“Have you heard anything about how the whole show is going?” Kentucky asked one of the orderlies. “Not a word,” said the man. “Leastways, we’ve heard so many words you can’t believe any of ’em. Some o’ the casualties tells us one thing an’ some another. But we’ve bumped the Hun back a lump, that’s sure. They all tell us that.”
Kentucky stayed there some minutes longer, waiting his turn and watching the doctors at their work. They were kept hard at it. The casualties came stumbling down the stair in an unbroken procession, and in turn passed along to the doctors at the tables. Most of those that walked had bandages about their heads, faces, hands, or arms; most of them were smeared6 and spattered255 with blood, all of them were plastered thick with mud. Many had sleeves slit7 open or shirts cut away, and jackets slung8 loosely over their shoulders, and as they moved glimpses of white flesh and patches of bandage showed vividly9 fresh and clean behind the torn covering of blood-stained and muddy khaki. As fast as the doctor finished one man another took his place, and without an instant’s pause the doctor washed from his mind the effort of thought concentrated on the last case, pounced10 on the newcomer, and, hurriedly stripping off the bandages, plunged11 into the problem of the fresh case, examining, diagnosing, and labeling it, cleansing12 the wound of the clotted13 blood and mud that clung about it, redressing14 and bandaging it. Then each man’s breast was bared and a hypodermic injection of “anti-tetanus” serum15 made, and the man passed along to join the others waiting to go back to the ambulances. And before he was well clear of the table the doctor had turned and was busied about the next case. The work went on at top speed, as smooth as sweet-running machinery16, as fast and efficiently17 as the sorting and packing of goods in a warehouse18 by a well-drilled and expert staff. It was curiously19 like the handling of merchandise, if you gave your256 main attention to the figures passing down the stairs, moving into line up to the tables, halting there a few minutes, moving on again and away. The men might have been parcels shifting one by one up to the packers’ tables and away from them, or those pieces of metal in a factory which trickle20 up leisurely21 to a whirling lathe22, are seized by it, turned, poked23, spun24 about with feverish25 haste for a minute by the machine, pushed out clear to resume their leisured progress while the machine jumps on the next piece and works its ordered will upon it. That was the impression if one watched the men filing up to and away from the doctor’s hands. It was quite different if attention were concentrated on the doctor alone and the case he handled. That brought instant realization26 of the human side, the high skill of the swiftly moving fingers, the perfection of knowledge that directed them, the second-cutting haste with which a bandage was stripped off, the tenderness that over-rode the haste as the raw wound and quivering flesh were bared, the sure, unhesitating touch that handled the wound with a maximum of speed finely adjusted to a minimum of hurt, the knowledge that saw in one swift glance what was to be done, the technical skill, instant, exact, and undeviating,257 that did it. Here, too, was another human side in the men who moved forward one by one into the strong lamp-light to be handled and dealt with, to hear maybe and pretend not to heed27 the verdict that meant a remaining life to be spent in crippled incompetence29, in bed-ridden helplessness; or a sentence that left nothing of hope, that reduced to bare hours in the semi-dark of underground, of cold and damp, of lonely thoughts, the life of a man who a few hours before had been crammed30 with health and strength and vitality31, overflowing32 with animal fitness and energy. With all these men it appeared to be a point of honor to show nothing of flinching33 from pain or from fear of the future. All at least bore the pain grimly and stoically, most bore it cheerfully, looked a detached sort of interest at their uncovered wounds, spoke36 with the doctor lightly or even jestingly. If it was a slight wound there was usually a great anxiety to know if it would be “a Blighty one”; if it were serious, the anxiety was still there, but studiously hidden under an assumed carelessness, and the questioning would be as to whether “it would have to come off” or “is there a chance for me?”
