A man in the Valley of the Isar had told me that dogs of this species might become obnoxious1, for they were always anxious to be with the master. I was therefore warned against accepting the tenacious2 faithfulness which Bashan soon began to display towards me as all too personal in its origin. On the other hand, this made it easier for me to discourage it a little—in so far as this may, in self-defence, have been necessary. We have to deal here with a remote and long-derived patriarchal instinct of the dog which determines him—at least so far as the more manly4, open-air loving breeds are concerned—to regard and honour the man, the head of the house and the family, as the master, the protector of the home, the lord, and to find the goal and meaning of his existence in a peculiar5 relationship of loyal vassal-friendship, and in the maintenance of a far greater spirit of independence towards the other members of the family. It was this spirit that Bashan manifested towards me from the very beginning. His eyes followed me about with a manly trustfulness shining in them. He seemed to be asking for commands which he might fulfil but which I chose not to give, since obedience6 was not one of his strong points. He clung to my heels with the visible conviction that his inseparability from me was something firmly rooted in the sacred nature of things.
It went without saying that in the family circle he would lie down only at my feet and never at any one else’s. It went equally without saying that in case I should separate from the others when out walking and pursue my own ways, he should join me and follow my footsteps. He also insisted upon my company when I was working, and when he chanced to find the door that gave upon the garden closed, he would come vaulting8 in through the window with startling suddenness, whereby a good deal of gravel9 would come rattling10 in upon the floor, and then with a sob11 and a sigh he would throw himself under my desk.
But there is a reverence12 which we pay to life and to living things which is too vigilant13 and keen not to be violated even by a dog’s presence when we feel the need of being alone, and it was then that Bashan always disturbed me in the most tangible14 fashion. He would step up to my chair, wag his tail, look at me with devouring15 glances, and keep up an incessant16 trampling17. The slightest receptive or approving movement on my part would result in his climbing up on the arm-rests of the chair, and glueing himself against my chest, in order to force me to laugh by the air-kisses which he kept lunging in my direction. And then he would proceed to an investigation18 of the top of my desk, assuming, no doubt, that something edible19 was to be found there, since I was so often caught bending over it. And then his broad and hairy paws would smear20 or blur21 the wet ink of my manuscript.
Called sharply to account, he would lie down once more and fall asleep. But no sooner was he asleep than he would begin to dream, during which he would execute the movements of running with all his four feet stretched out, at the same time giving vent22 to a clear yet subdued23 ventriloquistic barking which sounded as if it came from another world. That this had a disturbing and distracting effect upon me need surprise no one, for, first of all, it was eerie24, and then it stirred and burdened my conscience. This dream-life was all too clearly an artificial substitute for the real chase, the real hunt, and was prepared for him by his nature, because in his common life with me, the happiness of unrestrained movement in the open did not devolve upon him in that measure which his blood and his instincts demanded. This came home to me very strongly, but as it was not to be altered, it was necessary that my moral disquietude should be dispelled25 by an appeal to other and higher interests. This led me to affirm that he brought a great deal of mud into the room during bad weather, and moreover, that he tore the carpets with his claws. Hence, as a matter of principle, he was forbidden to remain in the house or to bear me company as long as I chanced to be in the house—even though occasional exceptions were made. He understood this law at once and submitted to the unnatural26 prohibition27, since it was precisely28 this which expressed in itself the inscrutable will of the master and lord of the house.
For this remoteness from me, which often continues, especially in the winter, for the greater part of the day, is merely a matter of being away—no actual separation or lack of connection. He is no longer with me—by my orders—but then that is merely the carrying-out of an order, after all a kind of negative being-with-me, as he would say. As for any independent life which Bashan might lead without me during these hours—that is not to be thought of. Through the glass door of my study I see him disporting30 in a clumsy, uncle-like manner with the children on the small patch of grass in front of the house. But constantly he comes running up to the door, and as he cannot see me through the muslin curtain which stretches across the pane31, he sniffs33 at the crack between door and jamb so as to assure himself of my presence, and then sits down on the steps with his back turned towards the room, mounting guard. From my writing-table I can also see him moving at a thoughtful trot34 between the old aspens on the elevated highway yonder. But such promenades35 are merely a tepid37 pastime devoid38 of pride, joy, and life. And it would be unutterably unthinkable that Bashan should take to devoting himself to the glorious pleasures of the chase upon his own account, even though no one would hinder him from doing this, and my presence, as will be shown later, would not be particularly favourable40 towards such an objective.
He begins to live only when I go forth41—though, alas42, he cannot always be said to begin life even then! For after I leave the house the question is whether I am going to turn towards the right, that is, down the avenue that leads into the open and to the solitude43 of our hunting-grounds, or towards the left in the direction of the tram station in order to ride to the city and into the great and spacious44 world. It is only in the first instance that Bashan finds that there is any sense in accompanying me. At first he joined me after I had chosen the great and spacious world, regarded with vast astonishment45 the car as it came thundering on, and, forcibly suppressing his shyness, made a blind and loyal jump upon the platform, directly amongst the passengers. But the storm of public indignation swept him off again, and so he resolved to go galloping47 alongside the roaring vehicle—which bore so little resemblance to the farm wagon48 between the wheels of which he had once trotted49. Faithfully he kept step as long as this was possible, and his wind would no doubt have held out too. But being a son of the upland farm, he was lost in the traffic of the metropolis50; he got between people’s legs, strange dogs made flank attacks upon him; a tumult51 of wild odours such as he had never before experienced, vexed52 and confused his senses; house-corners, impregnated with the essences of old adventures, lured53 him irresistibly54. He remained behind, and though he once more overtook the wagon on rails, this proved to be a wrong one, even though it exactly resembled the right one. Bashan ran blindly in the wrong direction, lost himself more and more in the disconcerting strangeness of the world. And it was more than two days before he came home, starved and limping—to that last house along the river to which his master had also been sensible enough to return in the meantime.
