About the year 1727, just at the time when earthquakes were prevalent in New England, and shook many tall sinners down upon their knees, there lived near this place a meagre miserly fellow of the name of Tom Walker. He had a wife as miserly as himself; they were so miserly that they even conspired11 to cheat each other. Whatever the woman could lay hands on she hid away; a hen could not cackle but she was on the alert to secure the new-laid egg. Her husband was continually prying12 about to detect her secret hoards13, and many and fierce were the conflicts that took place about what ought to have been common property. They lived in a forlorn-looking house, that stood alone and had an air of starvation. A few straggling savin trees, emblems14 of sterility15, grew near it; no smoke ever curled from its chimney; no traveller stopped at its door. A miserable16 horse, whose ribs17 were as articulate as the bars of a gridiron, stalked about a field where a thin carpet of moss18, scarcely covering the ragged19 beds of pudding-stone, tantalized20 and balked21 his hunger; and sometimes he would lean his head over the fence, looked piteously at the passer-by, and seem to petition deliverance from this land of famine.
The house and its inmates22 had altogether a bad name. Tom’s wife was a tall termagant, fierce of temper, loud of tongue, and strong of arm. Her voice was often heard in wordy warfare23 with her husband; and his face sometimes showed signs that their conflicts were not confined to words. No one ventured, however, to interfere24 between them; the lonely wayfarer25 shrunk within himself at the horrid26 clamor and clapper-clawing; eyed the den27 of discord28 askance, and hurried on his way, rejoicing, if a bachelor, in his celibacy29.
One day that Tom Walker had been to a distant part of the neighborhood, he took what he considered a short cut homewards through the swamp. Like most short cuts, it was an ill-chosen route. The swamp was thickly grown with great gloomy pines and hemlocks30, some of them ninety feet high; which made it dark at noon-day, and a retreat for all the owls32 of the neighborhood. It was full of pits and quagmires34, partly covered with weeds and mosses36; where the green surface often betrayed the traveller into a gulf37 of black smothering38 mud; there were also dark and stagnant39 pools, the abodes40 of the tadpole41, the bull-frog, and the water-snake, and where trunks of pines and hemlocks lay half drowned, half rotting, looking like alligators42, sleeping in the mire35.
Tom had long been picking his way cautiously through this treacherous43 forest; stepping from tuft to tuft of rushes and roots which afforded precarious44 footholds among deep sloughs46; or pacing carefully, like a cat, among the prostrate47 trunks of trees; startled now and then by the sudden screaming of the bittern, or the quacking48 of a wild duck, rising on the wing from some solitary49 pool. At length he arrived at a piece of firm ground, which ran out like a peninsula into the deep bosom50 of the swamp. It had been one of the strongholds of the Indians during their wars with the first colonists51. Here they had thrown up a kind of fort which they had looked upon as almost impregnable, and had used as a place of refuge for their squaws and children. Nothing remained of the Indian fort but a few embankments gradually sinking to the level of the surrounding earth, and already overgrown in part by oaks and other forest trees, the foliage52 of which formed a contrast to the dark pines and hemlocks of the swamp.
It was late in the dusk of evening that Tom Walker reached the old fort, and he paused there for a while to rest himself. Any one but he would have felt unwilling53 to linger in this lonely, melancholy54 place, for the common people had a bad opinion of it from the stories handed down from the time of the Indian wars; when it was asserted that the savages55 held incantations here and made sacrifices to the evil spirit. Tom Walker, however, was not a man to be troubled with any fears of the kind.
He reposed56 himself for some time on the trunk of a fallen hemlock31, listening to the boding57 cry of the tree-toad, and delving58 with his walking-staff into a mound59 of black mould at his feet. As he turned up the soil unconsciously, his staff struck against something hard. He raked it out of the vegetable mould, and lo! a cloven skull60 with an Indian tomahawk buried deep in it, lay before him. The rust61 on the weapon showed the time that had elapsed since this death blow had been given. It was a dreary62 memento63 of the fierce struggle that had taken place in this last foothold of the Indian warriors64.
“Humph!” said Tom Walker, as he gave the skull a kick to shake the dirt from it.
“Let that skull alone!” said a gruff voice.
Tom lifted up his eyes and beheld65 a great black man, seated directly Opposite him on the stump66 of a tree. He was exceedingly surprised, having neither seen nor heard any one approach, and he was still more perplexed67 on observing, as well as the gathering68 gloom would permit, that the stranger was neither negro nor Indian. It is true, he was dressed in a rude, half Indian garb69, and had a red belt or sash swathed round his body, but his face was neither black nor copper70 color, but swarthy and dingy71 and begrimed with soot72, as if he had been accustomed to toil73 among fires and forges. He had a shock of coarse black hair, that stood out from his head in all directions; and bore an axe74 on his shoulder.
“Your grounds?” said Tom, with a sneer79; “no more your grounds than mine: they belong to Deacon Peabody.”
“Deacon Peabody be d——d,” said the stranger, “as I flatter myself he will be, if he does not look more to his own sins and less to his neighbor’s. Look yonder, and see how Deacon Peabody is faring.”
Tom looked in the direction that the stranger pointed80, and beheld one of the great trees, fair and flourishing without, but rotten at the core, and saw that it had been nearly hewn through, so that the first high wind was likely to blow it down. On the bark of the tree was scored the name of Deacon Peabody. He now looked round and found most of the tall trees marked with the names of some great men of the colony, and all more or less scored by the axe. The one on which he had been seated, and which had evidently just been hewn down, bore the name of Crowninshield; and he recollected82 a mighty83 rich man of that name, who made a vulgar display of wealth, which it was whispered he had acquired by buccaneering.
“He’s just ready for burning!” said the black man, with a growl77 of triumph. “You see I am likely to have a good stock of firewood for winter.”
“But what right have you,” said Tom, “to cut down Deacon Peabody’s timber?”
“The right of prior claim,” said the other. “This woodland belonged to me long before one of your white-faced race put foot upon the soil.”
“And pray, who are you, if I may be so bold?” said Tom.
“Oh, I go by various names. I am the Wild Huntsman in some countries; the Black Miner in others. In this neighborhood I am known by the name of the Black Woodsman. I am he to whom the red men devoted84 this spot, and now and then roasted a white man by way of sweet-smelling sacrifice. Since the red men have been exterminated85 by you white savages, I amuse myself by presiding at the persecutions of quakers and anabaptists; I am the great patron and prompter of slave dealers88, and the grand master of the Salem witches.”
“The upshot of all which is, that, if I mistake not,” said Tom, sturdily, “you are he commonly called Old Scratch.”
“The same at your service!” replied the black man, with a half civil nod.
Such was the opening of this interview, according to the old story, though it has almost too familiar an air to be credited. One would think that to meet with such a singular personage in this wild, lonely place, would have shaken any man’s nerves; but Tom was a hard-minded fellow, not easily daunted89, and he had lived so long with a termagant wife, that he did not even fear the devil.
It is said that after this commencement they had a long and earnest Conversation together, as Tom returned homewards. The black man told him of great sums of money which had been buried by Kidd the pirate, under the oak trees on the high ridge not far from the morass. All these were under his command and protected by his power, so that none could find them but such as propitiated90 his favor. These he offered to place within Tom Walker’s reach, having conceived an especial kindness for him: but they were to be had only on certain conditions. What these conditions were, may easily be surmised91, though Tom never disclosed them publicly. They must have been very hard, for he required time to think of them, and he was not a man to stick at trifles where money was in view. When they had reached the edge of the swamp the stranger paused.
“What proof have I that all you have been telling me is true?” said Tom.
“There is my signature,” said the black man, pressing his finger on Tom’s forehead. So saying, he turned off among the thickets92 of the swamp, and seemed, as Tom said, to go down, down, down, into the earth, until nothing but his head and shoulders could be seen, and so on until he totally disappeared.
When Tom reached home he found the black print of a finger burnt, as it were, into his forehead, which nothing could obliterate93.
The first news his wife had to tell him was the sudden death of Absalom Crowninshield, the rich buccaneer. It was announced in the papers with the usual flourish, that “a great man had fallen in Israel.”
Tom recollected the tree which his black friend had just hewn down, and which was ready for burning. “Let the freebooter roast,” said Tom, “who cares!” He now felt convinced that all he had heard and seen was no illusion.
