"Just talk, Stig...." Spring Winds howl outside the Tent. Mrs. Eggslap is in an Emerald-green Sacque with Watteau pleats, all disarrang'd at the moment, as is her Hair. A stout1 Candle of Swedish Wax burns in a Candle?stick of Military design.
"To Thorfinn Karlsefni's settlement at Hop," relates Stig, who in lieu of smoking a Stogie, has begun to inspect his Ax-blade for flaws per?ceptible to him alone,— "at the mouth of one of the Rivers of Vineland, the Skraellings come, to trade pelts2 for milk. What they really want are weapons, but Karlsefni has forbidden anyone to sell them. Upon the second visit, Karlsefni's wife Gudrid is inside the House, tending Snorri the baby, when despite the new Palisado and the Sentries5, a strange, small Woman comes in, announc'd only by her Shadow, fair-hair'd, pale, with the most enormous eyes Gudrid has ever seen, and asks, 'What is your Name?'
'' 'My name is Gudrid,' replies Gudrid. 'What is your name?' ' 'My name is Gudrid,' she whispers, staring out of those Eyes. And all at once there is a violent crash, and the woman vanishes,— at the same Instant, outside, one of the Northmen, struggling with one of the Skraellings, who has tried to seize his weapon, kills him. With terrible cries, the other Skraellings run away,— the Northmen decide not to wait their return, but to go out to them, upon the Cape7. The Sea roars against the Land, the Sea-Wind bears away the cries of the Wounded, Blood leaps, Men fall, most of those slain9 are Skrasllings, their Bodies splay'd and vaporous in the Cold. None but Gudrid ever saw the woman whose visit announc'd this first Act of American murder, and the collapse10 of Vineland the Good,— in another year Karlsefni's outpost would be gone, as if what they had done out upon the Headland, under the torn Banners of the Clouds, were too terrible, and any question of who had prevail'd come to matter ever less, as Days went on, whilst the residue11 of Dishonor before the Gods and Heroes would never be scour'd away. Thereafter they were men and women in Despair, many of whom, bound for Home, miscalculated the Route and landed in Ireland, where they were cap-tur'd and enslav'd."
"Oh, Stig."
"These are Tales of the Westward12 Escapes, of Helgi and Finnbogi, and Thorstein the Swarthy, and Biarni Heriulfsson. Rogues14 and Projectors15 and Fugitives16, they went without pretext17, no Christ, no Grail, no expec?tation beyond each Day's Turnings, to be haunted by Ghosts more mate?rial, less merciful, than any they'd left at their backs.
"They found here, again, as in Greenland and Iceland, Firths and Fjords,— something Immense had harrow'd and then flooded all these Coasts.— "
"So that's why the Swedes chose to sail between the Capes13 of Delaware,— they thought it was another Fjord! You fellows do like a nice Fjord, it seems. Instead, they found Pennsylvania!"
"Some Surprize?"
"Some Surprize.— Stig?"
"Yah, Pa-tience?"
"Do we really need the Ax right here, like this?"
This Season, hanging just over the Horizon, spreading lightless Mantle18 and pale fingers across the sky, the great Ghost of the woods has been whis?pering to them,— tho' Reason suggests the Wind,— "No...no more...no further." Such are the Words the Surveyors have been able to bring to their waking Bank-side, from this great fluvial Whisper.
"Reminds me of a Lass from Escombe...," remarks Dixon. Jointly19 and severally, they have continu'd to find regions of Panick fear all along the Line,— Dixon, in the great Cave whose Gothicity sends his partner into
such Raptures21, but wondering, in some Fretfulness, what might be living in it large enough, to need so much space,— whereas 'tis Mason who stands sweating and paralyz'd before the great Death-shade of the Forest between Savage22 Mountain and Little Yochio Geni, "...a wild waste," he will write, "composed of laurel swamps, dark vales of Pine through which I believe the Sun's rays never penetrated," which evokes23 from Dixon, at his lengthiest24, "Great uncommon25 lot of Trees about...?" Together, they are apt to be come upon at any stretch of the Chain, no telling when, by the next unwelcome Visitor that waits them. Nor,— tho' Night-fall is tra?ditional,— will any Hour be exempt26. This is none of the lesser27 Agents, the White Women or Black Dogs, but the Presence itself, unbounded, whose Visitations increase in number as the Party, for the last time, moves West.
