To arrive at a proper feeling for the continuity of the great central plain, it must be approached [128] from the south, by way of the old Tejon Pass, up from San Fernando, or down the Tehachapi grade where the railroad loops and winds through the confluence4 of the Coast Range with the Sierra Nevada. Here the hills curve graciously about the vast oval of the lower San Joaquin. The downthrow of the mountain, stippled5 with sage-brush, gives way to tawny6 sand glistening7 here and there with white patches of alkali, mottled with dark blocks of irrigated8 land. Its immensity is obscured by the haze9 of heat.
One is reduced to the figures of the real estate "booster" for terms of proportion. That modest checkering of green, hours away to the left, is a forty-mile field of alfalfa; beyond it lie the vineyards that in less than a quarter of a century relegated10 Spain to a second place in the raisin11 industry of the world. This is the San Joaquin of to-day and to-morrow. The white-tilted vans of the Argonauts saw it as one vast, overlapping12 field of radiant corollas, blue of lupins, phacelias, nemophilias, gold of a hundred packed species of composite. Wet years it is still possible for the settler in the unirrigated districts to wake some morning to blossomy lakes of sky-blueness in the hollows; from San Emigdio in the Temblors, I [129] have seen, across the whole width of the valley, the smouldering poppy fires along the bluffs13 of Kern River. On the mesa below Tejon the moon-white gilia that the children call "evening snow" unfurls its musky-scented drifts mile after mile. But the prevailing15 note of the San Joaquin is tawny russet; gold it will be in the season, resplendent as those idols16 which the Incas overlaid yearly with fresh-beaten leaf, and in September the barrancas above Bakersfield and Visalia as yellow as brass17, but all up and down the hill-rimmed hollow is every lion-coloured tint19 contending still with the thin belts of planted orchard20.
Twenty-five years of cultivation21 have served to shift the lines of greenness but not greatly to modify the desert key. Once it was all massed in the tulares which fringed the series of lakes and connecting sloughs22, continuing northward23 from the lowest point of the San Joaquin. Kern, Kings, Kaweah, Tule, Merced, and Tuolumne, mighty24 rivers, and a hundred lesser25 singing streams fed it. Elk26 by thousands ramped27 in its reedy borders. It was a haven28 of nesting water-birds. Whole islands were populated by pelicans29, repairing there annually30 for the strange, sidling wing-dances that attend their mating. Blue herons nested in the [130] tulares; they could be seen trailing their long dangly31 legs for hours above the shallows. Indians paddled in their frail32 balsas, built of papery, dry reeds, down intricate water-lanes in which white men venturing, lost themselves and were mazed34 to madness. Malaria35 of a surpassing virulence36 rode up and down that country on the "tule fogs." Even yet it is the dread37 of the cities of the plain to find themselves beleaguered38 by the thick, ghost-white mists that at long intervals39 roll along the ground, retaking the ancient marshes40.
Into this potential opulence41 the cattleman precipitated42 himself. He bought—it is more exact to say he acquired—vast acreage of Spanish grants; along the rim18 of the Coast Ranges, territory equal to principalities was given over to long-horned, lean herds43. All about the old beach-line of the San Joaquin may still be seen the remnant of the cattle ranches44, low formless houses with purlieus of pomegranate and pampas grass and black figs45, and the high, stockaded, acrid-smelling corrals, to mark the receding46 waves of the cattle industry. On the Sierra side the guttered47 mesas, the hoof-worn foothills advertise the devastation48 of the wandering flocks. Early in the 'sixties these appeared, little, long-armed French and Basques, [131] with hungry hordes49 of sheep at their heels, pasturing on the public lands. They ate into the roots of the lush grass and left the quick rains to cut the soil. The wool in the hand was always worth the next season's feed to the sheep-herder.
Never was a land so planned for the uses of man, its shielding mountains, its deep alluvial50 terraces sloping gently to the sun. Men read it in the hieroglyphic51 the glistening waters spelled between the dark patches of the tulares, but it took some experimenting to read the message aright.
