Jamais! Jamais!”
Sesooā drove her boat’s nose on to the bar to the tune1 of the old Frenchwoman’s triumphant2 chant of defiance3 to the invaders4, who had wrecked5 her dwelling6, but would never have it again! Never, never!
The Camp Fire Girl was flinging it now as a merry challenge to the seals, the big, spotted7 harbor-seals, treating them as invaders--where they were more at home than she was--and disputing with them the right of possession of the milky8 sand-bar at low tide.
It was a teeming9 settlement, at low water, that Ipswich Bar--a long, white street fringed by wavy10 greenery of billows, which had risen miraculously11 out of the bay, thronged12 by a motley multitude of gulls13, herons, wee sandpipers, petrels, strutting14 to and fro, exchanging now and again a squawky greeting, hobnobbing with brother or cousin, or coolly ignoring one of another tribe, occasionally parting with a fish to a young one--a dazzling, bewildering Great White Way of birds.
And the flippered, bulky harbor-seals--the marbled seals--in their spotted hair-coats, lay around upon the sands, a whole herd15 of them, like lazy merchants who, tired of displaying their wares16, had reclined, to bask17 in the sun.
Ploughing the waves to this White Way came another settler, which a certain old sea-dog, Captain Andy Davis, friend of the Morning-Glory Group of Camp Fire Girls, called alternately, with briny18 disrespect, “a loose old wagon” or an “old red settler,”--in plain English, a broad, flat-bottomed, ruddy-painted camp-boat, impossible to capsize.
This “settler,” bobbing over the green tide, gave the strange effect, somewhat, of a portly, waddling19, ruddy old duck which had ambitiously adopted a cygnet. For towed in her wake came a silvery something, graceful20 as a young swan--a light birch-bark shell, a fifteen-foot canoe whose bark skin shone like satin--with a delicate decoration of ferns, where the outer layer of bark had been scraped away into a pattern, at each tapering21 end.
The red mother-settler had aboard a cargo22--a precious cargo of girlhood--of which one shifting item done up in a bathing-suit, crowned by a red silk handkerchief wound around a curly head, leaned over the stern of the mother-skiff, in rapt admiration23 of that feather-weight canoe.
“I believe--really believe--that I could have paddled over here to the bar from our beach in her!” burst sanguinely25 from the lips of that flesh-and-blood item, Lilia Kemp, otherwise Ko-ko-ko, Little Owl26. “Even if a green comber had capsized her, I could have righted her again and scrambled27 in. I could do it, fully28 dressed, let alone to say in a bathing-suit.”
“Which means you could undress in the water, right her, and get aboard!” corrected an older girl, of shading, twinkling eyelashes between which hovered30 a firefly glance like a glow-worm playing through an amber31 fringe of grasses. “Well!--well, I shouldn’t mind a premature32 ducking myself,” she ran on, her lithe33 body rhythmically34 swaying to one of the red oars35 which she was wielding36. “Perhaps--who knows--we may get it, too, if the seals regard us as invaders! Ginger37! will you look at them--a whole herd, thirty at least, out of water, sunning themselves on the sands!”
“Oh! we see them, Sara.” It was a general responsive chorus in half a dozen gay young voices. “Goody! I never, never, came so near to a seal--a mustached man-fish--before! We’re going to have the frolic of our lives!” from one in piping solo. “And the birds--birds--birds! Ever see anything like them? Fishing, strutting, squabbling, holding a Peace Conference!”
“No! I never saw anything like them before. Nor you, either! There’s nothing to equal the wild life on the Ipswich Bar, at low tide, nearer than the bird reservation on Three Arch Rocks, off the Oregon Coast; that’s what I heard a great naturalist38 say!... And, oh! see--see! there are some of my cousins, the great herons, just gobbling up everything in sight,” trilled Olive Deering--Blue Heron--in a shrill39 treble of excitement which, winging right out of her, fluttered on to the bar, to greet those feathered fisher-folk, her cousins.
