The racing4 gave him an outlet5 for his energy, a chance to give play to his growing muscles. Snorting, shying, and whinnying shrilly6 he would race around and around, his mane and tail flying, his nostrils7 flaring8. The exercise kept his body tough and hard. The blood of the chestnut9 stallion which flowed in his veins10 would not let him surrender to the peaceful existence offered by the sheltered meadow.
Midsummer found the little horse rapidly growing into a big and powerful brute11 with a body which combined95 the slender legs, the intelligent head, and the great heart of Lady Ebony with the rugged12 strength of his father. His eyes betrayed the wild horse in him. They flashed white rims16 when he was excited or angry and he bared his teeth savagely17 when roused.
One day Midnight heard sounds which excited him greatly. They came from the mesa above. He heard the pounding of many hoofs19 and above the nickering and snorting of mares rose the squeal21 of a stallion challenging the world defiantly22. Midnight was resting in the shade of the aspen grove24 after a wild run around the meadow. He dashed out into the open and stood staring at the top of the canyon wall.
As he stood there a horse appeared. A pinto filly stood with lowered head looking down into the canyon. She was a trim little mare20 with a lithe25, slender body and a yellow mane and tail which flowed in the breeze. Midnight called to her eagerly and she turned her head to locate him. Her ears pricked26 forward as she answered his call with a quick eager whinny. Instantly wild excitement surged through the black. He raced back and forth27, keeping in the open, looking up at the pinto as he danced and kicked.
The little mare seemed to appreciate his efforts. She edged closer to the rim15 and nickered softly. The sound of her call sent Midnight leaping through the timber, pounding around the trail he had made. As he flashed into the sunlighted spaces below the rim he looked up to see her standing28 still, cut sharply against the sky, looking down at him. Again Midnight raced around his beaten pathway. As he flashed past the crevice29 which barred him from escape he halted and stared at the wide crack in the rock shelf. The trail beyond that fissure30 led to the little mare!
Midnight backed away a few yards, lowered his head,96 and sniffed31. He suddenly lost his fear of the deep gash33 in the earth. With a defiant23 squeal he charged straight at the gaping34 crack. His flying hoofs sent rocks sailing into the canyon below. As he charged down on the barrier he gathered his hard muscles under him for the long leap. Like a black meteor he shot through the air. Leaping over barriers along this race course had given Midnight needed training. His body arched as he hurtled into space above the crevice. His forefeet reached for the far ledge35, landed and clung while he lashed13 with his hind36 feet in an attempt to pull himself to safety. For a moment he hung there, poised37 above the chasm38, plunging39 and struggling, then he stumbled forward, safe on the ledge trail.
Snorting and kicking, he pounded up the ledge until he came to the main trail leading out of Shadow Canyon. Doubling back along that trail he charged upward. With a clattering40 of loose stones he burst out on the edge of the meadow and halted to look for the pinto. The little mare had turned away from the rim. She stood looking at him, her neck arched, her mane blowing around her shoulders. She nickered and pawed at the grass tufts under her feet.
Midnight plunged41 toward her, eager to make friends. When he was within a few yards of her she whirled and fled. Midnight raced after her, calling wildly. The pinto ran toward the band of mares feeding in the center of the mesa. Above them the chestnut stallion stood guard, his sleek43 coat gleaming in the sun, his massive head erect44. His protruding45 eyes watched the pinto as she raced toward the mares with the black colt close behind her. Midnight’s speed was greater than that of the little mare and he was soon racing shoulder to shoulder with her.
A scream of rage broke from the chestnut stallion. With ears laid back, nostrils flaring, he charged to meet Midnight. His teeth were bared and his eyes flamed. He meant to finish this young upstart at once. Midnight saw97 him coming and shoved over against the little mare, heading her away from the band. The boss of the herd46 came on at top speed. He was running at an angle to the course the two colts had taken.
