I SAT and gazed round that little lonely homestead by the shore-side at Naraundrau. The scent6 of the jungle blooms and dead grass crept into my nostrils7 as soft winds came up from the sea, blew in at the small doorway8 and fell asleep in the leafy hollows. Opposite the doorway, by his broken coloured-glass window, sat the missionary to whom Mabau had appealed. He had already given her his advice.
He was a venerable-looking old man, with earnest, sunken grey eyes. As his aged9, bearded lips moved, and he spoke10 in a sensitive, musical voice, I at once felt a liking11 for him, and I seemed to be back in the days of an age that had long since passed away. For this lonely old missionary was the sole survivor12 of the first white men who had exiled themselves from their native lands with the one intense motive13 only in their hearts—to endeavour to preach the word of Christ and better the conditions of heathen lands. No ambition in his mind had craved14 for recognition; he had done his day’s work, and there, weighed down with years, he waited sadly, yet patiently, the last act of life’s drama, the call of his Creator, to whose service he had devoted15 his earnest existence. He died, quite unknown to men on earth, for if men do not strive for fame it seldom will come to them, unless they do not deserve it.
“Father,” I said respectfully, “I heard of you from Mabau, the native girl who sorrows over her faithless lover, and since hearing of you it has been my wish to meet you, and here I am.”
Hearing my answer, the old man looked intently at me, and to my great pleasure I saw that I had impressed him favourably17. “Art thou hungry, lad?” he said. “No, not hungry, but I am exceedingly thirsty, Father,” I answered; and at that he at once brought out, from a little wooden cupboard by his side two coco-nuts, and with trembling fingers pierced the holes with a screw. Very thankful I was as I drank off a tin pannikin full to the brim of the refreshing19 fruit milk. After that I felt much refreshed and more at my ease, as I talked to my host.
At his bidding I took my violin from its case and played the Ah che la morte from Il Trovatore to him. As the strain died away, and silently I laid the fiddle20 down, he crossed his hands over his breast and sat in the gloom, for night was falling fast. He looked like an old, grey-bearded apostle carved in stone as he sat there.
“My son, thou playest well, and I am thankful for thy visit,” he murmured; and I was touched and highly pleased, for deep in my heart I suddenly felt a tenderness for the lonely old missionary. I saw by the way he crossed his hands that he was a Roman Catholic. I am a Protestant by birthright, but his sincerity21 made me feel more attached to his denomination22 than my own.
As night fell and the stars came out he became more talkative and unburdened himself to me, a fact which I always remember with pride, for he would not have done so if he had not felt instinctively23 that my heart was in sympathy with his.
Rising and lighting24 an old oil lamp, he stood it on the window-shelf, and its faint flicker25 lit up his room. In the corner was a sleeping-mat, for he slept on the floor in native fashion. His furniture consisted of two wooden stools, a small bench table and a few cooking utensils26. Outside the door in a cage was a large grey parrot; it looked as old as its master, was almost featherless and seldom spoke. But now and again it would gaze sideways at me and without opening its tuneless beak28 say in a sepulchral29 voice, “Good-bye, good-bye,” as though it were jealous of my conversation with its lonely master. It was a wise old bird, mistrusted strangers and realised that old age could be tempted30 and led away from old friendships by the voice of youth.
As we sat there together the moon came out and shone brilliantly over the sea, outdoing the dimness of his oil lamp; so brightly did it shine over the palms that one could easily have read ordinary print.
Taking an old flute31 down, he started to play upon it, and then with a sigh laid it back on the shelf and asked me if I should care to stay the night. “Yes,” I immediately answered. We went out and strolled in the moonlight, and he told me much of Fiji in the old days. Though he was a poor and aged man, with only the moonlit forest flowers as his friends, flowers that would some day blossom over his fast-dissolving dust, the largess of his sincere heart, all that he told me, has been vast wealth to my memories through the years, and his dead voice has haunted my dreams at times.
