True, he ranged widely about the neighbourhood, finding no other food he could capture. But always, until it was gone, he returned to the slain6 pig. Yet he was not happy in his freedom. He was too domesticated7, too civilized8. Too many thousands of years had elapsed since his ancestors had run freely wild. He was lonely. He could not get along without man. Too long had he, and the generations before him, lived in intimate relationship with the two-legged gods. Too long had his kind loved man, served him for love, endured for love, died for love, and, in return, been partly appreciated, less understood, and roughly loved.
So great was Jerry’s loneliness that even a two-legged black-god was desirable, since white-gods had long since faded into the limbo9 of the past. For all he might have known, had he been capable of conjecturing10, the only white-gods in existence had perished. Acting11 on the assumption that a black-god was better than no god, when he had quite finished the little pig, he deflected12 his course to the left, down-hill, toward the sea. He did this, again without reasoning, merely because, in the subtle processes of his brain, experience worked. His experience had been to live always close by the sea; humans he had always encountered close by the sea; and down-hill had invariably led to the sea.
He came out upon the shore of the reef-sheltered lagoon14 where ruined grass houses told him men had lived. The jungle ran riot through the place. Six-inch trees, throated with rotten remnants of thatched roofs through which they had aspired15 toward the sun, rose about him. Quick-growing trees had shadowed the kingposts so that the idols16 and totems, seated in carved shark jaws17, grinned greenly and monstrously18 at the futility19 of man through a rime20 of moss21 and mottled fungus22. A poor little sea-wall, never much at its best, sprawled23 in ruin from the coconut24 roots to the placid25 sea. Bananas, plantains, and breadfruit lay rotting on the ground. Bones lay about, human bones, and Jerry nosed them out, knowing them for what they were, emblems26 of the nothingness of life. Skulls27 he did not encounter, for the skulls that belonged to the scattered28 bones ornamented29 the devil devil houses in the upland bush villages.
The salt tang of the sea gladdened his nostrils31, and he snorted with the pleasure of the stench of the mangrove32 swamp. But, another Crusoe chancing upon the footprint of another man Friday, his nose, not his eyes, shocked him electrically alert as he smelled the fresh contact of a living man’s foot with the ground. It was a nigger’s foot, but it was alive, it was immediate33; and, as he traced it a score of yards, he came upon another foot-scent34, indubitably a white man’s.
Had there been an onlooker35, he would have thought Jerry had gone suddenly mad. He rushed frantically36 about, turning and twisting his course, now his nose to the ground, now up in the air, whining37 as frantically as he rushed, leaping abruptly38 at right angles as new scents39 reached him, scurrying40 here and there and everywhere as if in a game of tag with some invisible playfellow.
But he was reading the full report which many men had written on the ground. A white man had been there, he learned, and a number of blacks. Here a black had climbed a coconut tree and cast down the nuts. There a banana tree had been despoiled41 of its clustered fruit; and, beyond, it was evident that a similar event had happened to a breadfruit tree. One thing, however, puzzled him—a scent new to him that was neither black man’s nor white man’s. Had he had the necessary knowledge and the wit of eye-observance, he would have noted42 that the footprint was smaller than a man’s and that the toeprints were different from a Mary’s in that they were close together and did not press deeply into the earth. What bothered him in his smelling was his ignorance of talcum powder. Pungent43 it was in his nostrils, but never, since first he had smelled out the footprints of man, had he encountered such a scent. And with this were combined other and fainter scents that were equally strange to him.
Not long did he interest himself in such mystery. A white man’s footprints he had smelled, and through the maze44 of all the other prints he followed the one print down through a breach45 of sea-wall to the sea-pounded coral sand lapped by the sea. Here the latest freshness of many feet drew together where the nose of a boat had rested on the beach and where men had disembarked and embarked46 again. He smelled up all the story, and, his forelegs in the water till it touched his shoulders, he gazed out across the lagoon where the disappearing trail was lost to his nose.
Had he been half an hour sooner he would have seen a boat, without oars47, gasoline-propelled, shooting across the quiet water. What he did see was an Arangi. True, it was far larger than the Arangi he had known, but it was white, it was long, it had masts, and it floated on the surface of the sea. It had three masts, sky-lofty and all of a size; but his observation was not trained to note the difference between them and the one long and the one short mast of the Arangi. The one floating world he had known was the white-painted Arangi. And, since, without a quiver of doubt, this was the Arangi, then, on board, would be his beloved Skipper. If Arangis could resurrect, then could Skippers resurrect, and in utter faith that the head of nothingness he had last seen on Bashti’s knees he would find again rejoined to its body and its two legs on the deck of the white-painted floating world, he waded48 out to his depth, and, swimming dared the sea.
He greatly dared, for in venturing the water he broke one of the greatest and earliest taboos49 he had learned. In his vocabulary was no word for “crocodile”; yet in his thought, as potent51 as any utterable word, was an image of dreadful import—an image of a log awash that was not a log and that was alive, that could swim upon the surface, under the surface, and haul out across the dry land, that was huge-toothed, mighty-mawed, and certain death to a swimming dog.
But he continued the breaking of the taboo50 without fear. Unlike a man who can be simultaneously52 conscious of two states of mind, and who, swimming, would have known both the fear and the high courage with which he overrode53 the fear, Jerry, as he swam, knew only one state of mind, which was that he was swimming to the Arangi and to Skipper. At the moment preceding the first stroke of his paws in the water out of his depth, he had known all the terribleness of the taboo he deliberately54 broke. But, launched out, the decision made, the line of least resistance taken, he knew, single-thoughted, single-hearted, only that he was going to Skipper.
Little practised as he was in swimming, he swam with all his strength, whimpering in a sort of chant his eager love for Skipper who indubitably must be aboard the white yacht half a mile away. His little song of love, fraught55 with keenness of anxiety, came to the ears of a man and woman lounging in deck-chairs under the awning56; and it was the quick-eyed woman who first saw the golden head of Jerry and cried out what she saw.
“Lower a boat, Husband-Man,” she commanded. “It’s a little dog. He mustn’t drown.”
“Dogs don’t drown that easily,” was “Husband-Man’s” reply. “He’ll make it all right. But what under the sun a dog’s doing out here . . . ” He lifted his marine57 glasses to his eyes and stared a moment. “And a white man’s dog at that!”
Jerry beat the water with his paws and moved steadily58 along, straining his eyes at the growing yacht until suddenly warned by a sensing of immediate danger. The taboo smote59 him. This that moved toward him was the log awash that was not a log but a live thing of peril60. Part of it he saw above the surface moving sluggishly61, and ere that projecting part sank, he had an awareness62 that somehow it was different from a log awash.
Next, something brushed past him, and he encountered it with a snarl63 and a splashing of his forepaws. He was half-whirled about in the vortex of the thing’s passage caused by the alarmed flirt64 of its tail. Shark it was, and not crocodile, and not so timidly would it have sheered clear but for the fact that it was fairly full with a recent feed of a huge sea turtle too feeble with age to escape.
Although he could not see it, Jerry sensed that the thing, the instrument of nothingness, lurked65 about him. Nor did he see the dorsal66 fin5 break surface and approach him from the rear. From the yacht he heard rifle-shots in quick succession. From the rear a panic splash came to his ears. That was all. The peril passed and was forgotten. Nor did he connect the rifle-shots with the passing of the peril. He did not know, and he was never to know, that one, known to men as Harley Kennan, but known as “Husband-Man” by the woman he called “Wife-Woman,” who owned the three-topmast schooner67 yacht Ariel, had saved his life by sending a thirty-thirty Marlin bullet through the base of a shark’s fin.
But Jerry was to know Harley Kennan, and quickly, for it was Harley Kennan, a bowline around his body under his arm-pits, lowered by a couple of seamen68 down the generous freeboard of the Ariel, who gathered in by the nape of the neck the smooth-coated Irish terrier that, treading water perpendicularly69, had no eyes for him so eagerly did he gaze at the line of faces along the rail in quest of the one face.
No pause for thanks did he make when he was dropped down upon the deck. Instead, shaking himself instinctively70 as he ran, he scurried71 along the deck for Skipper. The man and his wife laughed at the spectacle.
“He acts as if he were demented with delight at being rescued,” Mrs. Kennan observed.
