The old Oregon Territory, comprising the present states of Oregon and Washington, has the unique distinction of being the only part of the United States that was actually acquired by exploration and settlement, and this was not accomplished1 without lively competition from the British. The New England States were wrested2 from the unwilling3 hands of Great Britain and we paid the first Napoleon his price for Louisiana. Spain sold us Florida very reasonably when she saw we were going to take it in spite of her. California, Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona were taken at the mouth of the cannon4 from Old Mexico—pity we didn’t complete the annexation5 of the rest of that troublesome country at the same time. We paid Russia seven millions for Alaska and thought it a gold brick for a time—Seward’s Folly6, they called it—and a little pressure was exercised on Spain to relinquish7 the Philippines and Porto Rico into our keeping. Oregon alone became ours by right of “discovery,” and this no doubt seemed a curious163 kind of right in the eyes of the red men who possessed8 this goodly land.
ALONG THE COLUMBIA HIGHWAY
From photo by The Weister Co., Portland, Oregon
We need nothing more to tell us where the Oregon pioneers hailed from than the nomenclature of towns and rivers of the eastern part of the state. The Columbia itself was once—and more fitly—the Oregon, which rolled through “the continuous woods and heard no sound save its own dashings” until a Boston sea captain decided9 to honor the mighty10 stream with the name of his ship. The New Englander crops out still more significantly in Portland, Salem, Albany, the Willamette, and other names familiar in this region which the “down east” Yankee bestowed11 in loving memory of the towns and rivers of his native land.
We left Portland by the Pacific Highway, which runs through the heart of this western New England for one hundred and sixty miles, following the valley of the Willamette River. This valley is from twenty to sixty miles wide and is beyond question the garden spot of Oregon, if not of the entire Pacific Coast. The late J. J. Hill, the “Empire Builder,” in one of his last public appearances, at a banquet in Portland, declared, “I consider the Willamette Valley the most favored spot on earth for its size.” Gov. James Withycombe, who for many years was connected with the Oregon State Agricultural164 College, is responsible for the statement that “The Willamette Valley has a greater variety of agricultural products than any other section of the whole United States.” Possibly both of these authorities may have been somewhat prejudiced—Hill’s railroads and steamships12 were directly interested in the products of the valley, and a governor is not likely to minify the merits of any part of his state. Still, they are authorities on the matter and the people of the Willamette Valley, at least, are no doubt quite willing to let these pronunciamentos stand unchallenged. Nor are we inclined to dispute such authorities from any knowledge that we ourselves may have for, though we traversed the valley at the most unfavorable period of the year, we were none the less impressed with the evidences of its wonderful beauty, fertility, and great variety of products. The climate, we were told, is very temperate13; in winter the freezing point is seldom touched and while summer days are usually pretty hot, the relief of cool nights never fails. As to its fertility and the capability14 of the valley to sustain a far larger population, an enthusiastic local authority is responsible for the following comparison:
“Populous Belgium, which before the German invasion contained about seven million inhabitants, has an area of only 11,373 square miles,165 or less than the aggregate16 area of the eight counties occupying the valley of the Willamette, which have a total of 12,526 square miles. The present population of these counties is about two hundred thousand. There is no reason why they should not contain as large a number of people as Belgium, for the climate of both sections is similar and the soil of the valley, though of different composition, is fully17 as productive as that of Belgium.”
A roseate forecast, to be sure, but one to which a careful observer might reasonably take exception; for while the whole of Belgium is a level and very fertile plain, more than half the area of the eight counties of the Willamette is occupied by rugged18 mountains which can never be cultivated except in very limited sections. We can agree, however, more unreservedly with another enthusiast15 who speaks in terms of scenic19 beauty and pastoral prosperity rather than square miles and population:
“A broad valley, rich, prosperous, and beautiful to look upon is the Willamette, and a valley of many moods. Neither in scenic charms nor agricultural resourcefulness is its heritage restricted to a single field. There are timberland and trout20 stream, hill and dale, valley and mountain; rural beauty of calm Suffolk is neighbor to the ragged21 picturesqueness22 of Scotland; there166 are skylines comparable with Norway’s, and lowlands peaceful as Sweden’s pastoral vistas24; the giant timber, or their relic25 stumps26, at some pasture edge, spell wilderness27, while a happy, alder-lined brook28 flowing through a boulder-dotted field is reminiscent of the uplands of Connecticut. Altogether, it is a rarely variegated29 viewland, is this vale of the Willamette.
