During my sojourn1 on the Rio Negro letters and papers reached me only at rare intervals2. On one occasion I passed very nearly two months without seeing a newspaper. I remember, when at the end of that time one was put before me, I snatched it up eagerly, and began hastily scanning the columns, or column-headings rather, in search of startling items from abroad, and that after a couple of minutes I laid it down again to listen to someone talking in the room, and that I eventually left the place without reading the paper at all. I suppose I snatched it up at first mechanically, just as a cat, even when not hungry, pounces3 on a mouse it sees scuttling4 across its path. It was simply the survival of an old habit — a trick played by unconscious memory on the intellect, like the action of the person who has resided all his life in a hovel, and who, on entering a cathedral door or passing under a lofty archway, unwittingly stoops to avoid bumping his forehead against an imaginary lintel. I was conscious on quitting the room, where I had cast aside the unread newspaper, that the old interest in the affairs of the world at large had in a great measure forsaken5 me; yet the thought did not seem a degrading one, nor was I at all startled at this newly-discovered indifference6, though up till then I had always been profoundly interested in the moves on the great political chessboard of the world. How had I spent those fifty or sixty days, I asked myself, and from what enchanted7 cup had I drunk the oblivious8 draught9 which had wrought10 so great a change in me? The answer was that I had drunk from the cup of Nature, that my days had been spent with peace. It then also seemed to me that the passion for politics, the perpetual craving11 of the mind for some new thing, is after all only a feverish12 artificial feeling, a necessary accompaniment of the conditions we live in, perhaps, but from which one rapidly recovers when it can no longer be pandered13 to, just as a toper, when removed from temptation, recovers a healthy tone of body, and finds to his surprise that he is able to exist without the aid of stimulants14. It is easy enough to relapse from this free and pleasant condition; in the latter case the emancipated15 man goes back to the bottle, in the former to the perusal16 of leading articles and of the fiery17 utterances18 of those who make politics their trade. That I have never been guilty of backsliding I cannot boast; nevertheless the lesson Nature taught me in that lonely country was not wholly wasted, and while I was in that condition of mind I found it very agreeable. I was delighted to discover that the stimulus19 derived20 from many daily telegrams and much discussion of remote probabilities were not necessary to keep my mind from lethargy. Things about which I had hitherto cared little now occupied my thoughts and supplied me with pleasurable excitement. How fresh and how human it seemed to feel a keen interest in the village annals, the domestic life, the simple pleasures, cares, and struggles of the people I lived with! This is a feeling only to be experienced in any great degree by the soul that has ceased to vex21 itself with the ambitious schemes of Russia, the attitude of the Sublime22 Porte, and the meeting or breaking up of parliaments. When the Eastern Question had lost its ancient fascination23 for me I found a world large enough for my sympathies in the little community of men and women on the Rio Negro. Here for upwards24 of a century the colony has existed, cut off, as it were, by hundreds of desert leagues from all communion with fellow-christians, surrounded by a great wilderness25, waterless and overgrown with thorns, peopled only by pumas26, ostriches27, and wandering tribes of savage28 men. In this romantic isolation29 the colonists31 spend their whole lives, roaming in childhood over the wooded uplands; in after life with one cloud always on their otherwise sunlit horizon — the fear of the red man, and always ready to fly to arms and mount their horses when the cannon32 booms forth33 its loud alarm from the fort.
It must of necessity have been a case of war to the knife with these white aliens — war not only with the wild tribes that cherish an undying feud34 against the robbers of their inheritance, but also with Nature. For when man begins to cultivate the soil, to introduce domestic cattle, and to slay35 a larger number of wild animals than he requires for food — and civilised man must do all that to create the conditions he imagines necessary to his existence — from that moment does he place himself in antagonism36 with Nature, and has thereafter to suffer countless37 persecutions at her hands. After a century of residence in the valley the colonist30 has established his position so that he cannot be driven out. Twenty-five years ago it was still possible for a great cacique to gallop38 into the town, clattering39 his silver harness and flourishing his spear, to demand with loud threats of vengeance40 his unpaid41 annual tribute of cattle, knife-blades, indigo42, and cochineal. Now the red man’s spirit is broken; in numbers and in courage he is declining. during the last decade the desert places have been abundantly watered with his blood, and, before many years are over, the old vendetta43 will be forgotten, for he will have ceased to exist.
