A short time before our adventure with the native we had seen three pelicans8 coming from the north. They kept very low to the ground, and wheeled along in circles in a very remarkable9 manner, as if they had just risen from water; but at length they soared upwards10, and flew straight for the lagoon11 where we had left the natives. With the exception of these three birds, no other was to be seen in those dreary12 regions. Both Mr. Browne and I, however, rode over a snake, but our horses fortunately escaped being bitten; this animal had seized a mouse, which it let go on being disturbed, and crept into a hole; it was very pretty, being of a bright yellow colour with brown specks13. Arriving at the termination of the sand hills, we looked down upon an immense shallow basin, extending to the north and south-east further than the range of vision, which must, I should imagine, be wholly impassable during the rainy season. There was scarcely any vegetation, a proof, it struck me, that it retains water on its surface till the summer is so advanced that the sun’s rays are too powerful for any plants that may spring up, or that the heat bakes the soil so that nothing can force itself through. There was little, if any grass to be seen; but the mesembryanthemum reappeared upon it, with other salsolaceous plants. The former was of a new variety, with flowers on a long slender stalk, heaps of which had been gathered by the natives for the seed. Of the timber of these regions there was none; a few gum-trees near the creeks14, with box-trees on the flats, and a few stunted15 acacia and hakea on the small hills, constituted almost the whole. Water boiled on this plain at 212 degrees; that is to say at our camp were we slept, about two miles advanced into it, but the plain extended about five miles further to the eastward. After crossing this on the following morning, we traversed a country which Mr. Browne informed me was very similar to that near Lake Torrens. It consisted of sand banks, or drifts, with large bare patches at intervals16: the whole bearing testimony17 to the violence of the rains that must sometimes deluge18 it. We then traversed a succession of flats (I call them so because they did not deserve the name of plains) separated from each other by patches of red sand and clay, that were not more than a foot and a half above the surface of the flats. At nine miles the country became covered with low scrub, and we soon after passed the dry bed of a lagoon, about a mile in circumference19, on which there was a coating of salt and gypsum resting on soft black mud. About a mile from this we passed a new tree, similar to one we had seen on the Cawndilla plain. From this point the land imperceptibly rose, until at length we found ourselves on some sandy elevations20 thickly covered with scrub of acacia, almost all dead, but there was a good deal of grass around them, and the spot might at another season, and if the trees had been in leaf, have looked pretty. We pushed through this scrub, the soil being a bright red sand for nine miles, when we suddenly found ourselves at the base of a small stony21 hill, of about fifty feet in height. From the summit we overlooked the region round about. To the eastward, as a medium point, it was covered with a dense22 scrub, that extended to the base of a range of hills, distant about 33 miles, the extremities23 of which bore 71 degrees and 152 degrees respectively from us. But although the country under them was covered with brush, the hills appeared to be clear and denuded24 of brushes of any kind. Our position here was about 138 miles from the Darling, and about 97 from the Depot25. My object in this excursion had been to ascertain26 the characteristic of the country between us and the Darling, but I did not think it necessary to run any risks with my horses, by pushing on for the hills, as I could not have reached them until late the following day, when in the event of not finding water, their fate would have been sealed; for we could not have returned with them to the creek. They had already been two days without, if I except the little we had spared them from the casks. I had deemed it prudent27 to send Joseph and Lewis back to the creek for a fresh supply, with orders to return and meet at a certain point, and there to await our arrival, for without this supply I felt satisfied we should have great difficulty as it was in getting our animals back to the creek. We descended28 from the hill therefore to some green looking trees, of a foliage29 new to me, to rest for an hour before we turned back again. There were neither flowers or fruit on the trees, but from their leaf and habit, I took them to be a species of the Juglans. At sunset we mounted our horses and travelled to the edge of the acacia scrub to give our horses some of the grass, and halted in it for the night, but started early on the following morning to meet Joseph. We reached the appointed place, about 10, but not finding him there continued to journey onwards, and at five miles met him. We then stopped and gave the horses 12 gallons of water each, after which we tethered them out, but they were so restless that I determined30 to mount them, and pushing on reached the creek at half-past 1, a.m. The animals requiring rest I remained stationary31 the next day, and was myself glad to keep in the shade, not that the day was particularly hot, but because I began to feel the effects of constant exposure. Having expressed some opinion, however, that there might have been water to the north of us, in the direction whence the pelicans came, Mr. Browne volunteered to ride out, and accordingly with Flood left me about 10, but returned late in the afternoon without having found any. He ascertained32 that the creek I had sent Flood to trace when Mr. Stuart went to sketch33 in the ranges, terminated in the barren plain we had crossed, and such, the reader will observe, is the general termination of all the creeks of these singular and depressed34 regions.
We returned to the camp on the 21st, and from that period to the end of the month I remained stationary, employed in various ways. On the 24th and 29th we took different sets of lunars, which gave our longitude35 as before, nearly 141 degrees 29 minutes, the variation of the compass being 5 degrees 14 minutes East.
The month of April set in without any indication of a change in the weather. It appeared as if the flood gates of Heaven were closed upon us for ever. We now began to feel the effects of disappointment, and watched the sky with extreme anxiety, inso-much that the least cloud raised all our hopes. The men were employed in various ways to keep them in health. We planted seeds in the bed of the creek, but the sun burnt them to cinders36 the moment they appeared above the ground. On the evening of the 3rd there was distant thunder, and heavy clouds to the westward37. I thought it might have been that some shower had approached sufficiently38 near for me to benefit by the surface water it would have left to push towards Lake Torrens, and therefore mounted my horse and rode away to the westward on the 4th, but returned on the night of the 7th in disappointment. Time rolled on fast, and still we were unable to stir. Mr. Piesse, who took great delight in strolling out with my gun, occasionally shot a new bird.
On the 4th the wind blew strong from the south; but although the air was cooled, no rain fell, nor indeed was there any likelihood of rain with the wind in that quarter. Still as this was the first decided39 shift from the points to which it had kept so steadily40, we augured41 good from it. On the 7th a very bright meteor was seen to burst in the south-east quarter of the heavens; crossing the sky with a long train of light, and in exploding seemed to form numerous stars. Whether it was fancy or not we thought the temperature cooled down from this period. On this day also we had a change of moon, but neither produced a variation of wind or weather of any immediate42 benefit to us. On the 14th we tried to ascertain the dew point, but failed, as in previous instances. The thermometer in our underground room stood at 78 degrees of Farenheit, but we could not reduce the moist bulb below 49 degrees; nor was I surprised at this, considering we had not had rain for nearly four months, and that during our stay at the Depot we had never experienced a dew. The ground was thoroughly43 heated to the depth of three or four feet, and the tremendous heat that prevailed had parched44 vegetation and drawn45 moisture from everything. In an air so rarified, and an atmosphere so dry, it was hardly to be expected that any experiment upon it would be attended with its usual results, or that the particles of moisture so far separated, could be condensed by ordinary methods. The mean of the thermometer for the months of December, January, and February, had been 101 degrees, 104 degrees, and 101 degrees respectively in the shade. Under its effects every screw in our boxes had been drawn, and the horn handles of our instruments, as well as our combs, were split into fine laminae. The lead dropped out of our pencils, our signal rockets were entirely46 spoiled; our hair, as well as the wool on the sheep, ceased to grow, and our nails had become as brittle47 as glass. The flour lost more than eight per cent of its original weight, and the other provisions in a still greater proportion. The bran in which our bacon had been packed, was perfectly48 saturated49, and weighed almost as heavy as the meat; we were obliged to bury our wax candles; a bottle of citric acid in Mr. Browne’s box became fluid, and escaping, burnt a quantity of his linen50; and we found it difficult to write or draw, so rapidly did the fluid dry in our pens and brushes. It was happy for us, therefore, that a cooler season set in, otherwise I do not think that many of us could much longer have survived. But, although it might be said that the intense heat of the summer had passed, there still were intervals of most oppressive weather.
About the beginning of March I had had occasion to speak to Mr. Browne as to certain indications of disease that were upon me. I had violent headaches, unusual pains in my joints51, and a coppery taste in my mouth. These symptoms I attributed to having slept so frequently on the hard ground and in the beds of creeks, and it was only when my mouth became sore, and my gums spongy, that I felt it necessary to trouble Mr. Browne, who at once told me that I was labouring under an attack of scurvy52, and I regretted to learn from him that both he and Mr. Poole were similarly affected53, but they hoped I had hitherto escaped. Mr. Browne was the more surprised at my case, as I was very moderate in my diet, and had taken but little food likely to cause such a malady54. Of we three Mr. Poole suffered most, and gradually declined in health. For myself I immediately took double precautions, and although I could not hope soon to shake off such a disease, especially under such unfavourable circumstances as those in which we were placed, I was yet thankful that I did not become worse. For Mr. Browne, as he did not complain, I had every hope that he too had succeeded in arresting the progress of this fearful distemper. It will naturally occur to the reader as singular, that the officers only should have been thus attacked; but the fact is, that they had been constantly absent from the camp, and had therefore been obliged to use bacon, whereas the men were living on fresh mutton; besides, the same men were seldom taken on a second journey, but were allowed time to recover from the exposure to which they had been subjected, but for the officers there was no respite56.
On the 18th the wind, which had again settled in the S.E. changed to the N.E., and the sky became generally overcast57. Heavy clouds hung over the Mount Serle chain, and I thought that rain would have fallen, but all these favourable55 indications vanished before sunset. At dawn of the morning of the 19th, dense masses of clouds were seen, and thunder heard to the west; and the wind shifting to that quater, we hoped that some of the clouds would have been blown over to us, but they kept their place for two days, and then gradually disappeared. These distant indications, however, were sufficient to rouse us to exertion58, in the hope of escaping from the fearful captivity59 in which we had so long been held. I left the camp on the 21st with Mr. Browne and Flood, thinking that rain might have extended to the eastward from Mount Serle, sufficiently near to enable us to push into the N.W. interior, and as it appeared to me that a W. by N. course would take me abreast60 of Mount Hopeless, I ran upon it. At 16 miles I ascended61 a low range, but could not observe anything from it to the westward but scrub. Descending62 from this range we struck the head of a creek, and at six miles came on the last dregs of a pool of water, so thick that it was useless to us. We next crossed barren stony undulations and open plains, some of them apparently63 subject to floods; and halted at half-past six, after a journey of between thirty and forty miles without water, and with very little grass for our horses to eat. Although the course we kept, had taken us at times to a considerable distance from the creek, we again came on it before sunset, and consequently halted upon its banks; but in tracing it down on the following morning we lost its channel on an extensive plain, and therefore continued our journey to the westward. At seven miles we entered a dense scrub, and at fifteen ascended a sand hill, from which we expected to have had a more than usually extensive view, but it was limited to the next sand hill, nor was there the slightest prospect64 of a change of country being at hand. At four miles from this position we came upon a second creek seemingly from the N.E., whose appearance raised our hopes of obtaining water; but as its channel became sandy, and turned southwards, I left it, and once more running on our old course, pulled up at sunset under a bank of sand, without anything either for ourselves or our horses to drink. During the latter part of the evening we had observed a good deal of grass on the sand hills, nor was there any deficiency of it round our bivouac; but, notwithstanding that there was more than enough for the few horses we had, a herd65 of cattle would have discussed the whole in a night. It was evident from the state of the ground that no rain had fallen hereabouts, and I consequently began to doubt whether it had extended beyond the mountains. Comparing the appearance of the country we were in, with that through which Mr. Browne passed for 50 miles before he came upon Lake Torrens, and concluding that some such similar change would have taken place here if we had approached within any reasonable distance of that basin, I could not but apprehend66 that we were still a long way from it.
The horses having refused the water we had found in the creek, I could hardly expect they would drink it on their return, so that I calculated our distance from water at about 68 miles; and I foresaw that unless we should succeed in finding some early in the day following, it would be necessary for us to make for the Depot again. Close to where we stopped there was a large burrow67 of Talperos, an animal, as I have observed, similar to the rabbit in its habits, and one of which the natives are very fond, as food. The sandy ridges appeared to be full of them, and other animals, that must live for many months at a time without water. Whilst we were sitting in the dusk near our fire, two beautiful parrots attracted by it, I suppose, pitched close to us; but immediately took wing again, and flew away to the N.W. They, no doubt, thought that we were near water, but like ourselves were doomed68 to disappointment. During the evening also some plovers69 flew over us, and we heard some native dogs howling to the south-west. At daylight, therefore, we rode in that direction, with the hope of finding the element we now so much required. At three miles a large grassy70 flat opened out to view upon our right, similar to that at the termination of the Depot creek. It might have contained 1000 acres, but there was not at the first glance, a tree to be seen upon it This flat was bounded to the S.W. by a sand bank, lying at right angles to the sand ridges we had been crossing. The latter, therefore, ran down upon this bank in parallel, lines, some falling short of, and others striking it; so that, as the drainage was towards the embankment, the collected waters lodged71 against it. After crossing a portion of the plain we saw some box-trees in a hollow, towards which we rode, and then came upon a deep dry pond, in whose bottom the natives had dug several wells, and had evidently lingered near it as long as a drop of water remained. It was now clear that our further search for water would be useless. I therefore turned on a course of 12 degrees to the north of east for the muddy water we had passed two days before, and halted there about an hour after sunset, having journeyed 42 miles. We fell into our tracks going out about four miles before we halted, and were surprised to observe that a solitary72 native had been running them down. On riding a little further however, we noticed several tracks of different sizes, as if a family of natives had been crossing the country to the north-west. It is more than probable that their water having failed in the hills, they were on their way to some other place where they had a well.
Although we had ourselves been without water for two days, the mud in the creek was so thick that I could not swallow it, and was really astonished how Mr. Browne managed to drink a pint73 of it made into tea. It absolutely fell over the cup of the panakin like thick cream, and stuck to the horses’ noses like pipe-clay. They drank sparingly however, and took but little grass during the night. As we pursued our journey homewards on the following day, we passed several flights of dotterel making to the south, this being the first migration74 we had observed in that direction. These birds were in great numbers on the plains of Adelaide the year preceding, and had afforded good sport to my friend Torrens; we also observed a flight of pelicans, wheeling about close to the ground, as they had before done to the eastward, as well as a flight of the black-shouldered hawks75 hovering76 in the air. Our day’s ride had been very long and fatiguing77, as the horses were tired, but we got relieved by our arrival at the camp a little before sunset on the 25th: and thus terminated another journey in disappointment. We regretted to find that Mr. Poole was seriously indisposed. His muscles were now attacked and he was suffering great pain, but, as the disease appeared inclined to make to the surface, Mr. Browne had some hopes of a favourable change. Both Mr. Browne and myself found that the sameness of our diet began to disagree with us, and were equally anxious for the reappearance of vegetation, in the hope that we should be able to collect sow-thistles or the tender shoots of the rhagodia as a change. We had, whilst it lasted, taken mint tea, in addition to the scanty78 supply of tea to which we were obliged to limit ourselves, but I do not think it was wholesome79.
点击收听单词发音
1 creek | |
n.小溪,小河,小湾 | |
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2 eastward | |
adv.向东;adj.向东的;n.东方,东部 | |
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3 ridges | |
n.脊( ridge的名词复数 );山脊;脊状突起;大气层的)高压脊 | |
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4 ascending | |
adj.上升的,向上的 | |
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5 secreted | |
v.(尤指动物或植物器官)分泌( secrete的过去式和过去分词 );隐匿,隐藏 | |
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6 adroitly | |
adv.熟练地,敏捷地 | |
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7 uncouth | |
adj.无教养的,粗鲁的 | |
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8 pelicans | |
n.鹈鹕( pelican的名词复数 ) | |
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9 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
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10 upwards | |
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
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11 lagoon | |
n.泻湖,咸水湖 | |
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12 dreary | |
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
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13 specks | |
n.眼镜;斑点,微粒,污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
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14 creeks | |
n.小湾( creek的名词复数 );小港;小河;小溪 | |
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15 stunted | |
adj.矮小的;发育迟缓的 | |
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16 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
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17 testimony | |
n.证词;见证,证明 | |
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18 deluge | |
n./vt.洪水,暴雨,使泛滥 | |
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19 circumference | |
n.圆周,周长,圆周线 | |
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20 elevations | |
(水平或数量)提高( elevation的名词复数 ); 高地; 海拔; 提升 | |
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21 stony | |
adj.石头的,多石头的,冷酷的,无情的 | |
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22 dense | |
a.密集的,稠密的,浓密的;密度大的 | |
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23 extremities | |
n.端点( extremity的名词复数 );尽头;手和足;极窘迫的境地 | |
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24 denuded | |
adj.[医]变光的,裸露的v.使赤裸( denude的过去式和过去分词 );剥光覆盖物 | |
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25 depot | |
n.仓库,储藏处;公共汽车站;火车站 | |
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26 ascertain | |
vt.发现,确定,查明,弄清 | |
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27 prudent | |
adj.谨慎的,有远见的,精打细算的 | |
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28 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
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29 foliage | |
n.叶子,树叶,簇叶 | |
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30 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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31 stationary | |
adj.固定的,静止不动的 | |
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32 ascertained | |
v.弄清,确定,查明( ascertain的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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33 sketch | |
n.草图;梗概;素描;v.素描;概述 | |
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34 depressed | |
adj.沮丧的,抑郁的,不景气的,萧条的 | |
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35 longitude | |
n.经线,经度 | |
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36 cinders | |
n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 );炭渣;煤渣路;煤渣跑道 | |
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37 westward | |
n.西方,西部;adj.西方的,向西的;adv.向西 | |
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38 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
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39 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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40 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
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41 augured | |
v.预示,预兆,预言( augur的过去式和过去分词 );成为预兆;占卜 | |
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42 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
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43 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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44 parched | |
adj.焦干的;极渴的;v.(使)焦干 | |
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45 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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46 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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47 brittle | |
adj.易碎的;脆弱的;冷淡的;(声音)尖利的 | |
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48 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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49 saturated | |
a.饱和的,充满的 | |
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50 linen | |
n.亚麻布,亚麻线,亚麻制品;adj.亚麻布制的,亚麻的 | |
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51 joints | |
接头( joint的名词复数 ); 关节; 公共场所(尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所) (非正式); 一块烤肉 (英式英语) | |
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52 scurvy | |
adj.下流的,卑鄙的,无礼的;n.坏血病 | |
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53 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
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54 malady | |
n.病,疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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55 favourable | |
adj.赞成的,称赞的,有利的,良好的,顺利的 | |
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56 respite | |
n.休息,中止,暂缓 | |
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57 overcast | |
adj.阴天的,阴暗的,愁闷的;v.遮盖,(使)变暗,包边缝;n.覆盖,阴天 | |
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58 exertion | |
n.尽力,努力 | |
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59 captivity | |
n.囚禁;被俘;束缚 | |
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60 abreast | |
adv.并排地;跟上(时代)的步伐,与…并进地 | |
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61 ascended | |
v.上升,攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62 descending | |
n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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63 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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64 prospect | |
n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
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65 herd | |
n.兽群,牧群;vt.使集中,把…赶在一起 | |
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66 apprehend | |
vt.理解,领悟,逮捕,拘捕,忧虑 | |
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67 burrow | |
vt.挖掘(洞穴);钻进;vi.挖洞;翻寻;n.地洞 | |
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68 doomed | |
命定的 | |
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69 plovers | |
n.珩,珩科鸟(如凤头麦鸡)( plover的名词复数 ) | |
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70 grassy | |
adj.盖满草的;长满草的 | |
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71 lodged | |
v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 );暂住;埋入;(权利、权威等)归属 | |
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72 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
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73 pint | |
n.品脱 | |
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74 migration | |
n.迁移,移居,(鸟类等的)迁徙 | |
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75 hawks | |
鹰( hawk的名词复数 ); 鹰派人物,主战派人物 | |
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76 hovering | |
鸟( hover的现在分词 ); 靠近(某事物); (人)徘徊; 犹豫 | |
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77 fatiguing | |
a.使人劳累的 | |
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78 scanty | |
adj.缺乏的,仅有的,节省的,狭小的,不够的 | |
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79 wholesome | |
adj.适合;卫生的;有益健康的;显示身心健康的 | |
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