This happened two or three times, then Bashan finally gave up accompanying me when I turned towards the left. He knows instantly what I intend to do as soon as I emerge from the doorway55 of the house—make a trip to the hunting-grounds or a trip to the great world. He jumps up from the door-mat upon which he has been awaiting my coming forth under the protecting arch of the entrance. He jumps up and at the same moment he sees what my intentions are. My clothing betrays these to him, the cane56 that I carry, also my attitude and expression, the cool and preoccupied57 look I give him, or the irritation58 and challenge in my eyes. He understands. Headlong he plunges59 down the steps and goes dancing before me in swift and sudden bounds and full of excitement towards the gate when my going forth seems to be certain. But when he beholds60 hope vanish, he subsides61 within himself, lays his ears close to his head and his eyes take on that expression of shy misery62 which is found in contrite63 sinners—that look which misfortune begets64 in the eyes of men and also of animals.
At times he is really unable to believe what he sees and knows, that it is all up and that there is no use hoping for a hunt. His desires have been too intense. He repudiates66 the signs and symbols—chooses not to see the city walking-stick, the careful citified clothes I am wearing. He pushes through the gate with me, switches around outside in a half turn, and seeks to draw me towards the right by starting to gallop46 in this direction and by turning his head towards me, forces himself to overlook the fateful No which I oppose to his efforts. He comes back when I actually do turn towards the left, accompanies me, snorting deeply, and ejaculating short, confused high notes which seem to arise from the tremendous tension in his interior, as I walk along the fence of the garden, and then he begins to jump back and forth over the pickets67 of the adjacent public park. These pickets are rather high, and he groans68 a little in his flight through the air out of fear lest he hurt himself. He makes these leaps impelled69 by a kind of desperate gaiety, scornful of all hard facts, and also to bribe70 me, to work upon my sympathies by his cleverness. For it is not yet quite impossible—however improbable it may seem—that I may nevertheless leave the city path at the end of the park, once more turn towards the left and lead him on to liberty—even if only by way of the slightly roundabout way to the post-box. This happens, it is true, but it happens only rarely. Once this hope has dissolved into empty air, Bashan settles down upon his haunches and lets me go my way.
There he sits now, in yokel71-like, ungraceful attitude, in the very middle of the road, and stares after my retreating form, down the whole long vista72. If I turn my head, he pricks74 up his ears, but does not follow me. Nor would he follow me if I should call or whistle—he knows this would all be to no purpose. Even from the very end of the avenue I can see him still sitting there, a small, dark, awkward shape in the middle of the highroad. A pang75 goes through my heart—I mount the tram with an uneasy conscience. He has waited so long and so patiently—and who does not know what torture waiting can be! His whole life is nothing but waiting—for the next walk in the open—and this waiting begins as soon as he has rested after his last run. During the night, too, he waits, for his slumbers76 are distributed throughout the entire twenty-four hours of the sun’s revolution, and many a siesta77 upon the smooth lawn, whilst the sun beats upon his coat, or behind the curtains of his hut, must help to shorten the bare and empty spaces of the day. His nocturnal rest is therefore dismembered and without unity78. He is driven by blind impulses hither and thither79 in the darkness, through the yard and the garden—he runs from place to place—and waits. He waits for the recurrent visit of the local watchman with the lantern, the heavy thud of whose footfall he accompanies against his own better knowledge with a terrible burst of heralding80 barks. He waits for the paling of the heavens, the crowing of the cock in the near-by nursery-garden, the stir of the morning wind in the trees, and for the unlocking of the kitchen entrance, so that he may slip in and warm himself at the white-tiled range.
But I believe that the torture of this nightly vigil is mild, compared to that which Bashan must endure in the broad of day, particularly when the weather is fair, be it winter or summer, when the sun lures81 into the open, and the desire for violent motion tugs82 in every muscle, and his master, without whom, of course, there can be no real enjoyment83, persistently84 refuses to leave his seat behind the glass door.
Bashan’s mobile little body, through which life pulsates85 so swiftly and feverishly86, has been, so to speak, exhausted87 with rest—and there can be no thought of sleep. Up he comes to the terrace in front of my door, drops himself in the gravel with a sob which comes from the very depths of his being, and lays his head upon his paws, turning up his eyes with a martyr’s expression towards heaven. This, however, lasts only a few seconds, the new position irks him at once, he feels it to be untenable. There is still one thing he can do. He may descend88 the steps and pay attention to a small tree trimmed in the shape of a rose-tree and flanking the beds of roses, an unfortunate tree which, owing to these visits of Bashan, dwindles89 away every year and must be replanted. There he stands on three legs, melancholy90 and contemplative—the slave of a habit, whether urged by Nature or not. Then he reverts91 to his four legs, and is no better off than before. Dumbly he gazes aloft into the branches of a group of ash-trees. Two birds are flitting from bough92 to bough with lively twitterings—he watches feathered ones dashing away swift as arrows, and turns aside, seeming to shrug94 his shoulders at so much childish élan of life.
He stretches and strains as though he intended to tear himself asunder95. This undertaking96, for the sake of thoroughness, he divides into two parts: first of all, he stretches his front legs, lifting his hindquarters into the air, and then exercises these by stretching his hind39 legs far behind him. He yawns tremendously both times, with wide, red-gaping jaws97 and upcurled tongue. Well, now he has also achieved this—the performance cannot be carried on any further, and having once stretched yourself according to all the rules of the game, it is inconceivable that you should immediately repeat the manœuvre. So Bashan stands and gazes at the ground. Then he begins to turn himself slowly and searchingly about his own axis99 as though he wished to lie down and were not as yet certain as to the way in which this should be done. He changes his mind, however, and goes with lazy step to the middle of the lawn, where with a sudden, almost convulsive movement, he hurls101 himself upon his back in order to cool and scour3 this by a lively rolling hither and thither upon the mown surface of grass.