He too told me of Thakambau; he had known him in his worst days, and spoke with the famous warrior32 king when he had at length, after many councils with his chiefs, decided33 to embrace Christianity.
As we strolled under the straight-stemmed palms the silvered moonlit waves splashed over the coral reefs below, and across the waters, like a weird34 shadow, passed a canoe filled with singing natives.
“Who sleeps there?” I asked him as we passed a mound35 of earth whereon was a cross half hidden in drala weed. He told me that it was the grave of a white man who had left a ship at Viti Levu and had become attached to the wife of a notable chief. The chief discovered them together by the shore, and after a terrible battle, the white man with a rifle-butt and the chief with a club, the white man fell mortally wounded. In the struggle the native wife was shot dead, and her spirit, the natives say, was carried on wings of fire up through the trees towards the stars that light the shores of that heathen land which was ruled by Mburotu. The missionary told me that he crept through the forest and with his own hands dug a grave under the pandanus palms for the slain37 body of the white man, and night after night he came and prayed fervently38 over the man of his race, asking God to forgive and grant to his soul salvation39.
I was much impressed as he told me these things, and also by seeing how, as we walked along, he would tenderly bend and touch the tall flowers with his lips. “Under them sleeps the child I loved, or the chief who fell in some bloody40 tribal41 fight,” he would say; and he told me also that often in the Fijian wilds men, women and children were buried in spots known only to those who loved and buried them.
That same night as we walked along the narrow track by the shore-side at Naraundrau the aged missionary took me gently by the arm and, turning up the inland track, we stood by a native’s conical-shaped hut. In it sat an old, almost blind chief, the half-brother of Vakambau, a great warrior who was dead. It appeared that he loved the missionary, and though he would not give up his heathen faith had, owing to the supplications of my host, half embraced Christianity.
It was the habit of the Father to call night after night and pray with the old heathen chief before he slept. I felt very strange as I stood watching the white man and the old Fijian kneeling side by side praying, while three old women squatting42 in the corner of the den18 gazed on silently, as though they were carved stone images. They were his servants; being of Fijian royal blood, he would not move himself. Often as he sat there he imperiously pointed43 to a stone flask44 wherein was some yangona,[16] and at once the slaves of royalty45, with machine-like swiftness, filled a stone bowl and held it to his lips. Suddenly starting up, he rushed to the den door and gazed up at the trees, shouting, “Wai, wai, taho mi,” then waved his arms, lifted his chin towards the stars and called to the memory of dead warriors46 and comrades dead with heathen gods. As the Pacific wind sighed softly through the giant backa-trees he bowed his head reverently47, for to him so answered the gods.
16. Native wine made from a root.
I stayed that night with the missionary, and the next day and night also, and heard many strange things. Beautiful were some of the legends of the forest children that my host told me. The stars were the eyes of the fiercer gods, and the falling stars the bright tears of the powerful Muburto and Nedengi’s warriors. Fijian maidens48 and youths prayed to the eyes of shadow-land, and if, as their impassioned lips met, a star fell and arched over them in the vault50 of night, great was their sorrow, for a god had shed a tear over the grief that would befall the life of the first-born. But if, ere the lovers said farewell, more stars fell, great was their rejoicing, for it was a sign that other gods were pleading to the greater god to stay the evil that was predestined by the first star that burst out of the dark soul of evil Destiny. So, notwithstanding heathenism and the gruesome cannibalistic customs of the old times, much innocence52 and poetry softened53 the hearts of the wild native children of those dim lands. It was a common sight by night in the shade of the coco-palms to see love-sick maids in the arms of the Fijian youths, gazing at the skies, yearning54 for the sight of the vast gods shedding starry55 tears on their behalf, and often great was their delight to find the foretold56 grief to their first-born overthrown58 by the power of other gods. Then the innocent maids gave themselves, body and soul, to the infatuated, delighted youths, and fell with the falling of the stars! When the stars on windy nights twinkled fiercely through the wailing59 boughs60 of the bending forest giants, lovers gazed heavenward anxiously, for to them the glimmering61 stars were the tiny bright legs of their unborn children running happily across the fields of paradise. Often, too, sorrowing mothers would peer up for hours on those windy, starlit nights, as they watched their dead children’s bright legs twinkling as they ran laughing over the forest trees in the far-off fields of shadow-land.
