He would arrive with a chain of broken-down skeletons, tied head to tail, file their teeth, blister5 and fire their game legs and turn them loose in the sheltered bottoms for a rest cure. At the end of three months, when the bloom was on their new coats, he would trim their feet, pull manes and tails, give an artistic6 touch here and there with the shears7, paint out blemishes8, make old teeth look like new and depart with a string of apparently9 gamesome youngsters frolicking in his tracks.
It was his practice to pitch his winter camp in a small coppice about two and a half miles north of Bosula. It was no man’s land, sheltered by a wall of rocks from the north and east, water was plentiful10 and the trees provided fuel. Moreover, it was secluded11, a weighty consideration, for the gypsy dealt in other things besides horses, in the handling of which privacy was of the first import. In short he was a receiver of stolen goods and valuable articles of salvage12. He gave a better price than the Jew junk dealers in Penzance because his travels opened a wider market and also he had a reputation of never “peaching,” of betraying a customer for reward—a reputation far from deserved, be it said, but he peached always in secret and with consummate13 discretion14.
He did lucrative15 business in salvage in the west, but the traffic in stolen goods was slight because there were no big towns and no professional thieves. The few furtive16 people who crept by night into the little wood seeking the gypsy were mainly thieves by accident, victims of sudden overwhelming temptations. They seldom bargained with Pyramus, but agreed to the first price offered, thrust the stolen articles upon him as if red-hot and were gone, radiant with relief, frequently forgetting to take the money.
“I am like their Christ,” said Pyramus; “they come to me to be relieved of their sins.”
In England of those days gypsies were regarded with well-merited suspicion and hunted from pillar to post. Pyramus was the exception. He passed unmolested up and down his trade routes, for he was at particular pains to ingratiate himself with the two ruling classes—the law officers and the gentry17—and, being a clever man, succeeded.
The former liked him because once “King” Herne joined a fair there would be no trouble with the Romanies, also he gave them reliable information from time to time. Captain Rudolph, the notorious Bath Road highwayman, owed his capture and subsequent hanging to Pyramus, as did also a score of lesser18 tobymen. Pyramus made no money out of footpads, so he threw them as a sop19 to Justice.
The gentry Pyramus fawned20 on with the oily cunning of his race. Every man has a joint21 in his harness, magistrates22 no less. Pyramus made these little weaknesses of the great his special study. One influential23 land owner collected snuff boxes, another firearms. Pyramus in his traffickings up and down the world kept his eyes skinned for snuff boxes and firearms, and, having exceptional opportunities, usually managed to bring something for each when he passed their way, an exquisite25 casket of tortoise-shell and paste, a pair of silver-mounted pistols with Toledo barrels. Some men had to be reached by other means.
Lord James Thynne was partial to coursing. Pyramus kept an eye lifted for greyhounds, bought a dog from the widow of a Somersetshire poacher (hung the day before) and Lord James won ten matches running with it; the Herne tribe were welcome to camp on his waste lands forever.
But his greatest triumph was with Mr. Hugo Lorimer, J. P., of Stane, in the county of Hampshire. Mr. Lorimer was death on gypsies, maintaining against all reason that they hailed from Palestine and were responsible for the Crucifixion. He harried26 them unmercifully. He was not otherwise a devout27 man; the persecution28 of the Romanies was his sole form of religious observance. Even the astute29 Pyramus could not melt him, charm he never so wisely.
This worried King Herne, the more so because Mr. Lorimer’s one passion was horses—his own line of business—and he could not reach him through it.
He could not win the truculent30 J. P. by selling him a good nag24 cheap because he bred his own and would tolerate no other breed. He could not even convey a good racing31 tip to the gentleman because he did not bet. The Justice was adamant32; Pyramus baffled.
Then one day a change came in the situation. The pride of the stud, the crack stallion “Stane Emperor,” went down with fever and, despite all ministrations, passed rapidly from bad to worse. All hope was abandoned. Mr. Lorimer, infinitely33 more perturbed34 than if his entire family had been in a like condition, sat on an upturned bucket in the horse’s box and wept.
To him entered Pyramus, pushing past the grooms35, fawning36, obsequiously37 sympathetic, white with dust. He had heard the dire38 news at Downton and came instanter, spurring.
