Kenneth was the first to move. He jumped to the companionway, and pushed at the hinged doors leading on deck, but they did not move. Glued with the frost, they refused to open. He put his shoulder against them, and pushed with all his might. The expected happened—the doors opened suddenly, and Kenneth found himself sprawling4 on the floor of the cockpit. He skinned his shin on the brass-bound step of the companionway ladder, and his funny bone tingled5 from a blow it got on the deck. The boy tried to rise to his feet, but a sudden swing of the boat made him slip on the icy boards and fall swiftly down again. From his prone6 position, he looked around him. The light coming up through the open companionway gleamed yellow on the ice-coated, glistening7 boom, and the furled sail propped8 up in the crotch. As Ransom9’s eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he saw what it was that had startled them all. “His Nibs,” hauled up on the narrow strip of deck aft of the rudder post, had slipped when the “Gazelle” had made a sudden plunge10, and sliding on the icy rail had thumped11 into the cockpit. Perfectly12 safe, but ludicrously out of place, the little boat looked like a big St. Bernard in a lady’s lap.
“Look!” the prostrate13 captain called to his friends. “‘His Nibs’ was getting lonesome and was coming down into the cabin for the sake of sociability14.”
The other three crawled on deck, having learned caution through the skipper’s mishap15, and crouched16 in the wet, slippery cockpit while they looked around.
The gale17, still increasing rather than abating18, was raising tremendous seas. The “Gazelle” rolled, her rails under at times, and her bowsprit jabbed the white-capped waves.
“I am going forward to see if the anchors are O. K.” Kenneth spoke19 loudly enough, but the wind snatched the words from his mouth and the boys did not hear what he said.
Ransom managed to get on his feet, and, grasping the beading of the cabin, he pulled himself erect20. A quick lurch21 almost threw him overboard, but he reached up and grabbed the boom overhead just in time. Holding on to this with both arms, he slowly worked himself forward.
The other boys, crouching22 in the cockpit, wondered what he was up to. They watched his dim figure crawling painfully along, and once their hearts came into their throats as, his feet slipping from under him, he hung for an instant from the icy boom almost directly over the raging river. The light streaming from the cabin shone into their strained, anxious faces and blinded them so that they could hardly see the figure of “Ken3,” on whom they had learned to rely. At last he disappeared altogether behind the mast and was swallowed up in the blackness.
“Ken! Come back! Come back!” Arthur, who was still weak, could not stand the strain; he could not bear to think of what might happen to his friend.
The wind shrieked in derision—so, at least, it seemed to the anxious boy—the elements combined to drown his voice. The gale howled on; the rain froze as it fell, and the waves dashed at the boys like fierce dogs foaming23 at the mouth.
Frank, at last feeling that he must know what had become of Ransom, sprang up, and grasping the icy spar, crept forward. Many times he lost his foothold, but always managed somehow to catch himself in time. Slipping and sliding, fighting the gale, he reached the mast. The journey was one of only twenty feet, but the gale was so fierce and the exertion24 of keeping his footing so great that he arrived at the end of it out of breath and almost exhausted25. It was inky black, and only with difficulty could he distinguish the familiar objects on the forecastle—the bitts, and the two rigid26 anchor cables leading from it. Lying across them was Kenneth, gripping one, while the yacht’s bow rose and fell, dashing the spray clear over his prostrate figure.
“What’s the matter, Ken?” Frank shouted, so as to be heard above the wind. “Are you hurt? Brace27 up, old man!”
The other did not speak for a minute; then he answered in a strained voice: “Give me a hand, old chap, will you? I’ve hurt my foot—wrenched it, I guess; pains like blazes.”
That he was pretty badly hurt, Frank guessed by the way in which he drew in his breath as he shifted his position.
“Got a good hold there, Frank? Grab those halliards. It’s terrible slippery—Ouch! Easy, now.”
It was a difficult job that Frank had in hand. The ice-covered decks could not be depended on at all; if the boys began to slide, they would slip right off the sloping cabin roof into the water; the boat was jumping on the choppy seas like a bucking30 horse, and the wind blew with hurricane force. Kenneth could help himself hardly at all, and Frank struggled with him till the sweat stood out on his brow in great beads31. At last both got over the entangling32 anchor cables, and breathing hard, hugged the stick as if their lives depended on it, which came very near being the case.
“You—had—better—leave—me—here—old—chap,” panted Kenneth. “My—ankle—hurts—like—the—old—Harry. Can’t—travel—much.”
“What did you do to it?”