One Day, having fail'd to fall asleep, and, as they often did, continue to sleep, through the nightly death of the Sun,— up instead, faces vermil-ion'd, amid the clank and bustle28 of preparations for the evening Mess,— Mason and Dixon hear the Voice, stirring the tops of Trees in a black swift Smear29 down the Mountainside and into the Shade, more to plead than to pronounce,— "You are gone too far, from the Post Mark'd West."
It is there. Neither Surveyor may take any comfort in Suspicions of joint20 Insanity30. "Thankee," Mason mutters back to it, "as if we didn't already know."
"Myself...? Ah'd love to see the canny31 old Post again," adds Dixon, helpfully. They know by now where they are, not only in Miles, Chains, and Feet, but respecting as well the Dragon of the Land, according to which anyplace beyond the Summit of the Alleghenies, wherever the water flows West, into the Continental32 Unknown, lies too far from the Countryside where, quietly, unthreaten'd, among the tall gray stalks of the girdl'd trees, beneath Roofs tarr'd against the Rain, the Wives knead and flour, and the Dough's Rising is a Miniature of the great taken Breath of the Day,... and where voices in the Wind are assum'd into the singing of the Congregations, the Waggon's rumbling33 upon the roads of pack'd and beaten earth, the lowing, the barking, the solitary34 rifle-shot, close to supper-time, from over in the next Valley. Here the Surveyors,— as many of the Party,— have come away, as if backward in Time, beyond the Range of the furthest spent Ball, of the last friendly Pennsylvania
Rifle. The Implication of the ghostly Speech is clear to them both.— They will soon be proceeding35, if indeed they are not already, with all Guarantees of Safety suspended,— as if Whatever spar'd them years ago, at Sea, were now presenting its Bill. Here, the next Interdiction37, when it comes, will be not with the clamorous38 stench of Sea-Battle, but quieter than wind, final as Stone.
Abdominal39 Fear and Thoracick Indignation at the same moment visit both Surveyors. To have come this far...and yet, by the Scale it has assum'd, the Denial is so clearly meant to be heeded—
Be they heedful or not, 1767 will be their last year upon the Line. Con3?ditions hitherto shapeless are swiftly reduc'd to Certainty. Having waited upon Sir William Johnson to negotiate with deputies from the Six Nations, assembl'd at German Flat, upon Mohawk, as to the continuation of the Line beyond the Allegheny Crest40, the Surveyors loiter week upon week in Philadelphia, Drinking at Clubs, dancing with City Belles41 at Shore-parties, along the sand Beaches, playing two-handed Whist, their judgment42 in ev'rything from Fish to Pipe-Fellows grown perilously43 unre?liable, as the Air oppressively damp,— howbeit, they get a late start this Year, not reaching the Allegheny Front until July, a full year since they left off their Progress West. Sir William Johnson is to be paid ￡500 for his Trouble.
Their last Spring out, passing by way of Octarara, they find the Redzingers and their neighbors all at a barn-raising nearby. A geomet-rick Maze44 of Beams, a-bang with men in black Hats. Luise waves to Peter up straddling a lower Girt, smiling over at one of the Yoder Boy's Hardware-Joaks. Mason and Dixon drop ceremonial Plumb-lines here and there, and Capt. Zhang pronounces the location acceptably within the Parameters45 of his Luo-Pan. He has re-join'd the Party after a myste?rious Absence over the Winter, during which the Cobra-Brain Pearl he'd shown them has deflected46 at last the will of the Jesuit. Thro' its influence, there had appear'd in P. Zarpazo's path an irresistible47 offer to travel to Florida and be one of the founders48 of a sort of Jesuit Pleasure-Garden, of Dimensions unlimited49 by neighboring Parcels, tho' the Topick of Alliga?tors has so far adroitly50 remain'd unaddress'd—
There are Parsnip Fritters, breaded fried Sausages, Rhubarb Dumplings, Souse and Horse-radish, Ham-and-Apple Schnitz und
Knepp, Hickory-Nut Cake and Shoofly Pies. Armand, bravely spruc'd up, even drops by,— tho' his heart, he will assure anyone who asks, is desolated,— with a strangely festive51 Pudding he has whisk'd together, loaded with Currants, candied Violets, dried apricots, peaches, and cherries chopp'd fine with almonds and rejuvenated52 in Raspberry Brandy. He is surrounded immediately by various small Children.