As I heard these beliefs of the forest I thought of Mabau, and wondered whether, while she was in the arms of Vituo, the stars had fallen, and in her poetic62 faith she had given herself to him; and I saw that though the native legends were beautiful, it was sad for the maids; for the stars foretold many things that did not come to pass, and mythology, when applied63 to morals, brought much sorrow to those that loved.
The aged missionary spoke the language like a native and so, through mixing with the remnants of his old flock for years, isolated64 as he was, knew all their ways and their passions and aspirations65. He told me that the mythology and religions of the South Seas revealed, through their poetic, heathen expression, much that was “new thought” in modern Europe, and that all those things which the great minds of my country had discussed and the nobleness they had overthrown by their doctrine66 of the “survival of the fittest,” a doctrine bringing the whole creed67 of self-sacrifice and bravery down to selfish motives68, had been discussed and expressed in mythology and heathen song by the cannibalistic bards69 and philosophical70 savages71 at the bokai feasts of those heathen lands.
Lands where maidens gave their lives for their lovers, and wives for their husbands, for it had been the custom that when a chief died his wife should be buried alive with him; and so strong was the faith of these people that they met their terrible end bravely, and sang death songs, which could be heard faint and muffled73 as the tombstone closed over them. It was even then the custom of maids to die and be buried with their dead lovers, their belief being that they appeared before the gods as they died. Those who thought themselves young and beautiful sacrificed themselves, so that in spirit-land they might be ever young and fortunate in their love affairs. Often I saw skeletons in caves, which were the remains74 of old age; they had been strangled by their relatives to avoid further trouble from the complainings of their infirmities.
On the night preceding my last day with the old missionary Mabau, the native girl, came to him as sunset was fading over the seas. As the shadows crept and thickened around the hermit75’s home a noise of naked feet in the jungle grass disturbed us. A gentle tap at the door revealed Mabau’s dusky face. I understood little that she said, for she spoke in her own language to my host, but I saw by her eyes and trembling lips that she was sorely troubled. After hearing the Father’s advice she became calmer, and falling on her knees kissed his extended hand and bearded face as a child would kiss its father; then, without speaking a word, she ran off swiftly into the forest.
The old missionary asked me many questions as to where I was staying, upon which I told him of Mr Bones. Hearing this, he gravely shook his head and scanned me solemnly. “You look an honest lad and well able to take care of yourself,” he said; and then I explained to him how I had left my ship at S—— because I could not stand a drunken crew, and that was the true reason for my accepting the Organization’s hospitality. From him I heard that a week or so before I arrived a fugitive76 had appeared at the Organization and the second day after had shot himself. Bones had hastily called on the Father, who delivered the Sacrament to the dying man, who, ere his breath ceased, made his confession77. The Father did not reveal the facts to me, but I heard them from the lips of a high-caste Fijian with whom I stayed between my visits to the Organization’s shanty78. For after the first few days I only called upon Mr Bones as a visitor, taken there through my adventurous79 spirit, and for the novelty of associating with old villains80 and seeing the sad fugitives81 who arrived from the far-off cities of the world.