Might he humbly39 crave40 a peep at the noble sufferer? . . . Perhaps his poor skill might effect something. . . . Had been with horses all his life. . . . Had succeeded with many cases abandoned by others more learned. . . . It was his business and livelihood41. . . . Would His Worship graciously permit? . . .
His Worship ungraciously grunted42 an affirmative. Gypsy horse coper full of tricks as a dog of fleas43. . . . At all events could make the precious horse no worse. . . . Go ahead!
Pyramus bolted himself in with the animal, and in two hours it was standing44 up, lipping bran-mash from his hand, sweaty, shaking, but saved.
Mr. Hugo Lorimer was all gratitude45, his one soft spot touched at last. Pyramus must name his own reward. Pyramus, both palms upraised in protest, would hear of no reward, honored to have been of any service to such a gentleman.
Departed bowing and smirking46, the poison he had blown through a grating into the horse’s manger the night before in one pocket, the antidote47 in the other.
Henceforward the Herne family plied48 their trade undisturbed within the bounds of Mr. Lorimer’s magistracy to the exclusion49 of all other gypsies and throve mightily50 in consequence.
He had been at pains to commend himself to Teresa Penhale, but had only partly succeeded. She was the principal land owner in the valley where he wintered and it was necessary to keep on her right side.
The difficulty with Teresa was that, being of gypsy blood herself, she was proof against gypsy trickery and exceeding suspicious of her own kind. He tried to present her with a pair of barbaric gold earrings51, by way of throwing bread upon the waters, but she asked him how much he wanted for them and he made the fatal mistake of saying “nothing.”
Pyramus went on the other tack53, pretended not to recognize her as a Romni, addressed her in English, treated her with extravagant54 deference55 and saw to it that his family did the same.
It worked. Teresa rather fancied herself as a “lady”—though she could never go to the trouble of behaving like one—and it pleased her to find somebody who treated her as such. It pleased her to have the great King Herne back his horse out of her road and remain, hat in hand, till she had passed by, to have his women drop curtsies and his bantlings bob. It worked—temporarily. Pyramus had touched her abundant conceit56, lulled57 the Christian58 half of her with flattery, but he knew that the gypsy half was awake and on guard. The situation was too nicely balanced for comfort; he looked about for fresh weight to throw into his side of the scale.
One day he met Eli, wandering up the valley alone, flintlock in hand, on the outlook for woodcock.
Pyramus could be fascinating when he chose; it lubricated the wheels of commerce. He laid himself out to charm Eli, told him where he had seen a brace59 of cock and also some snipe, complimented him on his villainous old blunderbuss, was all gleaming teeth, geniality61 and oil. He could not have made a greater mistake. Eli was not used to charm and had instinctive62 distrust of the unfamiliar63. He had been reared among boors64 who said their say in the fewest words and therefore distrusted a talker. Further, he was his father’s son, a Penhale of Bosula on his own soil, and this fellow was an Egyptian, a foreigner, and he had an instinctive distrust of foreigners. He growled65 something incoherent, scowled67 at the beaming Pyramus, shouldered his unwieldy cannon68 and marched off in the opposite direction.
Pyramus bit his fleshy lip; nothing to be done with that truculent bear cub—but what about the brother, the handsome dark boy? What about him—eh?
He looked out for Ortho, met him once or twice in company with other lads, made no overtures69 beyond a smile, but heeled his mare70 and set her caracoling showily.
He did not glance round, but he knew the boy’s eyes were following him. A couple of evenings after the last meeting he came home to learn that young Penhale had been hanging about the camp that afternoon.
The eldest71 Herne son, Lussha, had invited him in, but Ortho declined, saying he had come up to look at some badger72 diggings. Pyramus smiled into his curly beard; the badger holes had been untenanted for years. Ortho came up to carry out a further examination of the badger earths the very next day.
Pyramus saw him, high up among the rocks of the carn, his back to the diggings, gazing wistfully down on the camp, its tents, fires, and horses. He did not ask the boy in, but sent out a scout73 with orders to bring word when young Penhale went home.
