On the morning of the fifth day out the brasses were pronounced in a satisfactory condition, and I was ordered into the hold, with a score of the native crew, to send up the trunks of Egyptian travelers. The weather grew perceptibly warmer with every throb13 of the engines. When I climbed on deck after the last chest, the deep blue of the ocean had turned to a shabby brown, but the horizon was still unbroken. Suddenly there rose from the sea, on our starboard bow, as a marionette14 bobs up in a puppet-show, a flat-topped building, then another and another, until a whole village, the houses of which seemed to sit like gulls15 on the ruddy sea, spread out before us. It was Port Sa?d. The pilot-boat had swung alongside and the statue of de Lesseps was plainly visible before we caught the first glimpse of land, a narrow stretch of reddish desert sand beyond the town. Slowly the Warwickshire nosed her way into the canal, the anchor ran out with a rattle16 and roar of cable, and there swarmed17 upon our decks a countless18 multitude of humans, that seemed the denizens19 of some remote and unknown sphere.
104Darkness fell soon after. I had signed on the Warwickshire under a promise that I might leave her at Port Sa?d. Through all the voyage, however, the quartermasters had spent the hours of the dogwatch in pouring into my ears tales of the horrors that had befallen white men stranded20 among the Arabs. The shrieks21 that rose from the maze23 of buildings ashore24, the snarling25, scowling26 mobs that raced about our decks, called back these stories all too vividly27. In the blackest of nights, this new and unknown world was in imagination peopled with diabolical28 creatures lying in wait for lone29 mortals who might venture ashore unarmed and well-nigh penniless. If I escaped a quick assassination30 among these black hordes31, a lingering starvation on this neck of sand might be my lot. The captain had given me leave to continue to Rangoon. An Englishman, returning to the Burmese district he governed, had promised me a well-salaried position. Most foolhardy it seemed to halt in this “dumping ground of rascality32” when in a few days I might complete half my journey around the globe and find a ready employment.
For an hour I sat undecided, staring into the black inferno33 beyond the wharves34. Palestine and Egypt, however, were lands too famous to be lightly passed by. I bade farewell to the astonished quartermasters, collected my few days’ wages from the mate, and with some two pounds in francs, lire, and shillings in my pocket, dropped into a feluca and was rowed ashore.
A scene typically Oriental graced my landing. In my ignorance, I had neglected to spend a half-hour in bargaining with the swarthy boatman before stepping into his craft. That the legal fare I paid him was posted conspicuously35 on the wharf36 made him none the less assertive37 in his demands. For an hour he dogged my footsteps, howling threats or whining38 pleas in a cracked treble, now in his native Arabic, now in such English as he could muster39. The summary vengeance40 of the Islamites, prophesied42 with such fullness of detail by my shipmates, seemed at hand; but I shook the fellow off at last and set out to find a lodging43.
The task at which I had grown so proficient44 in Europe was a far more difficult problem in this strange world. To be sure, there were several hotels along the avenue facing the wharves, before which well-dressed white men lounged at little tables; and black, barefooted waiters flitted back and forth45, carrying cool drinks that we of America are wont46 to associate with August mid-days rather than with December evenings. But a strong financial backing is nowhere so indispensable 105as in hostelries offering “European accommodations” in the Orient. There were, undoubtedly47, scores of native inns in the maze of hovels into which I plunged48 at the first step off the avenue, but how distinguish them when the only signs that met my eye were as meaningless as so many spatters of ink? Even in Holland I had been able to guess at shop names. But Arabic! I had not the remotest idea whether the ensign before me announced a lodging house or the quarters of an undertaker. I returned to the avenue; but the few white men who paused to listen to my inquiry49 for a “native” hotel stared at me as at one who had lost his wits, and passed on with a shrug50 of the shoulders. A long evening I pattered in and out of crooked51 byways, bumping now and then into a swarthy Mussulman who snarled52 at me and made off, and bringing up here and there in some dismal blind alley53. Fearful of wandering too far from the lighted square, I turned back toward the harbor and suddenly caught sight of a sign in English: “Catholic Sailors’ Home.” Whether the establishment was Catholic or Coptic was small matter, so long as it announced itself in a human language, and I dashed joyfully54 towards it.
The “Home” comprised little more than a small reading-room. Half-hidden behind the stacks of ragged56 magazines sat the “manager,” a Maltese boy, huddled57 over paper and pencil and staring disconsolately58 at an Italian-English grammar. I stepped forward and offered my assistance, and together we waded59 through an interminable lesson. Before we had ended, six tattered60 white men wandered in and carefully chose books over which to fall asleep.
“You must know,” said the manager, as he closed the grammar, “that there am no sleepings here. And we closes at eleven. But I am fix you oop. I am shelter all these seamans while I lose my place when the Catholic society found it out.”
He peered out into the night, locked the doors, blew out the lights, and aroused the sleepers61. We groped our way along a stone-paved corridor to the back of the building.
“You are getting in here,” said the Maltese, pulling open what proved by morning light to be a heavy pair of shutters62, “but be quietness.”
I climbed through after the others. A companion struck a match that lighted up a stone room eight feet square, once the kitchen of the Home. Closely packed as we were, it soon grew icy cold on the stone floor. Two “beachcombers” rose with exclamations63 of disgust 106and crawled out through the window, to tramp up and down the corridor. I groped my way to a coffin-shaped cupboard in one corner, laid it lengthwise on the floor, pulled out the shelves, and, crawling inside, closed the doors above me. My sleep was unbroken until morning.
By the light of day my bedfellows, squatted64 against the wall of the corridor, formed a heterogeneous65 group. At one end sat a Boer dressed in heavy, woolen66 garments of the veldt, of a faded, weather-beaten condition startlingly in keeping with the bronzed and bewhiskered countenance67 of the wearer. A seedy Austrian youth lolled open-mouthed between the South African and an oily Turk. A Liberian negro was sharing a mangled68 crust with a Russian Finn, half-hidden behind a forest of unpruned whiskers. A ragged Englishman stood stiffly erect69 near the door.
We found ample time to divulge70 the secrets of our past before the turnkey came to release us. With the Englishman I strolled down to the harbor. Myriads71 of “coaling niggers,” in dirty, loose robes, as indistinguishable one from another as ants, swarmed up the sides of newly-arrived ships, or returned, jaded72 and begrimed, in densely73 packed boat-loads, from a night of toil74. The custom police, big, pompous75 negroes beside whom the Arabs seemed light colored, strutted76 back and forth within the wharf enclosure. As each band of heavers arrived, the officers laid aside their brilliant fezes, slipped over their gay uniforms a bag-like garment that covered them to their gaitered shoes, and gathered the workmen, one by one, in a loving embrace.
“Affectionate fellows, these followers77 of the prophet,” I mused78.
“Aye,” croaked79 my companion, “and bloody80 good smugglers, dressed in them dirty skys’ls.”
They live in coal, these heavers of Port Sa?d. Their beds, their wives, their children, the merchants with whom they come in contact, even the little baked fish which bleary-eyed females sell them outside the gates, are covered with its dust.
The Englishman knew of but one “graft” in Port Sa?d. Each day, at noon, the friars of a Catholic monastery81 served dinner to the penniless. A crowd overwhelmingly Oriental lined up with us under the trees of the convent garden to await the serene82 pleasure of the tawny83 Arab who dispensed84 the charity of the priests. Between a Tartar and a Nubian, I received, after long delay, a deep tin-plate, a pewter spoon, and a misshapen slice of bread. The entire party had lost hope of obtaining anything more edible85, when the monasterial 107servant appeared once more, straining painfully along with a huge caldron of soup, which he deposited on the flat grave-stone of a defunct86 friar. As we filed by him, the Arab tossed at each of us a ladleful of the boiling concoction87. Whether it landed in our plates or distributed itself generously over our nether88 garments depended entirely89 on our own dexterity90, for the haughty91 server dumped the ladle where, in his opinion, our dishes ought to have been, utterly92 indifferent as to whether they were there or not.
The Englishman disappeared next day, and I joined fortunes with the seedy Austrian. With a daily dinner and a lodging, even in a cupboard, assured, I found Port Sa?d a more agreeable halting-place than Marseilles. There was work to be had here, too. On this second afternoon we were stretched out on the breakwater, under the shadow of the statue of de Lesseps, watching the coming and going of the pilot-boats and the sparkle of the canal that dwindled93 to a thread on the far horizon of the yellow desert, when a portly Greek approached and asked, in Italian, if we wanted employment. We did, of course, and followed him back to land and off to the westward94 along the beach to a hovel in the native section. On the earth floor sat two massive stone mortars96. The Greek motioned to us to seat ourselves before them, poured into them some species of small nut, and handed each of us a stone pestle97. When we had fallen to work, he sat down on a stool, prepared his narghileh and, except for an occasional wave of the hand as a signal to us to empty the mortars of the beaten pulp98 and refill them, remained utterly motionless for the rest of the day.
