Sam’s tired, blue eyes stared out over his “stompin’ ground,” which was a high mesa overlooking the blue depths of Shadow Canyon6. Across the mesa meandered7 a chain of castle rocks. This outcropping was red and yellow in color. It stood on edge, silent evidence of the upheaval8 which had formed the Crazy Kill Mountains millions of years before. Sam’s toothless gums clamped down on the stem of his cold pipe. Keeping the pipe right side up was the heaviest work Sam planned for that morning.
Out in a lush meadow which crowded like a green carpet around the castle rocks there was plenty of healthy contrast to the lazy inactivity that filled Sam. He let his eyes wander fondly over the scene. Up near the base of the biggest castle five fat yellowbelly whistlers2 romped10 about among the rocks. A sixth sat like a round ball of silver fur, perched on the top of a high rock. The old rockchuck on guard was as relaxed and lazy as Sam, except for his beady eyes. Those eyes saw everything that moved, as far away as the spruce woods which bordered the upper side of the mesa.
Sam studied the yellowbelly whistlers with a spark of interest in his faded eyes. They were yellowish animals with long, silvery hairs covering their brown coats, giving them a shining appearance when they romped in the sun. They had dark-brown heads and tails, and a whitish band across their faces. They rolled through the grass and over the rocks, front end up, hind12 end up, rocking along on their stubby legs.
Many smaller fellows courted the protection of the yellowbellies, making good use of the sharp eyes of the sentinel whistler perched high on his lookout14. A dozen rockchips dodged15 about in the grass while as many more sat on little rocks and stared away toward the snow-capped peaks of the Crazy Kill Range. These potbellied little brownies of the high country were well content with the crumbs16 from the great one’s table. The keen eyes and the ready blast of warning from the high rock removed their chief worries. The sentinel whistler was sure to announce the arrival of the swift-hawk, the laughing coyote, the martens, or the bobcat. There were many other enemies of the air and the forest and the whistler watched for and spotted17 all of them.
Then there was the calico chip, a two-striped ground squirrel whose vast energy always made Sam feel tired. The calico chips dashed about with an energy which had undoubtedly18 been intended for some much larger animal, but must have been misplaced when Mother Nature laid out the blueprints19 of creation. The calico chips were always too busy chasing bugs20 or gathering3 and storing seeds to pause for meditation21. They left foolish gawking into space to the potbellied rockchips. But their little ears were always tuned22 to catch the warning blast of the big whistler.
There was a sprinkling of lesser23 chipmunks25, a dozen or more. Sam noted26 with satisfaction that their number was increasing. He had brought two pairs in with him several summers before. They were active, noisy little fellows, dashing about, hoisting27 their tails like flags when they came to a halt. Every so often one of them would dash to a rock and jump on top of it. He would sit very straight and burst into song.
“Chock! Chock! Chock!” in quick succession, like the rattle28 of an old alarm clock. Sometimes the song would be pitched higher and would go “Check, check, check, chir-r-r-up!” No sooner had one chipmunk24 mounted his song perch11 than all the others would dart29 to theirs, always the same perches30. The meadow would ring with their chorus.
Their round of music never failed to disturb the fat sentinel whistler. He would shake his silver robe, stretch his neck, then blast three short, sharp notes on his whistle, after which he would settle back with a deep chuckle31.
Sam’s pipe always rolled to the corner of his mouth and turned upside down when the chorus began. One fumbling32 hand would pull out his ancient, silver watch and he would fix his gaze fiercely on the second hand. From the chorus he would select one voice and count the “chocks” while he timed the singer. One hundred and seventy “chocks” per minute was the best time he had ever recorded. The poorest, seventy per minute, was made by a fellow whose little round belly9 hinted that he might have a bit of rockchip blood in him.
