Just before daybreak of the fifth day we stole past the sleeping hamlet of Caughnawaga, and as the sun was rising over the Schoharie hills I drew up the canoe into the outlet2 of Dadanoscara Creek3, a small brook4 which came down through the woods from the high land whereon Cairncross stood. Our journey by water was ended.
Enoch was waiting for us, and helped me lift Cross from the canoe. His body hung inert5 in our arms; not even my clumsy slipping on the bank of the rivulet6 startled him from the deep sleep in which he had lain for hours in the boat.
"I have been frightened. Can he be dying?" I asked.
Enoch knelt beside him, and put his hand over the patient's heart. He shook his head dubiously7 after a moment, and said: "It's tearing along like a racehorse. He's in a fever--the worst kind. This ain't sleep--it's stupor8."
He felt the wounded man's pulse and temples. "If you're bent9 on saving his life," he added, "you'd better scoot off and get some help. Before we can make another litter for him, let alone taking him up this creek-bed to his house, it may be too late. If we had a litter ready, it might be different. As it is, I don't see but you will have to risk it, and bring somebody here."
For once in my life my brain worked in flashes. I actually thought of something which had not occurred to Enoch!
"Why not carry him in this canoe?" I asked. "It is lighter10 than any litter we could make."
The trapper slapped his lank11, leather-clad thigh12 in high approval. "By hokey!" he said, "you've hit it!"
We sat on the mossy bank, on either side of the insensible Philip, and ate the last remaining fragments of our store of food. Another day of this and we should have been forced to shoot something, and light a fire to cook it over, no matter what the danger. Enoch had, indeed, favored this course two days before, but I clung to my notion of keeping Cross's presence in the Valley an absolute secret. His life would have been in deadly peril13 hereabouts, even before the battle. How bitterly the hatred14 of him and his traitor-fellows must have been augmented15 by the slaughter16 of that cruel ambuscade, I could readily imagine. With what words could I have protected him against the righteous rage of a Snell, for example, or a Seeber, or any one of a hundred others who had left kinsmen17 behind in that fatal gulch18? No! There must be no risk run by meeting any one.
With the scanty19 meal finished our rest was at an end. We ought to lose no time. Each minute's delay in getting the wounded man under a roof, in bed, within reach of aid and nursing, might be fatal.
It was no light task to get the canoe upon our shoulders, after we had put in it our guns, covered these with ferns and twigs20, and upon these laid Philip's bulky form, and a very few moments' progress showed that the work before us was to be no child's play. The conformation of the canoe made it a rather awkward thing to carry, to begin with. To bear it right side up, laden21 as it was, over eight miles of almost continuous ascent22, through a perfectly23 unbroken wilderness24, was as laborious25 an undertaking26 as it is easy to conceive.
We toiled27 along so slowly, and the wretched little brook, whose bed we strove to follow, described such a wandering course, and was so often rendered fairly impassable by rocks, driftwood, and overhanging thicket28, that when the sun hung due south above us we had covered barely half our journey, and confronted still the hardest portion of it. We were so exhausted29 when this noon hour came, too, that I could make no objection when Enoch declared his purpose of getting some trout30 from the brook, and cooking them. Besides, we were far enough away from the river highway and from all habitations now to render the thing practically safe. Accordingly I lighted a small fire of the driest wood to be found, while the trapper stole up and down the brook, moving with infinite stealth and dexterity31, tracking down fish and catching32 them with his hands under the stones.
Soon he had enough for a meal--and, my word! it was a feast for emperors or angels. We stuffed the pink dainties with mint, and baked them in balls of clay. It seemed as if I had not eaten before in years.
We tried to rouse Cross sufficiently33 to enable him to eat, and in a small way succeeded; but the effect upon him was scarcely beneficial, it appeared to us. His fever increased, and when we started out once more under our burden, the motion inseparable from our progress affected34 his head, and he began to talk incoherently to himself.
Nothing can be imagined more weird35 and startling than was the sound of this voice above us, when we first heard it. Both Enoch and I instinctively36 stopped. For the moment we could not tell whence the sound came, and I know not what wild notions about it flashed through my mind. Even when we realized that it was the fever-loosed tongue of our companion which spoke37, the effect was scarcely less uncanny. Though I could not see him, the noise of his ceaseless talking came from a point close to my head; he spoke for the most part in a bold, high voice--unnaturally raised above the pitch of his recent faint waking utterances39. Whenever a fallen log or jutting40 bowlder gave us a chance to rest our load without the prospect41 of too much work in hoisting42 it again, we would set the canoe down, and that moment his lips would close. There seemed to be some occult connection between the motion of our walking and the activity of his disordered brain.
For a long time--of course in a very disconnected way--he babbled43 about his mother, and of people, presumably English, of whom I knew nothing, save that one name, Digby, was that of his elder brother Then there began to be interwoven with this talk stray mention of Daisy's name, and soon the whole discourse44 was of her.
The freaks of delirium45 have little significance, I believe, as clews to the saner46 courses of the mind, but he spoke only gently in his imaginary speeches to his wife. I had to listen, plodding47 wearily along with aching shoulders under the burden of the boat, to fond, affectionate words addressed to her in an incessant48 string. The thread of his ideas seemed to be that he had arrived home, worn-out and ill, and that he was resting his head upon her bosom49. Over and over again, with tiresome50 iteration, he kept entreating51 plaintively52: "You are glad to see me? You do truly forgive me, and love me?"
Nothing could have been sadder than to hear him. I reasoned that this ceaseless dwelling53 upon the sweets of a tender welcome doubtless reflected the train of his thoughts during the journey down from the battle-field. He had forborne to once mention Daisy's name during the whole voyage, but he must have thought deeply, incessantly54 of her--in all likelihood with a great softening55 of heart and yearning56 for her compassionate57 nursing. It was not in me to be unmoved by this. I declare that as I went painfully forward, with this strangely pathetic song of passion repeating itself in my ears, I got fairly away from the habit of mind in which my own love for Daisy existed, and felt myself only an agent in the working out of some sombre and exalted58 romance.
In Foxe's account of the English martyrs59 there are stories of men at the stake who, when a certain stage of the torture was reached, really forgot their anguish60 in the emotional ecstasy61 of the ideas born of that terrible moment. In a poor and imperfect fashion I approached that same strange state--not far removed, in sober fact, from the delirium of the man in the canoe.
The shadows were lengthening62 in the woods, and the reddening blaze of the sun flared63 almost level in our eyes through the tree-trunks, when at last we had crossed the water-shed of the two creeks64, and stood looking down into the gulf of which I have so often spoken heretofore.
We rested the canoe upon a great rock in the mystic circle of ancient Indian fire worship, and leaned, tired and panting, against its side. My arm was giving me much pain, and what with insufficient65 food and feverish66 sleep, great immediate67 fatigue68, and the vast nervous strain of these past six days, I was well-nigh swooning.
"I fear I can go no farther, Enoch," I groaned69. "I can barely keep my feet as it is."
The trapper himself was as close to utter exhaustion70 as one may be and have aught of spirit left, yet he tried to speak cheerily.
"Come, come!" he said, "we mustn't give out now, right here at the finish. Why, it's only down over that bridge, and up again--and there we are!"
I smiled in a sickly way at him, and strove to nerve myself manfully for a final exertion71. "Very well," I made answer. "Just a moment's more rest, and we'll at it again."
While we stood half reclining against the bowlder, looking with trepidation72 at the stiff ascent before us on the farther side of the gulf, the scene of the old quarrel of our youth suddenly came to my mind.
"Do you see that spruce near the top, by the path--the one hanging over the edge? Five years ago I was going to fight this Philip Cross there, on that path. My little nigger Tulp ran between us, and he threw him head over heels to the bottom. The lad has never been himself since."
