It is then as though a herd2 of giants, things of enormous height, came out from lairs3 in the earth and began to play with the hills. It is as though they picked up the tops of the hills in their hands and then let them drop rather slowly. It is exactly like hills falling. You see the flashes all along the sky, and then that lumping thump4 as though the top of the hill had been let drop, not all in one piece, but crumbled5 a little as it would drop from your hands if you were three hundred feet high and were fooling about in the night, spoiling what it had taken so long to make. That is heavy stuff bursting, a little way off.
If you are anywhere near a shell that is bursting, you can hear in it a curious metallic6 ring. That applies to the shells of either side, provided that you are near enough, though usually of course it is the hostile shell and not your own that you are nearest to, and so one distinguishes them. It is curious, after such a colossal7 event as this explosion must be in the life of a bar of steel, that anything should remain at all of the old bell-like voice of the metal, but it appears to, if you listen attentively8; it is perhaps its last remonstrance9 before leaving its shape and going back to rust10 in the earth again for ages.
Another of the voices of the night is the whine11 the shell makes in coming; it is not unlike the cry the hyena12 utters as soon as it’s dark in Africa: “How nice traveller would taste,” the hyena seems to say, and “I want dead White Man.” It is the rising note of the shell as it comes nearer, and its dying away when it has gone over, that make it reminiscent of the hyena’s method of diction. If it is not going over then it has something quite different to say. It begins the same as the other, it comes up, talking of the back areas with the same long whine as the other. I have heard old hands say “That one is going well over.” “Whee-oo,” says the shell; but just where the “oo” should be long drawn13 out and turn into the hyena’s final syllable14, it says something quite different. “Zarp,” it says. That is bad. Those are the shells that are looking for you.
And then of course there is the whizz-bang coming from close, along his flat trajectory15: he has little to say, but comes like a sudden wind, and all that he has to do is done and over at once.
And then there is the gas shell, who goes over gurgling gluttonously16, probably in big herds17, putting down a barrage18. It is the liquid inside that gurgles before it is turned to gas by the mild explosion; that is the explanation of it; yet that does not prevent one picturing a tribe of cannibals who have winded some nice juicy men and are smacking19 their chops and dribbling20 in anticipation21.
And a wonderful thing to see, even in those wonderful nights, is our thermite bursting over the heads of the Germans. The shell breaks into a shower of golden rain; one cannot judge easily at night how high from the ground it breaks, but about as high as the tops of trees seen at a hundred yards. It spreads out evenly all round and rains down slowly; it is a bad shower to be out in, and for a long time after it has fallen, the sodden22 grass of winter, and the mud and old bones beneath it, burn quietly in a circle. On such a night as this, and in such showers, the flying pigs will go over, which take two men to carry each of them; they go over and root right down to the German dugout, where the German has come in out of the golden rain, and they fling it all up in the air.
These are such nights as Scheherazade with all her versatility23 never dreamed of; or if such nightmares came she certainly never told of them, or her august master, the Sultan, light of the age, would have had her at once beheaded; and his people would have deemed that he did well. It has been reserved for a modern autocrat24 to dream such a nightmare, driven to it perhaps by the tales of a white-whiskered Scheherazade, the Lord of the Kiel Canal; and being an autocrat he has made the nightmare a reality for the world. But the nightmare is stronger than its master, and grows mightier25 every night; and the All-Highest War Lord learns that there are powers in Hell that are easily summoned by the rulers of earth, but that go not easily home.
点击收听单词发音
1 Flared | |
adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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2 herd | |
n.兽群,牧群;vt.使集中,把…赶在一起 | |
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3 lairs | |
n.(野兽的)巢穴,窝( lair的名词复数 );(人的)藏身处 | |
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4 thump | |
v.重击,砰然地响;n.重击,重击声 | |
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5 crumbled | |
(把…)弄碎, (使)碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 ); 衰落; 坍塌; 损坏 | |
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6 metallic | |
adj.金属的;金属制的;含金属的;产金属的;像金属的 | |
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7 colossal | |
adj.异常的,庞大的 | |
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8 attentively | |
adv.聚精会神地;周到地;谛;凝神 | |
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9 remonstrance | |
n抗议,抱怨 | |
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10 rust | |
n.锈;v.生锈;(脑子)衰退 | |
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11 whine | |
v.哀号,号哭;n.哀鸣 | |
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12 hyena | |
n.土狼,鬣狗 | |
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13 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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14 syllable | |
n.音节;vt.分音节 | |
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15 trajectory | |
n.弹道,轨道 | |
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16 gluttonously | |
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17 herds | |
兽群( herd的名词复数 ); 牧群; 人群; 群众 | |
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18 barrage | |
n.火力网,弹幕 | |
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19 smacking | |
活泼的,发出响声的,精力充沛的 | |
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20 dribbling | |
n.(燃料或油从系统内)漏泄v.流口水( dribble的现在分词 );(使液体)滴下或作细流;运球,带球 | |
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21 anticipation | |
n.预期,预料,期望 | |
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22 sodden | |
adj.浑身湿透的;v.使浸透;使呆头呆脑 | |
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23 versatility | |
n.多才多艺,多样性,多功能 | |
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24 autocrat | |
n.独裁者;专横的人 | |
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25 mightier | |
adj. 强有力的,强大的,巨大的 adv. 很,极其 | |
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