Of this fair land the reins,—
Why does the stranger’s sword her plains invest,
That her green fields be dyed?”
Petrarch.
"H
ERE’S another snob4 trying to get us all cashiered! Confound those beastly newspapers,—just my luck!” exclaims an elderly and rather handsome man, who, sitting before his office table, has just opened an important-looking letter, headed with the royal arms printed in red ink.
“Just my confounded luck. Just at this time too, of all others, when my application to be appointed Protector of Aboriginals7 for the district must just have reached the chief. Now I wonder what Mrs. Bigger will say if I don’t166 get this extra salary as Protector, for I can’t send Jane down south to school, as I promised, if I don’t get more than my present pay, that’s certain.”
The blue-paper letter that has occasioned Inspector8 Bigger of the N. M. Police so much vexation—for it is this well-known gentleman who now sits nervously9 rubbing his eyeglass in the little hot office of the barracks—is dated from the bureau of the Superintendent11 of Police, Brisbane, and runs as follows:—
“June 4th, 1889.
“John Bigger, Esq., Inspector of N. M. Police for Townsend Barracks, Werandowera District.
“The Colonial Secretary having requested the Commissioner12 of Police to supply him with such information as lies in his power, concerning the truthfulness13 of an occurrence of which the enclosed newspaper article (which appeared in a recent issue of the ‘Northern Miner’) purports14 to be an account, I am directed to desire you to communicate immediately with this Office upon the subject.
“I am, sir,
“P. P. Commissioner of Police,
“Harry Stocrat.”
The following is a reprint of the newspaper cutting which flutters to the floor on the letter being opened:—
“Close to Townsend, a reliable correspondent informs, the following lately took place:—
“At a mining camp where nothing had been stolen by the natives for months, three natives ran by a miner’s tent 167 one evening. Going into town next day, the said miner mentioned this, but did not ask for assistance. The neighbouring sergeant16 of Black Police with four boys, however, appears at the camp in a few days. As night falls the light of a native camp-fire is sparkling away on a mountain range some four miles off. No one knows or cares if these particular natives had committed the crime of running by a miner’s tent. Taking a ‘boy’ by the shoulder, the sergeant points out the fire, and soon after the four troopers steal off into the gloom, armed to the teeth, and naked save for their cartridge-belts. The sergeant remains18 behind, and in about an hour and a half the sound of nine shots coming rapidly one after another is heard. Presently the ‘boys’ again appear with spears and dilly-bags, and tell, amongst other horrid19 details, that they have despatched ‘plenty fellow pickaninnie’ with their tomahawks.”
The Inspector’s little office occupies half of a small weather-board erection, which is so crazy from the attacks of white ants (termites) that it can hardly support its hot, galvanised-iron roof. A rough wooden bookcase occupies one wall, standing20 on a rusty21 iron tray, which is generally kept supplied with water to defend this article of furniture from the same insect foes22 that are fast destroying the joints23 and studs of the building. On its dirty shelves a number of dusty law-books, blue summons papers, and the like, repose24 in picturesque25 disorder26.
On either side of the single window of the apartment hangs a cat-o’-nine-tails,—one for the use of the refractory27 “boys” of the corps28, and manufactured of plain leather thongs29; the other having the narrow lengths of hide decorated with swan-shot artistically30 fastened to the cruel tongues with whipcord. This more complicated 168 instrument is used for such cases as refractory native witnesses, when a murderer has to be discovered, and has also visited many of the stations round on loan to squatters who are anxious to instil32 the beauties of civilization into the bosoms33 (and backs) of those of their native slaves who are desirous of escaping from their bondage34. A number of handcuffs and leg-irons, and a few racing35 pictures, spotted36 to indistinctness by the last summer’s plague of flies, decorate the walls; and behind Inspector Bigger’s chair is a rack of Snider carbines, whilst a pair of loaded, long-barrelled “Colts” lie on the pigeon-holed letter rack before him on the table, which occupies the centre of the room.