Luise leads her Husband over, by the hand with the sacred Finger, and the men meet formally at last. Armand finds himself looking upward at this very large German, who continues to grip the equally oversiz'd Hammer with which he has been whacking53 at Beams and Plates all day,— meanwhile regarding Armand as a Boy might a Bug54. Or perhaps—
"How is the Duck?" Peter blurts56. "She told me about it. Luise."
Armand almost blurts back, "The Duck is excellent," but wagering58 it is a religious question, replies, "I see the Duck seldom of late. Perhaps, by now, she has taken in her charge so many other Souls as troubl'd as my own, that there remains59 less time for me,— perhaps, as she has con-tinu'd upon her own way, I have even pass'd altogether from her Care."
"But, Time, surely, by now, no longer matters to her?" Peter now curi?ous, "- - no longer passes the same way, I mean."
The Frenchman shrugs60. "Yet we few, fortunate Objects of her Visits, remain ever tight in Time's Embrace," sighing, as if for the Duck alone....
"She, then,.. .enters and leaves the Stream of Time as she likes?" Luise, tossing her eyes vigorously skyward, slides away to attend to an Oven-Load of loaves and biscuits. The lads, whose flow of saliva61 has begun to escape the best efforts of their lower lips to contain it, proceed to eat their way from one end of a long trestle table to the other, thro' Hams and Fowl62, Custards and Tarts63, fried Noodles and Opossum Alamodes, all the while deep in discourse64 upon the deepest Topicks there are.
The instruments arrive on the seventh of July at Cumberland, throng'd and a-blare with skin-wearers and cloth-wearers ever mingling65, Indian and White, French and Spanish. Ladies pack Pistols and Dirks, whilst
coarser Sisters prove to be saintlier than expected. Poison'd by strong
Drink, Pioneers go bouncing Cheese-and-Skittle-wise from one Pedes?trian to another, Racoon-Tails askew66, daring Hooves and Wheel-Rims, and the impatience68 of a Street-ful of Business-Folk who must mind their Watch-Time, often to the Minute, all day long. Riflemen sit out on the Porches of Taverns69 and jingle70 their Vent-Picks in time to the musick of African Slaves, who play upon Banjos and Drums here, far into the Night. The Place smells of Heart-wood, and Animals, and Smoke. Great Waggons71 with white Canopies72, styl'd "Conestogas," form up at the west?ern edge of town, an uncommon Stir, passionate73 shouting, Herds74 filling the Street, as one by one each Machine is brought 'round, and its Team of Horses hitch'd on,— proceeding then to the end of a waiting line, where all stand, be it snow or summer, patient as cows at milking time.
"Thing about out here," cackles Thomas Cresap, when they go to pay him a visit, "is it's perfect. It's 'at damn U-topia's what it is, and nobody'll own to it. No King, no Governor, nought76 but the Sheriff, whose Delight is to leave you alone, for as long as you do not actively77 seek his attention, which he calls 'fuckin' with him.' As long as you don't 'fuck' with him, he don't 'fuck' with you! Somethin', hah? About as intrusive78 as Authority ought to git, in m' own humble79 Opinion, o' course. And there's to be sure the usual rotten apple among Sheriffs, that, 'scuse me Gents, Got-damn'd Lancaster Sheriff... Old Smith?... We had pitch'd musket80 battles with him and his Army of Pennite Refuse. 'Course back there you probably only heard their side of it."
"Mr. Sam Smith entertain'd us with an account, at Pechway, two, per?haps55 three years ago."
"We sure entertain'd him, that night."
"Said it was fifty-five to fourteen... ?"
"Close enough."
"Call'd you the Beast of Baltimore."
"That I was and the Maryland Monster as well, and I'm even more dangerous today than I was then, for there's little I fear in this World, and nothing I won't undertake, long as these damn'd Knees don't betray me, that is. Ask any of these Louts how I do with a Pistol. Eh?" He produces a Highwayman's model, with a short, rounded-off grip and a twelve-inch octagonal Barrel. "All flash, you say, meant but to strike Fear,—
"I didn't say that," says Mason. "Nor I...?" adds Dixon.