After the cattle and the flocks came the wheat. Up from the meeting waters the land billowed with grain. Owners buckled52 the ploughs together and drove them with engines by tens and twenties across the thousand-acre fields. But men and engines, they were alike driven by the drouth. In wet years the wheat rancher rode to view his shoulder-high harvest, but when the rains, going high and wide over the valley to break along the saw-teeth of the Sierras, left the wheat unwatered, the same thing happened to the crops that had happened to the cattle and the sheep. And at last, amid the rotting carcases and the shrivelled acres, the message came clear—not the land, but [132] the water. So they shut up the rivers in the cañons and the day of the orchardist54 began.
Geographically55 it begins at Bakersfield, below the gap where the Kern comes down from the giant sequoias and is constrained57 to the wide, willow-planted canals, governed by head-gates and weirs58. Such waters as find again their ancient levels, do so by way of the loose sandy soil through which they are filtered in vineyard and orchard. The tulares have been turned under; the elk are strictly59 preserved in the hope that enough of them will breed to serve the purposes of curiosity. The antelope60 bands that once flashed their white rumps from bench to bench of the tawny mesas were reduced, the last time I saw them, to a scant61 half-score roving the Tejon under the watchful62 eye of the superintendent63. But with all this change, nowhere as at this diminished end, does one gather such an impression of the variety, the imperial extent of the San Joaquin. For at Bakersfield is one of the world's largest petroleum64 fields. The gaunt derricks rear along the unwatered hills like half-formed prehistoric65 creatures come up out of the ground to see what men are about. Reservoirs, fed with the stinking66 juices of a time decayed, squat67 along the barrancas, considering with a slow [133] leech-like intelligence the tank cars in the form of a Gargantuan68 joint-worm of the same period that produced the derricks, as they clank between the oil-fields and the town. One of the largest oil-fields in the world—and yet the turn of the road drops it out of sight in the valley's immensity!
Bakersfield is a heaven of roses. Doubtless there are other things by which the inhabitants would be glad to have it remembered, but this is the item that the traveller in the season carries away with him. Roses do not die there, they fall apart of their own sweetness, wafts69 of which envelop70 the town for miles out on the highway. After nightfall, when each particular attar distils71 upon the quiescent72 air, the townspeople walk abroad in the streets and the moon comes up full-orbed across the Temblors at about the level of the clock-tower. Overhead and beyond it the sky retains a deep velvety73 blueness until long past midnight. Traces of colour can be seen sometimes in the zenith when the glimmer74 along the knife-edge of the Sierras announces the dawn.
North of Bakersfield, as the valley widens, the Coast Range fades to a mere2 shadow mountain, the peaks of Kaweah stand out above the banded haze, angel-white like the ranked Host. As the [134] road swings in to the Sierra outposts, broad-headed oaks begin to appear; it skirts the foot of the great Sierra fault close enough for the landscape to borrow something from the dark, impending75 pines. But for the most part what the observer has to consider is soil and water and the miraculous76 product of these two. One must learn to think of the land in terms of human achievement.
North from the delta77 of Kern River lies a hundred miles of country scarcely disputed with the flocks, far-called and few, which still at the set time of the year forgather in green swales behind the town for the annual shearing78, for the herders to play hand-ball at Noriegas', to grow riotously79 claret drunk and render an evanescent foreign touch to the brisk modern community. And every foot of that hundred miles is rife81 with the seeds of life, awaiting the touch of the impregnating water. One holds to that conviction as to a friendly assuring hand. In the presence of that vast plain, palpitating with the heat, the sluggish, untamed water lolling in the midst of it, the white-fanged Sierra combing the cloudless blue, beauty becomes a poor word: appreciation82 is shipwrecked and cast away. With relief one hails the beginning of a stripe, dark green like a scarf, scalloping the foothills—the citrus belt. [135] From Portersville, Lindsay, Exeter it runs north past the meeting of the waters into the valley of the Sacramento, and for quality and early fruiting sets the figure of the world market. As if its waters had some special virtue83, wherever a river is poured out upon the plain some particular crop is favoured. About Fresno it is raisins84, at Madera port wine, sherry, and mild muscatel. The Merced, which takes its rise in the valley of Yosemite, is partial to melons and figs. But everywhere are prunes85, peaches, apricots, almonds, sugar-beets, alfalfa, unmeasurable acreage of barley86, beans, and asparagus. Anything is impressive if the scale be large enough, even a field of onions. Here the league-long rows are as terrible as an army.