That night as I lay by my hermit host I watched him as he quietly slept on his sleeping-mat; moonlight streamed through the tiny window hole and revealed his careworn82, bearded face. Still as death he lay as the breeze crept into the open door and stirred the few grey hairs above his lofty brow. The beating of the seas on the shore sounded at intervals83 and died away; the shadow leaves of the palms outside moved gently over the wooden moonlit walls, over his grey-bearded face and crossed hands. I felt that I was back in the Middle Ages, in some mysterious medi?val monastery84, instead of in that heathen land of dying crime and bloodthirsty cannibalism85, where but a few years before Thakambau, the warrior king, who now lay in the grave not far off at Bau, sailed forth86 from the creeks87 below to give battle to rival kings, accompanied by his armada of outrigged canoes. As I dreamed I heard the restless seas below, I saw those primitive88 fleets of canoes fading in the sunset, filled with dark, savage72, patriotic89 faces, and the stalwart cannibal king leaning on his war-club and gazing proudly as he stood eyeing the canoes of his warriors paddling along to meet the tribal foe90. It was almost unbelievable how swiftly change, through the coming of the white men, had overthrown the cannibalistic festivals and heathen customs: at Levuka, Viti Levu and Suva church spires91 were rising where the bokai feast and fierce songs once broke the silence; from native homes now come the strumming of cheap German pianos and lotu songs sung by mouths that a few years before had eaten those they had loved.
At daybreak Father Anster, the old missionary, rose and prepared breakfast, after which he took his flute from the shelf and played one tune27 over and over again continually; and the old featherless parrot in the cage tried desperately92 to repeat the notes through its tuneless beak and, to tell the truth, made as much mess of the melody as my host did; for though he had music in his soul, his lips were unable to express it. There he sat, holding the flute to his aged lips and blowing away; and though I know he must now be dead, hallowed dust somewhere near that spot where I saw him years ago, still I can see him sitting by his little doorway, and see the kind look in his eyes as I bade him farewell and passed away into the forest, with the thought and promise to see him again in a few days.
As I strolled along under the palms and big tropical trees I fell into deep thought; everything was silent, except a few birds singing to the sunset, which they could spy from the topmost boughs whereon they sat. Suddenly I was startled by hearing a noise, and crossing the gullies I went down a steep slope and peeped through the jungle thickets93 of bamboo beneath the coco-palms to see what was about, and there, romping94 in the deep fern grass, was a flock of naked native children, tiny wild faces, boys and girls. As I watched my foot slipped. In a moment they all looked up and their bright eyes spied me. Like a drove of rabbits off they bolted, their little brown shoulders and tossing heads of frizzly hair just reaching the fern-tops as they raced away and faded in the distant forest gloom, frightened out of their lives. A stream of sunset out seaward crept through the wind-blown forest boughs and glinted over them as they ran, till they looked like tiny wood-elves racing95 across fairyland! I never saw such a pretty sight. In fun I ran after them, and two little stragglers left behind, seeing me run, screamed; then through the bushes in front of me suddenly poked96 the heads of mop-haired mothers and fierce dark men. I had come across a native village!
At first I felt a bit frightened; but as soon as those wild-blooded parents saw my white face and youthful look they smiled, for their instincts are swift and true. I stepped into the village, and soon we were all good comrades. It was there that I met a missionary who lived not far off, and was adviser97 and preacher to the native village. He was a good man at heart, but extremely bigoted98, and when I asked him about Father Anster he yawned and evaded99 my questions, told me that he was considered a mild kind of lunatic. I did not argue the point, but nevertheless I saw the way the wind blew and thought a good deal. I realised there was no love lost between my old host and the new missionaries100, who did not care for hermits101 who toiled102 and lived completely by themselves.
The hot season was at its height, and not till the sun had set and the sea winds gently blew over the isle103 did I feel comfortable. One is forcibly reminded when travelling in the South Sea Isles104 that the natives in complete undress are utilising their own skins to the best advantage: often I envied them their scanty105 sulu (loin-cloth), as my white duck trousers and shirt flopped106 and steamed with perspiration107 as I sweated onwards. I stayed for several hours at the village I had stumbled across. Round the native huts the evening fires blazed as squatting by stone bowls the families ate their supper; dipping their fingers into the steaming mixture, they pushed worm-like stuff into their dark mouths. The toothless old chiefs and mothers were waited on by the children, who often sulkily helped them, hastily pushing what looked like long white worms, that hung from the aged mouths, in between the mumbling108 lips.