“Of course, the Arch Rocks, being a reservation, go a long way beyond anything we could see here, for the teeming multitudes of their bird-life--the grandeur40 of their nested arches,” she added softly, her dark eyes alight, her breast rising and falling, light as a cork41, upon a pure, primitive42 flame of being, typified by the red tongue of flame of the Torch Bearer’s emblem44, with crossed logs and pearly smoke, embroidered45 upon the bosom46 of her glossy47 bathing-suit.
It was one of those outdoor moments when, as she had told Lieutenant48 Davenport, there seemed to be but an illumined fag-end of her real self left in the five feet nine of red-crowned girlish form perched airily, now, upon the side of the red-skinned settler.
The rest, the main part, had become one with the joyful49 feather-folk, the spotted mammals sunning themselves, with the blue of the sky above, the dazzling flower of foam50 on the bonnet51 of the green old whistling tide, off on a holiday from the shore--and with a Father Presence in all, scarce veiled, so radiantly apprehended52 at the moment that faith was almost sight.
She came to herself with a backward glance at a twilight53 balcony, at a young soldier who had, in feeling, come nearer to God since he volunteered--came to her transfigured self in time to hear that officer’s little flame of a sister gaily54 protesting: “Bah! Three Arch Rocks! Who craves55 for Oregon? This is good enough for us. Now--now--now comes the shock, as the soldiers say; now, for finding out how near those seals will let us get to them, before they take to the water! Hitherto they’ve had the bar all to themselves, except for the birds. But:
“‘Ils ne l’aurout plus,
Jamais! Jamais!’
“We’re out for possession, too, this summer!... Oh, mercy! Here they come, stampeding--flopping. Oh, sit tight, girls; if they strike the boat, they may----”
“They can’t capsize us!” burst explosively from sister lips. “The old settler----”
She was a settler, a sturdy one, that camp skiff. She rocked and wallowed, but settled down, as in a nest, in the green hubbub56 of tide and foam stirred up by the wildly startled plunging-off of thirty sportive young seals, which, striking the water with the heavy splashes of men bathers, swam deliriously57 around in all directions, whipping the eddies58 with their active flippers, amid a low tornado59 of broken exclamations60 from the girls.
“Oh, mercy! Look! Aren’t their dark heads just like those of a lot of boys, swimming round? And did you--did you see them when they made a dash for the water?”
“They were so quick that you couldn’t see them!”
“Yes, I did! They--they floundered off the bar with the funniest kangaroo roll, half-upright, their little fore-flippers in the air--like puppies’ paws--swinging the hind61 parts of their bodies first to one side, then--then to the other--the queerest teeter! Oh! I’ll never forget it!... Never!”
Olive’s own voice “teetered” upon the protests that softly lashed62 the sunshine around the boat, breaking in upon the general medley63 of her companions’ excitement.
As she perched upon the ruddy rim43 of the old red settler, her arm was about the shoulders of the adopted Camp Fire Sister, little Flamina, whose Green Leaf was a perfect quiver leaf now, the night-black pupils of her eyes--big dilated--shining through their jetty lashes29, like radium in the dark.
“Ah, Madonna! How I am excita’! Vitello marina! De bigga seal! I no see such bigga sealla on shore of Napoli--me!” she cried, her childish mind traveling back by a?rial route--the sisterly arm about her made it a rainbowed route--from the lonely wildness of the Ipswich Sand-bar to the sunny beauty of her native shores on the blue bay of Naples as she had occasionally beheld64 them.
“Ha! Justa looka!” panted Flamina again, liquidly musical as a little spring brook65, hugging her excitement passionately66, within locked arms, to the breast of her small pea-green sweater. “De bigges’ seal ees no mova--heem stay on sand--rolla ova! Ah! Brava! Brava!”
“Brava, indeed! Did you ever see such bravado67?” It was Sesooā’s low, laughing outburst. “Three of them--four--aren’t stirring--not making a break for the water at all! Ginger! we must be within thirty yards of them now. The Big Four lying up there, high an’ dry, on the ridge68 of the sloping bar! And--and one of them a monster! Perfect ‘whale,’ as the boys would say! Oh-h! will you look at his fangs--long yellow fangs--and his mustache twinkling with brine!
