[25]
It was midwinter when he came home from his last voyage, and had his cabin fitted up, and the first night he slept in it a furious storm arose. It was terribly cold, and old Mrs. Gaylord, Uncle Dick’s mother (with the maternal8 instinct still strong within her), thought of her son away up in the top of the building, and wondered if he did not need tucking up in bed. She seemed to forget that long years had passed since she had packed him away in his crib and knelt at his side while he whispered “Our Father,” and that during those years her little helpless Dick had grown into a bold, resolute10 man, had roamed in every climate under the sun, and faced death in a thousand terrible shapes. The mother forgot all this. To her the hearty old sea-dog was still her little Dick, and needed looking after. Heedless of the storm, she found her way to the top of the house and into the sailor’s quarters; and after putting extra clothing on the bed, she wrapped the quilts around his feet and tucked the edges into the bunk12, to keep them from falling off on the floor—the weary mariner13 snoring terrifically during the whole proceeding14. When she went out she left a lighted lamp on the table, thinking that perhaps he might want something[26] during the night, and that he could not find it conveniently in the dark.
Shortly after Mrs. Gaylord left the room, Uncle Dick awoke with a start, and with one furious kick and an impatient sweep of his arm, undid15 all the work his thoughtful mother had been so long in performing. He saw and heard something at the same moment. He saw the lamp on the table and heard the howling of the storm. He had spent four years on his last voyage, and having slept but three nights on shore, it was natural that he should imagine himself still on board his vessel16. He was out on the floor in an instant.
“Steward!” he yelled, with all the power of his stentorian17 voice, “haven’t I told you more than once never to leave a lighted lamp about the ship? The first thing you know we’ll be in flames. If you do it again I’ll put you in irons!”
With one vigorous blast from his capacious chest Uncle Dick extinguished the light, and just then a fierce gust18 of wind swept over the house, shaking the windows, and fairly making the solid stone walls tremble. This gave Uncle Dick additional cause for alarm. Here was a gale on; the ship, no doubt, was in great danger, and the officer of the watch[27] had I not been below to awaken19 him. He saw the necessity of prompt action. Jerking open the door, he ran through the cabin and sprang up the companion-ladder. When he had ascended20 about half way to the top he missed his footing in the darkness and fell headlong to the floor. The old sailor had but one explanation for this accident, and that was that the ship had been thrown on her beam-ends. He was on his feet again in a moment, and once more ran up the ladder, shouting lustily for his mates:
“Mr. Jefferson! Mr. Cross!” he yelled. “Where is everybody? We’ll be a wreck21 in five minutes, and the last man on board seems to be asleep!”
Highly indignant at the gross negligence22 of his officers, Uncle Dick groped his way with eager haste to the top of the ladder, threw open the door and sprang out upon the roof; but bear in mind, reader, that he did not know that he was on the top of his brother’s house. He was not fairly awake yet, and he thought he was at sea and on board his vessel.
Having gained the roof, Uncle Dick stood for an instant appalled23 at the scene presented to his gaze. A furious gale was raging, the air was filled with[28] snow and sleet24, and the old sailor felt the full force and severity of the tempest in his exposed position, having been in too great a hurry even to put on his hat before he left his state-room. He looked all around for his crew, who ought to have been on deck attending to things, but could not see a single man. He saw something else, however, and that was a range of high hills about a mile distant from the house—a famous place for squirrels and quails25, and one of the favorite hunting-grounds of his nephews; but the sailor thought they were the headlands of an unfriendly shore upon which his ship was about to be cast away.
“I’ve sailed the blue water for thirty years without losing a single vessel,” said Uncle Dick, with a groan26, “and now I am going to be wrecked27 at last. I can hear the breakers already. Helm hard a-starboard! Mr. Cross, call all hands. Mr. Jefferson, stand by to put the ship about!”
Uncle Dick shouted out these orders with an earnestness which showed that he was fully28 alive to the dangers of the situation; but, to his great amazement29, he did not hear the accustomed responses, and neither did he see the faithful crew tumbling up from below to execute his commands[29] He was fairly awake now, and a vague idea that things did not look natural began to creep into his mind. He glanced at the hills, toward the place where the man at the wheel ought to have been, at the tall elms which lifted their swaying, leafless branches above his head, and then turned and dived down the companion-ladder. He found his way to his state-room, and after brushing off some of the snow which clung to him, he tumbled into his bunk and settled himself snugly30 between the sheets. For five minutes all was still; and then a roar of laughter that was plainly heard above the noise of the storm, rang through the state-room.