He was not prone94 to let his wife into his confidence; but as this was an uneasy secret, he willingly shared it with her. All her avarice95 was awakened96 at the mention of hidden gold, and she urged her husband to comply with the black man’s terms and secure what would make them wealthy for life. However Tom might have felt disposed to sell himself to the devil, he was determined97 not to do so to oblige his wife; so he flatly refused out of the mere98 spirit of contradiction. Many and bitter were the quarrels they had on the subject, but the more she talked the more resolute99 was Tom not to be damned to please her. At length she determined to drive the bargain on her own account, and if she succeeded, to keep all the gain to herself.
Being of the same fearless temper as her husband, she sat off for the old Indian fort towards the close of a summer’s day. She was many hour’s absent. When she came back she was reserved and sullen100 in her replies. She spoke101 something of a black man whom she had met about twilight102, hewing103 at the root of a tall tree. He was sulky, however, and would not come to terms; she was to go again with a propitiatory104 offering, but what it was she forebore to say.
The next evening she sat off again for the swamp, with her apron105 heavily laden106. Tom waited and waited for her, but in vain: midnight came, but she did not make her appearance; morning, noon, night returned, but still she did not come. Tom now grew uneasy for her safety; especially as he found she had carried off in her apron the silver tea pot and spoons and every portable article of value. Another night elapsed, another morning came; but no wife. In a word, she was ever heard of more.
What was her real fate nobody knows, in consequence of so many pretending to know. It is one of those facts that have become confounded by a variety of historians. Some asserted that she lost her way among the tangled107 mazes108 of the swamp and sunk into some pit or slough45; others, more uncharitable, hinted that she had eloped with the household booty, and made off to some other province; while others assert that the tempter had decoyed her into a dismal110 quagmire33, on top of which her hat was found lying. In confirmation111 of this, it was said a great black man with an axe on his shoulder was seen late that very evening coming out of the swamp, carrying a bundle tied in a check apron, with an air of surly triumph.
The most current and probable story, however, observes that Tom Walker grew so anxious about the fate of his wife and his property that he sat out at length to seek them both at the Indian fort. During a long summer’s afternoon he searched about the gloomy place, but no wife was to be seen. He called her name repeatedly, but she was no where to be heard. The bittern alone responded to his voice, as he flew screaming by; or the bull-frog croaked112 dolefully from a neighboring pool. At length, it is said, just in the brown hour of twilight, when the owls began to hoot113 and the bats to flit about, his attention was attracted by the clamor of carrion115 crows that were hovering116 about a cypress117 tree. He looked and beheld a bundle tied in a check apron and hanging in the branches of a tree; with a great vulture perched hard by, as if keeping watch upon it. He leaped with joy, for he recognized his wife’s apron, and supposed it to contain the household valuables.
“Let us get hold of the property,” said he consolingly to himself, “and we will endeavor to do without the woman.”
As he scrambled118 up the tree the vulture spread its wide wings, and sailed off screaming into the deep shadows of the forest. Tom seized the check apron, but, woful sight! found nothing but a heart and liver tied up in it.
Such, according to the most authentic119 old story, was all that was to be found of Tom’s wife. She had probably attempted to deal with the black man as she had been accustomed to deal with her husband; but though a female scold is generally considered a match for the devil, yet in this instance she appears to have had the worst of it. She must have died game, however: from the part that remained unconquered. Indeed, it is said Tom noticed many prints of cloven feet deeply stamped about the tree, and several handfuls of hair that looked as if they had been plucked from the coarse black shock of the woodsman. Tom knew his wife’s prowess by experience. He shrugged120 his shoulders as he looked at the signs of a fierce clapper-clawing. “Egad,” said he to himself, “Old Scratch must have had a tough time of it!”
Tom consoled himself for the loss of his property by the loss of his wife; for he was a little of a philosopher. He even felt something like gratitude121 towards the black woodsman, who he considered had done him a kindness. He sought, therefore, to cultivate a farther acquaintance with him, but for some time without success; the old black legs played shy, for whatever people may think, he is not always to be had for calling for; he knows how to play his cards when pretty sure of his game.
At length, it is said, when delay had whetted122 Tom’s eagerness to the quick, and prepared him to agree to any thing rather than not gain the promised treasure, he met the black man one evening in his usual woodman dress, with his axe on his shoulder, sauntering along the edge of the swamp, and humming a tune123. He affected124 to receive Tom’s advance with great indifference125, made brief replies, and went on humming his tune.
