Then up rose from the hill in the rugged1 Cantabrian valley a sound such as had not been heard in those parts before, nor was again, until the streams which rippled2 amid the rocks had been frozen by over four hundred winters and thawed3 by as many returning springs. Deep and full and strong it thundered down the ravine, the fierce battle-call of a warrior4 race, the last stern welcome to whoso should join with them in that world-old game where the stake is death. Thrice it swelled5 forth6 and thrice it sank away, echoing and reverberating7 amidst the crags. Then, with set faces, the Company rose up among the storm of stones, and looked down upon the thousands who sped swiftly up the slope against them. Horse and spear had been set aside, but on foot, with sword and battle-axe8, their broad shields slung9 in front of them, the chivalry10 of Spain rushed to the attack.
And now arose a struggle so fell, so long, so evenly sustained, that even now the memory of it is handed down amongst the Cantabrian mountaineers and the ill-omened knoll11 is still pointed12 out by fathers to their children as the “Altura de los Inglesos,” where the men from across the sea fought the great fight with the knights13 of the south. The last arrow was quickly shot, nor could the slingers hurl17 their stones, so close were friend and foe18. From side to side stretched the thin line of the English, lightly armed and quick-footed, while against it stormed and raged the pressing throng19 of fiery20 Spaniards and of gallant21 Bretons. The clink of crossing sword-blades, the dull thudding of heavy blows, the panting and gasping22 of weary and wounded men, all rose together in a wild, long-drawn23 note, which swelled upwards24 to the ears of the wondering peasants who looked down from the edges of the cliffs upon the swaying turmoil25 of the battle beneath them. Back and forward reeled the leopard26 banner, now borne up the slope by the rush and weight of the onslaught, now pushing downwards27 again as Sir Nigel, Burley, and Black Simon with their veteran men-at arms, flung themselves madly into the fray28. Alleyne, at his lord's right hand, found himself swept hither and thither29 in the desperate struggle, exchanging savage30 thrusts one instant with a Spanish cavalier, and the next torn away by the whirl of men and dashed up against some new antagonist31. To the right Sir Oliver, Aylward, Hordle John, and the bowmen of the Company fought furiously against the monkish32 Knights of Santiago, who were led up the hill by their prior—a great, deep-chested man, who wore a brown monastic habit over his suit of mail. Three archers34 he slew35 in three giant strokes, but Sir Oliver flung his arms round him, and the two, staggering and straining, reeled backwards36 and fell, locked in each other's grasp, over the edge of the steep cliff which flanked the hill. In vain his knights stormed and raved37 against the thin line which barred their path: the sword of Aylward and the great axe of John gleamed in the forefront of the battle and huge jagged pieces of rock, hurled38 by the strong arms of the bowmen, crashed and hurtled amid their ranks. Slowly they gave back down the hill, the archers still hanging upon their skirts, with a long litter of writhing39 and twisted figures to mark the course which they had taken. At the same instant the Welshmen upon the left, led on by the Scotch40 earl, had charged out from among the rocks which sheltered them, and by the fury of their outfall had driven the Spaniards in front of them in headlong flight down the hill. In the centre only things seemed to be going ill with the defenders41. Black Simon was down—dying, as he would wish to have died, like a grim old wolf in its lair42 with a ring of his slain43 around him. Twice Sir Nigel had been overborne, and twice Alleyne had fought over him until he had staggered to his feet once more. Burley lay senseless, stunned44 by a blow from a mace45, and half of the men-at-arms lay littered upon the ground around him. Sir Nigel's shield was broken, his crest46 shorn, his armor cut and smashed, and the vizor torn from his helmet; yet he sprang hither and thither with light foot and ready hand, engaging two Bretons and a Spaniard at the same instant—thrusting, stooping, dashing in, springing out—while Alleyne still fought by his side, stemming with a handful of men the fierce tide which surged up against them. Yet it would have fared ill with them had not the archers from either side closed in upon the flanks of the attackers, and pressed them very slowly and foot by foot down the long slope, until they were on the plain once more, where their fellows were already rallying for a fresh assault.
But terrible indeed was the cost at which the last had been repelled47. Of the three hundred and seventy men who had held the crest, one hundred and seventy-two were left standing48, many of whom were sorely wounded and weak from loss of blood. Sir Oliver Buttesthorn, Sir Richard Causton, Sir Simon Burley, Black Simon, Johnston, a hundred and fifty archers, and forty-seven men-at-arms had fallen, while the pitiless hail of stones was already whizzing and piping once more about their ears, threatening every instant to further reduce their numbers.
Sir Nigel looked about him at his shattered ranks, and his face flushed with a soldier's pride.
“By St. Paul!” he cried, “I have fought in many a little bickering49, but never one that I would be more loth to have missed than this. But you are wounded, Alleyne?”
“It is nought50,” answered his squire51, stanching52 the blood which dripped from a sword-cut across his forehead.
“These gentlemen of Spain seem to be most courteous53 and worthy54 people. I see that they are already forming to continue this debate with us. Form up the bowmen two deep instead of four. By my faith! some very brave men have gone from among us. Aylward, you are a trusty soldier, for all that your shoulder has never felt accolade55, nor your heels worn the gold spurs. Do you take charge of the right; I will hold the centre, and you, my Lord of Angus, the left.”
“Ho! for Sir Samkin Aylward!” cried a rough voice among the archers, and a roar of laughter greeted their new leader.
“By my hilt!” said the old bowman, “I never thought to lead a wing in a stricken field. Stand close, camarades, for, by these finger-bones! we must play the man this day.”
“Come hither, Alleyne,” said Sir Nigel, walking back to the edge of the cliff which formed the rear of their position. “And you, Norbury,” he continued, beckoning56 to the squire of Sir Oliver, “do you also come here.”
The two squires57 hurried across to him, and the three stood looking down into the rocky ravine which lay a hundred and fifty feet beneath them.
“The prince must hear of how things are with us,” said the knight14. “Another onfall we may withstand, but they are many and we are few, so that the time must come when we can no longer form line across the hill. Yet if help were brought us we might hold the crest until it comes. See yonder horses which stray among the rocks beneath us?”
“I see them, my fair lord.”
“And see yonder path which winds along the hill upon the further end of the valley?”
“I see it.”
“Were you on those horses, and riding up yonder track, steep and rough as it is, I think that ye might gain the valley beyond. Then on to the prince, and tell him how we fare.”
“But, my fair lord, how can we hope to reach the horses?” asked Norbury.
“Ye cannot go round to them, for they would be upon ye ere ye could come to them. Think ye that ye have heart enough to clamber down this cliff?”
“Had we but a rope.”
“There is one here. It is but one hundred feet long, and for the rest ye must trust to God and to your fingers. Can you try it, Alleyne?”
“With all my heart, my dear lord, but how can I leave you in such a strait?”
“Nay, it is to serve me that ye go. And you, Norbury?”
The silent squire said nothing, but he took up the rope, and, having examined it, he tied one end firmly round a projecting rock. Then he cast off his breast-plate, thigh58 pieces, and greaves, while Alleyne followed his example.
“Tell Chandos, or Calverley, or Knolles, should the prince have gone forward,” cried Sir Nigel. “Now may God speed ye, for ye are brave and worthy men.”
It was, indeed, a task which might make the heart of the bravest sink within him. The thin cord dangling59 down the face of the brown cliff seemed from above to reach little more than half-way down it. Beyond stretched the rugged rock, wet and shining, with a green tuft here and there thrusting out from it, but little sign of ridge60 or foothold. Far below the jagged points of the boulders61 bristled63 up, dark and menacing. Norbury tugged65 thrice with all his strength upon the cord, and then lowered himself over the edge, while a hundred anxious faces peered over at him as he slowly clambered downwards to the end of the rope. Twice he stretched out his foot, and twice he failed to reach the point at which he aimed, but even as he swung himself for a third effort a stone from a sling15 buzzed like a wasp66 from amid the rocks and struck him full upon the side of his head. His grasp relaxed, his feet slipped, and in an instant he was a crushed and mangled67 corpse68 upon the sharp ridges69 beneath him.
“If I have no better fortune,” said Alleyne, leading Sir Nigel aside. “I pray you, my dear lord, that you will give my humble70 service to the Lady Maude, and say to her that I was ever her true servant and most unworthy cavalier.”
The old knight said no word, but he put a hand on either shoulder, and kissed his squire, with the tears shining in his eyes. Alleyne sprang to the rope, and sliding swiftly down, soon found himself at its extremity71. From above it seemed as though rope and cliff were well-nigh touching72, but now, when swinging a hundred feet down, the squire found that he could scarce reach the face of the rock with his foot, and that it was as smooth as glass, with no resting-place where a mouse could stand. Some three feet lower, however, his eye lit upon a long jagged crack which slanted73 downwards, and this he must reach if he would save not only his own poor life, but that of the eight-score men above him. Yet it were madness to spring for that narrow slit74 with nought but the wet, smooth rock to cling to. He swung for a moment, full of thought, and even as he hung there another of the hellish stones sang through his curls, and struck a chip from the face of the cliff. Up he clambered a few feet, drew up the loose end after him, unslung his belt, held on with knee and with elbow while he spliced75 the long, tough leathern belt to the end of the cord: then lowering himself as far as he could go, he swung backwards and forwards until his hand reached the crack, when he left the rope and clung to the face of the cliff. Another stone struck him on the side, and he heard a sound like a breaking stick, with a keen stabbing pain which shot through his chest. Yet it was no time now to think of pain or ache. There was his lord and his eight-score comrades, and they must be plucked from the jaws76 of death. On he clambered, with his hand shuffling77 down the long sloping crack, sometimes bearing all his weight upon his arms, at others finding some small shelf or tuft on which to rest his foot. Would he never pass over that fifty feet? He dared not look down and could but grope slowly onwards, his face to the cliff, his fingers clutching, his feet scraping and feeling for a support. Every vein78 and crack and mottling of that face of rock remained forever stamped upon his memory. At last, however, his foot came upon a broad resting-place and he ventured to cast a glance downwards. Thank God! he had reached the highest of those fatal pinnacles80 upon which his comrade had fallen. Quickly now he sprang from rock to rock until his feet were on the ground, and he had his hand stretched out for the horse's rein81, when a sling-stone struck him on the head, and he dropped senseless upon the ground.
An evil blow it was for Alleyne, but a worse one still for him who struck it. The Spanish slinger16, seeing the youth lie slain, and judging from his dress that he was no common man, rushed forward to plunder82 him, knowing well that the bowmen above him had expended83 their last shaft84. He was still three paces, however, from his victim's side when John upon the cliff above plucked up a huge boulder62, and, poising85 it for an instant, dropped it with fatal aim upon the slinger beneath him. It struck upon his shoulder, and hurled him, crushed and screaming, to the ground, while Alleyne, recalled to his senses by these shrill86 cries in his very ear, staggered on to his feet, and gazed wildly about him. His eyes fell upon the horses, grazing upon the scanty87 pasture, and in an instant all had come back to him—his mission, his comrades, the need for haste. He was dizzy, sick, faint, but he must not die, and he must not tarry, for his life meant many lives that day. In an instant he was in his saddle and spurring down the valley. Loud rang the swift charger's hoofs88 over rock and reef, while the fire flew from the stroke of iron, and the loose stones showered up behind him. But his head was whirling round, the blood was gushing89 from his brow, his temple, his mouth. Ever keener and sharper was the deadly pain which shot like a red-hot arrow through his side. He felt that his eye was glazing90, his senses slipping from him, his grasp upon the reins91 relaxing. Then with one mighty92 effort, he called up all his strength for a single minute. Stooping down, he loosened the stirrup-straps, bound his knees tightly to his saddle-flaps, twisted his hands in the bridle93, and then, putting the gallant horse's head for the mountain path, he dashed the spurs in and fell forward fainting with his face buried in the coarse, black mane.
