What is this to so beat upon our dismal7 Osage? There is a dab8 of mud in his hair; his blanket is rags, and his moccasins are rusty9 and worn. These be weeds of mourning. Death has crept to the tepee of Gray Wolf and taken a prey10. It was Catbird, the squaw of Gray Wolf.
However, his to-day’s sadness is not for the departed Catbird. He married her without laughter, and saw her pass without tears, as became a man and an Osage. When her breath was gone, the women combed her hair and dressed her in new, gay clothes, and burned the sacred cedar11. Gray Wolf, after the usage of his fathers, seated her—knees to chin—on yonder hilltop, wrapped her in rawhides12, and, as against the curiosity of coyotes and other prowling vermin of the night, budded her solidly about and over with heavy stones. You may see the rude mausole, like some tumbledown chimney, from the agency door. That was a moon ago. Another will go by; Gray Wolf will lay off his rags and tatters, comb the clay from his hair, and give a dance to show that he mourns no more. No, it is not the lost Catbird—good squaw though she was—that embitters14 the tobacco and haunts the moods of Gray Wolf. It is something more awful than death—that merest savage15 commonplace; something to touch the important fiber16 of pride.
Gray Wolf is proud, as indeed he has concern to be. Not alone is he eminent17 as an Osage; he is likewise an eminent Indian. Those two thin ragged18 lines of blue tattoo19 which, on each side from the point of the jaw20, run downward on the neck until they disappear beneath his blanket, prove Gray Wolf’s elevation21. They are the marks of an aboriginal22 nobility whereof the paleface in his ignorance knows nothing. Thirty Indians in all the tribes may wear these marks. And yet, despite such signs of respect, Gray Wolf has become the subject of acrid23 tribal24 criticism; and he feels it like the edge of a knife.
Keats was quill-pricked to death by critics. But Keats was an Englishman and a poet. Petronius Arbiter25, Nero’s minion26, was also criticised; despite the faultfinder, however, he lived in cloudless merry luxury, and died laughing. But Petronius was a Roman and an epicure27. Gray Wolf is to gain nothing by these examples. He would not die like the verse maker28, he could not laugh like the consul29; there is a gulf30 between Gray Wolf and these as wide as the width of the possible. Gray Wolf is a stoic31, and therefore neither so callous32 nor so wise as an epicure. Moreover, he is a savage and not a poet. Petronius came to be nothing better than an appetite; Gray Wolf rises to the heights of an emotion. Keats was a radical33 of sensibility, ransacking34 a firmament35; Gray Wolf is an earthgoing conservative—a more stupendous Tory than any Bolingbroke. Of the two, while resembling neither, Gray Wolf comes nearer the poet than the Sybarite, since he can feel.
Let it be remarked that Osage criticism is no trivial thing. It is so far peculiar36 that never a word or look, or even a detractory shrug37 is made to be its evidence. Your Osage tells no evil tales of you to his neighbor. His conduct goes guiltless of slanderous38 syllable39 or gesture. But he criticises you in his heart; he is strenuous40 to think ill of you; and by some fashion of telepathy you know and feel and burn with this tacit condemnation41 as much as ever you might from hot irons laid on your forehead. It is this criticism, as silent as it is general, that gnaws42 at Gray Wolf’s heart and makes his somber43 visage more somber yet.
It was the week before when Gray Wolf, puffed44 of a vain conceit45, matched Sundown, his pinto pony46—swift as a winter wind, he deemed her—against a piebald, leggy roan, the property of Dull Ox, the cunning Ponca. The race had wide advertisement; it took shape between the Osages and the Poncas as an international event. Gray Wolf assured his tribe of victory; his Sundown was a shooting star, the roan a turtle; whereupon the Osages, ever ready as natural patriots47 to believe the worst Osage thing to be better than the best thing Ponca, fatuously48 wagered50 their substance on Sundown, even unto the beads51 on their moccasins.