And Mr. Kennan: “It’s not that. He must have a screw loose somewhere. Perhaps he’s one of those creatures who’ve slipped the ratchet off the motion cog. Maybe he can’t stop running till he runs down.”
In the meantime Jerry continued to run, up port side and down starboard side, from stern to bow and back again, wagging his stump72 tail and laughing friendliness73 to the many two-legged gods he encountered. Had he been able to think to such abstraction he would have been astounded74 at the number of white-gods. Thirty there were at least of them, not counting other gods that were neither black nor white, but that still, two-legged, upright and garmented, were beyond all peradventure gods. Likewise, had he been capable of such generalization75, he would have decided76 that the white-gods had not yet all of them passed into the nothingness. As it was, he realized all this without being aware that he realized it.
But there was no Skipper. He sniffed78 down the forecastle hatch, sniffed into the galley79 where two Chinese cooks jabbered80 unintelligibly81 to him, sniffed down the cabin companionway, sniffed down the engine-room skylight and for the first time knew gasoline and engine oil; but sniff77 as he would, wherever he ran, no scent did he catch of Skipper.
Aft, at the wheel, he would have sat down and howled his heartbreak of disappointment, had not a white-god, evidently of command, in gold-decorated white duck cap and uniform, spoken to him. Instantly, always a gentleman, Jerry smiled with flattened83 ears of courtesy, wagged his tail, and approached. The hand of this high god had almost caressed86 his head when the woman’s voice came down the deck in speech that Jerry did not understand. The words and terms of it were beyond him. But he sensed power of command in it, which was verified by the quick withdrawal87 of the hand of the god in white and gold who had almost caressed him. This god, stiffened88 electrically and pointed89 Jerry along the deck, and, with mouth encouragements and urgings the import of which Jerry could only guess, directed him toward the one who so commanded by saying:
“Send him, please, along to me, Captain Winters.”
Jerry wriggled90 his body in delight of obeying, and would loyally have presented his head to her outreaching caress85 of hand, had not the strangeness and difference of her deterred him. He broke off in mid-approach and with a show of teeth snarled91 himself back and away from the windblown skirt of her. The only human females he had known were naked Marys. This skirt, flapping in the wind like a sail, reminded him of the menacing mainsail of the Arangi when it had jarred and crashed and swooped92 above his head. The noises her mouth made were gentle and ingratiating, but the fearsome skirt still flapped in the breeze.
“You ridiculous dog!” she laughed. “I’m not going to bite you.”
But her husband thrust out a rough, sure hand and drew Jerry in to him. And Jerry wriggled in ecstasy93 under the god’s caress, kissing the hand with a red flicker94 of tongue. Next, Harley Kennan directed him toward the woman sitting up in the deck-chair and bending forward, with hovering95 hands of greeting. Jerry obeyed. He advanced with flattened ears and laughing mouth: but, just ere she could touch him, the wind fluttered the skirt again and he backed away with a snarl.
“It’s not you that he’s afraid of, Villa30,” he said. “But of your skirt. Perhaps he’s never seen a skirt before.”
“You mean,” Villa Kennan challenged, “that these head-hunting cannibals ashore96 here keep records of pedigrees and maintain kennels97; for surely this absurd adventurer of a dog is as proper an Irish terrier as the Ariel is an Oregon-pine-planked schooner.”
Harley Kennan laughed in acknowledgment. Villa Kennan laughed too; and Jerry knew that these were a pair of happy gods, and himself laughed with them.
Of his own initiative, he approached the lady god again, attracted by the talcum powder and other minor98 fragrances99 he had already identified as the strange scents encountered on the beach. But the unfortunate trade wind again fluttered her skirt, and again he backed away—not so far, this time, with much less of a bristle100 of his neck and shoulder hair, and with no more of a snarl than a mere13 half-baring of his fangs101.
“He’s afraid of your skirt,” Harley insisted. “Look at him! He wants to come to you, but the skirt keeps him away. Tuck it under you so that it won’t flutter, and see what happens.”
Villa Kennan carried out the suggestion, and Jerry came circumspectly102, bent103 his head to her hand and writhed104 his back under it, the while he sniffed her feet, stocking-clad and shoe-covered, and knew them as the feet which had trod uncovered the ruined ways of the village ashore.
