“Don’t try it,” she said. “The road by the way of Crescent City and Eureka is a rough mountain trail, with grades as high as thirty-eight per cent and the rains are likely to catch you at any time from now on,”—all of which, we may remark parenthetically, proved true enough.
Over against this was the assurance of a veteran motorist whom we met at Crater6 Lake Lodge7 and who had just come from San Francisco over this route, that there was nothing to give the driver of a Pierce Forty-eight a moment’s uneasiness; though the road was very185 heavy and rough, a staunch, powerful car would have no difficulty. We were also reassured8 by the garage owner at Grants Pass, who declared that the natives thought little of the run to Crescent City and that a motor stage made the trip nearly every day in the year, though sometimes in bad weather, he admitted, the nearly obsolete9 but always reliable horse had to give them a lift.
We learned enough, however, to feel sure that considerably11 heavier work in mountaineering than we had as yet done awaited us, and this naturally caused us some uneasiness. At times when such feelings seized us concerning roads traveled by some one almost daily, we tried to realize the sensations of the pioneers, who confronted these awful solitudes12 without road or chart and at best with only treacherous13 savages14 to guide them over well-nigh impassable trails through mountain and forest. Such reflections made our misgivings15 about roads and routes seem little short of cowardly, and perhaps at times rather coerced16 our better judgment17.
We covered forty miles out of Grants Pass with little hint of the road terrors we expected to encounter before the close of the day. The road, fair to excellent, ran at first through cultivated fields and apple-laden orchards18; then it entered rounded hills, where the forests, fragrant19 with balsam pine, were interspersed20 with lovely186 green valleys dotted with numerous well-improved ranches22. There were signs of considerable activity in lumbering24 and we passed two large sawmills along the way.
At Waldo, a tiny village forty miles from Grants Pass, we recalled that the famous Oregon caves were only twelve miles eastward25 and regretted that our schedule did not permit a day’s delay to visit them. From here a picturesque26 trail leads to these so-called Marble Halls of Oregon, deep in the heart of the rugged27 mountains. These strange caves were discovered some fifty years ago by a hunter who pursued a wounded bear into a cavern28 in the mountain. The caves have not yet been fully29 explored, but there is known to be a series of lofty vaulted30 chambers31 rivaling those of the Mammoth32 Cave and hundreds of smaller apartments, with walls, ceilings, and pillars in old ivory and lighter33 colorings, all as delicately sculptured as though designed and executed by master artists. The roar of subterranean34 rivers is heard, seemingly overhead, and again beneath one’s feet, echoing from mysterious caverns35 as yet unentered even by the adventurous36 guides.
Beyond Waldo our real mountaineering began, and an incident occurred that caused us no small perturbation nor, looking back, can we feel that our uneasiness was unwarranted. Here187 a stranger walking along the road hailed us and as we paused in response to his signal, asked us to give him a lift to the next town. As he looked fairly reputable and carried no baggage, our first thought was that he might be a ranchman of the vicinity, and as there were four unoccupied seats in the big car, it seemed churlish to refuse, despite whatever distrust we might have of a stranger in such a lonely wilderness38. So we bade him climb in beside the driver and began the ascent39 of the stupendous grade leading over the first great range of the Cascades40. For nearly ten miles we followed the rough, stony41 road which flung its narrow loops around canyon42 and headland, often with a deep valley alongside. The steep slopes above and below us were clad with mighty43 pines and through these we caught occasional glimpses of an ever widening prospect44. It was only when we reached the summit of the range that the full magnificence of the scene broke upon our astonished vision. A vast panorama45 of rugged peaks—“a sea of wood in wild, unmeasured miles,” to quote the poet of the Sierras—stretched way inimitably in the thin, clear atmosphere until it was lost in a violet-blue haze46.
Our enjoyment47 of the wonderful scene was not unmixed, however, for by this time it had become clear to us that our self-invited passenger188 was a lunatic. He had talked much wild and silly chatter48 about a wonderful invention of his and a great fortune awaiting him in San Francisco, and given evidence by other unmistakable signs that he was more or less demented. It did not seem practicable to attempt to get rid of him at the time and we began the descent with increasing uneasiness as he continued to harass49 the driver with his wild talk. And if ever a driver needed to keep his head clear it was during this same descent; the road, a mere50 shelf in the rock, crawls along the precipitous mountainside while a vast abyss yawns below with a mad, boulder-vexed stream at the bottom. It was made far more trying to the nerves by the absence of trees or shrubbery to screen the precipice—a bare foot or two lay between our wheels and a sheer drop of say half a mile.
Our guest noted52 our perturbation and, turning to the lady, who had shrunk into the smallest possible space in the end of the capacious seat and was studiously refusing to even look at the road, he said,
It was not made the easier by the knowledge that a lunatic sat beside the driver, harmless, maybe, but we had no way of knowing that he was. In any event, when he wasn’t looking I189 slipped the Colt automatic, which had been our almost forgotten companion since we started, beneath our car robe, with the resolve that if he should attempt to lay hands on our driver on these appalling54 roads, there would be something doing. Fortunately, except for his incessant55 chatter, he was quite inoffensive and we looked forward anxiously to the next station on the road, where we determined56 to drop him, willy nilly.
It was a long, slow crawl to Patrick’s Creek57, to which an occasional signboard directed us, for our cautious driver averaged only seven or eight miles per hour, and, however anxious we were to get rid of our passenger, it was quite enough. The scenery was inspiring and picturesque but the road was more or less nerve-racking every mile of the way. Passing-places were only occasional, but, fortunately, we met no one after leaving Waldo.
Patrick’s Creek Hotel proved a small ranch21 house close by the road where meals are served and auto2 supplies sold to tourists. As usual, we had our lunch, but were glad to supplement it with one of the landlady’s home-made pies, which proved excellent indeed. For once we regretted having brought our lunch, since they told us that it was their practice to fry one of the numerous young chickens running about the190 place, “while you wait.” Here we had the peculiar59 sensation that comes from paying fifty cents per gallon for gasoline—our top notch60, I believe, except in Longwy, France, some years before.