“I’ve done some queer things in my life,” said the sailor, as if addressing some one near him, “but that was the first time I ever ordered my mate to stand by to put a stone house about.”
Uncle Dick had a keen sense of the ludicrous, and considering the story as altogether too good to be kept to himself, he told it to the family the next morning; and a merrier breakfast party than that which gathered around Mr. Gaylord’s table was never seen anywhere. The members of the household were kept in a broad grin for several days[30] afterward31, and even now the old sailor would roar out heartily32 whenever he thought of it.
This was but one of the many laughable incidents, of which Uncle Dick was the hero, that happened in the mansion33 during the year; but if we should stop to relate them, we should never begin the story of the Sportsman’s Club’s adventures.
Walker’s room and Eugene’s was in the second story of the house. It was a large, cheerful apartment, nicely furnished, and contained three beds—enough to accommodate all the members of the Club. Any one who had taken a single glance at the room, would have gained a pretty good idea of the tastes and habits of its young masters. The walls were adorned34 with pictures of hunting scenes, regattas and boat-races, and with flags, pennants35 and trophies36 of the chase. In one corner stood a book-case containing a fine library; in another were deposited several pairs of Indian clubs and dumb-bells; and a third seemed to be used as an armory37, for it was filled with rifles and shot-guns of all sizes and lengths, each weapon enclosed in a case of strong cloth, to protect it from the dust. Occupying a prominent place over the mantel was the flag which had been the cause of so much hard feeling on the[31] part of Bayard Bell. It was made of blue silk, and in its centre bore the word “Champion!” in gold letters. It was the handiwork of Emma Bell and some of her friends, and had been made at the suggestion of Bayard, who declared that he and his men could pull much faster if they had something besides the championship to work for. Lucy Conklin, the pretty cousin of one of Bayard’s crew, was selected to present the flag to the winning boat. She expected to have the pleasure of giving it to Bayard, who was her favorite; and when Walter Gaylord, with his cap in his hand, and his handsome face flushed with exercise and triumph, stepped upon the tug38 where she was standing39, and approached to receive the colors, Lucy was so surprised and indignant that she forgot the neat little speech she had prepared for the occasion, and handed the flag to the victor without saying a word. The Club thought a great deal of that little piece of blue silk, and were determined40 to keep it.
It is the night of the first of December, 18—. The boys’ room is brilliantly illuminated41 by four large lamps suspended from the ceiling, and a cheerful wood fire is burning on the hearth42, and around it is gathered a happy party consisting of[32] all the members of the Sportsman’s Club. That broad-shouldered, sturdy-looking fellow who is sitting on one side of the centre-table with a book on his knee, and talking to the old negro who stands with his hand on the door-knob, is Walter Gaylord, the President of the Club. He and his companions have been discussing various plans for their amusement, and having decided43 to pass the next day in hunting coons, Walter is issuing his orders. “You’re sure the weather will be favorable, are you, Sam?” he asks.
“Yes, sar; sartin ob it,” replies the negro. “It’s snowin’ now, fast. It’s boun’ to snow all night, and to-morrow’ll be just de day for tracking de coon.”
“Well, then, we’ll start as soon after daylight as we can get ready. We shall want a warm breakfast before we go.”
“Yes, sar.”
“And, Sam, we shall want something more to eat at noon, and we can’t very well carry it with us. About half past eleven put the pony44 into the cart and bring us out a good dinner. Meet us in the swamp at the old bee-tree. Put in plenty of sandwiches, for we shall be hungry. That’s all, Sam.”
[33]
The negro disappears, and Walter again picks up his book, while the rest of the Club resume the various occupations in which they had been engaged, and which this conversation had interrupted.
That curly-headed, blue-eyed boy standing in front of the fire-place, working upon the lock of his rifle, which is out of order, is Eugene Gaylord, who has probably performed as many exploits, and been the hero of as many school-scrapes, as any fellow of his age in the country. He is a small edition of his Uncle Dick, noisy and good-natured, and seems to be literally45 brimming over with fun.
There are three other members of the Club, whom we have not yet introduced. They are Phil Perkins, Jasper Babcock and Fred Craven. They live in Bellville, and have come up with their horses and hounds to spend the holidays at the Gaylord mansion. The former (who always answers to the name of “Perk46”), although he is quick to learn and has always occupied a respectable position in his class, is not much of a boy for books; but he is quite at home in studying up plans for mischief47, and can carry them out, too, as well as his friend Eugene. He is the best gymnast at the Academy, and can hold out a thirty-five pound dumb-bell in[34] each hand. He is a good oarsman, is fond of sailing, and during the regattas always assists Walter and Eugene in handling the Banner. Jasper Babcock (commonly called “Bab”) has more than once demonstrated his ability to beat any boy at the Academy in pulling a single-scull race, and can boast that he owns the swiftest yacht about Bellville. Another accomplishment48 in which he cannot be beaten is in making a standing high jump. He can place a pole at the height of his chin from the ground, and spring over it with the greatest ease, alighting on the other side like a fallen feather. These two boys are sitting with a board between them, engaged in a game of backgammon. They are both experts and rivals; and although they have been playing for years—almost ever since they first became acquainted—the question of superiority is not yet decided.
Fred Craven, the coxswain of the Spray, and secretary of the Sportsman’s Club, is a year older than Walter and scarcely more than half as large. He is a jolly little fellow, a great favorite with everybody, except Bayard Bell and his crowd, and always answers to the name of “Featherweight.” He is a good bat and short-stop, sails[35] his own yacht, is Vice49 Commodore of the Academy squadron, and his record as a student is excellent. No one ever suspects him of being in a scrape, and his influence goes a long way toward keeping such wild fellows as Perk and Eugene within bounds. He now sits poring over his Virgil, and, like Walter, is so deeply interested in his book that he does not hear the rattle50 of the checkers or the conversation kept up by the other members of the Club.
There is another occupant of the room that we must not forget to speak of, for he bears a somewhat important part in our story. It is Rex, the Irish greyhound which lies stretched out on the rug in front of the fire. The dog always sleeps in the same apartment with Walter, who is the only one he acknowledges as his master, and whom he accompanies wherever he goes. He does other things, too, that we shall tell of by and by.
The hours fly rapidly when one is agreeably employed, and it was ten o’clock before the boys knew it. Long before that time Eugene had finished repairing his rifle and getting all his accoutrements ready for the hunt on the morrow, and after trying different plans for his amusement, such as reading, watching the game of backgammon, and[36] teasing Rex, he picked up his flute51. He was a good performer, and when he confined himself to music, the Club never grew tired of listening to him; but on this occasion, being possessed52 with his usual spirit of mischief, he imitated the squealing53 of pigs, the cackling of hens, the creaking of wagons54, and produced other doleful sounds that were enough to drive one distracted. Walter endured it, and so did Perk and Bab. The former, with his feet stretched out straight before him, his chin resting on his breast, his eyebrows55 elevated, and both hands tightly clasping his book, read on all unmindful of what was going on around him, and the others rattled56 their pieces and talked and played without paying any heed11 to the noise; but the nervous little Featherweight, finding it impossible to construe57 his Latin with such a din9 ringing in his ears, raised a cry of remonstrance58.
“I say! Hold on there!” he exclaimed. “What will you take to leave off torturing that flute and go to bed?”
“Well, Featherweight, seeing it’s you, I won’t charge anything,” replied Eugene. “I have been thinking that we had all better go to bed if we intend to get up at daylight. I’ll stop. I’ll go[37] down and wind up Walter’s alarm-clock, and then I’ll come back and court the embrace of ‘tired Nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep.’”
“H’m! Shakespeare!” exclaimed Perk.
“Young,” corrected Walter, laying down his book.
“Pat him on the back, somebody,” suggested Bab.
“Don’t do it. Put him out of doors,” said Featherweight. “He has violated the rules of the Club by quoting poetry.”