“Got—caught—under—cleat—on—the butt—of—the—bowsprit.”
“Gee! that’s tough!” sympathized Frank.
“Gave it a terrible wrench28. Regular monkey wrench.” It was a grim situation to joke about.
“Leave you here?” said Frank, coming back to Ken’s suggestion. “I guess not! What do you take me for, anyway? I know how to work it, all right. You hang on to the mast a minute.”
Releasing his grip on Ransom, Chauvet picked up the end of the peak halliard coiled at his feet, and with great difficulty straightened out its frozen turns, for he had but one free hand—he could not release his hold on the sailhoop that he grasped for an instant. Taking the stiff line, he passed it around his body and then around the boom. Holding on by his legs to the mast, he worked away at the frozen line until he had knotted the end to the main part—made a bowline. The loop was around his waist and the boom.
“Now, Ken, we’re all right—I have lashed34 myself to this spar, and my hands are free. I’ll yell to Clyde,” and suiting the action to the word he shouted aft.
Ransom hung on to the line about Frank’s waist, while Frank half held, half supported him. Slowly they moved along, stumbling, often swinging with the boat, till the rope cut into Chauvet’s body cruelly. It was exhausting work.
Soon Clyde came stumbling, slipping and fighting forward against the gale, and in a minute was helping35 Frank to support the gritty captain.
It was a thankful group that dropped into the warm, bright cabin—dripping wet and numbed36 with cold, out of breath, well-nigh exhausted, but thankful to the heart’s core.
Arthur cut the shoe from Ransom’s swelling37 ankle, and then bound it tightly with a cloth saturated38 with witch hazel.
“Chasing anchors on stormy nights seems to be fatal for me,” Kenneth remarked, as he lay on his bunk39 regarding his bandaged foot. “I’ll give you fellows a chance next time—I don’t want to be piggish about it.”
Presently the cabin light was turned down and all hands got into their berths41. Not a tongue moved, but brains were active; not an eyelid42 felt heavy, but the boys resolutely43 kept them closed. The storm raged on; gust44 succeeded gust, the rain beat down on the thin cabin roof with increasing fierceness. It was a trying night, and each of the four boys was glad enough to see the gray light come stealing in through the frosted port lights. They had all thought that they would never see daylight again, though each had kept his fears to himself.
The wind still roared and the rain poured down, but the yacht tossed and rolled less violently; her movements were slower and sluggish45, quite unlike those of the usually sprightly46, light “Gazelle.”
“Sea must have gone down,” commented Clyde, in a casual way, as he noted47 that the others were awake. “Queer, wind’s blowing great guns, too.”
Kenneth sat up suddenly and bumped his head on the deck beam above. This made him wince48, and he drew his game foot suddenly against the boat’s side. Kenneth made so wry49 a face that his friends could not help laughing outright—an honest laugh, in spite of the sympathy they felt.
“Both ends at once.” The captain tried to rub his head and his ankle at the same moment, and found it a good deal of a stretch.
“There is a new bar to be charted here.” His finger went gingerly round the bump on his forehead.
“Frank, go on deck, will you, and see if things are moderating. I’d like to get into some cove29 or another.”
Chauvet made his way to the ladder and shoved the doors with all his might; but it was only after repeated blows with a heavy rope fender that they opened.
“Great Scott!” he shouted. “Look here. Ice! Why, there’s no boat left—it’s all ice! Well, I’ll be switched—why, we’ll have to chop her out, or she’ll sink with the weight of it—she’s down by the head now.”
Fresh exclamations50 of amazement51 followed as each head appeared in turn from below. It was true. The yacht was literally52 covered with ice, from one to six inches thick at the bow, where the spray combined with the rain to add to the layers of white coating. The sluggish movement of the vessel53 was explained—the weight of the ice burdened her. Here was a pleasing condition of things.
The boys snatched a hasty breakfast, and taking hatchets54, hammers—anything with a sharp edge—they attacked the ice. Even Ransom insisted upon taking a hand. The boat was very beautiful in her glassy coating. The rigging, fringed with icicles, and the cold, gray light shining on the polished surface, made it look like a dull jewel. The boys, however, saw nothing of the beautiful side of it. There was a mighty55 job before them; a cold, hard, dangerous job, and they went at it as they had done with all the previous difficulties which they had encountered—with courage and energy.