Midnight had no fear of the big stallion. He was so wildly glad to see a band of horses that he had no thought of battling any of them. The chestnut came on with terrific force. He struck Midnight a smashing blow which turned the colt halfway47 around and sent him staggering. Midnight twisted and fought to keep from going down. The chestnut reared and lashed out with his forefeet. His teeth reached for the colt’s shoulder and his scream rang across the meadow.
As Midnight righted himself a terrible rage took him. He wanted to fight the big stallion, to smash him, to tear him. Swerving48, he let the little mare dart49 into the band, then he whirled to meet the chestnut. The big stallion was eager for the kill. He had smashed young stallions before, driving them out of the band, and he expected to make short work of this fellow. Midnight answered the challenge by lunging to meet the leader’s second charge. The big stallion raised his heavy hoofs and met Midnight’s attack with smashing blows which battered50 the colt back. Pain brought a realization51 that the big stallion wanted to kill him just as the wolf pack had often tried. He dodged52 the next attack, but lunged in as the chestnut missed his target.
His feint only half saved him. The chestnut’s teeth ripped his shoulder and a crushing blow staggered him. Midnight leaped away from the next charge, which came as soon as the big fellow could wheel about. The little black was outweighed53 and his strength was nothing compared with that of the chestnut. The band of mares watched without showing much excitement. The pinto98 stood in their midst, her ears well forward, her eyes rolling.
When the chestnut charged again Midnight whirled and fled. He raced away down the meadow with the big stallion thundering after him. The chestnut was filled with savage18 eagerness. The victory was his and he meant to overtake this black stallion and kill him. But Midnight was the son of Lady Ebony, and had her fleetness. For a short distance he sprinted54 as fast as he could run and in that time discovered that he could easily outrun the big leader of the band. When he had satisfied himself of this he circled around the meadow whinnying defiantly and kicking up his heels.
The chestnut was wild with savage rage. He thundered after the flying colt, but though he strained every muscle he could not overtake Midnight. Nor could he seem to outwind or tire him. The colt raced and dodged without seeming to feel the terrific pace. Around the mesa they raced, then around again. The chestnut began to tire. His breath was whistling from his nostrils and his flanks were streaked55 with lather56. Suddenly he swerved57 and came to a halt beside the band of mares. Blowing and snorting he pawed defiantly, challenging Midnight to come and fight. Midnight halted and nickered eagerly to the pinto filly.
The pinto answered his call. This angered the chestnut and he whirled to lunge at her. Before the little mare could leap aside, his big body smashed against her and his teeth sank deep into the fleshy part of her back. Squealing58 and kicking, the pinto sprawled59 on her side in the grass. The chestnut reared threateningly as she scrambled60 to her feet. With a squeal of fright the pinto darted61 out of the band and ran away across the mesa. The chestnut did not follow far. He was watching Midnight, fearing the black would try to steal some of his harem.
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Midnight leaped after the pinto. He soon overtook her and raced along beside her. The chestnut stallion was furious. He forgot the other mares and plunged after the colts. His speed was great enough to overtake the pinto, and he forced her back into the band. Midnight charged the big fellow and the chestnut whirled to give battle. The filly raced in among the mares and stood watching.
The chestnut was eager to close with Midnight again. He lunged in and his weight sent Midnight staggering back. Then he lunged once more, before the black could get his balance. He landed squarely against Midnight’s shoulder and the colt went down. He rolled and lunged while massive hoofs pounded him and the chestnut’s teeth ripped gashes62 along his side. Finally Midnight staggered to his feet. He ducked drunkenly and saved himself from another smashing blow from the shoulder of the chestnut. Pain stabbed through his shoulder joint63 and hampered64 his speed as he tried to run away. The chestnut sensed that his victory was about to be complete. With squeals65 of triumph he charged on the colt. Midnight thought of the ledge trail where he had always found haven66 when wolves and cougars67 came. If he could reach that ledge he would make a stand.