Little could he ever remember of that wild ride. Half conscious, but ever with the one thought beating in his mind, he goaded94 the horse onwards, rushing swiftly down steep ravines over huge boulders, along the edges of black abysses. Dim memories he had of beetling95 cliffs, of a group of huts with wondering faces at the doors, of foaming96, clattering97 water, and of a bristle64 of mountain beeches98. Once, ere he had ridden far, he heard behind him three deep, sullen99 shouts, which told him that his comrades had set their faces to the foe once more. Then all was blank, until he woke to find kindly100 blue English eyes peering down upon him and to hear the blessed sound of his country's speech. They were but a foraging101 party—a hundred archers and as many men-at-arms—but their leader was Sir Hugh Calverley, and he was not a man to bide102 idle when good blows were to be had not three leagues from him. A scout103 was sent flying with a message to the camp, and Sir Hugh, with his two hundred men, thundered off to the rescue. With them went Alleyne, still bound to his saddle, still dripping with blood, and swooning and recovering, and swooning once again. On they rode, and on, until, at last, topping a ridge, they looked down upon the fateful valley. Alas104! and alas! for the sight that met their eyes.
There, beneath them, was the blood-bathed hill, and from the highest pinnacle79 there flaunted105 the yellow and white banner with the lions and the towers of the royal house of Castile. Up the long slope rushed ranks and ranks of men exultant106, shouting, with waving pennons and brandished107 arms. Over the whole summit were dense108 throngs109 of knights, with no enemy that could be seen to face them, save only that at one corner of the plateau an eddy110 and swirl111 amid the crowded mass seemed to show that all resistance was not yet at an end. At the sight a deep groan112 of rage and of despair went up from the baffled rescuers, and, spurring on their horses, they clattered113 down the long and winding114 path which led to the valley beneath.
But they were too late to avenge115, as they had been too late to save. Long ere they could gain the level ground, the Spaniards, seeing them riding swiftly amid the rocks, and being ignorant of their numbers, drew off from the captured hill, and, having secured their few prisoners, rode slowly in a long column, with drum-beating and cymbal-clashing, out of the valley. Their rear ranks were already passing out of sight ere the new-comers were urging their panting, foaming horses up the slope which had been the scene of that long drawn and bloody116 fight.
And a fearsome sight it was that met their eyes! Across the lower end lay the dense heap of men and horses where the first arrow-storm had burst. Above, the bodies of the dead and the dying—French, Spanish, and Aragonese—lay thick and thicker, until they covered the whole ground two and three deep in one dreadful tangle117 of slaughter118. Above them lay the Englishmen in their lines, even as they had stood, and higher yet upon the plateau a wild medley119 of the dead of all nations, where the last deadly grapple had left them. In the further corner, under the shadow of a great rock, there crouched120 seven bowmen, with great John in the centre of them—all wounded, weary, and in sorry case, but still unconquered, with their blood-stained weapons waving and their voices ringing a welcome to their countrymen. Alleyne rode across to John, while Sir Hugh Calverley followed close behind him.
“By Saint George!” cried Sir Hugh, “I have never seen signs of so stern a fight, and I am right glad that we have been in time to save you.”
“You have saved more than us,” said John, pointing to the banner which leaned against the rock behind him.
“You have done nobly,” cried the old free companion, gazing with a soldier's admiration121 at the huge frame and bold face of the archer33. “But why is it, my good fellow, that you sit upon this man.”
“By the rood! I had forgot him,” John answered, rising and dragging from under him no less a person than the Spanish caballero, Don Diego Alvarez. “This man, my fair lord, means to me a new house, ten cows, one bull—if it be but a little one—a grindstone, and I know not what besides; so that I thought it well to sit upon him, lest he should take a fancy to leave me.”
“Tell me, John,” cried Alleyne faintly: “where is my dear lord, Sir Nigel Loring?”
“He is dead, I fear. I saw them throw his body across a horse and ride away with it, but I fear the life had gone from him.”
“Now woe122 worth me! And where is Aylward?”
“He sprang upon a riderless horse and rode after Sir Nigel to save him. I saw them throng around him, and he is either taken or slain.”
“Blow the bugles123!” cried Sir Hugh, with a scowling124 brow. “We must back to camp, and ere three days I trust that we may see these Spaniards again. I would fain have ye all in my company.”