Close by, in one of the conical, thatched dens49, loudly wailed109 a windy harmonium, played by a young aspirant110 for musical fame. The selling of harmoniums in the South Seas in those days was a paying business: a native would work for three years on a plantation111, without wages, to possess one of those instruments of torture, and a family that possessed112 one obtained a social distinction equal to the Order of the Bath in Great Britain. It was the celebrated113 High Chief Volka who owned this particular terrible thing.
While the huddled114 natives chattered115 and gorged116 over their calabashes of hot mystery this chief led me round and proudly showed me the sights. Sunset had died, and the stars were beginning to peep through the dusky velvet117 blue skies that could be seen in many patches above the scattered118 waveless palms and banyan-trees. Chief Volka was a true survival of the barbaric age, six feet in height, scarred and tattooed119 from his brow to his knees. He had lost one eye in battle, and the other, through double use, bulged120 considerably121. Leading me into his ancestral halls—three thatched rooms—he stood beside me, as his mop-head touched the low roof, and pointed to a ponderous122 war-club that hung on the wooden wall. Round it was a grim collection of spear-headed weapons. Standing51 by my side, with his shoulders majestically123 lifted and his chest blown out, he proudly told me of the wounds that implement124 had inflicted125, and of the many lives it had, with sudden force, sent hastily to heathen-land. His one eye flashed with revived memories, and then that old veteran of some past Fijian Waterloo told me how his civilised tribe had exterminated126 the uncivilised foe in a mighty127 battle, and of the benefit the great victory had conferred upon humanity. For did not the victory overthrow57 tribal men who ate their wounded on holy days?—thus angering the gods by not keeping them in pickle128 till the Fijian Lent had passed!
He stood there, drawn129 up to his full height, his shrivelled but erstwhile muscular arm outstretched, as he told me of the overthrow of tribes on neighbouring isles who had aspired130 to dominate the whole Fijian Group by militarism. With forgivable pride he took down the huge club that had brought the ambitious leader of the hated hordes131 to the earth with a smashed skull132. It was a mighty weapon, and the bare-skinned youth beside him gazed upon it with awestruck eyes as I said: “And what happened after that victory?” “We had ten years of great peace, many feasts and many wives, and our gods were pleased till came your race and overthrew133 them.” And then he continued in this wise: “Alas, our great civilisation has passed away; revered134 customs, creeds135 and mighty histories of my race are forgotten with the old winds. Ah, your white race tramples136 on our old dynasty of supreme137 goodness!”
I gazed silently as he spoke and wondered much, for I knew that the foundation of civilisation, and all that is called best, is built on man’s attempt to ward36 off impending138 disaster. As I thought I wondered how much wisdom lay in his natural vanity, for the warriors of old had died out and the new race looked cute, flabby, and quite devoid139 of energy. Outside old men and youths smacked140 their lips and grunted141 as they nibbled142 coco-nuts and chewed tobacco; the grandees143 drank new rum, and the old women and maids of fashion whispered scandal and scratched their mop-heads delicately with one outstretched finger.
