've got two anchors down, and we've been dragging them both. I finally had them buoyed117, and told the mate that if they dragged again we'd slip the cables and run out to sea. You might not have found us here at all, and then where would you have been?"
"Probably at the bottom of the gulf," I replied. "I haven't expected anything else for the last three hours."
The ill-fated sloop from which we made this narrow escape was so crushed in her collision with the bark that the sea battered118 her to pieces in the course of the night, and when I went on deck the next morning, a few ribs119 and shattered planks, floating awash at the end of the line astern, were all of her that remained.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
shovels
|
|
| n.铲子( shovel的名词复数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份v.铲子( shovel的第三人称单数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
onward
|
|
| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
salable
|
|
| adj.有销路的，适销的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
salvation
|
|
| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
bazaar
|
|
| n.集市，商店集中区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
superfluous
|
|
| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
glutted
|
|
| v.吃得过多( glut的过去式和过去分词 )；（对胃口、欲望等）纵情满足；使厌腻；塞满 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
pickles
|
|
| n.腌菜( pickle的名词复数 )；处于困境；遇到麻烦；菜酱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
fortify
|
|
| v.强化防御，为…设防；加强，强化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
insulators
|
|
| 绝缘、隔热或隔音等的物质或装置( insulator的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
premiums
|
|
| n.费用( premium的名词复数 )；保险费；额外费用；（商品定价、贷款利息等以外的）加价 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
redundant
|
|
| adj.多余的，过剩的；(食物)丰富的；被解雇的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
previously
|
|
| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
contented
|
|
| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
dispensed
|
|
| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
blessings
|
|
| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
civilisation
|
|
| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
beverage
|
|
| n.(水，酒等之外的)饮料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
tinted
|
|
| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
aboriginal
|
|
| adj.（指动植物）土生的，原产地的，土著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
peddling
|
|
| 忙于琐事的，无关紧要的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
creditors
|
|
| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
innate
|
|
| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
incurs
|
|
| 遭受，招致，引起( incur的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
imminent
|
|
| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
catastrophe
|
|
| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
faculties
|
|
| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
instinctive
|
|
| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
purely
|
|
| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
avert
|
|
| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
averted
|
|
| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
lessened
|
|
| 减少的，减弱的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
impending
|
|
| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
tonic
|
|
| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
prudent
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
gulf
|
|
| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
vessel
|
|
| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
ashore
|
|
| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
latitude
|
|
| n.纬度，行动或言论的自由(范围)，(pl.)地区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
hesitation
|
|
| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
sloop
|
|
| n.单桅帆船 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
perils
|
|
| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
gusts
|
|
| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
crest
|
|
| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
sullen
|
|
| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
shipping
|
|
| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
gale
|
|
| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
scudding
|
|
| n.刮面v.（尤指船、舰或云彩）笔直、高速而平稳地移动( scud的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
jibe
|
|
| v.嘲笑，与...一致，使转向；n.嘲笑，嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
foam
|
|
| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
skilful
|
|
| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
steering
|
|
| n.操舵装置 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
dreaded
|
|
| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
poised
|
|
| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
swooped
|
|
| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
leech
|
|
| n.水蛭，吸血鬼，榨取他人利益的人；vt.以水蛭吸血；vi.依附于别人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
collapse
|
|
| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
tangle
|
|
| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
smother
|
|
| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
crouching
|
|
| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
posture
|
|
| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
bail
|
|
| v.舀（水），保释；n.保证金，保释，保释人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
bailing
|
|
| （凿井时用吊桶）排水 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
scooping
|
|
| n.捞球v.抢先报道( scoop的现在分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
hood
|
|
| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
stump
|
|
| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
scrap
|
|
| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
wringing
|
|
| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
prospects
|
|
| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
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： |
|
|
|
|
82
morsel
|
|
| n.一口，一点点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
suspense
|
|
| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
cowered
|
|
| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
lashed
|
|
| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
scooped
|
|
| v.抢先报道( scoop的过去式和过去分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
crests
|
|
| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
leeward
|
|
| adj.背风的；下风的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
intermittent
|
|
| adj.间歇的，断断续续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
Founder
|
|
| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
thwart
|
|
| v.阻挠，妨碍，反对；adj.横(断的) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
thwarts
|
|
| 阻挠( thwart的第三人称单数 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
bellying
|
|
| 鼓出部；鼓鼓囊囊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
96
turmoil
|
|
| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
westward
|
|
| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
eastward
|
|
| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
illuminated
|
|
| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
hoarse
|
|
| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
bluff
|
|
| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
abreast
|
|
| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
bass
|
|
| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
frantically
|
|
| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
seesawed
|
|
| v.使上下（来回）摇动( seesaw的过去式和过去分词 )；玩跷跷板，上下（来回）摇动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
copper
|
|
| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
sheathing
|
|
| n.覆盖物，罩子v.将（刀、剑等）插入鞘( sheathe的现在分词 )；包，覆盖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
planks
|
|
| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
afterward
|
|
| adv.后来；以后 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
berth
|
|
| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
hoisted
|
|
| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
improvised
|
|
| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
remonstrated
|
|
| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
buoyed
|
|
| v.使浮起( buoy的过去式和过去分词 )；支持；为…设浮标；振奋…的精神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
battered
|
|
| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
ribs
|
|
| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |