It was totally dark, and though both boys strained their eyes to the utmost, not a sign could they see of the skipper, who had vanished in the twinkling of an eye—knocked out of existence, seemingly, by the swinging blow of the boom.
Again they shouted, in unison1 this time. Surely Kenneth must hear them, they thought, if he was still alive and above water.
“Hulloa!” The voice was startlingly near.
The two looked about quickly in the direction from which the sound came, and beheld2 the skipper hanging on to the end of the boom, far to leeward3; his white nightgown wet and clinging to his long legs, which were waving frantically4 in the effort to help their owner to crawl along the boom towards the yacht. From time to time, as the yawl rolled, the clinging figure was dipped in the sea, and then as suddenly dragged out and swung about like a wet rag on the end of a stick.
For a minute Frank and Arthur stood stupefied, then the humor of the situation dawning on them they began to laugh.
This was too much for Kenneth’s patience, and he shouted wrathfully:
“Trim in that sheet and help me in, will you, you duffers? Do you think I am doing this for your amusement?”
So they hauled in the boom and the dangling5 captain with it, and landed him safely on deck without a scratch.
With her head turned away from the shoal, the “Gazelle” ran off into deeper water. It was a narrow escape for all hands, but especially so for Ransom7, whose quickness in grasping the spar as it swung over saved his life. Soon he could laugh with the boys over his funny appearance. But he realized, as they could not, by what a narrow margin8 he escaped.
After rounding Cape6 Romain, the “Gazelle” sailed along without a mishap9 of any kind for a day; then the barometer10 indicated that there was trouble brewing—in fact, the very atmosphere had the feeling of suppressed excitement that almost always precedes a severe storm. Ransom decided11 that it would be wise to get into a sheltered spot, so he steered12 for the mouth of Cape Fear River. It was a most difficult place to get into; but once inside, the yacht was perfectly14 protected from any kind of storm except, perhaps, a cyclone15.
No sooner had the anchor been dropped than the wind began to raise its voice from the soft whir-r-r of the summer breeze, to the shrill16, high shriek17 of the gale18.
“For once,” said the skipper, “my foresight19 was better than my hindsight.”
“Good work, old man. I always knew you were a wonder,” Frank laughed. “All the same I’m glad we’re inside.”
“Mate, put this man in irons. He shall live on bread and water for ten days, due punishment for insubordination and disrespect for a superior officer.” Kenneth put on a very grave and judicial20 air, but could not quite control a twitching21 of the corners of his mouth, which enlarged to a wide grin when the mate, in obedience22 to his command, tackled the “crew,” and in the scuffle that followed went overboard with his prisoner.
“Never mind the water, mate,” Ransom called when the two dripping boys reached the deck. “He has had enough of that, perhaps.”
For a week the “Gazelle” lay stormbound off the little town of Southport, on the Cape Fear River. In spite of the rain which fell almost continuously, the boys explored every nook and cranny of the harbor, and pushed up the shallow creeks24, and examined the sand hills that protected the shipping25 from the onslaught of the ocean.
The Frying-pan Shoals, extending out into the ocean from the mouth of the Cape Fear River, are responsible for more wrecks26 than perhaps any other reef on the Atlantic coast. Kenneth got chummy with the pilots who make Southport their headquarters, and they gladly gave him much lore23 about the channels, beacons27, and the ins and outs of the intricate passages all along the coast. The government requires every vessel28 above a certain tonnage to take on a pilot; or to be more correct, the vessels29 are required to pay the pilot’s fee whether his services are accepted or not. As the channel is very difficult, and the fee has to be paid in any case, the skippers usually turned the responsibility of navigating30 their vessels into port over to the pilot. The charges are rated according to the ship’s depth—the more water she draws, the more difficulty is experienced in sailing her over the bars, and the pilot’s fee is proportionately large.
One day, Kenneth and the mate rowed against the heavy wind a mile and a half to the outer bar, and then went over to the Cape Fear Light.