Brilliantly the moon shone through the forest trees as I strolled from scene to scene of that South Sea village. By tiny camp fires sat the elder members of the various households; the little children were fast asleep by them on small mats. Some gazed into the fire ash, spat144 and chewed, others chatted, and on the hill-side sat several groups singing softly so as not to awaken145 the sleepers146. They were strange, weird melodies that I listened to; and as I stood alone in the shadows I knew that I heard in those primeval wails147 of joy and sorrow the youthful voice of music and poetry as it was ere it attained148 the artificial development expressed in Europe, tricked out and dressed in all the artistries to suit applauding conventionality. Old women wailed songs that told of dead children, dead husbands or lovers, and all the many griefs that flesh is heir to. I think the sad old missionary with whom I had stayed had awakened149 in me a note of deeper thought than was usual in my reflection. On my memory are still vividly150 engraved151 the scenes of that night; the moonlight over the trees, the stars and the squatting groups of the village natives are all still mine, and the atmosphere is as clear as, yet somewhat sadder than, of yore, like a melody heard again, after many years, in another country. I seemed to know that the wild life and scenery round me was similar to the embryo152 life of modern civilisation; and there was something real and innocent in that Fijian Arabian night that made the modern world of life look intensely vapid153. I still see the women of Fijian fashion, with their legs outstretched before the dying fires, each attired154 in some sailor’s cast-off undershirt or a portion of a white woman’s garment. Some strutted155 under the palms and gazed almost disdainfully upon maidens and mothers who only wore the native grass-weaved sulu. I knew that I gazed upon the first leaders of Fijian fashionable society, society that has reached the zenith of vanity in Europe. I saw budding knighthoods fanning flies and mosquitoes from the high chief’s oily body. His eyelids156 blinked approval as the aspirants157 to royal favour lifted his fat feet, which rested on a little mat, and blew their cooling breath on them.
Poor relations carried refuse in large stone bowls to the village cesspool. Pet mongrel dogs snapped at the hovering158 ring of flies and sniffed159 at the stench as they passed it, whilst the rich relations lolled under the sunlit tropic palms. At the far end of the village, on a stump160, stood the fanatic161, shouting in Fijian, “Taho-ai-Oa,” and shrieking162 and stamping to entice163 the straggling villagers to come to his special mission class. Swarthy Solomon Islanders and Indians with brilliant dark eyes gazed at the maids. Under the palms sat the full-lipped youth, Lota-Mio; oblivious164 of all around him, he toiled on with his rusty165 nail, carving166 on a sea-shell the outlines of a maiden’s face; the work revealed wonderful talent. Maidens and youths embraced and gazed with shining eyes at each other as the shaggy-headed Fijian poet pointed to the evening star imaged in the still lagoon167, for it shone in the fairyland of still waters. They peered over the water’s brink168 and wondered to see their dark faces under the imaged trees that were upside down; then the branches stirred as the mirrored winds blew in the water and their imaged faces broke up and disappeared!
I got the old chief to see me safely on the road home; for though I trusted the Fijians, I did not like the look of the imported Indians, who crept about the village selling sham169 jewellery and tempting170 the maids with trifles and trinkets. They were stealthy-looking men, dark and masterful in appearance. Their creeds were slowly overthrowing171 Christianity, for the natives were weak, and Mohammedanism was more in harmony with their secret cravings and requirements. Also the colour of the turbaned teachers matched their own skins. White men can hardly blame the childish Fijians for embracing Mohammedanism as readily as they turned to Christianity, for in London town the Islamic creed is being preached and is finding numerous adherents172, gathered from the so-called high-class Christians173, who gain greater comfort from Mahomet than from the sorrow of Calvary.