The race was run; the ubiquitous roan, fleeter than a shadow, went by poor Sundown as though she ran with hobbles on. Dull Ox won; the Poncas won. The believing Osages were stripped of their last blanket; and even as Gray Wolf sits beneath the agency cottonwood and writhes52 while he considers what his pillaged53 countrymen must think of him, the exultant55 Poncas are in the midst of a protracted56 spree, something in the nature of a scalp dance, meant to celebrate their triumph and emphasize the thoroughness wherewith the Osages were routed. Is it marvel57, then, that Osage thought is full of resentment58, or that Gray Wolf feels its sting?
Over across from the moody59 Gray Wolf, Bill Henry lounges in the wide doorway60 of Florer’s agency store. Bill Henry is young, about twenty-three, in truth. He has a quick, handsome face, with gray eyes that dance and gleam, and promise explosiveness of temper. The tan that darkens Bill Henry’s skin wherever the sun may get to it, and which is comparable to the color of a saddle or a law book, testifies that the vivacious61 Bill is no recent importation. Five full years on the plains would be needed to ripen62 one to that durable63 hue64.
Bill gazes out upon Gray Wolf as the latter sticks to the cottonwood’s shade; a plan is running in the thoughts of Bill. There is call for change in Bill’s destinies, and he must have the Gray Wolf’s consent to what he bears in mind.
Bill has followed cattle since he turned his back on Maryland, a quintet of years before, and pushed westward66 two thousand miles to commence a career. Bill’s family is of that aristocracy which adorns67 the “Eastern Shore” of Lord Baltimore’s old domain68. His folk are of consequence, and intended that Bill should take a high position. Bill’s mother, an ardent69 church woman, had a pulpit in her thoughts for Bill; his father, more of the world, urged on his son the law. But Bill’s bent70 was towards the laws neither of heaven nor of men. The romantic overgrew the practical in his nature. He leaned not to labor71, whether mental or physical, and he liked danger and change and careless savageries.
Civilization is artificial; it is a creature of convention, of clocks, of hours, of an unending procession of sleep, victuals72 and work. Bill distasted such orderly matters and felt instinctive73 abhorrence74 therefor. The day in and day out effort called for to remain civilized75 terrified Bill; his soul gave up the task before it was begun.
But savagery76? Ah, that was different! Savagery was natural, easy and comfortable to the very heart’s blood of Bill, shiftless and wild as it ran. Bill was an instance of what wise folk term “reversion to type,” and thus it befell, while his father tugged77 one way and his mother another, Bill himself went suddenly from under their hands, fled from both altar and forum78, and never paused until he found himself within the generous reaches of the Texas Panhandle. There, as related, and because savagery cannot mean entire idleness, Bill gave himself to a pursuit of cows, and soon had moderate fame as a rider, a roper, a gambler, and a quick, sure hand with a gun, and for whatever was deemed excellent in those regions wherein he abode79.
Bill’s presence among the Osages is the upcome of a dispute which fell forth80 between Bill and a comrade in a barroom of Mobeetie. Bill and the comrade aforesaid played at a device called “draw poker;” and Bill, in attempting to supply the deficiencies of a four flush with his six shooter, managed the other’s serious wounding. This so shook Bill’s standing81 in the Panhandle, so marked him to the common eye as a boy of dangerous petulance82, that Bill sagely83 withdrew between two days; and now, three hundred miles to the north and east, he seeks among the Indians for newer pastures more serene84.
When we meet him Bill has been with the Osages the space of six weeks. And already he begins to doubt his welcome. Not that the Osages object. Your Indian objects to nothing that does not find shape as an immediate85 personal invasion of himself. But the government agent—a stern, decisive person—likes not the presence of straggling whites among his copper86 charges; already has he made intimation to Bill that his Osage sojourn87 should be short. Any moment this autocrat88 may despatch89 his marshal to march Bill off the reservation.
Bill does not enjoy the outlook. Within the brief frontiers of those six weeks of his visit, Bill has contracted an eager fondness for Osage life. Your Indian is so far scriptural that he taketh scant90 heed91 of the morrow, and believeth with all his soul that sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. Here was a program to dovetail with those natural moods of Bill. His very being, when once it understood, arose on tiptoe to embrace it. Bill has become an Osage in his breast; as he poses with listless grace in Florer’s portals, he is considering means whereby he may manage a jointure with the tribe, and become in actual truth a member.
There is but one door to his coming; Bill must wed65 his way into Osage citizenship92. He must take a daughter of the tribe to wife; turn “squaw man,” as it is called. Then will Bill be a fullblown Osage; then may no agent molest93 him or make him afraid.
This amiable94 plot, as he lounges in Florer’s door, is already decided95 upon by Bill. His fancy has even pitched upon the damsel whom he will honor with the title of “Mrs. Bill.” It is this selection that produces Gray Wolf as a factor in Bill’s intended happiness, since Gray Wolf is the parent of the Saucy96 Paoli, to whom Bill’s hopes are turned. Bill must meet and treat with Gray Wolf for his daughter, discover her “price,” and pay it.
0027
As to the lady herself and her generous consent when once her father is won, Bill harbors no misgivings97. He believes too well of his handsome person; moreover, has he not demonstrated in friendly bout13, on foot and on horseback, his superiority to the young Osage bucks99 who would pit themselves against him? Has he not out-run, out-wrestled and out-ridden them? And at work with either rifle, six-shooter or knife, has he not opened their eyes? Also, he has conquered them at cards; and their money and their ponies100 and their gewgaws to a healthful value are his as spoils thereof.
Bill is all things that a lady of sensibility should love; and for that on those two or three occasions when he came unexpectedly upon her, the Saucy Paoli dodged101 within the ancestral lodge102 to daub her nose and cheeks with hurried yet graceful103 red, thereby104 to improve and give her beauties point, Bill knows he has touched her heart. Yes, forsooth! Bill feels sure of the Saucy Paoli; it is Gray Wolf, somber of his late defeat by the wily Dull Ox and the evanescent roan, toward whom his apprehensions105 turn their face. The more, perhaps, since Bill himself, not being a blinded Osage, and having besides some certain wit concerning horses, scrupled106 not to wager49 and win on the Ponca entry, and against the beloved Sundown of his father-in-law to come. It is the notion that Gray Wolf might resent this apostasy107 that breeds a half pause in Bill’s optimism as he loafs in Florer’s door.
As Bill stands thus musing108, the Saucy Paoli goes by. The Saucy Paoli is light, pretty, round and wholesome109, and she glances with shy, engaging softness on Bill from eyes as dark and big and deep as a deer’s. Is it not worth while to wed her? The Osages are owners in fee of one million, five hundred thousand acres of best land; they have eight even millions of dollars stored in the Great Father’s strong chests in Washington; they are paid each one hundred and forty dollars by their fostering Great Father as an annual present; and the head of the house draws all for himself and his own. Marriage will mean an instant yearly income of two hundred and eighty dollars; moreover, there may come the profitable papoose, and with each such a money augmentation of one hundred and forty dollars. And again, there are but sixteen hundred Osages told and counted; and so would Bill gain a strong per cent, in the tribal domain and the tribal treasure. Altogether, a union with the fair, brown Saucy Paoli is a prospect110 fraught111 of sunshine; and so Bill wisely deems it.
For an hour it has leaped in Bill’s thoughts as an impulse to go across to the spreading cottonwood, propose himself to the Gray Wolf for the Saucy Paoli, and elicit112 reply. It would not be the Osage way, but Bill is not yet an Osage, and some reasonable allowance should be made by Gray Wolf for the rudeness of a paleface education. Such step would earn an answer, certain and complete. Your savage beateth not about the bush. His diplomacy113 is Bismarckian; it is direct and proceeds by straight lines.