From far down the meadow, where a clear stream4 foamed33 over ragged34 rocks, came the eager whinny of a horse. Sam’s eyes lighted, and he shoved the big, silver watch into his pocket. Up the meadow galloped35 a trim black mare37. Her mane flowed in the wind as she shook her head, and kicked her heels recklessly.
“Purty, right purty,” Sam muttered as he took his pipe out of his mouth.
The trim mare slowed to a trot38 as she neared the cabin. With a toss of her head and a playful leap to one side, she trotted39 up to Sam and extended her soft muzzle40, nickering eagerly.
“Mornin’, Lady Ebony,” Sam said affectionately. “Think mebby ol’ Sam’s got a lump o’ sugar?”
Lady Ebony pawed and nickered.
Sam dug a hand into his pants pocket and brought out two dingy41 lumps of sugar. He dusted off a grain or two of tobacco and a little chaff42, then held one of them out.
“Jest a bite, ol’ gal,” he said.
Lady Ebony picked the sugar from between his thumb and finger with a dainty movement of her lips. She crunched43 the lump eagerly, and when it was gone she pricked44 her ears forward and pawed.
Sam grinned widely. “Dang me, if you can’t count,” he said.
The other lump of sugar was extended and Lady Ebony took it. Sam let the forelegs of the chair down and got to his feet stiffly. He patted the glistening45 neck of the mare and talked softly to her. Lady Ebony accepted the caresses46. Sam sat down again and the mare nosed around the cabin door a while before trotting47 out into the meadow where she set to feeding on the tall grass.
The yellowbelly on the lookout perch paid no attention to the mare. The calico chips and the chipmunks5 went on chasing bugs and hunting seeds. They knew the black mare was a friend and that her enemies were their enemies, the cougar48 and the gray wolf.
Sam sucked on his pipe. His eyes followed Lady Ebony. Ever since she was a wobbly colt she had summered in this high pasture. She carried the brand of Major Howard, an Easterner who had come west to raise cattle and horses. He had many horses on the range and paid little attention to any but his purebreds which he kept at the ranch49 in the valley. But Sam knew a fine horse. He had owned many slim, tough saddlers like the black mare. He was too old and stiff to ride but he wanted to own the black mare, just to have her as a pal50. He had babied her and petted her until she was devoted51 to him.
Sam looked into the cold bowl of his pipe. He wanted to smoke, but his tobacco was inside the cabin. It was a terrible nuisance the way he forgot things like that. His eyes shifted to the fat sentinel on the rock. The yellowbelly was sitting up very straight. Suddenly he shook himself and whistled shrilly52. Instantly the calico chips, the rockchips, and the chipmunks vanished into the grass. The feeding whistlers romped to their holes at the base of the biggest castle rock.
“Tarnation!” Sam muttered angrily. He reached back inside his door, and dragged out an ancient single-barreled shotgun. Laying the gun across his knees he squinted53 up into the sky.
“Thet durn hawk’s been askin’ fer it,” he muttered.
But the danger signal did not herald54 an air raid. Sam heard the thudding of ironshod hoofs55. He did not bother to turn around. A horseman galloped up to his door and halted. The rider bent56 down and greeted Sam.
“Morning, Sam.”
6 “Mornin’, major,” Sam answered. A slow grin parted his straggling beard.
Major Howard’s gray eyes roved over the meadow, and came to rest on the black mare. The major was an energetic, hot-tempered person who rode hard and drove hard bargains. The easy way of the western mountain people irritated him. He respected Sam’s squatter57 rights to the mesa and the old cabin because he had more grass than he needed.
“I was wonderin’, major,” Sam began slowly, “if you wouldn’t sell me that black mare. I’d kind of like to have her. Got a feeling like she’s a pal, havin’ her here so much.”
The major laughed and his gray eyes moved back to Sam’s face. “That mare is purebred racing58 stock, Sam. I never paid much attention to her until I saw her on the run the other day. She’s fast, the fastest thing I have loose on the range. This fall she’ll clean up the cow-pony races at the state fair.” The major chuckled59.