This must induce a mighty102 feeling of bliss103, for stiffly he draws up his paws as he rolls and snaps into the air in all directions in a tumult of joy and satisfaction. All the more passionately104 he drains this rapture105 to the very dregs in that he knows that it is purely106 a fleeting107 rapture, and that one cannot very well wallow in this fashion more than ten seconds, and that that beneficent weariness which comes to one after such honest and happy efforts will not follow—but merely disillusion108 and two-fold disquietude—the price paid for this delirium109, this drug-like dissipation. For a moment he lies with twisted eyeballs upon his side as though he were dead. Then he rises and shakes himself. He shakes himself as only his kind is able to shake itself—without having to fear a concussion110 of the brain. He shakes himself to a crescendo111 of flappings and rattlings, and his ears go slapping under his jawbone and his loose lips part from his white, bare triangular112 teeth.
And then? Then he stands motionless, in stark113 abstraction. He has reached the ultimate limit and no longer has a single idea as to what he shall do with himself. Under such circumstances as these, he has recourse to something extreme. He climbs up to the terrace, approaches the glass door—scratches only once and very feebly. But this soft and timidly lifted paw, this soft, solitary114 scratching, upon which he had resolved, after all other counsel had failed, work mightily115 upon me, and I arise to open the door for him in order to let him in, although I know that this can lead to no good. For he immediately begins to leap and cavort116, as a call to engage in manly enterprises. He pushes the carpet into a hundred folds, spreads confusion through the room, and my peace and quiet are at an end.
But now judge whether it is easy for me to sail off in the tram, after seeing Bashan wait thus, and leave him sitting as a melancholy little heap of misery deep within the converging117 lines of the avenue of poplars!
When the summer is on and the daylight is long and lingering, this misfortune may not be so overwhelming, for then there is always a good chance that at least my evening promenade36 will take me out into the open, so that Bashan, even though the period of waiting be arduous118, may nevertheless still meet with his reward and, provided one has a certain amount of luck, be able to chase a rabbit. But in winter, it is all up for this day and Bashan must bury all hope for a full twenty-four hours. For then the night will have already fallen upon the hour of my second going-forth; the hunting grounds are buried in impenetrable darkness, and I must direct my steps towards regions artificially lighted, upstream, through streets and public parks, and this does not suit Bashan’s nature and simplicity119 of soul. It is true that at first he followed me even here, but soon gave this up and remained at home. It was not only that visible chances for gadding120 about were lacking—the half-dark made him hesitant, he shied in confused alarm at man and bush. The sudden flapping of a policeman’s cape121 caused him to jump aside with a howl, and with the courage of horror to make a sudden dash at the policeman, who was also scared half to death and strove to even up the fright he had received by a torrent122 of harsh and threatening words directed at me and Bashan. And there were many other uncomfortable encounters whenever he went forth with me through the night and the mist. Apropos123 of this policeman, I will remark that there are three kinds of human beings to whom Bashan has a whole-hearted aversion—namely policemen, monks124, and chimney-sweeps. He cannot tolerate them, and will sally forth against them with furious barks whenever they go past the house, or wherever they may chance to cross his path.
Moreover, winter is that season in which the world lies most vigilantly125 and insolently126 in ambush127 against our liberties and our virtues128, and least willingly grants us a uniform and serene129 existence, an existence of seclusion130 and of quiet preoccupation, and so it happens that often the city draws me to itself a second time in one day—in the evening—when Society demands its rights. Then, late, at midnight, the last tram deposits me far out at its penultimate stop. Or I come jogging along on foot, long after the last tram has returned to town—I come wandering distrait131, tempered with wine, smoking, having passed the bourne of natural fatigue132 and wrapped in a sense of false security in relation to all things mundane133. And then it happens that the embodiment of my own domesticity, as it were, my very retirement134, comes to meet me and salutes135 and welcomes me not only without reproach or touchiness136, but with extreme joy, and re-introduces me to my own fireside—all in the shape of Bashan himself. It is pitch dark, and the river goes by with a rushing sound as I turn into the poplar avenue. A few steps more and I feel that I am be-capered and be-switched by paws and tail—and have no clear idea of what is happening to me.
“Bashan?” I ask of the darkness.
And then the capering137 and the switching are intensified138 to the utmost. They pass into something dervish- and Berserker-like, though the silence continues. The very moment I stand still I feel two homely139 and wet and muddy paws upon the lapels of my overcoat, and there are such violent snappings and lappings close to my face, that I bend backward, whilst I pat those lean shoulders, wet with rain or snow.
Yes, the dear fellow has waited for me at the tram-stop, well aware of my comings and goings and doings; he had gone forth when the hour seemed to have arrived, and waited for me at the station—waited, perhaps, a long and weary while in the snow or rain. And his joy at my arrival is devoid of all resentment140 at my cruel faithlessness, even though I had utterly141 neglected him to-day and reduced all his hopes and expectances to naught142. So I am loud in my praise of him as I pat his shoulders and we turn towards home. I tell him that he has acted nobly, and deliver myself of momentous143 promises with regard to the day which is already under way. I assure him (that is to say not so much him as myself) that we shall go hunting together to-morrow without fail, no matter what the weather. Amidst resolutions such as these, my mood of universality evaporates, seriousness and sobriety slink back into my soul, and my fancy, now full of the hunting-grounds and their loneliness, is seized by apperceptions of higher, secret and wondrous144 obligations.