By degrees, however, Tom brought him to business, and they began to haggle126 about the terms on which the former was to have the pirate’s treasure. There was one condition which need not be mentioned, being generally understood in all cases where the devil grants favors; but there were others about which, though of less importance, he was inflexibly127 obstinate128. He insisted that the money found through his means should be employed in his service. He proposed, therefore, that Tom should employ it in the black traffic; that is to say, that he should fit out a slave ship. This, however, Tom resolutely129 refused; he was bad enough, in all conscience; but the devil himself could not tempt109 him to turn slave dealer87.
Finding Tom so squeamish on this point, he did not insist upon it, but proposed instead that he should turn usurer; the devil being extremely anxious for the increase of usurers, looking upon them as his peculiar130 people.
To this no objections were made, for it was just to Tom’s taste.
“You shall open a broker’s shop in Boston next month,” said the black man.
“I’ll do it to-morrow, if you wish,” said Tom Walker.
“You shall lend money at two per cent a month.”
“Egad, I’ll charge four!” replied Tom Walker.
“I’ll drive him to the d—-l,” cried Tom Walker, eagerly.
“You are the usurer for my money!” said the black legs, with delight. “When will you want the rhino132?”
“This very night.”
“Done!” said the devil.
“Done!” said Tom Walker.—So they shook hands and struck a bargain.
A few days’ time saw Tom Walker seated behind his desk in a counting house in Boston. His reputation for a ready-moneyed man, who would lend money out for a good consideration, soon spread abroad. Every body remembers the days of Governor Belcher, when money was particularly scarce. It was a time of paper credit. The country had been deluged133 with government bills; the famous Land Bank had been established; there had been a rage for speculating; the people had run mad with schemes for new settlements; for building cities in the wilderness134; land jobbers135 went about with maps of grants, and townships, and Eldorados, lying nobody knew where, but which every body was ready to purchase. In a word, the great speculating fever which breaks out every now and then in the country, had raged to an alarming degree, and body was dreaming of making sudden fortunes from nothing. As usual, the fever had subsided137; the dream had gone off, and the imaginary fortunes with it; the patients were left in doleful plight138, and the whole country resounded139 with the consequent cry of “hard times.”
At this propitious140 time of public distress141 did Tom Walker set up as a usurer in Boston. His door was soon thronged142 by customers. The needy143 and the adventurous144; the gambling145 speculator; the dreaming land jobber136; the thriftless tradesman; the merchant with cracked credit; in short, every one driven to raise money by desperate means and desperate sacrifices, hurried to Tom Walker.
Thus Tom was the universal friend of the needy, and he acted like a “friend in need;” that is to say, he always exacted good pay and good security. In proportion to the distress of the applicant146 was the hardness of his terms. He accumulated bonds and mortgages; gradually squeezed his customers closer and closer; and sent them, at length, dry as a sponge from his door.
In this way he made money hand over hand; became a rich and mighty man, and exalted147 his cocked hat upon ‘change. He built himself, as usual, a vast house, out of ostentation148; but left the greater part of it unfinished and unfurnished out of parsimony149. He even set up a carriage in the fullness of his vain-glory, though he nearly starved the horses which drew it; and as the ungreased wheels groaned150 and screeched151 on the axle trees, you would have thought you heard the souls of the poor debtors152 he was squeezing.
As Tom waxed old, however, he grew thoughtful. Having secured the good things of this world, he began to feel anxious about those of the next. He thought with regret on the bargain he had made with his black friend, and set his wits to work to cheat him out of the conditions. He became, therefore, all of a sudden, a violent church-goer. He prayed loudly and strenuously153 as if heaven were to be taken by force of lungs. Indeed, one might always tell when he had sinned most during the week, by the clamor of his Sunday devotion. The quiet Christians155 who had been modestly and steadfastly156 travelling Zion-ward, were struck with self-reproach at seeing themselves so suddenly outstripped157 in their career by this new-made convert. Tom was as rigid158 in religious, as in money matters; he was a stern supervisor159 and censurer of his neighbors, and seemed to think every sin entered up to their account became a credit on his own side of the page. He even talked of the expediency160 of reviving the persecution86 of quakers and anabaptists. In a word, Tom’s zeal161 became as notorious as his riches.