Nature, albeit44 now without his aid, still maintains the conflict, enlisting45 the elements, with bird, beast, and insect, against the hated white disturber, whose way of life is not in harmony with her way.
There are the animal foes46. Pumas infest47 the settlement. At all seasons a few of these sly but withal audacious robbers haunt the riverside; but in winter a great many lean and hungry individuals come down from the uplands to slay the sheep and horses, and it is extremely difficult to track them to their hiding-places in the thorny48 thickets49 overhanging the valley. I was told that not less than a hundred pumas were killed annually50 by the shepherds and herdsmen. The depredations52 of the locusts53 are on a much larger scale. In summer I frequently rode over miles of ground where they literally54 carpeted the earth with their numbers, rising in clouds before me, causing a sound as of a loud wind with their wings. It was always the same, I was told; every year they appeared at some point in the valley to destroy the crops and pasturage. Then there were birds of many species and in incalculable numbers. To an idle sportsman without a stake in the country it was paradise. At one spot I noticed all the wheat ruined, most of the stalks being stripped and broken, presenting a very curious appearance; I was surprised to hear from the owner of the desolate55 fields that in this instance the coots had been the culprits. Thousands of these birds came up from the river every night, and in spite of all he could do to frighten them away they had succeeded in wasting his corn.
On either side of the long straggling settlement spreads the uninhabited desert — uninhabitable, in fact, for it is waterless, with a sterile56 gravelly soil that only produces a thorny vegetation of dwarf57 trees. It serves, however, as a breeding-place for myriads58 of winged creatures; and never a season passes but it sends down its hungry legions of one kind or another into the valley. During my stay pigeons, ducks, and geese were the greatest foes of the farmer. When the sowing season commenced the pigeons (‘Columba maculosa’) came in myriads to devour59 the grain, which is here sown broadcast. Shooting and poisoning them was practised on some farms, while on others dogs were trained to hunt the birds from the ground; but notwithstanding all these measures, half the seed committed to the earth was devoured60. When the corn was fully61 ripe and ready to be harvested, then came the brown duck (‘Dafila spinacauda’) in millions to feast on the grain. Early in the winter the arrival of the migratory62 upland geese (‘Chloephaga magellanica’) was dreaded63. It is scarcely possible to keep them from the fields when the wheat is young or just beginning to sprout64; and I have frequently seen flocks of these birds quietly feeding under the very shadow of the fluttering scarecrows set up to frighten them. They do even greater injury to the pasture-lands, where they are often so numerous as to denude65 the earth of the tender young clover, thus depriving the sheep of their only food. On some estates mounted boys were kept scouring66 the plains, and driving up the flocks with loud shouts; but their labours were quite profitless; fresh armies of geese on their way north were continually pouring in, making a vast camping ground of the valley, till scarcely a blade of grass remained for the perishing cattle.