But I am moved to add further details to this transcript145 of Bashan’s character, so that the willing reader may see it in the nth degree of vivid verisimilitude. I might perhaps proceed with more or less skill by drawing a comparison between Bashan and the lamented146 Percy, for a contrariety more sharply defined than that which distinguished147 their respective natures is scarcely conceivable within one and the same species. As a basic consideration one must remember that Bashan enjoys perfect mental health, whilst Percy, as I have already intimated, was—as is not uncommon148 with dogs of blue-blooded pedigrees—a perfect fool his whole life long, crazy, a very model of overbred impossibility. Mention of this has been made in a more momentous connection, in a previous chapter.
I would merely mention here as a contrast Bashan’s simple and popular ways as these manifest themselves when going for walks or when making salutations—occasions upon which the enunciation149 of his emotions remains150 within the bounds of common sense and a sound heartiness151 without ever touching152 the limits of hysteria—limits which Percy often transgressed153 on these occasions and that in the most disconcerting fashion.
But the whole antithesis154 between the two creatures is by no means exhausted in this—for this antithesis is in truth a mixed and complicated one. Bashan, you must know, is somewhat crude, like the common people themselves, but, like them, also soft and sentimental155, whilst his noble predecessor156 combined more delicacy157 and possibilities of pain with an incomparably prouder and firmer spirit, and despite his silliness, far excelled that old yokel Bashan in the matter of self-discipline. It is not in defence of an aristocratic cult158 of values that I call attention to this mixture of opposite qualities, of coarseness and tenderness, of delicacy and resolution, but purely in the interests of life and actuality. Bashan, for example, is just the man for spending even the coldest winter nights in the open, that is on the straw behind the coarse burlap curtains of his kennel159. A slight affection of the bladder prevents him from spending seven hours uninterruptedly in a locked room without committing a nuisance—a weakness of his which caused us to lock him out during the inhospitable time of the year, setting a justifiable160 faith in his robust161 health. Only once, after a particularly icy and foggy night, did he make his appearance with moustaches and goatee miraculously162 frosted and iced and with that jerky, one-syllabic cough peculiar to dogs—but a few hours, and lo, he had conquered the cold and was none the worse for it.
But never would we have dared to expose the silken-haired Percy to the inclemency163 of such a night. On the other hand, Bashan stands in great fear of even the slightest pain, and every twinge wrings164 from him a response, the whining165 complaint of which would arouse aversion, if its naive166, folkish quality did not disarm167 one and set the springs of gaiety aflow. Again and again, during his prowlings in the underwood, I have heard him squeal168 aloud—a thorn had chanced to prick73 him, or a resilient branch had switched him across the face, and if he happened to have scratched his belly169 a little in vaulting over the fence, or sprained170 his foot, I have been treated to an antique hero’s chorus, a three-legged limping approach, an uncontrollable wailing171 and self-lamentation. And the more sympathetically I talked to him, the more insistent172 his clamour became—though in a quarter of an hour he would be swooping173 and running about as madly as before.
Percy was of a different metal. Percy would grit174 his teeth and keep mum. He feared the rawhide175 whip just as Bashan fears it, and unfortunately he got a taste of it oftener than Bashan; for, first of all, I was younger and more hot-tempered during his epoch176 than I am at present, and secondly177, his heedlessness often assumed a wanton and sinister178 aspect which simply clamoured for chastisement179 and urged me to it. When, driven to extremities180, I would take down the whip from the nail, then, it is true, he would crawl under the table or bench and make himself small, but never a howl passed his lips when the blow, and perhaps yet another, came humming down upon his back; at most he gave a low moan, in case the whip bit too hard. But Bully181 Bashan begins to shriek182 and whimper when I merely raise my arm. In short, he is without pride or dignity, without self-restraint or self-discipline. But his activities seldom call for armed punitive183 intervention—the less so since I have long ago ceased to demand achievements from him which are contrary to his nature and insistence184 upon which might lead to a collision.
Tricks, for instance, I never expect from him—it would be futile185. He is no savant, no market-place miracle-monger, no poodle-like valet—no professor—but a hunter-lad, full of go and vitality186. I have already emphasised the fact that he is a splendid vaulter187. If it be necessary, he will balk188 at no obstacle—if it be too high, he will simply take a running jump and climb over it, letting himself drop down on the other side—but take it he will. But the obstacle must be a real obstacle, that is, not one under which one may run or crawl; for then Bashan would consider it sheer insanity189 to jump over it. Such obstacles present themselves in the shape of a wall, a ditch, a barred gate, a fence without a hole. A horizontal bar, a stick held out, is no obstacle, and so, of course, one cannot well jump over it without bringing oneself into a silly contrariness to things as well as to one’s reason. Bashan refuses to do this. He refuses. Should you attempt to persuade him to jump over some sham190 obstacle, you would finally in your wrath191 be forced to take him by the scruff of the neck and to hurl100 him over it, barking and yapping. He will hereupon assume a mien192 as though he had magnanimously permitted you to attain193 your wishes and will celebrate the result by caperings and rapturous barks. You may flatter him, beat him, but here you will encounter a resistance of sheer reason against the trick pure and simple which you will never be able to overcome.
He is not unobliging, gratifying his master means a great deal to him—he will vault7 over a hedge at my wish or command, and not only from his own impulses, and gladly will he reap his meed of praise and thanks for this. But even though you should beat him half to death, he will not jump over a pole or a stick, but run under it. He will beg a hundred times for forgiveness, for consideration, for mercy, for he fears pain, fears it, to the point of utter pusillanimity194. But no fear and no pain can force him to do something which from a physical point of view would be mere29 child’s play for him, but for which all mental capacities are obviously lacking in him. To demand this act of him is not to confront him with the question as to whether he should or should not jump—this question is already settled for him in advance, and the command simply means a clubbing. To demand the incomprehensible and therefore the impossible from him is, in his eyes, merely a pretext195 for a quarrel, for a disturbance196 of friendship and a chance to inflict197 a whipping, and is in itself the very inauguration198 of these things. This is Bashan’s conception of things, as far as I can see, and I doubt whether one can speak of mere ordinary stubbornness in this connection. Obduracy199 may finally be broken, yes, it even demands to be broken, but Bashan would seal his refusal to perform a trick or feat93 with his very life.