"Here, you,— Michael's one,— Get out there about to the first Fence and throw this,— here, this Jug81 up in the air for the old Bible Patriarch, 'at's a good boy."
"But it's full of— "
"Whatever your name is,— now we don't want to bore our guests, do we, with the details of the Tax Laws and how they differ as between the two Provinces, so just git your wrong-side-the-creek arse out to that Fence— " The boy is running, already halfway82 there. Cresap gazes after him. "See that Attitude? Don't know where he gets it. Just as happy to have a Sheriff about, if you want the truth. I thought I was an untamable kid, but that young Zack, there,—
"Ready, Grampa!"
Patch, Ball, Grease, Rod, Powder fine and coarse, all in a strange blur57, the fastest loading job anyone there, including the Revd, who's seen a number of them, can recollect83. "Heads up!" hollers Cresap. The Jug sails slowly end-over-end in an Arc skyward, as Cresap, arm straight, aims, tracks and fires, whereupon, being struck, the Jug explodes in a great Ball of Flame whose Wave of Heat fans their astonish'd Faces.
"Sam'l Smith tell you about that one? That Army o' his started off with eighty-five men, but thirty ran away after the first couple of these Jugs84 exploded, so it was more of an even fight. I took a few precious Breaths to curse myself for ever settling so close to the limits of Maryland, yet, as I foolishly trusted, south of the Forty-Degree Parallel,— and wagering that the real Susquehanna would prove a more potent85 Boundary than any invisible Line drawn86 by Astronomers87 or Surveyors,— oh, that's right you're one of each in't you, so sorry,— and that surely no Sheriff of Lan?caster would mount the naval88 Expedition he did. Gawwwd, Boats? There was sailboats and there was rafts, there was Battoes oar'd by match'd twenty-six-man African slave crews, there was even Sailing Ships out there upon broad Susquehanna that night in the dark of the Moon, thirty years ago now, but I'm no closer to forgetting it. For most of the settlers about, in the places they'd come from, troops of Horsemen upon the Roads late at night were far from rare,— but being invaded out of that midnight River, by a small Brigade,— betray'd by me own Bound'ry Line, as ye'd say, taken by total Surprize,— I suppose once in ev'ry lifetime it's necessary. They descended89 upon my Land with all the
pitilessness of an Army in full Sunlight, and proceeded to build a camp and dig in to obsess90 us. And 'twas my young Daniel who was Hero of the Battle."
The younger Cresap, now forty, who's been eating enthusiastically though in Silence, pauses and shrugs. "Active sort of Lad," his father says. "Ran about making one mistake after another. They catch him, set him out of their way,— when they're not looking he finds their Powder, wraps what he can in his Handkerchief, throws it in the Fire."
Daniel grimaces91, shaking his head. "Dove for cover, waited,— Nothing. The Handkerchief got a little charr'd. Then they were really angry,— what a sight they made, trying to retrieve92 that powder out of the Fire. Ev'rybody waiting for some great Blast. I didn't know if I should be laughing, or pleading for my Life. 'Twas their Call, as it is ever."
"Our house burn'd down, one of us murder'd with his hands in the air,— " Father and Son are exchanging Looks, "the rest dispers'd into the Woods,— they took me back across Susquehanna to stand trial in that dismal,— let me put it this way. If America was a Person,— and it sat down,— Lancaster Town would be plunged93, into a Darkness unbreathable.
"On the way over the River, I was able to put one of my bold Captors in the water, where they all set upon him with Oars8 and Rifle-stocks, thinking 'twas me, some of them in their eagerness losing their balance and falling in as well. I couldn't get the Ropes off, and was trying to stay out of the River, in this water-borne Panick of Oxen. To be fair, 'twas vile94 Sam Smith sav'd my life, for most of them would as soon have tipp'd me in and let me sink. 'Twas only when we got to Columbia, across the River, that they plac'd me in chains, though I did knock the Blacksmith cold with 'em,— the Shame,— a Brother-immigrant, who more than any should have known better than to manacle another such, at the bidding of some jump'd-up Pea-wit working for the Penns. Sirs, that is my side of it. How does it match up with that of Smith, who must've known that sooner or later you'd see me?"
"He seem'd not quite as hale as you," Dixon recalls.