When Kentucky’s turn came he moved forward258 and sat himself on a low box beside the table, and before he was well seated the orderly was slipping off the jacket thrown over his shoulders and buttoned across his chest. The doctor was in his shirt-sleeves, and a dew of perspiration37 beaded his forehead and shone damp on his face and throat. “Shell, sir,” said Kentucky in answer to the quick question as the doctor began rapidly to unwind the bandages on his shoulder. “Dropped in a shell hole next the one I was lying in with another man. That’s him,” and he nodded to where Pug lay on the other doctor’s table. “He’s hurt much worse than me. He’s a particular chum of mine, sir, and—would you mind, sir?—if you could ask the other doctor he might tell me what Pug’s chances are.”
“We’ll see,” said the doctor. “But I’m afraid you’ve got a nasty hand here yourself,” as he carefully unwound the last of the bandage from Kentucky’s fingers and gently pulled away the blood-clotted pad from them. “Yes, sir,” agreed Kentucky. “But, you see, Pug got it in the leg, and the bearers say that’s smashed to flinders, and he’s plugged full of other holes as well. I’m rather anxious about him, sir; and if you could ask....”
259
“Presently,” said the doctor, and went on with his work. “What was your job before the war? Will it cripple you seriously to lose that hand; because I’m afraid they’ll have to amputate when you go down.”
Kentucky was anxiously watching the men at the other table and trying to catch a glimpse of what they were doing. “It doesn’t matter so much about that, sir,” he said: “and I’m a lot more worried about Pug. He’ll lose a leg if he loses anything, and mebbe he mightn’t pull through. Couldn’t you just have a look at him yourself, sir?”
As it happened, his doctor was called over a minute later to a hurried consultation38 at the other table. The two doctors conferred hastily, and then Kentucky’s doctor came back to finish his bandaging.
“Bad,” he said at once in answer to Kentucky’s look. “Very bad. Doubtful if it is worth giving him a place in the ambulance. But he has a faint chance. We’ll send him down later—when there’s room—if he lasts.... There you are ... now the anti-tetanic....” busying himself with the needle “... and off you go to Blighty.”
260
“Thank you, sir,” said Kentucky. “And can I stay beside Pug till it’s time to move?”
“Yes,” said the doctor. “But I’m afraid we’ll have to let you walk if you can manage it. There’s desperately39 little room in the ambulances.”
“I can walk all right, sir,” said Kentucky; and presently, with a label tied to the breast of his jacket, moved aside to wait for Pug’s removal from the table. They brought him over presently and carried him into the other room and laid him down there close to the foot of another stair leading to above-ground. Kentucky squatted40 beside him and leaned over the stretcher. “Are you awake, Pug?” he said softly, and immediately Pug’s eyes opened. “Hullo, Kentuck,” he said cheerfully. “Yes, I’m awake orright. They wanted to gimme another dose o’ that sleep stuff in there, but I tole ’em I wasn’t feelin’ these holes hurt a bit. I wanted to ’ave a talk to you, y’see, ol’ man, an’ didn’t know if another pill ’ud let me.”
“Sure they don’t hurt much?” said Kentucky.
“No,” said Pug; “but it looks like a wash-out for me, Kentuck.”
“Never believe it, boy,” said Kentucky, forcing a gayety that was the last thing he actually261 felt. “We’re going down and over to Blighty together.”
Pug grinned up at him. “No kid stakes, Kentuck,” he said; “or mebbe you don’t know. But I ’eard wot them M.O.s was sayin’, though they didn’t know I did. They said it wasn’t worth sendin’ me out to the ambulance. You knows wot that means as well as me, Kentuck.”
Kentucky was silent. He knew only too well what it meant. Where every stretcher and every place in the ambulances is the precious means of conveyance42 back to the doctors, and hospitals, and the hope of their saving of the many men who have a chance of that saving, no stretcher and no place dare be wasted to carry back a dying man, merely that he may die in another place. The ones that may be saved take precedence, and those that are considered hopeless must wait until a slackening of the rush allows them to be sent. In one way it may seem cruel, but in the other and larger way it is the more humane43 and merciful.
