“Once upon a time,” said Jackman, glancing at Junkie and Robin1 Tips, who sat before him open-mouthed and open-eyed, as if ready to swallow anything...
“Yes,” murmured Junkie, nodding, “that’s the right way to begin.”
“But you must not interrupt, Junkie.”
“No, I won’t do it again; but first, tell me, is it true?”
“Yes, my boy; it is absolutely true in all its main points,” replied Jackman.
“Well, as I said, once upon a time, not very long ago, I was sent up to the North-west provinces of India, to a place near the base of the Himalaya mountain-range. The country was swarming2 with elephants at that time. You see, previous to that, the elephants had been hunted and killed to such an extent that the Government had been obliged to pass an Elephant Preservation3 Act for their protection, and the Act worked so well that the elephants multiplied very fast. They roamed at will through the forests, and frequently, leaving these, made raids upon the cultivated lands, to the great damage of property and danger of human life from the ‘rogues,’ as old, solitary4 elephants which have been driven from the herds5, are called. These ‘rogues’ are extremely ill-natured and dangerous, so it was found necessary to take steps to kill some of them, and thin the herds by capturing some of the females, which might be tamed and made useful.
“For this purpose of hunting and catching7 elephants a hunt upon a truly magnificent scale was instituted. Now, as it is very difficult to kill such huge creatures, and still more difficult to catch them, men are obliged to call to their aid tame elephants, which are trained for the purpose of what is called Khedda hunting. But I don’t mean to tell you either about the killing8 or catching just now. I shall rather relate an extraordinary and thrilling incident that occurred before the hunt had properly begun.
“Great men from all parts of the country assembled at this hunt, some of them bringing troops of tame elephants and followers9 with them. There were governors and rajahs, and private secretaries, with some of their wives, military officers, forest officers, commissioners10, collectors, superintendents11, magistrates12, surgeons, medical officers, and even clergymen, besides a host of smaller fry and servants. It was a regular army! The Maharajah of Bulrampore sent sixty-five catching elephants, and five koonkies or fighting elephants, among which was a famous warrior13 named Chand Moorut. Along with these came a body of men trained to that special work. A good contingent14 also came from Rampore. The Rajah of Khyrigarh came in person with thirteen elephants and a noted15 fighting animal, named Berchir Bahadur; other elephants were collected from the rajahs and native gentlemen around. Among the koonkies, or gladiators, were two tremendous fellows, both as to colossal16 size and courage, named respectively Raj Mungul and Isri Pershad.
“But far before them all in towering height and stupendous weight and unconquerable courage, as well as warlike tendency, was the mighty17 Chand Moorut, whom I first mentioned. This grand, slow-moving, sedate18 hero of a hundred fights, was a sort of elephantine bull-dog; a concentrated earthquake; an animal thunder-bolt; a suppressed volcano. Nothing in the forests had yet been found which could stand before his onset19. And when we saw him stalk solemnly into camp with his mahowt, or guide, looking like a small monkey on his great neck, and remembered his fame as a fighter and his eager thirst at all times for battle, we felt that the keystone had been put to the arch of our arrangements.
“This great mixed multitude was put under the direction of a Conservator of Forests, a man celebrated20 for his exploits and daring adventures in the field, and it was as a friend of his that I joined the hunt with my man, Pat Quin there.”
“Troth, sor, an’ av it wasn’t for Chand Moorut (blissin’s on his great sowl, av he has wan21, an’ on his body av he hasn’t) your man Pat Quin would have been left there as flat as a pancake. Excuse me, sor, for spakin’, but me feelin’s overcomed me.”
“No doubt, Quin, you had a narrow escape; I’ll come to that soon. Well, the spot at last chosen for pitching the camp was a splendid one, facing northward22, where we had an extensive view of the great forests that stretched to the base of the irregular and rugged23 Sawalick hills. Behind these rose the mighty Himalayas themselves, their grand peaks seeming to push up into the very heavens, where the sun shone with dazzling brilliancy on their everlasting25 snows. The camp covered an immense piece of ground, which was partly open and partly dotted with clumps27 of trees. It was so large that the tents, etcetera, were arranged in streets, and our Director pitched his tent in the very centre of it, with all the tame elephants and their attendants around him.