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1
legendary
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| adj.传奇（中）的，闻名遐迩的；n.传奇（文学） | |
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mythology
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| n.神话，神话学，神话集 | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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7
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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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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11
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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survivor
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| n.生存者，残存者，幸存者 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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craved
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| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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favourably
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| adv. 善意地，赞成地 =favorably | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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denomination
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| n.命名，取名，(度量衡、货币等的)单位 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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sepulchral
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| adj.坟墓的，阴深的 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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31
flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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32
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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33
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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34
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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35
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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36
ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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37
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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38
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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39
salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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40
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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41
tribal
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| adj.部族的，种族的 | |
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42
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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43
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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44
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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45
royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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46
warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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47
reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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48
maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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49
dens
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| n.牙齿，齿状部分；兽窝( den的名词复数 )；窝点；休息室；书斋 | |
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50
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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51
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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52
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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53
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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54
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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55
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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56
foretold
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| v.预言，预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
overthrow
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| v.推翻，打倒，颠覆；n.推翻，瓦解，颠覆 | |
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58
overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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59
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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60
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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61
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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62
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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63
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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64
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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65
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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66
doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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67
creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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68
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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69
bards
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| n.诗人( bard的名词复数 ) | |
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70
philosophical
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| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
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71
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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72
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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73
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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74
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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75
hermit
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| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
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76
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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77
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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78
shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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79
adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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80
villains
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| n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 )；罪犯；（小说、戏剧等中的）反面人物；淘气鬼 | |
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81
fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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82
careworn
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| adj.疲倦的，饱经忧患的 | |
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83
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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84
monastery
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| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
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85
cannibalism
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| n.同类相食；吃人肉 | |
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86
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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87
creeks
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| n.小湾( creek的名词复数 )；小港；小河；小溪 | |
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88
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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89
patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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90
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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91
spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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92
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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93
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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94
romping
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| adj.嬉戏喧闹的，乱蹦乱闹的v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的现在分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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95
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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96
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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97
adviser
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| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
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98
bigoted
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| adj.固执己见的，心胸狭窄的 | |
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99
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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100
missionaries
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| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
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101
hermits
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| （尤指早期基督教的）隐居修道士，隐士，遁世者( hermit的名词复数 ) | |
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102
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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103
isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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104
isles
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| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
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105
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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106
flopped
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| v.（指书、戏剧等）彻底失败( flop的过去式和过去分词 )；（因疲惫而）猛然坐下；（笨拙地、不由自主地或松弛地）移动或落下；砸锅 | |
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107
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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108
mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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109
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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110
aspirant
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| n.热望者；adj.渴望的 | |
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111
plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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112
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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113
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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114
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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115
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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116
gorged
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| v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的过去式和过去分词 )；作呕 | |
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117
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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118
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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119
tattooed
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| v.刺青，文身( tattoo的过去式和过去分词 )；连续有节奏地敲击；作连续有节奏的敲击 | |
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120
bulged
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| 凸出( bulge的过去式和过去分词 )； 充满； 塞满（某物） | |
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121
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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122
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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123
majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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124
implement
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| n.(pl.)工具，器具；vt.实行，实施，执行 | |
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125
inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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126
exterminated
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| v.消灭，根绝( exterminate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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127
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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128
pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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129
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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130
aspired
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| v.渴望，追求( aspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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131
hordes
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| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
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132
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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133
overthrew
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| overthrow的过去式 | |
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134
revered
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| v.崇敬，尊崇，敬畏( revere的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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135
creeds
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| （尤指宗教）信条，教条( creed的名词复数 ) | |
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136
tramples
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| 踩( trample的第三人称单数 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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137
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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138
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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139
devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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140
smacked
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| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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141
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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142
nibbled
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的过去式和过去分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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143
grandees
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| n.贵族，大公，显贵者( grandee的名词复数 ) | |
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144
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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145
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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146
sleepers
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| n.卧铺（通常以复数形式出现）；卧车( sleeper的名词复数 )；轨枕；睡觉（呈某种状态）的人；小耳环 | |
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147
wails
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| 痛哭，哭声( wail的名词复数 ) | |
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148
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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149
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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150
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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151
engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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152
embryo
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| n.胚胎，萌芽的事物 | |
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153
vapid
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| adj.无味的；无生气的 | |
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154
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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155
strutted
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| 趾高气扬地走，高视阔步( strut的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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156
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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157
aspirants
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| n.有志向或渴望获得…的人( aspirant的名词复数 )v.渴望的，有抱负的，追求名誉或地位的( aspirant的第三人称单数 )；有志向或渴望获得…的人 | |
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158
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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159
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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160
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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161
fanatic
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| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
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162
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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163
entice
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| v.诱骗，引诱，怂恿 | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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166
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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167
lagoon
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| n.泻湖，咸水湖 | |
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168
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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169
sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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170
tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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171
overthrowing
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| v.打倒，推翻( overthrow的现在分词 )；使终止 | |
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172
adherents
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| n.支持者，拥护者( adherent的名词复数 )；党羽；徒子徒孙 | |
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Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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