Desperately68 the little stallion plunged toward the castle rocks. The chestnut overtook him and smashed him aside, but Midnight dodged and raced on, not stopping to fight. Again the chestnut smashed him, his teeth ripping gashes across Midnight’s rump. The black staggered and weaved under the terrible battering69 but he kept going. He reached the ledge and plunged upward with the chestnut slashing70 at his back, trying to smash him to the ground where he could finish the fight.
Midnight tried to whirl about on the ledge. He suddenly realized that if the big fellow got him trapped in the shelter at the end of the trail the chestnut would kill100 him. He managed to turn around and face the charging leader of the band. They smashed together and Midnight went down, sprawling72 and kicking on the narrow ledge. He rolled over and his hoofs slid over the rim. In a moment he was sliding down over the edge.
Screaming and pawing, the chestnut glared over the rim. He saw his adversary73 land on a shelf below and stagger slowly to his feet. The big stallion raced up and down the trail but saw no way to reach the colt below.
The spot where Midnight landed was only a few yards below the place where he had landed when the silvertip shoved him over the edge. He got to his feet panting and blowing. For a long time he stood trembling, favoring his pain-raked shoulder. Then with a squeal of defiance74 he hobbled along the ledge and down to the little meadow where he had lived before the band came to the mesa. He was eager to cross the crevice again and join the horses above, but when he reached the aspen grove he halted to ease the pains shooting through his shoulder. After a bit he moved on. He halted at the edge of the crevice and stood listening. He did not try to leap across the narrow chasm, he would have to wait until the pain left his shoulder. Above he could hear the triumphant75 snorting and calling of the chestnut stallion. Slowly he turned and walked back to the aspen grove. After a time he lay down on a bed of dead leaves and grass.
He lay still and listened. From the mesa came the sounds of the feeding herd. For a time the chestnut pranced76 about nickering and snorting. The mares fed eagerly, not paying any attention to him, except when he came close to one of them. The ears of the little horse in the aspen grove followed every sound intently. He snorted and struggled painfully to his feet when the chestnut blasted a warning to the mares. There was a rolling101 thunder of hoofs as the wild band charged across the mesa and into the timber. Midnight tried to race to the crevice but at the first step he stumbled and almost fell. Slowly he hobbled to the edge where he stood shaking his head and calling loudly. The rhythm of the pounding hoofs died away quickly and Midnight was alone again. He turned back and hobbled at a slow walk toward his bed in the aspen grove.
In the days which followed Midnight listened for the sound of racing hoofs and the whinny of the band, but the big stallion did not lead the mares back to the high mesa. He ranged far up on the side of the Crazy Kills where the trails were steep and broken and the meadows small and surrounded by dense77 cover. In the barrens close to timber line few cattle ranged and none of Major Howard’s riders cared to make the steep climb, knowing the stray cows that climbed up that high would come down long before roundup time.
Midnight dropped into his former way of living. As soon as his shoulder became sound he began making his usual rounds of the little race course. And many times he charged to the edge of the crevice where he would slide to a halt and stand snorting and shaking his head. His leg was still stiff, too stiff for so long a jump, and he did not have the nearness of mares to fill him with wild excitement. He did not forget the wild band and the pinto filly, but his wild desire for freedom was not hot and driving. His body filled out and his legs and chest took on a ruggedness78 which made him lose the coltish79 look.
The old beavers80 increased their efforts. Helped by a brood of youngsters, they cut trees and peeled bark from early morning until late at night. They had long since ceased to worry about being about by daylight. The seclusion81 of the little meadow had changed their habits a great deal. Their storehouses were bulging82 but they102 worked feverishly83 anyway, as though they were facing a famine period. And they built houses over the land openings where their runways came to the surface of the meadow, tall piles of mud and sticks, laced together and padded down into a tough, warm masonry84 which would keep out the biting frosts of winter. Midnight watched them lazily. He could not know they were expecting another hard winter. But he did have an uneasy feeling when the first frosts came. The wild strain in his blood stirred and he would have left the high country had he been free to go. One morning he trotted85 to the edge of the meadow and found it white with glistening86 frost. The white carpet disturbed him. He rushed to the edge of the crevice and stood there snorting and pawing. But he did not try the long jump.