“You may easily fancy that it was a noisy camp, with so many hundreds of men and animals around, full of excitement, more or less, about the coming fight; for we had a number of men, called trackers, out in the woods, who had brought in news that a herd6 of wild elephants had just been discovered in the Saharanpur and Dun forests, on the banks of the Ganges.
“The glens in these forests were known to be well suited for hunting purposes, so our hopes and expectations were raised to a high pitch. Towards evening we had got pretty well settled down, when a rumour28 got about the camp that one of the Khedda elephants had killed a man, and that it was highly probable he would run amuck29 to the great danger of every one. It happened thus:—
“A big tusker, named Mowla Buksh, was being taken by his mahowt to drink and bathe, according to custom, when it was observed that the elephant seemed to be out of temper. Just then one of the fodder-cutters chanced to pass by.
“‘Keep out of his way,’ cried the mahowt, in a warning tone. ‘There’s something wrong with him to-day. I won’t bathe him, I think.’
“‘Oh! he knows me well, and won’t harm me,’ returned the cutter.
“The words were scarcely out of the man’s mouth, when the brute31 rushed at him, knocked him down, gored32 him with his tusks33, and kicked him after the fashion of enraged34 elephants. Of course the poor man was instantly killed. When this deed was done, Mowlah Buksh seemed to feel that, having lost his character, he might as well go on in his course of mischief35. He became wild with fury, and kept throwing his head back in a vain endeavour to seize his mahowt with his trunk and kill him also. In this effort he failed. The mahowt, though old, was active and strong. He managed to hold on and sit so far back on the elephant’s hind24 quarters as to be just out of reach. Luckily the brute did not think of shaking him off.
“Had he attempted that, he would soon have succeeded. The poor man would have fallen to the ground and been killed. Finding that he could not accomplish his purpose, the infuriated animal rushed towards the camp, where the khedda or hunting elephants were, and where, as I have said, our Director had pitched his tent. My own tent was close beside his.
“The first I heard of what was going on was from Quin, who came running into my tent, where I was sitting quietly at the time, cleaning my rifle. Quin’s eyes were starting out of his head, and there was, I assure you, nothing of the pleasant smile that rests on his face at this moment!
“I jumped up quickly, you may believe, for I didn’t often see that look on Quin’s face, and when I did, I knew well that something very serious was in the wind.
“‘Where away is he?’ I asked.
“‘Sorrow wan o’ me knows, sor,’ said Quin.
“Rushing out with no very fixed37 purpose in view, I soon found that the shouting in the camp was a sufficient guide to the spot where the mischief was going on. In a few minutes I came on a cordon38 of musketeers who had been hastily drawn39 up, so as to prevent Mowla Buksh from getting at the other elephants, for if he had succeeded in doing so, he would certainly have gone knocking about the smaller ones, perhaps maiming them, and killing every man who might chance to come in his path. On the other hand, if the musketeers managed to turn him, there was the danger of his making for the main camp, and killing every one he could lay hold of in that direction.
“Of course the thought of turning out the big fighting elephants to master him occurred to every one; but even here there would be risk, for these gladiators would not rest content without knocking Mowla Buksh off his legs, in which case the mahowt would assuredly be killed. Besides, our Director chanced to be in the forest at the time, and no one else seemed ready to take the responsibility of ordering them out.
“When I came up to the musketeers, I saw the elephant rushing wildly about, trying to find a way through them, with the old mahowt sticking to his back like a burr.
“The Bulrampore men shouted to him to try and get the elephant to go to his standing40-place, saying that if he could persuade him to sit down they would tie his legs up. After the brute had exhausted41 itself somewhat by rushing about, the mahowt did succeed in recovering control so far as to persuade him to move to his standing-place, which was not far distant, and to our great relief he sat down in the usual way. The Bulrampore men were as good as their word. Smart hands every one, they ran up with ropes and commenced tying up his hind legs. Being experts at the work, they manipulated the thick ropes with amazing rapidity, and had the panting animal almost secured when he partially42 recovered, and began to understand what was being done to him. He started up indignantly, just before the knots were properly fastened, and struck out right and left with his trunk, scattering43 the men in all directions.