“I get it by parcel post in sealed five-gallon cans,” said the innkeeper, who is also forest ranger37 in this district, “which is the only way the stage people will accept it for shipment.”
“In the hunting season we do,” he replied, “It’s a famous hunting ground. We could go up on yonder mountainside and start a dozen deer in an hour.”
“You ought to have plenty of venison at your hotel,” we ventured.
“Not a bit of it,” he replied in disgust. “The game law forbids serving it for pay and you are not even allowed to have any portion of a deer’s carcase on hand longer than ten days; you can’t sell it or ship it out of the county—there isn’t much sport in killing62 the poor brutes63 under such conditions. Still, hunters come here and kill the limit of three bucks64, but most of the venison goes to waste.”
When we resumed our journey our passenger, with considerable rambling65 talk, expressed his willingness to continue with us to San Francisco191 and even intimated that we might get a slice of the great fortune he had in prospect there; he evidently did not object to the car or the company and was quite willing to become a permanent member of our party. We succeeded in making him understand that we were not running a stage and that we felt we had done our share in the thirty-five-mile lift we had given him. We offered him a little financial assistance, if needed, but it was indignantly declined. He would soon have wealth beyond the dreams of avarice66. And so we bade him a glad farewell, with the mental resolve that we would pick up no more unknown pedestrians67. We were afterwards hailed by one or two knights68 of the road who, no doubt, thought us stingy snobs69 as we sailed past them in sublime70 indifference—but we had had our lesson. We saw added reason for such a course when we read later in a San Francisco paper that an autoist had been held up and robbed in the mountains by two foot pads whom he had generously given a ride.
Leaving the inn, we followed the yellow road which we could see far ahead, zigzagging71 up the rough mountainside before us. It led to another seemingly endless climb over steep, stony grades along the edge of precipitous slopes. A short distance from the hotel we saw a doe eyeing us curiously72 from the chaparral a few192 yards from the roadside. She seemed to realize that a lady deer is safe in California, even in the hunting season, for she showed little signs of fear. Had she been legitimate73 game we might probably have killed her with the Colt.
The climb over a stony road—enough to try every rivet74 in any car—continued for several miles. On coming to the summit, we did not immediately descend75, but continued for many miles, with slight ups and downs, along the crest76 of the Cascades—or is it the Coast Sierras?—the ranger said the point is still in dispute as to where one ceases and the other begins. It was a narrow, precarious77 trail that we followed, with only thin shrubbery to screen the forbidding slopes at its side—but what a magnificent and inspiring vista78 it opened to our delighted vision! Beneath us lay a vast, wooded canyon, thousands of feet in depth, and beyond it stretched an infinite array of pine-clad summits, seemingly without end, for the day was clear as crystal and only a thin haze hid the distance. They are building a new highway that will supersede79 this mountain trail and future tourists will gladly miss the thrills of the precarious road, but they will also miss much of the grandeur80 and beauty; to see the mountains one must climb the mountains to their very crests81. We shall always be glad that we saw the wild and inspiring vistas193 from many of these old-time roads which will pass into disuse when the improved highway comes.
Again we angled slowly down into a vast valley and climbed two more ranges before the cool, fresh ocean air struck our faces. To tell of the beauty and charm of the scenes that presented themselves to our eyes would be continual repetition; they were much like those we had encountered ever since entering the mighty hill ranges.
We were conscious of a sudden and overpowering change when we came within a dozen miles of the destination of our day’s run. Here we entered the Del Norte redwoods and many were the exclamations82 of wonder excited by the majesty83 and loveliness of these virgin84 forests. Glorious individual trees, ten to twenty feet in diameter, towering two to three hundred feet above us, crowded up to the roadside, standing85 so thickly that it was impossible to see ahead for any considerable distance. But most wonderful was the rank—almost tropical—appearance of the undergrowth. The ground was green with velvet86 moss87, and huge ferns with fronds88 several feet in length, intermingled with the metallic90 green of the huckleberry bushes. Many other shrubs91 and plants unknown to us joined to make up this marvelous tangle92 of greenery, the like of194 which we had never before seen. Occasionally we came upon a fallen tree cast down by storms of perhaps a century ago, but the dead giant had become the abode93 of riotous94 life, for every foot of his great trunk was covered with a rank growth of fern and shrub51. We even saw good-sized trees springing out of these long-dead redwoods. We had seen the redwoods of Tuolumne, Santa Cruz, and Mariposa, larger trees but utterly95 lacking the beauty of the riotous greenery of the groves96 of Del Norte.
A clear, green river spanned by a high iron bridge served to enhance the charm of the scene. We paused to drink of the ice-cold waters of a little roadside waterfall and to felicitate ourselves that we had not been dissuaded98 from the Crescent City road. It is a rough, steep, and dangerous road, we may admit, but this glorious forest repays one a thousand times. The accumulation of leaves and pine needles deposited through the centuries had made the soil beneath the trees a deep, soft mould, and to make the road passable it had been “corduroyed” for several miles with redwood slabs99, which slowed the car down to a snail’s pace. This was no hardship, however—surely one who does not expect to pass over the road again would never wish to hasten through such delightful100 scenery.
THROUGH THE DEL NORTE REDWOODS
From painting by Martella Lane
195 It was still four miles to Crescent City when we came out of the great forest and for this distance we ran through rather poorly improved farm lands. The ocean, which flashed into view as we approached the town, was indeed a welcome sight after our long exile in the hills. For many miles as we approached the town the trees at frequent intervals102 had borne signs calling attention to the merits of the Bay View Annex103, with the constant reiteration104 of “hot and cold water” as the chief attraction. So we sought the Bay View, a rambling, wooden building looking out on the harbor and were forthwith assigned to rooms in the “Annex” at the rear. While our quarters were far from elaborate, they were clean and comfortable, though the much-vaunted hot and cold water proved principally cold.