"Pretty tolerable fall," remarked Enoch, glancing down the precipitous, brush-clad wall of rock. "But a nigger lands on his head as a cat does on her feet, and it only scratches him where it would kill anybody else."
We resumed our burden now, and made our way with it down the winding73 path to the bottom. Here I was fain to surrender once for all.
"It is no use, Enoch," I said, resolutely74. "I can't even try to climb up there with this load. You must wait here; I will go ahead to Cairncross, prepare them for his coming, and send down some slaves to fetch him the rest of the way."
The great square mansion75 reared before me a closed and inhospitable front. The shutters76 of all the windows were fastened. Since the last rain no wheels had passed over the carriage-way. For all the signs of life visible, Cairncross might have been uninhabited a twelve-month.
It was only when I pushed my way around to the rear of the house, within view of the stables and slave quarters, that I learned the place had not been abandoned. Half a dozen niggers, dressed in their holiday, church-going raiment, were squatting77 in a close circle on the grass, intent upon the progress of some game. Their interest in this was so deep that I had drawn78 near to them, and called a second time, before they became aware of my presence.
They looked for a minute at me in a perplexed79 way--my mud-baked clothes, unshaven face, and general unkempt condition evidently rendering80 me a stranger in their eyes. Then one of them screamed: "Golly! Mass' Douw's ghost!" and the nimble cowards were on their feet and scampering81 like scared rabbits to the orchard82, or into the basement of the great house.
So I was supposed to be dead! Curiously83 enough, it had not occurred to me before that this would be the natural explanation of my failure to return with the others. The idea now gave me a queer quaking sensation about the heart, and I stood stupidly staring at the back balcony of the house, with my mind in a whirl of confused thoughts. It seemed almost as if I had come back from the grave.
While I still stood, faint and bewildered, trying to regain84 control of my ideas, the door opened, and a white-faced lady, robed all in black, came swiftly out upon the porch. It was Daisy, and she was gazing at me with distended85 eyes and parted lips, and clinging to the carved balustrade for support.
As in a dream I heard her cry of recognition, and knew that she was gliding86 toward me. Then I was on my knees at her feet, burying my face in the folds of her dress, and moaning incoherent nothings from sheer exhaustion and rapture87.
When at last I could stand up, and felt myself coming back to something like self-possession, a score of eager questions and as many outbursts of deep thanksgiving were in my ears--all from her sweet voice. And I had tongue for none of them, but only looked into her dear face, and patted her hands between mine, and trembled like a leaf with excitement. So much was there to say, the sum of it beggared language.
When finally we did talk, I was seated in a great chair one of the slaves had brought upon the sward, and wine had been fetched me, and my dear girl bent gently over me from behind, softly resting my head against her waist, her hands upon my arms.
"You shall not look me in the face again," she said--with ah! such compassionate, tender playfulness--"until I have been told. How did you escape? Were you a prisoner? Were you hurt?"--and oh! a host of other things.
Suddenly the sky seemed to be covered with blackness, and the joy in my heart died out as by the stroke of death. I had remembered something. My parched88 and twitching89 lips did their best to refuse to form the words:
"I have brought Philip home. He is sorely wounded. Send the slaves to bring him from the gulf."
After a long silence, I heard Daisy's voice, clear and without a tremor90, call out to the blacks that their master had been brought as far as the gulf beyond, and needed assistance. They started off helter-skelter at this, with many exclamations91 of great surprise, a bent and misshapen figure dragging itself with a grotesque92 limping gait at their tail.
I rose from my chair, now in some measure restored to calmness and cold resolution. In mercy I had been given a brief time of blind happiness--of bliss93 without the alloy94 of a single thought. Now I must be a man, and walk erect95, unflinching, to the sacrifice.