Viewed from a distance, in comfortable homes, this contest of man with the numberless destructive forces of Nature is always looked on as the great drawback in the free life of the settler — the drop of bitter in the cup which spoils its taste. It is a false notion, although it would no doubt be upheld as true by most of those who are actually engaged in the contest, and should know. This is strange, but not unaccountable. Our feelings become modified and changed altogether with regard to many things as we progress in life, and experience widens, but in most cases the old expressions are still used. We continue to call black black, because we were taught so, and have always called it black, although it may now seem purple or blue or some other colour. We learn a kind of emasculated language in the nursery, from schoolmasters, and books written indoors, and it has to serve us. It proves false, but its falsity is perhaps never clearly recognised; Nature emancipates67 us and the feeling changes, but there has been no conscious reasoning on the matter, and thought is vague. One hears a person relating the struggles and storms of his early or past life, and receiving without protest expressions of sympathy and pity from his listeners; but he knows in his heart, albeit his brain may be and generally is in a mist, that these were the very things that exhilarated him, that if he had missed them his life would have been savourless. For the healthy man, or for the man whose virile68 instincts have not become atrophied69 in the artificial conditions we exist in, strife70 of some kind, if not physical then mental, is essential to happiness. It is a principle of Nature that only by means of strife can strength be maintained. No sooner is any species placed above it, or over-protected, than degeneration begins. But about the condition of the inferior animals, with regard to the comparative dulness or brightness of their lives, we do not concern ourselves. It is pleasant to be able to believe that they are all in a sense happy, although hard to believe that they are happy in the same degree. The sloth71, for instance, that most over-protected mammalian, fast asleep as he hugs his branch, and the wild cat that has to save himself, and must for ever and always keep all his faculties72 keen and brightly polished. With regard to man, who has the power of self-analysis and of seeing in his own mind all minds, the case is very different, and it does concern us to know the truth. A great deal — very many pages, chapters, and even books — might be written on this subject, but to write them is happily unnecessary, since everyone can easily find out the truth from his own experience. This will tell him which satisfied him most in the end — the rough days or the smooth in his life; and which was most highly valued — the good he struggled for or that which came to him in some other way. Even as a child, or as a small boy, assuming that his early years were passed in fairly natural conditions, the knocks and bruises73 and scratches and stings of infuriated humble74-bees he suffered served only to excite a spirit that had something of conscious power and gladness in it; and in this the child was father to the man. But the subject which specially75 concerns me just now is the settler’s life in some new and rough district; and as it appears that the greatest, the most real, and in many cases the only pleasures of such an existence are habitually76 spoken of as pains, the subject is one on which I may be pardoned for dwelling77 at some length.
If Mill’s doctrine78 be true, that all our happiness results from delusion79, that to one capable of seeing things as they are life must be an intolerable burden, then it may seem only a cruel kindness to whisper into the ear of the emigrant80 the warning: “That which thou goeth forth to seek thou shalt not find.”
It is not said, be it remembered, that he will not find happiness, which, like the rain and sunshine, although in more moderate measure, comes alike to all men; it is only said that the particular form of happiness to which he looks forward will never be his. But one need not fear to whisper the warning, nor even to shout it from the house-tops, for, to begin with, he will not believe nor listen to it. His mind is fixed81 on the three glorious prizes that lure82 him away — Adventure, Distinction, Gold. These bright and shining apples are perhaps just as common at home as abroad, and as easily gathered; but the young enthusiast83, surveying coasts five or ten thousand miles away through his mental telescope, sees them apparently84 hanging on very much lower branches, and imagines that to pluck them he has only to transport himself beyond the ocean. To drop this metaphor85, adventure in that distant place will be as common as the air he breathes, giving him much invigorating pleasure by the way, while he advances to possess himself of other more satisfying things. With the nimble brains, brave spirit, and willing hands characteristic of the inhabitants of the British Islands, he will assuredly be able to achieve distinction — that pretty bit of ribbon which most men are willing enough to wear.
This, however, is only a matter of secondary importance; the chief prize will always be the yellow metal. Knowing how much can be done with it at home where it is held in great esteem86, he will take care to provide himself with an abundant supply against his return. The precise way in which it is to be acquired he will not trouble himself about until he reaches his destination. It will perhaps flow in upon him through business channels; in most cases it will be thought more agreeable to pick it up in its native state during his walks abroad in the forest. The simple-minded aborigines, always ready to humour an eccentric taste, will assist him in collecting it; and, finally, for a small consideration in the form of coloured beads87 and pocket-mirrors, convey it in large sacks and hampers88 to the place of embarkation89. It is not meant that the immigrant in all cases paints his particular delusion in colours bright as these; let him shade the picture until it corresponds in tone with his individual creation — a dream and a delusion it will nevertheless remain. Not in these things which will never be his, nor in still cherishing the dream, will he find his pleasure, but in something very different.