A wondrous soul! So friendly and intimate and yet so alien in certain traits, so alien that our language is incapable200 of doing justice to this canine201 logic202. What relation has this, for instance, with that terrible circumstantiality, always so unnerving for the spectator, with which the meeting, the acquaintance or the mere recognition of dog and dog fulfil themselves? My picaroon forays with Bashan have made me the witness of hundreds of such meetings, or rather I should say forced me to be an unwilling203, embarrassed witness. And every time, as long as the scene lasted, his usually transparent204 behaviour became inscrutable to me—I found it impossible to effect a sympathetic penetration205 into the feelings, laws, and tribal206 customs which form the basis of his behaviour. In reality the meeting in the open of two dogs strange to each other, belongs to the most poignant207, arresting, and pathetic of conceivable happenings. It takes place in an atmosphere of daemonry and strangeness. An inhibition operates here for which there is no exacter term—the two cannot pass each other—a terrible embarrassment208 prevails.
I need scarcely speak of cases in which the one party is locked inside some allotment, behind a fence or a hedge—even then it is not easy to see what humour the two may be in, but the affair is comparatively less ticklish209. They scent210 each other from vast distances. Bashan suddenly appears at my side, as though seeking protection, and gives way to whimperings which proclaim an indefinite grief and perturbation of soul, whilst at the same time the stranger, the prisoner, starts up a furious barking, to which he seems anxious to give the character of vigilance energetically announcing itself, but which now and again impulsively211 reverts to tones which resemble those of Bashan’s yearning212, a tearfully jealous, a distressful213 whining. We approach the spot, drawing nearer and nearer. The strange dog has been awaiting us behind the fence—there he stands—scolding and lamenting214 his impotence, and makes wild leaps against the fence and pretends—no one can tell just how much he pretends—that he would infallibly tear Bashan to pieces, if he could but reach him. In spite of this, Bashan, who might easily remain at my side and walk past, goes towards the fence—he must go—he would go even contrary to my orders. Not to go would violate some immanent law—far more deeply-rooted, more inviolable than my own prohibition. So he walks up to the spot and, with a humble215 and inscrutable mien, fulfils that act of sacrifice which, as he well knows, always brings about a certain pacification216 and temporary reconciliation217 with the other dog—so long as he too performs the same act, even though it be in another spot and accompanied by low growlings and whines218. Then both begin to chase wildly alongside the fence, the one on this, the other on the opposite side—dumb and always keeping parallel to each other. Both simultaneously219 face about at the end of the fence and race back towards the other end, turn about and race back once more. Suddenly, however, in the very middle, they remain as if rooted to the ground, no longer longitudinal to the fence—but at right angles with it, and touch noses through the rails. They stand thus for a considerable time, and then once more resume their strange and ineffectual race, shoulder to shoulder on either side of the fence. Finally, however, my dog makes use of his liberty and races off. This is always a terrible moment for the imprisoned220 one. This sudden lighting221 out is to him something unendurable; it is villainy unutterable and unparalleled—to think that the other dog, his racial colleague, should really think of abandoning him!
So he raves222, howls, acts like one possessed223, races up and down his territory, all by himself, threatens to jump over the fence and strangle the traitor224, and keeps on hurling225 the vilest226 curses after him. Bashan cannot help hearing all this pother, and he is most disagreeably affected227 by it, as his guilty and diffident air proclaims. Still he refuses to look back, and jogs easily along. During this the terrible maledictions to our rear gradually decline in intensity228 and slowly die away into low whinings and thin yowls.
Such is the customary course of events when one of the parties concerned happens to be under duress229. But the strange contrariety of things reaches its apex230 when the rencontre takes place under equal conditions and both happen to be free of foot. It is extremely unpleasant to be obliged to describe this—really, it is the most oppressive, embarrassing and ticklish situation conceivable. However——
Bashan, who has just been blithely231 gambolling232 about, comes to me, simply forcing himself upon my attention with that peculiar sniffling and whining which arise from the very profounds of his nature. These sounds cannot be interpreted as the expression of any particular emotion, though I at once recognise them as an attempt to tell me of the approach of a strange dog. I peer sharply about me. No mistake—there he comes—and it is clear even from afar, as proclaimed by his cautious and hesitant advance, that he has become conscious of the other. My own anxiety is scarcely less than that of the other two—I have premonitions that this meeting is going to be precarious233 and highly undesirable234.
“Go ’way!” I say to Bashan. “What d’ye mean by clinging to my leg! Can’t you two carry on negotiations235 amongst yourselves—and at a distance?”
I try to push him away with my stick, for if it should come to a battle of bites, which—whether there be a reason for it or not—is extremely probable, it is sure to take place around my feet and I shall become the centre of a most unedifying tussle237.
“Go ’way!” I repeat hoarsely238.
