Came the last hot spell of the year. Cold winds and rain and cloud of early autumn gave way to a short Indian summer, so warm that insects long too stiff to appear more than for a few hours during the warmest part of each day, came buzzing back to life as if it were springtime. Nose-flies began to bother the horses and the dirty, old, wire-net nose-baskets were brought back into use.
The sunlit air sponged up the aroma3 that oozed4 from the wet earth, and breathing it filled Dora with old longing5. Sensations of loping free over the unfenced earth, like spirits, danced enticingly6 before her yearning7 eyes. Birds flitting through the sweet air sang with the enthusiasm of spring and urged her to resist the forces of evil that fettered8 her. But the harness on her back was heavy. The traces that bound her to the plow1 and the lines that held her to the others who had forgotten what freedom is, were inexorable as the will of the man, whose whip was his only argument.
They had been dragging the unyielding plow for a few hours on the first of these delightful9 mornings, when, looking up as they turned at the end of a furrow10, Dora saw in the distant south a horse and buggy, coming at a good pace. All the way down that furrow she saw the buggy steadily11 grow larger and clearer. Coming up on the next furrow she could see nothing and then as she turned once more she saw White-black coming. She stopped for just a second and the whip came down with a stinging lash12. She sprang forward and pulled along with the rest; but her head was higher than it had been for some time and from her trembling lips came nervous whinnies which White-black did not hear. By the time the two moving objects met, there was a long, melodious13 and very welcome “whoa,” and the four horses stopped facing the one horse in the buggy.
The three horses relaxed and stood with heads lowered, grateful for this bit of rest, but Dora was too excited to stand still. With head erect14, ears pricked15 she called to her old mate with a call that shook the whole of her weary body. White-black raised his head at the first call, looked at the four horses, sniffed16 somewhat like a dog and then with all his strength, replied. Hardly had he finished when Dora, exerting herself to the limit of her strength, called again. White-black started forward as he replied this time but the impatient man in the buggy, flaring18 up with righteous wrath19, cruelly jerked the lines. White-black raised his head in pain and moved back a step. He called again but he did not attempt to go to her any more. His head lowered like that of the horses beside Dora and an expression of utter helplessness came over his white face. Dora, too, dropped her head with the full realisation of the futility20 of trying in any way to overcome the hold man had upon them.
The ploughman left the buggy side where he had been standing21, conversing22 with the visitor, and walked back toward his plow a few feet, then stopped, and continued the conversation.
“Then I can depend upon you?” said the man in the buggy.
“Oh, I’ll unhook right away,” replied the other, taking out his watch, “and I’ll be there by supper time. I’ll start just as soon as I feed the horses and get a bite myself.”
“All right!” said the stranger, striking White-black a blow with the whip that sent him forward at a bound.
Dora called after him. From the distance, even as he was running away at top speed, White-black called back, helplessly. Dora tried hard to keep her eyes on the shrinking buggy and the two white ears that protruded23 above it, but her eyes were hemmed24 in by the blinders and she found it difficult. She was obliged to raise her head over the mane of the little bay mare25. Forgetting for the moment the man at the plow, she rested her head upon the bay mare’s neck and called and called again.
There was a sudden order to move on and Dora started off, expecting to pull with all her might upon the traces. She was most agreeably surprised to find that they had been unhooked and all the way to the house, stirred by emotions which she had no other way of expressing, she pulled ahead of the others, eager to get to the farmyard as if she expected to be released there so that she could go back to the world and the life for which she longed with old fervour again.
Dora was unharnessed and taken to her stall in the barn. The little bay mare was released in the corral, while the two big horses with their harness on were put into the stall next to Dora and all were fed. In an hour the farmer was ready to depart. He came into the barn and took the two horses out, and soon after, Dora heard the wagon26 rumbling27 away.
During the last few weeks, throughout the endless hours of wearing toil28, Dora had yearned29 for the stall; but now as she stood there, fresh from the unexpected meeting with her lifelong companion, the enclosure of the barn was as harassing30 as the slavery of harness, and without knowing why she did it, realising fully31 that White-black was far out of hearing, she called and called like a broken-hearted mother from whom her foal had been taken.