We had leisure to look about the town before supper and while there was little in the plain, straggling, wooden village to excite our interest, we learned that Crescent City has big ambitions and high hopes for the future.
“We have one of the best harbors on the whole western coast, about equally distant from San Francisco and Portland,” said a shopkeeper from whom we made a few purchases. “It is deep enough for ocean-going vessels105, so that little dredging will be necessary, and only needs protection of a sea wall to offer safe shelter for196 a whole fleet of ships. Congress has been interested in the project and only last year a committee of several of the leading members came here to investigate. All agreed that the government could well afford to spend five million dollars to improve the harbor and that the resources of the country about here warrant an appropriation106. If this is done and the railroad carried through from Grants Pass, Crescent City will become a city, indeed. There are two hundred billion feet of standing timber within a radius107 of two hundred miles from Crescent City, most of which would be converted into lumber23 and find an outlet108 through Crescent City Harbor. The rich Rogue109 River Valley, now at the mercy of the Southern Pacific Railroad, will gladly seek a cheaper outlet for its products and though it may not be apparent to a stranger, the agricultural products of Del Norte County are very considerable. Our butter, for instance, is considered the finest in the country and the Palace Hotel at San Francisco will not serve any other. Its excellence110 is due to the splendid grazing lands watered by an annual rainfall of sixty-eight inches. This also gives you the secret of the wonderful greenness of the great redwood forest which you so admired when coming to our city. Salmon111 and other fishing and packing are already very extensive and can be increased indefinitely.197 There are immense deposits of copper112 and iron ore between here and Grants Pass—particularly in the neighborhood of Waldo. Marble and other building stone are to be found within easy shipping113 distance. We have the finest summer climate on the Pacific Coast and splendid beaches, so that Crescent City is bound to become more and more of a summer resort—in fact, a great many people come here now in the summer time. Do you think our hopes for Crescent City’s future are ill-founded? Isn’t it reasonable to believe that when this harbor is improved and a railroad completed to both Grants Pass and Eureka that we may fairly expect a city of fifty thousand people or more?”
We did not take issue with our enthusiastic informant, though, indeed, it was hard to imagine a teeming114 city on the site of the lonely little village; but perhaps the same thing might have been said of Portland or Seattle fifty years ago. A start has really been made toward improving the harbor, for an initial appropriation of three hundred and ninety thousand dollars has been made by the War Department, to which Del Norte County has added the proceeds of a one-hundred-thousand-dollar bond issue. The chief industry of the town at present is lumbering, one company employing five hundred men,198 but the output is limited by the indifferent shipping facilities.
Crescent City has another ambition which is well worthy115 of realization—to have a large section of the magnificent forests near the town set aside as a national park. It would, indeed, be a calamity116 to our whole people to have all of this great grove97 wiped out by ax and fire, as has occurred near Eureka. The redwood groves already reserved do not and can not match the Del Norte forests in beauty and suitability as a natural playground. Here one can camp under the giants trees and live near to nature indeed, nor will he be troubled by such pests as flies, mosquitoes, scorpions117, rattlesnakes, and the like, for they are almost unknown in this section. From our own observation we can heartily118 second the declaration of a local writer to the effect that—
“The importance of this proposed Redwood Park to Humboldt and Del Norte Counties, the State of California, and to the whole of North America, even to the whole world, can scarcely be estimated. Within comparatively a few generations the giant redwood forests of California will be a thing of the past; the woodsman’s ax and the ravenous119 sawmills will have swept them away, even as the great pine and hardwood forests of Michigan and Wisconsin have been wiped out of existence.
199 “A billion or more feet of these giant forests preserved and protected for all time from destruction will form a priceless heritage for future generations—one of the greatest attractions California will then have, for it will bring pilgrims from all over the world. It will not be many generations before all the virgin forests on the North American Continent, save those protected in national and other forest reserves will be wiped out of existence.”
It would be hard to express the chagrin121 which we felt on looking from the window of the Bay View Annex on the morning following our arrival to find a heavy fog, almost bordering on a drizzle122, enveloping123 everything and even shrouding124 the near-by ocean from view. We were told that such fogs often lasted a week or more, so it did not seem worth while to wait another day at the Bay View in hope of clear weather. We set out with the forlorn hope that the fog might clear away as the sun rose higher.
For the first four or five miles out of the town we skimmed along over the most perfect boulevard of our tour—a wide, perfectly125 level, hard, smooth, dust-free surface, yet a road which cost nothing per mile and never had an hour’s work expended126 upon it by any man. It was the hard, firm, ocean beach which we traversed, so close to the sullen127 gray water that it lapped our200 wheels as we glided128 onward129. And lo, we beheld130, skipping joyously131 along on this same beach our unwelcome passenger of the previous day. He had evidently begged or bought transportation from Patrick’s Creek to Crescent City and was now away on a hundred-mile hike to Eureka, unless he could work his nerve on some passing car as he did on us. Nothing daunted132 by his rebuff at our parting, he cheerfully signified his desire to continue with us for the day, but we bade him hail and farewell without slackening the car’s sharp pace.