“And the round, brown spots all over him! See him roll over on his side and grin, as if he dared--dared us to come nearer! Mercy! Hasn’t he a half-human kind of face! I’m afraid; he looks like a man-fish, a--monster!”
Little Owl--Lilla--was crouching69, hands clasped, in the red stern of the old settler, as the words tumbled forth70 through her parted lips. Behind her, rocking upon the eddies, was the fern-decked, birch canoe.
“Sara! Sara Davenport! you’re too daring! He--they--might attack us. Let’s row off and land at a little distance, upon another part of the bar! Upon my word! he does look ugly--wicked. I--I’m ‘creepy’ all over--positively. He seems bent71 on holding the fort--the sand-bar!” Arline’s voice shook upon a moist rainbow of excitement.
“Yes, they’ve had it all to themselves too long, but:
“‘Ils ne l’aurout plus...!’”
Was it that a New England seal disliked to hear himself challenged in the defiant72 chant which an old Frenchwoman had flung after retreating Germans--to have his reign73 upon the milk-white bar--the heaven of the low-water sands--disputed? Or was it that, after all, his grinning pep was only surface spice--that whatever savage74 courage still remained in him for battles with his own tribe, had been reduced by persecution75 to arrant76 cowardice77 in man’s direction, was not proof against the slow, complacent78 advance, inch by inch, onto the bar, of an old red, wooden settler, vibrant79 from stem to stern with the quivers and gasps80 of a dozen wildly excited girls?
Whatever the reason--perhaps the sands on which his blubbery brain had rested alone knew--whatever the reason, swiftly, suddenly, he threw the switch, as it were, the lightning-switch, when the nosing old camp-boat was only twenty yards from him, signaling to the three other big seals, the ladies of his family, his marbled wives.
Lightning-like, they responded, making a kangaroo dash for the water--led by their grinning lord--so quick that in the sunlight their briny, oily hair-coats seemed phosphorescent.
But it was a day when strange, covert81 methods of warfare82 were in vogue83.
Perhaps, even lying out at low tide upon the dry sands of the Ipswich Bar, the big, brooding old dog-seal had seen strange fish-like structures--gray and black--rising afar off from ocean’s depths, and from them had taken a hint.
At all events, no U-boat, yet, ever equalled the surprising swiftness with which he played submarine--took it upon himself to play submarine.
Whether it was blind fear or baffled fury, creaming to blunder, in that old blubber-head of his, he dove right under the boat, instead of dodging84 by it!
Giving way before the red settler, he bumped against her flat bottom, and hoisted85 her right out of the water--her delicate cygnet chick, the birch canoe, too!
An easy matter for him, for he weighed a full three hundred pounds or so, and made nothing of the leviathan feat24 of hoisting86 a cargo of girls tumultuously out of one element into another--the spray-shot, spray-curdled87 air!
The old wooden settler clucked and rocked dizzily, fiery88 red in the face and mad as an old wet hen. But she could not hold on to her chicks--or at least she could hold to but very few of them!
Out of her they shot on all sides! The green tide around her suddenly bloomed with flower-like girlish heads done up in red silk handkerchiefs.
The air was streaked89 with a curdled foam of sputtering90 cries: “The seal! That big seal! Where--is--he? Dove r-right un-der--us! Played submarine, he did!... Tchu! tchu! tchu! C’est la Guerre! Guerre, with a vengeance--yes!... Oh! Where do we go from here, girls--where do we go-o from here?”
“You deserve to go to ‘Davy Jones’ from here, for letting a big seal bounce you out! Great Neptune91! haven’t you a grain more sense than that, after all the forty-one tricks I’ve taught you? Eh-h?”
It was a loud voice, whooping92 like a klaxon, that came suddenly ringing over the swirling93 tide, seconded by a sound of oars. “D’you ask where the seal is? Well! there he goes, swimming off--beating it to win’ard, vowing94 by his ancestors, back to the tadpoles95, that he’ll never have anything to do with girls again--after landing you all in the surf off the old bar. An’ each an’ every one o’ you as wet as a sea-mouse--a feathered sea-mouse! Dear, dear! ’Bout time you had a convoy96, I reckon!”