The scout returned at about three o’clock. Ortho, he reported, had worked stealthily down from the carn top and had been lying in the bracken at the edge of the encampment for the last hour, imagining himself invisible. He had now gone off towards Bosula. Pyramus called for his mare to be saddled, brushed his breeches, put on his best coat, mounted and pursued. He came up with the boy a mile or so above the farm and brought his mount alongside caracoling and curveting. Ortho’s expressive74 eyes devoured75 her.
“Good day to you, young gentleman,” Pyramus called, showing his fine teeth. Ortho grinned in return.
“Wind gone back to the east; we shall have a spell of dry weather, I think,” said the gypsy, making the mare do a right pass, pivot76 on her hocks and pass to the left.
“Yeh,” said Ortho, his mouth wide with admiration77.
King Herne and his steed were enough to take any boy’s fancy; they were dressed to that end. The gypsy had masses of inky hair, curled mustaches and an Assyrian beard, which frame of black served to enhance the brightness of his glance, the white brilliance78 of his smile. He was dressed in the coat he wore when calling on the gentry, dark blue frogged with silver lace, and buff spatter-dashes. He sat as though bolted to the saddle from the thighs79 down; the upper half of him, hinged at the hips81, balanced gracefully82 to every motion of his mount, lithe83 as a panther for all his forty-eight years.
And the mare—she was his pride and delight, black like himself, three-quarter Arab, mettlesome84, fine-boned, pointed85 of muzzle86, arched of neck. Unlike her mates, she was assiduously groomed87 and kept rugged88 in winter so that her coat had not grown shaggy. Her long mane rippled89 like silken threads, her tail streamed behind her like a banner. The late sunshine twinked on the silver mountings of her bridle90 and rippled over her hide till she gleamed like satin. She bounded and pirouetted along beside Ortho, light on her feet as a ballerina, tossed her mane, pricked91 her crescent ears, showed the whites of her eyes, clicked the bit in her young teeth, a thing of steel and swansdown, passion and docility92.
“You like my little sweet—eh? She is of blood royal. Her sire was given to the Chevalier Lombez Muret by the Basha of Oran in exchange for three pieces of siege ordnance95 and a chiming clock. The dam of that sire sprang from the sacred mares of the Prophet Mahomet, the mares that though dying of thirst left the life-giving stream and galloped96 to the trumpet98 call. There is the blood of queens in her.”
“She is a queen herself,” said Ortho warmly.
Pyramus nodded. “Well said! I see you have an eye for a horse, young squire99. You can ride, doubtless?”
“Yes—but only pack-horses.”
“So—only pack-horses, farm drudges—that is doleful traveling. See here, mount my ‘Rriena,’ and drink the wind.” He dropped the reins101, vaulted102 off over the mare’s rump and held out his hand for Ortho’s knee.
The gypsy smiled his dazzling, genial60 smile. “Surely—an you will. There is nothing to fear; she is playful only, the heart of a dove. Take hold of the reins . . . your knee . . . up you go!”
He hove the boy high and lowered him gently into the saddle.
“Stirrups too long? Put your feet in the leathers—so. An easy hand on her mouth, a touch will serve. Ready? Then away, my chicken.”
He let go the bridle and clapped his palms. The mare bounded into the air. Ortho, frightened, clutched the pommel, but she landed again light as a feather, never shifting him in the saddle. Smoothly104 she caracoled, switching her plumy tail, tossing her head, snatching playfully at the bit. There was no pitch, no jar, just an easy, airy rocking. Ortho let her gambol105 on for a hundred yards or so, and then, thinking he’d better turn, fingered his off rein100. He no more than fingered the rein, but the mare responded as though she divined his thoughts, circled smoothly and rocked back towards Pyramus.
“Round again,” shouted the gypsy, “and give her rein; there’s a stretch of turf before you.”
Again the mare circled. Ortho tapped her with his heels. A tremble ran through her, an electric thrill; she sprang into a canter, from a canter to a gallop97 and swept down the turf all out. It was flight, no less, winged flight, skimming the earth. The turf streamed under them like a green river; bushes, trees, bowlders flickered106 backwards107, blurred108, reeling. The wind tore Ortho’s cap off, ran fingers through his hair, whipped tears to his eyes, blew jubilant bugles109 in his ears, drowning the drum of hoofs110, filled his open mouth, sharp, intoxicating111, the heady wine of speed. He was one with clouds, birds, arrows, all things free and flying. He wanted to sing and did so, a wordless, crazy caroling. They swept on, drunk with the glory of it. A barrier of thorn stood across the way, and Ortho came to his senses. They would be into it in a minute unless he stopped the mare. He braced112 himself for a pull—but there was no need; she felt him stiffen113 and sit back, sat back herself and came to a full stop within ten lengths. Ortho wiped the happy tears from his eyes, patted her shoulder, turned and went back at the same pace, speed-drunk again. They met the gypsy walking towards them, the dropped cap in hand. He called to the mare; she stopped beside him and rubbed her soft muzzle against his chest. He looked at the flushed, enraptured114 boy.