"Can I forgive him his Life? I've done with all my crying about that. And howbeit, I was releas'd at last,— Justice not so much prevailing95, as Injustice96, having early exhausted97 itself, retiring,— and leaving it to
Providence as to Sam'l Smith's capacity for further Harm outside of Lan?caster County, my Family and I removed Westward, settling in Antietam, at that time upon the Frontier,— where, by trading honestly enough in skins and furs, we soon found ourselves at the Verge98 of a Fortune. Alas99, our shipload of Pelts, upon which we had borrow'd heavily, approaching the Channel, was surpriz'd by one of Monseer's Privateers and like that, ta'en. Our creditors100 all show'd up in a single stern-faced crowd, so many that some were oblig'd to walk and stand in animal shit. I wav'd this very High-Toby Special about, appeal'd to their Shame, but we were all too perilously extended,— the seat by Potowmack, which at last I had begun to feel was mine, was thereupon seiz'd as pitilessly as our Fortune at Sea, and we must again reassemble, and take up our Lives and move West, eventually settling here, where Potowmack forks, and ways converge101, from all over the Compass, and the Fort lies less than a day away. Per?haps I am not meant to govern a great Manor102, like the scalp-stealing Fiend Shelby. Perhaps I am ready for this sort of Village life. Third-time-Lucky sort of thing.''
"Nor must we ever be moving again." It is Megan, another of Michael's batch103. Hair all a-fire, spirited, no respect at all for Traditional Authority. She knows how to read, and she is reading him Tox's Pennsylvaniad.
' 'Twas after Braddock fell, that times out here got very difficult indeed. Nemacolin and I put that road in, years earlier. Chopp'd damn near ev'ry tree. We were th' original Mason and Dixon. We cut our Visto too narrow for poor Braddock, but who was expecting an Army? We went by Compass. I felt that cold magick in the Needle, Sirs. Something very powerful, from far beyond this Forest, 'Whose Bark had never felt the Bit's Assault,' as Tox puts it so well. As for Nemacolin, I believe that he liv'd in a World where Magick is in daily operation, and the magnetick Compass surely is small Turnips104."
"What will the Mohawks that are to join us think of our Instruments, then?" Dixon wonders.
"They'll be curious. Good idea to satisfy them on all questions. Wagering that they may not ask the fatal one,— 'Why are you doing this?' If that happens, your only hope is not to react. 'Tis the first step into the Quagmire105. If you be fortunate enough to emerge, 'twill not be with your previous Optimism intact.”
"Why am I doing this?" Mason inquires aloud of no one in particular, "— Damme, that is an intriguing106 Question. I mean, I suppose I could say it's for the Money, or to Advance our Knowledge of,—
"Eeh,— regard thaself, thou're reacting," says Dixon. "Just what Friend Cresap here said not to do,— thou're doing it...?"
"Whine107 not, as the Stoick ever says? You might yourself advert108 to it profitably,—
"What Crime am I charg'd with now, ever for Thoo, how convenient?"
"Wait, wait, you're saying I don't take blame when I should, that I'm ever pushing it off onto you?"
"Wasn't I that said it," Dixon's Eyebrows109 headed skyward, nostrils110 a-flare with some last twinkling of Geniality111.
"I take the blame when it's my fault," cries Mason, "but it's never my Fault,— and that's not my Fault, either! Or to put it another way,—
"Aye, tell the Pit-Pony too, why don't tha?"
"Children, children," admonishes112 the Patriarch, "let us be civil, here. Am I not a Justice of the Peace, after all? Now,— which is the Hus?band?"
This is greeted by rude Mirth, including, presently, Dixon's, though not even a chuckle113 from Mason, who can only, at best, stop glowering114. This is taken as high Hilarity115, and the "Corn" continues to pass 'round, which Mason is oblig'd to drink,— the unglaz'd Rim67 unwipably wet from the loose-lipp'd Embraces of Mouths that may recently have been any?where, not excluding,— from the look of the Company,— live elements of the Animal Kingdom.