But Bashan does not go ’way. He continues to cling to me, tightly and helplessly. Only for a moment does he deign239 to move aside to sniff32 at a tree—an operation which the stranger, as I observe out of the corner of my eye, is also performing yonder. The distance between the two is now only twenty paces—the tension is fearful. The stranger has now assumed a crouching240 position like a tiger-cat, with head thrust forward, and in this highwaymanlike pose he awaits Bashan’s approach, apparently241 in order to seize him by the throat at the proper moment. This, however, does not take place, nor does Bashan appear to expect it. At all events he continues to advance straight towards the lowering one, though with palpitant hesitancy and an alert though tragic242 mien. He would do so—would, in fact, be forced to do so, even though I were to leave him and pursue my path, abandoning him to all the perils243 of the situation. No matter how upsetting the rencontre may be, no thought can be given to evasion244 or escape. He goes as one that is under a spell—a ban. Both are bound to each other by some secret and tenebrous tie, and neither dares belie65 this. We have now approached within two paces.
And then the other dog gets up quietly, just as though he had never assumed the looks or attitude of a lion couchant and stands there precisely as Bashan stands—both with hangdog look, miserable245 and deeply embarrassed and both incapable of yielding an inch or of passing each other. They would like to be free of all this; they turn away their heads, squint246 sadly aside. Thus they shove and slink towards each other, side by side, tense and full of a troubled watchfulness247, flank to flank, and begin to snuffle at each other’s hides.
It is during this procedure that the growlings begin. Sotto voce, I call Bashan by name and warn him, for this is the fateful moment which is to decide whether a tussle and biting-match is to take place, or whether I am to be spared this calamity248. But the battle of bites, of tooth and claw, is upon us—in a flash—no one could say how or why. In a moment both of them are merely a tangle249, a raving250, chaotic251 tumult out of which arise horrible gutteral cries, as of dragons of the prime tearing each other. In order to avert252 a tragedy I am forced to interpose my stick, to seize Bashan by his collar or by the scruff of his neck, and to hoist253 him into the air with one arm with his antagonist254 hanging to him with locked jaws—or face whatever other terrors may be awaiting me—terrors which I am then fated to feel in every nerve during the greater part of the walk. But it also happens that the entire affair may pass off quite uneventfully, and, as it were, ebb255 away. Nevertheless, in both contingencies256 it is difficult to get away from the spot. For even if these twain do not happen to clamp themselves together by the teeth, they remain fettered257 by a tenacious inner bond. In this case things proceed as follows:—
You imagine that the two dogs have already passed each other, for they are no longer hesitating flank to flank, but are aligned258 almost in keel formation, the one with his head turned in one direction, the other with his in the opposite direction. They do not see each other; they scarcely turn their heads, merely squinting259 towards the rear, straining the eyeball back as far as possible. Even though they are already separated by some short distance, the tenacious, sinister tie still holds and neither of them is sure whether the moment of liberation has arrived. Both would like to move off, but some inscrutable, conscientious260 anxiety prevents them from leaving the spot. Until at last—at last!—the ban is broken, and Bashan, redeemed261, and with the air of having just been granted a new lease of life, goes bounding off.
I mention these things in order to indicate how strange and alien so close a friend may appear under certain circumstances—times when his entire nature reveals itself as something eerie and obscure. I brood upon this mystery and find no answer save a shake of the head. It is only by intuition and not by reason that I am able to identify myself with it. Otherwise I am well acquainted with Bashan’s inner world, and am able to meet its every manifestation262 with sympathy and with cheerfulness—to understand his play of features, his whole behaviour.
How well, for example, a solitary example, do I know that chirruping yawn to which he has recourse whenever he has been disappointed in the results of a walk. It may be that the walk was all too short or else barren of events in a sporting sense—as sometimes happens when I have begun my day’s work a little later than usual and have gone into the open air with Bashan for a brief quarter of an hour before sitting down at my desk. He walks beside me then, and yawns. It is a shameless, impolite, wide-angle yawning—the yawning of the beast, of the brute263, and it is accompanied by a whistling, guttural note and by a hurt and bored look. It says, as clearly as words:—
“A nice sort of master I’ve got! I went and fetched him from the bridge last night. And now he goes and sits behind that there glass door, and I’ve got to wait till he goes out, and me a-perishing with impatience264. And then at last when he does go out, he turns round again and starts back home before I’ve had a sniff at a single bit o’ game! A fine sort of master, eh? And what a mean trick to play on a hound! Why, he ain’t fit to be called a master at all!”
Such are the sentiments expressed with rude clarity by these yawns of his—and there is no mistaking them. I am also aware that he is perfectly265 right in cherishing such sentiments and that in his eyes I am guilty. And so my hand steals towards his shoulder for a pat or two, or I proceed to stroke the top of his skull266. But he has no use for caresses267 under such circumstances. He refuses to acknowledge or accept them. He gives another yawn, and this still more rudely than before, if that be possible, and withdraws himself from my conciliatory hand. He withdraws himself, even though he is extremely fond of such caresses, in accordance with his earthy, all too earthy sentimentality, and in contradistinction to the impervious268 Percy. He particularly appreciates being scratched upon the throat, and he has acquired a droll269 but adroit270 energy in guiding one’s hand to the proper place by means of short movements of the head. That he ignores all tendernesses at present is due not only to his disillusion and disappointment, but also to the fact that he has no interest for such fondlings when in a state of movement, that is, a state of movement co-ordinated with mine. He is then obsessed271 by a masculine mood and spirit, and scorns all feminine touches. But an immediate98 change takes place as soon as I sit down. Then his heart expands and he becomes receptive to all friendly advances, and his manner of responding to them is full of rapturous and awkward insistence.