“Me and the filly has hit it off right nice. I thought mebby you’d sell her,” Sam said gently.
The major looked down at Sam and his eyes twinkled. “Tell you what, Sam,” he said jokingly. “I never had anything I wouldn’t sell if I got my price. I’ll sell you that black filly for five hundred dollars.” He bent forward until the saddle horn creased60 his ample waistline. “But I get to race her at the fair.”
The major kept his face straight. He was sure Sam didn’t have ten dollars to his name. The old prospector62 always managed to scratch together enough dust to buy a few groceries, but never had more than that. He nodded his head. This would be a good joke to tell the boys at7 the ranch. His eyes dropped to the ancient shotgun, and to keep from laughing he asked abruptly63:
“What have you been shooting?”
“Got her charged with rock salt an’ bird shot,” Sam explained seriously. “Makes an ol’ gray wolf hit it lickety-split. And one of them swift-hawks shore claws air fit to shake out his tail feathers when I tech him up.” He grinned widely.
The major nodded. “Glad you keep that gun handy. It will keep wolves and cougars64 away from the mare.” He recalled stories the old hands on the ranch told about Sam’s youthful prowess with a carbine and a forty-five Colt. He supposed the old prospector’s eyes were so bad he had to use a scatter-gun.
“Got a shank o’ venison on the stove. Cold, but makes right nice chawin’,” Sam said hospitably65, but he didn’t move.
“Thanks, but I’ll have to be hitting the trail. I want to ride down along the west drift fence today.” The major clicked his tongue, and touched the flanks of his spirited horse with his spurs. He galloped away over the meadow.
Sam sat looking out across the waving grass. Five hundred dollars. And he hadn’t missed the amusement which greeted his offer to buy the mare. Sam was irritated. He wanted the filly more than ever now. He smiled and mumbled67 to himself.
He got stiffly to his feet and moved into the cabin. Setting the old gun just inside the door he took a muslin sack from the table and filled his pipe. Then he absent-mindedly laid the sack back where it had been. He shuffled69 about the room looking at the objects he had hung on the walls, a worn horseshoe, a belt with a holster containing a forty-five Colt of the frontier model, several8 bright pictures cut from calendars. Finally he remembered he hadn’t lighted his pipe. He shuffled to where a packing box was nailed to the wall back of the stove and got several matches from a rusty70 tomato can. After lighting71 the pipe he puffed72 contentedly73.
That day Sam stirred around more than usual. He made up a pack of food and small articles which he wrapped in a blanket roll. The pack was set beside the door. The job took up most of the afternoon.
The next morning Sam was up early. Lady Ebony came galloping74 across the meadow for her morning ration75 of lump sugar. As he gave it to her he talked in a low, confidential76 voice to the mare.
“I don’t reckon nobody but you and me knows that ol’ Sam’s got him a claim back under the rim36.” He chuckled. “Reckon, Lady, it’ll take ol’ Sam ’bout three weeks to pan out five hundred in yaller dust.” He patted her sleek77, black neck. “You jest stay around here an’ wait in this medder where there’s good grass. The ol’ yallerbelly’ll keep an eye out for wolves and cougars.”
The mare watched as he shouldered his pack and trudged78 slowly up the slope. She did not follow him, but she nickered several times. At the edge of the spruce Sam turned around and waved his arm.
Lady Ebony arched her neck and trotted out into the meadow. The fat whistler on the high rock chuckled and his beady eyes twinkled brightly as he watched her. The sun wheeled higher, warming the grass, drinking up the dew. The black mare wandered down the meadow. She came to a halt near a sharp ledge79 which broke off into Shadow Canyon. From the blue depths rose the roar of Crazy River. Lady Ebony stirred uneasily. A feeling of deep unrest filled her, an urge to run far, to seek other horses. After a time she wandered back into the meadow and began feeding, but she jerked up[Pg 9] her head often, listening, staring into the twilight80 of the spruce.
A few yards from where the black mare fed, a little hill lifted semibarren, yellow clay. It stood in sharp contrast to the lushness of the green meadow. On this round knob a prairie-dog town was located. The main section of the village was a busy scene, with dogs moving, bellies13 close to the ground, in quick sprints81 from one grass patch to another or romping82 through the meadow grass. Sam had brought several pairs of dogs to the mesa. He liked the busy little fellows and had been lonesome until he had a town started. The dogs posted sentinels but they could not see far. The dog sentinels depended on the yellowbelly. They listened for his blasting whistle of warning.
One of the sentinels sat on a mound83. His short tail jerked, but no other part of him moved. Suddenly the air was split by the warning whistle of the big sentinel on the high rock. The dog sentinels repeated the warning in a wild chorus of “skr-skrr’s.” Dogs raced in from the meadow. They paused for a moment to sit upright on their mounds84, then they went down their slides to the tunnels below the ground. Out from the ground came their defiant85 voices, “squit-tuck! squit-tuck!”
A lank66 coyote stepped out of a clump86 of rose brier close to the spruce woods. He stood gazing disgustedly over the meadow, his green eyes watching the yellowbellies as they romped to their dens87 at the base of the castle rocks. The whistlers had warned the dogs and ground squirrels of his presence. He ran at a lope across the meadow. Lady Ebony snorted and shook her head as he passed. Her eyes followed the glinting sun on his fur. When he had vanished down the trail which led into Shadow Canyon she returned to her feeding.
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收听单词发音
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1
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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alder
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| n.赤杨树 | |
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willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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canyon
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| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
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meandered
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| （指溪流、河流等）蜿蜒而流( meander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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upheaval
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| n.胀起，(地壳)的隆起；剧变，动乱 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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romped
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| v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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bellies
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| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
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lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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blueprints
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| n.蓝图，设计图( blueprint的名词复数 ) | |
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20
bugs
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| adj.疯狂的，发疯的n.窃听器( bug的名词复数 )；病菌；虫子；[计算机]（制作软件程序所产生的意料不到的）错误 | |
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21
meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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22
tuned
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| adj.调谐的，已调谐的v.调音( tune的过去式和过去分词 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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23
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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chipmunk
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| n.花栗鼠 | |
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chipmunks
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| n.金花鼠( chipmunk的名词复数 ) | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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hoisting
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| 起重，提升 | |
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28
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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29
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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30
perches
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| 栖息处( perch的名词复数 )； 栖枝； 高处； 鲈鱼 | |
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31
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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32
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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foamed
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| 泡沫的 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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39
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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40
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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41
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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42
chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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43
crunched
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的过去式和过去分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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44
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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45
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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46
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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47
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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48
cougar
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| n.美洲狮；美洲豹 | |
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49
ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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50
pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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51
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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52
shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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53
squinted
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| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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54
herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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55
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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56
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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57
squatter
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| n.擅自占地者 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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59
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
creased
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的过去式和过去分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 皱皱巴巴 | |
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61
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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62
prospector
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| n.探矿者 | |
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63
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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cougars
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| n.美洲狮( cougar的名词复数 ) | |
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65
hospitably
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| 亲切地，招待周到地，善于款待地 | |
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66
lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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67
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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69
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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70
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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71
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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72
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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73
contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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74
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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75
ration
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| n.定量(pl.)给养，口粮；vt.定量供应 | |
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76
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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77
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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78
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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79
ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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80
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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81
sprints
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| n.短距离的全速奔跑( sprint的名词复数 )v.短距离疾跑( sprint的第三人称单数 ) | |
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82
romping
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| adj.嬉戏喧闹的，乱蹦乱闹的v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的现在分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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83
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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84
mounds
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| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
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85
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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86
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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87
dens
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| n.牙齿，齿状部分；兽窝( den的名词复数 )；窝点；休息室；书斋 | |
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