Amid a volley of such exclamations59 as these Eugene left the room and went out to wind up his brother’s alarm-clock. Now, the only alarm-clock that Walter possessed was his white horse (Tom, he called him), and the way to “wind him up” was to turn him loose in the yard. He would stay around the house all night, and at the first peep of day take his stand under his master’s window and arouse him by his neighing. How he got into the habit, or how he found out which was his window, Walter did not know. There were half a dozen windows on that side of the house, but the horse never made a mistake. And there was no use in trying to sleep when Tom wanted him to get up; for he[38] would keep on repeating his calls until some one answered them. In some respects he was better than an alarm-clock.
In half an hour the Club were in bed and fast asleep—all except Perk and Bab, who still played away as desperately60 as ever. Perk came out winner at last, but he was a long time in doing it, and it was twelve o’clock before they were ready to retire. While they were undressing Tom began galloping61 frantically62 about the yard (he was as watchful63 as any dog the boys had ever seen), and a moment afterward one of the hounds set up a dismal64 howl. This was answered by every dog on the plantation65; and then arose a chorus of whines66 and bays and growls67 that would have done credit to a small menagerie. While Perk and Bab stood looking at each other, a door opened and closed below, a heavy step sounded in the hall, and Mr. Gaylord’s voice rang out above the tumult68.
“Hi! hi!” he shouted. “Hunt him up, fellows! Take hold of him!”
Rex jumped to his feet and barked furiously, and this aroused the slumbering69 members of the Club, who were out on the door in an instant. They did[39] not ask what the matter was, for they had no difficulty in guessing at the cause of the disturbance70.
“Bear!” shouted Featherweight.
“Deer!” exclaimed Eugene.
“Who knows but it’s a panther?” said Perk.
“We’ll find out what it is before we go to bed again,” said Walter. “The dogs are close at his heels, are they not?” he added, as the slow, measured baying of the hounds changed to a sharp impatient yelp71. “Hurry up, fellows, or we shall miss all the fun.”
These midnight alarms were not new chapters in the experience of the Club. Wild animals were abundant, and it was by no means an uncommon72 occurrence for the dogs to discover a bear or wildcat prowling about the plantation during the night. Indeed, the boys had seen bears pass through the cornfield in the day-time; and a few weeks previous to the commencement of our story, Walter and Eugene stood on the back porch of the house, and fired their guns at a deer that was feeding at one of the fodder73 stacks.
The boys hurried on their clothes without loss of time, and catching74 up their guns and throwing their powder-flasks and shot-pouches over their[40] shoulders, ran down the stairs and out of the house. On the porch they met Mr. Gaylord, who turned and gave them an approving nod.
“What is it?” asked all the boys in a breath.
“O, a bear, I suppose,” replied the gentleman. “The dogs have treed him, and if you want a little sport, we’ll go down and take a look at him.”
There are not many boys in the world who would be willing to go to bed when they knew that a bear had been treed within a quarter of a mile of them. Our heroes were not, by any means. If they could remain up all night for the purpose of capturing a coon, as they had done many a time, they could certainly afford to lose an hour’s sleep when they had a prospect75 of trying their skill on larger and more valuable game. Mr. Gaylord went into the house after his rifle; Eugene ran to the kitchen to bring a fire-brand; Walter hurried off in search of a couple of axes; and the rest of the club busied themselves in gathering76 a supply of dry chips with which to kindle77 a fire. In a few minutes Mr. Gaylord came out again, but he moved much too slowly and deliberately78 to suit the impatient boys, who set out for the woods at a rapid run, leaving him to follow at his leisure. They[41] found the dogs—probably a score of them in all—gathered about a tall oak that grew just outside the cotton-field. Some of the experienced ones, like Rex, sat at a little distance and looked steadily79 up into the branches; while the younger ones made desperate attempts to run up the tree, and failing in that, fell to fighting among themselves. A few harshly spoken words, and a flourish or two with the switch Eugene carried in his hand, brought order out of the confusion, and put a stop to the barking and quarrelling.
The first business was to kindle a fire: and by the time this had been done Mr. Gaylord came up. The fire cracked away merrily, the flames arose higher and higher, and presently threw out so bright a light that the hunters could discern the outlines of some dark object crouching80 in the top of the tree. The boys yelled like young savages81 at the discovery, and Perk, who carried a long, heavy deer-gun of wonderful range and accuracy, requested his companions to stand back and see how nicely he could lift him out of the tree at the first shot.
