Harry sat up to hearken better, and then concluded that he had mistaken for musketry the crackle of haystalks under his poncho11 sheet. Beneath him the round poles of his bed sagged12 as he drew up his knees and gathered about his shoulders the gray blanket damp from the spray of heavy rain against the canvas earlier in the night. Soon, with slow dawn's approach, he could make out the dull white of his carbine and sabre against the mud-plastered chimney. In that drear dimness the boy shivered, with a sense of misery13 rather than from cold, and yearned14 as only sleepy youth can for the ease of a true bed and dry warm swooning to slumber15. He was sustained by no mature sense that this too would pass; it was with a certain bodily despair that he felt chafed16 and compressed by his rough garments, and pitied himself, thinking how his mother would cry if she could see him couched so wretchedly that wet March morning, pressed all the more into loneliness by the regular breathing of veteran Bader in the indifference17 of deep sleep.
Harry's vision of his mother coming into his room, shading her candle with her hand, to see if he were asleep, passed away as a small gust19 came, shaking the canvas, for he was instantly alert with a certainty that the breeze had borne a strong rolling of musketry.
"Bader, Bader!" he said. "Bader!"
"Can't you shut up, you Wallbridge?" came Orderly Sergeant20 Gravely's sharp tones from the next tent.
"What's wrong with you, Harry, boy?" asked Bader, turning.
"I thought I heard heavy firing closer than the picket lines; twice now I've thought I heard it."
"Oh, I guess not, Harry. The Johnnies won't come out no such night as this. Keep quiet, or you'll have the sergeant on top of you. Better lie down and try to sleep, buddy; the bugles21 will call morning soon now."
Again Harry fell to his revery of home, and his vision became that of the special evening on which his boyish wish to go to the war had, for the family's sake, become resolve. He saw his mother's spectacled and lamp-lit face as she, leaning to the table, read in the familiar Bible; little Fred and Mary, also facing the table's central lamp, bent22 sleepy heads over their school-books; the father sat in the rocking-chair, with his right hand on the paper he had laid down, and gazed gloomily at the coals fallen below the front doors of the wood-burning stove. Harry dreamed himself back in his own chair, looking askance, and feeling sure his father was inwardly groaning23 over the absence of Jack24, the eldest25 son. Then nine o'clock struck, and Fred and Mary began to put their books away in preparation for bed.
"Wait a little, children," Mrs. Wallbridge said, serene26 in tone from her devotional reading. "Father wants that I should tell you something. You mustn't feel bad about it. It's that we may soon go out West. Your Uncle Ezra is doing well in Minnesota. Aunt Elvira says so in her letter that came to-day."
"It's this way, children," said Mr. Wallbridge, ready to explain, now that the subject was opened. "Since ever your brother Jack went away South, the store expenses have been too heavy. It's near five years now he's been gone. There's a sheaf of notes coming due the third of next month; twice they've been renewed, and the Philadelphia men say they'll close me up this time sure. If I had eight hundred dollars—but it's no use talking; we'll just have to let them take what we've got. Times have been bad right along around here, anyhow, with new competition, and so many farmers gone to the war, and more gone West. If Jack had stopped to home—but I've had to pay two clerks to do his work, and then they don't take any interest in the business. Mind, I'm not blaming Jack, poor fellow,—he'd a right to go where he'd get more'n his keep, and be able to lay up something for himself,—but what's become of him, God knows; and such a smart, good boy as he was! He'd got fond of New Orleans,—I guess some nice girl there, maybe, was the reason; and there he'd stay after the war began, and now it's two years and more since we've heard from him. Dead, maybe, or maybe they'd put him in jail, for he said he'd never join the Confederates, nor fight against them either—he felt that way—North and South was all the same to him. And so he's gone; and I don't see my way now at all. Ma, if it wasn't for my lame27 leg, I'd take the bounty28. It'd be something for you and the children after the store's gone."
"Sho, pa! don't talk that way! You're too down-hearted. It'll all come right, with the Lord's help," said Harry's mother. How clearly he, in the damp cold tent, could see her kind looks as she pushed up her spectacles and beamed on her husband; how distinctly, in the still dim dawn, he heard her soothing29 tones!