Our fine beach road ended all too soon in a wild plunge133 through the soft deep sand to the mainland, where we almost immediately began the ascent of a stiff, long grade, winding134 with many sharp turns through the closely standing pines. About midway a large car was parked with a broken axle, leaving barely room to squeeze past. Time and again as we ascended135 the mighty slope we came out upon bold headlands which on clear days afford endless views of the ocean a thousand feet or more below. We could hear the angry swish of the sea among the broken rocks at the base of the cliff, but the gray mist hid it from our eager eyes. It was, indeed, a disappointment, but we found some compensation as we climbed still higher on the fern-banked road. Near the summit we again entered201 the mighty redwoods which towered hundreds of feet above us. We were rising above the fog and the weirdly137 glorious effect of the sun’s rays as they shot through the thin vapor138 among the hoary139 trees was as fascinating as it is indescribable. The forest monarchs140 seemed literally141 ablaze142 with pale fire. The dull gray fog merged143 into a silvery vapor which floated among the titanic144 trunks and branches and long shafts145 of light radiated from their tops like a mighty halo. As we continued to ascend136 the air gradually cleared and a sky of the intensest blue shone above the trees—but it was only due to the altitude, for, coming out on a headland, we beheld the envious146 fog still shrouding the ocean far below. The sullen booming of the surf and the screams of sea birds came weirdly mingled89 from the unseen deeps, giving a strange sensation of mystery.
Back into the mighty forest we turned and for many miles followed the winding road, closely bordered by the giant trees. The corduroy on this road was in much better repair, some of it being new and made of closely laid square slabs. Here, again the riotous greenery beneath the trees delighted and amazed us. Fern fronds six feet long were common and moss, shrubbery, and vines flourished in wild profusion147 everywhere. We emerged on an open headland202 covered with bronzed fern and scattered148 shrubs, and strained our eyes for a glimpse of the silver sea through the lightening mass of vapor and we were rewarded with a faint shimmer149 here and there. Then came more miles of redwoods crowding the road so closely that we found difficulty in passing another car which met us here. The forest was strangely silent; we saw nothing of bird or animal life and only the boom of the ocean when we happened to come near the coast broke upon the uncanny stillness.
Again we came abruptly150 into the open and a long, sinuous151 descent brought us to Requa, a forlorn-looking little hamlet on the broad inlet of the Klamath River. They told us that half the people of the village were Indians and those whom we saw wore white man’s clothes and had the appearance of modest prosperity. Salmon fishing and two canneries employ the population during the fishing season. The wide, still river is crossed by ferry, a rude barge152 propelled by a gasoline launch, lashed101 alongside and capable of carrying three or four cars.
During our crossing our interest was centered on the ferryman’s daughter, a little miss of seven or eight summers, who swung on the chain at the bow of the boat. Utterly unconscious of her picturesque beauty or that she was being observed, she made one of the most delightful203 studies we had seen in many a day and made us long for the skill to execute a rapid sketch153. Her dark olive, oval face was regular and pleasing in features and her cheeks were tinged154 with red roses from the fresh sea air. Her heavy black hair was woven in a long braid and coiled about her head. She wore a plain slip of a dress and her deft156 little fingers were working on a head-dress of red and green cambric, which at times she fitted over her raven120 tresses with the air of a Fifth Avenue belle157 judging the merits of the latest Parisian creation in millinery. Then she removed it and eyed it critically; evidently it did not meet her artistic158 ideals, for she ripped it to pieces and began rearranging the brightly colored scraps159.
We were so much interested in her beauty and unconscious antics that we forgot all about the broad, green river we were crossing and therefore paused when we had scrambled160 up the opposite bank to gaze up the valley. We saw a noble stream, gleaming through the thin vapor that hovered161 above it and sweeping162 far up the canyon until it vanished in the densely163 wooded hills. The picturesque valley is included in the proposed Redwood National Park, which the citizens of Northern California hope to see established before the wholesale164 slaughter165 of these forests is begun.
204 We ran for a good many miles through a flat, swampy166 country dotted with reedy lagoons167, re-entering the redwoods near the Humboldt County line. We encountered a long, steady ascent with grades up to twenty per cent, which ultimately brought us to the ocean, which we had left for a time. The road, with occasional bends to the inland, followed the shore for the remainder of our day’s run and presented a continual panorama of delightful scenery. The sun was still tempered by the soft white mists and the ocean shone like burnished169 silver in the subdued170 light. The shore is exceedingly rugged and in many places out in the ocean were mighty detached rocks upon which the incoming waves broke into white, foaming171 masses.
The redwoods continued for many miles—mighty, symmetrical trees whose dimensions were hard to realize, but many were twenty feet in diameter and upwards172 of two hundred and fifty feet in height. It was only by comparison with some small object that their colossal173 size could be realized; we had grown so used to the gigantic that it palled174 upon our senses. Often they grew in groups, two, three, or more stems from a single base whose dimensions were simply staggering. We could not contemplate175 the majesty and beauty of these forest giants without a tinge155 of sadness—we know that the railroad205 is daily creeping nearer and that unless prompt measures are taken to protect them the time is not far away when only burned and blackened stumps176 will show where they stood, as we saw nearer Eureka. We parted company with them as one who leaves a very old and wise friend whom he feels that he may never see again, breathing meanwhile the prayer:
“O, forest Titans, may it be
Long, long, ere man with steel and fire
To end your centuried reverie.”
There were gayer colors on our road than the dull browns and dark greens of the redwoods, for along the creeks177 the maples178 flamed in autumnal scarlet179 or glowed with yellow gold in the dark forest aisles180. We passed through occasional open spaces, where we found belated wild flowers in full bloom—the purple foxglove, daisies, asters, and, more rarely, wild roses or azaleas smiled on us from the roadside. Not all the trees were redwoods, for we passed through closely standing groves where spruce, hemlock181, and other varieties predominated.
The road came close to the shore just before we reached Orick, a small village whose inn is a famous resort for hunters and fishermen, and from a considerable eminence182 we looked down206 on Freshwater Lagoon168, a fine body of water a mile long, literally alive with wild fowl183. It is famous for its fishing, as are Big Lagoon and Stone Lagoon, a few miles farther on. Here the sportsman may take cut-throat and steel-head trout184 to the law’s limit, often in an hour or two, and all kinds of water fowl are plentiful185 in season. In this vicinity also, they told us, is the best quail186 shooting on the Pacific Coast—quite enough to distress187 a devotee of rod and gun whom circumstances forced to hurry onward. There are splendid camping sites galore along this road, sites which appealed even to ourselves, who were never strongly predisposed to camp life.