The frosts deepened. The aspen leaves swirled87 down to cover the roots, the bulbs and the seeds bedded under the soft loam88. The grass turned brown and the big spruce trees standing close to the wall moaned as a cold wind swept down from the new snow fields high on the barren peaks of the Crazy Kills. The haze89 of an Indian summer day was swept away by the first snow of winter and again the world turned white and the air became snapping cold. Midnight put on his heavy robe of shaggy hair which turned the sharp blasts whirling downward.
The snow deepened and Midnight dug for grass. He moved his bedground to a needle-padded spot under a giant spruce where the snow never fell. Now he was interested only in a battle to keep his belly90 filled. He was still growing and his body demanded food for new muscles and sinews as well as for warmth. The storms came and the snow on the meadow became deeper and deeper. The mesa above was lashed by bitter winds but the sheltered meadow did not feel their lash14. On its surface the snow settled down in loose, deep smoothness which103 formed a warm blanket for the grass and the flowers. Great drifts formed along the rim above, fanned out by the wind and the drifting snow on the upper bench. Their white lips thrust far out over the edge of the canyon like the rounded curves of giant mushrooms.
One moonlit night as Midnight lay on his dry bed of needles he heard a strange sound and felt the earth tremble under him. The sound came from the rim above. He peered upward but could see nothing except the protruding snowbanks and the gleaming whiteness of the world outside his shelter. The sound was a deep, grating rumble91 that reminded him of distant thunder. One of the overhanging lips of snow had broken under the great weight of tons of snow and had settled down. For a few minutes it moved slowly, grinding rocks off the wall, settling, sliding, packing the snow into ice. Then its speed increased and the dull rumble broke into a terrible roar as thousands of tons of snow shot downward. Midnight leaped to his feet and trembled as he watched.
The mass of snow plunged and boiled as it shot downward. It seethed92 around a stand of spruce. The big trees, many of them several feet through at the butt93, jerked and swayed like saplings, then went down to be swallowed up by the maelstrom94 of ice and snow. Boulders95 were torn from their beds and from the face of the cliff. They were ground to sand in the maw of the slide. The whole cataract96 became dirty gray in color. Its roar shook the mesa as it poured into Shadow Canyon. A startled snowshoe rabbit, routed from his bed under a fallen log, leaped into the air, plunged forward, then bounced high as the dirty mass caught him. For a moment he hung above the seething97 mass, then dropped into it and vanished, ground to nothingness.
The slide struck the lower end of the little mesa. It shot into the deep crevice, filling it full, then boiling over to104 roll on down into the main canyon. It cut a swath through the spruces and aspens growing on the steep slope of the big gulch98. The timber went down like grass before the bar of a mowing99 machine.
The white death was only a few seconds in passing but it struck fear into the heart of the black stallion. He snorted and pawed excitedly. And he was not alone in his fear. Up on the high mesa the old timber-line buck100, who had returned to his feed grounds, leaped from his bed under a spruce. He stood staring out into the white world, rigid101, shaking his heavy antlers and grunting102. Every wild creature within hearing stopped and listened, tense, ready to break and run. They all knew the terror of the white death and each knew that to try to dash away would be useless because of the terrible speed and the uncertainty103 of the course it would take. They would try to run if it came hurtling upon them, but until they saw it they did not move. It was an hour before Midnight bedded down again.
In the morning the colt plowed104 his way to his feed ground near the beaver lake. He stood for a time staring at the spot where the crevice had been. The deep fissure was filled with dirty snow, yellow, resin-oozing timbers, torn and ripped apart, and broken boulders. It was packed as hard as the frozen surface of a lake. Carefully Midnight ventured out on it and found it solid. His weight did not make it settle at all.
He worked his way step by step across the dirty snow, then headed up the trail leading to the meadow. The snow was so deep he had to plunge42, rising on his forefeet and lunging. When he rested the snow pressed close against his sides. Coming out on top he halted to look out across the meadow. A sharp, icy wind cut at him and loose snow swirled around his legs. He saw the old timber-line buck digging for weeds near the timber. Midnight105 whinnied eagerly and plunged toward the ancient one. The old buck jerked up his head and watched Midnight as he floundered across the mesa. They met and stood staring at each other for some time. Finally the buck turned his back and began digging again. Midnight set to work pawing for grass.
Bitter winds swept across the meadow and cut through Midnight’s shaggy coat. Snow swirled before the wind and piled into deep drifts. The mesa was more bleak105 and icy than the little meadow under the rim. And the grass was not so good when it was uncovered. But the black stallion had companionship of a sort. He worked busily all that day to fill his belly with grass. At dusk he headed toward his haven under the rim. Darkness settled before he reached the canyon trail and the moonlight gleamed on the snow. Midnight was tired when he reached his dry bed under the big spruce.
After that he stayed on the bench under the rim. It was warmer down under the wall and the grass was easier to get. He could dig without much effort. Now that he knew he could leave the little mesa whenever he chose he did not want to go.
Up on the high mesa the old buck was finding life hard. He had no help in digging for food and his legs were stiff, with a tightness he had never felt before. Age was slowing the spring in his powerful muscles. His horns still held patches of velvet106. The patches clung in dry, furry107 spots on his polished lances. The old buck had not had the energy to polish them and scrub them as he should have. Midnight did not know that he had deserted108 his friend at a time when the ancient monarch109 needed him badly.
Late one afternoon the black stallion was startled by a familiar cry. A pack of lobo wolves had swept out of the spruce at the edge of the meadow above. Their cry came when they sighted the old timber-line buck, and the cry106 was the cry of the kill. Midnight plunged to his shelter under the big spruce and stood there tossing his black mane. His eyes rolled white and he snorted savagely.
Up on the mesa the old buck had whirled about to dash for the safety of the timber and the castle rocks. He had ample time to escape and should have outdistanced his pursuers, but his stiffened110 legs refused to lift with the smooth power he had always possessed111. Before he was halfway to cover the pack was leaping around him, their yellow eyes flaming, their red tongues jerking over white fangs112.
There on the flat mesa the old monarch made his last stand. With sweeping113, thrusting antlers he met the leaping attack of the gray killers114. They darted and lunged and dodged around him, keeping up a mad chorus of yelping115 and snarling116. The old buck could not guard his vital parts against all the wolves. One after another they slid under his frantic117, thrusting antlers to rip gashes in his flanks and legs. Snorting and blowing savagely he fought with horns and lashing71 hoofs.
The wolves knew they would win and they kept up their ripping, tearing tactics, never fastening on the big fellow long enough for his sharp hoofs to strike them. Weakened by the loss of blood, staggering as each new wound opened, the old fellow fought his way stubbornly toward the timber. Every foot of his retreating trail was marked by bloody118, trampled119 snow.
One of the wolves, taking advantage of the slowing thrusts of the old buck’s antlers, dodged in and slashed120 the tendons of a hind leg. Slowly, with antlers still lashing, the old monarch settled down into the snow and lay beating with his forelegs and jerking his head. Instantly every wolf was on him and their howls were more savage than before.
The end of the monarch was the destined121 end of all107 wild dwellers122. The end of a life of struggle and constant alertness. The law of the wild was fulfilled. While youth and vigor123 gave him power and speed the buck lived and went his way, but when that strength slipped from him he went down before the gray killers.
Under the big spruce Midnight stood listening to the growling124 and snarling of the pack as they tore the warm flesh from the bones of the old buck. He watched and waited, expecting the pack to come leaping down the ledge trail and across the slide-filled fissure. But they did not scent125 him because the wind always blew off the high mesa and seldom came up out of the canyon except in the spring. When the killers had stripped the bones and cracked the ones their powerful jaws126 could break they left the mangled127 carcass and raced away through the moonlight, seeking another victim.
Then the little fox came out of his den32 and a pair of coyotes trotted up from the shadows under the spruce at the lower end of the mesa. The little fox and the coyotes fought over the bones, dragging them away to spots where they could lie down and gnaw128 them or crack them and lick the still warm marrow129 fat from their centers.
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1
beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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canyon
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| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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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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outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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rims
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| n.（圆形物体的）边( rim的名词复数 )；缘；轮辋；轮圈 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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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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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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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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squeal
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| v.发出长而尖的声音；n.长而尖的声音 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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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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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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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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crevice
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| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
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fissure
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| n.裂缝；裂伤 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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gash
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| v.深切，划开；n.(深长的)切(伤)口；裂缝 | |
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gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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chasm
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| n.深坑，断层，裂口，大分岐，利害冲突 | |
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plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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40
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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41
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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42
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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43
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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44
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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45
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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46
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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47
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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48
swerving
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的现在分词 ) | |
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49
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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50
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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51
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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52
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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53
outweighed
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| v.在重量上超过( outweigh的过去式和过去分词 )；在重要性或价值方面超过 | |
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54
sprinted
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| v.短距离疾跑( sprint的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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56
lather
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| n.(肥皂水的)泡沫，激动 | |
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57
swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
squealing
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的现在分词 ) | |
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59
sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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60
scrambled
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| 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 | |
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61
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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62
gashes
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| n.深长的切口（或伤口）( gash的名词复数 )v.划伤，割破( gash的第三人称单数 ) | |
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63
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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64
hampered
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65
squeals
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| n.长而尖锐的叫声( squeal的名词复数 )v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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66
haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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67
cougars
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| n.美洲狮( cougar的名词复数 ) | |
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68
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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69
battering
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| n.用坏，损坏v.连续猛击( batter的现在分词 ) | |
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70
slashing
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| adj.尖锐的；苛刻的；鲜明的；乱砍的v.挥砍( slash的现在分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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71
lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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72
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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73
adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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74
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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75
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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76
pranced
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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77
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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78
ruggedness
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| 险峻，粗野； 耐久性； 坚固性 | |
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79
coltish
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| adj.似小马的；不受拘束的；活泼的 | |
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80
beavers
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| 海狸( beaver的名词复数 )； 海狸皮毛； 棕灰色； 拼命工作的人 | |
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81
seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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82
bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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83
feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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84
masonry
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| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
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85
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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86
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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87
swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88
loam
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| n.沃土 | |
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89
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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90
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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91
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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92
seethed
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| （液体）沸腾( seethe的过去式和过去分词 )； 激动，大怒； 强压怒火； 生闷气(~with sth|~ at sth) | |
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93
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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94
maelstrom
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| n.大乱动；大漩涡 | |
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95
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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96
cataract
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| n.大瀑布，奔流，洪水，白内障 | |
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97
seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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98
gulch
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| n.深谷，峡谷 | |
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99
mowing
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| n.割草，一次收割量，牧草地v.刈，割( mow的现在分词 ) | |
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100
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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101
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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102
grunting
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| 咕哝的，呼噜的 | |
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103
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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104
plowed
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| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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105
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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106
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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107
furry
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| adj.毛皮的；似毛皮的；毛皮制的 | |
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108
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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109
monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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110
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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111
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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112
fangs
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| n.（尤指狗和狼的）长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 )；（蛇的）毒牙；罐座 | |
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113
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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114
killers
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| 凶手( killer的名词复数 )； 消灭…者； 致命物； 极难的事 | |
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115
yelping
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| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的现在分词 ) | |
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116
snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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117
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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118
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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119
trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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120
slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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121
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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122
dwellers
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| n.居民，居住者( dweller的名词复数 ) | |
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123
vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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124
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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125
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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126
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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127
mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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128
gnaw
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| v.不断地啃、咬；使苦恼，折磨 | |
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129
marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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