Still, in spite of all this strenuous154 attention to forms, Tom had a Lurking162 dread163 that the devil, after all, would have his due. That he might not be taken unawares, therefore, it is said he always carried a small Bible in his coat pocket. He had also a great folio Bible on his counting-house desk, and would frequently be found reading it when people called on business; on such occasions he would lay his green spectacles on the book, to mark the place, while he turned round to drive some usurious bargain.
Some say that Tom grew a little crack-brained in his old days, and that fancying his end approaching, he had his horse new shod, saddled and bridled164, and buried with his feet uppermost; because he supposed that at the last day the world would be turned upside down; in which case he should find his horse standing165 ready for mounting, and he was determined at the worst to give his old friend a run for it. This, however, is probably a mere old wives’ fable166. If he really did take such a precaution it was totally superfluous167; at least so says the authentic old legend, which closes his story in the following manner:
On one hot afternoon in the dog days, just as a terrible black thunder-gust was coming up, Tom sat in his counting-house in his white linen168 cap and India silk morning-gown. He was on the point of foreclosing a mortgage, by which he would complete the ruin of an unlucky land speculator for whom he had professed169 the greatest friendship. The poor land jobber begged him to grant a few months’ indulgence. Tom had grown testy170 and irritated and refused another day.
“My family will be ruined and brought upon the parish,” said the land jobber.
“Charity begins at home,” replied Tom, “I must take care of myself in these hard times.”
“You have made so much money out of me,” said the speculator.
Tom lost his patience and his piety—“The devil take me,” said he, “if I have made a farthing!”
Just then there were three loud knocks at the street door. He stepped out to see who was there. A black man was holding a black horse which neighed and stamped with impatience171.
“Tom, you’re come for!” said the black fellow, gruffly. Tom shrunk back, but too late. He had left his little Bible at the bottom of his coat pocket, and his big Bible on the desk buried under the mortgage he was about to foreclose: never was sinner taken more unawares. The black man whisked him like a child astride the horse and away he galloped172 in the midst of a thunder-storm. The clerks stuck their pens behind their ears and stared after him from the windows. Away went Tom Walker, dashing down the street; his white cap bobbing up and down; his morning-gown fluttering in the wind, and his steed striking fire out of the pavement at every bound. When the clerks turned to look for the black man he had disappeared.
Tom Walker never returned to foreclose the mortgage. A countryman who lived on the borders of the swamp, reported that in the height of the thunder-gust he had heard a great clattering173 of hoofs174 and a howling along the road, and that when he ran to the window he just caught sight of a figure, such as I have described, on a horse that galloped like mad across the fields, over the hills and down into the black hemlock swamp towards the old Indian fort; and that shortly after a thunder-bolt fell in that direction which seemed to set the whole forest in a blaze.
The good people of Boston shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders, but had been so much accustomed to witches and goblins and tricks of the devil in all kinds of shapes from the first settlement of the colony, that they were not so much horror-struck as might have been expected. Trustees were appointed to take charge of Tom’s effects. There was nothing, however, to administer upon. On searching his coffers all his bonds and mortgages were found reduced to cinders175. In place of gold and silver, his iron chest was filled with chips and shavings; two skeletons lay in his stable instead of his half-starved horses, and the very next day his great house took fire and was burnt to the ground.
Such was the end of Tom Walker and his ill-gotten wealth. Let all griping money-brokers lay this story to heart. The truth of it is not to be doubted. The very hole under the oak trees, from whence he dug Kidd’s money, is to be seen to this day; and the neighboring swamp and old Indian fort is often haunted in stormy nights by a figure on horseback, in a morning-gown and white cap, which is doubtless the troubled spirit of the usurer. In fact, the story has resolved itself into a proverb, and is the origin of that popular saying prevalent throughout New-England, of “The Devil and Tom Walker.”
Such, as nearly as I can recollect81, was the tenor176 of the tale told by the Cape177 Cod178 whaler. There were divers179 trivial particulars which I have omitted, and which wiled180 away the morning very pleasantly, until the time of tide favorable for fishing being passed, it was proposed that we should go to land, and refresh ourselves under the trees, until the noontide heat should have abated181.