Mechanically we pounded hour after hour. The pestles99 were heavy when we began, before the day was done my own weighed at least a ton. What we were beating up and what, in the name of Allah, we were beating it up for, I do not know to this day. The Austrian asserted that he knew the use of the product, but fell silent when I asked to be enlightened. Night sounds were drifting in through the door of the hovel when the Greek signed to us to stop, and with the air of one who feels himself to be over-generous but proud of his fault, handed each of us five small piastres (12? cents). My companion at once raised his voice in vociferous100 protest, in which, at a nudge of his elbow, I joined. The Greek was hurt to the point of tears. The ingratitude101 of man, when he had, out of the kindness of his heart, given us a whole day’s wages for a half-day’s work! How could we bring ourselves to complain when he had cut his own profit in half simply because we were men of his own color for whom he felt an 108altruistic and unmercenary sympathy? At the end of a half-hour of noisy clamoring he consented to present us each with another piastre, and we hurried away across the beach to a native shop where spitted mutton sold cheaply.
Two days later I took a “deck-passage” for Beirut and boarded a hulk flying the British flag. By sundown we lost sight of the low-lying port and set a course northeastward. A throng104 of Arabs, Turks, and Syrians, Christian105 and Mohammedan, male and female, squatted on the half-covered deck. In one scupper were piled a half-hundred wooden gratings, the use of which remained a mystery to me until my fellow-passengers fell to pulling them down one by one and spreading their beds on them. I alone, of all the multitude, was unsupplied with bedding; even the lean, gaunt Bedouins, dressed in tattered filth106, had each a roll of ragged blankets in which, their evening prayers and salaams107 towards Mecca ended, they rolled themselves and lay down together in a place apart. This dividing into groups was general, for caste lines are sharp drawn108 in the Orient and, when I stretched out on a bare grating, the entire throng was huddled in a dozen isolated109 bands, each barricaded110 by the sturdiest males.
Morning broke bright and clear. Far off to starboard rose the snow-capped range of the Lebanon; but we were bearing northward111 now, and several hours did not bring us perceptibly nearer the coast. The time was close at hand when I must learn something of the modes of travel in Asia Minor112, though, to tell the truth, I had small hope of landing, for passports were reported indispensable in this mysterious land of the Turk. I strolled anxiously about the deck. In a group of Christian Turks I came upon two who spoke113 French, and engaged them in conversation with the ulterior motive114 of “pumping” them. A few stories of the highways of Europe amused the party greatly. Casually115 I announced my intention of walking to Damascus. The interpreted statement evoked116 loud shouts of incredulity, not unmixed with derision.
“What!” cried one of the French-speaking Turks, waving a flabby hand towards the snow banks that covered the wall-like Lebanon range, “Go to Damascus on foot! Pas possible. You would be buried in the snow. This country is not like Europe! There are thousands of murderous Bedouins between here and Damascus who would glory in cutting the throat of a dog of an unbeliever! Why, I have lived years in Beirut, and no man of my acquaintance, native or Frank, would ever undertake such a journey on foot.”
109“And you would lose your way and die in the snow,” put in the other. All through the morning the pair were kept busy interpreting the opinion of the group on the absolutely unsurmountable obstacles against such an undertaking118. It was the first version of a story that grew old and threadbare before I ended my journeyings in the Orient. But it was a new tale then, told with an unoriental vehemence119, and as I ran my eye along the snow-cowled wall that faded into hazy120 distance to the north and south, I was half inclined to believe that I was nearing a land where my plans must be abandoned.
The coast line drew nearer. On the plain at the mountain foot appeared well-cultivated patches, interspersed121 with dreary122 stretches of blood-red sand. At high noon we dropped anchor well out in the harbor of Beirut. Clamoring boatmen were soon rowing first-class passengers ashore. But the red flag of quarantine was snapping in the breeze above the custom house, and as deck passengers, more likely to spread the plague than tourists well supplied with “backsheesh,” we were detained on board. Four sweltering hours had passed when a screech123 sounded ashore, and several company tenders put out from the inner harbor. Down the gangway tumbled a mighty124 cascade125 of Orientals, male and female, large and small, dirty and half dirty, pushing, kicking, scratching, and biting each other with utter disregard of color, sex, or social standing126, and hopelessly entangled127 with bundles of every conceivable shape. The sinewy128 boatmen established something like an equality of burdens by rough and ready tactics, and amid the shrieks of husbands separated from wives, children from parents, Bedouins from their priceless rolls of blankets, the tenders set off for a stern, stone building on a barren rock across the bay. The spirit of segregation129 grew contagious130. As we swung in against the rock I caught a haughty Bedouin attempting to separate me from my knapsack. A well-directed push landed him in the laps of several heavily-veiled females and I sprang up a stairway cut in the face of the rock. The building at the summit bore the star and crescent, and the title “Lazeret.” In small groups we passed into a room where a pudgy-faced man in European garments, topped by a fez, stared at me long and quizzically before he beckoned131 to the first of our party to approach. One by one my fellow passengers answered a few questions, received a paper signed by the man in the fez, and fell to quarreling with him over the price thereof. Well they knew that no amount of bellowing132 could reduce the official fee, but as Orientals they could not have purchased a postage stamp without attempting to “beat 110down” the salesman. The officer heaved a sigh of relief when I handed him without protest the five piastres demanded, and I passed on, still wondering why I had been taxed. The paper was in French as well as Turkish and informed me that I had paid for disinfection.
Some time after the last man had paid his fee—the female passengers had mysteriously disappeared—a second door swung open, an official folded our papers, tore a round hole in them, and we entered a room containing several long tables. An unwashed and officious Arab handed to each of us a garment not unlike a scanty134 nightshirt, and ordered us to strip. When our wardrobes had been laid out on the tables in separate heaps, a half-dozen ragged urchins135 appeared, rolled each heap into a bundle, and disappeared through a tight-fitting steel door. Disinfecting a Frank was, evidently, a new problem in the Lazeret of Beirut. An urchin136 stared at my clothing, bawled137 something to the unwashed official, and passed me by. The officer picked my garments up one by one with a puzzled air, handed me my sweater and suspenders, as if he did not feel that such mysterious articles could be rated as clothing, and sped away with the rest.
A long hour passed. The nightshirts lent their wearers neither dignity nor modesty. My own had been designed for the smallest of Arabs and did a white man meager138 service, but the jabbering139 natives would not have been in the least disturbed if their wardrobe had been reduced to the fig140 leaf of notorious past. The steel door opened. We filed into the next room and found our disinfected bundles arrayed on more long tables and steaming like newly-boiled cabbages. As rapidly as the garments cooled, I attired141 myself and turned out upon a tiny square before the Lazeret. Suddenly there rang out a cry for passports. An icy bubble ran up and down my spine142, but I stepped boldly forward and thrust my letter of introduction into the face of a diminutive143, white-haired officer at the gate. He received it gingerly, as if expecting it to explode in his hands, turned it up sidewise, upside down, sidewise once more, and, certain that he had found its proper position, began to run his finger up and down the lines, mumbling144 to himself and shaking his head sagely145 from side to side. Slowly he turned, eyed me suspiciously, and after several preliminary gurgles, wheezed146: “Paseeporto? Paseeporto?”
“Sure, it’s a passeporto!” I replied, nodding my head vigorously. The officer glanced from the paper to my face and back at the paper several times, plainly as helpless before a problem for which he knew no precedent147 as a child. The doctor who had made out our disinfection 111slips stepped out into the square, and the officer, knowing that he read and spoke French, rushed upon him. The good leech148 could hold the letter right side up, but he knew no more of its contents than the man who had read it sidewise. He turned to ply102 me with questions. I assured him that American passports were just such simple things, and he accepted my assertion. The officer thrust the letter into his sack—for in Turkey passports are held over night by the police and returned to the owner’s consulate150 in the morning—and waved his hand as a sign of dismissal.
Darkness had fallen and the city was some miles distant. The doctor called a sinister-looking native, attired in a single garment that reached his knees, and ordered him to guide me to the town. We set off through the night, heavy with the smell of oranges, along a narrow road, six inches deep in the softest mud. At the outskirts151 of the city the native halted and addressed me in Arabic. I shook my head. Like most uneducated Orientals, he was of the opinion that, if a full-grown Frank could not understand language intelligible152 to the smallest child of his acquaintance, it was through some fault of his hearing. He put the question again and again, louder and more rapidly with every repetition. I let him bellow133 until breath failed him and he gave up and splashed on. He halted once more in a square, reeking153 with mud, in the center of the city, and burst forth in a greater vehemence of incoherency than before.
“Ingleesee?” he shrieked154 with his last gasp155.
“No,” I answered, comprehending this one word, “Americano.”
“Ha!” shouted the Arab, “Americano?” and he began his bellowing once more. Evidently he was attempting to explain something about my fellow countrymen, for the word “americano” was often repeated. Exhausted156 once more, he struck off to the southward. I shouted “hotel” and “inn” in every language I could muster, but after a few mumbles157 he fell silent and only the splash of our feet in the muddy roadway attended our progress. We left the city behind, but still the Arab plodded158 steadily159 and silently southward. Many a quartermaster’s story of white men led into Mussulman traps passed through my mind. Far out among the orange groves160 of the suburbs he turned into a small garden and pointed161 to a lighted sign above the portal of the building among the trees. It announced the American consulate. Not knowing what else to do with a Frank who did not understand the loudest Arabic, the native had led me to the only man in Beirut to whom he had heard the term “americano” applied162.