“Don’t be in a hurry, boys!” said Mr. Gaylord. “Let me have a good view of him before you shoot.[42] There’s something about him that looks suspicious.”
“I was just thinking so myself,” exclaimed Featherweight, and his voice trembled a little with excitement. “He keeps too still for a bear, and when the fire blazes up so that I can see him quite plainly, I can make out a long, slim body. If I know anything, it is a panther.”
A panther! The boys repeated the word in tones of excitement, cocked their guns rather hurriedly, and their fingers trembled as they rested on the triggers. Mr. Gaylord walked around the tree, looking at the animal from different positions, and several times raised his rifle as if he were about to shoot. Finally he announced that they had certainly treed a panther, adding that he was so effectually protected by the branches that it would be a waste of ammunition82 to fire at him. They must cut the tree down.
This decision had no sooner been rendered, than the hunters proceeded to act upon it. Walter and Bab pulled off their coats, and stationing themselves on opposite sides of the tree went manfully to work, while the others stood around with their guns in their hands, keeping their eyes fastened on[43] the game, and ready to take the place of the choppers as soon as the latter grew tired. They were all intensely excited—they could not be otherwise, standing as they were under a tree containing a panther, and knowing that he could come down from his perch83 and make short work with them at any moment. They all thought of the danger, but there was not one among them who had any idea of standing back and allowing the others to do all the work and gain all the applause. A panther was something worth killing84 in those days. Aside from the honor, there was money to be made by it, for the authorities of the parish paid twenty-five dollars for the scalp of every one of these animals that was killed within its limits.
The choppers were at work upon the tree fully twenty minutes, and during all this time the panther sat upon his perch glaring down at his foes85, and never once changing his position. But as the top of the oak began to waver he looked about him uneasily, and when a loud crack announced that it was about to fall, he started up and gathered himself for a spring.
“Shoot away, boys!” cried Mr. Gaylord; “he’s[44] going to run. If we allow him to reach the woods we shall lose him.”
Six guns cracked in quick succession, and bullets and buckshot rattled through the top of the oak, bringing twigs86 and dead leaves down in a perfect shower. But if any of the missiles struck the panther they failed to reach a vital part, for the animal sprang into the air with all the ease and agility87 of a squirrel, and alighting among the branches of a tall hickory fully twenty feet distant, quickly disappeared from sight. While the hunters stood looking at him the oak came down with a crash, and in an instant the dogs were tumbling about among the branches, searching everywhere for the game, and seemingly very much astonished at not finding him.
“The fun is over for to-night, boys,” said Mr. Gaylord, who being an old sportsman took matters very coolly. “We’ll go to bed now, and in the morning we’ll put the dogs on his trail and follow him up and finish him.”
The Club exchanged significant glances when they heard this; but said nothing until they reached the house, and then they stopped to hold a consultation88.
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收听单词发音
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1
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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3
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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6
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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7
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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8
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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9
din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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12
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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mariner
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| n.水手号不载人航天探测器，海员，航海者 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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Undid
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| v. 解开, 复原 | |
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16
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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stentorian
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| adj.大声的，响亮的 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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20
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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negligence
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| n.疏忽，玩忽，粗心大意 | |
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23
appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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sleet
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| n.雨雪；v.下雨雪，下冰雹 | |
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quails
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| 鹌鹑( quail的名词复数 )； 鹌鹑肉 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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snugly
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| adv.紧贴地；贴身地；暖和舒适地；安适地 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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32
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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34
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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pennants
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| n.校旗( pennant的名词复数 )；锦标旗；长三角旗；信号旗 | |
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36
trophies
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| n.（为竞赛获胜者颁发的）奖品( trophy的名词复数 )；奖杯；（尤指狩猎或战争中获得的）纪念品；（用于比赛或赛跑名称）奖 | |
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37
armory
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| n.纹章，兵工厂，军械库 | |
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38
tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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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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40
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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41
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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perk
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| n.额外津贴；赏钱；小费； | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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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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wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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construe
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| v.翻译，解释 | |
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remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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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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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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whines
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| n.悲嗥声( whine的名词复数 )；哀鸣者v.哀号( whine的第三人称单数 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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yelp
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| vi.狗吠 | |
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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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fodder
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| n.草料；炮灰 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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kindle
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| v.点燃，着火 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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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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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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