Trinidad, the next hamlet, dates from Spanish days, when it had the prefix188 of Puerto—for it is located on a small but deep harbor, where the early seafarers occasionally took shelter. Remains189 of the old landing-place may still be seen, but no ships disturb the quietude of Trinidad to-day. There is a rustic190 resort inn here which caters191 to summer visitors and sportsmen.
So far the road has been natural dirt, ranging from fair to good, and the grades, though often considerable, have not been at all troublesome to the big car. At Trinidad we caught up with the stage which left Crescent City some207 time ahead of us, and were interested to find that the cars which make this trip nearly every day in the year were of the same manufacture as our own.
Beyond Trinidad the road had mostly been surfaced and some of it was really excellent. The country, however, for some miles was dismal192, indeed. Here was every evidence of a great forest fire of comparatively recent occurrence. Great blackened trunks were still standing, interspersed with stumps which showed that the country had been at least partially193 lumbered194 before the fire. The effect was melancholy195 and depressing, indeed, and brought to mind passages of Dante’s Inferno196. A few poor little houses, many of them deserted197, were scattered at intervals among the blackened stumps, and there were occasional cultivated patches of ground. No doubt the soil is excellent, but it will be many years before the giant stumps can be cleared away and the great holes left when they are burned or dynamited198, filled up. We noted on our maps that we were to cross Mad River and imagined a dashing cataract199 in keeping with the name. We found the most prosaic200 of tide-water streams, level and almost stagnant201, and the name, we were told, only referred to a quarrel between some early settlers in the section.
As we approached Arcata, fourteen miles208 by road from Eureka, though only half that distance directly across the bay, the country took on a much more prosperous look. The farm houses were neat with carefully kept lawns, and the well-cultivated fields ran down to the seashore. Arcata is a clean, bright-looking town, due to free application of paint to the wooden buildings, for wooden buildings are almost universal. A new eighty-thousand-dollar hotel was pointed202 to with due pride and one might do quite as well to stop here as in Eureka.
Beyond Arcata fine, level, dairy land prevails, fit for grazing the greater part of the year, and Humboldt County butter is quite as famous as that of Del Norte. Much of this land was originally forested with redwoods, and its splendid state of reclamation203 at present indicates that the forlorn, fire-blackened section we passed some miles back may have a future before it, after all. Huge redwood stumps remained along the road, each of them bearing a little garden of greenery flourishing upon the decay. The heavy rainfall of winter and the continual fogs of summer keep vegetation thrifty204 and green almost the entire year.
The road from Arcata skirts the shores of Humboldt Bay, which is nearly land-locked by a slender spit of sand. It is a good-sized body of water, some fourteen miles long and deep209 enough for ocean-going vessels, but an exceedingly treacherous coast in the vicinity militates against it as a harbor. A few days before our arrival a large steamer had gone to pieces on the rocks near by and a few months later a submarine and the cruiser Milwaukee, which undertook to rescue it, were both destroyed in this neighborhood.
Our first impression on coming into the business part of Eureka was of surprise to see a city of its size and importance almost wholly constructed of wood. The business blocks were nearly all of redwood, sometimes painted and carved to resemble stone, and the hotels, including the Vance, where we stopped, were of the same material. Of course, this is not so strange when one considers that redwood is by far the cheapest and most accessible building stuff in this region, but it is hard to associate permanence and substantial construction with huge wooden blocks in the business section of the city.
We reached our hotel about four o’clock, having been just eight hours in covering the ninety-four miles from Crescent City, including the half-hour we stopped for lunch—practically the same time occupied by the stages in making the trip. This may seem pretty slow, but it is all one should expect on this road if he adheres to sane205 and conservative driving.
210 The Vance, despite the rather unfavorable impression made by its wooden exterior206, proved well-appointed and comfortable inside. A large, cozily furnished, steam-heated room proved a pleasant haven207 after a chilly208 ride—for the wind had blown strongly all day from the sea, and when out of the shelter of the forest, it brought our whole supply of wraps and robes into use. The Vance was the only commercial hotel which we found operating on the “American plan” since leaving San Francisco, and its service throughout was very satisfactory, though its rates could not be classed as cheap. We should say, however, that a thoroughly209 modern hotel of approved construction would find a fine opening in Eureka.
We found time before dinner to look about the city, which was gaily210 decorated in bunting and evergreens211 for an Elks’ Convention to begin the next day. In fact, we had been warned that our lease on our room at the hotel could continue only for the night and our plan of taking a full day’s lay-off at Eureka was thus frustrated212. As usual in isolated213 California towns of any size, the shops and mercantile establishments generally seemed entirely214 to outclass the population figures, which in case of Eureka are not claimed to exceed fifteen thousand. Like our hotel, the interior of the business buildings was usually211 much more attractive than the exterior, and it was apparent that the merchants of the town were prepared to take care of all reasonable needs of the inhabitants as well as of transitory visitors. The necessity of this is easily apparent when we recall that San Francisco, the nearest city larger than Eureka, is two hundred and eighty-five miles distant—twelve hours’ ride over the recently completed railway. For Eureka at last has a railway, after having for many years enjoyed—or rather endured—the undesirable215 distinction of being the largest town in the United States without railroad service. The Northwest Pacific “Scenic Route” reached the town in 1915 and has the distinction, it is said, of being by far the costliest216 railroad of its length in America, an average of one hundred and thirty thousand dollars per mile having been expended in its construction. For nearly half its length it threads its way through the gigantic canyon of the Eel10 River, following the stream so closely that it is seldom out of sight. The scenery along this road, a local authority insists, is hardly to be surpassed in the whole country.