"Let us go and meet them. It is best," I said. The poor girl raised her eyes to mine, and their startled, troubled gaze went to my heart. There must have been prodigious96 effort in the self-command of her tone to the slaves, for her voice broke down utterly97 now, as she faltered98:
"You have--brought--him home! For what purpose? How will this all end? It terrifies me!"
We had by tacit consent begun to walk down the path toward the road. It was almost twilight99. I remember still how the swallows wheeled swiftly in the air about the eaves, and how their twittering and darting100 seemed to confuse and tangle101 my thoughts.
The situation was too sad for silence. I felt the necessity of talking, of uttering something which might, at least, make pretence102 of occupying these wretched minutes, until I should say:
"This is your husband--and farewell!"
"It was clear enough to me," I said. "My duty was plain. I would have been a murderer had I left him there to die. It was very strange about my feelings. Up to a certain moment they were all bitter and merciless toward him. So many better men than he were dead about me, it seemed little enough that his life should go to help avenge103 them. Yet when the moment came--why, I could not suffer it. Not that my heart relented--no; I was still full of rage against him. But none the less it was my duty to save his life."
"And to bring him home to me." She spoke musingly104, completing my sentence.
"Why, Daisy, would you have had it otherwise? Could I have left him there, to die alone, helpless in the swamp?"
"I have not said you were not right, Douw," she answered, with saddened slowness. "But I am trying to think. It is so hard to realize--coming like this. I was told you were both dead. His name was reported in their camp, yours among our people. And now you are both here--and it is all so strange, so startling--and what is right seems so mingled105 and bound up with what is cruel and painful! Oh, I cannot think! What will come of it? How will it all end?"
"We must not ask how it will end!" I made answer, with lofty decision. "That is not our affair. We can but do our duty--what seems clearly right--and bear results as they come. There is no other way. You ought to see this."
"Yes, I ought to see it," she said, slowly and in a low, distressed106 voice.
As she spoke there rose in my mind a sudden consciousness that perhaps my wisdom was at fault. How was it that I--a coarse-fibred male animal, returned from slaughter, even now with the blood of fellow-creatures on my hands--should be discoursing107 of duty and of good and bad to this pure and gentle and sweet-souled woman? What was my title to do this?--to rebuke108 her for not seeing the right? Had I been in truth generous? Rather had I not, in the purely109 selfish desire to win my own self-approbation, brought pain and perplexity down upon the head of this poor woman? I had thought much of my own goodness--my own strength of purpose and self-sacrifice and fidelity110 to duty. Had I given so much as a mental glance at the effect of my acts upon the one whom, of all others, I should have first guarded from trouble and grief?
My tongue was tied. Perhaps I had been all wrong. Perhaps I should not have brought back to her the man whose folly111 and obstinacy112 had so well-nigh wrecked113 her life. I could no longer be sure. I kept silence, feeling indirectly114 now that her woman's instinct would be truer and better than my logic115. She was thinking; she would find the real right and wrong.
Ah, no! To this day we are not settled in our minds, we two old people, as to the exact balance between duty and common-sense in that strange question of our far-away youth.
There broke upon our ears, of a sudden, as we neared the wooded crest116 of the gulf, a weird and piercing scream--an unnatural38 and repellent yell, like a hyena's horrid117 hooting118! It rose with terrible distinctness from the thicket close before us. As its echoes returned, we heard confused sounds of other voices, excited and vibrant119.
Daisy clutched my arm, and began hurrying me forward, impelled120 by some formless fear of she knew not what.
"It is Tulp," she murmured, as we went breathlessly on. "Oh, I should have kept him back! Why did I not think of it?"
"What about Tulp?" I asked, with difficulty keeping beside her in the narrow path. "I had no thought of him. I did not see him. He was not among the others, was he?"
"He has gone mad!"