Up and down this empire belt proceed two great companies, the hordes of "fruit-hands" and the army of the bees, following its successive waves of fruit and bloom. Gangs of pruners, pickers, and packers are shifted and shunted as the crop demands. Interesting economic experiments transact87 themselves under the worried producer's eye; alien race contending with alien race. The jarring interests of men have by no means worked out the absolute solution, but the bees have long ago settled their business. They kill the drones [136] and gather the honey for the gods who kindly88 provide them with hives—the more fortunate perhaps in knowing what their particular gods require.
Wherever along the belt the rivers fail, the pumps take up the work; strenuous89 little Davids contending against the Goliaths of drouth. They can be heard chugging away like the active pulse of the vineyards, completing the ribbon of greenness that spans from ridge90 to ridge of the down-plunging hills.
And then one must take account of the cities of the plain! Twenty-five years ago they fringed the Sierra base, mere feeders to the mines, the cattle ranches, the sheep country. They had the manners of the frontier and the decaying, tawdry vices91 that filtered down from San Francisco, sluiced92 out by intermittent93 spasms94 of reform. They were "wide open." Hairy little herders with jabbering95 tongues knifed one another in the shearing season, vaqueros "shot up the town" occasionally; it is still within memory that prominent citizen "packed a gun" for prominent citizen. Twenty years ago the last, most southerly, of the chain of settlements was a very cesspool of the iniquities96 driven to a last stand by the influx97 [137] of home-seekers. I who went through the years of change with it could tell tales if I would—but, thank Heaven, nobody would believe them! Now in those old places of unsavoury renown98 rise handsome "business blocks," the true mark of cities. Homes heaped with roses spread on either side of miles of palm-fringed boulevard. Over it all flows the clear, inspiring current of Sierra-cooled air, sliding down from the ranked peaks that, whitened from flank to flank by perpetual snows, hover99 like phalanxes of protecting wings.
Into the very thick of the cities drop down from the high Sierras trails to all its places of delight, the sequoia56 groves100, King's River cañon, and all the lordly peaks about Mt. Whitney and Yosemite; and setting hillward from San Francisco the old Stockton-Sonora road along which surged the undisciplined rout53 of the gold-seekers of 'forty-nine. It leads, this earliest of valley highways, across the basin of the Stanislaus, past places made famous by the red-shirted, lusty miners, the sleek-coated gamblers of Bret Harte. It passes the twenty-eight Mile House where Jack102 Hamlin ran a poker103 game, and many a scene rendered memorable104 by the gay ladies of Poker Flat. It reaches, by way of a deep-rutted, ancient [138] track, choked with the characteristic red dust of the country, Table Mountain, the home of Truthful105 James. Table Mountain, having consideration for the near-by Sierras, is a hill merely, with a flat deposit of malpais, the "black rock" of regions far north and east. Beyond Sonora lie the old placer "diggings," every foot of which has been combed and sifted106 for gold. The bones of the earth are laid bare; all the masking clay, tossed and tumbled, clogged107 with rusty108 pipes and decaying sluices109, lies in heaps and depressions where the gold-seekers cast it. The sense of violation110 is heightened by the hue111 of the soil, redder than the hills of Devon, redder than a red heifer—but the river furnishes the more descriptive figure, the martyr112 hue of the Sacrament. In the flood season it carries the tint of its ensanguined clays far down into the bay's blueness.
The remnant of that riotous80 life,—the abandoned cabins, the towns falling into dissolution,—like the remaining specimens113 of the fir and redwood forests cut off to timber the Mother Lode114, is left standing115 by unfitness. The best of it is a little nugget of remembrance of Francis Bret Harte and Mark Twain.
It was at Angels in the foothills of Calaveras [139] that Twain, to his everlasting116 fame, was so impressed with the performance of the Jumping Frog. But life at Angels and all up and down that placer country is as heavy with desuetude117 as the frog was after the bar-keeper had fed him with buckshot. As well try to get a draught118 of that old time as a drink at any of the dismantled119 bars, high, ornate, black walnut120 affairs across which, in dust and nuggets, passed and repassed probably as much gold as would serve to buy the orange belt of the San Joaquin—and for a figure of magnificence you would find nothing more acceptable to its inhabitants.