“As the train passes over the Eel River Divide, the Pacific, thirty miles distant, is seen, shimmering217 in the sunlight across a stretch of mighty wooded hills. As the descent along the upper Eel River Valley begins, the views become212 more and more entrancing. No mountain scenery in the foothills of the Swiss Alps is more beautiful than that which greets the traveler’s eyes along the Eel River.”
Perhaps such a digression on the scenery from a railroad train is out of place in a motor-travel book, but it may be permitted, possibly, in view of the fact that a far greater number of people go to Eureka by train than motor. And those who come by motor, if they pursue the Bell Springs route, will see the same Eel River scenery from even grander viewpoints, since in places the wagon218 road rises thousands of feet above the railway.
Greater numbers of motor cars will come to Eureka when the new state highway is completed, since the two old roads from the south are as difficult and dangerous as any in California and are considered quite impassable, even for horse-drawn vehicles, when the rains set in. Hence, before the completion of the railroad Eureka was quite cut off from communication with the rest of the world except by the sea and often violent storms rendered even that route precarious. Under such conditions it is marvelous that such an energetic, thriving city could have sprung up. One of the present roads closely follows the coast through Fort Bragg and Garberville, a poorly-kept and little used trail, and213 the other, farther inland, roughly follows the railroad, crossing the famous Bell Springs grade, which the state highway commission describes as “long the terror of motorists.” The new highway avoids this and will afford a year-round access to the city over safe and easy grades. It will also continue to Crescent City, placing the Humboldt and Del Norte redwoods within easy reach of motorists, all of whom should exert their influence to secure the proposed national park in this section.
Eureka was founded in 1850 by American settlers. The Spaniards appear to have overlooked this harbor and so far as known no ship entered it prior to 1806, when Captain Winship, a fur trader, who learned of the existence of the bay from the Indians, anchored his ship in its sheltered waters. The career of the town has been a quiet one, not even the customary Indian wars disturbing its serenity219. There are memories, however, of two distinguished220 Americans, for Lieut. Ulysses S. Grant was at one time stationed at old Fort Humboldt, slight remains of which may still be seen. It was also in Eureka where the youthful Bret Harte began his career as a journalist—officiating as compositor, printer’s devil, and assistant editor of the “Northern California,” then published in the town. Here he had a rather thrilling experience which might214 have cost the world one of its rarest literary geniuses—and actually cost him his job on the paper.
During the absence of the editor, he was left in charge of the paper—like Mark Twain under similar circumstances—and, like Mark, he at once proceeded to break over conventions. Outrages221 of the Whites against the Indians of the surrounding country were then common and were usually winked222 at by the editor, who thought more of the support of the citizens than the rights of the red man. A particularly cowardly massacre223 was perpetrated while Harte was in charge of the paper. Just how cowardly may be judged from a letter of one of the offenders224, who declared, “We have been searching the mountains, destroying villages, killing all males we could find, and capturing the women and children. We have killed about thirty altogether and now have twenty-eight captives in camp.” No one hated injustice225 and cruelty more than Bret Harte and in an editorial he scathingly condemned226 the murderers. This roused the anger of the community and a mob gathered with the avowed227 purpose of wrecking228 the newspaper plant and hanging the youthful scribe. Harte showed himself game to the last degree and held the mob at bay with two cocked pistols during probably215 the longest evening of his life. The timely arrival of a few cavalrymen from the fort probably saved his life, but his love of justice brought him a quick dismissal on the return of the owner of the paper. Perhaps this experience, after all, was a God-send to Harte’s budding genius. Had things gone too smoothly229 in his first essay at journalism230 he might have missed the rich experience that came of his nomadic231 career among the pioneer mining camps and settled down into the quiet ways of a backwoods editor.
点击收听单词发音
1 misgiving | |
n.疑虑,担忧,害怕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 auto | |
n.(=automobile)(口语)汽车 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 automobile | |
n.汽车,机动车 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 emphatic | |
adj.强调的,着重的;无可置疑的,明显的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 dissuade | |
v.劝阻,阻止 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 crater | |
n.火山口,弹坑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 lodge | |
v.临时住宿,寄宿,寄存,容纳;n.传达室,小旅馆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 reassured | |
adj.使消除疑虑的;使放心的v.再保证,恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 obsolete | |
adj.已废弃的,过时的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 eel | |
n.鳗鲡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 considerably | |
adv.极大地;相当大地;在很大程度上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 solitudes | |
n.独居( solitude的名词复数 );孤独;荒僻的地方;人迹罕至的地方 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 treacherous | |
adj.不可靠的,有暗藏的危险的;adj.背叛的,背信弃义的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 savages | |
未开化的人,野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 misgivings | |
n.疑虑,担忧,害怕;疑虑,担心,恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 );疑惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 coerced | |
v.迫使做( coerce的过去式和过去分词 );强迫;(以武力、惩罚、威胁等手段)控制;支配 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 orchards | |
(通常指围起来的)果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 fragrant | |
adj.芬香的,馥郁的,愉快的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 interspersed | |
adj.[医]散开的;点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 ranch | |
n.大牧场,大农场 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 ranches | |
大农场, (兼种果树,养鸡等的)大牧场( ranch的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 lumber | |
n.木材,木料;v.以破旧东西堆满;伐木;笨重移动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 lumbering | |
n.采伐林木 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 eastward | |
adv.向东;adj.向东的;n.东方,东部 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 rugged | |
adj.高低不平的,粗糙的,粗壮的,强健的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 cavern | |
n.洞穴,大山洞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 vaulted | |
adj.拱状的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 chambers | |
n.房间( chamber的名词复数 );(议会的)议院;卧室;会议厅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 mammoth | |
n.长毛象;adj.长毛象似的,巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 lighter | |
n.打火机,点火器;驳船;v.用驳船运送;light的比较级 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 subterranean | |
adj.地下的,地表下的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 caverns | |
大山洞,大洞穴( cavern的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 adventurous | |
adj.爱冒险的;惊心动魄的,惊险的,刺激的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 ranger | |
n.国家公园管理员,护林员;骑兵巡逻队员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 wilderness | |