Her calling was suddenly answered by the loud voice of the boy, who dashed into the barn and began quickly to saddle her. He tightened32 the cinch, as he always did, till Dora protested, and then put into her mouth the rider’s bit with its cruel bend. So, too, he put on the wire-net nose basket and fastened it so high that the wire-net pressed against her lips.
As soon as Dora got outdoors she looked for signs of White-black. When the boy jumped to the saddle she started away to the south, but with an angry pull of the reins33 he turned her to the west. In spite of the fact that she had been working to the limit of her strength, in spite of the pain in her muscles and limbs, she leaped away like a racer, and in spite of the fact that she was already going at her greatest speed, the idiotic34 boy, as was his habit, kept applying the spurs. On the trail along the wire fences she merely tossed her head with displeasure at every dig, but when they reached the end of the fences and he turned her diagonally across the trackless plains, the sight of the open, unobstructed prairie helped her to make her show of resentment36 plainer.
But the stupid boy not only failed to perceive that he might have been wrong, he resented what struck him as a challenge to his authority. He meant to show her that he was master. He jerked the reins back with all his might and dug the spurs into her sides.
“Go ahead!” he cried when she fled across the plains as if she had been frightened and were running away, “You can’t go too fast to suit me!”
Before Dora, as she sped, loomed37 an exceedingly large badger38 hole, the freshly dug, yellow earth piled high to one side. She was used to badger holes and had long ago learned to cunningly avoid them, no matter how suddenly one appeared in her vision. But despite his tactics the boy was surprised by Dora’s unusually nervous behaviour. He was not at all sure that she wasn’t really trying to run away. In spite of his fear, he could not allow himself to dispense39 with his bullying40 proclivities41, and as she neared the hole he turned her head sideways and once more plied17 the spurs without reserve.
Where she would have, without any difficulty, avoided it on her own account, his turning her head drove her upon the mound42 of earth. Her leg slipped on the loose, newly-dug earth and went down the hole and as the boy attempted to leap from the saddle he was thrown forward six feet from her head, landing with a thud and a shriek43.
He was not badly hurt, but he was so badly scared that he yelled like a frightened baby. When he got to his feet there was an expression of murderous intent on his face and he stretched his arms forward as he started for her as if he meant to beat the life out of her when he got hold of her. But he did not get hold of her. She had been frightened, too, and had stood looking at him, unable to decide what to do; but when she saw those hands, she reared high into the air in an effort to prevent his seizing the reins. This time he backed away afraid of the hoofs44 that rose threateningly before him. She turned with a gracefully45 defiant46 toss of her head and bounded away as fast as the dragging reins would allow her to go. She could hear his frantic47 threatening cries, but that voice had lost its power. Her chance had come at last!
By his futile48 cries she could tell how far she was leaving him behind her. She dared not stop to look back even when she heard his cries no more. The reins trailing on the ground impeded49 her flight and she felt as if he were but a short distance behind her and would soon reach her. In her mad race for freedom she kept stepping on the reins and every step tore her lips and battered50 her palate; but not for a moment did this actually halt her. She endured the pain like one who was aware of the fact that the goal was worth it, till all that was left of the reins dangled51 a few inches from her muzzle52.
A mile farther west from the badger hole was a patch of woodland. When she reached it, Dora stopped for a second to look back; but she did not see the boy. A hill, in between, obstructed35 her view. She felt somewhat freer not seeing him; but still she went as fast as she could go working her way through the woods. The branches of the trees caught in her saddle and made going very fast impossible. Twigs54 hooked in the ring of the bit outside of the basket and not only hurt her but frightened her because sometimes she had sensations of being seized by some man. But despite these pulls and digs and impediments, dodging55 the branches as best she could, she came in half an hour to a large open space. Two or three miles beyond that she saw another patch of woods and headed straight for that. She got through this bit of woodland without much trouble and reaching another open space she followed the wall of trees in its irregular curve to the north.