Much of the history of that country is written in the names. Here the soft Spanish locutions give place to harsher, but not less descriptive, Americanisms—Jimtown, Jackass Hill, Squaw Creek121; the cañons become "gulches," the mesas "flats." Later both of these were overlaid by -villes and -tons, the plain rural names of Anglo-Saxon derivation, Coulterville, Farmington, Turlock. They smell of orchards122. Prosperity is coming back on the surface of the fruitful waters, but the redwood forests have not come back. Centuries, nothing less, are required for the building of one of these towers of greenness, and it is [140] barely forty years since all that district was one roaring blast of mining life, rioting, jostling, snatching each from each. In the language of the country, the Italian truck gardeners will "beat them to it." They have smoothed over the old "slickens" and comforted the land with crops.
As one travels north, the bulk of the Sierra lessens123, the pines climb higher, the oaks march well down into the middle valley to catch the wet coast winds, the character of the plantations124 change, there are more grain fields, more neat little farms. Finally the old Overland emigrant125 trail climbs down from Donner Lake and Emigrant Gap, and you find yourself deep in the Valley of the Sacramento.
By an air-line from the meeting of the waters, its geographical frontier is passed in the neighbourhood of Sonora; perhaps the bridge over the Mokelumne is a better indicator126, since that river joins the San Joaquin at the estuary127, but it is not until the Overland road is crossed that the character of the country definitely betrays the upper valley.
Ascending128 the river, the works of man are less and less, the forest and the mountains more. The rapid rise of the wooded slopes keeps the [141] Sacramento troublous. Tributaries129, not large but swift and of tremendous volume, pour into it. Occasionally from dark cañons is heard the steady pound of the quartz130 mill, working some ancient lead, or a smelter blocks out a whole forested slope with its poisonous exhalations; but for the most part the northern valley is given over to brooding quiet, to unending green, and streams as swift as adders131.
In Mendocino county, on the coast side, the Range begins to lift toward the snow-line; on the Sierra side the alpine132 crest133 shears134 away. From time to time the "logging" industry cuts a wide track down the redwood forest. One hears above the singing rivers, the clucking of the donkey-engine or the rip of a mill still going in the midst of its self-created, sawdust desert. The glutting135 of the lumber136 region has been accomplished137 as wastefully138, as violently, as the search for gold. All up the valley tall prophets of the rain have been butchered to make a lumberman's fat purse. But, link by link, the forestry139 bureau is closing in the line of the reserves against the lumber "kings," the Ahabs of a grasping time.
The hills fall into a certain order, serried140 rank on rank. Deciduous141 growth of the lower slopes [142] gives way to redwoods and Shasta fir. Miles upon miles of them stand so thick that when one dies it does not fall but remains142 erect143 in the arms of its brothers. Great columnar boles rise out of the river-basins, soaring high over what, except for their dwarfing144 proportions, would be a considerable grove101 of graceful145 oak and bay and glistening, magnolia-leafed, crimson-shafted madroño. Over these the redwoods rise, as over the heads of worshippers the clustered columns of Milan seek the dome146. High up the tops are caught in a froth of pale-green foliage147 through which the sunlight filters blue. This characteristic refraction from their yellowish, inch-long needles dwells about the redwood as an aura, and far on the horizon distinguishes their ranks from the hill-slopes masked with pines. So, blue ridge on ridge, they advance on the imperious height of Shasta.
Shasta is a brother of Fuji and Tacoma, one of those solitary148 crater149 peaks whose whiteness is the honourable150 age of fiery151 youth, a good mountain dead and gone to heaven. Do not go up on it; you will see a great deal more of what you have seen, wooded hills on hills and perhaps the sapphire152 belt of the sea, the glitter of lovely, sail-less lakes, but you will not understand it any better, for [143] Shasta has no more to do with the abutting153 ranges than a great genius with the stock which produced him. This is a prophet among mountains, a vent33 from the burning heart of creation. One is not surprised to learn that the Indians hereabout count their descent from the Spirit of Shasta and the Grizzly154 Bear. That dark belt of forest circling the mountain's base looks to be the proper haunt for him, the lumbering155, little-eyed embodiment of brute156 creation. It is well to think of those two things together, the rip of those mighty claws with a ton or two of brute bulk behind them, and the awful witness towering to the blue, and suffer the soul-satisfying fear that lies in wait for man in the great places of the earth. All our modern fears are mean, fears of the common opinion and the bill collector. Shasta will have done its best for you if it enables you to quake in the very marrow157 of consciousness.