Dixon, being a Grain person, is having a generally cheerier Drinking Life than Mason, as, the further West they go, the more distill'd Grains, and the fewer Wines, are to be found,— until at last even to mention Wine aloud is to be taken for a French Spy. At Cumberland, as yet, Mason hasn't dar'd ask,— tho' if it's to be found anywhere, 'twill be at the Market, ev'ry day, Sundays as well, lying spread up to the gray stone Revetments, beneath the black guns, the shadows of the Bastions, the lookouts116 curiously117 a-stare, Indians from the far interior with not only furs to trade, but medicinal herbs too, and small gold artifacts,— drinking-cups, bangles, charms, from fabl'd Lands to South and West. Upland Vir?ginians come with shoes by the waggonload, Philadelphia Mantua-makers
with stitch-by-stitch Copies of the Modes of London and Paris, Book?sellers from the brick ravines of Frederick, with the latest confessions118 from Covent-Garden, Piemen and Milkmaids and Women of the Night, life stories spread upon blankets, chuck-farthing games in the Ditch, ev'rywhere sounds of metal, a-clang in the Forges, squeaking119 rhythmi?cally in the mud street,— bells in the church, iron nails pour'd in jin?gling heaps, Specie in and out of Purses. The skies are Biblically lit, bright yellow and slate-blue and purple, and the munitions120 waggons, whose horses in a former life were humans who traffick'd in Land, pass, going and coming, laden121 and empty, darkly gleaming in long streaks122 down their Sides, from what storm-light the condition of the Sky will allow...Dogs run free, feel hungry and accordingly impatient, often get together in packs, and hunt.
"Has no one heard of the Black Dog in these parts, then...?" wonders Dixon.
"The South Mountain Dog? He'd best step cautious 'round my Snake."
"Here's half a Crown says your Snake won't last a minute with my Ralph."
"Done, ye Bugger." No one of course is asking the Dogs, who would prefer sleep or a good meal. But these packs are running according to different plans. Life here is not quite so indulgent or safe as back East, in the Brick Towns. There, you forage123 for food already dead. Here, they encourage you to answer to the Wolf's Commandments to kill what you eat and eat what you kill. And somehow to try to resist the Jackal within, ever crying for carrion124. Not all do. At the Fort you may always find com?missary garbage, tidbits from officers who want Favors,— more tempta?tion than a dog ought to resist. Ev'ry Dog upon the Post, at one time and another, has succumb'd. This helps enhance the Harmony within the Pack, for they are sharing a Sin.
Snake, who has a reputation as a Ratter, is less fond of eating his Prey125, than of killing126 them. Chasing Rats is a good Pastime, combining Speed and the art of getting a step ahead, as well as perfecting solitary fighting skills, for he cannot depend on the Pack being there every time he might need it so, and he figures that if he can slay127 a rat, he can slay a Squirrel with no trouble, up a tree, down a hole, the idea being never to let it get there,— to interdict36.
When Mason approaches him in a friendly way, he decides to trust him, rather than take the trouble to bare his Teeth for nothing. All about, the humans and their children come and go, eating upon the run, flirting128, having disputes about money. The scents129 of food, small fires, and other Dogs are ev'rywhere.
"Hul-lo, Snake...?" the man down on his Haunches, keeping a fair distance, no wish to intrude130. Snake raises his head inquiringly. "I'm assuming that Norfolk Terriers, like other breeds, maintain a Web of Communication among 'em, and I was but curious after the whereabouts these Days of the Learned English Dog, or as I believe he is also known, Fang131."
Snake ponders,— his policy with strangers, indeed with his very Owner all these years, being never to reveal his own Power of Speech, for he's known others, including the credulous132 Fang in fact, who've trusted Humans with the Secret only to find themselves that very Evening in some Assembly Room full of Smoke and Noise, and no promise of Din4?ner till after they've perform'd. Not for Snake, thank you all the same. Something must be getting thro' by way of his Eyebrows, however, for the Man is now smiling, lopsidedly, trying to seem cognizant. "You are said to be fond of Rats. Our Expedition Chef, M. Allègre, is preparing, as we speak, his world-famous Queues du Rat aux Haricots, if that be any inducement."
More like an Emetick, Snake thinks, but does not utter. "Fond of Rats,"— who is this Idiot, anyway?
"All I'd require would be a Nod, after I say,— has he gone North? South? You haven't nodded.— East? Then, only West remaining, I'll take that as a Nod, shall I..."
"Mason," Dixon looming133, vaporous of Ale, the bright Glacis behind him, "Are tha quite comfortable with the Logick of than'?"