"What--Tulp, poor boy? Oh, not as bad as that, surely! He has been strange and slow of wit for years, but--"
"Nay121, the tidings of your death--you know I told you we heard that you were dead--drove him into perfect madness. I doubt he knew you when you came. Only yesterday we spoke of confining him, but poor old father pleaded not. When you see Tulp, you shall decide. Oh! what has happened? Who is this man?"
In the path before us, some yards away, appeared the tall, gaunt form of Enoch, advancing slowly. In the dusk of the wooded shades behind him huddled122 the group of slaves. They bore nothing in their hands. Where was the canoe? They seemed affrighted or oppressed by something out of the common, and Enoch, too, wore a strange air. What could it mean?
When Enoch saw us he lifted his hand in a warning gesture.
"Have her go back!" he called out, with brusque sharpness.
"Will you walk back a little?" I asked her. "There is something here we do not understand. I will join you in a moment.
"For God's sake, what is it, Enoch?" I demanded, as I confronted him. "Tell me quick."
"Well, we've had our five days' tussle123 for nothing, and you're minus a nigger. That's about what it comes to."
"Speak out, can't you! Is he dead? What was the yell we heard?"
"It was all done like a flash of lightning. We were coming up the side nighest us here--we had got just where that spruce, you know, hangs over--when all at once that hump-backed nigger of yours raised a scream like a painter, and flung himself head first against the canoe. Over it went, and he with it--rip, smash, plumb124 to the bottom!"
The negroes broke forth125 in a babel of mournful cries at this, and clustered about us. I grew sick and faint under this shock of fresh horrors, and was fain to lean on Enoch's arm, as I turned to walk back to where I had left Daisy. She was not visible as we approached, and I closed my eyes in abject126 terror of some further tragedy.
Thank God, she had only swooned, and lay mercifully senseless in the tall grass, her waxen face upturned in the twilight.
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1
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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rivulet
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| n.小溪，小河 | |
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7
dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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8
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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9
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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10
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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Augmented
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| adj.增音的 动词augment的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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kinsmen
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| n.家属，亲属( kinsman的名词复数 ) | |
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gulch
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| n.深谷，峡谷 | |
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scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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dexterity
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| n.(手的)灵巧，灵活 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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spoke
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| 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 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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utterances
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| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
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jutting
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| v.（使）突出( jut的现在分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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41
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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42
hoisting
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| 起重，提升 | |
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43
babbled
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| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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45
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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saner
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| adj.心智健全的( sane的比较级 )；神志正常的；明智的；稳健的 | |
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47
plodding
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| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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49
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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50
tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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51
entreating
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的现在分词 ) | |
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52
plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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53
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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54
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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55
softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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56
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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57
compassionate
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| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
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58
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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59
martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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60
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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61
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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62
lengthening
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
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63
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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64
creeks
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| n.小湾( creek的名词复数 )；小港；小河；小溪 | |
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65
insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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66
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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67
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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68
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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69
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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70
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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71
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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72
trepidation
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| n.惊恐，惶恐 | |
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73
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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74
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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75
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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76
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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77
squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；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。 | |
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78
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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80
rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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81
scampering
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的现在分词 ) | |
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82
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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83
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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84
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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distended
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| v.（使）膨胀，肿胀( distend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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87
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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88
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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89
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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90
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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alloy
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| n.合金，(金属的)成色 | |
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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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prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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98
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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101
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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102
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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103
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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104
musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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105
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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106
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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107
discoursing
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| 演说（discourse的现在分词形式） | |
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108
rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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109
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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110
fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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111
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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112
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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113
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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114
indirectly
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| adv.间接地，不直接了当地 | |
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115
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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116
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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117
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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118
hooting
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 )； 倒好儿； 倒彩 | |
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119
vibrant
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| adj.震颤的，响亮的，充满活力的，精力充沛的，(色彩)鲜明的 | |
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120
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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121
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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122
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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123
tussle
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| n.&v.扭打，搏斗，争辩 | |
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124
plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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125
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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126
abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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