It was that evening's talk which had sent Harry, so young, to the front. Three village boys, little older than he, had already contrived30 to enlist31. Every time he saw the Flag drooping32, he thought shame of himself to be absent from the ranks of its upholders; and now, just as he was believing himself big and old enough to serve, he conceived that duty to his parents distinctly enjoined33 him to go. So in the night, without leave-taking or consent of his parents, he departed. The combined Federal, State, and city bounties34 offered at Philadelphia amounted to nine hundred dollars cash that dreadful winter before Richmond fell, and Harry sent the money home triumphantly35 in time to pay his father's notes and save the store.
While the young soldier thought it all over, carbine and sabre came out more and more distinctly outlined above the mud-plastered fireplace. The drizzle had ceased, the drip into the trench was almost finished, intense stillness ruled; Harry half expected to hear cocks crow from out such silence.
Listening for them, his dreamy mind brooded over both hosts, in a vision even as wide as the vast spread of the Republic in which they lay as two huddles36 of miserable37 men. For what were they all about him this woful, wet night? they all fain, as he, for home and industry and comfort. What delusion38 held them? How could it be that they could not all march away and separate, and the cruel war be over? Harry caught his breath at the idea,—it seemed so natural, simple, easy, and good a solution. Becoming absorbed in the fancy, tired of listening, and soothed39 by the silence, he was falling asleep as he sat, when a heavy weight seemed to fall, far away. Another—another—the fourth had the rumble40 of distant thunder, and seemed followed by a concussion41 of the air.
"Hey—Big Guns! What's up toward City Point?" cried Bader, sitting up. "I tell you they're at it. It can't be so far away as Butler. What? On the left too! That was toward Hatcher's Run! Harry, the rebs are out in earnest! I guess you did hear the pickets42 trying to stop 'em. What a morning! Ha—Fort Hell! see that!"
The outside world was dimly lighted up for a moment. In the intensified43 darkness that followed Bader's voice was drowned by the crash of a great gun from the neighboring fort. Flash, crash—flash, crash—flash, crash succeeded rapidly. Then the intervals44 of Fort Hell's fire lengthened45 to the regular periods for loading, and between her roars were heard the sullen46 boom of more distant guns, while through all the tumult47 ran a fierce undertone,—the infernal hurrying of musketry along the immediate48 front.
"The Johnnies must have got in close somehow," cried Bader. "Hey, Sergeant?"
"Yes," shouted Gravely. "Scooped49 up the pickets and supports too in the rain, I guess. Turn out, boys, turn out! there'll be a wild day. Kid! Where's the Kid? Kid Sylvester!"
"Here! All right, Barney; I'll be out in two shakes," shouted the bugler50.
"Hurry, then! I can hear the Colonel shouting already. Man, listen to that!"—as four of Fort Hell's guns crashed almost simultaneously51. "Brownie! Greasy52 Cook! O Brownie!"
"Here!" shouted the cook.
"Get your fire started right away, and see what salt horse and biscuit you can scare up. Maybe we'll have time for a snack."
"Turn out, Company K!" shouted Lieutenant53 Bradley, running down from the officers' quarters. "Where's the commissary sergeant? There?—all right—give out feed right away! Get your oats, men, and feed instantly! We may have time. Hullo! here's the General's orderly."
As the trooper galloped54, in a mud-storm, across the parade ground, a group of officers ran out behind the Colonel from the screen of pine saplings about Regimental Headquarters. The orderly gave the Colonel but a word, and, wheeling, was off again as "Boot and saddle" blared from the buglers, who had now assembled on parade.
"But leave the bits out—let your horses feed!" cried the Lieutenant, running down again. "We're not to march till further orders."
Beyond the screen of pines Harry could see the tall canvas ridges56 of the officers' cabins lighted up. Now all the tents of the regiment55, row behind row, were faintly luminous57, and the renewed drizzle of the dawn was a little lightened in every direction by the canvas-hidden candles of infantry58 regiments59, the glare of numerous fires already started, and sparks showering up from the cook-houses of company after company.
Soon in the cloudy sky the cannonade rolled about in broad day, which was still so gray that long wide flashes of flame could be seen to spring far out before every report from the guns of Fort Hell, and in the haze61 but few of the rebel shells shrieking62 along their high curve could be clearly seen bursting over Hancock's cheering men. Indistinguishably blent were the sounds of hosts on the move, field-guns pounding to the front, troops shouting, the clink and rattle63 of metal, officers calling, bugles blaring, drums rolling, mules64 screaming,—all heard as a running accompaniment to the cannon60 heavily punctuating65 the multitudinous din18.
"Fwat sinse in the ould man bodderin' us?" grumbled66 Corporal Kennedy, a tall Fenian dragoon from the British army. "Sure, ain't it as plain as the sun—and faith the same's not plain this dirthy mornin'—that there's no work for cavalry the day, barrin' it's escortin' the doughboys' prisoners, if they take any?—bad 'cess to the job. Sure it's an infantry fight, and must be, wid the field-guns helpin', and the siege pieces boomin' away over the throops in the mud betwigst our own breastworks and the inner line of our forts."
"Oh, by this and by that," the corporal grumbled on, "ould Lee's not the gintleman I tuk him for at all, at all,—discomfortin' us in the rain,—and yesterday an illigant day for fightin'. Couldn't he wait, like the dacint ould boy he's reported, for a dhry mornin', instead av turnin' his byes out in the shlush and destroyin' me chanst av breakfast? It's spring chickens I'd ordhered."
"You may get up to spring-chicken country soon, now," said Bader. "I'm thinking this is near the end; it's the last assault that Lee will ever deliver."
"Faith, I dunno," said the corporal; "that's what we've been saying sinst last fall, but the shtay of them Johnnies bates Banagher and the prophets. Hoo—ow! by the powers! did you hear them yell? Fwat? The saints be wid us! who'd 'a' thought it possible? Byes! Bader! Harry! luk at the Johnnies swarmin' up the face of Hell!"
Off there Harry could dimly see, rising over the near horizon made by tents, a straggling rush of men up the steep slope, while the rebel yell came shrill67 from a multitude behind on the level ground that was hidden from the place occupied by the cavalry regiment. In the next moment the force mounting Fort Hell's slope fell away, some lying where shot down, some rolling, some running and stumbling in heaps; then a tremendous musketry and field-gun fire growled68 to and fro under the heavy smoke round and about and out in front of the embrasures, which had never ceased their regular discharge over the heads of the fort's defenders69 and immediate assailants.
Suddenly Harry noted70 a slackening of the battle; it gradually but soon dropped away to nothing, and now no sound of small-arms in any direction was heard in the lengthening71 intervals of reports from the siege pieces far and near.
"And so that's the end of it," said Kennedy. "Sure it was hot work for a while! Faix, I thought onct the doughboys was nappin' too long, and ould Hell would be bullyin' away at ourselves. Now, thin, can we have a bite in paice? I'll shtart wid a few sausages, Brownie, and you may send in the shpring chickens wid some oyshters the second coorse. No! Oh, by the powers, 't is too mane to lose a breakfast like that!" and Corporal Kennedy shook his fist at the group of buglers calling the regiment to parade.
In ten minutes the Fifty-third had formed in column of companies. "Old Jimmy," their Colonel, had galloped down at them and once along their front; then the command, forming fours from the right front, moved off at a trot72 through the mud in long procession.
"Didn't I know it?" said Kennedy; "it's escortin' the doughboys' prisoners, that's all we're good for this outrageous73 day. Oh, wirra, wirrasthru! Police duty! and this calls itself a cavalry rigiment. Mounted Police duty,—escortin' doughboys' prisoners! Faix, I might as well be wid Her Majesty's dhragoons, thramplin' down the flesh and blood of me in poor ould Oireland. Begor, Harry, me bhy, it's a mane job to be setting you at, and this the first day ye're mounted to save the union!"
"Stop coddin' the boy, Corporal," said Bader, angrily. "You can't think how an American boy feels about this war."
"An Amerikin!—an Amerikin, is it? Let me insthruct ye thin, Misther Bader, that I'm as good an Amerikin as the next man. Och, be jabers, me that's been in the color you see ever since the Prisident first called for men! It was for a three months' dance he axed us first. Me, that's re-enlishted twice, don't know the feelin's of an Amerikin! What am I here for? Not poverty! sure I'd enough of that before ever I seen Ameriky! What am I wallopin' through the mud for this mornin'?"
"It's your trade, Kennedy," said Bader, with disgust.
"Be damned to you, man!" said the corporal, sternly. "When I touched fut in New York, didn't I swear that I'd never dhraw swoord more, barrin' it was agin the ould red tyrant74 and oprissor of me counthry? Wasn't I glad to be dhrivin' me own hack75 next year in Philamedink like a gintleman? Oh, the paice and the indipindence of it! But what cud I do when the counthry that tuk me and was good to me wanted an ould dhragoon? An Amerikin, ye say! Faith, the heart of me is Amerikin, if I'm a bog76 throtter by the tongue. Mind that now, me bould man!"