“She can gallop, my little ‘Rriena’?”
“Gallop! Why, yes. Gallop! I . . . I never knew . . . never saw . . . I . . .” Words failed Ortho.
Pyramus laughed. “No, there is not her match in the country. But, mark ye, she will not give her best to anybody. She felt the virtue115 in you, knew you for her master. You need experience, polish, but you are a horseman born, flat in the thigh80, slim-waisted, with light, strong hands.” The gypsy’s voice pulsed with enthusiasm, his dark eyes glowed. “Tcha! I wish I had the schooling116 of you; I’d make you a wizard with horses!”
“Oh, I wish you would! Will you, will you?” cried Ortho.
Pyramus made a gesture with his expressive hands.
“I would willingly—I love a bold boy—but . . .”
“Yes?”
Pyramus shrugged117 his shoulders. “The lady, your mother, has no liking118 for me. She is right, doubtless; you are Christian, gentry, I but a poor Rom . . . still I mean no harm.”
“She shall never know, never,” said Ortho eagerly. “Oh, I would give anything if you would!”
Pyramus shook his head reprovingly. “You must honor your parents, Squire; it is so written . . . and yet I am loath119 to let your gifts lie fallow; a prince of jockeys I could make you.”
He bit his finger nails as though wrestling with temptation. “See here, get your mother’s leave and then come, come and a thousand welcomes. I have a chestnut120 pony121, a red flame of a pony, that would carry you as my beauty carries me.”
He vaulted into the saddle, jumped the mare over a furze bush, whirled about, waved his hat and was gone up the valley, scattering122 clods. Ortho watched the flying pair until they were out of sight, and then turned homewards, his heart pounding, new avenues of delight opening before him.
Out of sight, Pyramus eased Rriena to a walk and, leaning forward, pulled her ears affectionately. “Did he roll all over you and tug123 your mouth, my sweetmeat?” he purred. “Well, never again. But we have him now. In a year or two he’ll be master here and I’ll graze fifty nags124 where I grazed twenty. We will fatten3 on that boy.”
Ortho reported at the gypsy camp shortly after sun-up next morning; he was wasting no time. Questioned, he swore he had Teresa’s leave, which was a lie, as Pyramus knew it to be. But he had covered himself; did trouble arise he could declare he understood the boy had got his mother’s permission.
Ortho did not expect to be discovered. Teresa was used to his being out day and night with either Bohenna or Jacky’s George and would not be curious. The gypsies had the head of the valley to themselves; nobody ever came that way except the cow-girl Wany, and she had no eyes for anything but the supernatural.
The riding lessons began straightway on Lussha’s red pony “Cherry.” The chestnut was by no means as perfect a mount as the black mare, but for all that a creditable performer, well-schooled, speedy and eager, a refreshing125 contrast to the stiff-jointed, iron-mouthed farm horses. Pyramus took pains with his pupil. Half of what he had said was true; the boy was shaped to fit a saddle and his hands were sensitive. There was a good deal of the artist in King Herne. It pleased him to handle promising126 material for its own sake, but above all he sought to infect the boy with horse-fever to his own material gain.
The gypsy camp saw Ortho early and late. He returned to Bosula only to sleep and fill his pockets with food. Food in wasteful127 plenty lay about everywhere in that slip-shod establishment; the door was never bolted. He would creep home through the orchard128, silence the dogs with a word, take off his shoes in the kitchen, listen to Teresa’s hearty129 snores in the room above, drive the cats off the remains130 of supper, help himself and tiptoe up to bed. Nobody, except Eli, knew where he spent his days; nobody cared.
The gypsies attracted him for the same reason that they repelled131 his brother; they were something new, something he did not understand.