The man grumbles134 to his feet. "Snake, Snake, Snake. If there remain'd a farthing candle between us and Monongahela yet unsnuff'd, be certain, Ensign Enthusiasm here would find and snuff it. Yes once again Dixon you have sav'd me from my own poor small Hopes how relentless135, thanks ever so much."
"Happen thy Impetuosity be no Candle, rather an ill-consider'd Fire...?”
From watching Humans out here over the Course of several Winters, Snake recognizes between these two a mark'd degree of Acidity136. They walk away now, gesturing and shouting at each other. Snake puts his head back upon his Paws and sighs thro' his Nose. Old Fang. Who after all could claim to know Fang's true Story? Some saying he did it to himself,— others blaming the Humans who profited from his Strange Abilities. Tis not Snake's way to inform on another Dog, and withal, who knows what that Human was up to, wanting to see him after so much time?
The Surveyors face each other before a hazy137 Ground of blue Distance and Ascension,— the blue Silences that await them. "I know something
is out there, that may not happen till we arrive I am a Northern Brit,
a semi-Scot, a Gnomes138' Intimate,— we never err6 in these things."
"Gone too far, as usual. When will he learn. Never."
"I know what tha wish to happen, what tha hope to find. 'Twould be the only thing that could've brought thee to America."
"And you say you think you can feel...?"
"Don't know what it is. Herd75 of Buffalo139 as easily as Light from Else?where,— something of about that Impact."
"You promise,— you're not just trying to be encouraging, in that cheery way you put on and off like a Wig140... ?"
"I wouldn't joak about thah'...? Not with thee...? With young Hick-man perhaps, or Tom Hynes,—
"Who are,— what? twelve? ten? They think they'll live forever, of course you can all joak about it."
The Gents locate an Ale-Barrel in the Shade. A Virginia Boy, seven or eight or thereabouts, comes running up to quiz with them. "I can show you something no one has ever seen, nor will anyone ever see again."
Mason squints141 in Thought. "There's no such thing."
"Ha-ha!" The lad produces an unopen'd Goober Pea-Shell, exhibiting it to both Astronomers before cracking it open to reveal two red Pea-Nuts within,— "Something no-one has seen,"— popping them in his mouth and eating them,— "and no one will see again." The Gents, astonish'd, for a moment look like a match'd pair of Goobers themselves.
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pelts
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| n. 皮毛，投掷, 疾行 vt. 剥去皮毛，（连续）投掷 vi. 猛击，大步走 | |
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con
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din
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sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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err
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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oars
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| 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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9
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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10
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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11
residue
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| n.残余，剩余，残渣 | |
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12
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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capes
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| 碎谷； 斗篷( cape的名词复数 )； 披肩； 海角； 岬 | |
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14
rogues
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| n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 )；无赖；调皮捣蛋的人；离群的野兽 | |
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15
projectors
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| 电影放映机，幻灯机( projector的名词复数 ) | |
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16
fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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17
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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18
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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19
jointly
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| ad.联合地，共同地 | |
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20
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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21
raptures
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| 极度欢喜( rapture的名词复数 ) | |
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22
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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23
evokes
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| 产生，引起，唤起( evoke的第三人称单数 ) | |
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24
lengthiest
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| adj.长的，漫长的，啰嗦的( lengthy的最高级 ) | |
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25
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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26
exempt
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| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
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27
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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28
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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29
smear
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| v.涂抹；诽谤，玷污；n.污点；诽谤，污蔑 | |
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30
insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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31
canny
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| adj.谨慎的，节俭的 | |
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32
continental
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| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
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33
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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34
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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35
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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36
interdict
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| v.限制；禁止；n.正式禁止；禁令 | |
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37
interdiction
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| n.禁止；封锁 | |
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38
clamorous
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| adj.吵闹的，喧哗的 | |
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39
abdominal
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| adj.腹（部）的，下腹的；n.腹肌 | |
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40
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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41
belles
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| n.美女( belle的名词复数 )；最美的美女 | |
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42
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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43
perilously
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| adv.充满危险地，危机四伏地 | |
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44
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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45
parameters
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| 因素，特征； 界限； （限定性的）因素( parameter的名词复数 )； 参量； 参项； 决定因素 | |
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46
deflected
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| 偏离的 | |
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47
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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48
founders
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| n.创始人( founder的名词复数 ) | |
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49
unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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50
adroitly
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| adv.熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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51
festive
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| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
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52
rejuvenated
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| 更生的 | |
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53
whacking
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| adj.（用于强调）巨大的v.重击，使劲打( whack的现在分词 ) | |
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54
bug
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| n.虫子；故障；窃听器；vt.纠缠；装窃听器 | |
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55
haps
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| n.粗厚毛披巾；偶然，机会，运气( hap的名词复数 ) | |
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56
blurts
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的第三人称单数 ) | |
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57
blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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58
wagering
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| v.在（某物）上赌钱，打赌( wager的现在分词 )；保证，担保 | |
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59
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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60
shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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61
saliva
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| n.唾液，口水 | |
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62
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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63
tarts
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| n.果馅饼( tart的名词复数 )；轻佻的女人；妓女；小妞 | |
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64