“There’s always a chance, Pug,” said Kentucky, striving to capture hope himself. “Course there is,” said Pug. “An’ you can bet I’m goin’ to fight it out an’ cheat them doctors if it can be done, Kentuck. You’ll go down ahead o’ me, but262 there ain’t so many casualties comin’ in now, an’ the battalion44 bein’ on the way out will leave less to be casualtied an’ more room on the amb’lance. You keep a lookout45 for me, Kentuck. I might be down at the boat as soon as you yet.”
“That’s the talk, boy,” said Kentucky. A man hobbling on a stick came in from the doctors’ room, and, seeing Kentucky, picked his way over the outstretched forms to him. “Hello, Kentuck,” he said. “You got your packet passed out to you, then. An’ you, too, Pug?” as he caught sight of Pug’s face half-hidden in bandages.
“Cheer-oh, Jimmy,” said Pug. “Yes, gave me my little sooven-eer all right. An’ the worst of it is I’m afraid they’ve made a mess o’ my fatal beauty.”
“Never min’, Pug,” said Jimmy, chuckling46 and seating himself beside the stretcher. “I see they’ve lef’ your ’andsome boko in action an’ fully34 efficient.”
“Wot’s yours?” said Pug with interest. “Oh, nothin’ much,” said the other. “Bit of shrap through the foot. Just good enough for Blighty, an’ nothin’ else to fuss about. How far did you get?”
Pug tried to tell his story, but in spite of himself263 his voice weakened and slurred47, and Kentucky, catching48 Jimmy’s eye, placed his finger on his lips and nodded significantly towards Pug. Jimmy took the hint promptly49. “Hullo, some more o’ the old crush over there,” he said. “I must go’n ’ave a chin-wag with ’em,” and he moved off.
“D’you think you could find me a drink, Kentuck?” said Pug; and Kentucky went and got some from an orderly and brought it and held it to the hot lips. After that he made Pug lie quiet, telling him he was sure it was bad for him to be talking; and because the drug still had a certain amount of hold perhaps, Pug half-drowsed and woke and drowsed again. And each time he woke Kentucky spoke quietly and cheerfully to him, and lied calmly, saying it wasn’t time for him to go yet—although many others had gone and Kentucky had deliberately50 missed his turn to go for the sake of remaining beside the broken lad. Most of the walking cases went on at once or in company with stretcher parties, but Kentucky let them go and waited on, hour after hour. His own arm and hand were throbbing51 painfully, and he was feeling cold and sick and deadly tired. He was not sleepy, and this apparently52 was unusual, for264 most of the men there, if their pain was not too great, lay or sat and slept the moment they had the chance. Although many went, the room was always full, because others came as fast. The place was lit by a couple of hanging lamps, and blue wreaths of cigarette smoke curled and floated up past their chimneys and drifted up the stairway. Kentucky sat almost opposite the stair, and the lamplight shone on the steps and on the figures that disappeared up it one by one, their legs and feet tramping up after their heads and bodies had passed out of vision. The ground above had evidently been churned into thin mud, and the water from this ran down the stair, and a solid mass of the thicker mud followed gradually and overflowed53 step by step under the trampling54 feet. For an hour Kentucky watched it coming lower and lower, and thought disgustedly of the moment when it would reach the floor and be tramped and spread out over it, thick and slimy and filthy56. His back began to ache, and the tiredness to grip and numb57 him, and his thoughts turned with intolerable longing58 to the moment when he would get off his mud-encrusted clothes and lie in a clean hospital bed. Every now and then some orderlies and bearers clumped59 down the stair into the265 dug-out, and after a little stir of preparation a batch60 of the wounded would walk or be helped or carried up out into the open to start their journey back to the ambulances. But the cleared space they left quickly filled again with the steady inflow of men who came from the doctors’ hands in the other room, and these in their turn settled themselves to wait their turn squatting along the walls or lying patiently on their stretchers. They were all plastered and daubed with wet mud and clay, worn and drooping61 with pain and fatigue62; but all who had a spark of consciousness or energy left were most amazingly cheerful and contented63. They smoked cigarettes and exchanged experiences and opinions, and all were most anxious to find out something of how “the show” had gone. It was extraordinary how little they each appeared to know of the fight they had taken such an active part in, how ignorant they were of how well or ill the action had gone as a whole. Some talked very positively64, but were promptly questioned or contradicted by others just as positive; others confessed blank ignorance of everything except that they themselves had stayed in some ditch for a certain number of hours, or that the battalion had been “held up” by machine-gun fire;266 or that the shelling had been “hell.” “But if I’d ’a’ had to ha’ choosed,” said one, “I’d ha’ sooner been under their shell-fire than ours. The Bosche trenches65 in front o’ us was just blowed out by the roots.”