Colder and colder it grew, until the thermometer registered five degrees below zero. The yacht still rolled and pitched so that the boys found it necessary to lash33 themselves to mast, spars and rigging while they chopped. The spray flew up and dashed into their faces and almost instantly froze; the sleeves of their coats became as hard and as stiff as iron pipes, and their hands stiffened56 so that the fingers could not hold the axe57 helves. Every few minutes one or the other would have to stop, go below and thaw58 out. They worked desperately59, but new layers of frost formed almost as fast as the boys could hack60 it off. But chop and shovel61 they must or sink in plain sight of the town, inaccessible62 as though the boat were miles from shore.
How they ever lived through the three days during which the storm continued, God, who saved them, alone knows. It seemed almost a miracle that so small a craft should have lived through what it did.
When at the end of the weary time the wind subsided63, the yacht rode over the choppy waves in much the same buoyant way as before—she was weather proof; but her crew was utterly64 exhausted; hands and faces were cut and bleeding from the fierce onslaught of the sleet-laden wind; fingers, toes and ears were frost-bitten, innumerable bruises—true badges of honor—covered their bodies, and the captain suffered intolerably from his injured ankle.
“Hours chopping ice off the ‘Gazelle’ to keep her from sinking under the weight of it,” quoted Kenneth from the entry in his log. “And this in the heart of the ‘Sunny South.’”
“I don’t believe there is any ‘Sunny South.’” Clyde was tired out, and his sentiments expressed his condition.
“Remember the old coon at Natchez?” said Frank. “He must have been a twin of Methuselah; he said he had never seen ice on the river so far south before, and he had lived on the Mississippi all his life.”
It was many, many hours before the “Gazelle” was free enough of her burden to allow the crew to rest; and not until three days of gale had spent its spite upon them could she be got under way and anchored in a sheltered spot.
After sending reassuring65 letters to anxious ones at home, the “Gazelle” sped southward, seeking for a sheltered spot to lie by and allow the ice which was sure to follow to pass by.
At the little town of St. Gabriels the “Gazelle” found a snug66 nest, where, for a time, the ice ceased from troubling, and she floated secure.
It was with a grateful heart that Kenneth rose on Sunday morning, February 19th, and from the safe anchorage saw the great cakes of ice go racing67 by on the swift current.
“We can’t hold a service aboard,” he said to Arthur, who appeared on deck about the same time. “But let’s dress ship for a thanksgiving offering.”
All four agreed with alacrity68, and for the next hour scarcely a word was spoken except as one fellow sung out, “Where is that swab?” or another, “Who’s got the bath-brick?” Hardly a day passed (except when the boat was in actual danger) that the “Gazelle” did not get a thorough cleaning—brasses shined, decks scrubbed, cabin scoured69, bedding aired, dishes well washed and even the dishcloth cleaned and spread to dry. But this was a special day, and the yacht was as sweet within as soap and water, elbow grease and determined70 wills could make her. The crowning of the work came when the “Gazelle” was decked in her colors; the flags spelling her name in the international code fluttering in the breeze, and above all Old Glory—surely a splendid emblem71 of what these youngsters gallantly72 typified, American perseverance73, pluck and enterprise. It was a proud crew that lined up on the bank to admire their achievement, and their hearts were filled with gratitude74 to Providence75 that they had been brought through so many dangers safely.
“Kin I hab one of dese yer flags?” Some one pulled at Kenneth’s sleeve, and he looked down into a small, black, kinky-hair framed face. It was a little pickaninny, scantily76 clad and shivering in the keen air.
“What do you want it for?”
Embarrassment77 showed on every shining feature of the little face.
“Foh—foh a crazy quilt,” she managed to say at last.
Ransom could not spare one of his flags, but he dug into a locker78 and pulled out a piece of red flannel79 (a token of his mother’s thoughtfulness) which pleased the black youngster almost as much. The visits of the darky population were frequent that day, and the many requests for “one of doze80 flags” suggested the thought that the first black youngster had spread the news that the ship’s company could be worked.
Two days later the ice had almost disappeared and the “Gazelle” left her snug berth40 for the last stretch of her journey to the Crescent City. The delay seemed to add to the yacht’s eagerness to be gone, for she sped on her way like a horse on its first gallop81 after a winter in the stable.
On, on she flew, drawing nearer to her goal, scarred from contact with ice, snags and sandbars, but still unhurt, triumphant82. Surely the sun was rewarding their persistence83; for he no longer hid his face from them, but shone out in all mellowness84 and geniality85. Their worries fled at his warm touch, and their hearts sang his praises.
The “Gazelle” seemed glad as she forged ahead, as if to say, “Hurrah! I have conquered, I have stood old Mississippi’s bumps and jars! All these are of the past, and now for Old Ocean!”