After this it is well to turn southward along the Coast Range, camping by the trout-abounding rivers, losing yourself in the stiff laurels158 and azaleas of Mendocino, fishing at the clear lakes cupped in the hollows. If the season is right there will be salmon159 running in Klamath and Trinity rivers or deer in the steep-sided cañons. [144] And everywhere there will be the redwoods. It is not, however, in the crowds that the tree reveals itself. Far down the deforested hills of Sonoma, in isolated160 groves, in small groups or singles on the tops of bossy161, brass-coloured hills, it takes on character and charm.
A redwood grove is a three-story affair. On the ground floor, turned rusty brown, as though the sunlight filtering through had mellowed162 there a thousand years, creep the wild ginger163, the rosy-flowered oxalis, trilliums, and violets. All these lower rooms are crowded with dogwood, with the great berried manzanitas, woodwardias, man-high, and glistening bays, silver-tipped with light. By one of those strange but charming affinities164 of wild life, the redwood grove is the peculiar165 haunt of lilies. Every variation of the soil—the peat bogs166 of the coast, the high sandy ridges167, the damp meadows—has each its appropriate variety; and not merely lilies, but droves of them, hundreds of swaying stems, files of them up the line of seeping168 springs or round the bases of great boulders169, lilies breast high, lilies overhead, ruby-spotted, golden-throated, shining white, dowered with the special genius of perfume. Along the chaparral-covered slope and deep within the cañons one tracks [145] them by the subtle, intoxicating170 scent14 spreading, as I am persuaded no other perfume does, by a conscious distillation171 on the melting air.
The second redwood story, that wondrous172 space of blue-diffusing sun, between the deciduous underforest and the fairy web of redwood green, is bird and squirrel haunted. Jays flash back and forth173, bright flickers174 of the humming-bird go buzzing by. Woodpeckers may be heard calling the ever-missing "Jacob, Jacob!" who must in their opinion be concealing175 himself somewhere about the upper story. The wire-drawn warble of the brown creeper follows the singer up and down the deeply corrugated176 trunks. Wrens177, sparrows, juncos, all manner of little feathered folk in whose coats the tones of brown predominate, frequent the pillared middle rooms. Once I heard what I thought to be a hermit178 thrush, singing out of the dusk of Muir Wood. But I have not the art of knowing birds by note. People who live much in the redwoods find them silent; I think it might more easily be that the great trunks and green-shot glooms have the same quality of dwarfing sound as size. Redwoods, as I know them, are really lighter179 and more alive than any other coniferous forests, but the effect of umbrageous180 stillness is induced by vast proportions. [146]
As for what goes on in the upper rooms, who has been there? What birds arise to their three- or four-hundred-foot heights? The few and slight boughs181, the feathery layers of foliage rounding in age to sloping crowns, who knows them but the wind and the snows that neither stir nor are stayed by them? There are some matters that the great Twin Valleys keep even from the men for whom they have borne an empire.