“Never seed no Bosche trenches myself,” said another. “I dodged67 along outer one shell-hole inter35 another for a bit an’ couldn’t see a thing for smoke. An’ then I copped it and crawled back in an’ out more shell-holes. Only dash thing I’ve seed o’ this battle has been shell-holes an’ smoke.”
“Anyways,” put in a man with a bandaged jaw68, mumblingly69, “if we didn’t see much we heard plenty. I didn’t think a man’s bloomin’ ears would ’ave ’eld so much row at onct.”
“We got heaps an’ heaps o’ prisoners,” said a man from his stretcher. “I saw that much. We muster70 took a good bit o’ ground to get what I saw myself o’ them.”
“Hadn’t took much where I was,” remarked another. “I didn’t stir out of the trench66 we occupied till a crump blew me out in a heap.”
“Did any o’ you see them Tanks? Lumme, wasn’t they a fair treat?...”
Talk of the Tanks spread over all the dug-out.267 It was plain that they were the feature of the battle. Every man who had seen them had wonder tales to tell; every man who had not seen was thirsting for information from the others. The Tanks were one huge joke. Their actual services were overshadowed by their humor. They drew endless comparisons and similes71; the dug-out rippled28 with laughter and chucklings over their appearance, their uncouth72 antics and—primest jest of all—the numbers their guns had cut down, the attempts of the Germans to bolt from them, the speed and certainty with which a gust55 of their machine-gun fire had caught a hustling73 mob of fugitives74, hailed through them, tumbled them in kicking, slaughtered75 heaps.
In the midst of the talk a sudden heavy crash sounded outside and set the dug-out quivering. A couple more followed, and a few men came down the stairs and stood crowded together on its lower steps and about its foot.
“Pitchin’ ’em pretty close,” one of these informed the dug-out. “Too close for comfort. An’ there’s about a dozen chaps lyin’ on top there waitin’ for stretchers.”
Immediately there followed another tremendous crash that set the dug-out rocking like a boat268 struck by a heavy wave. From above came a confused shouting, and the men on the stair surged back and down a step, while earth fragments rattled76 and pattered down after them.
In the dug-out some of the men cursed and others laughed and thanked their stars—and the Bosche diggers of the dug-out—that they were so deep under cover. The next shells fell further away, but since the Germans of course knew the exact location of the dug-out, there was every prospect77 of more close shooting.
Efforts were concentrated on clearing the wounded who lay at the top of the stair in the open and as many of the occupants of the dug-out as possible.
But Kentucky managed to resist or evade78 being turned out and held his place in the shadows at Pug’s head, sat there still and quiet and watched the others come one by one and pass out in batches79. And each time Pug stirred and spoke, “You there, Kentuck? Ain’t it time you was gone?” told him, “Not yet, boy. Presently.” And he noticed with a pang80 that each time Pug spoke his voice was fainter and weaker. He spoke to an orderly at last, and the doctor came and made a quick examination. With his finger still on269 Pug’s wrist he looked up at Kentucky and slightly shook his head and spoke in a low tone. “Nothing to be done,” he said, and rose and passed to where he could do something.
“Kentuck,” said Pug very weakly; “collar hold o’ that Germ ’elmet o’ mine. I got no one at ’ome to send it to ... an’ I’d like you to ’av it, chummy ... for a sooven-eer ... o’ an ol’ pal81.” Kentucky with an effort steadied his voice and stooped and whispered for a minute. He could just catch a faint answer, “I’m orright, chum. I ain’t afeard none ...” and then after a long pause, “Don’t you worry ’bout me. I’m orright.” And that was his last word.
Kentucky passed up the stair and out into the cold air heavily and almost reluctantly. Even although he could do nothing more, he hated leaving Pug; but room was precious in the dug-out, and the orderlies urged him to be off. He joined a party of several other “walking cases” and a couple of men on stretchers, and with them struck off across the battlefield towards the point on the road which was the nearest the ambulance could approach to the dressing station. The Germans had begun to shell again, and several “crumps” fell near the dug-out. Kentucky, with his mind270 busied in thoughts of Pug, hardly heeded82, but the others of the party expressed an anxiety and showed a nervousness greater than Kentucky had ever noticed before. The explanation was simple, and was voiced by one cheerful casualty on a stretcher. “I’ve got my dose, an’ I’m bound for Blighty,” he said, “an’ gels chuckin’ flowers in the ambulance in Lunnon. If you bloomin’ bearers goes cartin’ me into the way o’ stoppin’ another one—strewth, I’ll come back an’ ’aunt yer. I’ve ’ad the physic, an’ I don’t want to go missin’ none o’ the jam.”
They moved slowly across the torn fields and down along the slope towards the road. In the valley they walked in thin, filmy mists, and further on, where low hills rose out of the hollow, camp fires twinkled and winked83 in scores on the hillsides. And still further, when they rounded a low shoulder and the valley and the hills beyond opened wide to them, the fires increased from scores to hundreds. “Bloomin’ Crystal Palis on firework night,” said one man, and “Why don’t the special constables84 make ’em draw the blinds an’ shade the lights?” said another.
Kentucky saw these things, heard the men’s talk, without noting them; and yet the impression271 must have been deeper and sharper than he knew, for there came a day when he recalled every spot of light and blot85 of shadow, every curve of hill and mist-shrouded valley, every word and smothered86 groan87 and rough jest and laugh, as clearly as if they had been in his eyes and ears a minute before. In the same detached way he saw the bodies of men lying stiff in grotesque88, twisted postures89 or in the peaceful attitudes of quiet sleep, the crawling mists and the lanterns of orderlies and stretcher-bearers searching the field for any still living, heard the weak quavering calls that came out of the mists at intervals90 like the lonely cries of sheep lost on a mountain crag, the thin, long-drawn “He-e-e-lp” of men too sore stricken to move, calling to guide the rescuers they knew would be seeking them. And in the same fashion, after they came to the ambulances waiting on the broken roadside and he had been helped to the seat beside the driver of one, he noticed how slowly and carefully the man drove and twisted in and out dodging91 the shell holes; noticed, without then realizing their significance, the legions of men who tramped silently and stolidly92, or whistling and singing and blowing on mouth-organs, on their way up to the firing272 line, the faces emerging white and the rifles glinting out of the darkness into the brightness of the headlights. The car made a wide detour93 by a road which ran over a portion of ground captured from the Germans a few weeks before. A cold gray light was creeping in before they cleared this ground that already was a swarming94 hive of British troops, and further than the faint light showed, Kentucky could see and sense parked ranks of wagons95, lines of horses, packed camps of men and rows of bivouacs. From there and for miles back the car crept slowly past gun positions and batteries beyond count or reckoning, jolted96 across the metals of a railway line that was already running into the captured ground, past “dump” after “dump” of ammunition97, big shells and little piled in stacks and house-high pyramids, patches of ground floored acre-wide with trench mortar98 bombs like big footballs, familiar gray boxes of grenades and rifle cartridges99, shells again, and yet more shells. “Don’t look like we expected to ever lose any o’ this ground again,” said the driver cheerfully, and Kentucky realized—then and afterwards—just how little it looked like it, and quoted softly to himself, from the Battle Hymn100 again—“He has sounded forth101 the trumpet273 that shall never call retreat.” As the light grew and the car passed back to where the road was less damaged or better repaired their speed increased and they ran spattering in the roadside to meet more long columns of men with the brown rifle barrels sloped and swaying evenly above the yellow ranks—”... a fiery102 gospel writ103 in rows of burnished104 steel,” murmured Kentucky. “Wot say?” questioned the driver. “Nothing,” said Kentucky. “That’s the clearin’ station ahead there,” said the driver. “You’ll soon be tucked up safe in a bed now, or pushin’ on to the ambulance train and a straight run ’ome to Blighty.”
So Kentucky came out of the battle, and stepping down from the ambulance, with an alert orderly attentive105 at his elbow to help him, took the first step into the swift stages of the journey home, and the long vista106 of kindness, gentleness, and thoughtful care for which the hospital service is only another name. From here he had nothing to do but sleep, eat, and get well. He was done with battle, and quit of the firing line. But as he came away the war had one more word for his ear, and as he was carried on board the hospital train, the distant guns growled107 and muttered274 their last same message to him—“grapes of wrath108, of wrath, of wrath.”
And after he had lost the last dull rumble109 of the guns he still bore the memory of their message with him, carried it down to the edge of France, and across the Narrow Seas, and into the sheltered calm of England.
He had been strangely impressed by the fitting of his half-forgotten verses to all he had come through, and their chance but clear coincidence worked oddly on him, and came in the end to be a vital influence in picking the path of his immediate41 future and leading it utterly110 away from other plans.
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1
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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5
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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8
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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9
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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10
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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11
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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12
cleansing
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| n. 净化(垃圾) adj. 清洁用的 动词cleanse的现在分词 | |
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clotted
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| adj.凝结的v.凝固( clot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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redressing
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| v.改正( redress的现在分词 )；重加权衡；恢复平衡 | |
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serum
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| n.浆液，血清，乳浆 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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efficiently
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| adv.高效率地，有能力地 | |
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warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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trickle
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| vi.淌，滴，流出，慢慢移动，逐渐消散 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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lathe
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| n.车床，陶器，镟床 | |
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poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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incompetence
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| n.不胜任，不称职 | |
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crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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flinching
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的现在分词 ) | |
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34
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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35
inter
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| v.埋葬 | |
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36
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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37
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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38
consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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39
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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40
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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41
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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42
conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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43
humane
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| adj.人道的，富有同情心的 | |
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44
battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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45
lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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46
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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47
slurred
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| 含糊地说出( slur的过去式和过去分词 )； 含糊地发…的声； 侮辱； 连唱 | |
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48
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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49
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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50
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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51
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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52
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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53
overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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54
trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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55
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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56
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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57
numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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58
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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59
clumped
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| adj.[医]成群的v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的过去式和过去分词 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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60
batch
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| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
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61
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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62
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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63
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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64
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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65
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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66
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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67
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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68
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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69
mumblingly
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| 说话含糊地，咕哝地 | |
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muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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71
similes
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| （使用like或as等词语的）明喻( simile的名词复数 ) | |
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uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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73
hustling
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| 催促（hustle的现在分词形式） | |
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74
fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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75
slaughtered
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| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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77
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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78
evade
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| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
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79
batches
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| 一批( batch的名词复数 )； 一炉； （食物、药物等的）一批生产的量； 成批作业 | |
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80
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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81
pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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82
heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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84
constables
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| n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
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85
blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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86
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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87
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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88
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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89
postures
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| 姿势( posture的名词复数 )； 看法； 态度； 立场 | |
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90
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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91
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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92
stolidly
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| adv.迟钝地，神经麻木地 | |
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93
detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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94
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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95
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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96
jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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98
mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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99
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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100
hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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101
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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102
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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103
writ
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| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
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104
burnished
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| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
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105
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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106
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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107
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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108
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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109
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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110
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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