“Now what shall I do about this, I wonder?” ponders the gallant37 defender38 of frontier settlers. “I can’t say it was Sergeant Blarney’s fault and call him over the coals, for I have already reported the matter to the Chief as if I had been present. Well,” with a sigh, “it’s another proof of how careful we must be nowadays. Bai Jove! if any of these scribblers had seen some of the little affairs we’ve managed in the old days, between here and Herberton, there would have been some ‘tall writing,’ as the Yankees say, there would so. Bai Jove!” the Inspector adds aloud, rising from his chair and peering out of the open door down the bare barrack yard to where the square, rush-covered huts of the boys stand side by side, “if that isn’t Puttis back again. Wonder if he’s been sent up to replace me? Why, he was only ordered down to Nanga district six weeks ago.”
169
OFFICER AND “BOY” OF BLACK POLICE.
170
The small, military figure of Inspector Puttis, to whom we have already introduced our readers half-a-dozen chapters back, dismounts quickly from the magnificent chestnut39 which has carried him from Cairns, and, after a few rapid words to his black orderly, who has dismounted also, rapidly marches up the scrupulously40 neat yard towards the residence of his brother officer. The white sergeant of the local force, and two or three native constables41 who are standing near, stand “attention” and give the military salute43 as the dapper little man passes them, which he replies to by lifting his riding cane44 to his cabbage-tree hat.
Whilst the new-comer is being welcomed by Inspector Bigger, let us glance at the more prominent objects in the scene before us.
Two rows of weather-board iron-roofed buildings, amongst which are the white sergeant’s quarters, stretch down a slight declivity45 to where they meet at right angles a terrace of brown, single-roomed huts, occupied by the native constables. At the upper end of the fair-sized quadrangle thus formed, the thatched, bungalow-like home of the Chief, covered with creeping plants and standing in a brilliant flower garden, looks down on the rest from the summit of the moderate rise on which the barracks are situated46.
The “boy” who arrived with the Inspector, and who, in company with several other natives, is now leading the two horses to the stockyard down by the heavily-timbered water-hole, is in the well-known uniform of the Black Police. This consists of a linen-covered shako, blue-jacket garnished47 with red braid, and white duck trousers; brown leather gaiters reach to the “boy’s” knees, and he wears an old pair of his master’s enormously long spurs on his “Blucher” 171 boots. As he is “in marching order,” a brass48 cartridge-belt, containing Snider cartridges49, is slung50, after the fashion of a sergeant’s scarf, around his body. To complete this somewhat lengthy51 description of a uniform to be seen only in “up-country” Australia, we may add that a Snider carbine hangs in its “basket” and strap52 from the “off” side of the “boy’s” saddle.
A few boys in the “undress” of a pair of trousers are sweeping53 one corner of the yard, and from the doors of the dwellings54 the brightly turbaned heads of a number of native women, the property of the Chinese cook and white constables, are lolling out for a view of the new arrivals.
But to return to the two officers, who are now seated under the verandah of Inspector Bigger’s home, near a table loaded with the usual “spiritual” signs of Australian hospitality.
“Well, Puttis, so you’re going up to Murdaro again, are you?” begins the host, after the preliminary courtesies of greeting have been gone through between the two friends. “Bai Jove! I wish I had the influence you have, old fellow, with our lords and masters down there at Brisbane. Ah! you sly dog, can I congratulate you yet?” asks the smiling elder man. “There’s not the slightest doubt but Miss Mundella’s the handsomest, eh? and the smartest young lady this side of the Clarence. Did she ever tell you, by-the-bye, old man, that I knew her father?”
“Never,” replies Puttis, with his customary brevity, just letting his jaws55 open and shut to emit the word, much like a fox-terrier does when it snaps at a troublesome “blue-bottle.”
“Old Mr. Mundella—it was young Mundella then 172—was one of the first to take up-country near where you’ve just come from. And d’you know,” continues the verbose56 Bigger in a low tone of voice, “d’you know, they used to say at the time that it was our old friend Giles, that’s got Murdaro now, that cleaned him out of his run, and not the ‘pleuro’ (a cattle disease) at all.”