112When I had paid my bill next morning in the French pension to which I had been directed, my worldly wealth was reduced to one English sovereign. I turned in at the office of Cook and Son and, tossing the piece to the native clerk, asked him to change it into coin of the realm, of small denomination163. He turned the sovereign over several times, bit it, laid it carefully away, and set to pulling out boxes and drawers and dumping the coins they contained on the counter before me. There were pieces of copper164, pieces of silver, pieces of bronze, tin, iron, nickel, zinc165; coins half the size of a dime166, coins that looked like tobacco tags, coins big enough with which to fell an ox, coins with holes in them, coins bent167 double, saucer-shaped coins, coins that had been scalloped around the edge by some erstwhile possessor of artistic168 temperament169 and hours of leisure; and still the clerk continued to pour out coins until I felt in duty bound, as a tolerably honest member of society, to call a halt.
“Say, old man,” I put in, “that was only a sov. I gave you, you know.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” panted the native, dumping another handful that rattled170 down the sides of the heap like a bucketful of stones on the pile under a stone crusher, “I know, and I am very sorry I have not enough to change him. But I give you this and he just make him up.”
He tossed towards me a gold piece of ten francs.
“What!” I cried, “You don’t mean that I get that heap and ten francs besides, for one quid?”
“Aywa, efendee, yes, that makes one pound,” he answered.
I pawed over the heap. Each rake brought to light pieces of new and unique pattern. “Fine collection,” I said, “but what’s the answer?”
The clerk drew a long breath as if for an extended lecture, and picked up one of the tobacco tags; “This,” he said, “is a metleek. It is worth eleven-twelfths of a half-penny. Five of these coppers171 make a metleek—only not quite—that is—here in Beirut—in Damascus five of them make a metleek and a little more. Ten metleeks make a bishleek—” he picked up one of the coins the owner of which would be arrested, in a civilized172 country, for carrying concealed173 weapons, “one bishleek—that is—except one and a half of these copper coins—that is—here—in Damascus ten metleeks make a bishleek and four coppers—except not quite—and in Sidon they make the same as in Damascus—only a little less—and these 113coins are worth the same as a bishleek—except not quite—that is—here—if they have a hole in them they are worth a copper and three-fourths—more—that is, here—in Damascus they are worth a copper and one-fourth more, and this dish-shaped one is worth three bishleeks and three metleeks and two coppers and sometimes three-fourths of a copper more, except they with holes in them which are worth two metleeks and a copper and a half more, and this mejeedieh is worth in Damascus seven bishleeks and seven metleeks and two coppers and sometimes three and sometimes here not so much by two and a half coppers and in Jerusalem—”
“And suppose it is a rainy day?”
“Oh, that does not make any difference,” said the clerk, with owl-like solemnity, “but sometimes on busy days, as on feast days, the bishleek is worth three coppers and a half more—that is, here—in Damascus it is worth two more and sometimes not so much—as in Ramadan, and in Sidon it is worth three-fourths of a copper less and in—here in Beirut—”
“Hold on, efendee,” I cried. “If you have a pencil and a ream of paper at hand—”
I understood his explanation perfectly174, of course, but I had an unconquerable dread175 of forgetting it in my sleep.
“Certainly,” cried the obliging clerk, and he dragged forth two sheets of paper and covered both with figures. Reduced to writing, the monetary176 system of Syria was simplicity177 itself. One could see through it as easily as through six inches of armor plate.
“Now, in carting this around—” I asked, tucking the sheets of paper away in a pocket, “you don’t hire a porter—”
“Ah,” said the clerk, “you have not the large purse? Our Syrians carry a purse which is very long, which is long like the stocking which it is said are worn by the lady; but if you have not such a long purse and you have not any ladies—” I drew out a large handkerchief and fell to raking the heap of coins into it. “Ah,” he cried, “that does very good, only you do not forget that in Damascus the mejeedieh is worth seven bishleeks and seven metleeks and two coppers and sometimes—” But I had escaped into the silence outside.
I reduced my burden somewhat by spending the heaviest pieces of junk for breakfast and, strolling down to the harbor, sat down on a pier178. The bedlam179 of shrieking180 stevedores181, braying182 camels, and the rattle of discharging ships drowned for some time all individual sounds. In a sudden lull183, I caught faintly a shout in English behind me and 114turned around. A lean native in European dress and fez was beckoning184 to me from the opening of one of the narrow streets. I dropped from the pier and turned shoreward. The native ran towards me. “You speak Eengleesh?” he cried, “Yes? No? What countryman you?”
“American.”
“No? Not American?” shrieked the native, dancing up and down, “You not American? Ha! ha! ver’ fine. I American one time, too. I be one time sailor on American warsheep Brooklyn. You know Brooklyn? Ver’ nice sheep, Brooklyn. You write Eengleesh, too, No? Yes? Ver’ fine! You like job? I got letters write in Eengleesh! Come, you!”
He led the way through the swarming185 bazaar186, shouting answers to the questions I put to him. He claimed the name of Abdul Razac Bundak and the profession of “bumboat-man,” one of those familiar figures of Oriental ports, a native who had picked up a fluent use of so-called English, the language of the shipping187 world, and turned it to practicable account. His activities were varied188. He sold supplies to foreign ships, acted as interpreter for officers ashore, led tourists on sight-seeing expeditions, and, in the busy season, ran a sailors’ boarding house.
Some distance back from the harbor, in a shoe shop kept by his uncle, I sat down to write three letters at Bundak’s dictation. By the time we had finished them—and a dozen cigarettes—my familiarity with other languages had leaked out, and I wrote three more, two in French and one in Spanish. With one exception, all six were bids to ship captains accustomed to visit Beirut. The bumboat-man paid me two unknown coins, and “set up” a dinner in a neighboring shop.
As I appeared during my tramp in Asia Minor. A picture taken by Abdul Razac Bundak, bumboat-man of Beirut
That afternoon we piloted a party of Germans through the labyrinthian189 bazaars190 and out across the orange groves to Dog River. Abdul chattered191 in his pidgin English, and I strove to turn his uncouth192 speech into the language of the Fatherland. In the days that followed, our “company,” as Abdul styled it, was the busiest in Beirut. The fame of Bundak’s “faranchee secretary” spread abroad. The scribes who sat in their little stands in the market-places were called upon now and then to pen letters in some European language. Hitherto, they had refused such commissions. Now they despatched an urchin to the shop in Custom-House street, before which our “company” was wont to sit dreaming over narghilehs supplied by a neighboring café, and summoned us to some distant corner of the bazaars. The priest 115in his confessional was never entrusted193 with more secrets than fell from the lips of the scribes amid the droning of Bundak, the interpreter. Had those men of letters been less indolent, the volume of their business might well-nigh have doubled. But they insisted on exercising their profession after the laggard194 manner of the East, and ever and anon drifted away into the land of day-dreams with a sentence stranded on their lips. The palm of the left hand was the writing desk to which they were accustomed; it was always with difficulty that I stirred them up to clear a space on their littered stands. They and their fathers before them had always written from right to left; they stared in amazement195 when I began in the left-hand corner. More than one burst forth in vociferous protest at this unprecedented196 use of a pen, and long harangues197 from the senior member of our firm did not always convince them that the result of my labor198 was more than meaningless scratches. The fees of this new profession were never princely. The scribes themselves received no more than a bishleek for a letter, and must supply the materials. But even from the half of our share I added something each day to the scrap199 iron in my handkerchief.
When business lagged there were but two resources left to Abdul—to eat or to drink. Let his narghileh burn out before a summons came, and the bumboat-man rose with a yawn and we rambled200 away through the intricate windings201 of the bazaars to some tiny tavern202, tucked away in an utterly unexpected corner. The keepers were always delighted to be awakened203 from their siestas204 by our “company.” While we sat on a log or an upturned basket and sipped205 a glass of some native concoction which the proprietor206 placed on the ground—there being no floor—at our feet, Abdul spun207 long tales of the faranchee world. They were bold forays into the field of fiction, most of them, but with a live faranchee to serve as illustration, the shopkeepers were never critical and listened open-mouthed, after the fashion of all children of the East before a story teller208.
There was really no reason why these taverns209 should not have supplied all our wants during the day, for the “free lunch” system, that has long been credited to America, is indigenous210 to Beirut. With every drink the keeper served a half-dozen tiny dishes of hazelnuts, radishes, peas in the pod, cold squares of boiled potatoes, and berries and vegetables known only in Syria. But Abdul was gifted with an inexhaustible appetite, and at least once after every transaction he led the way to one of the many eating-shops facing the busiest 116streets and squares. In a gloomy grotto211, the front of which was all door, stood two long tables of the roughest materials, flanked by rougher benches with barely space enough between them for the passage of clients. The proprietor rarely stirred from behind a great block of brick and mortar95 near the entrance, over which simmered a score of black kettles. I read the bill of fare by raising the covers of each caldron in succession, chose a dish of the least unfathomable mystery, picked up a discus-shaped loaf and a cruse of water from the bench at the entrance, and retreated to the rear. Whatever I chose, it was almost certain to contain mutton. The sheep appears in sundry213 and strange disguises in the Mohammedan world. The Arabian cook, however, sets nothing over the fire until he has cut it into small pieces, and each dinner was an almost unbroken succession of stews214 of varying tastes and colors. Each order, whether of meat or vegetables, we ate separately, with a bread-cake.