Ortho did not find anything very elusive132 about the males; they were much like other men, if quicker-witted and more suave133. It was the women who intrigued134 and, at the same time, awed135 him. He had watched them at work with the cards, bent136 over the palm of a trembling servant girl or farm woman. What did they know? What didn’t they know? What virtue was in them that they should be the chosen mouthpieces of Destiny? He would furtively137 watch them about their domestic duties, stirring the black pots or nursing their half-naked brats138, and wonder what secrets the Fates were even then whispering into their ringed ears, what enigmas139 were being made plain to those brooding eyes. He felt his soul laid bare to those omniscient140 eyes.
But it was solely141 his own imagination that troubled him. The women gave him no cause; they cast none but the gentlest glances at the dark boy. Sometimes of an evening they would sing, not the green English ballads142 and folk-songs that were their stock-in-trade, but epics143 of Romany heroes, threnodies144 and canzonets.
Pyramus was the principal soloist145. He had a pliant146, tuneful voice and accompanied himself on a Spanish guitar.
He would squat147 before the fire, the women in a row opposite him, toss a verse across to them, and they would toss back the refrain, rocking to the time as though strung on a single wire.
The scene stirred Ortho—the gloomy wood, the overhanging rocks, the gypsy king, guitar across his knees, trumpeting148 his wild songs of love and knavery149; and the women and girls, in their filthy150, colorful rags, seen through a film of wood smoke, swaying to and fro, to and fro, bright eyes and barbaric brass151 ornaments152 glinting in the firelight. On the outer circle children and men lay listening in the leaf mold, and beyond them invisible horses stamped and shifted at their pickets153, an owl66 hooted154, a dog barked.
The scene stirred Ortho. It was so strange, and yet somehow so familiar, he had a feeling that sometime, somewhere he had seen it all before; long ago and far away he had sat in a camp like this and heard women singing. He liked the boastful, stormy songs, “Invocation to Timour,” “The Master Thief,” “The Valiant155 Tailor,” but the dirges156 carried him off, one especially. It was very sweet and sad, it had only four verses and the women sang each refrain more softly than the one before, so that the last was hardly above a whisper and dwindled157 into silence like the wind dying away—“ai?, ai?; ai?, ai?.” Ortho did not understand what it was about, its name even, but when he heard it he lost himself, became some one else, some one else who understood perfectly158 crept inside his body, forced his tears, made him sway and feel queer. Then the gypsy women across the fire would glance at him and nudge each other quietly. “See,” they would whisper, “his Rom grandfather looking out of his eyes.”
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1
dealers
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| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
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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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3
fatten
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| v.使肥，变肥 | |
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fattening
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| adj.（食物）要使人发胖的v.喂肥( fatten的现在分词 )；养肥（牲畜）；使（钱）增多；使（公司）升值 | |
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blister
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| n.水疱；(油漆等的)气泡；v.(使)起泡 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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shears
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| n.大剪刀 | |
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blemishes
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| n.（身体的）瘢点( blemish的名词复数 )；伤疤；瑕疵；污点 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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salvage
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| v.救助，营救，援救；n.救助，营救 | |
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consummate
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| adj.完美的；v.成婚；使完美 [反]baffle | |
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discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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lucrative
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| adj.赚钱的，可获利的 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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sop
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| n.湿透的东西，懦夫；v.浸，泡，浸湿 | |
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fawned
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| v.（尤指狗等）跳过来往人身上蹭以示亲热( fawn的过去式和过去分词 )；巴结；讨好 | |
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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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magistrates
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| 地方法官，治安官( magistrate的名词复数 ) | |
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influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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26
harried
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| v.使苦恼( harry的过去式和过去分词 )；不断烦扰；一再袭击；侵扰 | |
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devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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persecution
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| n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
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astute
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| adj.机敏的，精明的 | |
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truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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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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adamant
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| adj.坚硬的，固执的 | |
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infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
grooms
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| n.新郎( groom的名词复数 )；马夫v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的第三人称单数 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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36
fawning
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| adj.乞怜的，奉承的v.（尤指狗等）跳过来往人身上蹭以示亲热( fawn的现在分词 )；巴结；讨好 | |
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37
obsequiously
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38
dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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39
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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40
crave
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| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
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41
livelihood
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| n.生计，谋生之道 | |
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42
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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43
fleas
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| n.跳蚤( flea的名词复数 )；爱财如命；没好气地（拒绝某人的要求） | |
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44
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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45
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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46
smirking
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| v.傻笑( smirk的现在分词 ) | |
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47
antidote
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| n.解毒药，解毒剂 | |
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48
plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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49
exclusion
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| n.拒绝，排除，排斥，远足，远途旅行 | |
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50
mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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51
earrings
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| n.耳环( earring的名词复数 )；耳坠子 | |
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52
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
tack
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| n.大头钉；假缝，粗缝 | |
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54
extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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55
deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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56
conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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57
lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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58
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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59
brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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60
genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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61
geniality
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| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
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62
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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63
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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64
boors
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| n.农民( boor的名词复数 )；乡下佬；没礼貌的人；粗野的人 | |
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65
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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66
owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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67
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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69
overtures
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| n.主动的表示，提议；（向某人做出的）友好表示、姿态或提议( overture的名词复数 )；（歌剧、芭蕾舞、音乐剧等的）序曲，前奏曲 | |
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70
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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71
eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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72