“Humph,” observes Inspector Puttis.
“Yes, that his wife’s brother did it. Well, upon my soul, I would not be surprised at anything I heard of Giles doing. Mundella was grand company, and I don’t think I ever saw a better shot at a running nigger in my life, except yourself.”
“Hah!” snorts the little man in the black, frogged jacket, “that is nothing,” and he bows in acknowledgment of the compliment paid to him by his friend. “Have lived with finger on trigger—night and day—over ten years, may say. You shot well yourself, a few years back.”
“Age making me old and shaky now, me boy,” answers Bigger; and if he had said a life of almost unrestrained licentiousness57 he would have been nearer to the truth. “But what have you done with your troop, Puttis?”
“Camped down creek58. Four miles. Some niggers camped there. Want my ‘boys’ to pick up some information. About man I’m after.”
“Ah! a nigger?”
“Yes; perhaps you can help me.”
“With pleasure, if I can,” replied the elder Inspector, adding, “Especially, my dear fellow, as I sha’n’t feel so diffident about asking your assistance, in that case, in a little affair of my own.”
173
The host has by this time had six “nips” to his guest’s abstemious59 one, so turning his head towards Puttis he rattles60 on: “But won’t you alter your mind and have another? Or, if you prefer it, I’ve some real, genuine ‘potheen.’ Queensland make, of course, but just like the real stuff. One of my old constituents61 on the Barron river, ha! ha! sent it to me.” The two men smile and wink62 knowingly at each other. “Chinamen never forget a generous action, ha! ha!”
Laughing at the remembrance of how he obtained the “potheen,” and filling his glass from the decanter on the table with a very shaky hand, the jovial63 inspector continues,—
“In consequence of information received from one of my ‘boys,’ I rode up to the chinky’s little scrub farm one day, two years ago. ‘John,’ said I, ‘how many bushels of corn you get off this piece of ground?’ ‘Welly bad crop, Missie Bigger,’ answered the yellow devil, with a sly look at me to see how I took the lie he’d just uttered. ‘No goody Chinaman makey garden here. Twenty bushels me sell to Missie Brown. That all,’ and the cursed spawn64 of Confucius kicked some of the rich soil contemptuously over with his sandal. Any one could see there’d been a big crop, perhaps three hundred bushels off the land, by the heaps of husks off the heads of maize65 lying about the clearing. ‘Well, John,’ said I, leaning over in my saddle so that some friends who were with me shouldn’t hear, ‘well, John, you can send me a little of the ‘real stuff’ you sold MacDuff on Saturday, and then, whether you get twenty or five hundred bushels here, I sha’n’t trouble to ask you what you use 174 it for next time.’ Ha! ha! how Li Ching (that was his name) stared! He grew green, but he never opened his lips. But what’s more to the purpose, he’s sent me a box of potatoes, regularly, every few months since, which I have carried carefully into my bedroom. I’m sure you’d like it. Take a bottle or two with you for Giles. He’s a good judge. What?”
“Thanks, awfully,” replies Inspector Puttis. “Do so with pleasure. But what’s your trouble? Little affair you mentioned?”
The jolly smile that has illuminated66 Inspector Bigger’s face during his telling of the previous anecdote67 fades suddenly upon the objectionable subject of the official inquiry68 being recalled to his memory. He hands the red-sealed epistle and the newspaper cutting to his friend with a sigh, and watches the expressionless face of the little man as he carefully reads both with anxiety.
“Well, Puttis, what had I better do about that?”
“About correct?” inquires the person addressed, pointing to the clipping in his hand.
