Its descent, though gradual, was continuous, and therefore I was not surprised when soon we began to come upon evidences of semi-tropical vegetation. Giant rhododendrons and tree ferns gave way to occasional clumps5 of stately kopek and clumps of the hardier6 bamboos. We added a few snow cocks to our larder7 — although they were out of their habitat, flying down into the gorge8 from their peaks and table-lands for some choice tidbit.
All that day we marched on, and when at night we made camp, sleep came to us quickly and overmastering. An hour after dawn we were on our way. A brief stop we made for lunch; pressed forward.
It was close to two when we caught the first sight of the ruins.
The soaring, verdure-clad walls of the canyon9 had long been steadily10 marching closer. Above, between their rims11 the wide ribbon of sky was like a fantastically shored river, shimmering13, dazzling; every cove3 and headland edged with an opalescent14 glimmering15 as of shining pearly beaches.
And as though we were sinking in that sky stream’s depths its light kept lessening16, darkening imperceptibly with luminous17 shadows of ghostly beryl, drifting veils of pellucid18 aquamarine, limpid19 mists of glaucous chrysolite.
Fainter, more crepuscular20 became the light, yet never losing its crystalline quality. Now the high overhead river was but a brook21; became a thread. Abruptly22 it vanished.
We passed into a tunnel, fern walled, fern roofed, garlanded with tawny23 orchids24, gay with carmine25 fungus26 and golden moss27. We stepped out into a blaze of sunlight.
Before us lay a wide green bowl held in the hands of the clustered hills; shallow, circular, as though, while plastic still, the thumb of God had run round its rim12, shaping it. Around it the peaks crowded, craning their lofty heads to peer within.
It was about a mile in its diameter, this hollow, as my gaze then measured it. It had three openings — one that lay like a crack in the northeast slope; another, the tunnel mouth through which we had come. The third lifted itself out of the bowl, creeping up the precipitous bare scarp of the western barrier straight to the north, clinging to the ochreous rock up and up until it vanished around a far distant shoulder.
It was a wide and bulwarked road, a road that spoke28 as clearly as though it had tongue of human hands which had cut it there in the mountain’s breast. An ancient road weary beyond belief beneath the tread of uncounted years.
From the hollow the blind soul of loneliness groped out to greet us!
Never had I felt such loneliness as that which lapped the lip of the verdant29 bowl. It was tangible30 — as though it had been poured from some reservoir of misery31. A pool of despair —
Half the width of the valley away the ruins began. Weirdly32 were they its visible expression. They huddled33 in two bent34 rows to the bottom. They crouched35 in a wide cluster against the cliffs. From the cluster a curving row of them ran along the southern crest36 of the hollow.
A flight of shattered, cyclopean steps lifted to a ledge37 and here a crumbling38 fortress39 stood.
Irresistibly40 did the ruins seem a colossal41 hag, flung prone42, lying listlessly, helplessly, against the barrier’s base. The huddled lower ranks were the legs, the cluster the body, the upper row an outflung arm and above the neck of the stairway the ancient fortress, rounded and with two huge ragged43 apertures44 in its northern front was an aged45, bleached46 and withered47 head staring, watching.
I looked at Drake — the spell of the bowl was heavy upon him, his face drawn48. The Chinaman and Tibetan were murmuring, terror written large upon them.
“A hell of a joint49!” Drake turned to me, a shadow of a grin lightening the distress50 on his face. “But I’d rather chance it than go back. What d’you say?”
I nodded, curiosity mastering my oppression. We stepped over the rim, rifles on the alert. Close behind us crowded the two servants and the ponies51.
The vale was shallow, as I have said. We trod the fragments of an olden approach to the green tunnel so the descent was not difficult. Here and there beside the path upreared huge broken blocks. On them I thought I could see faint tracings as of carvings53 — now a suggestion of gaping54, arrow-fanged dragon jaws55, now the outline of a scaled body, a hint of enormous, batlike wings.
Now we had reached the first of the crumbling piles that stretched down into the valley’s center.
Half fainting, I fell against Drake, clutching to him for support.
A stream of utter hopelessness was racing52 upon us, swirling56 and eddying57 around us, reaching to our hearts with ghostly fingers dripping with despair. From every shattered heap it seemed to pour, rushing down the road upon us like a torrent58, engulfing59 us, submerging, drowning.
Unseen it was — yet tangible as water; it sapped the life from every nerve. Weariness filled me, a desire to drop upon the stones, to be rolled away. To die. I felt Drake’s body quivering even as mine; knew that he was drawing upon every reserve of strength.
“Steady,” he muttered. “Steady —”
The Tibetan shrieked60 and fled, the ponies scrambling61 after him. Dimly I remembered that mine carried precious specimens62; a surge of anger passed, beating back the anguish63. I heard a sob64 from Chiu–Ming, saw him drop.
Drake stopped, drew him to his feet. We placed him between us, thrust each an arm through his own. Then, like swimmers, heads bent, we pushed on, buffeting65 that inexplicable66 invisible flood.
As the path rose, its force lessened67, my vitality68 grew, and the terrible desire to yield and be swept away waned69. Now we had reached the foot of the cyclopean stairs, now we were half up them — and now as we struggled out upon the ledge on which the watching fortress stood, the clutching stream shoaled swiftly, the shoal became safe, dry land and the cheated, unseen maelstrom70 swirled71 harmlessly beneath us.
We stood erect72, gasping73 for breath, again like swimmers who have fought their utmost and barely, so barely, won.
There was an almost imperceptible movement at the side of the ruined portal.
Out darted74 a girl. A rifle dropped from her hands. Straight she sped toward me.
And as she ran I recognized her.
Ruth Ventnor!
The flying figure reached me, threw soft arms around my neck, was weeping in relieved gladness on my shoulder.
“Ruth!” I cried. “What on earth are YOU doing here?”
“Walter!” she sobbed75. “Walter Goodwin — Oh, thank God! Thank God!”
She drew herself from my arms, catching76 her breath; laughed shakily.
I took swift stock of her. Save for fear upon her, she was the same Ruth I had known three years before; wide, deep blue eyes that were now all seriousness, now sparkling wells of mischief77; petite, rounded and tender; the fairest skin; an impudent78 little nose; shining clusters of intractable curls; all human, sparkling and sweet.
Drake coughed, insinuatingly79. I introduced him.
“I— I watched you struggling through that dreadful pit.” She shuddered80. “I could not see who you were, did not know whether friend or enemy — but oh, my heart almost died in pity for you, Walter,” she breathed. “What can it be — THERE?”
I shook my head.
“Martin could not see you,” she went on. “He was watching the road that leads above. But I ran down — to help.”
“Mart watching?” I asked. “Watching for what?”
“I—” she hesitated oddly. “I think I’d rather tell you before him. It’s so strange — so incredible.”
She led us through the broken portal and into the fortress. It was more gigantic even than I had thought. The floor of the vast chamber81 we had entered was strewn with fragments fallen from the crackling, stone-vaulted ceiling. Through the breaks light streamed from the level above us.
We picked our way among the debris82 to a wide crumbling stairway, crept up it, Ruth flitting ahead. We came out opposite one of the eye-like apertures. Black against it, perched high upon a pile of blocks, I recognized the long, lean outline of Ventnor, rifle in hand, gazing intently up the ancient road whose windings84 were plain through the opening. He had not heard us.
“Martin,” called Ruth softly.
He turned. A shaft85 of light from a crevice86 in the gap’s edge struck his face, flashing it out from the semidarkness of the corner in which he crouched. I looked into the quiet gray eyes, upon the keen face.
“Goodwin!” he shouted, tumbling down from his perch83, shaking me by the shoulders. “If I had been in the way of praying — you’re the man I’d have prayed for. How did you get here?”
“Just wandering, Mart,” I answered. “But Lord! I’m sure GLAD to see you.”
“Which way did you come?” he asked, keenly. I threw my hand toward the south.
“Not through that hollow?” he asked incredulously.
“And some hell of a place to get through,” Drake broke in. “It cost us our ponies and all my ammunition87.”
“Richard Drake,” I said. “Son of old Alvin — you knew him, Mart.”
“Knew him well,” cried Ventnor, seizing Dick’s hand. “Wanted me to go to Kamchatka to get some confounded sort of stuff for one of his devilish experiments. Is he well?”
“He’s dead,” replied Dick soberly.
“Oh!” said Ventnor. “Oh — I’m sorry. He was a great man.”
Briefly88 I acquainted him with my wanderings, my encounter with Drake.
“That place out there —” he considered us thoughtfully. “Damned if I know what it is. Thought maybe it’s gas — of a sort. If it hadn’t been for it we’d have been out of this hole two days ago. I’m pretty sure it must be gas. And it must be much less than it was this morning, for then we made an attempt to get through again — and couldn’t.”
I was hardly listening. Ventnor had certainly advanced a theory of our unusual symptoms that had not occurred to me. That hollow might indeed be a pocket into which a gas flowed; just as in the mines the deadly coal damp collects in pits, flows like a stream along the passages. It might be that — some odorless, colorless gas of unknown qualities; and yet —
“Did you try respirators?” asked Dick.
“Surely,” said Ventnor. “First off the go. But they weren’t of any use. The gas, if it is gas, seems to operate as well through the skin as through the nose and mouth. We just couldn’t make it — and that’s all there is to it. But if you made it — could we try it now, do you think?” he asked eagerly.
I felt myself go white.
“Not — not for a little while,” I stammered89.
He nodded, understandingly.
“I see,” he said. “Well, we’ll wait a bit, then.”
“But why are you staying here? Why didn’t you make for the road up the mountain? What are you watching for, anyway?” asked Drake.
“Go to it, Ruth,” Ventnor grinned. “Tell ’em. After all — it was YOUR party you know.”
“Mart!” she cried, blushing.
“Well — it wasn’t ME they admired,” he laughed.
“Martin!” she cried again, and stamped her foot.
“Shoot,” he said. “I’m busy. I’ve got to watch.”
“Well”— Ruth’s voice was uncertain —“we’d been hunting up in Kashmir. Martin wanted to come over somewhere here. So we crossed the passes. That was about a month ago. The fourth day out we ran across what looked like a road running south.
“We thought we’d take it. It looked sort of old and lost — but it was going the way we wanted to go. It took us first into a country of little hills; then to the very base of the great range itself; finally into the mountains — and then it ran blank.”
“Bing!” interjected Ventnor, looking around for a moment. “Bing — just like that. Slap dash against a prodigious91 fall of rock. We couldn’t get over it.”
“So we cast about to find another road,” went on Ruth. “All we could strike were — just strikes.”
“No fish on the end of ’em,” said Ventnor. “God! But I’m glad to see you, Walter Goodwin. Believe me, I am. However — go on, Ruth.”
“At the end of the second week,” she said, “we knew we were lost. We were deep in the heart of the range. All around us was a forest of enormous, snow-topped peaks. The gorges92, the canyons93, the valleys that we tried led us east and west, north and south.
“It was a maze94, and in it we seemed to be going ever deeper. There was not the SLIGHTEST sign of human life. It was as though no human beings except ourselves had ever been there. Game was plentiful95. We had no trouble in getting food. And sooner or later, of course, we were bound to find our way out. We didn’t worry.
“It was five nights ago that we camped at the head of a lovely little valley. There was a mound96 that stood up like a tiny watch-tower, looking down it. The trees grew round like tall sentinels.
“We built our fire in that mound; and after we had eaten, Martin slept. I sat watching the beauty of the skies and of the shadowy vale. I heard no one approach — but something made me leap to my feet, look behind me.
“A man was standing90 just within the glow of firelight, watching me.”
“A Tibetan?” I asked. She shook her head, trouble in her eyes.
“Not at all.” Ventnor turned his head. “Ruth screamed and awakened me. I caught a glimpse of the fellow before he vanished.
“A short purple mantle97 hung from his shoulders. His chest was covered with fine chain mail. His legs were swathed and bound by the thongs98 of his high buskins. He carried a small, round, hide-covered shield and a short two-edged sword. His head was helmeted. He belonged, in fact — oh, at least twenty centuries back.”
He laughed in plain enjoyment99 of our amazement100.
“Go on, Ruth,” he said, and took up his watch.
“But Martin did not see his face,” she went on. “And oh, but I wish I could forget it. It was as white as mine, Walter, and cruel, so cruel; the eyes glowed and they looked upon me like a — like a slave dealer101. They shamed me — I wanted to hide myself.
“I cried out and Martin awakened. As he moved, the
man stepped out of the light and was gone. I think he had
not seen Martin; had believed that I was alone.
“We put out the fire, moved farther into the shadow of the trees. But I could not sleep — I sat hour after hour, my pistol in my hand,” she patted the automatic in her belt, “my rifle close beside me.
“The hours went by — dreadfully. At last I dozed102. When I awakened again it was dawn — and — and —” she covered her eyes, then: “TWO men were looking down on me. One was he who had stood in the firelight.”
“They were talking,” interrupted Ventnor again, “in archaic103 Persian.”
“Persian,” I repeated blankly; “archaic Persian?”
“Very much so,” he nodded. “I’ve a fair knowledge of the modern tongue, and a rather unusual command of Arabic. The modern Persian, as you know, comes straight through from the speech of Xerxes, of Cyrus, of Darius whom Alexander of Macedon conquered. It has been changed mainly by taking on a load of Arabic words. Well — there wasn’t a trace of the Arabic in the tongue they were speaking.
“It sounded odd, of course — but I could understand quite easily. They were talking about Ruth. To be explicit104, they were discussing her with exceeding frankness —”
“Martin!” she cried wrathfully.
“Well, all right,” he went on, half repentantly. “As a matter of fact, I had seen the pair steal up. My rifle was under my hand. So I lay there quietly, listening.
“You can realize, Walter, that when I caught sight of those two, looking as though they had materialized from Darius’s ghostly hordes105, my scientific curiosity was aroused — prodigiously106. So in my interest I passed over the matter of their speech; not alone because I thought Ruth asleep but also because I took into consideration that the mode of polite expression changes with the centuries — and these gentlemen clearly belonged at least twenty centuries back — the real truth is I was consumed with curiosity.
“They had got to a point where they were detailing with what pleasure a certain mysterious person whom they seemed to regard with much fear and respect would contemplate107 her. I was wondering how long my desire to observe — for to the anthropologist108 they were most fascinating — could hold my hand back from my rifle when Ruth awakened.
“She jumped up like a little fury. Fired a pistol point blank at them. Their amazement was — well — ludicrous. I know it seems incredible, but they seemed to know nothing of firearms — they certainly acted as though they didn’t.
“They simply flew into the timber. I took a pistol shot at one but missed. Ruth hadn’t though; she had winged her man; he left a red trail behind him.
“We didn’t follow the trail. We made for the opposite direction — and as fast as possible.
“Nothing happened that day or night. Next morning, creeping up a slope, we caught sight of a suspicious glitter a mile or two away in the direction we were going. We sought shelter in a small ravine. In a little while, over the hill and half a mile away from us, came about two hundred of these fellows, marching along.
“And they were indeed Darius’s men. Men of that Persia which had been dead for millenniums. There was no mistaking them, with their high, covering shields, their great bows, their javelins109 and armor.
“They passed; we doubled. We built no fires that night — and we ought to have turned the pony110 loose, but we didn’t. It carried my instruments, and ammunition, and I felt we were going to need the latter.
“The next morning we caught sight of another band — or the same. We turned again. We stole through a tree-covered plain; we struck an ancient road. It led south, into the peaks again. We followed it. It brought us here.
“It isn’t, as you observe, the most comfortable of places. We struck across the hollow to the crevice — we knew nothing of the entrance you came through. The hollow was not pleasant, either. But it was penetrable111, then.
“We crossed. As we were about to enter the cleft there issued out of it a most unusual and disconcerting chorus of sounds — wailings, crashings, splinterings.”
I started, shot a look at Dick; absorbed, he was drinking in Ventnor’s every word.
“So unusual, so — well, disconcerting is the best word I can think of, that we were not encouraged to proceed. Also the peculiar112 unpleasantness of the hollow was increasing rapidly.
“We made the best time we could back to the fortress. And when next we tried to go through the hollow, to search for another outlet113 — we couldn’t. You know why,” he ended abruptly.
“But men in ancient armor. Men like those of Darius.” Dick broke the silence that had followed this amazing recital114. “It’s incredible!”
“Yes,” agreed Ventnor, “isn’t it. But there they were. Of course, I don’t maintain that they WERE relics115 of Darius’s armies. They might have been of Xerxes before him — or of Artaxerxes after him. But there they certainly were, Drake, living, breathing replicas116 of exceedingly ancient Persians.
“Why, they might have been the wall carvings on the tomb of Khosroes come to life. I mention Darius because he fits in with the most plausible117 hypothesis. When Alexander the Great smashed his empire he did it rather thoroughly118. There wasn’t much sympathy for the vanquished119 in those days. And it’s entirely120 conceivable that a city or two in Alexander’s way might have gathered up a fleeting121 regiment122 or so for protection and have decided123 not to wait for him, but to hunt for cover.
“Naturally, they would have gone into the almost inaccessible124 heart of the high ranges. There is nothing impossible in the theory that they found shelter at last up here. As long as history runs this has been a well-nigh unknown land. Penetrating125 some mountain-guarded, easily defended valley they might have decided to settle down for a time, have rebuilt a city, raised a government; laying low, in a sentence, waiting for the storm to blow over.
“Why did they stay? Well, they might have found the new life more pleasant than the old. And they might have been locked in their valley by some accident — landslides126, rockfalls sealing up the entrance. There are a dozen reasonable possibilities.”
“But those who hunted you weren’t locked in,” objected Drake.
“No,” Ventnor grinned ruefully. “No, they certainly weren’t. Maybe we drifted into their preserves by a way they don’t know. Maybe they’ve found another way out. I’m sure I don’t know. But I DO know what I saw.”
“The noises, Martin,” I said, for his description of these had been the description of those we had heard in the blue valley. “Have you heard them since?”
“Yes,” he answered, hesitating oddly.
“And you think those — those soldiers you saw are still hunting for you?”
“Haven’t a doubt of it,” he replied more cheerfully. “They didn’t look like chaps who would give up a hunt easily — at least not a hunt for such novel, interesting, and therefore desirable and delectable127 game as we must have appeared to them.”
“Martin,” I said decisively, “where’s your pony? We’ll try the hollow again, at once. There’s Ruth — and we’d never be able to hold back such numbers as you’ve described.”
“You feel strong enough to try it?”
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收听单词发音
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1
niche
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| n.壁龛；合适的职务(环境、位置等) | |
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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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cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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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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6
hardier
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| 能吃苦耐劳的，坚强的( hardy的比较级 )； （植物等）耐寒的 | |
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larder
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| n.食物贮藏室，食品橱 | |
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gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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canyon
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| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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rims
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| n.（圆形物体的）边( rim的名词复数 )；缘；轮辋；轮圈 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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opalescent
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| adj.乳色的，乳白的 | |
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glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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lessening
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| 减轻，减少，变小 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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pellucid
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| adj.透明的，简单的 | |
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limpid
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| adj.清澈的，透明的 | |
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crepuscular
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| adj.晨曦的；黄昏的；昏暗的 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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orchids
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| n.兰花( orchid的名词复数 ) | |
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carmine
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| n.深红色，洋红色 | |
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fungus
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| n.真菌，真菌类植物 | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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verdant
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| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
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tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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weirdly
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| 古怪地 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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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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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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42
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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43
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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44
apertures
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| n.孔( aperture的名词复数 )；隙缝；（照相机的）光圈；孔径 | |
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45
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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46
bleached
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| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
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47
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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48
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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49
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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50
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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51
ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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52
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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53
carvings
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| n.雕刻( carving的名词复数 )；雕刻术；雕刻品；雕刻物 | |
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54
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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55
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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56
swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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57
eddying
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| 涡流，涡流的形成 | |
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58
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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59
engulfing
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| adj.吞噬的v.吞没，包住( engulf的现在分词 ) | |
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60
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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62
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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63
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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64
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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65
buffeting
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| 振动 | |
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66
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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67
lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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68
vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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69
waned
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| v.衰落( wane的过去式和过去分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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70
maelstrom
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| n.大乱动；大漩涡 | |
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71
swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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72
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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73
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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74
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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75
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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76
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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77
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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78
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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insinuatingly
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80
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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81
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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82
debris
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| n.瓦砾堆，废墟，碎片 | |
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83
perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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84
windings
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| （道路、河流等）蜿蜒的，弯曲的( winding的名词复数 )； 缠绕( wind的现在分词 )； 卷绕； 转动（把手） | |
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85
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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86
crevice
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| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
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87
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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88
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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89
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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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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92
gorges
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| n.山峡，峡谷( gorge的名词复数 )；咽喉v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的第三人称单数 )；作呕 | |
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93
canyons
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| n.峡谷( canyon的名词复数 ) | |
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94
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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95
plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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96
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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97
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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98
thongs
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| 的东西 | |
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99
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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100
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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101
dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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102
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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103
archaic
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| adj.(语言、词汇等)古代的，已不通用的 | |
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104
explicit
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| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
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105
hordes
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| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
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106
prodigiously
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| adv.异常地，惊人地，巨大地 | |
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107
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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108
anthropologist
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| n.人类学家，人类学者 | |
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109
javelins
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| n.标枪( javelin的名词复数 ) | |
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110
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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111
penetrable
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| adj.可穿透的 | |
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112
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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113
outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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114
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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115
relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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116
replicas
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| n.复制品( replica的名词复数 ) | |
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117
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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118
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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119
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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120
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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121
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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122
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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123
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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124
inaccessible
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| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
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125
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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126
landslides
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| 山崩( landslide的名词复数 )； （山坡、悬崖等的）崩塌； 滑坡； （竞选中）一方选票占压倒性多数 | |
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127
delectable
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| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
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