“No doubt of it,” Harley agreed. “He’s white-man selected, white-man bred and born. He has a history. He knows adventure from the ground-roots up. If he could tell his story, we’d sit listening entranced for days. Depend on it, he’s not known blacks all his life. Let’s try him on Johnny.”
Johnny, whom Kennan beckoned105 up to him, was a loan from the Resident Commissioner106 of the British Solomons at Tulagi, who had come along as pilot and guide to Kennan rather than as philosopher and friend. Johnny approached grinning, and Jerry’s demeanour immediately changed. His body stiffened under Villa Kennan’s hand as he drew away from her and stalked stiff-legged to the black. Jerry’s ears did not flatten84, nor did he laugh fellowship with his mouth, as he inspected Johnny and smelt107 his calves108 for future reference. Cavalier he was to the extreme, and, after the briefest of inspection109, he turned back to Villa Kennan.
“What did I say?” her husband exulted110. “He knows the colour line. He’s a white man’s dog that has been trained to it.”
“My word,” spoke82 up Johnny. “Me know ’m that fella dog. Me know ’m papa and mamma belong along him. Big fella white marster Mister Haggin stop along Meringe, mamma and papa stop along him that fella place.”
Harley Kennan uttered a sharp exclamation111.
“Of course,” he cried. “The Commissioner told me all about it. The Arangi, that the Somo people captured, sailed last from Meringe Plantation112. Johnny recognizes the dog as the same breed as the pair Haggin, of Meringe, must possess. But that was a long time ago. He must have been a little puppy. Of course he’s a white man’s dog.”
“And yet you’ve overlooked the crowning proof of it,” Villa Kennan teased. “The dog carries the evidence around with him.”
Harley looked Jerry over carefully.
“Indisputable evidence,” she insisted.
“Blamed if I can see anything so indisputable as to leave conjecture114 out.”
“The tail,” his wife gurgled. “Surely the natives do not bob the tails of their dogs.—Do they, Johnny? Do black man stop along Malaita chop ’m off tail along dog.”
“No chop ’m off,” Johnny agreed. “Mister Haggin along Meringe he chop ’m off. My word, he chop ’m that fella tail, you bet.”
“Then he’s the sole survivor115 of the Arangi,” Villa Kennan concluded. “Don’t you agree, Mr. Sherlock Holmes Kennan?”
“I salute116 you, Mrs. S. Holmes,” her husband acknowledged gallantly117. “And all that remains118 is for you to lead me directly to the head of La Perouse himself. The sailing directions record that he left it somewhere in these islands.”
Little did they guess that Jerry had lived on intimate terms with one Bashti, not many miles away along the shore, who, in Somo, at that very moment, sat in his grass house pondering over a head on his withered119 knees that had once been the head of the great navigator, the history of which had been forgotten by the sons of the chief who had taken it.
该作者的其它作品
《The Sea-Wolf海狼》
《白牙 White Fang》
《The Iron Heel 铁蹄》
该作者的其它作品
《The Sea-Wolf海狼》
《白牙 White Fang》
《The Iron Heel 铁蹄》
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1 deterred | |
v.阻止,制止( deter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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2 penetrating | |
adj.(声音)响亮的,尖锐的adj.(气味)刺激的adj.(思想)敏锐的,有洞察力的 | |
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3 lone | |
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4 devoured | |
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5 fin | |
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6 slain | |
杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的过去分词 ); (slay的过去分词) | |
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7 domesticated | |
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8 civilized | |
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9 limbo | |
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10 conjecturing | |
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12 deflected | |
偏离的 | |
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13 mere | |
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14 lagoon | |
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15 aspired | |
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16 idols | |
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17 jaws | |
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18 monstrously | |
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19 futility | |
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20 rime | |
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21 moss | |
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22 fungus | |
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23 sprawled | |
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24 coconut | |
n.椰子 | |
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25 placid | |
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26 emblems | |
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27 skulls | |
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28 scattered | |
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29 ornamented | |
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30 villa | |
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31 nostrils | |
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32 mangrove | |
n.(植物)红树,红树林 | |
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33 immediate | |
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34 scent | |
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35 onlooker | |
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36 frantically | |
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37 whining | |
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38 abruptly | |
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39 scents | |
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40 scurrying | |
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41 despoiled | |
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44 maze | |
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48 waded | |
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49 taboos | |