Abdul rarely concerned himself with the contents of the kettles, for his unrivaled favorite was a dish prepared by running alternately tiny cubes of liver and kidneys on a spit and revolving215 them over the glowing coals. I, too, should have ordered this delicacy216 more often had not Abdul, with his incurable217 “Eengleesh,” persisted in referring to it as “kittens.” I parted from the bumboat-man each evening; for, though his home was roomy enough, he was a true Mohammedan and would never have thought of introducing even his business partner into the same building with his wives. Beds were good and rates low in the native inns. Though we lived right royally in Beirut, my expenses were rarely twenty-five cents a day.
With all its mud and squalor there was something marvelously pleasing about this corner of the Arab world. The lazy droning of its shopkeepers, the roll of the incoming sea, the twitter of birds that spoke of summer and seemed to belie117 the calendar, above all, the picturesque218 contrast of orange trees bending under the ripening219 fruit that perfumed the soft air, with the snowdrifts almost within stone’s throw on the peaks above, lent to the spot a charm unique. For all that, I should not have remained so long in Beirut by choice, for the road was long before me, and to each day I had allotted220 its portion of the journey. The traveler in the East, however, must learn that he cannot lay plans and expect to hold to them as at home. To the Oriental it is entirely immaterial whether he sets out to-day or to-morrow, and the view point of the Frank is beyond his grasp. Had you planned a departure for Monday and find 117that some petty obstacle makes it impossible? “Oh! well,” says the native, “Tuesday is as good a day as Monday. Wait until to-morrow.” Does Tuesday bring some new difficulty? The native will repeat his consoling advice just as jauntily221 as if he had not worn it threadbare the day before. The expression “wasting time” has no meaning whatever to the Oriental. Twenty-four hours does not represent to him one-half the value of one of his miserable222 copper coins. A certain number of days must run by between his birth and death. What matters it just how he occupies himself during that period? He is, perhaps, a bit happier if a task already planned must be put off, for the postponement223 reduces the sum-total of exertion224 of his allotted span, and nothing does the Oriental hate so much as exertion.
The officials of the Porte, imbued225 with this philosophy of life, were in no haste to examine my papers. Not until my third visit to the consulate did the air of consternation226 with which the American representative met me at the door inform me that my letter had been returned.
“What the devil did you pass this note as a passport for?” shouted the consul149; “Why, man, in ten years I never heard of a man entering Turkish territory without a passport—except one, and he was fined a hundred pounds.”
“Tourist, wasn’t he?” I answered, “I’ve found that workingmen pass more easily.”
“In Europe, perhaps,” said the consul, “but not here. Now don’t venture into the interior until you have a teskereh—a local passport—unless you want to be shipped to one of the Sick Man’s dungeons227 on the double quick.”
Four days passed before this document, with its description of my features in the unfathomable orthography228 of the Turk, was ready. Even had I received it earlier, it is by no means certain that I could have set out for Damascus at once. Native or Frank, not a resident of Beirut admitted knowing which of her reeking alleyways led to the foothills to the eastward. Abdul threw up his hands in startled horror when I broached229 the subject of my intended journey. “Impossible!” he shrieked, “There is not road. You be froze in the snow before the Bedouins cut your liver. You no can go. Business good. Damascus no good. Ver’ col’ in Damascus now.”
It cost me a day’s earnings230 one afternoon among the tavern keepers to revive his flagging memory before he recalled that there was a road 118to Damascus, and that caravans232 had been known to pass over it; but even in such good spirits he persisted with great vehemence that the journey could not be made on foot.
The bumboat-man left me next morning at the outskirts of the city and a bend in the road soon hid him from view. For an hour the highway was perfectly level, flanked by rich gardens and orange groves, and thronged233 with dusky, supple-limbed men and women garbed234 in flowing sheets. Soon all this changed. The road wound upward, the delicate orange tree gave place to the sturdy olive, the fertile gardens to haggard hillsides, the gay throng to an occasional Arab, grim and austere236 of visage, leading or riding a swaying camel. Over the dull solitude237 fell a silence broken only by the rising wind sighing mournfully through the jagged gullies and stocky trees. The summer breeze of the sea level turned chilly238 and I found it worth while to seek the sunny side of a boulder239 before broaching240 the lunch in my knapsack. Nearer the summit of the first range the aspect was less dreary. The cedar241 forests began and broke the monotony of the ragged landscape. Here and there a group of peasants was grubbing on the wayside slopes. To the north or south a flat-roofed village clung to a mountain flank.
How strange and foreign seemed everything about me! The implements242 of the peasants, the food in my knapsack, the very tobacco in my pipe, every detail of custom and costume seemed but to widen the vast gulf243 between this and my accustomed world. If I addressed a fellow-wayfarer, he answered back an incomprehensible jumble244 of words, wound the folds of his unfamiliar245 garments about him, and hurried on. If I caught sight of a village clock, its hands pointed to six when the hour was midday. Even the familiar name of the famous city to which I was bound was meaningless to the natives, for they called it “Shaam.”
My pronunciation of the word was at fault, no doubt, for though I stood long at a fork in the route in the early afternoon shouting “Shaam” at each passer-by, I took the wrong branch. Some hours I had tramped along a rapidly deteriorating246 highway before a suspicion of this mistake assailed247 me. Even then, with no means to verify it, I kept on. At last the route emerged from a cutting, and the shimmering248 sea almost at my feet showed that I was marching due southward. Two peasants appeared above a rise of ground beyond. As they drew near, I pointed off down the road and shouted “Shaam?” The pair halted, wonderingly, in the center of the highway some distance 119from me. “Shaam! Shaam! Shaam!” I repeated, striving to give the word an accentuation that would suggest the interrogation point that went with it. The peasants stared open-mouthed, drew back several paces, and peered down the road and back at me a dozen times, as if undecided whether I was calling their attention to some phenomenon of nature or attempting to distract their attention long enough to pick their pockets. Then a slow, half-hearted smile broke out on the features of the quicker witted. He stood first on one leg, then on the other, squinted249 along the highway once more, and began to repeat after me, “Shaam! Shaam! Shaam.”
“Aywa, Shaam!” I cried.
He turned to his companion. The parley250 that ensued was long enough to have settled all differences of opinion in politics, religion, and the rotation251 of crops. Then both began to shake their heads so vigorously that the muscles of their necks stood out like steel hawsers252. Two broad grins that were meant to be reassuring253 distorted their leathery visages. They stretched out their arms to the southward and burst forth in unharmonious duet: “La! la! la! la! la! Shaam! la! la! la! la! la!” The Arab says “la” when he means “no.” I turned about and hurried back the way I had come.
Dusk was falling when I traversed for the second time a two-row village facing the highway. As I expected, there was not a building in any way resembling an inn. For the Arab, even of the twentieth century, considers it a sin that “the stranger within his gates” shall be obliged to put up at a public house. I had already seen enough of the Syrian, however, to know the chief weakness of his character—insatiable curiosity. One thing he cannot do is mind his own business. Is there a trade going on, a debt being paid, a quarrel raging? The vociferations of bargaining, the jingle254 of money, the angry shrieks drive from his head every thought of his own affairs, and he hastens to join the increasing throng around the parties interested, to offer his advice and bellow his criticisms. I sat down on a boulder at the end of the village.
In three minutes a small crowd had collected. In ten, half the population was swarming around me and roaring at my vain attempt to address them, as at some entertainment specially255 arranged for their enjoyment256. A good half-hour of incessant257 chattering258 ensued before one of the band motioned to me to follow him, and turned back into the village. The multitude surged closely around me, examining minutely every article of my apparel that was visible, grinning, smirking259, 120running from one side to the other, lest they lose some point in the make-up of so strange a creature, and babbling260 the while like an army of apes.
The leader turned off the highway towards the largest building in the village. Ten yards from the door he halted, the multitude formed a semicircle, leaving me in the center like the chief buffoon261 in a comic opera ensemble262, and one and all began to bellow at the top of his lungs. A girl of some sixteen years appeared on the threshold. “Taala hena!” (come here) roared the chorus. The girl ran down the steps. A roar as of an angry sea burst forth as every member of the company stretched out an arm towards me. Plainly, each was determined263 that he, and not his neighbor, should have the distinction of introducing this novel being.
“Sprechen Sie Deutsch?” shrieked the girl in my ear.
“Ja wohl,” I answered.
The rabble264 fell utterly silent at the first word, and I asked to be directed to an inn.
“There is no hotel in our city of Bhamdoon,” replied the girl, with flashing eyes; “We should be insulted. In this house, with my family, lives a German missionary265 lady. You must stop here.”
She led the way to the door. The missionary met me on the steps with a cry of delight, which she hastened to excuse on the ground that she had not seen a European in many months.
“What would supper and lodging cost me here?” I demanded. The habit of making such an inquiry had become almost an instinct among the grasping innkeepers of Europe. Luckily, the German lady was hard of hearing. The girl gave me a quick glance, half scornful, half astonished, which reminded me that such a question is an insult in the land of the Arabs.
“The lady is busy, now,” said the girl, “come and visit my family.”
She led the way along a hall and threw open a door. I pulled off my cap.