I speak not of that large percentage of immigrants who are doomed90 to find no pleasure at all, and no good. To the youth of ardent91 generous temperament92, arrived in some far-off city where all men are free and equal, and the starched93 conventionalities of the Old World are unknown, it is perhaps the hardest thing to believe that when he slips down not a hand will be put forth to raise him; that when he pronounces these common words, “I have come to the end of my tether,” instantly all the smiling faces surrounding him will vanish as if by magic; that the few sovereigns remaining in his pocket at any time are as a chain, shortened each day by a link, holding him back from some terrible destiny . . . . Let us delay no longer in this moral place of skulls94, but follow that wise and sturdy youth who, wrapping his cloak about his face, passes unharmed through the poisonous atmosphere of the landing-place, and hurries a thousand miles away, while ever
Before him, like a blood-red flag,
flutters and shines the dream that lures95 him on. And now at his journey’s end comes reality to lay rude hands on him with rough shaking. Meanwhile, before he has quite recovered from the shock, that red flag on which his dreamy eyes have been so long fixed stays not, but travels on and on to disappear at last like a sunset cloud in the distant horizon. He does not miss it greatly after all. The actual is much in his thoughts. When a man is buffeting96 the waves he does not curiously97 examine the landscape before him and complain that there are no bright flowers on the trees. New experience takes the place of vanished dreams, which, like water-lilies, blossom only on stagnant98 pools. Here are none of the innumerable appliances to secure comfort he has been used to from infancy99, regarding them almost as spontaneous productions of the earth; no hand to perform a hundred necessary offices, so that this dainty gentleman is obliged to blacken his own boots, tame and harness to the plough his own bullocks or horses, kill and cook his own mutton. Nothing is here, in fact, but harsh Nature reluctant to be subdued100; while he, to subdue101 her and make his own conditions, has only a pair of soft weak hands.
To one fresh from the softness and smoothness of civilisation102, unaccustomed to manual labour, how hard then is the lot of the settler! Behind him physical comfort and beautiful dreams; before him the prospect103 of long years of unremitting toil104, every day of which will unfit him more and more for a return to the gentle life of the past; while, for only result, he will have food enough to satisfy hunger, and a rude shelter from extremes of heat and cold, from torrents105 of winter rain and blinding clouds of summer dust. Yet is he happy. For the vanished substantial comforts and airy splendours there is a compensation gilding106 his rough existence with a better brightness than that of any hope of future prosperity which may yet linger in his mind. It is the feeling the settler experiences from the moment of his induction107 into the desert that he is engaged in a conflict, and there is no feeling comparable with it to put a man on his mettle108 and inspire him with a healthy and enduring interest in life. To this feeling is added the charm of novelty caused by that endless procession of surprises which Nature prepares for the pioneer — an experience unknown to the rural life of countries that have long been under cultivation109. The greatest drawbacks and difficulties encountered have this charm strongest in them, and are robbed by it of half their power to discourage the mind.
The young enthusiast, hurrying about London to speak his farewells and look after his outfit110, will perhaps laugh at this, for his delusion is still dear to him. But I am not discouraging him; I am, on the contrary, telling him of a rill of pure water out there where he is going, where, for many years to come, he will refresh himself every day, and learn to feel (if not to think and to say) that it is the sweetest rill in existence.