“Oh, I think so. Of course I wasn’t there. No good my going up those beastly hills in the wet. You see, there’s not been much doing lately in our line about here, and the ‘boys’ were getting troublesome, so I told Blarney (the sergeant) to see if he couldn’t find something for them to do. He heard of niggers having been seen up Mulberry Creek way, and——”
“Oh! same old style: ‘Having received repeated complaints from the Mulberry Scrub settlers of the wholesale70 destruction caused by a ferocious71 tribe of175 dangerous Myall blacks,’—and that kind of thing, you know.”
“Ah! too risky72 nowadays!” snaps Inspector Puttis, again interrupting his senior. “Can you get a written complaint? ‘We demand assistance,’ and that style of thing?”
“Oh! there’s Thompson, and that old German Bauer,—he wants to sell me a couple of cows. Either would do that for me, I think.”
The white sergeant is summoned to the presence of the two superior officers, through the medium of a native constable42 who is weeding the garden close by, and, after a little word fencing, he settles down into an account of the occurrence which corresponds, in most particulars, with that of “our trustworthy correspondent.” In answer to a question put to him he continues,—
“I heard of the camp, sorr, from a young gintleman, yer honours, who kapes the stour at Riversleigh, an’ he tells me, sorr, that one of them miner chaps up at High Cliff had tould him as how two murthering thaves of nigger women was in the creek by their camp lately. ‘Divil tax ’em, sorr,’ he said, but the varmints they got away before the miner could get his mates to help catch ’em.”
“Were the miners glad to see you and the ‘boys’?” demands Puttis.
“Sure, sorr, it’s yourself has guessed the right words they spake, sorr. They was sulky as bandicoots, an’ never said a word till I amused ’em, with me arthful stories,—the ‘bhoys’ having started afther the fire176 on the hill. ‘We’re not afraid of the niggers,’ said one,—who I’ll kape me eyes on when he’s in town for a bit of a spree,—‘we hain’t afraid of niggers: let ’em bide76.’”
“Wait a bit, sergeant. How do miners get tucker (provisions) up there?”
“It’s Thompson, sorr, the only settler, yer honours, on that side of the Cliffs; he kills fur ’em.”
“Is that Thompson who trained the bloodhounds for Inspector Versley?”
“The same, sorr.”
“That’ll do, sergeant.” The energetic non-commissioned officer salutes77 and withdraws, and Puttis turns towards the local chief.
“Say, Bigger, have you got that western ‘boy’ you lent me once? What was his name? Oh! Tomahawk. Got him still?”
“No, accidentally shot. Very sorry to lose him, for he was a good ‘boy.’ He knew every nigger’s tracks for fifty miles round. No, I lent him to Versley, and you know what Versley is. Tomahawk gave him a piece of cheek, and—and he was accidentally shot.”
“Ah! that’s a pity. Fact is, I want a ‘boy’ who knows the western lingo78. Also knows scrub. Got one?”
“Yes; Teapot’s a good ‘boy.’”
“I want to get hold of that educated nigger that Dyesart had with him when he died. Giles heard him telling other niggers. Had killed Dyesart. Have got warrant to arrest him. Served Dyesart right though. Educating a cursed nigger.”
“Oh, you mean that fellow Billy. Why, I thought 177 he brought a letter or something to Murdaro from Dyesart. Should not be surprised if the nigger wrote it himself though. Those civilized79 blacks are up to anything.”
“He was at Murdaro,” remarks Inspector Puttis, “but he made himself scarce.” He might have added, for he knew it to be a fact, that Billy had only made himself “scarce” because he had very good reasons for believing that Mr. Wilson Giles intended to make him altogether “extinct,”—the reason for that worthy75 gentleman’s inhospitable behaviour being explained and set forth80 hereafter for the benefit of our readers.
“Shouldn’t be surprised if he was at the Mission Station,” observes Inspector Bigger, after a short pause for reflection. “If so, I can get him for you. I’ve got a little gin (girl) that will fetch him, if he’s to be fetched out of the sanctuary81 where all these rascals82 go to.” After another pause, and a “peg” at the volatile83 fluid on the table, the speaker continues musingly,—
“If these missionary84 fellows did any good I wouldn’t object, but they don’t. They just teach those black devils of theirs to think themselves better than a white man. Why, one beggar they’ve reared they sent over here,—in a black coat, if you please!—who had the impudence85, curse him! to give a sermon in the Wesleyans’ Gospel-mill down there.”