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56 awning | |
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59 smote | |
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61 sluggishly | |
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62 awareness | |
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63 snarl | |
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64 flirt | |
v.调情,挑逗,调戏;n.调情者,卖俏者 | |
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65 lurked | |
vi.潜伏,埋伏(lurk的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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66 dorsal | |
adj.背部的,背脊的 | |
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67 schooner | |
n.纵帆船 | |
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68 seamen | |
n.海员 | |
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69 perpendicularly | |
adv. 垂直地, 笔直地, 纵向地 | |
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70 instinctively | |
adv.本能地 | |
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71 scurried | |
v.急匆匆地走( scurry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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72 stump | |
n.残株,烟蒂,讲演台;v.砍断,蹒跚而走 | |
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73 friendliness | |
n.友谊,亲切,亲密 | |
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75 generalization | |
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76 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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77 sniff | |
vi.嗅…味道;抽鼻涕;对嗤之以鼻,蔑视 | |
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78 sniffed | |
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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79 galley | |
n.(飞机或船上的)厨房单层甲板大帆船;军舰舰长用的大划艇; | |
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80 jabbered | |
v.急切而含混不清地说( jabber的过去式和过去分词 );急促兴奋地说话 | |
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81 unintelligibly | |
难以理解地 | |
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82 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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83 flattened | |
[医](水)平扁的,弄平的 | |
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84 flatten | |
v.把...弄平,使倒伏;使(漆等)失去光泽 | |
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85 caress | |
vt./n.爱抚,抚摸 | |
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86 caressed | |
爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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87 withdrawal | |
n.取回,提款;撤退,撤军;收回,撤销 | |
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88 stiffened | |
加强的 | |
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89 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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90 wriggled | |
v.扭动,蠕动,蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 );(使身体某一部位)扭动;耍滑不做,逃避(应做的事等) | |
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91 snarled | |
v.(指狗)吠,嗥叫, (人)咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 );咆哮着说,厉声地说 | |
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92 swooped | |
俯冲,猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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93 ecstasy | |
n.狂喜,心醉神怡,入迷 | |
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94 flicker | |
vi./n.闪烁,摇曳,闪现 | |
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95 hovering | |
鸟( hover的现在分词 ); 靠近(某事物); (人)徘徊; 犹豫 | |
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96 ashore | |
adv.在(向)岸上,上岸 | |
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97 kennels | |
n.主人外出时的小动物寄养处,养狗场;狗窝( kennel的名词复数 );养狗场 | |
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98 minor | |
adj.较小(少)的,较次要的;n.辅修学科;vi.辅修 | |
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99 fragrances | |
n.芳香,香味( fragrance的名词复数 );香水 | |
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100 bristle | |
v.(毛发)直立,气势汹汹,发怒;n.硬毛发 | |
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101 fangs | |
n.(尤指狗和狼的)长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 );(蛇的)毒牙;罐座 | |
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102 circumspectly | |
adv.慎重地,留心地 | |
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103 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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104 writhed | |
(因极度痛苦而)扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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105 beckoned | |
v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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106 commissioner | |
n.(政府厅、局、处等部门)专员,长官,委员 | |
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107 smelt | |
v.熔解,熔炼;n.银白鱼,胡瓜鱼 | |
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108 calves | |
n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子,腓;腿肚子( calf的名词复数 );牛犊;腓;小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 );(冰川)崩解;生(小牛等),产(犊);使(冰川)崩解 | |
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109 inspection | |
n.检查,审查,检阅 | |
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110 exulted | |
狂喜,欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111 exclamation | |
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
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112 plantation | |
n.种植园,大农场 | |
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113 scrutiny | |
n.详细检查,仔细观察 | |
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114 conjecture | |
n./v.推测,猜测 | |
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115 survivor | |
n.生存者,残存者,幸存者 | |
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116 salute | |
vi.行礼,致意,问候,放礼炮;vt.向…致意,迎接,赞扬;n.招呼,敬礼,礼炮 | |
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117 gallantly | |
adv. 漂亮地,勇敢地,献殷勤地 | |
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118 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
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119 withered | |
adj. 枯萎的,干瘪的,(人身体的部分器官)因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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