It is rough living with unsubdued, or only partially111 subdued, Nature, but there is a wonderful fascination in it. The patient, leaden-footed, but always obedient drudge112, who goes forth uncomplainingly, albeit often with a sullen113 face, about her work, day after day, year after year; who never rebels, never murmurs114 against her bad task-master Man, although sometimes the strength fails her so that she cannot complete the appointed task — this is Nature at home in England. How strange to see this stolid115, immutable116 creature transformed beyond the seas into a flighty, capricious thing, that will not be wholly ruled by you, a beautiful wayward Undine, delighting you with her originality117, and most lovable when she teases most; a being of extremes, always either in laughter or tears, a tyrant118 and a slave alternately; today shattering to pieces the work of yesterday; now cheerfully doing more than is required of her; anon the frantic119 vixen that buries her malignant120 teeth into the hand that strikes or caresses121 her. All these rapid incomprehensible changes, even when most vexing122 and destructive to your plans, interest your mind, and call up a hundred latent energies it is a joy to discover. But you have not yet sounded all her depths; nor can you imagine, seeing her frequent gay smiles, to what length her fierce resentment123 may carry her. sometimes, as if roused to sudden frenzy124 at the indignities125 you are subjecting her to — hacking126 at her trees, turning up her cushioned soil, and trampling127 down her grass and flowers — she arrays herself in her blackest, most terrible aspect, and like a beautiful woman who in her fury has no regard for her beauty, she plucks up her noblest trees by the roots, and scooping128 up the very soil from the earth, whirls it aloft to give a more horrible gloom to the heavens. And darkness not being terrifying enough, she kindles129 up the mighty130 chaos131 she has created into a blaze of intolerable light, while the solid world is shaken to its foundations with her wrathful thunders. When destruction seems about to fall on man and all his works, when you are prostrate133 and ready to perish with excessive fear, lo, the mood changes, the furious passion has spent itself, and there is no trace left of it when you look up only to encounter her peaceful reassuring134 smile. These sublime moods are, however, infrequent and soon forgotten; man learns to despise the threats of a cataclysm135 that never comes, and goes forth once more to level the ancient trees, to invert136 the soil, and pasture his herds51 on her grasses and flowers. He will subdue the wild thing at last, but not yet; many years will she struggle to retain her ancient sweet supremacy137; he cannot alter all at once the old order to which she clings tenaciously138, as the red man to his savage life. Her attempt to frighten him away has failed. He laughs at her mask of terrors — he knows that it is only a mask; and it suffocates139 her and cannot be long endured. She will cast it aside and fight him another way. She will stoop to his yoke140 and be docile141 only to betray and defeat him at the last. A thousand strange tricks and surprises will she invent to molest142 him. In a hundred forms she will buzz in his ears and prick143 his flesh with stings; she will sicken him with the perfume of flowers, and poison him with sweet honey; and when he lies down to rest, she will startle him with the sudden apparition144 of a pair of lidless eyes and a flickering145 forked tongue. He scatters146 the seed, and when he looks for the green heads to appear, the earth opens, and lo, an army of long-faced, yellow grasshoppers147 come forth! She, too, walking invisible at his side, had scattered148 her miraculous149 seed along with his. He will not be beaten by her: he slays150 her striped and spotted151 creatures; he dries up her marshes152; he consumes her forests and prairies with fire, and her wild things perish in myriads; he covers her plains with herds of cattle, and waving fields of corn, and orchards153 of fruit-bearing trees. She hides her bitter wrath132 in her heart, secretly she goes out at dawn of day and blows her trumpet154 on the hills, summoning her innumerable children to her aid. She is hard-pressed and cries to her children that love her to come and deliver her. Nor are they slow to hear. From north and south, from east and west, they come in armies of creeping things and in clouds that darken the air. Mice and crickets swarm155 in the fields; a thousand insolent156 birds pull his scarecrows to pieces, and carry off the straw stuffing to build their nests; every green thing is devoured; the trees, stripped of their bark, stand like great white skeletons in the bare desolate fields, cracked and scorched157 by the pitiless sun. When he is in despair deliverance comes; famine falls on the mighty host of his enemies; they devour each other and perish utterly158. Still he lives to lament159 his loss; to strive still, unsubdued and resolute160. She, too, laments161 her lost children, which now, being dead, serve only to fertilise the soil and give fresh strength to her implacable enemy. And she, too, is unsubdued; she dries her tears and laughs again; she has found out a new weapon it will take him long to wrest162 from her hands. Out of many little humble plants she fashions the mighty noxious163 weeds; they spring up in his footsteps, following him everywhere, and possess his fields like parasites164, sucking up their moisture and killing165 their fertility. Everywhere, as if by a miracle, is spread the mantle166 of rich, green, noisome167 leaves, and the corn is smothered168 in beautiful flowers that yield only bitter seed and poison fruit. He may cut them down in the morning, in the night time they will grow again. With her beloved weeds she will wear out his spirit and break his heart; she will sit still at a distance and laugh while he grows weary of the hopeless struggle; and, at last, when he is ready to faint, she will go forth once more and blow her trumpet on the hills and call her innumerable children to come and fall on and destroy him utterly.