“You have seen valleys which were vast wheatfields, or where orchards30 were everywhere; in California and abroad you have viewed valleys dedicated31 to vineyards, and from mountain vantage points you have feasted your eyes upon the greenery of timberland expanses; all the world over you can spy out valleys dotted with an unvaried checkerboard of gardens, or green with pasture lands. But where have you seen a valley where all of this is mingled33, where nature refuses to be a specialist and man appears a Jack-of-all-outdoor trades? If by chance you have journeyed from Medford to Portland, with some excursioning from the beaten paths through Oregon’s valley of content, you have viewed such a one.
From photo by The Winter Co., Portland, Oregon
“For nature has staged a lavish35 repertoire36 along the Willamette. There are fields of grain and fields of potatoes; hop37 yards and vineyards stand side by side; emerald pastures border brown cornfields; forests of primeval timber167 shadow market garden patches; natty38 orchards of apples, peaches, and plums are neighbors to waving expanses of beet39 tops. In short, as you whirl through the valley, conjure40 up some antithesis41 of vegetation and you must wait but a scanty42 mile or two before viewing it from the observation car.
“As first I journeyed through this pleasant land of the Willamette, a little book, written just half a century ago, fell into my hands, and these words concerning the valley, read then, offered a description whose peer I have not yet encountered:
“‘The sweet Arcadian valley of the Willamette, charming with meadow, park and grove43! In no older world where men have, in all their happiest moods, recreated themselves for generations in taming earth to orderly beauty, have they achieved a fairer garden than Nature’s simple labor44 of love has made there, giving to rough pioneers the blessings45 and the possible education of refined and finished landscape, in the presence of landscape strong, savage46, and majestic47.’”
Such is George Palmer Putnam’s estimate of the “Valley of Content,” as he styles it in poetic48 phrase, and we can testify that his description is true as well as poetic.
But it may be that our enthusiasm for the Willamette Valley is unduly49 delaying the story168 of the actual progress of our journeyings which I take it has the “right of way” in this volume.
Out of Portland we encountered considerable highway construction work, which reminded us that Multnomah County is improving other arteries50 of travel besides the Columbia Highway. Such improvement was certainly needed, for the dozen miles between Portland and Oregon City was badly broken macadam, enforcing a speed limit that put fear of “cops” quite out of the question. The road is fairly level, however, following the river quite closely and crossing it just before it comes into Oregon City. Here we struck the first of many of the ancient covered wooden bridges in this section, doubtless another New England inheritance for which the early inhabitants were responsible. Each of these rickety old structures bore a warning against crossing “faster than a walk,” with threat of a liberal fine for violations51, though the infernal clatter52 of loose boards that seemed to threaten collapse53 ought to be a most effective deterrent54 against speeding.
The road leaves Oregon City by a sharp, winding55 ascent56 which brought us to a fine, rolling upland with a dim mountain range to our left. The surface, however, was much better, permitting us to do the legal limit of Oregon—twenty-five miles per hour—with entire comfort.169 The gently rounded hills on either hand were occupied by thrifty-looking ranches57, and fruit-laden58 prune and apple orchards were the most prevalent crop. The former were being gathered and we met many wagons59 and trucks loaded with the purple fruit, which was being taken to the drying houses. These were odd-looking frame structures with tall, square, latticed towers projecting above the roofs and the odor of the drying fruit was noticeable in this vicinity.