Often, when I chance to be seated on my chair in the angle of the garden wall or in the grass with my back against some favourite tree, reading a book, I am happy to interrupt my literary occupation in order to speak and play with Bashan. I repeat—to speak with him. And what do I find to say? Well, the conversation is usually limited to repeating his name to him—his name—those two syllables272 which concern him more than all others, since they designate nothing but himself, and thus have an electrifying273 effect upon his entire being. I thus stir and fire his consciousness of his ego236 by abjuring274 him in different tones and in different degrees of emphasis to consider the fact that he is called Bashan and that he is Bashan. By keeping this up for a short time I am able to throw him into a state of veritable ecstasy275, a kind of drunkenness of identity, so that he begins to rotate upon his own axis and to send loud barks towards heaven—all out of sheer inner triumph and the proud compulsion of his heart. Or we amuse each other in that I flick276 him upon the nose, whilst he snaps at my hand as at a fly. This forces both of us to laugh, yes, even Bashan must laugh. This laugh of his—to which I must instinctively277 respond, is for me the most wonderful and touching thing in the world. It is unutterably moving to see how his haggard canine cheek and the corners of his mouth quiver and jerk to the excitement of the teasing, how the dusky mien of the dumb creature takes on the physiognomic expression of human laughter, or how a troubled, helpless, and melancholy reflection of this appears and vanishes again to give way to the stigmata of fear and embarrassment, and then how it once more makes its wry278 appearance. . . .
But it is best to pause here and not involve myself deeper in detail. I must not allow my descriptions to exceed the limits which I have set. I merely wish to show my hero in all his glory and in his natural elements and in that position in life in which he is most himself and which casts the most favourable light upon his various gifts and accomplishments—that is to say, the hunt or chase. I must, however, as a preliminary, make the reader more closely acquainted with the scene of these joys—our hunting-grounds—my landscape along the river. For there is a strange affinity279 between this and the person of Bashan. This strip of land is as dear to me as it is to him—it is intimate and full of meaning—like himself. Therefore, without further ado or novellistic preciosity, let the following suffice in the way of description:—
THE HUNTING-GROUNDS
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1
obnoxious
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| adj.极恼人的，讨人厌的，可憎的 | |
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tenacious
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| adj.顽强的，固执的，记忆力强的，粘的 | |
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scour
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| v.搜索；擦，洗，腹泻，冲刷 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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vaulting
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| n.（天花板或屋顶的）拱形结构 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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vigilant
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| adj.警觉的，警戒的，警惕的 | |
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tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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edible
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| n.食品，食物；adj.可食用的 | |
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smear
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| v.涂抹；诽谤，玷污；n.污点；诽谤，污蔑 | |
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21
blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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prohibition
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| n.禁止；禁令，禁律 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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disporting
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| v.嬉戏，玩乐，自娱( disport的现在分词 ) | |
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pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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32
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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33
sniffs
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的第三人称单数 )；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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34
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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promenades
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| n.人行道( promenade的名词复数 )；散步场所；闲逛v.兜风( promenade的第三人称单数 ) | |
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promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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tepid
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| adj.微温的，温热的，不太热心的 | |
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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42
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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43
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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44
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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46
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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47
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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48
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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49
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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50
metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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51
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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52
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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lured
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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55
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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plunges
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| n.跳进，投入vt.使投入，使插入，使陷入vi.投入，跳进，陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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beholds
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| v.看，注视( behold的第三人称单数 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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61
subsides
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的第三人称单数 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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contrite
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| adj.悔悟了的，后悔的，痛悔的 | |
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64
begets
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| v.为…之生父( beget的第三人称单数 )；产生，引起 | |
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belie
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| v.掩饰，证明为假 | |
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repudiates
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| v.（正式地）否认( repudiate的第三人称单数 )；拒绝接受；拒绝与…往来；拒不履行（法律义务） | |
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pickets
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| 罢工纠察员( picket的名词复数 ) | |
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groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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69
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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70
bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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71
yokel
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| n.乡下人；农夫 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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73
prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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pricks
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| 刺痛( prick的名词复数 )； 刺孔； 刺痕； 植物的刺 | |
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75
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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76
slumbers
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| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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siesta
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| n.午睡 | |
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unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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80
heralding
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| v.预示( herald的现在分词 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
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81
lures
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| 吸引力，魅力（lure的复数形式） | |
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82
tugs
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| n.猛拉( tug的名词复数 )；猛拖；拖船v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的第三人称单数 ) | |
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83
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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84
persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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85
pulsates
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| v.有节奏地舒张及收缩( pulsate的第三人称单数 )；跳动；脉动；受（激情）震动 | |
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86
feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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87
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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88
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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89
dwindles
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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90
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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91
reverts
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| 恢复( revert的第三人称单数 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
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92
bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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93
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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94
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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95
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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96
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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97
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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98
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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99
axis
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| n.轴，轴线，中心线；坐标轴，基准线 | |
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100
hurl
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| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
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101
hurls
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的第三人称单数 )；大声叫骂 | |
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102
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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103
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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104
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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105
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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106
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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107
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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108
disillusion
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| vt.使不再抱幻想，使理想破灭 | |
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109
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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110
concussion
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| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
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111
crescendo
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| n.(音乐)渐强，高潮 | |
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112
triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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113
stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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114
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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115
mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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116
cavort
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| v.腾跃 | |
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117
converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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118
arduous
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| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
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119
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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120
gadding
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| n.叮搔症adj.蔓生的v.闲逛( gad的现在分词 )；游荡；找乐子；用铁棒刺 | |
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121
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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122
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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123
apropos
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| adv.恰好地；adj.恰当的；关于 | |
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124
monks
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| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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125
vigilantly
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|
| adv.警觉地，警惕地 | |
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126
insolently
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|
| adv.自豪地，自傲地 | |
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127
ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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128
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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129
serene
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|
| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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130
seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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131
distrait
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| adj.心不在焉的 | |
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132
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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133
mundane
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|
| adj.平凡的；尘世的；宇宙的 | |
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134
retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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135
salutes
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|
| n.致敬，欢迎，敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎，致敬( salute的第三人称单数 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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136
touchiness
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|
| n.易动气，过分敏感 | |
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137
capering
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|
| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的现在分词 )；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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138
intensified
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|
| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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139
homely
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|
| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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140
resentment
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|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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141
utterly
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|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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142
naught
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|
| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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143
momentous
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|
| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
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144
wondrous
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|
| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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145
transcript