Still northward56 she fled, though the north had failed her. It was evening, when after a steady trot57 for twenty-five miles she came to the strip of forest that borders upon the Saskatchewan and there, coming upon a deer path which was familiar to her, she plunged58 into the shadows of the woods. She was too tired and still too weary of pursuit to think of food. Coming to a windfall where she had many a time successfully hidden in the days before her captivity59, she lay down to rest.
She had been down but a short time when the prodding60 of the hard wooden stirrup upon which she was lying forced her up. She tried to lie down again, but again the stirrup forced her to get up. Again and again she tried it, but each time with the same result, and finally with the growing fever of a new and threatening fear, she gave up the attempt to rest and went instead for a drink of water at the river. When she reached the river’s edge she stopped to stare across to the wilds beyond. There was a wish in her heart that she could find some way of getting across the moving water, but that wish was dulled by a vague realisation of the fact that now, without her old followers61, getting across would not be wholly satisfactory.
A great sad stillness brooded over the river, hanging over the silvery reflections of the sky-line like a dome62 of mist that rested upon the dreary63 shadows of the trees and banks on each side. Confinement64 and toil had sickened Dora’s love of the wilds, though memory sought to exalt65 it as of old, and the beauty of the wilderness66, without her companions, was only desolation. A nameless longing in her heart and a complexity67 of fears she had never experienced before seized upon her like a disease. It was as if she expected a fatal blow from some hidden enemy that moved about her in every possible direction.
She bent68 down and drank at her feet. It was hard and disagreeable to drink with the wire-net on her muzzle and the iron bit in her mouth. She lashed69 the fast flowing stream with her muzzle in the hope that somehow the nasty basket would be washed away by the water, but she gave up the attempt and drank as best she could. Suddenly she lifted her head and stared away into the dark spaces. In the far distance a small shadowy form swooped70 from the top of a tall poplar, like a bit of shadow breaking away from the body of the night, and disappeared in the whiteness of the sky, leaving behind the melancholy71 echo of its cry. She followed it with her eyes till it was no more visible, then suddenly turned and ran for the open.
It was not only the open prairie she sought, because the open prairie was the world she knew and loved best; but something else was driving her. A fear that seemed to have been born of shadow and water and the lonely cry of the loon72. It was the sudden realisation that though she had escaped from the detestable slavery of man and toil and dirty barn, she had carried away from her bondage73 man’s inescapable curse.
Her first act upon reaching the open was to search the shaded distances, then out of the depths of her embittered74, fear-infested heart, she sent into the wilds she had longed for her earnest appeal for companionship; but only the mocking echo of her own voice came back from the motionless tree-walls on each side of her. She lowered her head to graze but raised it at once again. Now she knew what she had feared. Now she grasped something of the extent of man’s curse. The wire-net on her muzzle, like a trap, forbade her to eat until she returned humbly75 to man and submitted to his tyranny.
In a frenzy76 of fear and anger she loped about in a circle for the greater part of an hour, then she attempted to rub the cursed thing from her lips. But rubbing on the ground pushed back the levers of the rider’s bit and hurt her with every move. She stopped to think a moment, gazing helplessly about. She lowered her head, pushing it along between her hoofs, and pulling it forward, trying to rub it off that way; but all that she did was to bend the strong wire of the basket, which after that pressed painfully into her nose. She tried rubbing her muzzle against the bark of a tree. A small twig53 point pierced the skin of her lip and as she hastily pulled her head back the lever of the bit caught in some way and she struggled for some time before she freed it. Then she gave up, running off into space as if she were trying to flee from some fearful thing she had just seen.
The cinch was still tight and though it did not bother her much when she was up on her feet, it seemed to grow tighter and cut into her skin when she tried to lie down; and if, for want of rest, she lay down anyway, the stirrups always fell in such a way as to press into some tender spot as she lay upon one of them. She would endure that for a few minutes and then she would get up again with a groan77.
The poplar woods about the Saskatchewan are not continuous. Patches and strips covering spaces of from one to fifty acres cut up the rolling plains. By running round about these she could keep herself invisible to approaching enemies. Her old power to detect man’s approach seemed to come back to her. Once that day she thought she detected some one coming, and hid in the trees without even making sure, then coming out on the other side and taking a roundabout run, left that section of the country. Yet as she hastily put distance between herself and this danger, she half realised that she might have to go back at last to the man from whom she had escaped, who she knew could save her from the iron grip on her muzzle. Two days later she saw some one coming on the eastern horizon. She was certain that it was the boy pursuing her and first going north to get under cover of a patch of woods, she fled west for many miles.
She came late in the afternoon to the pond in the wilderness where White-black had been trapped in the mud. She remembered clearly White-black’s floundering in the mud and avoided that side of the pond. She walked leisurely78 around it, gazing over the silent water from whose brightness she missed the remembered sight of ducks. Many a time in her slavery she had had visions of this bit of water with its reflections smiling up to the heavens. It seemed hard for her to believe that she was really there. She had longed so often to be there; yet, now, she experienced something like a feeling of disappointment. What it was or why, she did not know.
She was crossing a muddy spot when she slipped and fell on her side. She was not hurt but slightly stunned79 and remained lying down. As she lay there it occurred to her that the stirrup was not hurting her. She did not think of its sinking into the mud, but thenceforth when she wanted to lie down she came to that muddy spot. The pond came to her assistance in another way. She had gone in some distance to get a drink of clear water where the pond bottom was quite hard and as she drank, some of the lower rushes penetrated80 the basket through the meshes81 of the net. She lowered her muzzle carefully, keeping her jaws82 open; and when she felt some of the rushes in her mouth, she cropped them quickly, chewing them triumphantly83 as the water dripped from her muzzle.
The rushes grew tallest in the centre of the pond. She was afraid to go in very far, feeling constantly, as she would move inward, that this time she was going to stick there. It was not long before what rushes she could reach had all been cropped. She learned to get some grass by doing with the grass what she had done with the rushes, but though this was better food she could not get as much of the grass as she had gotten of the rushes. She managed in that way, however, to keep life burning in her bedraggled body.
The fear of being pursued and captured again left her as the days went by without a sign of man, but as this fear left came hunger. All day she struggled to obtain enough grass to keep her alive and when the stirrup resting on frozen mud kept her awake at night, she only thought of grass and how to get more and more of it. The sweetness of the wilds she had loved was gone, leaving them hollow and desolate84 and so cruelly unresponsive as to be almost mocking.
Day after day man’s curse grew heavier to bear and the strangle-hold it had upon her life contracted with more telling effect. It was only a matter of a short time when its contracting hold would finally and mercifully put an end to her misery85.
The short Indian summer passed away. The nights became cold and the frosts froze the mud into rock. When in lying down the stirrup pressed into some tender spot, she would endure the pain, then rise next morning and go limping over the plains. A layer of thick ice which no longer melted by the middle of the day now covered the pond. What little frozen dew that she could get, with the little grass she could crop, only intensified86 her thirst and the desire for water drove her to desperation. She tried to break a hole in the ice but she did not have the necessary strength. The irresistible87 desire for water sent her out upon the slippery ice in the hope of finding a weaker spot. A dozen feet from the edge she slipped and fell with a crash, breaking through and falling into the icy water. She was obliged to rest a while before she could summon enough energy to get up. When she did get up she was aching from head to foot and on her leg was an open, bleeding wound. She drank, however, all she could hold, then she turned and looked helplessly to the shore, afraid to step over the broken ice, falling again when at last she ventured toward it, but finally getting back.
Her sides pained her terribly and her open wound smarted and itched88. She tried to lick it but only hurt it with the wire-net. She stood stolidly89 for a few moments, her addled90 brain trying to clarify the great confusion that came over it. What was she to do? What was going to become of her? Life was almost unendurable, and instincts of terrifying force guarded against the death that would have relieved her. Paroxysms of fear swept over her, filling the shadows of the desolation with beasts of prey91 who, leering and licking their chops, waited with terrifying patience for the weaker moment when they expected to pull her down.