“Keep it on,” said my guide, “and leave your shoes there.”
She stepped out of her own loose slippers266 and into the room. It was square and low, the stone floor half covered with mats and cushions; in the center glowed a small, sheet-iron stove, and around three of the walls ran a divan267. Two men, two women, and several children were seated in a semicircle on the floor, their legs folded in front of them. They rose without a word as I entered. The girl placed a cushion for me on the floor. The family sat down again, carefully and 121leisurely adjusted their legs, and then one and all, in regular succession, according to age, cried “lailtak saeedee” (good evening).
In the center of the group set three large bowls, one of lentils and another of chopped-up potatoes in oil. The third contained a delicacy made of sour milk—a cross between a soup and a pudding, that is a great favorite among the Arabs. On the floor, beside each member of the family, lay several sheets of bread, half a yard in diameter and as thin as cardboard, each heap bearing a close resemblance to the famous “stack of wheats” of our own land. The head of the house pushed the bowls toward me, ordered a stack of bread to be placed beside my cushion, and motioned to me to eat. I stared helplessly at the bowls, for there was neither knife, fork, nor spoon in sight. The girl, however, knowing the ways of faranchees from years in a mission-school in Beirut, explained my perplexity to her father. He cast upon me such a look as an American society leader might bestow268 upon an Australian Bushman at her table, begged my pardon, through his daughter, for overriding269 the dictates270 of etiquette271 by partaking of a morsel272 before his guest had begun, tore a few inches from a bread-sheet, and folding it between his fingers, picked up a pinch of lentils and ate. I lost no time in falling to.
A wonderful invention is this gkebis or Arab bread. If one purchases food in a native bazaar, it is wrapped in a bread-sheet—and a very serviceable wrapper it is, for it requires a good grip and a fair pair of biceps to tear it. A bread-sheet takes the place of many table utensils273: arab matrons, ’tis said, never complain of their dishwashing tasks. It makes a splendid cover for pots and pans, it does well as a waiter’s tray. Never have I seen it used to cover roofs, nor as shaving paper—but the Oriental is noted274 for his inability to make the most of his opportunities. In its primary mission—as an article of food—however, gkebis is not an unqualified success. In taste it is not always unsavory, but ten minutes chewing makes far less impression on it than on a rubber mat. It is rumored276, too, that more than one Frank has lost his appetite in striving to pronounce its guttural Arabic name. Very often—as on this occasion—when weeks have passed since its baking, the gkebis grows brittle277 and is inclined to break when used as a spoon. My host picked up one of my sheets, held it against the glowing stove with the flat of his hand, and returned it. It was as pliable278 as cloth and much more toothsome than before.
The younger man rolled cigarettes for the three of us. We 122had settled back to chat—through interpreter—when there came a tap at the door and a few words in Arabic that caused the family to jump hurriedly to their feet. An awe-struck whisper passed from mouth to mouth; “sheik! sheik!” The children were whisked into one corner, the door flung open, and there entered a diminutive man of about sixty. Long, flowing robes enveloped279 his form, a turban-wound fez perched almost jauntily on his head, and his feet were bare, for he had dropped his slippers at the door. His face, above all, attracted attention. Deep-wrinkled, with a long scar across one cheek, a visage browned and weather-beaten by the wild storms that sometimes rage over the Lebanon, there was about it an expression of frankness; yet from his eyes there flashed shrewd, worldly-wise glances that stamped him as a man vastly different from his simple fellow-townsmen.
The sheik greeted the head of the family, took a seat near me on the divan, salaamed280 solemnly to each person present, acknowledged the greetings they returned, and with a wave of his hand bade them be seated. The newcomer had, quite plainly, been attracted to the house by the rumor275 that a faranchee was visiting the family. After a few preliminary remarks, the drift of which I could follow from his expressive281 gestures and the few words I had picked up, he turned the conversation, with the ease of a diplomat282, to the subject of their strange guest. My hosts needed no urging. For a time the sheik listened to their explanations and suppositions with an unruffled mien283, puffing284 the while at a cigarette with as blasé an air as if faranchees were the most ordinary beings to him.
As a climax285 to his tale the head of the house remarked that I was bound to “Shaam” on foot. The ending was fully55 as effective as he could have hoped. The sheik fairly bounded into the air, threw his cigarette at the open stove, and burst forth into an excited tirade286. The girl interpreted. It was the old story of “impossible,” “can’t be done,” and the rest; but a new element was introduced into a threadbare prediction; for the sheik declared that, as village magistrate287, he would not permit me to continue in such a foolhardy undertaking. How many weapons did I carry? None? What? No weapon? Travel to far-off Damascus without being armed? Why, his own villagers never ventured along the highway to the nearest towns without their guns! He would not hear of it; and he was still disclaiming288 as only an excited Oriental can, when the missionary came to invite me to a second supper.
123I took leave of my host early next morning, swung my knapsack over my shoulder, and limped down to the road. But Bhamdoon was not yet done with me. In the center of the highway, in front of the little shop of which he was proprietor, stood the sheik and several fellow townsmen. With great politeness, he invited me to step inside. My feet were still swollen289 and blistered290 from the long tramp of the day before, for the cloth slippers of Port Sa?d offered no more protection from the sharp stones of the highway than a sheet of paper, and I accepted the invitation. The village head placed a stool for me in the front of the shop, in full sight from up or down the route. It soon became evident that I was on exhibition as a freak of humanity, for the sheik pointed me out with great delight to every passer-by. Apparently291, too, he had chosen this opportune292 moment to collect some village tax. On the floor beside me stood an earthenware293 pot, and the sheik, as soon as his exhibit had been viewed from all sides, called upon each newcomer to drop into it a bishleek (ten cents). Like true Orientals, they gave smaller pieces, some half bishleeks, some one or two metleeks; but not a man passed without contributing his mite41, for the command of the sheik of a Syrian village is law to all its inhabitants.
Some time I had served as a bait for tax-dodgers when a villager I had not yet seen put in an appearance, and addressed me in fluent English. He had gathered a Syrian fortune in Maine and returned, years before, to the rugged294 slopes of his native Lebanon. He insisted that I visit his house nearby and, once there, fell to tucking bread-sheets, black olives, raisins295, and pieces of sugar-cane into any knapsack, shouting incessantly296 at the same time of his undying affection for America and things American. Out of mere212 pride for his bleak297 country, he took care, on the way back to the shop, to point out a narrow path that wound up the steep slope of a neighboring range.
“That,” he said, “leads to the Damascus road. But no man can journey to Damascus on foot.”
The earthenware pot was almost full when I took my seat again on the stool. I turned to my new acquaintance.
“What special taxes is the sheik gathering298 this morning?” I demanded.
“Eh! What?” cried the erstwhile New Englander, following the indication of my finger, “The pot? Why, don’t you know what that’s for?”
“No,” I answered.
124“Why, that is a collection the sheik is taking up to buy you a ticket to Damascus on the railroad.”
I picked up my knapsack from the floor and stepped into the highway. The sheik and several bystanders threw themselves upon me with cries of dismay. It was no use attempting to escape from a dozen horny hands. I permitted myself to be led back to the stool and sat down with the knapsack across my knees. The sheik addressed me in soothing299 tones, pointing at the pot with every third word. The others resumed their seats on the floor, rolled new cigarettes, and fell quiet once more. With one leap I sprang from the stool into the street and set off at top speed down the highway, a screaming, howling, ever-increasing but ever more distant throng at my heels. A half-hour later I gained the summit of the neighboring range and slid down the opposite slope onto the highway to Damascus.
For miles the road ascended300 sharply, elbowing its way through narrow gorges301, or crawling along the face of a mountain where its edge was a yawning precipice302. The giant cedars303 of the first slopes had given way to clumps304 of stunted305 dwarfs306, cowering307 in deep-cut ravines behind protecting shoulders of the range. Few were the villages, and being low and flat and built of the same calcareous rock as the mountains, they escaped the eye until one was almost upon them. In every hamlet one or more of the householders marched back and forth on the top of his dwelling308, dragging after him a great stone roller and chanting a mournful dirge309 that seemed to cheer him on in his labor. At first sight these flat roofs seem to be of heavy blocks of stone. In reality they are made of branches and bushes, plastered over with mud, and, were the rolling neglected for a fortnight in this rainy season, they would soon sag103 and fall in of their own weight. More frequent than the villages were the ruins of a more pretentious310 generation, standing bleak and drear on commanding hillsides and adding to the haggard desolation. At long intervals311 appeared a line of camels, plodding312 westward with a tread of formal dignity, a company of villagers on horseback, or a straggling band of evil-eyed Bedouins astride lean asses11. Never a human being alone, never a man on foot, and never a traveler without a long gun slung313 across his shoulders. The villagers stared at me open-mouthed, the camel drivers leered sarcastically314, the scowling Bedouins halted to watch my retreating form as if undecided whether I was worth the robbing.
125The snow, which, seen from Beirut, seemed to cover the entire summit of the range in impenetrable drifts, lay in isolated patches along the way. Here was no such Arctic realm as Abdul had pictured. The air was crisp at noonday; by night, no doubt, it would have been bitter cold—mere autumn weather to us of northern clime. But it was easy to understand why those accustomed to the perpetual summer of the coast had fancied the passage an unprecedented hardship.