Harry heard without heeding77 as the horses spattered on. Still wavered in his ears the sounds of the dawn; still he saw the ghostlike forms of Americans in gray tumbling back from their rush against the sacred flag that had drooped78 so sadly over the smoke; and still, far away beyond all this puddled and cumbered ground the dreamy boy saw millions of white American faces, all haggard for news of the armies—some looking South, some North, yearning79 for the Peace that had so long ago been the boon80 of the Nation.
Now the regiment was upon the red clay of the dead fight, and brought to halt in open columns. After a little they moved off again in fours, and, dropping into single file, surrounded some thousands of disarmed81 men, the remnant of the desperate brigades that Lee had flung through the night across three lines of breastworks at the great fort they had so nearly stormed. Poor drenched82, shivering Johnnies! there they stood, not a few of them in blue overcoats, but mostly in butternut, generally tattered83; some barefoot, some with feet bound in ragged84 sections of blanket, many with toes and skin showing through crazy boots lashed85 on with strips of cotton or with cord; many stoutly86 on foot, streaming blood from head wounds.
Some lay groaning in the mud, while their comrades helped union surgeons to bind87 or amputate. Here and there groups huddled88 together in earnest talk, or listened to comrades gesticulating and storming as they recounted incidents of the long charge. But far the greater number faced outward, at gaze upon the cavalry guard, and, silently munching89 thick flat cakes of corn-bread, stared into the faces of the horsemen. Harry Wallbridge, brought to the halt, faced half round in the saddle, and looked with quick beatings of pity far and wide over the disorderly crowd of weather-worn men.
"It's a Louisiana brigade," said Bader.
"Fifty-three, P.V.V.C.," spoke90 a prisoner, as if in reply, reading the letters about the little crossed brass91 sabres on the union hats. "Say, you men from Pennsylvany?"
"Yes, Johnny; we come down to wake up Dixie."
"I reckon we got the start at wakin' you this mornin'," drawled the Southerner. "But say,—there's one of our boys lyin' dyin' over yonder; his folks lives in Pennsylvany. Mebbe some of you 'ud know 'em."
"What's his name?" asked Bader,
"Wallbridge—Johnny Wallbridge."
"Why, Harry—hold on!—you ain't the only Wallbridges there is. What's up?" cried Bader, as the boy half reeled, half clambered from his saddle.
"Hold on, Harry!" cried Corporal Kennedy.
"Halt there, Wallbridge!" shouted Sergeant Gravely.
"Stop that man!" roared Lieutenant Bradley.
But, calling, "He's my brother!" Harry, catching92 up his sabre as he ran, followed the Southerner, who had instantly divined the situation. The forlorn prisoners made ready way for them, and closing in behind, stretched in solid array about the scene.
"It's not Jack," said the boy; but something in the look of the dying man drew him on to kneel in the mud. "Is it you, Jack? Oh, now I know you! Jack, I'm Harry! don't you know me? I'm Harry—your brother Harry."
The Southern soldier stared rigidly93 at the boy, seeming to grow paler with the recollections that he struggled for.
"What's your name?" he asked very faintly.
"Harry Wallbridge—I'm your brother."
"Harry Wallbridge! Why, I'm John Wallbridge. Did you say Harry? Not Harry!" he shrieked94 hoarsely95. "No; Harry's only a little fellow!" He paused, and looked meditatively96 into the boy's eyes. "It's nearly five years I've been gone,—he was near twelve then. Boys," lifting his head painfully and casting his look slowly round upon his comrades, "I know him by the eyes; yes, he's my brother! Let me speak to him alone—stand back a bit," and at once the men pushed backward into the form of a wide circle.
"Put down your head, Harry. Kiss me! Kiss me again!—how's mother? Ah, I was afraid she might be dead—don't tell her I'm dead, Harry." He groaned97 with the pain of the groin wound. "Closer, Harry; I've got to tell you this first—maybe it's all I've time to tell. Say, Harry,"—he began to gasp,—"they didn't ought to have killed me, the union soldiers didn't. I never fired—high enough—all these years. They drafted me, Harry—tell mother that—down in New Orleans—and I—couldn't get away. Ai—ai! how it hurts! I must die soon's I can tell you. I wanted to come home—and help father—how's poor father, Harry? Doing well now? Oh, I'm glad of that—and the baby? there's a new baby! Ah, yes, I'll never see it, Harry."