This is no mere169 fancy portrait, for Nature herself sat for it in the desert, and it is painted in true colours. Such is the contest the settler embarks170 in — so various in its fortunes, so full of great and sudden vicissitudes171, calling for so much vigilance and strategy on his part. If the dreams he sets out with are never realised, he is no worse off in this respect than others. To one, born and bred on the plains, the distant mountain range is ever a region of enchantment172; when he reaches it the glory is no more; the opalescent173 tints174 and blue ethereal shadows of noon, the violet hues175 of the sunset have vanished. There is nothing after all but a rude confusion of piled rocks; but although this is not what he expected, he ends by preferring the mountain’s roughness to the monotony of the plain. The man who finishes his course by a fall from his horse, or is swept away and drowned when fording a swollen176 stream, has, in most cases, spent a happier life than he who dies of apoplexy in a counting-house or dining-room; or who, finding that end which seemed so infinitely177 beautiful to Leigh Hunt (which to me seems so unutterably hateful), drops his white face on the open book before him. Certainly he has been less world-weary, and has never been heard to whine178 and snivel about the vanity of all things.
1 sojourn | |
v./n.旅居,寄居;逗留 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 intervals | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 pounces | |
v.突然袭击( pounce的第三人称单数 );猛扑;一眼看出;抓住机会(进行抨击) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 scuttling | |
n.船底穿孔,打开通海阀(沉船用)v.使船沉没( scuttle的现在分词 );快跑,急走 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 Forsaken | |
adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 indifference | |
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 enchanted | |
adj. 被施魔法的,陶醉的,入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 oblivious | |
adj.易忘的,遗忘的,忘却的,健忘的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 draught | |
n.拉,牵引,拖;一网(饮,吸,阵);顿服药量,通风;v.起草,设计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 wrought | |
v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 craving | |
n.渴望,热望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 pandered | |
v.迎合(他人的低级趣味或淫欲)( pander的过去式和过去分词 );纵容某人;迁就某事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 stimulants | |
n.兴奋剂( stimulant的名词复数 );含兴奋剂的饮料;刺激物;激励物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 emancipated | |
adj.被解放的,不受约束的v.解放某人(尤指摆脱政治、法律或社会的束缚)( emancipate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 perusal | |
n.细读,熟读;目测 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 utterances | |
n.发声( utterance的名词复数 );说话方式;语调;言论 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 stimulus | |
n.刺激,刺激物,促进因素,引起兴奋的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 derived | |
vi.起源;由来;衍生;导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 );(从…中)得到获得;源于;(从…中)提取 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 vex | |
vt.使烦恼,使苦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 sublime | |
adj.崇高的,伟大的;极度的,不顾后果的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 fascination | |
n.令人着迷的事物,魅力,迷恋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 upwards | |
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 wilderness | |
n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等,荒漠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 pumas | |
n.美洲狮( puma的名词复数 );彪马;于1948年成立于德国荷索金劳勒(Herzogenaurach)的国际运动品牌;创始人:鲁道夫及达斯勒。 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 ostriches | |
n.鸵鸟( ostrich的名词复数 );逃避现实的人,不愿正视现实者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 isolation | |
n.隔离,孤立,分解,分离 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 colonist | |
n.殖民者,移民 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 colonists | |
n.殖民地开拓者,移民,殖民地居民( colonist的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 cannon | |
n.大炮,火炮;飞机上的机关炮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 feud | |
n.长期不和;世仇;v.长期争斗;世代结仇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 slay | |
v.杀死,宰杀,杀戮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 antagonism | |
n.对抗,敌对,对立 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 countless | |
adj.无数的,多得不计其数的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 gallop | |
v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔;飞速发展 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 clattering | |
发出咔哒声(clatter的现在分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 vengeance | |
n.报复,报仇,复仇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 unpaid | |
adj.未付款的,无报酬的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 indigo | |
n.靛青,靛蓝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 vendetta | |
n.世仇,宿怨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 albeit | |
conj.即使;纵使;虽然 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 enlisting | |
v.(使)入伍, (使)参军( enlist的现在分词 );获得(帮助或支持) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 foes | |
敌人,仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 infest | |
v.大批出没于;侵扰;寄生于 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 thorny | |
adj.多刺的,棘手的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 thickets | |
n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 );丛状物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 annually | |
adv.一年一次,每年 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 herds | |
兽群( herd的名词复数 ); 牧群; 人群; 群众 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 depredations | |
n.劫掠,毁坏( depredation的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 locusts | |
n.蝗虫( locust的名词复数 );贪吃的人;破坏者;槐树 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 sterile | |
adj.不毛的,不孕的,无菌的,枯燥的,贫瘠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 dwarf | |
n.矮子,侏儒,矮小的动植物;vt.使…矮小 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 myriads | |
n.无数,极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 devour | |
v.吞没;贪婪地注视或谛听,贪读;使着迷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 devoured | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 migratory | |
n.候鸟,迁移 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 dreaded | |
adj.令人畏惧的;害怕的v.害怕,恐惧,担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 sprout | |
n.芽,萌芽;vt.使发芽,摘去芽;vi.长芽,抽条 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 denude | |
v.剥夺;使赤裸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 scouring | |
擦[洗]净,冲刷,洗涤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 emancipates | |
vt.解放(emancipate的第三人称单数形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 virile | |
adj.男性的;有男性生殖力的;有男子气概的;强有力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 atrophied | |
adj.萎缩的,衰退的v.(使)萎缩,(使)虚脱,(使)衰退( atrophy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 strife | |
n.争吵,冲突,倾轧,竞争 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 sloth | |
n.[动]树懒;懒惰,懒散 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 faculties | |
n.能力( faculty的名词复数 );全体教职员;技巧;院 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 bruises | |
n.瘀伤,伤痕,擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 specially | |
adv.特定地;特殊地;明确地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 habitually | |
ad.习惯地,通常地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 dwelling | |
n.住宅,住所,寓所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 doctrine | |
n.教义;主义;学说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 delusion | |
n.谬见,欺骗,幻觉,迷惑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 emigrant | |
adj.移居的,移民的;n.移居外国的人,移民 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 lure | |
n.吸引人的东西,诱惑物;vt.引诱,吸引 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 enthusiast | |
n.热心人,热衷者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 metaphor | |
n.隐喻,暗喻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 esteem | |
n.尊敬,尊重;vt.尊重,敬重;把…看作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 beads | |
n.(空心)小珠子( bead的名词复数 );水珠;珠子项链 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 hampers | |
妨碍,束缚,限制( hamper的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 embarkation | |
n. 乘船, 搭机, 开船 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 doomed | |
命定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 temperament | |
n.气质,性格,性情 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 starched | |
adj.浆硬的,硬挺的,拘泥刻板的v.把(衣服、床单等)浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 skulls | |
颅骨( skull的名词复数 ); 脑袋; 脑子; 脑瓜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 lures | |
吸引力,魅力(lure的复数形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 buffeting | |
振动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 stagnant | |
adj.不流动的,停滞的,不景气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 infancy | |
n.婴儿期;幼年期;初期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 subdued | |
adj. 屈服的,柔和的,减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 subdue | |
vt.制服,使顺从,征服;抑制,克制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 civilisation | |
n.文明,文化,开化,教化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 prospect | |
n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 toil | |
vi.辛劳工作,艰难地行动;n.苦工,难事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 torrents | |
n.倾注;奔流( torrent的名词复数 );急流;爆发;连续不断 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 gilding | |
n.贴金箔,镀金 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 induction | |
n.感应,感应现象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 mettle | |
n.勇气,精神 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 cultivation | |
n.耕作,培养,栽培(法),养成 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 outfit | |
n.(为特殊用途的)全套装备,全套服装 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 partially | |
adv.部分地,从某些方面讲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 drudge | |
n.劳碌的人;v.做苦工,操劳 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 sullen | |
adj.愠怒的,闷闷不乐的,(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 murmurs | |
n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 );低语声;怨言;嘀咕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 stolid | |
adj.无动于衷的,感情麻木的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 immutable | |