Thus chase Bill’s cogitations when the sudden sight of the Saucy Paoli and her glances, full of wist and warmth, fasten his gallant114 fancy and crystalize a resolution to act at once.
“How!” observes Bill, by way of salutation, as he stands before Gray Wolf.
That warrior115 grunts116 swinish, though polite, response. Then Bill goes directly to the core of his employ; he explains his passion, sets forth his hopes, and by dashing swoops117 arrives at the point which, according to Bill’s blunt theories, should quicken the interest of Gray Wolf, and says:
“Now, what price? How many ponies?”
“How many you give?” retorts the cautious Gray Wolf.
“Fifteen.” Bill stands ready to go to thirty.
“Ugh!” observes Gray Wolf, and then he looks out across the prairie grasses where the thick smoke shows the summer fires to be burning them far away.
“Thirty ponies,” says Bill after a pause.
These or their money equivalent—six hundred dollars—Bill knows to be a fat figure. He believes Gray Wolf will yield.
But Bill is in partial error. Gray Wolf is not in any sordid118, money frame. Your savage is a sentimentalist solely119 on two matters: those to touch his pride and those to wake his patriotism120. And because of the recent triumph of the Poncas, and the consequent censures121 upon him now flaming, though hidden, in the common Osage heart, Gray Wolf’s pride is raw and throbbing122. He looks up at Bill where he waits.
“One pony!” says Gray Wolf.
“One?”
“But it must beat the Ponca’s roan.”
Four hundred miles to the westward lie the broad ranges of the Triangle-Dot. Throughout all cow-land the ponies of the Triangle-Dot have name for speed. As far eastward123 as the Panhandle and westward to the Needles, as far southward as Seven Rivers and northward124 to the Spanish Peaks, has their fame been flung. About camp fires and among the boys of cows are tales told of Triangle-Dot ponies that overtake coyotes and jack-rabbits. More, they are exalted125 as having on a time raced even with an antelope126. These ponies are children of a blue-grass sire, as thoroughbred as ever came out of Kentucky. Little in size, yet a ghost to go; his name was Redemption. These speedy mustang babies of Redemption have yet to meet their master in the whole southwest. And Bill knows of them; he has seen them run.
“In two moons, my father,” says Bill.
There is much creaking of saddle leathers; there is finally a deep dig in the flanks by the long spurs, and Bill, mounted on his best, rides out of Pauhauska. His blankets are strapped127 behind, his war bags bulge128 with provand, he is fully129 armed; of a verity130, Bill meditates131 a journey. Four hundred miles—and return—no less, to the ranges of the Triangle-Dot.
Gray Wolf watches from beneath the cottonwood that already begins to throw its shadows long; his eyes follow Bill until the latter’s broad brimmed, gray sombrero disappears on the hill-crests over beyond Bird River.
It skills not to follow Bill in this pilgrimage. He fords rivers; he sups and sleeps at casual camps; now and again he pauses for the night at some chance plaza132 of the Mexicans; but first and last he pushes ever on and on at a round road gait, and with the end he has success.
Within his time by full three weeks Bill is again at the agency of the Osages; and with him comes a pony, lean of muzzle133, mild of eye, wide of forehead, deep of lung, silken of mane, slim of limb, a daughter of the great Redemption; and so true and beautiful is she in each line she seems rather for air than earth. And she is named the Spirit.
Gray Wolf goes over the Spirit with eye and palm. He feels her velvet134 coat; picks up one by one her small hoofs135, polished and hard as agate136.
The Spirit has private trial with Sundown and leaves that hopeless cayuse as if the latter were pegged137 to the prairie.
“Ugh!” says Gray Wolf, at the finish. “Heap good pony!”