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|
| n.抄本，誊本，副本，肄业证书 | |
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146
lamented
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|
| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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147
distinguished
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|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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148
uncommon
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|
| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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149
enunciation
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| n.清晰的发音；表明，宣言；口齿 | |
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150
remains
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|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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151
heartiness
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| 诚实，热心 | |
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152
touching
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|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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153
transgressed
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|
| v.超越( transgress的过去式和过去分词 )；越过；违反；违背 | |
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154
antithesis
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|
| n.对立；相对 | |
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155
sentimental
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|
| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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156
predecessor
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| n.前辈，前任 | |
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157
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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158
cult
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| n.异教，邪教；时尚，狂热的崇拜 | |
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159
kennel
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| n.狗舍，狗窝 | |
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160
justifiable
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|
| adj.有理由的，无可非议的 | |
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161
robust
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|
| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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162
miraculously
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|
| ad.奇迹般地 | |
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163
inclemency
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| n.险恶，严酷 | |
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164
wrings
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|
| 绞( wring的第三人称单数 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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165
whining
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|
| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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166
naive
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|
| adj.幼稚的，轻信的；天真的 | |
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167
disarm
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| v.解除武装，回复平常的编制，缓和 | |
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168
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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169
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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170
sprained
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|
| v.&n. 扭伤 | |
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171
wailing
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|
| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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172
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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173
swooping
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的现在分词 ) | |
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174
grit
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| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
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175
rawhide
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|
| n.生牛皮 | |
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176
epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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177
secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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178
sinister
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|
| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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179
chastisement
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| n.惩罚 | |
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180
extremities
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|
| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
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181
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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182
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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183
punitive
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| adj.惩罚的，刑罚的 | |
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184
insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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185
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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186
vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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187
vaulter
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| n.撑竿跳运动员 | |
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188
balk
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| n.大方木料；v.妨碍；不愿前进或从事某事 | |
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189
insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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190
sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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191
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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192
mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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193
attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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194
pusillanimity
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| n.无气力，胆怯 | |
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195
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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196
disturbance
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|
| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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197
inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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198
inauguration
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| n.开幕、就职典礼 | |
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199
obduracy
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| n.冷酷无情，顽固，执拗 | |
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200
incapable
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|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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201
canine
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| adj.犬的，犬科的 | |
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202
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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203
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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204
transparent
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|
| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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205
penetration
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| n.穿透，穿人，渗透 | |
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206
tribal
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|
| adj.部族的，种族的 | |
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207
poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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208
embarrassment
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|
| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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209
ticklish
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|
| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
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210
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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211
impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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212
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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213
distressful
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| adj.苦难重重的，不幸的，使苦恼的 | |
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214
lamenting
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|
| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
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215
humble
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|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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216
pacification
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| n. 讲和，绥靖，平定 | |
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217
reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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218
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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219
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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220
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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221
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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222
raves
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| n.狂欢晚会( rave的名词复数 )v.胡言乱语( rave的第三人称单数 )；愤怒地说；咆哮；痴心地说 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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225
hurling
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| n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的现在分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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226
vilest
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| adj.卑鄙的( vile的最高级 )；可耻的；极坏的；非常讨厌的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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228
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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229
duress
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| n.胁迫 | |
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230
apex
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| n.顶点，最高点 | |
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231
blithely
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| adv.欢乐地，快活地，无挂虑地 | |
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232
gambolling
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| v.蹦跳，跳跃，嬉戏( gambol的现在分词 ) | |
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233
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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234
undesirable
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| adj.不受欢迎的，不良的，不合意的，讨厌的；n.不受欢迎的人，不良分子 | |
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235
negotiations
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| 协商( negotiation的名词复数 )； 谈判； 完成（难事）； 通过 | |
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236
ego
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| n.自我，自己，自尊 | |
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237
tussle
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| n.&v.扭打，搏斗，争辩 | |
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238
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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239
deign
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| v. 屈尊, 惠允 ( 做某事) | |
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240
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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241
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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242
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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243
perils
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| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
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244
evasion
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| n.逃避，偷漏(税) | |
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245
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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squint
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| v. 使变斜视眼, 斜视, 眯眼看, 偏移, 窥视; n. 斜视, 斜孔小窗; adj. 斜视的, 斜的 | |
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247
watchfulness
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| 警惕，留心； 警觉（性） | |
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248
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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249
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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251
chaotic
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| adj.混沌的，一片混乱的，一团糟的 | |
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252
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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hoist
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| n.升高，起重机，推动；v.升起，升高，举起 | |
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antagonist
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| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
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255
ebb
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| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
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contingencies
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| n.偶然发生的事故，意外事故( contingency的名词复数 )；以备万一 | |
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257
fettered
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| v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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aligned
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| adj.对齐的，均衡的 | |
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squinting
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| 斜视( squint的现在分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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261
redeemed
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| adj. 可赎回的，可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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262
manifestation
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| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
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263
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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264
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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265
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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266
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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267
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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268
impervious
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| adj.不能渗透的，不能穿过的，不易伤害的 | |
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269
droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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270
adroit
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| adj.熟练的，灵巧的 | |
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271
obsessed
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| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
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272
syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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273
electrifying
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| v.使电气化( electrify的现在分词 )；使兴奋 | |
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274
abjuring
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| v.发誓放弃( abjure的现在分词 )；郑重放弃（意见）；宣布撤回（声明等）；避免 | |
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275
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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276
flick
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| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
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277
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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278
wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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279
affinity
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| n.亲和力，密切关系 | |
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