Salem, the state capital, fifty miles from Portland, is the first town of consequence. It is situated60 directly on the Willamette, which is navigable to this point by good-sized steamboats and two lines ply61 regularly between Salem and Portland. The population is only sixteen thousand, but still enough to give it second rank among Oregon cities. The general appearance of the town, its shops and stores, which we especially observed while making a few purchases, would give the impression of a much larger place. Salem, like The Dalles, was founded by Methodist missionaries63 as early as 1840. This was only seventeen years later than the founding of the last Spanish mission in California and we could not help thinking how this beautiful Arcadian valley would have appealed to the Franciscan padres. There were plenty of natives to engage the activities of the missionaries and they are170 more numerous here to-day than in the vicinity of the old California missions. An industrial training school for Indians is located near the city. The town was incorporated in 1853 and made the state capital in 1860. Its career has been as peaceful and quiet as its name would signify. Indian fighting and mining lawlessness never disturbed its serenity64 as in the case of so many California towns. To-day it still gives the impression of quiet prosperity and peacefulness with its twenty-five churches and two denominational schools—the Methodist Willamette University, with about five hundred students, and the Catholic Sisters’ Academy, with one hundred and fifty girls in attendance. The state capitol and other public buildings are not very impressive and apparently65 not so costly66 as state capitols and public buildings average the country over. There are fifty miles of wide, level, well-paved, tree-bordered streets which in our mind go farther than almost anything else as an index of civic67 pride and progressiveness.
Beyond Salem the valley widens and becomes monotonously68 level. On either hand is a dim blue mountain range, above which, eastward69, glimmers70 an occasional snowy peak. The principal crop in this section is wheat, large quantities of which were being hauled to the market. The heavily laden wagons worked171 havoc71 with the old stone road, which was very rough in places. We found considerable stretches of loosely scattered72 crushed rock awaiting the steam roller; this made desperately73 hard going and wrought74 havoc with tires. Sometimes we could avoid it by running to one side of the road, but chuck-holes and dust many inches deep made this alternative an unpleasant one. The country was a dead brown hue75 everywhere except for the enlivening green of occasional fields of alfalfa or well-watered lawns about some of the handsome farmhouses76. The soil showed every evidence of fertility and we were assured that crop failures are quite unknown in this favored valley.
Albany, twenty-seven miles from Salem, is a good-looking, well-built town of five thousand people. There is an astonishingly large seven-story hotel which seemed to indicate a busy place. Notwithstanding the opportunities to dine at several apparently excellent hotels along this route, we did not regret that we had picked up a lunch at a Portland delicatessen store. It was more enjoyable than any hotel meal when eaten in the open under a group of towering trees by the roadside—and, incidentally it cost less. The Willamette at Albany affords excellent water power, and this has attracted several manufacturing establishments to the town.
Leaving Albany, the road swings several172 miles eastward from the river, returning to it at Harrisburg, thirty miles farther south. Here we found a ferryboat propelled by a gasoline launch alongside serving in lieu of a bridge. The service is kept up free of charge by the county and the ferryman told us that the average is two hundred and fifty trips per day. As the river is not very wide here and there appeared to be no great obstacle in the way of bridging it, the ferry seemed a penny-wise makeshift—and this on the much-vaunted Pacific Highway. Certainly one need have no difficulty in keeping on this same Pacific Highway for a more be-signed road we never traveled. At some of the crossings there would be a half dozen different signboards put up by enterprising local business men, auto78 dealers79, and the omnipresent Goodrich Tire Company. And I might incidentally remark that I can conceive of no better advertising80 to the motorist than these same road signs; I have blessed the Goodrich people more than once when we paused in doubt at the parting of the ways, only to be set aright by their friendly signboards. We came to the conclusion, as the result of much observation, that the best material for the sign is a well-painted pine board about an inch thick. This is little affected81 by weather, can be easily repainted, and affords little temptation to the wretched outlaw82 who insists on using173 the signboard as a rifle target. A rifle bullet will often knock a hole as big as one’s hand in the enamel83 of a metal sign, while its ravages84 can hardly be seen on a wooden sign, and a putty plug effects an instant repair when painting. In any event, while few metal signs escaped the vandal’s bullets, we hardly ever saw a wooden board “shot up.” Of course, it is easy enough to say that the vandals who damage road signs should be punished severely85 enough to break up the practice, but this is a long route to travel in a country where contempt for law is so general. In all of our European travels, some twenty-five thousand miles, we never saw a wilfully86 damaged signboard.