Geese flew southward constantly and their ominous92 honking93 sang dirges94 to the death of all that life had been to her in its happier past. The skies grew grey and remained chronically95 grey and the atmosphere seemed filled up with a great cosmic sorrow, like the face of a child suppressing the impulse to cry. The winds reaching out from the frozen north wailed96 with maddening grief.
A taciturn old coyote began to worry her. He would sometimes pass her while she grazed or struggled in her attempts to graze, each time seemingly coming nearer. He filled her soul with terror. Sometimes he woke her at night with his demoniac howling and she would spring to her feet and shake and tremble with fear and cold, only to find that he was sitting on the rim97 of the hollow, looking down at her, his black, hateful form cut clearly against the dark grey sky. Then one morning, she awoke to find him less than a rod away, sitting on his haunches and watching her. He fled when she sprang weakly toward him with a fearful cry in which she tried desperately98 to be defiant; but she decided99 then to abandon the horror-infested basin.
The great weakness was upon her. The coyote had long recognised it and she knew it now. Whither she was to go or what she was to do, she did not know. Only she felt the need of going and she went, limping slowly and painfully, sick in body and soul, all her defiance100 of man crushed out of her. Thus the erstwhile Queen of the wilds lumbered101 painfully over the plains that seemed to no longer sustain her, going humbly back to man to dumbly beg for mercy, for even in that state of mind she felt that as man had placed his curse upon her only man could remove it.
It was a dreary, dull afternoon. The sun struggled to show itself and its weakest warmth was driven from her protruding102 bones by a cold, cutting gale103. In her lumbering104 along over the plains that seemed strangely dim and uncertain she stopped every once in a while and stared like a decrepit105 old woman. She came at last to an open space between two patches of woodland and stopped to gaze wild-eyed upon a black shanty106 covered with tar-paper, and a sod barn.
The smells that came from that farmyard made it very hard for her to advance, but the intense feeling of her desperation conquered each wave of fear and step by step she made her way toward the house, stopping at last, a hundred feet away, unable to go any farther. There was no sign of life. Fear held her motionless yet hunger and thirst and weakness urged her to call for help. Her call sounded weak and hollow. She called again with greater exertion107 and in that call a note of conciliation108 was unmistakably audible.
Suddenly she saw the door of the shanty open and a woman came out. Had it been a man, all her unworded resolution would have gone to naught109 and Dora would have turned and fled; but a woman was a different experience. She turned nervously110 and walked off a short distance, but when the woman advanced toward her holding out a hand and calling with a most winning voice, she stopped and waited. When the woman came nearer Dora heard her own name. The recognition of that sound gave her so much hope and courage that she deliberately111 turned toward the woman who by that time was near enough to take hold of one of the pieces of strap112 that still hung from the bit-ring.
For a few minutes the woman patted her forehead lovingly and talked to her in a way that warmed poor Dora as if the woman had placed a blanket over her cold aching body. When the woman began leading her toward the house she followed willingly till the door opened and a little girl came out, then she stopped as if afraid; but when the woman urged she went on, keeping her eyes upon the little girl.
At the well, the little girl chopped a hole in the ice on the trough while the woman removed the basket, bridle113, halter and what was left of the saddle and Dora lowered her head quickly into the water and drank as rapidly as she could.
“He never feeds his critters,” piped in the little girl.
“He doesn’t feed his wife,” added the woman, not because she wanted to tell this to the little girl, but rather because she wanted to express the hatred115 of an old and bitter feud116.
“Take these rotten things,” said the woman, pointing to the bridle and the halter, while she seized the remains117 of the saddle. “Let’s get them out of the way, and don’t you ever open your mouth to tell any one, no matter who it is, that his mare was here. I don’t want his rotten old saddle and bridle. He never keeps anything looking decent enough for any one to want any of his rotten things. Anyway it is a sin to send this poor mare back to him. It ain’t up to me to catch his runaway118 critters for him and I just can’t let the poor critter go off like this and die. When Dad gets back from threshin’, he’ll take these things and drop ’em on the road near his place where he will be sure to find them.”
When Dora had drunk all she could, she turned immediately to some grass near by and began voraciously119 to pull at it. The woman had befriended her and she was not afraid of her. But to her surprise, when she came back, the woman rushed at her with something in her hand which she waved threateningly at her, clearly ordering her away. Dora ran off as fast as she could go and when she got well out of the way, she turned to look back with a puzzled expression on her face. Both the woman and the little girl were calmly entering the shanty.
Without an attempt to get at the motive120 behind the woman’s strange conduct, Dora went on grazing there, moving off and looking back when her mouth was too full to crop, eating so rapidly and so absorbedly that she had no time to think about the phenomenal change that had thus miraculously121 come over her. If she was not thinking gratefully, she did feel grateful and possibly some higher intellectual force than hers, in some way, realised for her that only justice had been done.
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1
plow
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| n.犁，耕地，犁过的地；v.犁，费力地前进[英]plough | |
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2
plowing
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| v.耕( plow的现在分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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3
aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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4
oozed
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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5
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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enticingly
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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8
fettered
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| v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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9
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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10
furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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13
melodious
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| adj.旋律美妙的，调子优美的，音乐性的 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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15
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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16
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；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 | |
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17
plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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futility
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| n.无用 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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protruded
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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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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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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harassing
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| v.侵扰，骚扰( harass的现在分词 )；不断攻击（敌人） | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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32
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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33
reins
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| 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 | |
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34
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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35
obstructed
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| 阻塞( obstruct的过去式和过去分词 )； 堵塞； 阻碍； 阻止 | |
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36
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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37
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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38
badger
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| v.一再烦扰，一再要求，纠缠 | |
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39
dispense
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| vt.分配，分发；配(药)，发(药)；实施 | |
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40
bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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41
proclivities
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| n.倾向，癖性( proclivity的名词复数 ) | |
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42
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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43
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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44
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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45
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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46
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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47
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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48
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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49
impeded
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| 阻碍，妨碍，阻止( impede的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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51
dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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52
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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53
twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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54
twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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55
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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56
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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57
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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58
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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59
captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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60
prodding
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| v.刺，戳( prod的现在分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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61
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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62
dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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63
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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64
confinement
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| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
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65
exalt
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| v.赞扬，歌颂，晋升，提升 | |
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66
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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67
complexity
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| n.复杂(性)，复杂的事物 | |
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68
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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69
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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70
swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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72
loon
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| n.狂人 | |
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73
bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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74
embittered
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| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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75
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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76
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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77
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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78
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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79
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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80
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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81
meshes
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| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
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82
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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83
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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84
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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85
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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86
intensified
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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87
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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88
itched
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| v.发痒( itch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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89
stolidly
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| adv.迟钝地，神经麻木地 | |
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90
addled
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| adj.（头脑）糊涂的，愚蠢的；（指蛋类）变坏v.使糊涂( addle的过去式和过去分词 )；使混乱；使腐臭；使变质 | |
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91
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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92
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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93
honking
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| v.（使）发出雁叫似的声音，鸣（喇叭），按（喇叭）( honk的现在分词 ) | |
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94
dirges
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| n.挽歌( dirge的名词复数 )；忧伤的歌，哀歌 | |
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95
chronically
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| ad.长期地 | |
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96
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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98
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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99
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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100
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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101
lumbered
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| 砍伐（lumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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102
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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103
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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104
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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105
decrepit
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| adj.衰老的，破旧的 | |
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106
shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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107
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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108
conciliation
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| n.调解，调停 | |
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109
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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110
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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111
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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112
strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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113
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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114
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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115
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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116
feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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117
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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118
runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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119
voraciously
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| adv.贪婪地 | |
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120
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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121
miraculously
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| ad.奇迹般地 | |
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