“Ha! ha!” laughs Puttis grimly, looking straight in front of him, his left hand unconsciously fingering the revolver pouch86 on his hip31. “These mission stations. Good preserves for us sometimes. Besides missionaries87 prevent squatters doing our work themselves. No missionaries, no Black Police very soon. 178 A Black War, like they had in Tasmania, would soon result. No more niggers for us to disperse88.”
Taking a Sydney paper from his breast pocket, the little man points to it, asking if his friend has “Seen this?”
Inspector Bigger adjusts his eyeglass after some nervous, blundering attempts, and with some trouble, for he has “nipped” himself into a happy, sleepy mood by this time, makes out the following paragraph in the Sydney Telegraph.
“DEPREDATIONS BY BLACKS.
“SWEEPING CHARGES AGAINST THE MISSIONS.
“(By Telegraph.)
“Adelaide, Wednesday.
“A deputation of Northern Territory pastoralists to-day asked the Government to send more mounted police to the Territory in order to deal with depredatory blacks, who killed large numbers of stock. The majority of these natives belonged to the mission stations. The Minister for Education, in reply, said it seemed to him that the mission stations did more harm than good. He had official information that all the black outlaws89 in the Territory made for the missions when hard pressed and the missionaries protected them, and that the worst cattle-killers were the mission aboriginals. He was sorry, however, that owing to the bad state of the finances of the Northern Territory additional police protection could not be granted.”
“Yes,” murmurs90 the inspector, when he has got the gist91 of the article fairly into his slightly muddled92 brain. “That’s comforting. Right man in right place. Education’s the thing. He knows what he’s 179 talking about. As long as we’ve squatters in the ministry93 and on the bench we’re all right, eh?”
“Yes, and when Western Australia is out of home Government’s interference. Ha! ha! something to do for squatters there, I fancy. I’ll see Thompson,” Puttis adds, rising, “about your affair. He knows me. Never allow nonsense from cockatoos (settlers). He will send evidence you want. Double quick time.”
And Inspector Puttis knows what he is talking about, and is not bragging94 when he declares himself superior to the irritations95 occasioned wilfully96 at times by settlers. There were not wanting instances where imprudent scrub-farmers and others had suddenly lost horses and cattle; had found their cottages burned to the ground on a temporary absence in the bush; had left their crops safe over night, to wake cornless and hayless next morning; and yet no trace of the ravagers and thieves was to be found when the aid of the Black Police trackers had been called in to help to discover the aggressors. And as such invisible pirates, it was noticed, apparently97 only attacked the holdings of the few persons who were publicly at enmity with the Black Police, ugly stories got about that pointed5 to the N. M. “boys” as having played the r?le of midnight marauding Myalls (wild aborigines) “at the special request” of the officers of their troop.
Inspector Puttis now proceeds to bid his host adieu, and before he goes arranges for the neighbouring mission station to be watched for the arrival of Billy.
It is growing dark when Miss Mundella’s fiancé 180 leaves the barracks, and he rides with loose rein2 at an easy canter towards his camp. The black “boy,” Inspector Puttis’s aide-de-camp, follows some hundred yards behind. After a couple of miles along the red clay banks of a dried-up mountain torrent98, the track leads up a small ridge17 into an outlying portion of the dense99 “scrub,” or jungle, that covers the high ranges on either hand. Here the way becomes far more difficult to travel, and the riders allow their clever steeds to slowly pick their own path. The clay surface of the treacherous100 road, worn into wave-like corrugations, a foot or more in depth, from the passing trains of pack-mules from the distant tin-mines, and ever moist with the dews of the dense tropical growth on either hand, is quite dark with the overhanging branches of buttressed101 fig-trees of gigantic growth, of graceful102 palms and pendent ferns and creepers, whilst dangerous stinging-trees and lawyer-vines to right and left render caution necessary. But the other side of the patch of scrub is safely reached, and the inspector is just about to urge his horse into another canter, when that animal suddenly snorts and bounds to the other side of the track. This impromptu103 action probably saved its rider’s life, for as it does so, phut! and a long kangaroo spear flies harmlessly past the inspector’s body, and goes clattering104 down upon the stony105 bottom of the watercourse in front.