badger
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| v.一再烦扰，一再要求，纠缠 | |
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73
scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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74
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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75
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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76
pivot
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| v.在枢轴上转动；装枢轴，枢轴；adj.枢轴的 | |
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77
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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78
brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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79
thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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80
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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81
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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82
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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83
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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84
mettlesome
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| adj.（通常指马等）精力充沛的，勇猛的 | |
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85
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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86
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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87
groomed
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| v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的过去式和过去分词 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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88
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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89
rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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90
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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91
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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92
docility
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| n.容易教，易驾驶，驯服 | |
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93
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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94
glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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95
ordnance
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| n.大炮，军械 | |
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96
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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97
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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98
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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99
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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100
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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101
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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102
vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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103
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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104
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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105
gambol
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| v.欢呼，雀跃 | |
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106
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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108
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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109
bugles
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| 妙脆角，一种类似薯片但做成尖角或喇叭状的零食； 号角( bugle的名词复数 )； 喇叭； 匍匐筋骨草； （装饰女服用的）柱状玻璃（或塑料）小珠 | |
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110
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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111
intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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112
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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113
stiffen
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| v.(使)硬，(使)变挺，(使)变僵硬 | |
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114
enraptured
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| v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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115
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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116
schooling
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| n.教育；正规学校教育 | |
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117
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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118
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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119
loath
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| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
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120
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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121
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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122
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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123
tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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124
nags
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| n.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的名词复数 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的第三人称单数 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
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125
refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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126
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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127
wasteful
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| adj.（造成）浪费的，挥霍的 | |
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128
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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129
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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130
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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131
repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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132
elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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133
suave
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| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
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134
intrigued
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| adj.好奇的，被迷住了的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的过去式)；激起…的兴趣或好奇心；“intrigue”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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135
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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136
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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137
furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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138
brats
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| n.调皮捣蛋的孩子( brat的名词复数 ) | |
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139
enigmas
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| n.难于理解的问题、人、物、情况等，奥秘( enigma的名词复数 ) | |
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140
omniscient
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| adj.无所不知的；博识的 | |
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141
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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142
ballads
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| 民歌，民谣，特别指叙述故事的歌( ballad的名词复数 )； 讴 | |
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143
epics
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| n.叙事诗( epic的名词复数 )；壮举；惊人之举；史诗般的电影（或书籍） | |
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144
threnodies
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| n.挽歌( threnody的名词复数 )；哀歌；悲哀；哀悼 | |
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145
soloist
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| n.独奏者，独唱者 | |
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146
pliant
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| adj.顺从的；可弯曲的 | |
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147
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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148
trumpeting
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| 大声说出或宣告（trumpet的现在分词形式） | |
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149
knavery
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| n.恶行，欺诈的行为 | |
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150
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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151
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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152
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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153
pickets
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| 罢工纠察员( picket的名词复数 ) | |
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154
hooted
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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155
valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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156
dirges
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| n.挽歌( dirge的名词复数 )；忧伤的歌，哀歌 | |
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157
dwindled
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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