We accordingly landed on a delectable182 part of the island of Mannahatta, in that shady and embowered tract114 formerly183 under dominion184 of the ancient family of the Hardenbrooks. It was a spot well known to me in the course of the aquatic185 expeditions of my boyhood. Not far from where we landed, was an old Dutch family vault186, in the side of a bank, which had been an object of great awe187 and fable among my schoolboy associates. There were several mouldering188 coffins189 within; but what gave it a fearful interest with us, was its being connected in our minds with the pirate wreck190 which lay among the rocks of Hell Gate. There were also stories of smuggling191 connected with it, particularly during a time that this retired192 spot was owned by a noted193 burgher called Ready Money Prevost; a man of whom it was whispered that he had many and mysterious dealings with parts beyond seas. All these things, however, had been jumbled194 together in our minds in that vague way in which such things are mingled195 up in the tales of boyhood.
While I was musing196 upon these matters my companions had spread a repast, from the contents of our well-stored pannier, and we solaced197 ourselves during the warm sunny hours of mid-day under the shade of a broad chestnut198, on the cool grassy199 carpet that swept down to the water’s edge. While lolling on the grass I summoned up the dusky recollections of my boyhood respecting this place, and repeated them like the imperfectly remembered traces of a dream, for the entertainment of my companions. When I had finished, a worthy200 old burgher, John Josse Vandermoere, the same who once related to me the adventures of Dolph Heyliger, broke silence and observed, that he recollected a story about money-digging which occurred in this very neighborhood. As we knew him to be one of the most authentic narrators of the province we begged him to let us have the particulars, and accordingly, while we refreshed ourselves with a clean long pipe of Blase201 Moore’s tobacco, the authentic John Josse Vandermoere related the following tale.
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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morass
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| n.沼泽，困境 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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landmarks
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| n.陆标( landmark的名词复数 )；目标；（标志重要阶段的）里程碑 ~ (in sth)；有历史意义的建筑物（或遗址） | |
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guardianship
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conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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hoards
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| n.（钱财、食物或其他珍贵物品的）储藏，积存( hoard的名词复数 )v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的第三人称单数 ) | |
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emblems
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sterility
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| n.不生育，不结果，贫瘠，消毒，无菌 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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moss
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ragged
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tantalized
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balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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inmates
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warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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24
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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25
wayfarer
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| n.旅人 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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28
discord
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| n.不和，意见不合，争论，（音乐）不和谐 | |
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29
celibacy
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| n.独身(主义) | |
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30
hemlocks
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| 由毒芹提取的毒药( hemlock的名词复数 ) | |
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31
hemlock
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| n.毒胡萝卜，铁杉 | |
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32
owls
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| n.猫头鹰( owl的名词复数 ) | |
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33
quagmire
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| n.沼地 | |
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quagmires
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| n.沼泽地，泥潭( quagmire的名词复数 ) | |
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35
mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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36
mosses
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| n. 藓类, 苔藓植物 名词moss的复数形式 | |
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37
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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38
smothering
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的现在分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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39
stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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40
abodes
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| 住所( abode的名词复数 )； 公寓； （在某地的）暂住； 逗留 | |
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41
tadpole
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| n.[动]蝌蚪 | |
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42
alligators
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| n.短吻鳄( alligator的名词复数 ) | |
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43
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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44
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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45
slough
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| v.蜕皮，脱落，抛弃 | |
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46
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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47
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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48
quacking
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| v.（鸭子）发出嘎嘎声( quack的现在分词 ) | |
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49
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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50
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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51
colonists
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| n.殖民地开拓者，移民，殖民地居民( colonist的名词复数 ) | |
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52
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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53
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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54
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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55
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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56
reposed
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
boding
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| adj.凶兆的，先兆的n.凶兆，前兆，预感v.预示，预告，预言( bode的现在分词 )；等待，停留( bide的过去分词 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待 | |
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58
delving
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| v.深入探究，钻研( delve的现在分词 ) | |
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59
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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60
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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61
rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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62
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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63
memento
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| n.纪念品，令人回忆的东西 | |
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64
warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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65
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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66
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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67
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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68
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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69
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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70
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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71
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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72
soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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73
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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74
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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75
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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77
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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78
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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79
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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80
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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81
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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82
recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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84
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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85
exterminated
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| v.消灭，根绝( exterminate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
persecution
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| n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
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87
dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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88
dealers
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| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
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89
daunted
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| 使（某人）气馁，威吓( daunt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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90
propitiated
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| v.劝解，抚慰，使息怒( propitiate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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91
surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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92
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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93
obliterate
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| v.擦去，涂抹，去掉...痕迹，消失，除去 | |
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94
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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95
avarice
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| n.贪婪；贪心 | |
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96
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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97
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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98
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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99
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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100
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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101
spoke
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| 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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102
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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103
hewing
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| v.（用斧、刀等）砍、劈( hew的现在分词 )；砍成；劈出；开辟 | |
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104
propitiatory
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| adj.劝解的；抚慰的；谋求好感的；哄人息怒的 | |
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105
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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106
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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107
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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108
mazes
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| 迷宫( maze的名词复数 )； 纷繁复杂的规则； 复杂难懂的细节； 迷宫图 | |
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109
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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110
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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111
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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112
croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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113
hoot
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| n.鸟叫声，汽车的喇叭声； v.使汽车鸣喇叭 | |
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114
tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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115
carrion
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| n.腐肉 | |
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116
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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117
cypress
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| n.柏树 | |
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118
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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119
authentic
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| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
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120
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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121
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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122
whetted
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| v.（在石头上）磨（刀、斧等）( whet的过去式和过去分词 )；引起，刺激（食欲、欲望、兴趣等） | |
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123
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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124
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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125
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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126
haggle
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| vi.讨价还价，争论不休 | |
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127
inflexibly
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| adv.不屈曲地，不屈地 | |
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128
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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129
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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130
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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131
extort
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| v.勒索，敲诈，强要 | |
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132
rhino
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| n.犀牛，钱, 现金 | |
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133
deluged
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| v.使淹没( deluge的过去式和过去分词 )；淹没；被洪水般涌来的事物所淹没；穷于应付 | |
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134
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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135
jobbers
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| n.做零活的人( jobber的名词复数 )；营私舞弊者；股票经纪人；证券交易商 | |
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136
jobber
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| n.批发商；(股票买卖)经纪人；做零工的人 | |
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137
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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138
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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139
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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140
propitious
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| adj.吉利的；顺利的 | |
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141
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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142
thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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143
needy
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| adj.贫穷的，贫困的，生活艰苦的 | |
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144
adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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145
gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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146
applicant
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| n.申请人，求职者，请求者 | |
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147
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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148
ostentation
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| n.夸耀，卖弄 | |
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149
parsimony
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| n.过度节俭，吝啬 | |
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150
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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151
screeched
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的过去式和过去分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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152
debtors
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| n.债务人，借方( debtor的名词复数 ) | |
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153
strenuously
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| adv.奋发地，费力地 | |
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154
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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155
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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156
steadfastly
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| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
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157
outstripped
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| v.做得比…更好，（在赛跑等中）超过( outstrip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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158
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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159
supervisor
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| n.监督人，管理人，检查员，督学，主管，导师 | |
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160
expediency
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| n.适宜；方便；合算；利己 | |
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161
zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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162
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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163
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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164
bridled
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| 给…套龙头( bridle的过去式和过去分词 )； 控制； 昂首表示轻蔑（或怨忿等）； 动怒，生气 | |
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165
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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166
fable
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| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
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167
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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168
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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169
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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170
testy
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| adj.易怒的；暴躁的 | |
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171
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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172
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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173
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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174
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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175
cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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176
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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177
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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178
cod
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| n.鳕鱼；v.愚弄；哄骗 | |
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179
divers
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| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
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180
wiled
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| v.引诱( wile的过去式和过去分词 )；诱惑；消遣；消磨 | |
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181
abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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182
delectable
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| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
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183
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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184
dominion
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| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
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185
aquatic
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| adj.水生的，水栖的 | |
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186
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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187
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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188
mouldering
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| v.腐朽( moulder的现在分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
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189
coffins
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| n.棺材( coffin的名词复数 )；使某人早亡[死，完蛋，垮台等]之物 | |
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190
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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191
smuggling
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| n.走私 | |
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192
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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193
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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194
jumbled
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| adj.混乱的；杂乱的 | |
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195
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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196
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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197
solaced
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| v.安慰，慰藉( solace的过去分词 ) | |
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198
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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199
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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200
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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201
blase
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| adj.厌烦于享乐的 | |
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