The keeper was inclined to be churlish at first, but as soon as Ransom began to tell him a little about the cruise, his manner changed instantly; short answers and bored expression gave way to lively interest and voluble requests for more experiences.
“I tell you, Art,” Kenneth began in an aside to the mate, “a short yarn31 about the cruise is worth a hundred open sesames.”
The keeper led the two boys up the winding32 stair of the lighthouse tower, and as they went round and round, they could hear above the ring of their feet on the iron steps the howling of the wind about the shaft33. The power and majesty34 of it made them pause a minute to listen, and then they felt the shock of the blast, which made even that sturdy tower quiver. When the top was reached, and a clear unobstructed view could be had, the breath of the youngsters was taken away by the awful fury of the elements battling below them; even the lighthouse keeper was awed35 by it, and kept silence. From the beach, a little below the foot of the tower, seaward, as far as the eye could reach through the mist and spray, the ocean tossed and rolled. Great hills of water, green and angry, rose as though pushed up from below, their crests36 lashed37 into foam38 and then blown into vapor39 by the gale; wave succeeded wave, until a mighty40 host of waters, rank on rank, impelled41 by the wind, dashed themselves to foam on the ever-resisting shore.
“Oh, this is a fierce place, and no mistake.” The honest keeper’s words took much of the sublimity42 out of the scene for the boys. “And a terrible place for wrecks,” he continued. “The Frying-pan Shoals run out about twenty-five miles, and vessels are all the time running afoul of them.”
“And in weather like this?” Kenneth inquired.
The keeper made a significant gesture that told, without a word, the horrors of shipwreck43, of the despairing efforts of the sailors to work the vessel off the lee shore when the breakers first were seen or heard; of the canvas blown to tatters, the dreadful roar and overpowering rush of the waves driving the vessel on nearer the shoal, staving the boats and washing the crew overboard; and, finally, the sickening jar and shuddering44 scrape of the ship on the reef. All this the boys saw as the keeper pointed45 to the seething46 waters, and to the ribs47 of a wrecked48 ship showing black against the white foam of the breakers.
Many, many places he pointed out to them where good ships rested never to sail again.
Arthur and Kenneth went back to the yacht with solemn faces and thoughtful minds, and very thankful that the “Gazelle” lay peacefully at anchor, safe.
Though the boys had many pleasant times sailing about the harbor in one of the small boats with which the place was filled—clamming, fishing, and swapping49 stories with the pilots—all hands were glad when the storm abated50, and they were able to weigh anchor and sail out to sea. The six-sided lighthouse looked very different when the boys saw it the second time. The inlet was little troubled by the heavy rolling seas outside and reflected the tall, straight shaft of the Cape Fear Light.
The wind had fallen to a strong, steady breeze that kept the “Gazelle” going at a splendid rate, under all sail reefed once. The sea still showed the effect of the week-long storm. Great, long billows rose and fell, but the yacht coasted gaily51 over them with many low bows and graceful52 recoveries.
It was a straightaway sail to Beaufort, North Carolina, and the 120 miles across the broad curve in the land offered, in all its length, not one good harbor.
The wind held true, and gradually the seas flattened53 out until cruising became a pleasure. Old Ocean seemed bent54 on making the last sail which the boys should take on its waters as pleasant as possible. The sun sank, and all the skies lit up in honor of his departure; then deep black night succeeded, with none of the uncanny feeling of mystery which so ofttimes comes with darkness, but softly and peacefully. The boys felt that the darkness was almost caressing55, like a comfortable robe thrown round them, and they looked forward to a long night’s sail with a sense of security.
The cabin lamp was lighted, and the mellow56 glow poured out through the hatch and dead lights; the sailing lights blinked their red and green eyes forward, warning other night prowlers of the sea. Arthur handled the tiller, while Frank and Kenneth lounged easily on either side of the cockpit. Arthur was sailing by compass, for not a sign of land could be seen—all was utterly57 dark, except where a sea crested58 near enough to catch the light from one of the lamps.