At the summit, the snow lay deeper. Far below stretched a rectangular tableland, a fertile plain dotted with clusters of dwellings315, and shut in on every side by mountain ranges. Across it, like a white ribbon, lay the Damascus highway, growing smaller and smaller, to be lost in tortuous316 windings in the foothills beyond.
I reached the plain by evening and halted in a hamlet not far off the city of Zakleh. Among the heavy-handed peasants who surrounded me was one who had labored317 long enough in Italy to have picked up a smattering of her language. We of the West might well take lessons in hospitality from the Arab. Imagine a Syrian arriving at night and on foot in, let us say, a village of rural Kansas; a Syrian in native costume who, in answer to the questions put to him could do no more than point to the road across the prairie and gurgle some such word as “Chikak! Cheekako!” each time with a different accent. An Arabic-speaking villager, arriving on the scene, would, possibly, pause to inquire the stranger’s wants. He might direct him to an inn, but he would not consider it his duty to put himself to the annoyance318 of seeing that he found it. Such was not the Italian-speaking Arab’s notion of the proper treatment of strangers. He took personal charge of me at once, led the way to the caravanserai, acted as interpreter, quarreled with the proprietor when he tried to overcharge me, and to save me a dismal evening surrounded by a jabbering multitude, remained until late at night.
I took leave of him at the door of a stone stable—the only lodging which the hamlet offered. The few camel drivers already gathered there were well supplied with bags and blankets which they made no offer to share with me. When I had watched them chasing through the mysteries and hiding-places of their manifold garments the nimble creatures with which they were infected, I lay down on the cobblestone floor without a sigh of regret. Long before morning, however, I should gladly have accepted the most flea-bitten covering. The kodak that served me as a pillow rattled hour after hour with my shivering. 126I shivered until my neck and arms ached with the exertion of vainly trying to hold myself still, and never before had I realized the astonishing length of a December night.
I put off with the first suspicion of dawn and was already halfway319 across the plain when the sun climbed the mountain rampart to the eastward. To the natives the morning was bitter cold. Bands of laborers320 on their way to the fields grinned at me sympathetically and passed their hands over the scarfs wound round and round their necks and heads. They were certain that, with face and ears unprotected, I was suffering acutely; yet each and all of them, in low slippers, was bare of leg halfway to the knee.
Where the plain ended the highway wound upward through a narrow, rocky defile321. Marauding Bedouins could not have chosen a better spot to lie in wait for their victims. I started in alarm when a shout rang out at the summit of the pass. The summons came from no highwayman, however. Before a ruined hut on the hill above, stood a man in khaki uniform, the reins322 of a saddle horse that grazed at his feet over one arm. “Teskereh!” he bawled. I climbed the hillside and handed over my Turkish passport. The officer grew friendly at once, tethered his horse, and invited me into the hut. Its only furnishings were a mat-covered bench that served the guardian323 as a bed, and a pan of coals. I drew out a few coins and ate an imaginary breakfast. The officer could not—or would not—understand my pantomime. He motioned me to a seat, offered a cigarette, and poured out a cup of muddy coffee from a pot over the coals. But food he would not bring forth.
While we sat grinning speechlessly at each other, the tinkle324 of a bell sounded up the pass. The officer sprang to his feet and hurried down the hill. Not once before had I been called upon to produce the teskereh which the American consul had assured me was indispensable, and a suspicion that one-half the amount it had cost would have sufficed to blind the officers of the Porte to its absence grew to conviction at this Thermopyl? of the Lebanon. A war of words sounded from the highway. I stepped to the door. The soldier and the driver of an overburdened ass10 were screaming at each other in the center of the route. When the quarrel had reached its height, the traveler dropped something into the guardsman’s hand and continued on his way. The officer climbed the hill, smiling broadly, “Teskereh, ma feesh!” he cried, “Etnane bishleek!” (he had no teskereh! Two bishleeks); and he dropped the coins with a rattle into a stocking-like purse that was by no means empty. I drew him out of the hut and, once in the sunshine, opened my kodak. He gave one wild shriek22 and stumbled over himself in his haste to regain325 the hovel; nor could any amount of wheedling326 induce him to venture forth again until I had closed the apparatus327. Accepting a bribe328 was a mere matter of business; to have his picture taken was a sure way to future perdition.
The lonely, Bedouin-infected road over the Lebanon. “Few corners of the globe offer more utter solitude than Syria and Palestine”
The Palestine beast of burden loaded with stone
127Beyond the pass stretched mile after mile of desolation absolute, hills upon hills sank down behind each other, barren and drear, except for an occasional olive tree, a sturdy form of vegetation that, in itself, added to the general loneliness. Few corners of the globe can equal in fearful stretches of utter solitude this land so aptly termed, in Biblical phraseology, “the waste places of the earth.” All through the day I tramped on, with never a sight nor sound of an animate329 object, save once in mid-afternoon, when I broke my fast on bread-sheets and cakes of ground sugar-cane at an isolated shop. Darkness fell over the same haggard wilderness330. The wind, howling across the solitary331 waste, filled my ears. On this blackest of nights I could not have made out a ghost a yard away, and the unknown highway led me into many a pitfall332. Long hours after sunset I was plodding blindly on, my cloth slippers making not a sound, when I ran squarely into the arms of some species of human whose native footwear had rendered his approach as noiseless as my own. Three startled male voices rang out in guttural shrieks of “Allah”—Arabic invocations, evidently, against evil spirits—as the trio sprang back in terror.
Before I could pass on, one of them—plainly a materialist—struck a match. The howling wind blew it out instantly, but in that brief flicker333 I caught sight of three ugly faces under a headdress that belongs to the roving Bedouin. With a simultaneous scream of “Faranchee!” the nomads334 flung themselves upon the particular corner of the darkness where the match had shown me standing. The motive of their attack, perhaps, was Oriental hospitality. In the excitement of the moment I credited them with a desire to increase their capital in the kingdom of black-eyed houris, and evacuated335 the spot by a bit of side stepping that would have won me fame in the roped arena336. In my haste to execute the man?uvre, however, I fell off the highway, and the rattling337 of stones under my feet precipitated338 another charge. A dozen times during the ensuing game of hide-and-seek I felt the breath of one of the flea-bitten rascals339 in my face. The Arabic rules of the game, fortunately, required the players to keep up a continual 128howling for mutual340 encouragement, while I moved silently, after the fashion of the West. Aided by this unfair advantage, I eluded341 their welcoming embraces until they stopped for a consultation342, and, creeping noiselessly on hands and knees, I lay hold on the highway and sped silently away, by no means certain whether I was headed towards Damascus or the coast.
An hour later the howling of dogs heralded343 my approach to some hamlet. Once in it, I halted to listen for sounds of human life. Its inhabitants, apparently, were lost in slumber344, for what Syrian could be awake and silent? The lights that shone from every hovel proved nothing, for the Arab nations are unaccountably fearful of the evil spirits that lurk345 in the darkness. I beat off the snapping curs and started on again. Suddenly muffled346 peals347 of laughter and the excited voices of male and female sounded from the depths of a building before me. I hurried towards it and knocked loudly on the iron-studded door. The festivities ceased as suddenly as if I had touched an electric button controlling them. For several moments the silence was absolute. Then there came the slapping of slippered348 feet along the passageway inside, and a woman’s voice called out to me. I summoned up my limited Arabic: “M’abarafshee arabee! Faranchee! Fee wahed locanda? Bnam!” (I don’t speak Arabic! Foreigner! Is there an inn? Sleep!). Without a word the unknown lady slapped back along the corridor. A good five minutes elapsed. I knocked once more and again there came the patter of feet. This time a man’s gruff voice greeted me. I repeated my Arabic vocabulary. There sounded the sliding of innumerable bolts and bars, the massive door opened ever so slightly, and the muzzle349 of a matchlock was thrust out into my face.
The eyes that appeared above it were evidently satisfied with their inspection350. The door was thrown wide open, and a very Hercules of a native, with a mustache that would have put the Kaiser to shame, stepped out, holding his clumsy gun ready for instant use. I could not but laugh at his frightened aspect. He smiled sheepishly and, retreating into the house, returned in a moment unarmed, and carrying a lamp and a rush mat. At one end of the building he pushed open a door that hung by one hinge and lighted me into a room with earth floor and one window, from which five of the six panes351 were missing. A heap of dried branches at one end stamped it as a wood shed.
A gaunt cur wandered in at our heels. The native drove him off, spread the mat on the ground and brought from the house a pan of 129live coals. I called for food. When he returned with several bread-sheets, I drew out my handkerchief and began to untie352 it. My host shook his head fiercely, made the sign of the cross and pointed several times at the ceiling, implying, evidently, that he was a convert of the Catholic missionaries353 and that the Allah of the Christians354 would pay my bill.
Barely had the native disappeared when the dog poked355 his ugly head through the half-open door and snarled viciously at me. He was a wolfish animal of the yellow mongrel variety so common in Syria, and in his eye gleamed a rascality that gave him a startling resemblance to the thieving nomads that infect that drear land. I drove him off and made the door fast, built a roaring fire of twigs356, and rolling up in the mat, lay down beside the blaze. I awoke from a half-conscious nap to find that irrepressible cur sniffing357 at me and displaying his ugly fangs358 within six inches of my face. A dozen times I fastened the door against him in vain. Had he merely bayed the moon all night it would have mattered little, for with a fire to tend I had small chance to sleep; but his silent skulking359 and muffled snarls360 kept me wide-eyed with apprehension361 until the grey of dawn peeped in at the ragged window.