His eyes closed, the pain seemed to leave him, and he lay almost smiling happily as his brother's tears fell on his muddy and blood-clotted face. As if from a trance his eyes opened, and he spoke anxiously but calmly.
"You'll be sure to tell them I was drafted—conscripted, you understand. And I never fired at any of us—of you—tell all the boys that." Again the flame of life went down, and again flickered98 up in pain.
"Harry—you'll stay by father—and help him, won't you? This cruel war—is almost over. Don't cry. Kiss me. Say—do you remember—the old times we had—fishing? Kiss me again, Harry—brother in blue—you're on—my side. Oh I wish—I had time—to tell you. Come close—put your arms around—my neck—it's old times—again." And now the wound tortured him for a while beyond speech. "You're with me, aren't you, Harry?
"Well, there's this," he gasped99 on, "about my chums—they've been as good and kind—marching, us all wet and cold together—and it wasn't their fault. If they had known—how I wanted—to be shot—for the union! It was so hard—to be—on the wrong side! But—"
He lifted his head and stared wildly at his brother, screamed rapidly, as if summoning all his life for the effort to explain, "Drafted, drafted, drafted—Harry, tell mother and father that. I was drafted. O God, O God, what suffering! Both sides—I was on both sides all the time. I loved them all, North and South, all,—but the union most. O God, it was so hard!"
His head fell back, his eyes closed, and Harry thought it was the end. But once more Jack opened his blue eyes, and slowly said in a steady, clear, anxious voice, "Mind you tell them I never fired high enough!" Then he lay still in Harry's arms, breathing fainter and fainter till no motion was on his lips, nor in his heart, nor any tremor100 in the hands that lay in the hand of his brother in blue.
"Come, Harry," said Bader, stooping tenderly to the boy, "the order is to march. He's past helping101 now. It's no use; you must leave him here to God. Come, boy, the head of the column is moving already."
Mounting his horse, Harry looked across to Jack's form. For the first time in two years the famous Louisiana brigade trudged102 on without their unwilling103 comrade. There he lay, alone, in the union lines, under the rain, his marching done, a figure of eternal peace; while Harry, looking backward till he could no longer distinguish his brother from the clay of the field, rode dumbly on and on beside the downcast procession of men in gray.
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1
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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buddy
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| n.（美口）密友，伙伴 | |
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lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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disabused
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| v.去除…的错误想法( disabuse的过去式和过去分词 )；使醒悟 | |
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poncho
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| n.斗篷，雨衣 | |
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sagged
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| 下垂的 | |
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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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yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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chafed
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的过去式 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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bugles
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| 妙脆角，一种类似薯片但做成尖角或喇叭状的零食； 号角( bugle的名词复数 )； 喇叭； 匍匐筋骨草； （装饰女服用的）柱状玻璃（或塑料）小珠 | |
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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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groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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bounty
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| n.慷慨的赠予物，奖金；慷慨，大方；施与 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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enlist
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| vt.谋取(支持等)，赢得；征募；vi.入伍 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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enjoined
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| v.命令( enjoin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bounties
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| （由政府提供的）奖金( bounty的名词复数 )； 赏金； 慷慨； 大方 | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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huddles
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| （尤指杂乱地）挤在一起的人（或物品、建筑）( huddle的名词复数 )； （美式足球）队员靠拢（磋商战术） | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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39
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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40
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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41
concussion
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| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
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42
pickets
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| 罢工纠察员( picket的名词复数 ) | |
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43
intensified
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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45
lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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47
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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48
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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49
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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50
bugler
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| 喇叭手； 号兵； 吹鼓手； 司号员 | |
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51
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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52
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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53
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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54
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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55
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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56
ridges
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| 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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57
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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58
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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59
regiments
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| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
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60
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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61
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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62
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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63
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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mules
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| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
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punctuating
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| v.（在文字中）加标点符号，加标点( punctuate的现在分词 )；不时打断某事物 | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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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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defenders
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| n.防御者( defender的名词复数 )；守卫者；保护者；辩护者 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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lengthening
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
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72
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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74
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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75
hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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80
boon
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| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
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81
disarmed
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| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
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82
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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83
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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84
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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85
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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86
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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87
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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88
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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89
munching
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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90
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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91
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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92
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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93
rigidly
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| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
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94
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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95
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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96
meditatively
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| adv.冥想地 | |
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97
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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98
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
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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100
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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101
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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102
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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103
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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