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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65
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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66
askew
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| adv.斜地；adj.歪斜的 | |
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67
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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68
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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69
taverns
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| n.小旅馆，客栈，酒馆( tavern的名词复数 ) | |
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70
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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71
waggons
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| 四轮的运货马车( waggon的名词复数 )； 铁路货车； 小手推车 | |
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72
canopies
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| （宝座或床等上面的）华盖( canopy的名词复数 )； （飞行器上的）座舱罩； 任何悬于上空的覆盖物； 森林中天棚似的树荫 | |
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73
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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74
herds
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| 兽群( herd的名词复数 )； 牧群； 人群； 群众 | |
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75
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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76
nought
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| n.／adj.无，零 | |
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77
actively
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| adv.积极地，勤奋地 | |
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78
intrusive
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| adj.打搅的；侵扰的 | |
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79
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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80
musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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81
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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82
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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83
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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84
jugs
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| （有柄及小口的）水壶( jug的名词复数 ) | |
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85
potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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86
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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87
astronomers
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| n.天文学者，天文学家( astronomer的名词复数 ) | |
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88
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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89
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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90
obsess
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| vt.使着迷，使心神不定，（恶魔）困扰 | |
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91
grimaces
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| n.（表蔑视、厌恶等）面部扭曲，鬼脸( grimace的名词复数 )v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的第三人称单数 ) | |
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92
retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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93
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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94
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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95
prevailing
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| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
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96
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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97
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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98
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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99
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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100
creditors
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| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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101
converge
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| vi.会合；聚集，集中；(思想、观点等)趋近 | |
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102
manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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103
batch
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| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
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104
turnips
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| 芜青( turnip的名词复数 )； 芜菁块根； 芜菁甘蓝块根； 怀表 | |
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105
quagmire
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| n.沼地 | |
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106
intriguing
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| adj.有趣的；迷人的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的现在分词)；激起…的好奇心 | |
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107
whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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108
advert
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| vi.注意，留意，言及；n.广告 | |
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109
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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110
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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111
geniality
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| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
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112
admonishes
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| n.劝告( admonish的名词复数 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责v.劝告( admonish的第三人称单数 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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113
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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114
glowering
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| v.怒视( glower的现在分词 ) | |
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115
hilarity
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| n.欢乐；热闹 | |
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116
lookouts
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| n.寻找（ 某人/某物）( lookout的名词复数 )；是某人（自己）的问题；警戒；瞭望台 | |
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117
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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118
confessions
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| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
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119
squeaking
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的现在分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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120
munitions
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| n.军火，弹药；v.供应…军需品 | |
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121
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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122
streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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123
forage
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| n.(牛马的)饲料，粮草；v.搜寻，翻寻 | |
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124
carrion
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| n.腐肉 | |
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125
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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126
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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127
slay
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| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
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128
flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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129
scents
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| n.香水( scent的名词复数 )；气味；（动物的）臭迹；（尤指狗的）嗅觉 | |
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130
intrude
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| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
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131
fang
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| n.尖牙，犬牙 | |
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132
credulous
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| adj.轻信的，易信的 | |
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133
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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134
grumbles
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| 抱怨( grumble的第三人称单数 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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135
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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136
acidity
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| n.酸度，酸性 | |
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137
hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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138
gnomes
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| n.矮子( gnome的名词复数 )；侏儒；（尤指金融市场上搞投机的）银行家；守护神 | |
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139
buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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140
wig
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| n.假发 | |
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141
squints
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| 斜视症( squint的名词复数 )； 瞥 | |
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