“We are of the White Company, my fair lord,” said John.
“Nay, the White Company is here disbanded,” answered Sir Hugh solemnly, looking round him at the lines of silent figures. “Look to the brave squire, for I fear that he will never see the sun rise again.”
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1
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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thawed
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| 解冻 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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reverberating
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| 回响，回荡( reverberate的现在分词 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
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8
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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knoll
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| n.小山，小丘 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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sling
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| vt.扔；悬挂；n.挂带；吊索，吊兜；弹弓 | |
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slinger
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| 投石者，吊物工人； 吊索 | |
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hurl
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| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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leopard
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| n.豹 | |
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downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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antagonist
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| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
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monkish
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| adj.僧侣的，修道士的，禁欲的 | |
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archer
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| n.射手，弓箭手 | |
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archers
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| n.弓箭手，射箭运动员( archer的名词复数 ) | |
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slew
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| v.（使）旋转；n.大量，许多 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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raved
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| v.胡言乱语( rave的过去式和过去分词 )；愤怒地说；咆哮；痴心地说 | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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defenders
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| n.防御者( defender的名词复数 )；守卫者；保护者；辩护者 | |
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lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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mace
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| n.狼牙棒，豆蔻干皮 | |
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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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47
repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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48
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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49
bickering
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| v.争吵( bicker的现在分词 )；口角；（水等）作潺潺声；闪烁 | |
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50
nought
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| n.／adj.无，零 | |
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51
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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52
stanching
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| v.使（伤口）止血( stanch的现在分词 )；止（血）；使不漏；使不流失 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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54
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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55
accolade
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| n.推崇备至，赞扬 | |
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56
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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57
squires
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| n.地主，乡绅( squire的名词复数 ) | |
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58
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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59
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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60
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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61
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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62
boulder
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| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
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63
bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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64
bristle
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| v.（毛发）直立，气势汹汹，发怒；n.硬毛发 | |
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65
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
wasp
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| n.黄蜂，蚂蜂 | |
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67
mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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68
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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69
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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70
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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71
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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72
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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73
slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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74
slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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75
spliced
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| adj.（针织品）加固的n.叠接v.绞接( splice的过去式和过去分词 )；捻接（两段绳子）；胶接；粘接（胶片、磁带等） | |
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76
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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77
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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78
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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79
pinnacle
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| n.尖塔，尖顶，山峰；(喻)顶峰 | |
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80
pinnacles
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| 顶峰( pinnacle的名词复数 )； 顶点； 尖顶； 小尖塔 | |
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81
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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82
plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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83
expended
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| v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
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84
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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85
poising
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| 使平衡( poise的现在分词 )； 保持（某种姿势）； 抓紧； 使稳定 | |
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86
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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87
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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88
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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89
gushing
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| adj.迸出的；涌出的；喷出的；过分热情的v.喷，涌( gush的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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glazing
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| n.玻璃装配业；玻璃窗；上釉；上光v.装玻璃( glaze的现在分词 )；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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91
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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93
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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goaded
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| v.刺激( goad的过去式和过去分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
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95
beetling
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| adj.突出的，悬垂的v.快速移动( beetle的现在分词 ) | |
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96
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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97
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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98
beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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99
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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100
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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101
foraging
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| v.搜寻（食物），尤指动物觅（食）( forage的现在分词 )；（尤指用手）搜寻（东西） | |
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102
bide
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| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
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103
scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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104
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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105
flaunted
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| v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的过去式和过去分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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106
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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107
brandished
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| v.挥舞( brandish的过去式和过去分词 )；炫耀 | |
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108
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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109
throngs
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| n.人群( throng的名词复数 )v.成群，挤满( throng的第三人称单数 ) | |
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110
eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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111
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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112
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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113
clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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114
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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115
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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116
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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117
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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118
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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119
medley
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| n.混合 | |
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120
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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121
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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122
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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123
bugles
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| 妙脆角，一种类似薯片但做成尖角或喇叭状的零食； 号角( bugle的名词复数 )； 喇叭； 匍匐筋骨草； （装饰女服用的）柱状玻璃（或塑料）小珠 | |
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124
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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