Puttis, although a perfectly106 fearless man, is one of those persons who never throws a chance away, and, knowing what good cause the aborigines of the district have to wish for his destruction, always carries a revolver in his hand when out late in the 181 scrub. Almost before the spear has touched the ground, certainly before it is motionless, the active little man has swung round in his saddle, and fired a snap-shot at his cowardly assailant, whose dusky form can just be seen, as he stands, paralyzed for an instant at the escape of his victim, upon a fallen tree trunk by the wayside. A sparkling burst of flame, a crashing echo, half drowned with a yell of agony, and the inspector’s horse becomes unmanageable, and bolts with him down the track into the open land beyond.
When Puttis can prevail on his horse to return into the scrub, he finds his attendant native constable standing by the side of the prostrate107 body of the would-be murderer, examining him by the light of a wax match he has just struck. The wounded savage108, who is desperately109 hurt in the region of the right lung, scowls110 up at his enemies as they lean over him. He is quite naked, and lies on the road on his left side. The necklace of joints of yellow grass that he wears, shows him to be in mourning for a relative.
“What name this beggar, Yegerie?” inquires Puttis of his constable, meaning, “Who is this?”
“Malle beggar, Marmie. Him bin10 long a ’tation, mine think it” (Bad fellow, master, has been a station-hand, I think), pointing to some half-healed scars on the man’s shoulder-blades that demonstrate to the experienced eyes looking down on him that he has recently received a flogging.
“Any more black fellows about?”
“No more black beggar, Marmie. This one sit down long his self,” replies the trained black, in182 whose wonderful powers of hearing, seeing, and deduction111 his officer has perfect confidence.
“What ’tation you belong to?” continues Yegerie, kicking the wounded man with the toe of his boot.
“Ah-r-r-r,” growls112 the wounded savage, with such angry fierceness that Inspector Puttis’s revolver drops into position, ready to give the sufferer his coup73 de grace should he attempt any mischief113.
“Monta karaan!” (curse you!) hisses114 the feeble voice, “you white devil. You kill um lubra (wife); you kill um pickaninnie; you,”—he pauses to gasp115 for breath,—“you kill um all about black fellow. No more brudder long a me. Ah! no more brudder long a me. Monta karaan!!” The sufferer’s head drops down towards the ground, and he literally116 bites the dust, or rather mud, in a frenzy117 of passion and agony. Then he becomes unconscious apparently, and murmurs a few unintelligible118 words, followed by a groaning119 request for—
“Kouta! kouta!” (Water, water.)
“Ah!” muses120 Puttis to himself, knowing by experience that a dying man speaks his last words in the language of his childhood, however much he may have forgotten it a little while before, when in full health. “Ah! Kouta is a western word. He’s a runaway121 nigger, and has been living with some tribe about here. He will be very well out of the way.” And nodding to his black aide-de-camp, who thereupon begins to drag the wounded savage off the track into the scrub, the inspector mounts and rides off.
As he reaches the other side of the dried-up 183 river bed once more, his chestnut starts at the sound of a single carbine shot that rings out with weird122, muffled123 suddenness from the dark glades124 he has just left. It is the requiem125 of another departed member of the fast-fading aboriginal6 race of Australia.