“Although the ropes had not been quite secured, they were sufficiently44 fast to impede45 his movements. He therefore took to venting46 his rage on the surrounding trees, and, really, until that day, I had not realised the prodigious47 strength of this king of beasts. He knocked and smashed them down right and left with the greatest possible ease, although, I do assure you, some of them were fully48 eight inches in diameter. All this time the old mahowt was clinging to his back, not daring to slip off.
“The men now began to lay large rope-nooses49 about here and there, in the hope that he would accidentally put a foot into one of them. But Mowla Buksh was much too knowing to be caught in this way. Whenever he came across one of these nooses, he took it up with his trunk and tossed it contemptuously aside. Gradually he worked his way up to a cluster of trees near the tent in which our Director’s wife had been seated all the time—with what feelings I will not pretend to guess. In this cluster he spent two hours, smashing down trees all the time, and occasionally, by way of variety, trying to lay hold of the poor mahowt, who was gradually becoming exhausted through terror and the exertion50 of holding on.
“Strange to say, now and then the man appeared to regain51 control over the beast, though only for a few seconds. During one of these intervals52 he even succeeded in making Mowla Buksh partially sit down.
“‘Och! now or niver! Off wid ye!’ yelled a splitting voice close to my ear! I need not tell you whose voice that was, or that its owner was skipping about like a gorilla53, almost as mad as the elephant!”
“Ah! sor,” interrupted Quin, “don’t ye remimber how yourself was—but I’ll have mercy on ye! Go on, sor.”
“Well, I confess,” resumed Jackman, “that I was a little excited. However, the Bulrampore men echoed Quin’s advice in eagerly expressed Hindustani. The mahowt took it, slipped to the ground, and ran for his life! Fortunately the excited Mowla either did not perceive or did not care. He rose up and recommenced his work of destruction.
“All this time he had been freeing himself from the ropes with which he was imperfectly bound. At last he detached them entirely54, and began to make furious rushes in every direction.
“At that critical moment our Director arrived on the scene. Seeing how matters stood he at once gave orders to have the fighting elephants brought to the front, as the only chance that remained to bring the mischief to an end. The orders were gladly and promptly55 obeyed.
“Before they arrived, however, Mowla Buksh, in one of his rushes, came straight to where Quin and I were standing—”
“Skippin’, sor, ye said.”
“Well, skipping. But we stopped skipping at once, and took to running as hard as we could. We both ran through some soft reedy ground, where the brute overtook us. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him knock Quin into the rushes and set his enormous foot on him—”
“Oh! was he killed?” exclaimed Junkie with a look of consternation56 at the now heroic Quin!
There was a general burst of laughter, in which Junkie joined, for he saw the absurdity57 of the question which sudden anxiety had forced from him.
“But why wasn’t you killed?” he asked almost indignantly.
“Whisht! honey, an’ ye’ll hear, av ye’ll howld your tongue.”
“You must know,” continued Jackman, “that the place he had tumbled into was wet, soft ground, and Quin has a sharp way of looking after his life! Although half stunned58 he rolled to one side, so that only the side of the great foot came down on his shoulder and thrust him deep into the mud. I stopped at once with a feeling of horror, but without the slightest conception of what I meant to do, and the horror was deepened as I saw the monster turn with the evident intention of completing his work.
“At that terrible moment the colossal forms of Raj Mungul, Isri Pershad, and the mighty Chand Moorut appeared, coming towards us. Mowla Buksh did not carry out his deadly intentions. There was ‘method in his madness.’ Seeing the koonkies approach, he retreated at once to the shelter of the cluster of trees, and waited.
“I rushed forward, expecting to find my man dead and flattened59, but he rose slowly as I came up, and with an indescribable expression of countenance60 said, ‘Arrah! then, but he was heavy!’”
“An’ that must have been true—what-ever” said McGregor, unable to restrain a comment at this point.
“What you remark is true likewise, Shames,” said the skipper.
“Go on—quick!” cried Junkie, eagerly.
“Well, our Director gave orders, to take Raj Mungul to the south side of the clump26 of trees, Isri Pershad to the west, and Chand Moorut to the east. It was impossible to let the last go in, though he was impatient to do so, for by that time it was getting dark, and his mahowt would have probably been swept off his back by the branches; and the risk of such a gladiator being let loose without a controlling hand was not to be thought of for a moment.
“The difficulty was got over by means of a ruse61. Two men were sent to the north side of the clump with orders to talk and attract the attention of Mowla. The plan succeeded. The moment the still fuming62 brute heard their voices, he went at them furiously! Now was the chance for the heroic Chand Moorut; and that warrior was never known to let an opportunity slip. No British bull-dog ever gave or accepted a challenge with more hilarious63 alacrity64 than he. As soon as Mowla came out of the trees, Chand Moorut went at him with a rush that seemed incredible in such a mountain of usually slow and dignified65 flesh. But darkness, coupled perhaps with haste, interfered66. He missed his mark, and Mowla Buksh, turning round, dashed straight at the tent, in front of which our Director and a friend were standing. The friend, who was a V.C. as well as a cool and intrepid67 sportsman, directed the light of a lantern full on the monster’s face till it was close upon him, thus enabling the Director to plant a bullet in his head. Whether the shot gave him a headache or not, I cannot tell. The only certain effect it had was to turn the animal aside, and cause it to rush off in the direction of the main camp, closely followed by Isri Pershad and Raj Mungul. Chand Moorut was held back in reserve. Happily Raj Mungul managed to outstrip68 and turn the runaway69, and as Mowla Buksh came back, Chand Moorut got another chance at him. Need I say that he took advantage of it? Charging in like a live locomotive, he sent the mad creature flying—as if it had been a mere70 kitten—head over heels into a small hollow!”
“Well done! Capital!” shouted Junkie, at this point unable to restrain himself, as, with glittering eyes, he glanced round the circle of listeners.
A laugh at his enthusiasm seemed to Junkie to endorse71 his sentiment, so he turned to Jackman and earnestly bade him to “go on.”
“There is not much to go on with now, my boy,” continued the narrator; “for Mowla Buksh being down, the fighting elephants took good care to punish him well before they let him up again. But as the encounter had aroused the combative72 propensities73 of Chand Moorut, it was thought wise to remove him from the scene before he became too excited. This being managed by his mahowt, the punishing of the rebel was left to Isri Pershad and Raj Mungul, who did their work thoroughly74. No sooner did the culprit scramble75 out of the hollow than Isri Pershad knocked him back into it, and pummelled him heartily76 with trunk and legs. Again Mowla Buksh rose, and this time Raj Mungul gave him a tap on the forehead with his own ponderous77 head, which sent him into a bed of giant rushes, over the top of which his little tail was seen to wriggle78 viciously as he disappeared with a crash.
“There he would probably have been content to lie still for a time, but his opponents had other views in regard to him. They went at him together, and so cuffed79, kicked, bumped and pummelled him, that in about five minutes he was reduced to a pitiable state of humiliation80. As Quin truly remarked at the time, his own mother would have failed to recognise him.
“Just at this point, to my surprise, the old mahowt came forward, with tears in his eyes, and begged that his elephant might be spared! It had been punished quite sufficiently, he thought. I was much impressed with this display of a tender, forgiving spirit towards a brute that had done its very best to take his own life. But no one sympathised with him at the moment, and the punishment was continued until Mowla Buksh was thoroughly subdued81, and compelled by his conquerors82 to return to his standing-place, where he was finally and firmly secured. Thus, at last, ended this exciting and most unexpected commencement to our hunt, and the whole camp was soon after steeped in silence and repose83. Not a bad beginning, eh, Junkie?”
“Yes, but go on wi’ the hunt,” said the boy with eager promptitude, a request which was loudly echoed by his brothers.
“No, no, boys; you’ve had enough to digest for one day; besides, I see the cart coming up the road to fetch our deer. And perhaps your father has more work cut out for us.”
“Well, not much,” replied the laird, who had been quite as much interested in the elephant story as his sons. “There is another drive on the east side of the hill, which we have still time for, though I don’t expect much from it. However, we can try it. Come now, lads, we’ll be going.”
“Shames,” said Captain McPherson, as the party moved away from the lunching-ground, “I wonder if a good thrashin’ like that would make the elephant a better beast afterwards?”
“Weel now, Captain Mcphairson, I don’t think it would,” replied McGregor after a pause for consideration.
“You are right, Shames,” said Ian Anderson, the old fisherman, who was a deep-thinking man. “It has always appeared to me, that the object of poonishment, is a not to make us coot, but to make us obedient.”
“Then what for are ye always poonishin’ me, an’ tellin’ me to be coot, when ye say it won’t make me coot?” asked Donald.
“Because, Tonal’, it iss my duty to tell ye to be coot, although I cannot make ye coot, ye rascal84!” answered the fisherman, sternly; “but I can make ye obey me by poonishin’ you—ay, an’ I wull do it too.”
Donald knew too well from experience that it was not safe to attempt arguing the question, but he gave a peculiarly defiant85 shake of his ragged86 head, which said as plainly as words that the time was coming when “poonishment” would cease to secure even obedience—at least in his case!
“You are right, Ian,” said Jackman, turning round, for he had overheard the conversation. “Punishment compelled Mowla Buksh to walk to his standing-place and submit to be tied up, for he did not dare to disobey with Isri Pershad and Raj Mungul standing guard over him, but it certainly did not make him good. I went, with many others, to see him the next morning. On the way over to the elephant camp, I saw the huge trees which he had smashed down in his rage lying about in all directions, and on reaching his standing-place, found him looking decidedly vicious and bad-tempered87. It was quite evident that any one venturing within reach of his trunk would receive harsh treatment and no mercy. A small red spot in his great forehead showed that our Director’s aim had been a fairly good one, though it had not hit the deadly spot in the centre.”
“But I want to know,” said Junkie, who kept close to Jackman’s side, thirsting for every word that fell from his lips, “why did the bullet not go in and kill Bowly Muksh?”
“Because the head of Mowla Buksh was too thick,” said Jackman, laughing. “You see, to be a thick-head is not always a disadvantage.”
“There, you ought to take comfort from that, Junkie,” remarked his brother Archie, with that fine spirit of tenderness which is so often observable in brothers.
“Hold your tongues!” growled89 Junkie—the more classic “shut up” not having at that time found its way to the Western Isles90.
“You must know, Junkie, that all parts of an elephant’s head are not of equal thickness,” said Jackman in that kindly91 confidential92 tone which tends so powerfully to soothe93 a ruffled94 spirit. “The only point in an elephant’s forehead that can be pierced by a rifle ball is exactly in the centre. It is about the size of a saucer, and if you miss that, you might as well fire against the Eagle Cliff itself, for the ball would only stick in the skull95.”
With this explanation Junkie was fain to rest content at the time, for the party had reached a part of the hill where it became necessary to station the guns at their several posts. In regard to this drive, we have only to say that it ended in nothing except heavy rain and a severe draft on the patience of the sportsmen, without any reward, save that which may be derived96 from mild martyrdom.
Now, when the events which we have described were taking place on the mountains of Loch Lossie, a very different scene was occurring in the nursery of Kinlossie House. In that interesting apartment, which was one of the chief country residences of the spirits Row and Smash, little Flora97 was seated all alone in the afternoon of that day. Her seat was a low chair, before her was a low table to match. On the table sat her favourite doll, Blackie, to whom she was administering counsel of the gravest kind, in tones the most solemn. The counsel, we need scarcely say, gave unquestionable proof that her mother’s admonitions to herself had been thoroughly understood, though not always acted on. Flo was in the midst of one of her most pathetic appeals to Blackie to be “dood,” when her mother entered hastily.
“Come with me, darling, to visit poor old Mrs Donaldson. She is not very well, I hear.”
Flo required no second bidding, for she was extremely fond of the keeper’s mother—and love needs no persuasion98.
As we have said, Mrs Donaldson’s little cottage stood behind that of her son Ivor. It was very small, consisting of only one apartment with a box bed and a few articles of old furniture, the most cherished of which was a little clock with a staring face, and a poor landscape on it.
“What caused the bruise99, Maggie?” asked Mrs Gordon, after much talk on the subject of fomentations and bandages. The old woman hesitated to tell, but after a little pressing she said, in half apologetic tone,—“Weel, mem, it was na Ivor’s fau’t, but the day before yesterday he cam in—fou—ye ken30 he’s fond o’ his glass, mem, an’ he was swingin’ aboot his airms, poor falla, an’ withoot the least intention, his haund cam doon wi’ sik a ding on my heed100 that knockit me doon. But he kens101 na aboot it, so ye’ll no speak o’t to him—or to the laird.”
“You may depend upon it, poor Maggie, that I will not. My mentioning it could do no good. And, as you say, Ivor was not quite himself at the time.”
“Thank’ee, mem, that’s just it. An’ he’s the best sons to me—whan he’s sober.”
Soon afterwards a shout outside told that the sportsmen had returned from the hills, so, bidding the old woman good-bye, Mrs Gordon and her sympathetic child returned to the house.
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robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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preservation
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| n.保护，维护，保存，保留，保持 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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herds
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| 兽群( herd的名词复数 )； 牧群； 人群； 群众 | |
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herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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commissioners
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| n.专员( commissioner的名词复数 )；长官；委员；政府部门的长官 | |
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superintendents
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| 警长( superintendent的名词复数 )； （大楼的）管理人； 监管人； （美国）警察局长 | |
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magistrates
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| 地方法官，治安官( magistrate的名词复数 ) | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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contingent
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| adj.视条件而定的；n.一组，代表团，分遣队 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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onset
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| n.进攻，袭击，开始，突然开始 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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northward
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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hind
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everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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rumour
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amuck
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| ad.狂乱地 | |
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ken
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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gored
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| v.（动物）用角撞伤，用牙刺破( gore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tusks
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| n.（象等动物的）长牙( tusk的名词复数 )；獠牙；尖形物；尖头 | |
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enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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cordon
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| n.警戒线，哨兵线 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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impede
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| v.妨碍，阻碍，阻止 | |
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venting
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| 消除； 泄去； 排去； 通风 | |
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prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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nooses
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| n.绞索，套索( noose的名词复数 ) | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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51
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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intervals
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| 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 | |
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gorilla
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| n.大猩猩，暴徒，打手 | |
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54
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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ruse
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| n.诡计，计策；诡计 | |
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fuming
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| 愤怒( fume的现在分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
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hilarious
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| adj.充满笑声的，欢闹的；[反]depressed | |
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alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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intrepid
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| adj.无畏的，刚毅的 | |
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outstrip
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| v.超过，跑过 | |
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runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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endorse
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| vt.(支票、汇票等)背书，背署；批注；同意 | |
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combative
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| adj.好战的；好斗的 | |
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propensities
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| n.倾向，习性( propensity的名词复数 ) | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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wriggle
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| v./n.蠕动，扭动；蜿蜒 | |
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79
cuffed
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| v.掌打，拳打( cuff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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81
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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conquerors
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| 征服者，占领者( conqueror的名词复数 ) | |
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83
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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84
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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85
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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86
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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bad-tempered
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| adj.脾气坏的 | |
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88
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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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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isles
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| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
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91
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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96
derived
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| 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 | |
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97
flora
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| n.(某一地区的)植物群 | |
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persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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99
bruise
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| n.青肿，挫伤；伤痕；vt.打青；挫伤 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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101
kens
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| vt.知道（ken的第三人称单数形式） | |
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