“‘Convoy’! Captain Andy! Captain Andy Davis! Well! it’s no wonder a big seal b-bounced us all out--got the better of us; you’ve been neglecting us s-shamefully.” It was Blue Heron’s voice babbling97 through brine as Olive’s geranium-like head rose from the greenery of a water-hill.
“Panky doodle! Have I, indeed? Want me to tow your old red settler of a boat on to the sands? She’s drifting off. The rest of you can swim, I reckon. Good! In the water, anyhow, you behave as well as you look--an’ that’s saying a lot!”
“Hurrah! Is it now? So--so you’re thinking better of sending us to--Davy Jones--right off, eh?” Sesooā’s little flame of laughter shot back over her shoulder, as, striking out boldly, she swam for the dry sands of the long bar--the dazzling Great White Way of birds--her companions following, Olive towing the foreign-born little sister, who was hampered98 by having drawn99 the rough pea-green sweater, for warmth, over her bathing-suit.
A dozen laughing nymphs they were, landing in madcap mood at the heart of the frolic of the wild life on the bar.
Behind them, in charge of their ruddy old skiff and the tossed canoe, came their friend and body-guard of former camping seasons, Captain Andrew Davis, master mariner100 of Gloucester, whose massive figure was still a tower of strength, and the light of his eye undimmed, at seventy-two!
点击收听单词发音
1 tune | |
n.调子;和谐,协调;v.调音,调节,调整 | |
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2 triumphant | |
adj.胜利的,成功的;狂欢的,喜悦的 | |
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3 defiance | |
n.挑战,挑衅,蔑视,违抗 | |
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4 invaders | |
入侵者,侵略者,侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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5 wrecked | |
adj.失事的,遇难的 | |
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6 dwelling | |
n.住宅,住所,寓所 | |
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7 spotted | |
adj.有斑点的,斑纹的,弄污了的 | |
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8 milky | |
adj.牛奶的,多奶的;乳白色的 | |
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9 teeming | |
adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 );到处都是;(指水、雨等)暴降;倾注 | |
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10 wavy | |
adj.有波浪的,多浪的,波浪状的,波动的,不稳定的 | |
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11 miraculously | |
ad.奇迹般地 | |
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12 thronged | |
v.成群,挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13 gulls | |
n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
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14 strutting | |
加固,支撑物 | |
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15 herd | |
n.兽群,牧群;vt.使集中,把…赶在一起 | |
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16 wares | |
n. 货物, 商品 | |
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17 bask | |
vt.取暖,晒太阳,沐浴于 | |
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18 briny | |
adj.盐水的;很咸的;n.海洋 | |
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19 waddling | |
v.(像鸭子一样)摇摇摆摆地走( waddle的现在分词 ) | |
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20 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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21 tapering | |
adj.尖端细的 | |
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22 cargo | |
n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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23 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
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24 feat | |
n.功绩;武艺,技艺;adj.灵巧的,漂亮的,合适的 | |
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25 sanguinely | |
乐观的,充满希望的; 面色红润的; 血红色的 | |
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26 owl | |
n.猫头鹰,枭 | |
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27 scrambled | |
v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 );攀登;争夺;(军事飞机)紧急起飞 | |
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28 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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29 lashes | |
n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 );鞭子;突然猛烈的一击;急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
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30 hovered | |
鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 ); 靠近(某事物); (人)徘徊; 犹豫 | |
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31 amber | |
n.琥珀;琥珀色;adj.琥珀制的 | |
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32 premature | |
adj.比预期时间早的;不成熟的,仓促的 | |
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33 lithe | |
adj.(指人、身体)柔软的,易弯的 | |
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34 rhythmically | |
adv.有节奏地 | |
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35 oars | |
n.桨,橹( oar的名词复数 );划手v.划(行)( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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36 wielding | |
手持着使用(武器、工具等)( wield的现在分词 ); 具有; 运用(权力); 施加(影响) | |
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37 ginger | |
n.姜,精力,淡赤黄色;adj.淡赤黄色的;vt.使活泼,使有生气 | |
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38 naturalist | |
n.博物学家(尤指直接观察动植物者) | |
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39 shrill | |
adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
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40 grandeur | |
n.伟大,崇高,宏伟,庄严,豪华 | |
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41 cork | |
n.软木,软木塞 | |
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42 primitive | |
adj.原始的;简单的;n.原(始)人,原始事物 | |
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43 rim | |
n.(圆物的)边,轮缘;边界 | |
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44 emblem | |
n.象征,标志;徽章 | |
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45 embroidered | |
adj.绣花的 | |
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46 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
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47 glossy | |
adj.平滑的;有光泽的 | |
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48 lieutenant | |
n.陆军中尉,海军上尉;代理官员,副职官员 | |
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49 joyful | |
adj.欢乐的,令人欢欣的 | |
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50 foam | |
v./n.泡沫,起泡沫 | |
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51 bonnet | |
n.无边女帽;童帽 | |
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52 apprehended | |
逮捕,拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 ); 理解 | |
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53 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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54 gaily | |
adv.欢乐地,高兴地 | |
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55 craves | |
渴望,热望( crave的第三人称单数 ); 恳求,请求 | |
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56 hubbub | |
n.嘈杂;骚乱 | |
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57 deliriously | |
adv.谵妄(性);发狂;极度兴奋/亢奋;说胡话 | |
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58 eddies | |
(水、烟等的)漩涡,涡流( eddy的名词复数 ) | |
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59 tornado | |
n.飓风,龙卷风 | |
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60 exclamations | |
n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 );感叹;感叹语;感叹词 | |
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61 hind | |
adj.后面的,后部的 | |
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62 lashed | |
adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
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63 medley | |
n.混合 | |
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64 beheld | |
v.看,注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟 | |
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65 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
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66 passionately | |
ad.热烈地,激烈地 | |
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67 bravado | |
n.虚张声势,故作勇敢,逞能 | |
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68 ridge | |
n.山脊;鼻梁;分水岭 | |
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69 crouching | |
v.屈膝,蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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70 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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71 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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72 defiant | |
adj.无礼的,挑战的 | |
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73 reign | |
n.统治时期,统治,支配,盛行;v.占优势 | |
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74 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
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75 persecution | |
n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
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76 arrant | |
adj.极端的;最大的 | |
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77 cowardice | |
n.胆小,怯懦 | |
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78 complacent | |
adj.自满的;自鸣得意的 | |
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79 vibrant | |
adj.震颤的,响亮的,充满活力的,精力充沛的,(色彩)鲜明的 | |
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80 gasps | |
v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
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81 covert | |
adj.隐藏的;暗地里的 | |
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82 warfare | |
n.战争(状态);斗争;冲突 | |
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83 Vogue | |
n.时髦,时尚;adj.流行的 | |
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84 dodging | |
n.避开,闪过,音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 );回避 | |
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85 hoisted | |
把…吊起,升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86 hoisting | |
起重,提升 | |
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87 curdled | |
v.(使)凝结( curdle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
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89 streaked | |
adj.有条斑纹的,不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 );使布满条纹 | |
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90 sputtering | |
n.反应溅射法;飞溅;阴极真空喷镀;喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 );发劈啪声;喷出;飞溅出 | |
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91 Neptune | |
n.海王星 | |
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92 whooping | |
发嗬嗬声的,发咳声的 | |
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93 swirling | |
v.旋转,打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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94 vowing | |
起誓,发誓(vow的现在分词形式) | |
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95 tadpoles | |
n.蝌蚪( tadpole的名词复数 ) | |
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96 convoy | |
vt.护送,护卫,护航;n.护送;护送队 | |
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97 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 | |
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98 hampered | |
妨碍,束缚,限制( hamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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100 mariner | |
n.水手号不载人航天探测器,海员,航海者 | |
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