该作者的其它作品
《The Land of Little Rain少雨的土地》
《The Basket Woman筐妇》
该作者的其它作品
《The Land of Little Rain少雨的土地》
《The Basket Woman筐妇》
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1
geographical
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| adj.地理的；地区(性)的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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confluence
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| n.汇合，聚集 | |
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stippled
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| v.加点、绘斑，加粒( stipple的过去式和过去分词 )；（把油漆、水泥等的表面）弄粗糙 | |
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tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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8
irrigated
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| [医]冲洗的 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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10
relegated
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| v.使降级( relegate的过去式和过去分词 )；使降职；转移；把…归类 | |
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11
raisin
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| n.葡萄干 | |
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overlapping
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| adj./n.交迭（的） | |
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bluffs
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| 恐吓( bluff的名词复数 )； 悬崖； 峭壁 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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prevailing
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| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
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idols
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| 偶像( idol的名词复数 )； 受崇拜的人或物； 受到热爱和崇拜的人或物； 神像 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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cultivation
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| n.耕作，培养，栽培（法），养成 | |
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sloughs
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| n.沼泽( slough的名词复数 )；苦难的深渊；难以改变的不良心情；斯劳(Slough)v.使蜕下或脱落( slough的第三人称单数 )；舍弃；除掉；摒弃 | |
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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elk
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| n.麋鹿 | |
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ramped
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| 土堤斜坡( ramp的过去式和过去分词 )； 斜道； 斜路； （装车或上下飞机的）活动梯 | |
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haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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pelicans
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| n.鹈鹕( pelican的名词复数 ) | |
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annually
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| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
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dangly
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| 悬摆的，摆晃的 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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mazed
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| 迷惘的，困惑的 | |
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malaria
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| n.疟疾 | |
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virulence
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| n.毒力，毒性；病毒性；致病力 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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beleaguered
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| adj.受到围困[围攻]的；包围的v.围攻( beleaguer的过去式和过去分词)；困扰；骚扰 | |
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39
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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40
marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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41
opulence
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| n.财富，富裕 | |
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42
precipitated
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| v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
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43
herds
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| 兽群( herd的名词复数 )； 牧群； 人群； 群众 | |
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44
ranches
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| 大农场， （兼种果树，养鸡等的）大牧场( ranch的名词复数 ) | |
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45
figs
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| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
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46
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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47
guttered
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| vt.形成沟或槽于…（gutter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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48
devastation
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| n.毁坏；荒废；极度震惊或悲伤 | |
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49
hordes
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| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
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50
alluvial
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| adj.冲积的；淤积的 | |
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51
hieroglyphic
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| n.象形文字 | |
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52
buckled
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| a. 有带扣的 | |
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53
rout
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| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
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54
orchardist
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| 果树栽培者，果园主； 果农 | |
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55
geographically
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| adv.地理学上，在地理上，地理方面 | |
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56
sequoia
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| n.红杉 | |
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57
constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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58
weirs
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| n.堰，鱼梁（指拦截游鱼的枝条篱）( weir的名词复数 ) | |
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59
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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60
antelope
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| n.羚羊；羚羊皮 | |
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61
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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62
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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63
superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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64
petroleum
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| n.原油，石油 | |
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65
prehistoric
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| adj.（有记载的）历史以前的，史前的，古老的 | |
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66
stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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67
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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68
gargantuan
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| adj.巨大的，庞大的 | |
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69
wafts
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| n.空中飘来的气味，一阵气味( waft的名词复数 )；摇转风扇v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的第三人称单数 ) | |
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70
envelop
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| vt.包，封，遮盖；包围 | |
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71
distils
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| v.蒸馏( distil的第三人称单数 )；从…提取精华 | |
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72
quiescent
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| adj.静止的，不活动的，寂静的 | |
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73
velvety
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| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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74
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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75
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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76
miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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77
delta
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| n.（流的）角洲 | |
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78
shearing
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| n.剪羊毛，剪取的羊毛v.剪羊毛( shear的现在分词 )；切断；剪切 | |
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79
riotously
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| adv.骚动地，暴乱地 | |
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80
riotous
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| adj.骚乱的；狂欢的 | |
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81
rife
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| adj.(指坏事情)充斥的，流行的，普遍的 | |
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82
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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83
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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84
raisins
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| n.葡萄干( raisin的名词复数 ) | |
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85
prunes
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| n.西梅脯，西梅干( prune的名词复数 )v.修剪（树木等）( prune的第三人称单数 )；精简某事物，除去某事物多余的部分 | |
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86
barley
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| n.大麦，大麦粒 | |
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87
transact
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| v.处理；做交易；谈判 | |
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88
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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89
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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90
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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91
vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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92
sluiced
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| v.冲洗( sluice的过去式和过去分词 )；（指水）喷涌而出；漂净；给…安装水闸 | |
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93
intermittent
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| adj.间歇的，断断续续的 | |
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94
spasms
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| n.痉挛( spasm的名词复数 )；抽搐；（能量、行为等的）突发；发作 | |
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95
jabbering
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| v.急切而含混不清地说( jabber的现在分词 )；急促兴奋地说话；结结巴巴 | |
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96
iniquities
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| n.邪恶( iniquity的名词复数 )；极不公正 | |
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97
influx
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| n.流入，注入 | |
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98
renown
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| n.声誉，名望 | |
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99
hover
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| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
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100
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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101
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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102
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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103
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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104
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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105
truthful
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| adj.真实的，说实话的，诚实的 | |
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106
sifted
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| v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
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107
clogged
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| （使）阻碍( clog的过去式和过去分词 )； 淤滞 | |
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108
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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109
sluices
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| n.水闸( sluice的名词复数 )；（用水闸控制的）水；有闸人工水道；漂洗处v.冲洗( sluice的第三人称单数 )；（指水）喷涌而出；漂净；给…安装水闸 | |
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110
violation
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| n.违反(行为)，违背(行为)，侵犯 | |
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111
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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112
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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113
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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114
lode
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| n.矿脉 | |
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115
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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116
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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117
desuetude
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| n.废止，不用 | |
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118
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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119
dismantled
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| 拆开( dismantle的过去式和过去分词 )； 拆卸； 废除； 取消 | |
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120
walnut
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| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
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121
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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122
orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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123
lessens
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| 变少( lessen的第三人称单数 )； 减少（某事物） | |
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124
plantations
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| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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125
emigrant
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| adj.移居的，移民的；n.移居外国的人，移民 | |
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126
indicator
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| n.指标；指示物，指示者；指示器 | |
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127
estuary
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| n.河口，江口 | |
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128
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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129
tributaries
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| n. 支流 | |
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130
quartz
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| n.石英 | |
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131
adders
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| n.加法器，（欧洲产）蝰蛇（小毒蛇），（北美产无毒的）猪鼻蛇( adder的名词复数 ) | |
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132
alpine
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| adj.高山的；n.高山植物 | |
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133
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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134
shears
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| n.大剪刀 | |
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135
glutting
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| v.吃得过多( glut的现在分词 )；（对胃口、欲望等）纵情满足；使厌腻；塞满 | |
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136
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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137
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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138
wastefully
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| 浪费地，挥霍地，耗费地 | |
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139
forestry
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| n.森林学；林业 | |
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140
serried
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| adj.拥挤的；密集的 | |
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141
deciduous
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| adj.非永久的；短暂的；脱落的；落叶的 | |
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142
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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143
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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144
dwarfing
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| n.矮化病 | |
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145
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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146
dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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147
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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148
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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149
crater
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| n.火山口，弹坑 | |
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150
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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151
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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152
sapphire
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| n.青玉，蓝宝石；adj.天蓝色的 | |
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153
abutting
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| adj.邻接的v.（与…）邻接( abut的现在分词 )；（与…）毗连；接触；倚靠 | |
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154
grizzly
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| adj.略为灰色的，呈灰色的；n.灰色大熊 | |
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155
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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156
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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157
marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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158
laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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159
salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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160
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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161
bossy
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| adj.爱发号施令的，作威作福的 | |
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162
mellowed
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| （使）成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
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163
ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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164
affinities
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| n.密切关系( affinity的名词复数 )；亲近；（生性）喜爱；类同 | |
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165
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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166
bogs
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| n.沼泽，泥塘( bog的名词复数 )；厕所v.（使）陷入泥沼， （使）陷入困境( bog的第三人称单数 )；妨碍，阻碍 | |
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167
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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168
seeping
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| v.（液体）渗( seep的现在分词 )；渗透；渗出；漏出 | |
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169
boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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170
intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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171
distillation
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| n.蒸馏，蒸馏法 | |
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172
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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173
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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174
flickers
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| 电影制片业； （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的名词复数 ) | |
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175
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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176
corrugated
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| adj.波纹的；缩成皱纹的；波纹面的；波纹状的v.（使某物）起皱褶(corrugate的过去式和过去分词) | |
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177
wrens
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| n.鹪鹩( wren的名词复数 ) | |
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178
hermit
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| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
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179
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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180
umbrageous
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| adj.多荫的 | |
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181
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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