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confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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wrings
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| 绞( wring的第三人称单数 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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snob
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| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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aboriginal
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| adj.（指动植物）土生的，原产地的，土著的 | |
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aboriginals
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| （某国的）公民( aboriginal的名词复数 )； 土著人特征； 土生动物（或植物） | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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commissioner
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| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
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truthfulness
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| n. 符合实际 | |
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purports
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| v.声称是…，（装得）像是…的样子( purport的第三人称单数 ) | |
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atrocity
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| n.残暴，暴行 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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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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standing
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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repose
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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26
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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refractory
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| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
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28
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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29
thongs
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| 的东西 | |
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30
artistically
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| adv.艺术性地 | |
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31
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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32
instil
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| v.逐渐灌输 | |
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33
bosoms
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| 胸部( bosom的名词复数 )； 胸怀； 女衣胸部（或胸襟）； 和爱护自己的人在一起的情形 | |
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34
bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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35
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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36
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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37
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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38
defender
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| n.保卫者，拥护者，辩护人 | |
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39
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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40
scrupulously
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| adv.一丝不苟地；小心翼翼地，多顾虑地 | |
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41
constables
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| n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
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42
constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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43
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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44
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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45
declivity
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| n.下坡，倾斜面 | |
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46
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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47
garnished
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| v.给（上餐桌的食物）加装饰( garnish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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49
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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50
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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51
lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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52
strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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53
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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54
dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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55
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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56
verbose
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| adj.用字多的；冗长的；累赘的 | |
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57
licentiousness
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| n.放肆，无法无天 | |
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58
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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59
abstemious
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| adj.有节制的，节俭的 | |
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60
rattles
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| （使）发出格格的响声， （使）作嘎嘎声( rattle的第三人称单数 )； 喋喋不休地说话； 迅速而嘎嘎作响地移动，堕下或走动； 使紧张，使恐惧 | |
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61
constituents
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| n.选民( constituent的名词复数 )；成分；构成部分；要素 | |
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62
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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63
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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64
spawn
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| n.卵，产物，后代，结果；vt.产卵，种菌丝于，产生，造成；vi.产卵，大量生产 | |
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65
maize
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| n.玉米 | |
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66
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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67
anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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68
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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69
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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70
wholesale
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| n.批发；adv.以批发方式；vt.批发，成批出售 | |
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71
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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72
risky
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| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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73
coup
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| n.政变；突然而成功的行动 | |
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74
grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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75
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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76
bide
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| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
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77
salutes
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| n.致敬，欢迎，敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎，致敬( salute的第三人称单数 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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78
lingo
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| n.语言不知所云，外国话，隐语 | |
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79
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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80
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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81
sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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82
rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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83
volatile
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| adj.反复无常的，挥发性的，稍纵即逝的，脾气火爆的；n.挥发性物质 | |
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84
missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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85
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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86
pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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87
missionaries
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| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
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88
disperse
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| vi.使分散；使消失；vt.分散；驱散 | |
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89
outlaws
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| 歹徒，亡命之徒( outlaw的名词复数 )； 逃犯 | |
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90
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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91
gist
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| n.要旨；梗概 | |
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92
muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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93
ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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94
bragging
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| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的现在分词 )；大话 | |
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95
irritations
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| n.激怒( irritation的名词复数 )；恼怒；生气；令人恼火的事 | |
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96
wilfully
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| adv.任性固执地；蓄意地 | |
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97
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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98
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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99
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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100
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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101
buttressed
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| v.用扶壁支撑，加固( buttress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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102
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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103
impromptu
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| adj.即席的，即兴的；adv.即兴的(地)，无准备的(地) | |
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104
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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105
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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106
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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107
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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108
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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109
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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110
scowls
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| 不悦之色，怒容( scowl的名词复数 ) | |
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111
deduction
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| n.减除，扣除，减除额；推论，推理，演绎 | |
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112
growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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113
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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114
hisses
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| 嘶嘶声( hiss的名词复数 ) | |
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115
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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116
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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117
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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118
unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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119
groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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120
muses
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的第三人称单数 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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121
runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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122
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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123
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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124
glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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125
requiem
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| n.安魂曲，安灵曲 | |
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