n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等,荒漠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 ascent | |
n.(声望或地位)提高;上升,升高;登高 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 cascades | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 stony | |
adj.石头的,多石头的,冷酷的,无情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 canyon | |
n.峡谷,溪谷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 prospect | |
n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 panorama | |
n.全景,全景画,全景摄影,全景照片[装置] | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 haze | |
n.霾,烟雾;懵懂,迷糊;vi.(over)变模糊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 chatter | |
vi./n.喋喋不休;短促尖叫;(牙齿)打战 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 harass | |
vt.使烦恼,折磨,骚扰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 shrub | |
n.灌木,灌木丛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 scaly | |
adj.鱼鳞状的;干燥粗糙的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 appalling | |
adj.骇人听闻的,令人震惊的,可怕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 incessant | |
adj.不停的,连续的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 creek | |
n.小溪,小河,小湾 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 dire | |
adj.可怕的,悲惨的,阴惨的,极端的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 notch | |
n.(V字形)槽口,缺口,等级 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 patronage | |
n.赞助,支援,援助;光顾,捧场 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 killing | |
n.巨额利润;突然赚大钱,发大财 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 brutes | |
兽( brute的名词复数 ); 畜生; 残酷无情的人; 兽性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 bucks | |
n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 );钱;(英国十九世纪初的)花花公子;(用于某些表达方式)责任v.(马等)猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 );抵制;猛然震荡;马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 rambling | |
adj.[建]凌乱的,杂乱的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 avarice | |
n.贪婪;贪心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 pedestrians | |
n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 knights | |
骑士; (中古时代的)武士( knight的名词复数 ); 骑士; 爵士; (国际象棋中)马 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 snobs | |
(谄上傲下的)势利小人( snob的名词复数 ); 自高自大者,自命不凡者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 sublime | |
adj.崇高的,伟大的;极度的,不顾后果的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 zigzagging | |
v.弯弯曲曲地走路,曲折地前进( zigzag的现在分词 );盘陀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 legitimate | |
adj.合法的,合理的,合乎逻辑的;v.使合法 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 rivet | |
n.铆钉;vt.铆接,铆牢;集中(目光或注意力) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 descend | |
vt./vi.传下来,下来,下降 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 crest | |
n.顶点;饰章;羽冠;vt.达到顶点;vi.形成浪尖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 precarious | |
adj.不安定的,靠不住的;根据不足的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 vista | |
n.远景,深景,展望,回想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 supersede | |
v.替代;充任 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 grandeur | |
n.伟大,崇高,宏伟,庄严,豪华 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 crests | |
v.到达山顶(或浪峰)( crest的第三人称单数 );到达洪峰,达到顶点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 exclamations | |
n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 );感叹;感叹语;感叹词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 virgin | |
n.处女,未婚女子;adj.未经使用的;未经开发的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 moss | |
n.苔,藓,地衣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 fronds | |
n.蕨类或棕榈类植物的叶子( frond的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 mingled | |
混合,混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 ); 混进,与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 metallic | |
adj.金属的;金属制的;含金属的;产金属的;像金属的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 shrubs | |
灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 tangle | |
n.纠缠;缠结;混乱;v.(使)缠绕;变乱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 abode | |
n.住处,住所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 riotous | |
adj.骚乱的;狂欢的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 groves | |
树丛,小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 grove | |
n.林子,小树林,园林 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 dissuaded | |
劝(某人)勿做某事,劝阻( dissuade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 slabs | |
n.厚板,平板,厚片( slab的名词复数 );厚胶片 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 lashed | |
adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 intervals | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 annex | |
vt.兼并,吞并;n.附属建筑物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 reiteration | |
n. 重覆, 反覆, 重说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 vessels | |
n.血管( vessel的名词复数 );船;容器;(具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的)人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 appropriation | |
n.拨款,批准支出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 radius | |
n.半径,半径范围;有效航程,范围,界限 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 outlet | |
n.出口/路;销路;批发商店;通风口;发泄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 rogue | |
n.流氓;v.游手好闲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 excellence | |
n.优秀,杰出,(pl.)优点,美德 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 salmon | |
n.鲑,大马哈鱼,橙红色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 copper | |
n.铜;铜币;铜器;adj.铜(制)的;(紫)铜色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 shipping | |
n.船运(发货,运输,乘船) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 teeming | |
adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 );到处都是;(指水、雨等)暴降;倾注 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 calamity | |
n.灾害,祸患,不幸事件 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 scorpions | |
n.蝎子( scorpion的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 heartily | |
adv.衷心地,诚恳地,十分,很 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 ravenous | |
adj.极饿的,贪婪的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 raven | |
n.渡鸟,乌鸦;adj.乌亮的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 chagrin | |
n.懊恼;气愤;委屈 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 drizzle | |
v.下毛毛雨;n.毛毛雨,蒙蒙细雨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 enveloping | |
v.包围,笼罩,包住( envelop的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 shrouding | |
n.覆盖v.隐瞒( shroud的现在分词 );保密 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 expended | |
v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 );使用(钱等)做某事;用光;耗尽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 sullen | |
adj.愠怒的,闷闷不乐的,(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 glided | |
v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 onward | |
adj.向前的,前进的;adv.向前,前进,在先 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 beheld | |
v.看,注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 joyously | |
ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 daunted | |
使(某人)气馁,威吓( daunt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 plunge | |
v.跳入,(使)投入,(使)陷入;猛冲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 winding | |
n.绕,缠,绕组,线圈 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 ascended | |
v.上升,攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 ascend | |
vi.渐渐上升,升高;vt.攀登,登上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 weirdly | |
古怪地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 vapor | |
n.蒸汽,雾气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 hoary | |