Steadily59 the “Gazelle” sailed on, swaying slowly to the swing of the seas, a veritable cradle motion. Kenneth and Frank felt its influence and dozed60 off; Arthur’s duty kept him awake, but all his resolution was required to keep up.
“THE TALL, STRAIGHT SHAFT OF THE CAPE FEAR LIGHT.”
Suddenly, out of the gloom ahead, loomed61 a shape, soft and formless—a huge shadow moving and bearing down on the tiny “Gazelle.”
“Great Scott!” exclaimed Arthur.
“What is it?” Kenneth woke instantly. “Put her over, quick. Hurry.”
For the first time since her journeying began, the yacht seemed to hesitate, while the great black shadow, which gradually assumed the form of a vessel, bore swiftly down on her. It seemed as if minutes had elapsed before the headsails began to flap and the yawl turned away from her impending62 doom63. Still, the great bulk bore down on them silently, without a light showing, the swelling64 canvas of her sails just indicated by a lighter65 shade.
“Schooner66, ahoy!” Ransom shouted, making a megaphone of his hands. “You’re running us down. Bear up quick!”
A lantern showed high above them on the rail of the schooner, and a woman’s shriek rang out, clear and shrill—an uncanny sound to hear at such a time. There was a creak that told of a shifted helm, and the schooner swung to port, and cleared the yacht by a few scant67 inches.
As the vessel slipped by, silent as a shadow, two white faces showed over the rail high above the “Gazelle.” Not a word of excuse did they utter—probably too dazed by the narrow escape to speak.
“Those people ought to be jailed,” growled68 Ransom in his honest indignation. “Sailing without any light.”
“Guess they learned their lesson, look!” Sure enough, there was the red gleam of the port light glancing over the waves as it was being fitted into its box.
The next afternoon the “Gazelle” sailed into Beaufort harbor, and the boys bid good-by to Old Ocean. For a thousand miles they had sailed over its rough waters in all sorts of weathers, in a boat scarcely thirty feet long. It was an achievement to be proud of. Not many boys could point to such a record.
“Oh! we are the people!” said Frank, justifiably69 elated. “It’s easy from now on; no more storms, no more breakers, no more broken spars.”
“Don’t you get a swelled70 head,” the skipper warned. “There is always a pin point ready for every bubble.”
The “Gazelle” lay at anchor off Beaufort for several days, while the boys roamed about the quaint71 old town. Situated72 just a little below Cape Hatteras, that terrible storm centre, the little city got full benefit of the stormy on-shore gales73, and there were many signs of the lashings it had received. At one place on Front Street, facing seaward, were some poplar trees whose very name suggests unwavering uprightness, but these were bent in a semicircle over the houses—a humble74 acknowledgment of the power of the blast.
The harbor was full of small craft. Boats of every description flitted here and there, like graceful white-winged dragon-flies. Kenneth, for once in his life, saw enough boats, and he got many ideas that he hoped to turn to good account later, when he, himself, should become a full-fledged designer.
The night before the “Gazelle” spread her wings to continue her journey, the three boys were lying about on deck after supper enjoying the evening breeze. It was just about dusk, and sky and water were assuming their most beautiful opalescent75 tints76. It was a time to encourage sentiment, and each of the boys felt a trifle of pleasant sadness as they thought of the far-off homes and the loved ones there. Off in the distance some people were singing a familiar college air. It was all so like some of the evenings the boys had spent off old St. Joe that the unfamiliar77 things about them changed their shapes and positions till they almost dreamed that they were indeed at home. The voices came nearer, and a trim white yacht, that carried the singers, rose out of the dusk and sped swiftly towards them. When the two boats were within a hundred yards of each other, the singers changed their tune78 to “Michigan, My Michigan.”
This completed the spell, and for the first time the captain and crew had a genuine case of homesickness. Neither of the three boys dared to look the other in the face.
“‘Gazelle,’ ahoy!”
The hail rang clear and sharp over the smooth water, and its suddenness woke the boys from their day dreams instantly. It was long since they had heard that hail.
“Aye—who goes there?” was the answer.
“A friend!”
“Approach, friend, and let us look at you.”
The yacht swooped80 round the “Gazelle’s” stern and headed up into the wind, her sails flapping. She dropped her anchor, and soon the yawl’s deck and cabin were filled with gay visitors. One of them knew some of Kenneth’s people, which acquaintance both visitors and visited considered quite sufficient.
The boys hated to weigh anchor next morning and leave the pleasant place and the friends they had just made, but the thought of the thousands of miles yet to be traversed urged them on.
“And just think of leaving those watermelons at two cents each!” The sadness in Arthur’s voice told of his sincere regret.
The first day’s sail brought the voyagers to the end of Core Sound. They were just below Hatteras and inside, but it looked as if the stormy old cape was not going to allow them to pass without giving them an experience to remember him by. The wind was rising rapidly and the massing of the heavy clouds cast a shadow over all.
“We’re in for another blow, I guess,” said the skipper, as he pulled on his sticky oilskins. “This old boat is getting tried out pretty well.”
As the “Gazelle” flew past the Royal Shoal light, the keeper and his family waving good luck, the gale was blowing its best out of the east, and, close-hauled, she flew along in a smother81 of foam, her lee rail awash, her sails hard as if moulded tin, her rigging taut82 and humming like harp79 strings83.
Just before she reached Gull84 Shoal light, her gaff snapped again, and, with reduced canvas, she hurried along. Frank and Arthur lay forward to look for channel marks, and for whatever troubles might chance, while Kenneth steered. The heavy clouds shut down on them like night. The darkness seemed thick enough to cut, and not a thing could be seen but the white-capped waves that dashed madly by them. They were like a man who, being pursued, runs at full speed through a perfectly dark passage that is not familiar to him—he must run on, yet he knows not at what moment he may dash himself against a wall or trip and fall headlong. It was a time of breathless excitement and constant, unnerving fear lest the yacht, flying along at almost railroad speed, should run into one of the numerous shoals that lay spread like a net for the unwary, and dash herself to pieces.
The heavy rain obliterated85 every sign of a channel mark, and the thick storm clouds shut off the sun as completely as a total eclipse. Kenneth had to steer13 by compass only.
Frank and Arthur peered ahead, their hands raised to shield their eyes from the driving rain. A long shoal ran out into the sound, and all hands were trying to make out the lighthouse that marked it.
Ransom thought it the hardest blow he had ever known, and he wondered how long the sturdy little craft he sailed could stand the strain. The wind tugged86 at the canvas, tried all the stays, but, beyond the makeshift gaff, apparently87, could find nothing vulnerable. It seemed as if the squall lasted hours, but when the rain finally stopped and the wind lessened88 in force, the boys saw the dim outlines of the lighthouse off the port bow, and they knew it could not have lasted much over two hours. As they passed the light, the keeper rang his bell in salute89, and shouted his congratulations.
“It’s the worst short storm I have seen in many years,” he shouted. “You’re lucky to get through safe.”
When the mate went below to put on some dry clothes, he looked at the tin clock, and discovered that the “Gazelle” had covered the distance between the two lights—sixteen miles—in about an hour and a quarter.
At Stumpy Bay they stopped to make a new gaff, and then, after a two days’ lay off there, they went on to Coin Jock, North Carolina.
A fleet of barges90, loaded with watermelons, going through the canal leading through the Dismal91 Swamp, to Norfolk, offered to give the boys a tow—an invitation which they hastened to accept. Not till nine o’clock did the procession start, with the “Gazelle” at the end of the long line of boats. It was a dark, lowering night, and not a thing could the boys see of the country through which they were passing. The light of the boat ahead was their only guide.
The yacht was snapped to and fro on the end of the long line of boats like the end boy on a snap-the-whip string. About midnight the rain began to come down in a perfect deluge92, and the word was passed aft to each boat to anchor till things cleared.
Though the boys could see little but the jagged outlines of the trees against the stormy sky, they voted the surroundings dismal enough to merit the name.
Just before daylight, the fleet got under way again, the little “Gazelle” tagging on behind like a reluctant boy hanging on to his mother’s hand when she takes him shopping.
At Norfolk Ransom and his shipmates found a goodly company of vessels of all sorts, all rigs, and every nationality. The red-and-black storm flag was flying from every signal station along the coast, and the vessels had hastened to cover in Hampton Roads and Norfolk harbor.
Returning from the Post Office, where Kenneth and the mate found a goodly batch93 of precious home letters awaiting them, they had great difficulty in making headway against the gale that was already blowing. The anchorage reached, they realized anew how cosey and comfortable the “Gazelle’s” cabin was.
“Let’s have a watermelon in honor of—well—to celebrate this occasion.” It was Arthur, of course, who suggested this.
“In honor of what occasion?” Frank winked94 at the skipper.
“The watermelon and the fellows who gave it to us.”
So each boy, a section of pink fruit in one hand and a letter in the other, began the absorbing process of eating and reading.
The wind was playing high jinks outside, but the young tars95 in their snug96 cabin heeded97 it not a bit.
Not till a stream of pink melon juice squirted over the written page which he was reading, did Kenneth look up—his attention distracted. The darkness of the cabin made him look for the cause.
To port, flashes of the gray, stormy light were sifting98 in through the oval windows when the yacht rose to the top of a wave; then he turned to the right and looked out. A great black wall shut off every particle of light—it was as if the yacht had been built against a high board fence.
Kenneth jumped up and ran on deck.
“Look out, boys!” he shouted down the hatch after a moment. “The big schooner just to starboard of us is dragging her anchors and will be down on us in a minute.”
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1
unison
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| n.步调一致，行动一致 | |
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2
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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leeward
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| adj.背风的；下风的 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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5
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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9
mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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10
barometer
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| n.气压表，睛雨表，反应指标 | |
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11
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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12
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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13
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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14
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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15
cyclone
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| n.旋风，龙卷风 | |
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16
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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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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19
foresight
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| n.先见之明，深谋远虑 | |
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judicial
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| adj.司法的，法庭的，审判的，明断的，公正的 | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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lore
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| n.传说；学问，经验，知识 | |
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creeks
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| n.小湾( creek的名词复数 )；小港；小河；小溪 | |
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shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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wrecks
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| n.沉船( wreck的名词复数 )；（事故中）遭严重毁坏的汽车（或飞机等）；（身体或精神上）受到严重损伤的人；状况非常糟糕的车辆（或建筑物等）v.毁坏[毁灭]某物( wreck的第三人称单数 )；使（船舶）失事，使遇难，使下沉 | |
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27
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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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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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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navigating
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| v.给（船舶、飞机等）引航，导航( navigate的现在分词 )；（从海上、空中等）横越；横渡；飞跃 | |
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yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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crests
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| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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37
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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38
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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40
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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41
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42
sublimity
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| 崇高，庄严，气质高尚 | |
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43
shipwreck
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| n.船舶失事，海难 | |
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44
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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45
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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46
seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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47
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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48
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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49
swapping
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| 交换，交换技术 | |
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abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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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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caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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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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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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justifiably
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| adv.无可非议地 | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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gales
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| 龙猫 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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opalescent
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| adj.乳色的，乳白的 | |
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tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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harp
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| n.竖琴；天琴座 | |
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swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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gull
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| n.鸥；受骗的人；v.欺诈 | |
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obliterated
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| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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deluge
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| n./vt.洪水，暴雨，使泛滥 | |
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batch
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| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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tars
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| 焦油，沥青，柏油( tar的名词复数 ) | |
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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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heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sifting
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| n.筛，过滤v.筛( sift的现在分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
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