Your savage is not a personage of stopwatches, weights and records. At the best, he may only guess concerning a pony’s performance. Also his vanity has wings, though his pony has none, and once he gets it into his savage head that his pony can race, it is never long ere he regards him as invincible138. Thus is it with Dull Ox and his precious roan. That besotted Ponca promptly139 accepts the Gray Wolf challenge for a second contest.
The day arrives. The race is to be run on the Osage course—a quarter of a mile, straight-away—at the Pauhauska agency. Two thousand Osages and Poncas are gathered together. There is no laughter, no uproar140, no loud talk; all is gravity, dignity and decorum. The stakes are one thousand dollars a side, for Gray Wolf and Dull Ox are opulent pagans.
The ponies are brought up and looked over. The fires of a thousand racing141 ancestors burn in the eyes of the Spirit; the Poncas should take warning. But they do not; wagers142 run higher. The Osages have by resolution of their fifteen legislators brought the public money to the field. Thus they are rich for speculation143, where, otherwise, by virtue144 of former losses, they would be helpless with empty hands.
Bet after bet is made. The pool box is a red blanket spread on the grass. It is presided over by a buck98, impecunious145 but of fine integrity.
Being moneyless, he will make no bet himself; being honest, he will faithfully guard the treasure put within his care. A sporting buck approaches the blanket; he grumbles146 a word or two in the ear of the pool master who sits at the blanket’s head; then he searches forth a hundred-dollar bill from the darker recesses147 of his blanket and lays it on the red betting-cloth. Another comes up; the pool master murmurs148 the name of the pony on which the hundred is offered; it is covered by the second speculator; that wager is complete. Others arrive at the betting blanket; its entire surface becomes dotted with bank notes—two and two they lie together, each wagered against the other. The blanket is covered and concealed149 with the money piled upon it. One begins to wonder how a winner is to know his wealth. There will be no clash, no dispute. Savages150 never cheat; and each will know his own. Besides, there is the poverty-eaten, honest buck, watching all, to be appealed to should an accidental confusion of wagers occur.
On a bright blanket, a trifle to one side—not to be under the moccasins of commerce, as it were—sits the Saucy Paoli. She is without motion; and a blanket, covering her from little head to little foot, leaves not so much as a stray lock or the tip of an ear for one’s gaze to rest upon. The Saucy Paoli is present dutifully to answer the outcome of the Gray Wolf’s pact151 with Bill. One wonders how does her heart beat, and how roam her hopes? Is she for the roan, or is she for the Glory of the Triangle-Dot?
0041
The solemn judges draw their blankets about them and settle to their places. Three Poncas and three Osages on a side they are; they seat themselves opposite each other with twenty feet between. A line is drawn152 from trio to trio; that will serve as wire. The pony to cross first will be victor.
Now all is ready! The rival ponies are at the head of the course; it will be a standing start. A grave buck sits in the saddle near the two racers and to their rear. He is the starter. Suddenly he cracks off a Winchester, skyward. It is the signal.
The ponies leap like panthers at the sound. There is a swooping153 rush; for one hundred yards they run together, then the Spirit takes the lead. Swifter than the thrown lance, swift as the sped arrow she comes! With each instant she leaves and still further leaves the roan! What has such as the mongrel pony of the Poncas to do with the Flower of the Triangle-Dot? The Spirit flashes between the double triumvirate of judges, winner by fifty yards!
And now one expects a shout. There is none. The losing Poncas and the triumphant154 Osages alike are stolid155 and dignified156. Only Gray Wolf’s eyes gleam, and the cords in his neck swell157. He has been redeemed158 with his people; his honor has been returned; his pride can again hold up its head. But while his heart may bound, his face must be like iron. Such is the etiquette159 of savagery.
Both Gray Wolf and the Osages will exult54 later, noisily, vociferously160. There will be feasting and dancing. Now they must be grave and guarded, both for their own credit and to save their Ponca adversaries161 from a wound.
Bill turns and rides slowly back to the judges. The Spirit, daughter of Redemption, stands with fire eyes and tiger lily nostrils162. Bill swings from the saddle. Gray Wolf throws off the blanket from the Saucy Paoli, where she waits, head bowed and silent. Her dress is the climax163 of Osage magnificence; the Saucy Paoli glows like a ruby164 against the dusk green of the prairie. Bill takes the Saucy Paoli’s hand and raises her to her feet.
She lifts her head. Her glance is shy, yet warm and glad. She hesitates. Then, as one who takes courage—just as might a white girl, though with less of art—she puts up her lips to be kissed.
“Now that is what I call a fair story,” commented the Red Nosed Gentleman approvingly when the Jolly Doctor came to a pause; “only I don’t like that notion of a white man marrying an Indian. It’s apt to keep alive in the children the worst characteristics of both races and none of the virtues165 of either.”
“Now I don’t know that,” observed the Sour Gentleman, contentiously166. “In my own state of Virginia many of our best people are proud to trace their blood to Pocahontas, who was sold for a copper kettle. I, myself, am supposed to have a spoonful of the blood of that daughter of Powhatan in my veins167; and while it is unpleasant to recall one’s ancestress as having gone from hand to hand as the subject of barter168 and sale—and for no mighty169 price at that—I cannot say I would wish it otherwise. My Indian blood fits me very well. Did you say”—turning to the Jolly Doctor—“did you say, sir, you knew this young man who won the Saucy Paoli?”
“No,” returned the Jolly Doctor, “I am guiltless of acquaintance with him. The story came to me from one of our Indian agents.”
While this talk went forward, Sioux Sam, who understood English perfectly170 and talked it very well, albeit171 with a guttural Indian effect, and who had listened to the Jolly Doctor’s story with every mark of interest, was saying something in a whisper to the Old Cattleman.
“He tells me,” remarked the Old Cattleman in reply to my look of curiosity, “that if you-alls don’t mind, he’ll onfold on you a Injun tale himse’f. It’s one of these yere folk-lore stories, I suppose, as Doc Peets used to call ’em.”
The whole company made haste to assure Sioux Sam that his proposal was deeply the popular one; thus cheered, our dark-skinned raconteur172, first lighting173 his pipe with a coal from the great fireplace, issued forth upon his verbal journey.
“An’ this,” said Sioux Sam, lifting a dark finger to invoke174 attention and puffing175 a cloud the while, “an’ this tale, which shows how Forked Tongue, the bad medicine man, was burned, must teach how never to let the heart fill up with hate like a pond with the rains, nor permit the tongue to go a crooked176 trail.”
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1
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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3
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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4
eke
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| v.勉强度日，节约使用 | |
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5
streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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graphic
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| adj.生动的，形象的，绘画的，文字的，图表的 | |
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7
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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8
dab
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| v.轻触，轻拍，轻涂；n.(颜料等的)轻涂 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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rawhides
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| n.生皮，未经加工的皮革( rawhide的名词复数 ) | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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embitters
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| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的第三人称单数 ) | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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fiber
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| n.纤维，纤维质 | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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tattoo
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| n.纹身，(皮肤上的)刺花纹；vt.刺花纹于 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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aboriginal
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| adj.（指动植物）土生的，原产地的，土著的 | |
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acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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tribal
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| adj.部族的，种族的 | |
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arbiter
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| n.仲裁人，公断人 | |
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minion
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| n.宠仆；宠爱之人 | |
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epicure
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| n.行家，美食家 | |
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maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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consul
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| n.领事；执政官 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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stoic
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| n.坚忍克己之人，禁欲主义者 | |
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callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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34
ransacking
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| v.彻底搜查( ransack的现在分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
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35
firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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36
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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37
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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38
slanderous
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| adj.诽谤的，中伤的 | |
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39
syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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40
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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41
condemnation
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| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
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42
gnaws
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| 咬( gnaw的第三人称单数 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
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43
somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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44
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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45
conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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46
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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47
patriots
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| 爱国者，爱国主义者( patriot的名词复数 ) | |
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48
fatuously
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| adv.愚昧地，昏庸地，蠢地 | |
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49
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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50
wagered
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| v.在（某物）上赌钱，打赌( wager的过去式和过去分词 )；保证，担保 | |
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51
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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52
writhes
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的第三人称单数 ) | |
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53
pillaged
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| v.抢劫，掠夺( pillage的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
exult
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| v.狂喜，欢腾；欢欣鼓舞 | |
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55
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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56
protracted
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| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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57
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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58
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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59
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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60
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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61
vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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62
ripen
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| vt.使成熟；vi.成熟 | |
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63
durable
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| adj.持久的，耐久的 | |
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64
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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65
wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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66
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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67
adorns
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| 装饰，佩带( adorn的第三人称单数 ) | |
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68
domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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69
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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70
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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71
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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72
victuals
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| n.食物；食品 | |
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73
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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74
abhorrence
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| n.憎恶；可憎恶的事 | |
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75
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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76
savagery
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| n.野性 | |
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77
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
forum
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| n.论坛，讨论会 | |
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79
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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80
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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81
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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82
petulance
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| n.发脾气，生气，易怒，暴躁，性急 | |
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83
sagely
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| adv. 贤能地，贤明地 | |
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84
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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85
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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86
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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87
sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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88
autocrat
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| n.独裁者；专横的人 | |
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89
despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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90
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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91
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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92
citizenship
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| n.市民权，公民权，国民的义务(身份) | |
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93
molest
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| vt.骚扰，干扰，调戏 | |
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94
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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95
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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96
saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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97
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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98
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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99
bucks
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| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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100
ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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101
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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102
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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103
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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104
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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105
apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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106
scrupled
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| v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
apostasy
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| n.背教，脱党 | |
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108
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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109
wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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110
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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111
fraught
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| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
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112
elicit
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| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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113
diplomacy
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| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
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114
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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115
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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116
grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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117
swoops
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| 猛扑，突然下降( swoop的名词复数 ) | |
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118
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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119
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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120
patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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121
censures
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| v.指责，非难，谴责( censure的第三人称单数 ) | |
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122
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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123
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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124
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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125
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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126
antelope
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| n.羚羊；羚羊皮 | |
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127
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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128
bulge
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| n.突出，膨胀，激增；vt.突出，膨胀 | |
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129
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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130
verity
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| n.真实性 | |
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131
meditates
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| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的第三人称单数 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
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132
plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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133
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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134
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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135
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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136
agate
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| n.玛瑙 | |
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137
pegged
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| v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的过去式和过去分词 )；使固定在某水平 | |
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138
invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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139
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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140
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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141
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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142
wagers
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| n.赌注，用钱打赌( wager的名词复数 )v.在（某物）上赌钱，打赌( wager的第三人称单数 )；保证，担保 | |
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143
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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144
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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145
impecunious
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| adj.不名一文的，贫穷的 | |
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146
grumbles
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| 抱怨( grumble的第三人称单数 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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147
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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148
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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149
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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150
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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151
pact
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| n.合同，条约，公约，协定 | |
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152
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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153
swooping
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的现在分词 ) | |
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154
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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155
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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156
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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157
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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158
redeemed
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| adj. 可赎回的，可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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159
etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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160
vociferously
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| adv.喊叫地，吵闹地 | |
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161
adversaries
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| n.对手，敌手( adversary的名词复数 ) | |
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162
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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163
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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164
ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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165
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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166
contentiously
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167
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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168
barter
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| n.物物交换，以货易货，实物交易 | |
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169
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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170
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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171
albeit
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| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
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172
raconteur
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| n.善讲故事者 | |
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173
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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174
invoke
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| v.求助于(神、法律)；恳求，乞求 | |
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175
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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176
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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