The village was named Hemeh—a station of the railway from the coast not far beyond told me as much. The dreary ranges of the day before fell quickly away. The highway descended362 a narrow, fertile valley in close company with a small river, on the banks of which grew willows363 and poplars in profusion364.
A bright morning sun soon made the air grateful, though the chill of night and the mountains still hovered365 in the shadows. Travelers became frequent; peasant families driving their asses homeward from the morning market, bands of merchants on horseback, well-to-do natives in a garb235 that recalled the ill-omened coat of Joseph. Here passed a camel caravan231 whose drivers would, perhaps, purchase just such a slave of his brothers this very day. There squatted a band of Bedouins at breakfast and their eating was as ceremonial as any meal among the ancient Jews. Beyond rode a full-bearded sheik who was surely as much a patriarch in appearance as Abraham of old.
The road continued its descent, the passing throng became almost a procession, and I swung at last round a mountain spur that had hidden from view an unequaled sight. Two miles away, across a vast, level plain, traversed by the sparkling river, and peopled by a battalion366 of soldiers in man?uvre, the white city of Damascus stood out against 130a background of dull-red hills, the morning sun gleaming on graceful367 domes368 and minarets369 of superb Saracenic architecture. It was an ultra-Oriental panorama370 before which that first quatrain of Omar sprang unbidden to the lips. I passed on with the throng and was soon swallowed up in the multitude that surged through “the Street called Straight”—which isn’t.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
placid
|
|
| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
eastward
|
|
| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
sweeping
|
|
| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
promenade
|
|
| n./v.散步 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
gorged
|
|
| v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的过去式和过去分词 )；作呕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
valiantly
|
|
| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
famished
|
|
| adj.饥饿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
dismal
|
|
| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
brasses
|
|
| n.黄铜( brass的名词复数 )；铜管乐器；钱；黄铜饰品（尤指马挽具上的黄铜圆片） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
ass
|
|
| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
asses
|
|
| n. 驴，愚蠢的人，臀部 adv. (常用作后置)用于贬损或骂人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
modesty
|
|
| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
throb
|
|
| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
marionette
|
|
| n.木偶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
gulls
|
|
| n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
rattle
|
|
| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
swarmed
|
|
| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
countless
|
|
| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
denizens
|
|
| n.居民，住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
stranded
|
|
| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
shrieks
|
|
| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
shriek
|
|
| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
maze
|
|
| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
ashore
|
|
| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
snarling
|
|
| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
scowling
|
|
| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
vividly
|
|
| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
diabolical
|
|
| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
lone
|
|
| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
assassination
|
|
| n.暗杀；暗杀事件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
hordes
|
|
| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
rascality
|
|
| 流氓性，流氓集团 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
33
inferno
|
|
| n.火海；地狱般的场所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
wharves
|
|
| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
conspicuously
|
|
| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
wharf
|
|
| n.码头，停泊处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
assertive
|
|
| adj.果断的，自信的，有冲劲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
whining
|
|
| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
muster
|
|
| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
vengeance
|
|
| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
mite
|
|
| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
prophesied
|
|
| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
lodging
|
|
| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
proficient
|
|
| adj.熟练的，精通的；n.能手，专家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
wont
|
|
| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
undoubtedly
|
|
| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
inquiry
|
|
| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
shrug
|
|
| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
crooked
|
|
| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
snarled
|
|
| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
alley
|
|
| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
joyfully
|
|
| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
huddled
|
|
| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
disconsolately
|
|
| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
waded
|
|
| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
tattered
|
|
| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
sleepers
|
|
| n.卧铺（通常以复数形式出现）；卧车( sleeper的名词复数 )；轨枕；睡觉（呈某种状态）的人；小耳环 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
shutters
|
|
| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
exclamations
|
|
| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
squatted
|
|
| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
heterogeneous
|
|
| adj.庞杂的；异类的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
woolen
|
|
| adj.羊毛(制)的；毛纺的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
mangled
|
|
| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
divulge
|
|
| v.泄漏(秘密等)；宣布，公布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
myriads
|
|
| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
jaded
|
|
| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
densely
|
|
| ad.密集地；浓厚地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
toil
|
|
| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
pompous
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
strutted
|
|
| 趾高气扬地走，高视阔步( strut的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
followers
|
|
| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
mused
|
|
| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
croaked
|
|
| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
bloody
|
|
| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
monastery
|
|
| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
serene
|
|
| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
tawny
|
|
| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
dispensed
|
|
| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
edible
|
|
| n.食品，食物；adj.可食用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
defunct
|
|
| adj.死亡的；已倒闭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
concoction
|
|
| n.调配(物)；谎言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
nether
|
|
| adj.下部的，下面的；n.阴间；下层社会 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
dexterity
|
|
| n.(手的)灵巧，灵活 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
dwindled
|
|
| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
westward
|
|
| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
mortar
|
|
| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
mortars
|
|
| n.迫击炮( mortar的名词复数 )；砂浆；房产；研钵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
pestle
|
|
| n.杵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
pulp
|
|
| n.果肉，纸浆；v.化成纸浆，除去...果肉，制成纸浆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
pestles
|
|
| n.（捣碎或碾磨用的）杵( pestle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
vociferous
|
|
| adj.喧哗的，大叫大嚷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
ingratitude
|
|
| n.忘恩负义 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
ply
|
|
| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
sag
|
|
| v.下垂，下跌，消沉；n.下垂，下跌，凹陷，[航海]随风漂流 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
throng
|
|
| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
filth
|
|
| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
salaams
|
|
| （穆斯林的）额手礼，问安，敬礼( salaam的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
108
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
isolated
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
barricaded
|
|
| 设路障于，以障碍物阻塞( barricade的过去式和过去分词 )； 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
northward
|
|
| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
minor
|
|
| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
casually
|
|
| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
evoked
|
|
| [医]诱发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
belie
|
|
| v.掩饰，证明为假 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
undertaking
|
|
| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
vehemence
|
|
| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
hazy
|
|
| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
interspersed
|
|
| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
screech
|
|
| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
cascade
|
|
| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
entangled
|
|
| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
sinewy
|
|
| adj.多腱的，强壮有力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
segregation
|
|
| n.隔离，种族隔离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
contagious
|
|
| adj.传染性的，有感染力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
beckoned
|
|
| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
bellowing
|
|
| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
bellow
|
|
| v.吼叫，怒吼；大声发出，大声喝道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
scanty
|
|
| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
urchins
|
|
| n.顽童( urchin的名词复数 )；淘气鬼；猬；海胆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
urchin
|
|
| n.顽童；海胆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
bawled
|
|
| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
meager
|
|
| adj.缺乏的，不足的，瘦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
jabbering
|
|
| v.急切而含混不清地说( jabber的现在分词 )；急促兴奋地说话；结结巴巴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
fig
|
|
| n.无花果(树) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
attired
|
|
| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
spine
|
|
| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
diminutive
|
|
| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
mumbling
|
|
| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
sagely
|
|
| adv. 贤能地，贤明地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
wheezed
|
|
| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
precedent
|
|
| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
leech
|
|
| n.水蛭，吸血鬼，榨取他人利益的人；vt.以水蛭吸血；vi.依附于别人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
consul
|
|
| n.领事；执政官 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
consulate
|
|
| n.领事馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
outskirts
|
|
| n.郊外，郊区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
intelligible
|
|
| adj.可理解的，明白易懂的，清楚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
reeking
|
|
| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
shrieked
|
|
| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
gasp
|
|
| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
mumbles
|
|
| 含糊的话或声音，咕哝( mumble的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
plodded
|
|
| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
groves
|
|
| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
applied
|
|
| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
denomination
|
|
| n.命名，取名，(度量衡、货币等的)单位 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
copper
|
|
| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
zinc
|
|
| n.锌；vt.在...上镀锌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
dime
|
|
| n.（指美国、加拿大的钱币）一角 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
artistic
|
|
| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
temperament
|
|
| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
rattled
|
|
| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
coppers
|
|
| 铜( copper的名词复数 )； 铜币 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
civilized
|
|
| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
monetary
|
|
| adj.货币的，钱的；通货的；金融的；财政的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
pier
|
|
| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
bedlam
|
|
| n.混乱，骚乱；疯人院 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
shrieking
|
|
| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
stevedores
|
|
| n.码头装卸工人，搬运工( stevedore的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
braying
|
|
| v.发出驴叫似的声音( bray的现在分词 )；发嘟嘟声；粗声粗气地讲话（或大笑）；猛击 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
lull
|
|
| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
beckoning
|
|
| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
swarming
|
|
| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
bazaar
|
|
| n.集市，商店集中区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
shipping
|
|
| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
varied
|
|
| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
labyrinthian
|
|
| 错综复杂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
bazaars
|
|
| （东方国家的）市场( bazaar的名词复数 )； 义卖； 义卖市场； （出售花哨商品等的）小商品市场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
chattered
|
|
| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
uncouth
|
|
| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
entrusted
|
|
| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
laggard
|
|
| n.落后者；adj.缓慢的，落后的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
unprecedented
|
|
| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
harangues
|
|
| n.高谈阔论的长篇演讲( harangue的名词复数 )v.高谈阔论( harangue的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
labor
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
scrap
|
|
| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
200
rambled
|
|
| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
201
windings
|
|
| （道路、河流等）蜿蜒的，弯曲的( winding的名词复数 )； 缠绕( wind的现在分词 )； 卷绕； 转动（把手） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
202
tavern
|
|
| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
203
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
204
siestas
|
|
| n.（气候炎热国家的）午睡，午休( siesta的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
205
sipped
|
|
| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
206
proprietor
|
|
| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
207
spun
|
|
| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
208
teller
|
|
| n.银行出纳员；(选举)计票员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
209
taverns
|
|
| n.小旅馆，客栈，酒馆( tavern的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
210
indigenous
|
|
| adj.土产的，土生土长的，本地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
211
grotto
|
|
| n.洞穴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
212
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
213
sundry
|
|
| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
214
stews
|
|
| n.炖煮的菜肴( stew的名词复数 )；烦恼，焦虑v.炖( stew的第三人称单数 )；煨；思考；担忧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
215
revolving
|
|
| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
216
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
217
incurable
|
|
| adj.不能医治的，不能矫正的，无救的；n.不治的病人，无救的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
218
picturesque
|
|
| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
219
ripening
|
|
| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的现在分词 )；熟化；熟成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
220
allotted
|
|
| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
221
jauntily
|
|
| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
222
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
223
postponement
|
|
| n.推迟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
224
exertion
|
|
| n.尽力，努力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
225
imbued
|
|
| v.使（某人/某事）充满或激起（感情等）( imbue的过去式和过去分词 )；使充满；灌输；激发（强烈感情或品质等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
226
consternation
|
|
| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
227
dungeons
|
|
| n.地牢( dungeon的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
228
orthography
|
|
| n.拼字法，拼字式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
229
broached
|
|
| v.谈起( broach的过去式和过去分词 )；打开并开始用；用凿子扩大（或修光）；（在桶上）钻孔取液体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
230
earnings
|
|
| n.工资收人；利润，利益，所得 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
231
caravan
|
|
| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
232
caravans
|
|
| （可供居住的）拖车（通常由机动车拖行）( caravan的名词复数 )； 篷车； （穿过沙漠地带的）旅行队（如商队） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
233
thronged
|
|
| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
234
garbed
|
|
| v.（尤指某类人穿的特定）服装，衣服，制服( garb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
235
garb
|
|
| n.服装，装束 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
236
austere
|
|
| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
237
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
238
chilly
|
|
| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
239
boulder
|
|
| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
240
broaching
|
|
| n.拉削；推削；铰孔；扩孔v.谈起( broach的现在分词 )；打开并开始用；用凿子扩大（或修光）；（在桶上）钻孔取液体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
241
cedar
|
|
| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
242
implements
|
|
| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
243
gulf
|
|
| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
244
jumble
|
|
| vt.使混乱，混杂；n.混乱；杂乱的一堆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
245
unfamiliar
|
|
| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
246
deteriorating
|
|
| 恶化，变坏( deteriorate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
247
assailed
|
|
| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
248
shimmering
|
|
| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
249
squinted
|
|
| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
250
parley
|
|
| n.谈判 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
251
rotation
|
|
| n.旋转；循环，轮流 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
252
hawsers
|
|
| n.（供系船或下锚用的）缆索，锚链( hawser的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
253
reassuring
|
|
| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
254
jingle
|
|
| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
255
specially
|
|
| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
256
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
257
incessant
|
|
| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
258
chattering
|
|
| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
259
smirking
|
|
| v.傻笑( smirk的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
260
babbling
|
|
| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
261
buffoon
|
|
| n.演出时的丑角 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
262
ensemble
|
|
| n.合奏(唱)组；全套服装；整体，总效果 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
263
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
264
rabble
|
|
| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
265
missionary
|
|
| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
266
slippers
|
|
| n. 拖鞋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
267
divan
|
|
| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
268
bestow
|
|
| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
269
overriding
|
|
| a.最主要的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
270
dictates
|
|
| n.命令，规定，要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
271
etiquette
|
|
| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
272
morsel
|
|
| n.一口，一点点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
273
utensils
|
|
| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
274
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
275
rumor
|
|
| n.谣言，谣传，传说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
276
rumored
|
|
| adj.传说的，谣传的v.传闻( rumor的过去式和过去分词 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
277
brittle
|
|
| adj.易碎的；脆弱的；冷淡的；(声音)尖利的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
278
pliable
|
|
| adj.易受影响的；易弯的；柔顺的，易驾驭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
279
enveloped
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
280
salaamed
|
|
| 行额手礼( salaam的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
281
expressive
|
|
| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
282
diplomat
|
|
| n.外交官，外交家；能交际的人，圆滑的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
283
mien
|
|
| n.风采；态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
284
puffing
|
|
| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
285
climax
|
|
| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
286
tirade
|
|
| n.冗长的攻击性演说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
287
magistrate
|
|
| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
288
disclaiming
|
|
| v.否认( disclaim的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
289
swollen
|
|
| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
290
blistered
|
|
| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
291
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
292
opportune
|
|
| adj.合适的，适当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
293
earthenware
|
|
| n.土器，陶器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
294
rugged
|
|
| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
295
raisins
|
|
| n.葡萄干( raisin的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
296
incessantly
|
|
| ad.不停地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
297
bleak
|
|
| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
298
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
299
soothing
|
|
| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
300
ascended
|
|
| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
301
gorges
|
|
| n.山峡，峡谷( gorge的名词复数 )；咽喉v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的第三人称单数 )；作呕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
302
precipice
|
|
| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
303
cedars
|
|
| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
304
clumps
|
|
| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
305
stunted
|
|
| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
306
dwarfs
|
|
| n.侏儒，矮子（dwarf的复数形式）vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的第三人称单数形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
307
cowering
|
|
| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
308
dwelling
|
|
| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
309
dirge
|
|
| n.哀乐，挽歌，庄重悲哀的乐曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
310
pretentious
|
|
| adj.自命不凡的，自负的，炫耀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
311
intervals
|
|
| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
312
plodding
|
|
| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
313
slung
|
|
| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
314
sarcastically
|
|
| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
315
dwellings
|
|
| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
316
tortuous
|
|
| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
317
labored
|
|
| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
318
annoyance
|
|
| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
319
halfway
|
|
| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
320
laborers
|
|
| n.体力劳动者，工人( laborer的名词复数 )；（熟练工人的）辅助工 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
321
defile
|
|
| v.弄污，弄脏；n.(山间)小道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
322
reins
|
|
| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
323
guardian
|
|
| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
324
tinkle
|
|
| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
325
regain
|
|
| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
326
wheedling
|
|
| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
327
apparatus
|
|
| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
328
bribe
|
|
| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
329
animate
|
|
| v.赋于生命，鼓励；adj.有生命的，有生气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
330
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
331
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
332
pitfall
|
|
| n.隐患，易犯的错误；陷阱，圈套 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
333
flicker
|
|
| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
334
nomads
|
|
| n.游牧部落的一员( nomad的名词复数 )；流浪者；游牧生活；流浪生活 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
335
evacuated
|
|
| 撤退者的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
336
arena
|
|
| n.竞技场，运动场所；竞争场所，舞台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
337
rattling
|
|
| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
338
precipitated
|
|
| v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
339
rascals
|
|
| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
340
mutual
|
|
| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
341
eluded
|
|
| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
342
consultation
|
|
| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
343
heralded
|
|
| v.预示( herald的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
344
slumber
|
|
| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
345
lurk
|
|
| n.潜伏，潜行；v.潜藏，潜伏，埋伏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
346
muffled
|
|
| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
347
peals
|
|
| n.（声音大而持续或重复的）洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 )；隆隆声；洪亮的钟声；钟乐v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
348
slippered
|
|
| 穿拖鞋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
349
muzzle
|
|
| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
350
inspection
|
|
| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
351
panes
|
|
| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
352
untie
|
|
| vt.解开，松开；解放 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
353
missionaries
|
|
| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
354
Christians
|
|
| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
355
poked
|
|
| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
356
twigs
|
|
| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
357
sniffing
|
|
| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
358
fangs
|
|
| n.（尤指狗和狼的）长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 )；（蛇的）毒牙；罐座 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
359
skulking
|
|
| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
360
snarls
|
|
| n.（动物的）龇牙低吼( snarl的名词复数 )；愤怒叫嚷（声）；咆哮（声）；疼痛叫声v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的第三人称单数 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
361
apprehension
|
|
| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
362
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
363
willows
|
|
| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
364
profusion
|
|
| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
365
hovered
|
|
| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
366
battalion
|
|
| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
367
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
368
domes
|
|
| n.圆屋顶( dome的名词复数 )；像圆屋顶一样的东西；圆顶体育场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
369
minarets
|
|
| n.（清真寺旁由报告祈祷时刻的人使用的）光塔( minaret的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
370
panorama
|
|
| n.全景，全景画，全景摄影，全景照片[装置] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |