'I never saw a dog with a highfalutin' name that ever was worth a rap,' he said, as he concluded his task and shoved her aside. 'They just fade away and die under the responsibility. Did ye ever see one go wrong with a sensible name like Cassiar, Siwash, or Husky? No, sir! Take a look at Shookum here, he's—' Snap! The lean brute3 flashed up, the white teeth just missing Mason's throat.
'Ye will, will ye?' A shrewd clout6 behind the ear with the butt7 of the dog whip stretched the animal in the snow, quivering softly, a yellow slaver dripping from its fangs8.
'As I was saying, just look at Shookum here—he's got the spirit. Bet ye he eats Carmen before the week's out.' 'I'll bank another proposition against that,' replied Malemute Kid, reversing the frozen bread placed before the fire to thaw9. 'We'll eat Shookum before the trip is over. What d'ye say, Ruth?' The Indian woman settled the coffee with a piece of ice, glanced from Malemute Kid to her husband, then at the dogs, but vouchsafed10 no reply. It was such a palpable truism that none was necessary. Two hundred miles of unbroken trail in prospect11, with a scant12 six days' grub for themselves and none for the dogs, could admit no other alternative. The two men and the woman grouped about the fire and began their meager13 meal. The dogs lay in their harnesses for it was a midday halt, and watched each mouthful enviously14.
'No more lunches after today,' said Malemute Kid. 'And we've got to keep a close eye on the dogs—they're getting vicious. They'd just as soon pull a fellow down as not, if they get a chance.' 'And I was president of an Epworth once, and taught in the Sunday school.' Having irrelevantly15 delivered himself of this, Mason fell into a dreamy contemplation of his steaming moccasins, but was aroused by Ruth filling his cup.
'Thank God, we've got slathers of tea! I've seen it growing, down in Tennessee. What wouldn't I give for a hot corn pone16 just now! Never mind, Ruth; you won't starve much longer, nor wear moccasins either.' The woman threw off her gloom at this, and in her eyes welled up a great love for her white lord—the first white man she had ever seen—the first man whom she had known to treat a woman as something better than a mere17 animal or beast of burden.
'Yes, Ruth,' continued her husband, having recourse to the macaronic jargon18 in which it was alone possible for them to understand each other; 'wait till we clean up and pull for the Outside. We'll take the White Man's canoe and go to the Salt Water. Yes, bad water, rough water—great mountains dance up and down all the time. And so big, so far, so far away—you travel ten sleep, twenty sleep, forty sleep'—he graphically19 enumerated20 the days on his fingers—'all the time water, bad water. Then you come to great village, plenty people, just the same mosquitoes next summer. Wigwams oh, so high—ten, twenty pines.
'Hi-yu skookum!' He paused impotently, cast an appealing glance at Malemute Kid, then laboriously21 placed the twenty pines, end on end, by sign language. Malemute Kid smiled with cheery cynicism; but Ruth's eyes were wide with wonder, and with pleasure; for she half believed he was joking, and such condescension22 pleased her poor woman's heart.
'And then you step into a—a box, and pouf! up you go.' He tossed his empty cup in the air by way of illustration and, as he deftly23 caught it, cried: 'And biff! down you come. Oh, great medicine men! You go Fort Yukon. I go Arctic City—twenty-five sleep—big string, all the time—I catch him string—I say, "Hello, Ruth! How are ye?"—and you say, "Is that my good husband?"—and I say, "Yes"—and you say, "No can bake good bread, no more soda24"—then I say, "Look in cache, under flour; good-by." You look and catch plenty soda. All the time you Fort Yukon, me Arctic City. Hi-yu medicine man!' Ruth smiled so ingenuously25 at the fairy story that both men burst into laughter. A row among the dogs cut short the wonders of the Outside, and by the time the snarling26 combatants were separated, she had lashed5 the sleds and all was ready for the trail.—'Mush! Baldy! Hi! Mush on!' Mason worked his whip smartly and, as the dogs whined27 low in the traces, broke out the sled with the gee28 pole. Ruth followed with the second team, leaving Malemute Kid, who had helped her start, to bring up the rear. Strong man, brute that he was, capable of felling an ox at a blow, he could not bear to beat the poor animals, but humored them as a dog driver rarely does—nay, almost wept with them in their misery29.
'Come, mush on there, you poor sore-footed brutes30!' he murmured, after several ineffectual attempts to start the load. But his patience was at last rewarded, and though whimpering with pain, they hastened to join their fellows.
And of all deadening labors32, that of the Northland trail is the worst. Happy is the man who can weather a day's travel at the price of silence, and that on a beaten track. And of all heartbreaking labors, that of breaking trail is the worst. At every step the great webbed shoe sinks till the snow is level with the knee. Then up, straight up, the deviation33 of a fraction of an inch being a certain precursor34 of disaster, the snowshoe must be lifted till the surface is cleared; then forward, down, and the other foot is raised perpendicularly35 for the matter of half a yard. He who tries this for the first time, if haply he avoids bringing his shoes in dangerous propinquity and measures not his length on the treacherous36 footing, will give up exhausted37 at the end of a hundred yards; he who can keep out of the way of the dogs for a whole day may well crawl into his sleeping bag with a clear conscience and a pride which passeth all understanding; and he who travels twenty sleeps on the Long Trail is a man whom the gods may envy.
The afternoon wore on, and with the awe38, born of the White Silence, the voiceless travelers bent39 to their work. Nature has many tricks wherewith she convinces man of his finity—the ceaseless flow of the tides, the fury of the storm, the shock of the earthquake, the long roll of heaven's artillery—but the most tremendous, the most stupefying of all, is the passive phase of the White Silence. All movement ceases, the sky clears, the heavens are as brass40; the slightest whisper seems sacrilege, and man becomes timid, affrighted at the sound of his own voice. Sole speck41 of life journeying across the ghostly wastes of a dead world, he trembles at his audacity42, realizes that his is a maggot's life, nothing more.
And the fear of death, of God, of the universe, comes over him—the hope of the Resurrection and the Life, the yearning44 for immortality45, the vain striving of the imprisoned46 essence—it is then, if ever, man walks alone with God.
So wore the day away. The river took a great bend, and Mason headed his team for the cutoff across the narrow neck of land. But the dogs balked47 at the high bank. Again and again, though Ruth and Malemute Kid were shoving on the sled, they slipped back. Then came the concerted effort. The miserable48 creatures, weak from hunger, exerted their last strength. Up—up—the sled poised49 on the top of the bank; but the leader swung the string of dogs behind him to the right, fouling50 Mason's snowshoes. The result was grievous.
Mason was whipped off his feet; one of the dogs fell in the traces; and the sled toppled back, dragging everything to the bottom again.
'Don't,—Mason,' entreated53 Malemute Kid; 'the poor devil's on its last legs. Wait and we'll put my team on.' Mason deliberately54 withheld55 the whip till the last word had fallen, then out flashed the long lash4, completely curling about the offending creature's body.
Carmen—for it was Carmen—cowered in the snow, cried piteously, then rolled over on her side.
Ruth glanced solicitously57 from man to man. But Malemute Kid restrained himself, though there was a world of reproach in his eyes, and, bending over the dog, cut the traces. No word was spoken. The teams were doublespanned and the difficulty overcome; the sleds were under way again, the dying dog dragging herself along in the rear. As long as an animal can travel, it is not shot, and this last chance is accorded it—the crawling into camp, if it can, in the hope of a moose being killed.
Already penitent58 for his angry action, but too stubborn to make amends59, Mason toiled60 on at the head of the cavalcade61, little dreaming that danger hovered62 in the air. The timber clustered thick in the sheltered bottom, and through this they threaded their way. Fifty feet or more from the trail towered a lofty pine. For generations it had stood there, and for generations destiny had had this one end in view—perhaps the same had been decreed of Mason.
He stooped to fasten the loosened thong63 of his moccasin. The sleds came to a halt, and the dogs lay down in the snow without a whimper. The stillness was weird64; not a breath rustled65 the frost-encrusted forest; the cold and silence of outer space had chilled the heart and smote66 the trembling lips of nature. A sigh pulsed through the air—they did not seem to actually hear it, but rather felt it, like the premonition of movement in a motionless void. Then the great tree, burdened with its weight of years and snow, played its last part in the tragedy of life. He heard the warning crash and attempted to spring up but, almost erect67, caught the blow squarely on the shoulder.
The sudden danger, the quick death—how often had Malemute Kid faced it! The pine needles were still quivering as he gave his commands and sprang into action. Nor did the Indian girl faint or raise her voice in idle wailing68, as might many of her white sisters. At his order, she threw her weight on the end of a quickly extemporized69 handspike, easing the pressure and listening to her husband's groans70, while Malemute Kid attacked the tree with his ax. The steel rang merrily as it bit into the frozen trunk, each stroke being accompanied by a forced, audible respiration71, the 'Huh!' 'Huh!' of the woodsman.
At last the Kid laid the pitiable thing that was once a man in the snow. But worse than his comrade's pain was the dumb anguish72 in the woman's face, the blended look of hopeful, hopeless query73. Little was said; those of the Northland are early taught the futility74 of words and the inestimable value of deeds. With the temperature at sixty-five below zero, a man cannot lie many minutes in the snow and live. So the sled lashings were cut, and the sufferer, rolled in furs, laid on a couch of boughs75. Before him roared a fire, built of the very wood which wrought76 the mishap77. Behind and partially78 over him was stretched the primitive79 fly—a piece of canvas, which caught the radiating heat and threw it back and down upon him—a trick which men may know who study physics at the fount.
And men who have shared their bed with death know when the call is sounded. Mason was terribly crushed. The most cursory81 examination revealed it.
His right arm, leg, and back were broken; his limbs were paralyzed from the hips82; and the likelihood of internal injuries was large. An occasional moan was his only sign of life.
No hope; nothing to be done. The pitiless night crept slowly by—Ruth's portion, the despairing stoicism of her race, and Malemute Kid adding new lines to his face of bronze.
In fact, Mason suffered least of all, for he spent his time in eastern Tennessee, in the Great Smoky Mountains, living over the scenes of his childhood. And most pathetic was the melody of his long-forgotten Southern vernacular83, as he raved84 of swimming holes and coon hunts and watermelon raids. It was as Greek to Ruth, but the Kid understood and felt—felt as only one can feel who has been shut out for years from all that civilization means.
Morning brought consciousness to the stricken man, and Malemute Kid bent closer to catch his whispers.
'You remember when we foregathered on the Tanana, four years come next ice run? I didn't care so much for her then. It was more like she was pretty, and there was a smack85 of excitement about it, I think. But d'ye know, I've come to think a heap of her. She's been a good wife to me, always at my shoulder in the pinch. And when it comes to trading, you know there isn't her equal. D'ye recollect86 the time she shot the Moosehorn Rapids to pull you and me off that rock, the bullets whipping the water like hailstones?—and the time of the famine at Nuklukyeto?—when she raced the ice run to bring the news?
'Yes, she's been a good wife to me, better'n that other one. Didn't know I'd been there?
'Never told you, eh? Well, I tried it once, down in the States. That's why I'm here. Been raised together, too. I came away to give her a chance for divorce. She got it.
'But that's got nothing to do with Ruth. I had thought of cleaning up and pulling for the Outside next year—her and I—but it's too late. Don't send her back to her people, Kid. It's beastly hard for a woman to go back. Think of it!—nearly four years on our bacon and beans and flour and dried fruit, and then to go back to her fish and caribou87. It's not good for her to have tried our ways, to come to know they're better'n her people's, and then return to them. Take care of her, Kid, why don't you—but no, you always fought shy of them—and you never told me why you came to this country. Be kind to her, and send her back to the States as soon as you can. But fix it so she can come back—liable to get homesick, you know.
'And the youngster—it's drawn88 us closer, Kid. I only hope it is a boy. Think of it!—flesh of my flesh, Kid. He mustn't stop in this country. And if it's a girl, why, she can't. Sell my furs; they'll fetch at least five thousand, and I've got as much more with the company. And handle my interests with yours. I think that bench claim will show up. See that he gets a good schooling89; and Kid, above all, don't let him come back. This country was not made for white men.
'I'm a gone man, Kid. Three or four sleeps at the best. You've got to go on. You must go on! Remember, it's my wife, it's my boy—O God! I hope it's a boy! You can't stay by me—and I charge you, a dying man, to pull on.'
'Give me three days,' pleaded Malemute Kid. 'You may change for the better; something may turn up.'
'No.'
'Just three days.'
'You must pull on.'
'Two days.'
'It's my wife and my boy, Kid. You would not ask it.'
'One day.'
'No, no! I charge—'
'Only one day. We can shave it through on the grub, and I might knock over a moose.'
'No—all right; one day, but not a minute more. And, Kid, don't—don't leave me to face it alone. Just a shot, one pull on the trigger. You understand. Think of it! Think of it! Flesh of my flesh, and I'll never live to see him!
'Send Ruth here. I want to say good-by and tell her that she must think of the boy and not wait till I'm dead. She might refuse to go with you if I didn't. Goodby, old man; good-by.
'Kid! I say—a—sink a hole above the pup, next to the slide. I panned out forty cents on my shovel90 there.
'And, Kid!' He stooped lower to catch the last faint words, the dying man's surrender of his pride. 'I'm sorry—for—you know—Carmen.' Leaving the girl crying softly over her man, Malemute Kid slipped into his parka and snowshoes, tucked his rifle under his arm, and crept away into the forest. He was no tyro91 in the stern sorrows of the Northland, but never had he faced so stiff a problem as this. In the abstract, it was a plain, mathematical proposition—three possible lives as against one doomed92 one. But now he hesitated. For five years, shoulder to shoulder, on the rivers and trails, in the camps and mines, facing death by field and flood and famine, had they knitted the bonds of their comradeship. So close was the tie that he had often been conscious of a vague jealousy93 of Ruth, from the first time she had come between. And now it must be severed94 by his own hand.
Though he prayed for a moose, just one moose, all game seemed to have deserted95 the land, and nightfall found the exhausted man crawling into camp, lighthanded, heavyhearted. An uproar96 from the dogs and shrill97 cries from Ruth hastened him.
Bursting into the camp, he saw the girl in the midst of the snarling pack, laying about her with an ax. The dogs had broken the iron rule of their masters and were rushing the grub.
He joined the issue with his rifle reversed, and the hoary98 game of natural selection was played out with all the ruthlessness of its primeval environment. Rifle and ax went up and down, hit or missed with monotonous99 regularity100; lithe101 bodies flashed, with wild eyes and dripping fangs; and man and beast fought for supremacy102 to the bitterest conclusion. Then the beaten brutes crept to the edge of the firelight, licking their wounds, voicing their misery to the stars.
The whole stock of dried salmon103 had been devoured104, and perhaps five pounds of flour remained to tide them over two hundred miles of wilderness105. Ruth returned to her husband, while Malemute Kid cut up the warm body of one of the dogs, the skull106 of which had been crushed by the ax. Every portion was carefully put away, save the hide and offal, which were cast to his fellows of the moment before.
Morning brought fresh trouble. The animals were turning on each other. Carmen, who still clung to her slender thread of life, was downed by the pack. The lash fell among them unheeded. They cringed and cried under the blows, but refused to scatter107 till the last wretched bit had disappeared—bones, hide, hair, everything.
Malemute Kid went about his work, listening to Mason, who was back in Tennessee, delivering tangled108 discourses109 and wild exhortations110 to his brethren of other days.
Taking advantage of neighboring pines, he worked rapidly, and Ruth watched him make a cache similar to those sometimes used by hunters to preserve their meat from the wolverines and dogs. One after the other, he bent the tops of two small pines toward each other and nearly to the ground, making them fast with thongs111 of moosehide. Then he beat the dogs into submission112 and harnessed them to two of the sleds, loading the same with everything but the furs which enveloped113 Mason. These he wrapped and lashed tightly about him, fastening either end of the robes to the bent pines. A single stroke of his hunting knife would release them and send the body high in the air.
Ruth had received her husband's last wishes and made no struggle. Poor girl, she had learned the lesson of obedience114 well. From a child, she had bowed, and seen all women bow, to the lords of creation, and it did not seem in the nature of things for woman to resist. The Kid permitted her one outburst of grief, as she kissed her husband—her own people had no such custom—then led her to the foremost sled and helped her into her snowshoes. Blindly, instinctively115, she took the gee pole and whip, and 'mushed' the dogs out on the trail. Then he returned to Mason, who had fallen into a coma116, and long after she was out of sight crouched117 by the fire, waiting, hoping, praying for his comrade to die.
It is not pleasant to be alone with painful thoughts in the White Silence. The silence of gloom is merciful, shrouding118 one as with protection and breathing a thousand intangible sympathies; but the bright White Silence, clear and cold, under steely skies, is pitiless.
An hour passed—two hours—but the man would not die. At high noon the sun, without raising its rim80 above the southern horizon, threw a suggestion of fire athwart the heavens, then quickly drew it back. Malemute Kid roused and dragged himself to his comrade's side. He cast one glance about him. The White Silence seemed to sneer119, and a great fear came upon him. There was a sharp report; Mason swung into his aerial sepulcher120, and Malemute Kid lashed the dogs into a wild gallop121 as he fled across the snow.
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1
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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chunk
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| n.厚片，大块，相当大的部分（数量） | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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clout
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| n.用手猛击；权力，影响力 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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fangs
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| n.（尤指狗和狼的）长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 )；（蛇的）毒牙；罐座 | |
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thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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meager
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| adj.缺乏的，不足的，瘦的 | |
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enviously
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| adv.满怀嫉妒地 | |
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irrelevantly
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| adv.不恰当地，不合适地；不相关地 | |
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pone
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| n.玉米饼 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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graphically
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| adv.通过图表；生动地，轮廓分明地 | |
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enumerated
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| v.列举，枚举，数( enumerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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ingenuously
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| adv.率直地，正直地 | |
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snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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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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brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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labors
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| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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deviation
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| n.背离，偏离；偏差，偏向；离题 | |
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precursor
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| n.先驱者；前辈；前任；预兆；先兆 | |
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perpendicularly
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| adv. 垂直地, 笔直地, 纵向地 | |
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treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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42
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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44
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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49
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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50
fouling
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| n.（水管、枪筒等中的）污垢v.使污秽( foul的现在分词 )；弄脏；击球出界；（通常用废物）弄脏 | |
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51
slash
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| vi.大幅度削减；vt.猛砍，尖锐抨击，大幅减少；n.猛砍，斜线，长切口，衣衩 | |
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52
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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53
entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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55
withheld
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| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
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56
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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57
solicitously
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| adv.热心地，热切地 | |
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58
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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59
amends
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| n. 赔偿 | |
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60
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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61
cavalcade
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| n.车队等的行列 | |
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62
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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63
thong
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| n.皮带；皮鞭；v.装皮带 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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65
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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68
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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69
extemporized
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| v.即兴创作，即席演奏( extemporize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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70
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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71
respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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73
query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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futility
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| n.无用 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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76
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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cursory
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| adj.粗略的；草率的；匆促的 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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vernacular
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| adj.地方的，用地方语写成的；n.白话；行话；本国语；动植物的俗名 | |
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raved
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| v.胡言乱语( rave的过去式和过去分词 )；愤怒地说；咆哮；痴心地说 | |
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85
smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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86
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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caribou
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| n.北美驯鹿 | |
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88
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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schooling
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| n.教育；正规学校教育 | |
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shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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tyro
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| n.初学者；生手 | |
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doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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97
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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98
hoary
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| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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100
regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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101
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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102
supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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103
salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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104
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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105
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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106
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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107
scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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108
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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109
discourses
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| 论文( discourse的名词复数 )； 演说； 讲道； 话语 | |
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110
exhortations
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| n.敦促( exhortation的名词复数 )；极力推荐；（正式的）演讲；（宗教仪式中的）劝诫 | |
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111
thongs
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| 的东西 | |
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112
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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113
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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114
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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115
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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116
coma
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| n.昏迷，昏迷状态 | |
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117
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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118
shrouding
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| n.覆盖v.隐瞒( shroud的现在分词 )；保密 | |
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119
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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120
sepulcher
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| n.坟墓 | |
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121
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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