Twenty miles beyond Harrisburg we found ourselves in the streets of Eugene, a town nearly the size of Salem and quite its equal in metropolitan87 appearance. It is a live-looking, well-improved town, and, I was going to say, gives the impression of a much larger city, but I fear I am overworking this expression in connection with these western towns. It is none the less true, however; the streets, the stores, the buildings, public and private, would do credit to a city twice as large as Eugene. Here is the state university of Oregon, with nearly a thousand students who no doubt contribute much to the evident activity of the town. The university174 buildings, beautifully situated on a grassy88 slope along the Willamette, are mainly of classic design. Like the public buildings at Salem, they impressed us as being rather inferior to what one would expect of a state-supported institution. Eugene is very pleasantly located at the edge of the foothills along the wide, level valley and within full view of the rugged coast range of the Cascades90. The streets are wide and well-improved, many of them shaded by Oregon maples91, gorgeous with autumn colorings when we saw them.
A shopkeeper directed us to the Osborn Hotel as the best in the town and it proved very satisfactory, indeed. It is a large red-brick structure fronting a public park and located conveniently to the business center of the town. We were given a comfortable room at a moderate rate, but the restaurant prices were quite up to metropolitan standard, though this was mitigated92 somewhat by the first-class service. The city water was exceedingly unpleasant, having been “doped” with chemicals to counteract93 impurities94. We were assured, however, that it was quite harmless and suffered no ill after-effects from drinking it.
THE WILLAMETTE NEAR EUGENE, OREGON
From photo by Winter Photo Co., Portland, Oregon
Our run for the day had been a comparatively short one—one hundred and forty miles over roads better than average. We arrived in175 Eugene early in the afternoon and remarked that we might easily reach Roseburg, eighty miles distant, before dark. We went, of course, on the assumption that the Pacific Highway south of Eugene was quite as good as to the north of the city—an assumption which we found to be sadly at variance95 with facts. A garage man warned us not to expect a “joy ride” to Grants Pass, for though the actual distance is only a little greater than we covered on the preceding day, the run was much harder. All of which we heard with light-hearted unconcern, for it never entered our heads that on the much-heralded Pacific Highway we should find some of the roughest and most dangerous road since leaving San Francisco.
Out of Eugene we encountered hills, but the going was fair to Cottage Grove, a quiet village which marks the southern extremity96 of the Vale of the Willamette. We soon entered Pais Creek97 Canyon98 and the road degenerated99 into a rough, winding trail, muddy from a heavy rain which had preceded us only a day or two. The road was often strewn with boulders100 and cut up into ruts that gave the car an unmerciful wrenching101 as we crawled cautiously along. In places an effort had been made to get rid of the stones and mud by covering considerable stretches of road with planks102, but these were loosely laid and176 did not mend matters a great deal. The road was often dangerously narrow and there were many sharp turns around blind corners. There was just mud enough to make us uneasy on the grades and to demonstrate the utter impossibility of the road for a heavy car in wet weather.
There was little respite103 from these conditions in the sixty miles from Cottage Grove to Drain. In places, improvement work was in progress which will do something to smooth out the highway for the motorist of the future. The only redeeming104 feature was the glorious scenery. We ran along green banks covered with giant ferns whose long fronds105 swept the car as we passed and we glided106 beneath closely standing77 pines under which the ground was carpeted with rank mosses107. The prevailing108 green was varied32 by the coral-red clusters of honeysuckle berries and the early autumn reds and yellows of the deciduous109 trees.
ON THE PACIFIC HIGHWAY IN OREGON
From painting by H. H. Bagg
A long climb through scattered pine trees and a winding descent brought us to the lonely little village of Drain, wedged in the bottom of the canyon. Here a garage man gave us the cheerful information that the road before us was no better than that over which we had come and thus, being prepared for the worst, we were agreeably surprised to find that our friend had exaggerated somewhat. The road was bad, to177 be sure, but no match in genuine badness for that north of Drain. We ran through open oak and fir groves110 on the Calapooia Mountains, very closely following the course of the Southern Pacific Railroad and passing several lonely little stations. We found some road improvement in progress and a few new stretches with properly engineered grades and curves, which gave evidence of the determination of Oregon people to make at least a part of this Pacific Highway worthy111 of the name.
As we approached Roseburg we found the country well settled, with many thrifty-looking apple orchards on the rolling hills. Roseburg is a good-looking town of five thousand people and we passed two very inviting112 hotels. A magnificent high school building was under construction and all appearances in the town pointed113 to prosperity and progressiveness. We took on gasoline at a garage that made the somewhat sweeping114 claim, “Largest and best-equipped garage between Portland and San Francisco,” but we had no opportunity of testing its facilities.
We would gladly have paused for the night in Roseburg; eighty miles of such road as we had covered was quite enough for one day, in our opinion, but we could not forget that the rainy season was due any time and prudence115 behooved116 us to push onward117. There were still seventy-six178 miles between us and Grants Pass and, as it proved, every one of them climbs or descends118 some giant hill range, for the whole run is through the heart of the Cascade89 Mountains. There are many steep, winding grades, miles long, much narrow roadway creeping beneath overhanging precipices119, with precipices dropping away below, too narrow for passing except at long intervals120 and often stony121 and rough in the extreme. The compensating122 feature is the wonderfully beautiful and picturesque23 scenery that prevails along the entire run. Wooded hills stretched away to the lavender-tinted horizon or towered far above us as we dropped into the depths of cool, green canyons123 alongside madly dashing mountain streams—emerald green, crystal clear, or white with foam124.
Out of Roseburg we followed the Umpqua River, entering the prosaically125 named Cow Creek Canyon at Canyonville—but if the name is prosaic126 there is nothing commonplace about the wild and rugged scenery throughout its entire length. The road frequently descended127 to the side of the stream, where there were glorious camping sites galore, some of them occupied by motor parties. Green sward, pure cold water, fine trees, and plenty of firewood make this a camper’s paradise and in season the trout fishing is unsurpassed. There are also plenty of deer179 and bear in these rugged hills and many of the campers were evidently on hunting expeditions, for the season had just begun. Again the road ascended128 a stiff grade and rose to splendid vantage points above the vexed129 river. We passed several little villages nestling in the canyon and presenting the same general characteristics. About these were spots of cultivated land and often prune and apple orchards.
Beyond Wolf Creek, a few miles from Grants Pass, we entered the Rogue130 River Valley, which vies with Hood131 River in producing the big red apple for which Oregon has become famous and wonderful stories were told us of the yield of these orchards. Many other varieties of fruit are grown here and vineyards flourish. The climate is much the same as that of the Willamette Valley, and general characteristics are much the same except that the Rogue River country is more rolling.
At sunset we came into the wide main streets of Grants Pass—glad indeed that our strenuous132 run had reached its goal—and cast about anxiously for a hotel. A native directed us to the Josephine, but a bathroom was not to be had there, nor were we particularly prepossessed with the general appearance of the place. The Oxford133, farther down the main street, proved a quiet and fairly comfortable180 haven134 in charge of a landlady135 who was kindly136 attentive137. There was no restaurant in connection with this hotel—one of several instances which we found where hotels had given up serving meals, which they declared the least profitable part of the business, despite the high prices which prevail on menus in the west.
We found more of the atmosphere of the “boom” towns in Grants Pass than we noted138 in any other town since leaving Bend. The citizens seemed to think that the city was on the verge139 of a great increase in population and prosperity. The reasons for the optimism are attractively set forth140 in some of the literature circulated by the commercial club, from which I quote a few paragraphs, with slight modifications141:
“Upon the north bank of the beautiful Rogue River in Southern Oregon is located the up-to-date, prosperous city of Grants Pass, with a population exceeding six thousand purely142 American citizens, enjoying the charms of picturesque scenery the equal of which is not to be found elsewhere; the clear, spring-like mountain stream, with its myriads143 of trout and salmon144, coursing along the southern limits of the city boundary, affords means of recreation which only few of the vast American populace are permitted to enjoy.
“Grants Pass is surrounded by rich agricultural181 and horticultural lands; the low forest-clad hillsides are being rapidly cleared and planted to Tokay grape vineyards and peach, pear, and apple orchards; upon both banks of the Rogue River, for a distance of twenty miles, are large commercial apple orchards, some in full bearing, consisting of the Spitzenberg and Yellow Newton Pippin apples, for which the section is world-famous, and others newly planted or from one to five years old; large tracts145 of luscious146 watermelons, nutmegs, and cantaloupes are to be seen interspersed147 with strawberries, blackberries, and other varieties of small fruit; here a field of corn, nodding its tassels148 ten and twelve feet high; there a field of hops62, smiling fortune to its lucky owner; and again, rolling meadows of alfalfa and bunches of dairy cattle, sleek149 and trim; the azure150 blue sky above reaching to the horizon, the lines of which are broken by the majestic peaks of the Coast Range Mountains. Truly has this been called ‘The Italy of America.’
“In the hills close to Grants Pass the sportsman finds grouse151, quail152, pheasants, and grey squirrels to his hearts content, whilst along the river and creeks153 the angler forgets all care when casting his fly to the invitation of the rainbow, salmon, and speckled trout, which abound154 along the numerous riffles and in the deep pools; farther out in the timber-clad mountains the182 huntsman may find deer, bobcat, bear, and mountain lion. A poor hunter is he who does not have venison for dinner the first day.
“The standing timber of Josephine County is conservatively estimated at nine billion feet of fir, sugar pine, spruce, cedar155, and yellow pine. A score or more sawmills are operated in the immediate156 vicinity of Grants Pass; the product of these mills is manufactured into fruit boxes and building material at the two large factories in the city, which employ several hundred men. Mining for gold and copper157 is carried on extensively in all parts of the county to a distance of forty miles; the Grants Pass district supplying at the present time over one-half of the gold and copper output of the state. Marble, lime, platinum158, fire clay, and asbestos are among the many lesser159 mineral products.
“The homeseeker looking for an ideal location and an opportunity to become independent in a really charming city and valley should not fail to investigate the merits of Grants Pass and vicinity.”
The completion of a million-dollar sugar factory in the past year had still farther added to the optimism of Grants Pass people. This, we were assured, would mean the distribution of perhaps five hundred thousand dollars annually160 in the community and reclamation161 of some six183 thousand acres of land with an assured income of at least fifty dollars per acre. Irrigation is necessary to grow sugar beets162 in this section and, fortunately, the water supply is practically unlimited163. Naturally, Grants Pass is exceedingly anxious to have an outlet164 to the sea, which is less than one hundred miles distant across the Cascades—and a bond issue to begin work on a railroad to Crescent City in California has recently been voted. All of which goes to show that Grants Pass is honest in its belief of a great future and that no effort will be omitted by its hustling165 citizens to realize said future at the earliest possible moment.
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wrested
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unwilling
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cannon
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annexation
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folly
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relinquish
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possessed
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decided
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mighty
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bestowed
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steamships
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temperate
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capability
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enthusiast
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aggregate
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rugged
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dedicated
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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34
prune
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| n.酶干；vt.修剪，砍掉，削减；vi.删除 | |
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35
lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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36
repertoire
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| n.(准备好演出的)节目，保留剧目；(计算机的)指令表，指令系统， <美>(某个人的)全部技能；清单，指令表 | |
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37
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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38
natty
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| adj.整洁的，漂亮的 | |
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39
beet
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| n.甜菜；甜菜根 | |
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40
conjure
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| v.恳求，祈求；变魔术，变戏法 | |
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41
antithesis
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| n.对立；相对 | |
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42
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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43
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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44
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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45
blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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46
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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47
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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48
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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49
unduly
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| adv.过度地，不适当地 | |
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50
arteries
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| n.动脉( artery的名词复数 )；干线，要道 | |
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51
violations
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| 违反( violation的名词复数 )； 冒犯； 违反（行为、事例）； 强奸 | |
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52
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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53
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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54
deterrent
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| n.阻碍物，制止物；adj.威慑的，遏制的 | |
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55
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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56
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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57
ranches
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| 大农场， （兼种果树，养鸡等的）大牧场( ranch的名词复数 ) | |
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58
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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59
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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60
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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61
ply
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| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
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62
hops
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| 跳上[下]( hop的第三人称单数 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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63
missionaries
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| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
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64
serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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65
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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66
costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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67
civic
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| adj.城市的，都市的，市民的，公民的 | |
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68
monotonously
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| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
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69
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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70
glimmers
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| n.微光，闪光( glimmer的名词复数 )v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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71
havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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72
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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73
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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74
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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75
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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76
farmhouses
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| n.农舍，农场的主要住房( farmhouse的名词复数 ) | |
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77
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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78
auto
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| n.(=automobile)(口语)汽车 | |
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79
dealers
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| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
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80
advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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81
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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82
outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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83
enamel
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| n.珐琅，搪瓷，瓷釉；(牙齿的)珐琅质 | |
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84
ravages
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| 劫掠后的残迹，破坏的结果，毁坏后的残迹 | |
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85
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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86
wilfully
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| adv.任性固执地；蓄意地 | |
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87
metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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88
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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89
cascade
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| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
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90
cascades
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| 倾泻( cascade的名词复数 )； 小瀑布（尤指一连串瀑布中的一支）； 瀑布状物； 倾泻（或涌出）的东西 | |
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91
maples
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| 槭树，枫树( maple的名词复数 )； 槭木 | |
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92
mitigated
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| v.减轻，缓和( mitigate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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93
counteract
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| vt.对…起反作用，对抗，抵消 | |
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94
impurities
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| 不纯( impurity的名词复数 )； 不洁； 淫秽； 杂质 | |
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95
variance
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| n.矛盾，不同 | |
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96
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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97
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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98
canyon
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| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
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99
degenerated
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| 衰退，堕落，退化( degenerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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100
boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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101
wrenching
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| n.修截苗根，苗木铲根（铲根时苗木不起土或部分起土）v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的现在分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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102
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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103
respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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104
redeeming
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| 补偿的，弥补的 | |
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105
fronds
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| n.蕨类或棕榈类植物的叶子( frond的名词复数 ) | |
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106
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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107
mosses
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| n. 藓类, 苔藓植物 名词moss的复数形式 | |
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108
prevailing
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| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
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109
deciduous
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| adj.非永久的；短暂的；脱落的；落叶的 | |
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110
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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111
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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112
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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113
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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114
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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115
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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116
behooved
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| v.适宜( behoove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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117
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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118
descends
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| v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 )；下去；下降；下斜 | |
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119
precipices
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| n.悬崖，峭壁( precipice的名词复数 ) | |
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120
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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121
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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122
compensating
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| 补偿，补助，修正 | |
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123
canyons
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| n.峡谷( canyon的名词复数 ) | |
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124
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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125
prosaically
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| adv.无聊地；乏味地；散文式地；平凡地 | |
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126
prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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127
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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128
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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129
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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130
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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131
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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132
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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133
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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134
haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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135
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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136
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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137
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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138
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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139
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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140
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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141
modifications
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| n.缓和( modification的名词复数 )；限制；更改；改变 | |
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142
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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143
myriads
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| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
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144
salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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145
tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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146
luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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147
interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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148
tassels
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| n.穗( tassel的名词复数 )；流苏状物；（植物的）穗；玉蜀黍的穗状雄花v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须( tassel的第三人称单数 )；使抽穗， （为了使作物茁壮生长）摘去穗状雄花；用流苏装饰 | |
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149
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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150
azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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151
grouse
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| n.松鸡；v.牢骚，诉苦 | |
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152
quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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153
creeks
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| n.小湾( creek的名词复数 )；小港；小河；小溪 | |
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154
abound
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| vi.大量存在；(in，with)充满，富于 | |
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155
cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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156
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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157
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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158
platinum
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| n.白金 | |
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159
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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160
annually
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| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
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161
reclamation
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| n.开垦；改造；（废料等的）回收 | |
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162
beets
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| 甜菜( beet的名词复数 )； 甜菜根； （因愤怒、难堪或觉得热而）脸红 | |
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163
unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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164
outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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165
hustling
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| 催促（hustle的现在分词形式） | |
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