adj.古老的;鬓发斑白的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 monarchs | |
君主,帝王( monarch的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 ablaze | |
adj.着火的,燃烧的;闪耀的,灯火辉煌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 merged | |
(使)混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 ); 相融; 融入; 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 titanic | |
adj.巨人的,庞大的,强大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 shafts | |
n.轴( shaft的名词复数 );(箭、高尔夫球棒等的)杆;通风井;一阵(疼痛、害怕等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 envious | |
adj.嫉妒的,羡慕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 profusion | |
n.挥霍;丰富 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 shimmer | |
v./n.发微光,发闪光;微光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 sinuous | |
adj.蜿蜒的,迂回的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 barge | |
n.平底载货船,驳船 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 sketch | |
n.草图;梗概;素描;v.素描;概述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 tinged | |
v.(使)发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 tinge | |
vt.(较淡)着色于,染色;使带有…气息;n.淡淡色彩,些微的气息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 deft | |
adj.灵巧的,熟练的(a deft hand 能手) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 belle | |
n.靓女 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 scraps | |
油渣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 scrambled | |
v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 );攀登;争夺;(军事飞机)紧急起飞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 hovered | |
鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 ); 靠近(某事物); (人)徘徊; 犹豫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 sweeping | |
adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 densely | |
ad.密集地;浓厚地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 wholesale | |
n.批发;adv.以批发方式;vt.批发,成批出售 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 slaughter | |
n.屠杀,屠宰;vt.屠杀,宰杀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 swampy | |
adj.沼泽的,湿地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 lagoons | |
n.污水池( lagoon的名词复数 );潟湖;(大湖或江河附近的)小而浅的淡水湖;温泉形成的池塘 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 lagoon | |
n.泻湖,咸水湖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 burnished | |
adj.抛光的,光亮的v.擦亮(金属等),磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 );被擦亮,磨光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 subdued | |
adj. 屈服的,柔和的,减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 foaming | |
adj.布满泡沫的;发泡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 upwards | |
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 colossal | |
adj.异常的,庞大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 palled | |
v.(因过多或过久而)生厌,感到乏味,厌烦( pall的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 contemplate | |
vt.盘算,计议;周密考虑;注视,凝视 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 stumps | |
(被砍下的树的)树桩( stump的名词复数 ); 残肢; (板球三柱门的)柱; 残余部分 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 creeks | |
n.小湾( creek的名词复数 );小港;小河;小溪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 maples | |
槭树,枫树( maple的名词复数 ); 槭木 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 scarlet | |
n.深红色,绯红色,红衣;adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 aisles | |
n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 hemlock | |
n.毒胡萝卜,铁杉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 eminence | |
n.卓越,显赫;高地,高处;名家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 fowl | |
n.家禽,鸡,禽肉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
184 trout | |
n.鳟鱼;鲑鱼(属) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
185 plentiful | |
adj.富裕的,丰富的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
186 quail | |
n.鹌鹑;vi.畏惧,颤抖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
187 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
188 prefix | |
n.前缀;vt.加…作为前缀;置于前面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
189 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
190 rustic | |
adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
191 caters | |
提供饮食及服务( cater的第三人称单数 ); 满足需要,适合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
192 dismal | |
adj.阴沉的,凄凉的,令人忧郁的,差劲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
193 partially | |
adv.部分地,从某些方面讲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
194 lumbered | |
砍伐(lumber的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
195 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
196 inferno | |
n.火海;地狱般的场所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
197 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
198 dynamited | |
v.(尤指用于采矿的)甘油炸药( dynamite的过去式和过去分词 );会引起轰动的人[事物] | |
参考例句: |
|
|
199 cataract | |
n.大瀑布,奔流,洪水,白内障 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
200 prosaic | |
adj.单调的,无趣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
201 stagnant | |
adj.不流动的,停滞的,不景气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
202 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
203 reclamation | |
n.开垦;改造;(废料等的)回收 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
204 thrifty | |
adj.节俭的;兴旺的;健壮的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
205 sane | |
adj.心智健全的,神志清醒的,明智的,稳健的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
206 exterior | |
adj.外部的,外在的;表面的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
207 haven | |
n.安全的地方,避难所,庇护所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
208 chilly | |
adj.凉快的,寒冷的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
209 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
210 gaily | |
adv.欢乐地,高兴地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
211 evergreens | |
n.常青树,常绿植物,万年青( evergreen的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
212 frustrated | |
adj.挫败的,失意的,泄气的v.使不成功( frustrate的过去式和过去分词 );挫败;使受挫折;令人沮丧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
213 isolated | |
adj.与世隔绝的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
214 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
215 undesirable | |
adj.不受欢迎的,不良的,不合意的,讨厌的;n.不受欢迎的人,不良分子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
216 costliest | |
adj.昂贵的( costly的最高级 );代价高的;引起困难的;造成损失的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
217 shimmering | |
v.闪闪发光,发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
218 wagon | |
n.四轮马车,手推车,面包车;无盖运货列车 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
219 serenity | |
n.宁静,沉着,晴朗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
220 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
221 outrages | |
引起…的义愤,激怒( outrage的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
222 winked | |
v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 );递眼色(表示友好或高兴等);(指光)闪烁;闪亮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
223 massacre | |
n.残杀,大屠杀;v.残杀,集体屠杀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
224 offenders | |
n.冒犯者( offender的名词复数 );犯规者;罪犯;妨害…的人(或事物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
225 injustice | |
n.非正义,不公正,不公平,侵犯(别人的)权利 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
226 condemned | |
adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
227 avowed | |
adj.公开声明的,承认的v.公开声明,承认( avow的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
228 wrecking | |
破坏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
229 smoothly | |
adv.平滑地,顺利地,流利地,流畅地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
230 journalism | |
n.新闻工作,报业 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
231 nomadic | |
adj.流浪的;游牧的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |