He found Tug2 rewinding his split bamboo and Billy Buxby assisting with a ceaseless stream of unheeded advice.
“Behold the mighty3 hunter!” exclaimed Billy with an exaggerated bow of mock deference4 as Walter entered.
[162] “What luck?” asked Tug, as he tied the final knot and reached for the shellac.
Walter rapidly sketched5 a brief account of his two days at Lonesome Pond, but in his enthusiasm over the deer hunt forgot to mention his double catch of trout6. “Anything new here?” he asked finally.
Tug shook his head. “Nothin’ much. Harrison came in with a three-pound brook7 trout this morning, and unless some one gets in to-night with something better that will give the Senecas the score for this week. Say, the gloom in this little old shanty8 is something fierce. If it was any one but Harrison there’d be no kick comin’. He’s gettin’ such a swelled9 head he can’t see anybody outside his own tribe. I’d like to punch it for him,” growled10 Tug savagely11.
“Say,” he added as he looked up, “what’s the matter with you, you grinning Cheshire cat?”
“Nothing much,” replied Walter, “only day before yesterday I landed a double, for a total of five pounds; brook trout, too.”
Tug and Billy fell on him as one. “Say it again! Say it again!” begged Tug as they pinned Walter to the floor and sat on him.
[163] “I got two trout at one cast, and they weighed five pounds. Does that beat it?” gasped12 Walter, giving up the struggle.
“Counts same as one fish,” whooped13 Billy joyously14.
“Well, we win anyway, for one of them weighed over three and a half,” said Walter, giving a sudden heave that sent Billy sprawling15. “Now what’s the matter, you old gloom chaser?”
“Walt, you ain’t foolin’, are you? Tell me, you rabbit-footed tenderfoot, have you got proof?” implored16 Tug.
“Big Jim’s word for it, and a photo,” replied Walter.
Tug’s face cleared. “That’s good enough. Oh, my eye, wait till that record is posted to-night!” he chortled.
Tug was not disappointed. The record held, and the Delawares celebrated17 that night with a bonfire and war dance in which Walter, to his confusion, found himself the central figure. Harrison’s chagrin18 was too evident to escape notice, and his defeat was rubbed in with a malice19 born of his growing unpopularity.
[164] The next morning when Walter met him and offered his hand Hal passed on as if the other lad were a stick or a stone. The insult was witnessed by several Delawares and by members of Hal’s own tribe. That night a meeting of indignation was held by the Delawares, and in spite of Walter’s protest and the efforts of Woodhull and one or two of the older boys, it was voted to send Harrison to Coventry so far as the Delawares were concerned, that is, he was not to be spoken to or recognized in any way.
In his own wigwam Hal was only a degree less unpopular. The leaders tried to induce him to make an apology, pointing out to him that he was violating both the spirit and word of the Scout21’s oath, but the effort was without avail. The high-strung, undisciplined boy, accustomed from babyhood to having his own way, fawned22 upon by all with whom he had hitherto come in contact because of his father’s great wealth, was utterly23 unable to adjust himself to the new conditions which surrounded him, to the democracy of which he was now a part yet of which he had no understanding. So he went his headstrong way, [165] and if in his heart were bitterness and misery25 he made no sign.
The Senecas stood by him with half-hearted loyalty26 because he was a fellow tribesman, but there was not one whom he could call a friend. So he became more and more isolated27, spending his days fishing, the proudest, loneliest boy in all the big camp. The fact that he continued to score with big fish gave him a measure of standing24 with his tribe, and to maintain this became his chief object in the daily life.
Walter was thinking of this and wondering what the outcome would be as early one morning he headed his canoe for a setback28 some three miles from camp, which he had discovered the day before. The entrance was so hidden in a tangle29 of alders30 and brush that it was only with the greatest difficulty that he could pick out the channel. He had passed the spot dozens of times without suspecting that anything lay beyond.
Patiently and carefully he worked his way through the tangle, once having to get out and lift the canoe over a jam of a dozen stranded32 logs. Beyond this the channel was comparatively [166] clear. Unexpectedly it abruptly33 opened into a broad body of water perhaps half a mile long, deep in the middle, and with the upper end covered with an acre or more of lily-pads.
Walter’s eyes sparkled. “Gee34, I bet there’s pickerel in here!” he exclaimed, unconsciously speaking aloud.
“Bet yer life thar is,” said a voice with a chuckle35.
Walter turned to find a rude raft anchored behind the half submerged top of a fallen hemlock36, and on it sat Pat Malone, catching37 young striped perch38 for bait.
“Hello!” exclaimed Walter. “What are you doing here?”
“Seem ter be fishin’,” replied Pat, a broad grin spreading across his freckled39 face.
Walter grinned in return. “Well, what are you catching?” he asked.
“Mostly fish—some skeeters,” was the prompt retort.
Pat lifted a wriggling40 three-inch perch from the water. “Do you call that a fish?” asked Walter.
“Mebbe it is an’ mebbe it isn’t,” said the lumber41 boy as he dropped the victim into a [167] battered42 old pail half filled with water. “How about this?” He reached behind him and held up at arm’s length a huge pickerel.
Walter allowed a long low whistle of admiration43 escape him. “Are there any more like that in here?” he asked eagerly.
“Shure,” replied Pat. “That’s nothin’ but a minnie ’longside some old whopperlulus in here.”
“What’d you catch him with?”
“Bait an’ a hook an’ line.”
Walter laughed. “Pat, you win,” said he. “I don’t want any of your secrets, but I should like to catch just one fish like that one.”
A crafty45 look swept over the freckled face grinning across at him. “Yez licked me once.”
Walter nodded.
“An’ yez said that if iver yez had the chance yez’d show me some o’ thim thricks what done it.”
Again Walter nodded.
“Will yez do it now if Oi’ll show yez where thim big fish is an’ how ter ketch ’em?” asked Pat eagerly.
“I’ll do it anyway, and you don’t need to [168] show me anything about the fish,” replied Walter heartily46, driving the canoe ashore47 as he spoke20.
Together they forced their way through the underbrush until they found a cleared place. “This isn’t to be another fight?” asked Walter, a sudden suspicion flashing into his mind.
“Course it ain’t! What kind av a low-down hedgehog do ye take me fer, anyway?” retorted his companion indignantly.
Walter put out his hand and apologized promptly48, ashamed to think that he should have been guilty of entertaining such a thought. Then he began by briefly49 explaining the rules governing boxing, pointing out that a blow below the waist line constitutes a foul50, that a man knocked down is allowed ten seconds in which to get on his feet again, and during that time must not be touched by his opponent; that wrestling is not allowed, and that matches usually are conducted by rounds of three minutes each, with a minute for rest in between.
“No true sportsman will ever hit a man when he’s down,” concluded Walter.
[169] This was difficult for the backwoods boy to grasp, and it was equally hard for him to understand why in a fight he should not scratch, kick and gouge51, even use his teeth if opportunity offered, for in his hard life in the lumber camps he had witnessed many a rough and tumble fight where ethics52 are unknown, and where fighting men sink to the level of fighting beasts, employing every weapon with which nature has endowed them, and giving no mercy to a fallen foe53.
But Pat was blessed with a strong sense of fair play, and when he had fully31 grasped the meaning of the rules they appealed to him instantly. “’Tis jist a square deal both byes gits in a foight!” he exclaimed, a light breaking over his puzzled face.
Then Walter showed him a few of the simplest guards, how to parry an opponent’s blow with one arm while countering with the other, how to protect the body with elbows and forearms while the hands shield the face, how to step inside, and how to duck under a swing, how, by watching his opponent, to anticipate the coming blow and be prepared to avoid it. Lastly he showed him the art of [170] side-stepping, the little shift of the feet which while keeping the body perfectly54 poised55 allows the blow to pass harmlessly to one side or the other, at the same time opening an opportunity to counter on the opponent.
Naturally quick, and with an Irishman’s inborn56 love of battle, Pat picked up the points readily and when at the end of an hour Walter flung himself on the ground for a breathing spell Pat executed a double shuffle57.
“Shure it be the greatest dancin’ lesson av me loife!” he whooped joyously, side-stepping, ducking and lunging into empty space. “Come on, bye, come on! Oi can lick yez now! Come on, ye spalpeen! ’Tis Pat Malone will give yez the greatest lickin’ av yer life!”
Walter declined with thanks, lying back weak from laughter, while the young giant continued to dance around sparring, ducking and countering on an imaginary foe. “’Tis meself will clane out the Durant camp before anither sun is up as shure as Oi be the eldest58 son av me mither,” he chuckled59, flinging himself beside Walter from sheer exhaustion60.
When they had rested a bit Walter proposed that they go try the fish, and that Pat come [171] in his canoe. In an instant the young woodsman had forgotten his newly acquired accomplishments61, for a new idea had suddenly possessed62 him.
“Tell me, bye, what’s this about catchin’ the biggest fish at Woodcraft Camp?” he asked eagerly.
Walter explained the contest fully, and told how eager he was to score over the Senecas.
“’Tis aisy,” broke in Pat.
“What do you mean?” asked Walter, a bit puzzled.
Pat struck one side of his nose with a dirty forefinger63 and winked64 solemnly. “Oi wonder now, have yez forgot the big pickerel yez have lyin’ down on the raft? ’Twill weigh ten pounds if it weighs an ounce.”
“But that isn’t mine!” exclaimed Walter. “It’s yours.”
“Is ut now?” said Pat, scratching his head. “Shure Oi disremimber ketchin’ ut. Oi’m thinkin’ yez must hev caught ut in yer shlape an’ didn’t know ut.”
Walter laughed and thanked his companion heartily, while he refused the gift. Then seeing the look of hurt disappointment on Pat’s [172] face he hastened to make clear why he could not accept the fish. “You see,” he concluded, “a Scout’s honor is always to be trusted, and it would not be honorable to try to win with a fish I did not catch myself. A man’s honor is the greatest thing he possesses.”
The other pondered this in silence for a few minutes trying to adjust his mind to a new idea. When he spoke it was slowly, as one feeling his way.
“Yez mane that ter score wid thot fish would be loike hittin’ a man when he’s down, or shtalin’ from a blind pup.”
“Exactly,” replied Walter.
“An’ do all the other byes feel the same way?”
“Of course they do.”
“No they don’t! Anyway, there’s wan44 that doesn’t.”
“What do you mean?” cried Walter startled.
“Oi mane thot there’s wan dirty blackguard has been winnin’ points roight along wid Pat Malone’s fish. Oi mane thot thot spalpeen thot yez call Harrison, the wan with his pockets lined with money, has been buyin’ [173] me big fish fer the last mont’ an’ payin’ me good money fer ’em. Oi mane thot if yez hadn’t happened in here this marnin’ yez moight hev seen him luggin’ in thot big pickerel this very noight. ’Tis his last fish he’s had from me, the low-down blackguard.” Then he added ruefully: “Sure ’tis a glad day fer Pat Malone an’ a sorry wan fer his pockets ter hev found out what honor manes.”
The two boys returned to the canoe and spent the remainder of the morning in a vain attempt to land another big pickerel. When they parted it was with a mutual65 respect and liking66 and a promise on Walter’s part to return the next day in quest of the big fellows. “Oi’m goin’ ter hunt frogs fer bait this afternoon an’ Oi’ll be waitin’ fer ye at sunup,” were Pat’s parting words.
It was a sober boy who paddled back to Woodcraft that afternoon. What he had learned that morning filled him with mingled67 feelings of contempt and gladness—contempt, for the fellow Scout who had so perjured68 himself and violated his Scout’s oath, and gladness that his faith in the unkempt boy of the woods had been so fully justified69. Any lingering [174] doubt of Pat Malone’s innocence70 of the theft of Mother Merriam’s pin which he might have entertained had been banished71 by what he had learned of the boy that morning.
And in his own mind the boy was fighting a battle. Where lay the path of duty? What did his honor as a Scout demand of him? To go report what he had learned? To become a bearer of tales? The very thought was abhorrent72 to him! On the other hand had he any moral right to allow his fellow tribesmen to suffer through the dishonesty of which he held the proof? And Hal’s own tribesmen, was it fair to them to allow them to profit by points to which, though no fault of theirs, they had no right?
It was a relief to see Harrison’s canoe approaching the landing as he pulled his own out. He would put it up to Hal to do the square thing—redeem himself by playing the man for once.
“Hal,” said Walter in a low tone as the other landed, “I know where you get your fish.”
Hal turned and faced him. “What are you talking about?” he said roughly.
[175] Walter flushed and instinctively73 his fists doubled, but he kept a check on his temper. “You have bought your record fish of Pat Malone,” he said evenly.
It was the other’s turn to flush, but he maintained his air of bravado74.
“That’s silly,” he jeered75.
“No it isn’t, and you know it,” replied Walter.
“Well, what are you going to do about it?” asked the other sulkily, seeing that denial was useless.
“I don’t know,” replied Walter sadly. “Say, Hal, why don’t you go own up to Dr. Merriam and ask him to try and put you right with the fellows?”
“What do you take me for? I’m in bad enough now. If you don’t blab who’s going to know it? And if you turn telltale I guess my word’s as good as yours,” sneered76 Hal.
“For two cents I’d punch——” began Walter hotly, then pity for the unfortunate boy before him calmed him. “Hal, I’m not going to say anything to-night, anyway. Do the right thing. Remember your Scout’s oath,” he begged.
[176] “Remember it yourself,” growled Hal. “There’s mighty little honor in telling tales.” And with this parting shot he strode off to the wigwam.
Walter’s preoccupation and sober face were bound to attract the attention of his mates, and he came in for a lot of guying.
“Who is she, Walt?”
“Is her papa a big chief?”
“Take us round and give us a knock-down, Walt.”
“Romance of the big woods! Walt, the tenderfoot, falls in love with an Indian princess!”
Walter’s replies to all these sallies were only half-hearted, and seeing that something was really amiss with him the boys dropped their banter77. He retired78 to his bunk79 early, only to twist and toss uneasily all night long. Over and over till his brain grew weary he kept repeating the perplexing question, “Ought I to tell? Ought I to tell? Ought I to tell?”
The problem was no nearer a solution when in the gray of dawn he slipped a canoe into the water the next morning and turned her [177] bow toward the setback. Pat was waiting for him on the old raft and, true to his word, he had a pocket full of lively little frogs, which were giving him no end of trouble in their efforts to escape. Walter took him aboard, and they were soon skirting the lily-pads at the upper end.
Here Pat bade Walter rig his rod and, producing a lively green frog from his pocket, he impaled80 it on the hook by thrusting the barb81 through its lips, explaining that in this way the frog’s swimming was not seriously interfered82 with. He then took the paddle and handled the canoe while Walter cast. The frog had hardly struck the water before there was a swirl83 at the very edge of a patch of lily-pads followed by a strike that made the reel sing. A couple of good rushes and then, as is the way with pickerel, the fish was brought alongside with hardly a struggle. Pat deftly84 scooped85 it into the canoe and killed it with a blow that broke its spine86. It was fair for a beginning, weighing perhaps four pounds, and Walter prepared to try again.
For half an hour they worked along the pads, taking several smaller fish.
[178] At length they approached an outlying patch of pads where the water was deep and black. Two canoe lengths short of it Pat stopped the canoe. Then he sorted over his remaining supply of frogs till he found one that suited his critical fancy. With this he rebaited Walter’s hook. “Now, ye throw roight over ter the very edge o’ thim pads, and don’t ye be in no hurry,” he commanded.
The first cast was short, but at the second attempt the frog landed with a spat87 at the very edge of the pads and began to swim vigorously in an effort to reach and climb up on them. Suddenly the water fairly boiled, and Walter all but lost his balance and upset the canoe, so sudden and vicious was the strike.
“Ye have him! Ye have him! Shure ’tis the king av thim all, an’ ’tis mesilf that knows ut, for ’tis tree times thot the ould feller has walked off wid me line and hooks!” yelled Pat excitedly. “Don’t let him get foul o’ thim pads!”
Walter soon found that he had the fight of his life on to keep the wary88 old warrior89 in clear water, but inch by inch he worked the [179] fish away from the pads until finally he felt that the danger was past and that it was only a matter of time when the prize would be his. A few more heavy lunges, which threatened by the mere90 weight of the fish to break the slender rod, and the battle was over. Softly Pat slid his hand along till his stout91 fingers closed in the gills and the prize was in the canoe, where Pat speedily put an end to the snapping of its cruel looking jaws92 by severing93 the spinal94 cord with his knife.
Walter brought out his scales, and could hardly believe that he read them aright. “Thirteen pounds and a half!” he gasped.
“An’ there’s two av me hooks in his mouth, bad cess ter him,” said the matter-of-fact Pat, deftly extracting his property.
Pat was for trying for another big fellow, but Walter had had enough for that morning. Besides, he was anxious to show his prize at camp, so reeling in his line they started for the mouth of the backset.
“Pat, did Harrison ever have much luck in here?” asked Walter.
Pat stared at his companion for a minute before he found speech. “What, do ye mane [180] ter tell me ye be thinkin’ Oi iver showed him where Oi was ketching the fish he bought?” demanded Pat. “Not he nor any ither o’ the Woodcraft byes knows about this setback. ’Tis lucky ye was ter be findin’ the way in yer own self. Ye will kape ut ter yerself now, will ye not?”
Walter promised that he would.
“Say, bye, did ye tell the docther av the low-down thrick this Harrison has been afther playin’?” Pat suddenly inquired.
Walter confessed that he had not. Then in a sudden burst of confidence he told the Irish lad all about the dilemma95 in which he had become involved. “What would you do, Pat?” he concluded.
“Me? Shure Oi dunno at all, at all. Oi’m thinkin’ Oi’d side-step,” replied Pat, with a twinkle in his eyes.
“But that’s the trouble, I can’t side-step,” responded Walter.
The freckled face of the woods boy sobered. “’Tis a quare thing, this honor ye be tellin’ about, but Oi’m thinkin’ ’tis a moighty foine thing too,” he said. Then, his Irish humor rising to the surface, he added: “There be [181] wan thing Oi wud do; Oi’d knock the block clane off av that blackguard that’s made all the throuble.”
Walter laughed. “I’d like to,” he confessed.
They were now at the entrance and setting Pat ashore Walter turned his canoe toward camp. His arrival with the big pickerel, to say nothing of the smaller ones, created a wave of excitement among the boys who were in camp, and great jubilation96 among the Delawares. It happened that Harrison was among those present.
“So,” he sneered when no one was near, “you’ve tried the silver bait! How much did you pay for the bunch?”
Walter turned on his heel and walked away. All the joy of the day had vanished. He wanted to be alone to fight out to a finish the battle of honor. So immediately after noon mess he slipped away unseen, and sought the cool depths of the forest to find in the peace of the great woodland the solution of his difficulty.
Late that afternoon, his mind made up, he turned toward camp. As he approached he [182] became aware of an air of suppressed excitement about the camp. Buxby was the first to see him.
“Hi, Walt! Have you heard the news?” he shouted.
“No,” said Walter. “What is it?”
“The Senecas’ records have been wiped out; Harrison’s been buying those fish,” whooped Billy.
Walter’s first thought was that Hal had done the right thing and had confessed, and a great load fell from his shoulders. But Billy’s next words brought him up short.
“Pat Malone came in this afternoon and told the big chief that he’d been selling fish to Hal right along. Brought in what money he had left, and said he guessed it wasn’t quite the square thing for him to keep it. What do you think of that?”
“What did the doctor do?” asked Walter.
“Told Pat that as he had sold the fish in good faith the money was his, especially as the camp had had the benefit of them. Then he called Hal in and paid him back all that he had given Pat. Then he wiped out from the Senecas’ score all of Hal’s records. Don’t [183] know what he said to Hal, but the word’s been passed that the incident is closed. Gee, but I’d hate to feel the way Hal must! I guess Pat’s squared himself with the bunch on that pin business. A feller that would do what he did wouldn’t steal.”
After the first burst of indignation the feeling of the camp settled into contempt, mingled with pity, for the boy who had so besmirched97 his honor. No reference was ever made to his disgrace, but for the most part he was left severely98 alone, only a few, of whom Walter was one, endeavoring to hold out a helping99 hand. So the camp settled down to the usual routine once more.
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1
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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sketched
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| v.草拟（sketch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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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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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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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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whooped
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| 叫喊( whoop的过去式和过去分词 )； 高声说； 唤起 | |
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joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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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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scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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fawned
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| v.（尤指狗等）跳过来往人身上蹭以示亲热( fawn的过去式和过去分词 )；巴结；讨好 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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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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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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setback
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| n.退步，挫折，挫败 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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alders
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| n.桤木( alder的名词复数 ) | |
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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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stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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35
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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36
hemlock
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| n.毒胡萝卜，铁杉 | |
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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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perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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crafty
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| adj.狡猾的，诡诈的 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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51
gouge
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| v.凿；挖出；n.半圆凿；凿孔；欺诈 | |
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ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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inborn
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| adj.天生的，生来的，先天的 | |
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shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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perjured
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| adj.伪证的，犯伪证罪的v.发假誓，作伪证( perjure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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abhorrent
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| adj.可恶的，可恨的，讨厌的 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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bravado
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| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
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jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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impaled
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| 钉在尖桩上( impale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
barb
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| n.（鱼钩等的）倒钩，倒刺 | |
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82
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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83
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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85
scooped
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| v.抢先报道( scoop的过去式和过去分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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87
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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88
wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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92
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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93
severing
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的现在分词 )；断，裂 | |
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spinal
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| adj.针的，尖刺的，尖刺状突起的；adj.脊骨的，脊髓的 | |
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95
dilemma
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| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
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96
jubilation
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| n.欢庆，喜悦 | |
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97
besmirched
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| v.弄脏( besmirch的过去式和过去分词 )；玷污；丑化；糟蹋（名誉等） | |
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98
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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99
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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