Light after light was passed and marked off on the list, and soon the last one shone out. It had no name, so as they lustily gave three cheers for the last of the little beacons86 which had so long been their guides and dubbed87 it “Omega,” the “Gazelle” sped on with only the smoke of the great cotton market as a guide. New Orleans was in sight.
The pillars of smoke—the smoke of the city of their dreams—led them on. They could hardly realize that that dim cloud, that dark streak88 in the distance was really the city which they had striven so hard to reach.
A feeling of great satisfaction came over them as the “Gazelle” responded to the tiller, which was thrown hard down, and headed into the wind. A few flaps of the sails in the evening breeze, the sudden splash of the anchor forward, followed by the swir of the cable as it ran through the chocks, and the creaking pulleys as the sails were lowered, was the music in honor of the “Gazelle’s” successful voyage from far away Michigan to New Orleans.
The trip of one thousand eight hundred miles had been full of incident and some satisfaction, purchased, however, at the price of severe toil89 and many hardships, with a decided90 preponderance of troubles over pleasures. Sickness had visited the crew at a time when their location made medical aid impossible; the most severe winter recorded, accompanied with the ice packs and low stages of water, made it seem many times as if all hands were indeed candidates for admission into the realms of “Davy Jones’s locker.” But all this was now of the past; for here was the “Gazelle” anchored in a snug cove in the outskirts91 of the Southern metropolis92 safe and sound, the captain and crew strong, well, happy, and in all ways improved by their struggles.
The sun was still two hours high when Kenneth and Frank rowed ashore93 in “His Nibs” and scrambled94 up the steep side of the high levee which protects the city from inundation96.
As they looked back on the “Gazelle” so peacefully riding at her anchorage, they felt like giving three lusty cheers for their floating home. Beyond the yacht and moored97 at the docks were two immense ocean-going steamships98, while a short distance up the river was a full-rigged ship with loosened canvas falling in graceful99 folds from the yards. The scene was a pleasing one, and the two boys drank it in with all their eyes; they loved the sea, and these monster boats had a peculiar100 charm for them. But the “clang, clang” of a bell suddenly awakened101 them from their reverie, and they started in all haste to get down town for the mail they knew must be waiting.
The anchorage was at Carrollton, one of the suburbs of New Orleans, so the boys had a splendid opportunity of seeing the city on their long trolley-car journey to the main Post Office. The batch102 of mail that was handed out to them gladdened their hearts, and it took considerable resolution to refrain from camping right out on the Post Office steps and reading their letters. They remembered, however, their promise to Arthur and Clyde to bring back with them the wherewithal to make a feast in honor of their safe arrival in the Crescent City.
“Gee! I’d like to know what’s in those letters.” Frank gazed at them longingly103 as they walked along. “Look at the fatness of that, will you?”
“I’ve got a fatness myself,” retorted Kenneth, holding a thick letter bearing several stamps. “We have just about time enough to buy some truck and get back. What do you say to some oysters104?”
“That goes,” was Frank’s hearty105 endorsement106.
Oysters were cheap, they found, so they bought a goodly supply, and for want of a better carrier put them in a stout107 paper bag.
The two boys started out bravely, with the bag of oysters between them, each carrying a bundle of papers and mail under their arms. They saw many things that interested them—quaint old buildings with balconies and twisted ironwork, and numbers of picturesque108, dark-skinned people wearing bright colors wherever it was possible.
Frank and Kenneth were so interested in watching what was going on about them—the people, the buildings, and all the hundred and one things that would interest a Northern boy in a Southern city—that they forgot all about the load of oysters till they noticed that the people who met and passed them were smiling broadly.
“Have I got a smudge on my nose, Frank?” asked Kenneth, trying vainly to squint109 down that member.
“No. Have I?” Frank’s answer and question came in the same breath.
“Well, what in thunder are these people grin——”
There was a soft tearing sound, and then a hollow rattle110. The boys looked down quickly and saw that the damp oysters had softened111 the paper so that the bag no longer held them, and they were falling, leaving a generous trail behind them.
Frank and Kenneth scratched their heads; there were no shops near at hand, the bag was no earthly use, they were a long way from the anchorage, and the oysters were much too precious to be abandoned.
“What’s the matter with tying up the sleeves of this old coat and making a bag of it?” Frank’s inventive brain was beginning to work.
“That’s all right, if you don’t object,” was the reply.
An hour later two boys, one of them in his shirt sleeves, came stumbling along in the dusk toward the levee near which the “Gazelle” was anchored.
“‘Gazelle’ ahoy!” they hailed. “Have you got room for a bunch of oysters and a couple of appetites?”
Evidently there was plenty of room, for “His Nibs” came rushing across to take all three over, the “bunch of oysters” and the “two appetites” to the yacht, where they found two more appetites eagerly waiting their coming.
Ransom and his friends had planned to stay but ten days in New Orleans; just time enough to put in a new mast and refit generally for the long sea voyage before them. Their good intentions, however, were balked112 at every turn. The parents of all the boys, except Ransom’s, besought113 them to return; made all sorts of inducements to persuade them to give up the trip; did everything, in fact, except actually command them. A death in Clyde’s family made it imperative114 that he should go back, and it grieved the boys to have him leave. Clyde was as disappointed as any; and as he boarded the train to go North he said: “I’d give a farm to be coming instead of going.”
The crew was now reduced to three, and Ransom feared that Clyde’s return would influence the others and break up the cruise.
The letters to Frank and Arthur grew more and more insistent115, until one day Chauvet came to Ransom. “Ken,” said he, “this is getting pretty serious. My people come as near saying that they’ll disown me if I don’t come back as they can without actually writing the words. I want to go the rest of the way and play the whole game, and it would be a low down trick to leave you stranded116 here without a crew.”
“Well,” said Kenneth, as he sat down by Frank’s side on the levee in the warm sunshine, “you’ll have to do as you think best, but—I never told you that my father and mother offered me their house if I would give up the trip, did I?”
Frank opened his eyes at this.
“No, I didn’t, but it’s a fact; and when I told them that I didn’t have to be paid to stay and would not go if they felt so strongly about it, they came right around and said, ‘Go, and God bless you.’”
Kenneth’s eyes moistened a little as he harked back to the time, and a vivid picture of his far away Northern home arose before him. “Well, old chap,” he continued, laying his hand on Frank’s knee, “they have been with me heartily117 ever since, and I believe that your people would feel the same about you and be proud of your pluck, too.”
The two looked each other in the eyes a minute—one fair, the other dark—utterly dissimilar in appearance, but both possessed118 of indomitable will and courage—then Frank’s hand slowly sought that of his friend and gripped it hard.
“Ken, I’m with you.”
“Good,” was the other’s only answer.
Arthur’s decision was soon made when he found that Kenneth and Frank had determined to put it through. The three were knit together in a bond of fellowship hard to break.
The equinoctial storms were raging through the Gulf119 at this period, and the boys made good use of the time to buy, shape, and put in place a new mainmast; to tighten120 up the rigging and repaint the boat’s sides, covering up the scars made by the inhospitable river. “His Nibs” was also refitted, so that the staunch little craft looked like new, and was much admired. The boys rambled95 all over the old city, from the above-surface, tomb-like cemetery121, to the lively creole quarter. Ransom visited many ships in port and studied the lines and construction of ocean-going vessels122, river craft and lugger fishing boats. All sorts of craft congregated123 at this harbor for all kinds of purposes—for cotton, for sugar, for every sort of commodity, in fact, even down to mules124. Ransom watched them all, went aboard some and talked with the mates and engineers. His intelligent questions won him courteous125, thoughtful answers. He took notes, made sketches126, and in every way possible took advantage of this opportunity to fit himself for his life’s work.
At last, on the first of May, 1899, the storms having passed, the “Gazelle” being as fit and trim as a boat could be, the crew bade good-by to the many friends they had made, cast off from their moorings and started for the salt sea.
For two days they sailed through the delta127 of the Mississippi, and then entered that dangerous short cut to the Gulf, Cubit’s Gap—a passage flanked on either side by shoals which even the “Gazelle” could not sail over. It was lined by the skeletons of wrecked128 vessels, and made the boys hesitate a little before taking the risk. But “nothing venture nothing gained,” they thought, and a successful venture meant almost a hundred miles gained.
The weather conditions were good and the vote was unanimous in favor of trying; so, on reaching the cut, the “Gazelle” turned to port and entered the dangerous channel.
“Good-by, old Mississippi!” Kenneth said, half aloud. “We are ocean bound at last.”
It was all done very quickly, and never a feeling of reluctance129 came over them as they carefully picked their way among the shoals of the pass.
The run through the sand point, which the current of the river has forced out into the Gulf, was some six miles long. By careful sailing the “Gazelle” ran this distance without mishap; and then spread out before her was the great Gulf of Mexico! Ahead for several miles was the shallow shoal. Débris of every kind surrounded them. Everything was so lonesome. Not a sail in sight or anything to make them feel that the world was peopled.
A flock of sea birds rose from the water, and, with a peculiar cry, flew far away as if frightened by a sight seldom seen, and for a moment made it seem as if they were “alone on a wide, wide sea.”
The sea was calm, so, taking a sounding pole aboard “His Nibs,” Frank, with chart before him, measured the depth. The “Gazelle,” under shortened sail, followed slowly in his wake, often luffing quickly to avoid a bar, and surely, though slowly, winding130 her way. So intricate did the path become at times that it was necessary for them to cast anchor and explore ahead for depths sufficient to float the yacht, but at last, just as the sun was sinking in the distant west, their labors131 were rewarded by success, for careful sailing and constant sounding were necessary, but at last the cheery cry of “No bottom,” came from their pilot ahead, and in a few minutes the staunch “Gazelle” was gliding132 along on the long, rolling surface of the open Gulf, afloat at last on the great salt sea.
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pandemonium
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| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
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ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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tingled
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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glistening
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propped
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ransom
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plunge
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thumped
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perfectly
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prostrate
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sociability
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mishap
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crouched
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gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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abating
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spoke
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erect
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lurch
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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24
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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25
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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26
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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27
brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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28
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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29
cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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30
bucking
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| v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的现在分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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31
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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32
entangling
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| v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的现在分词 ) | |
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33
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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34
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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35
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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36
numbed
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| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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37
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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38
saturated
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| a.饱和的，充满的 | |
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39
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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40
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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41
berths
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| n.（船、列车等的）卧铺( berth的名词复数 )；（船舶的）停泊位或锚位；差事；船台vt.v.停泊( berth的第三人称单数 )；占铺位 | |
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42
eyelid
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| n.眼睑，眼皮 | |
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43
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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44
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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45
sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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46
sprightly
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| adj.愉快的，活泼的 | |
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47
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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48
wince
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| n.畏缩，退避，（因痛苦，苦恼等)面部肌肉抽动；v.畏缩，退缩，退避 | |
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49
wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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50
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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51
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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52
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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53
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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54
hatchets
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| n.短柄小斧( hatchet的名词复数 )；恶毒攻击；诽谤；休战 | |
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55
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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56
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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57
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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58
thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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59
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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60
hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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61
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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62
inaccessible
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| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
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63
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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64
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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65
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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66
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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67
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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68
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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69
scoured
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| 走遍（某地）搜寻（人或物）( scour的过去式和过去分词 )； （用力）刷； 擦净； 擦亮 | |
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70
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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71
emblem
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| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
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72
gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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73
perseverance
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| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
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74
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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75
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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76
scantily
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| adv.缺乏地；不充足地；吝啬地；狭窄地 | |
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77
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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78
locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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79
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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80
doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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81
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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82
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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83
persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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84
mellowness
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| 成熟； 芳醇； 肥沃； 怡然 | |
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85
geniality
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| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
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86
beacons
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| 灯塔( beacon的名词复数 )； 烽火； 指路明灯； 无线电台或发射台 | |
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87
dubbed
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| v.给…起绰号( dub的过去式和过去分词 )；把…称为；配音；复制 | |
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88
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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89
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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90
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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91
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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92
metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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93
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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94
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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95
rambled
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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96
inundation
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| n.the act or fact of overflowing | |
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97
moored
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| adj. 系泊的 动词moor的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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98
steamships
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| n.汽船，大轮船( steamship的名词复数 ) | |
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99
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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100
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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101
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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102
batch
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| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
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103
longingly
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| adv. 渴望地 热望地 | |
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104
oysters
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| 牡蛎( oyster的名词复数 ) | |
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105
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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106
endorsement
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| n.背书；赞成，认可，担保；签(注)，批注 | |
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108
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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109
squint
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| v. 使变斜视眼, 斜视, 眯眼看, 偏移, 窥视; n. 斜视, 斜孔小窗; adj. 斜视的, 斜的 | |
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110
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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111
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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112
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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113
besought
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| v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的过去式和过去分词 )；(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
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114
imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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115
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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116
stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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117
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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118
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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119
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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120
tighten
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| v.(使)变紧；(使)绷紧 | |
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121
cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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122
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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123
congregated
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| （使）集合，聚集( congregate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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124
mules
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| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
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125
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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126
sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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127
delta
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| n.（流的）角洲 | |
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128
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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129
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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130
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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131
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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132
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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