adj.不可改变的,永恒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 originality | |
n.创造力,独创性;新颖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 tyrant | |
n.暴君,专制的君主,残暴的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 frantic | |
adj.狂乱的,错乱的,激昂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 malignant | |
adj.恶性的,致命的;恶意的,恶毒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 caresses | |
爱抚,抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 vexing | |
adj.使人烦恼的,使人恼火的v.使烦恼( vex的现在分词 );使苦恼;使生气;详细讨论 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 resentment | |
n.怨愤,忿恨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 frenzy | |
n.疯狂,狂热,极度的激动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 indignities | |
n.侮辱,轻蔑( indignity的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 hacking | |
n.非法访问计算机系统和数据库的活动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 trampling | |
踩( trample的现在分词 ); 践踏; 无视; 侵犯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 scooping | |
n.捞球v.抢先报道( scoop的现在分词 );(敏捷地)抱起;抢先获得;用铲[勺]等挖(洞等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 kindles | |
(使某物)燃烧,着火( kindle的第三人称单数 ); 激起(感情等); 发亮,放光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 chaos | |
n.混乱,无秩序 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 prostrate | |
v.拜倒,平卧,衰竭;adj.拜倒的,平卧的,衰竭的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 reassuring | |
a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的,使人放心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 cataclysm | |
n.洪水,剧变,大灾难 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 invert | |
vt.使反转,使颠倒,使转化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 supremacy | |
n.至上;至高权力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 tenaciously | |
坚持地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 suffocates | |
(使某人)窒息而死( suffocate的第三人称单数 ); (将某人)闷死; 让人感觉闷热; 憋气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 yoke | |
n.轭;支配;v.给...上轭,连接,使成配偶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 docile | |
adj.驯服的,易控制的,容易教的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 molest | |
vt.骚扰,干扰,调戏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 prick | |
v.刺伤,刺痛,刺孔;n.刺伤,刺痛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 apparition | |
n.幽灵,神奇的现象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 flickering | |
adj.闪烁的,摇曳的,一闪一闪的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 scatters | |
v.(使)散开, (使)分散,驱散( scatter的第三人称单数 );撒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 grasshoppers | |
n.蚱蜢( grasshopper的名词复数 );蝗虫;蚂蚱;(孩子)矮小的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 miraculous | |
adj.像奇迹一样的,不可思议的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 slays | |
杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 spotted | |
adj.有斑点的,斑纹的,弄污了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 marshes | |
n.沼泽,湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 orchards | |
(通常指围起来的)果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 trumpet | |
n.喇叭,喇叭声;v.吹喇叭,吹嘘 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 swarm | |
n.(昆虫)等一大群;vi.成群飞舞;蜂拥而入 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 insolent | |
adj.傲慢的,无理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 scorched | |
烧焦,烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 ); 使(植物)枯萎,把…晒枯; 高速行驶; 枯焦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 lament | |
n.悲叹,悔恨,恸哭;v.哀悼,悔恨,悲叹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 resolute | |
adj.坚决的,果敢的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 laments | |
n.悲恸,哀歌,挽歌( lament的名词复数 )v.(为…)哀悼,痛哭,悲伤( lament的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 wrest | |
n.扭,拧,猛夺;v.夺取,猛扭,歪曲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 noxious | |
adj.有害的,有毒的;使道德败坏的,讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 parasites | |
寄生物( parasite的名词复数 ); 靠他人为生的人; 诸虫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 killing | |
n.巨额利润;突然赚大钱,发大财 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 mantle | |
n.斗篷,覆罩之物,罩子;v.罩住,覆盖,脸红 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 noisome | |
adj.有害的,可厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 smothered | |
(使)窒息, (使)透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 ); 覆盖; 忍住; 抑制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 embarks | |
乘船( embark的第三人称单数 ); 装载; 从事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 vicissitudes | |
n.变迁,世事变化;变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 );盛衰兴废 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 enchantment | |
n.迷惑,妖术,魅力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 opalescent | |
adj.乳色的,乳白的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 tints | |
色彩( tint的名词复数 ); 带白的颜色; (淡色)染发剂; 痕迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 hues | |
色彩( hue的名词复数 ); 色调; 信仰; 观点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 swollen | |
adj.肿大的,水涨的;v.使变大,肿胀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 infinitely | |
adv.无限地,无穷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 whine | |
v.哀号,号哭;n.哀鸣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |