How good mother was to me in those days I well remember. She encouraged me to tell her all I could of the Hall and its people, and all the incidents of my captivity3, and she alone of my family seemed thoroughly4 to sympathize with me in my longing5 for my lost master.
Hazel, too, was very dear and good, and would listen with the greatest interest to my long yarns6.[96] She was a sweet little thing in those days, very small, but extremely well built and active, and, for a young squirrel, of a peculiarly rich colour. Rusty7, however, had little sympathy with my longings8. He was already a large, powerful squirrel of an extremely independent turn of mind, and most extraordinarily9 bold and fearless. Mother was in a constant state of anxiety about him, for he would go off on long expeditions quite alone, sometimes not coming home till nearly sunset, and ever since father’s death mother had been nervous as a hare when any of her children were out of her sight.
As for me, I soon became thoroughly at home in the wood, and could climb as well as either my brother or my sister, though I was at first by no means so adept10 at taking shelter as the other two. I had grown so accustomed to many sights and sounds ordinarily alarming to one of our tribe, that mother had often to scold me for exposing myself heedlessly to view on the rare occasions when people walked through the wood, and she had to show me all over again the tricks of lying out flat on a bough11 so that I could not be seen by passers-by, or of supporting myself on a trunk beneath a sheltering branch when[97] danger in the shape of a hawk12 threatened from above.
The good and plentiful13 food with which I had always been supplied at the Hall had made me fat and strong beyond what squirrels usually are at my age. There was very little difference now between me and Rusty, though originally I had been smaller. It was lucky for me that I had been turned loose just at this special time of year, for autumn is, of course, the squirrel’s harvest, and food was particularly plentiful that season. Nuts were ripening14 among the yellowing leaves; acorns15 were to be had for the picking; the beech16-trees were full of mast, and when we tired of these there were spruce-seeds and berries of every description.
Earlier in the year larch17, fir, pine, and spruce tips had been our main sustenance18, but these were now getting dry and old, for it was past the season of evergreen19 growth, and so we left them alone and fed almost entirely20 on nuts and seeds.
About this time we had several days of soft warm rain, and after them part of the horse pasture which adjoined the coppice on the other side from the Hall was thickly dotted each morning with little white buttons, which mother explained to me[98] were mushrooms. We used to steal down across the wet grass in the mornings, brushing through the gossamer21 spiders’ webs till our chests and paws were white with them, and feast royally on the tenderest and daintiest of the mushrooms, sometimes getting terrible frights when the village children who came to fill their baskets saw us, and clapped their hands to make us run.
Mother was a wonderful forager22. I remember one morning how she stopped on the bank where the beech-trees grow thickest, and after snuffing a moment or two, began to dig rapidly in the soft, black, loamy soil. Presently she nosed out some little round objects covered with a dark skin, and pushed one over to me. Never have I eaten anything more delectable24 than my first truffle. I can find them myself now as well as anyone.
Other fungi25 too were plentiful after that rain. Some grew under the trees, some on rotten logs, others out in the open. Some were good to eat—better even than mushrooms—but others were poisonous. Mother never passed a new one without showing us which were fit to eat and which were not. There was a brilliant scarlet26 kind which she warned us against strongly; well I remember how she scolded me one day because just for fun I[99] pulled one up, and stuck it stalk down in a fork of a tree. I did not repeat the experiment, for it left a bad taste in my mouth for hours afterwards.
About this time my coat began to change. Squirrels that are born early in the spring have fur of a greyish-brown hue27 very like the coats that old squirrels put on in winter, but we, being June kittens, had summer suits of red-brown without any ear tufts, or any hair on the palms of our hands. First, my tail changed and grew darker, much heavier and more bushy. It turned to a blackish-brown, quite different from its previous bright chestnut-red hue. My coat, too, began, but more slowly, to lose its ruddy tint28, and to assume its winter colouring. I became dark brownish-red on the head and back. My white under parts changed to grey, which spread along my sides. It also grew longer, softer and warmer, and my ear tufts began to show. During the summer a squirrel has but a few hairs on the points of the ears, but winter brings a thick tuft a full inch in length.
We squirrels have a strange peculiarity29. We are the only living creatures, so far as I know, who change our coats twice a year and our tails once only. As I have said, we change our coats in spring and again before the cold weather, but our[100] tails once only—in autumn. A healthy squirrel looks at his best in late September and early October, for at that time his new brush is extremely bright, while his new grey-brown coat is rich and long. Both fade during the cold weather, the fur especially becoming during long frosts of a yellowish rusty hue. There are, I believe, some squirrels, near relatives of our own, living in Canada, who turn almost white in winter. But as—luckily for ourselves—all we squirrels have the sense to sleep away most of the cold weather, we have not the same need to conceal30 ourselves by assuming the colour of the snow, as have Arctic hares and foxes and many other animals which are obliged to work and forage23 for a living during the hard weather.
But I was talking about the good times we had that autumn and the various delicacies31 we used to hunt. After the rain which brought such a crop of mushrooms, we had a week of wonderfully warm, soft, hazy32 weather, but then the wind switched round into the east, and for the first time in my life I understood what cold was. It blew bitterly, with a hard grey sky, and the trees being still full of leaves, the noise of the gale33 through the coppice was one long roar, the great boughs34 swaying, creaking, and complaining bitterly. Very[101] glad we were, when night fell, to snuggle all four close together in the hollow in the beech hole which mother had selected as our abode36 after the destruction of our second nest! It was a very convenient residence, considering that it was a ready-made one. Some winter storm of years long past had torn away a large branch at its junction37 with the trunk, and rain and weather had rotted the scar till at last a hollow was left large enough to hold a dozen of us. Once it had been full of water, but a green woodpecker boring its nest in the trunk below, the moisture had drained away through the rotten fibres, and now it was dry as a bone, and formed as convenient and comfortable a retreat as any dreyless family of squirrels could possibly desire.
The gale lasted two whole days and nights, and then it cleared and left a hard blue sky from which the small white flecks38 of wind-cloud vanished one by one, and on the fourth morning we woke to find the grass white with hoar frost and a keen tang in the air which filled us with a wild delight in the mere39 fact of being alive. Rusty, Hazel and I sallied forth40 and tore round and round like three mad things, flinging ourselves from bough to bough, rattling41 up and down the huge trunk and wide-spreading[102] branches, playing all manner of practical jokes on one another.
Mother watched us indulgently, but when, quite out of breath, we at last came back to her, she announced that the time had arrived to begin the collection of our winter stores.
‘Now that you have no father,’ she said, ‘you must help me in the work, for remember there is nothing worse than to be caught by bad weather unprepared, and without many stores of food.’
That was the first real work that I ever did. It seemed odd, when we reached the nut bushes at the edge of the coppice, not to choose the plumpest nuts, and sit and eat them on the spot. I think, indeed, that we all began by doing so, and mother did not interfere42 until we had each had a good breakfast; but afterwards she kept us steadily43 to work. I am afraid that we needed a good deal of superintendence to keep us up to the mark, but mother set us such a good example that we were shamed into doing our best. At first I was under the impression that we were to carry all the nuts back to our beech-tree home, but mother laughed when I suggested this, and told me that it was quite unnecessary to do anything of the kind. After looking about a little, she[103] chose a long hollow under a gnarled old blackthorn trunk at the bottom of the hedge, and here, and in other similar cavities, we stored a goodly supply. Towards noon mother told us that that was enough for the day, and while she and Hazel went back home, Rusty and I decided44 to go for a little round on our own account.
Working down the hedge, we came upon a patch of thick brambles from which the blackberries were falling from over-ripeness. A greedy cock pheasant below was simply stuffing himself with the fallen berries and those near the ground. For a joke Rusty crept up quietly, and then, making a sudden bound, alighted almost on the handsome bird’s head. Off he went with a terrific whirr and flutter across the big meadow, and Rusty, with a malicious45 gleam in his eyes, sprang back to my side.
Presently we found ourselves at the coppice gate, and instinctively46 I stopped and gazed across the meadow towards the Hall. The wind had brought many leaves down, and the long, low, red-brick building with its steep tiled roofs, stood strongly outlined behind the thinning fringe of its oaks and elms.
I don’t know whether it was the keen, brisk air,[104] or what, but suddenly the idea came to me to visit the old place once more, and on the spur of the moment I suggested it to Rusty.
For a moment my brother looked blank. Adventurous47 as he was, the idea of crossing more than a quarter of a mile of open grass land rather staggered him. You know we squirrels will make journeys of any length provided we can travel through the tree tops, and so long as a tree is handy we have no objection to short trips across country from one to another; but none of us care about open ground. We can run at a good speed for a short distance, but there is no cover in grass. There we are absolutely at the mercy of any hungry hawk, while weasels have a nasty trick of popping out suddenly from rabbit earths or drains. Then, too, there is no escape from the gun or rabbit rifle of any pot-hunting man or boy, while poaching dogs or cats are another source of really desperate peril48.
However, Rusty was not the sort to think twice of danger, or to be outdared by the brother whom he had secretly despised as a ‘tame’ squirrel. I saw his teeth set and a sudden sparkle in his eye.
‘All right,’ he remarked, and that was all. He was out of the hedge and over the ditch before[105] me, and leading the way at a great pace across the pasture.
We did not keep to the path, but made off to the left, where an irregular fringe of trees grew along inside the hedge which cut off the pasture from the road leading between the Hall and the village. Great luck attended us. Beyond a few rabbits we saw no sign of life, and when we got close enough to the trees to take refuge if any danger approached I breathed more freely, and I feel sure that Rusty was equally relieved. Racing49 along among the rustling50 dead leaves, we crossed the brook51 near the culvert under the road. The rivulet52 was so small that it was no trouble to jump. Then we found ourselves in the park, and here we had to take to the open again. The fine clumps54 of timber which dotted it here and there were our islands of refuge, and we ran from one to the other, the same good fortune attending us during our whole journey. From the last tree we steered55 for the kitchen-garden wall, and keeping along the bottom of this, reached the sunk fence. Once up this, and I was on familiar ground.
A long narrow plantation56 of Kentish cob-nuts bordered the wall which divided the kitchen-garden[106] from the lawns, and in this we were soon snugly57 ensconced.
‘My teeth! Did you ever see such nuts?’ exclaimed Rusty, staring in wide-eyed amazement58 at the great russet-coloured cobs which hung in profusion59 among the brilliantly tinted60 leaves.
‘Oh yes, I’ve eaten lots of them,’ replied I, with conscious superiority. ‘Try them. They’re uncommon61 good.’
Rusty needed no second bidding, but set to work, and cutting the tip off one of the largest nuts, was soon discussing its fat, white kernel62 with a gusto which proved that he thoroughly agreed with me in my estimate of the quality of cobs. I joined in, and we made a most delicious luncheon63. From where we sat the lawn and part of the house were in full sight, and all the time I kept a watch fill eye upon the clump53 of evergreens64 where I had been used to play, in the hope that I might see the familiar figure of my dear master in his rough tweeds, and his cap on the back of his head, sauntering across the lawn.
Alas65! there was no sign of him nor of any of the Fortescues. Had I known it, half the length of England separated me from the nearest of my old friends. After a time, however, some one did[107] stroll out upon the terrace walk. He was a complete stranger—a short, fat man, with red cheeks and mutton-chop whiskers. He wore a grey bowler66, tipped far back upon his head, his thumbs were stuck in the armholes of his gaudy67 waistcoat, and a long, black cigar was held between his thick lips. He was gazing round him with a complacent68 air of proprietorship69 which in some indefinable fashion annoyed me intensely.
Suddenly he took the cigar from his lips and shouted loudly, ‘Simpson!’ A man with a bill-hook in his hand came hurrying round from the shrubbery behind the house.
The stout70 man pointed71 to Jack’s and my pet clump of evergreens. ‘Those shrubs72 are untidy, Simpson. They want clipping up. Get to work on ’em at once!’ And, to my horror and disgust, Simpson began chopping and carving73 away at the deodars and arbor74 vitæ, lopping all the boughs up a man’s height from the ground, and turning the pretty shrubs into the stiff, unnatural75 likeness76 of the toy trees in Jack’s youngest brother’s Noah’s Ark.
Then, as I looked about me, I began to see that many things had been changed. The laurels77 were cut close and flat; a number of fine limbs had been[108] sawn from the elms; several new beds of weird78 pattern had been cut in the splendid century-old turf of the lawn; the gravel79 paths were all fresh swept; everything had a painfully overtidy appearance.
Presently one of the drawing-room French windows was pushed open, and a third person appeared on the scene—a boy about Jack’s age, but how strangely different! He was short, like the elder man, and had the appearance of having but just stepped out of a band-box. His cord riding-breeches were as immaculate as his white cuffs80 and tall white collar; his brown boots quite gleamed in the autumn sun, and he wore new dogskin gloves. Strolling over towards his father, he began to talk, but we were too far away to hear what they said. After a short time they both turned and came across the lawn towards the kitchen-garden door.
‘I say, Scud81, hadn’t we better hook it?’ suggested Rusty. But I was so interested in these new people, who seemed to have usurped82 the place of my dear Fortescues, that foolishly I replied:
‘No; they’re not coming near us. Keep still, and they’ll never see us.’
The pair had nearly reached the garden door[109] when I heard the boy exclaim something, and they changed the direction of their walk in the direction of the hazels. A swish of bent83 branches shortly followed.
The distance from the garden door down to the angle of the garden wall was not more than thirty yards, and I knew very well that, thick as the bushes were, there was not a ghost of a chance of our remaining undetected if they came poking84 about in this fashion.
‘Come on, Rusty!’ I muttered, and we at once made off as quietly as we could. Unluckily for us, while the stout man was poking his head among the branches, puffing85 and blowing as he did so like a broken-winded horse, the boy had walked on down the path, and next moment his shrill86 voice rang out:
‘I say, father, here are two beastly squirrels stealing nuts. Keep an eye on ’em while I get my gun.’
He was off across the grass at a pace one would not have credited him with, and we, aware that any attempt at further concealment87 was useless, went off also at top speed.
What we both dreaded88 was the long open space at the bottom of the kitchen-garden wall, where it[110] abutted89 on the park. However, there was no shirking it. If we stayed where we were we would be caught like rats in a trap. It was Rusty who made the jump first out of the bushes and down the sunk fence, and as I followed him I heard the fat man shouting hoarsely90: ‘Quick, they’re running away!’
How we scuttled91! Even a terrier would have had his work cut out to catch us. There was no cover at all until we reached the far end of the long line of wall, and we strained every nerve to gain the hedge which ran at right angles from the end of it, separating the park from the road. The distance was not much more than seventy yards, but it seemed like a mile as we tore along. Fresh shouts behind us spurred us to almost super-squirrel efforts. Hardly five yards were left when suddenly—bang, and a sound like hail pattering on the ground behind us. Next second, and with simultaneous bounds we were in the hedge, but before we could get through it and into shelter on the far side the sound of another shot rang through the calm autumn air, and this time with better aim. Leaves flew in the hedge, and a sharp blow on the head sent me staggering, nearly causing me to lose my foothold.
[111]
‘Come on, Scud. We must cross the road,’ called Rusty at that moment; and with a fine jump he was across the ditch and out on the white, dusty surface.
Recovering myself, I followed, and found that, though my head was singing, I could still run as well as ever.
Luckily there was not a soul in sight, so we crossed the road in safety, plunged92 through the opposite hedge, and found ourselves in a plantation of young larches93 about twenty feet high. Through these we went as hard as ever we could pelt94, until, quite exhausted95, we came to rest somewhere in the thickest depths, and, climbing into one of the largest trees, lay panting and tired out on an upper bough. For a minute neither of us could move; then suddenly Rusty, glancing at me, exclaimed:
‘Why, Scud, you’re hurt!’
‘Yes, something hit me,’ I answered faintly.
In a moment the good fellow was licking my wounded head. A pellet of shot, it seemed, had glanced along my skull96, cutting the skin and going right through one of my ears. The wound bled a good deal, but it was not a serious one, and after I had got my breath back, and after my heart had[112] ceased thumping97 as though it would burst, I felt very little the worse, and announced that I was quite ready to start home. But Rusty, more cautious, refused to move.
‘That fellow with the gun may be waiting in the road for us,’ he said. ‘Much better stay here a bit. The shadows are still short, and we shall have plenty of light for our journey home.’
His advice seemed good, so we waited where we were for an hour or more. My wound stopped bleeding, but my head was very sore. It was not, however, so badly hurt as my feelings. That I should have been shot at and nearly killed in the garden of the Hall seemed beyond belief, and what made it worse was that I had impressed on Rusty over and over again that whatever the dangers in our coppice, the Hall grounds, at any rate, were a safe refuge. One thing I was deeply grateful for—that he had not been harmed. With all the intensity98 of my squirrel nature I hated the intruders who had put the insult upon me. How I longed that Jack might have been there to take vengeance99 on our persecutors!
Rusty, good fellow that he was, forebore to add to my self-reproaches by any remarks about what had happened. When I made some sort of apology[113] for bringing him into trouble, he merely smiled, and, licking his lips, said:
‘I shan’t forget those nuts in a hurry. Wouldn’t mother like a few of them!’
At last, when the shadows were beginning to lengthen100 towards the east, we made a move. Under Rusty’s direction we worked back very quietly through the plantation to the edge of the road, and took a careful survey from the top of the tallest tree. All was still, the only sounds that broke the quiet of the windless autumn afternoon being the scrape of Simpson’s saw as he lopped away branches from the Hall trees, and the distant ‘Gee!’ and ‘Haw!’ of a ploughman at work in a field to the right of the larch plantation.
We crossed the road again, and resolved that though the distance was considerably101 greater, we would stick to the hedge all the way, and not trust ourselves again to the open grass. Fortunately for our peace of mind, the road along the side of which we were forced to travel was quite deserted102, and, keeping as much as possible in the centre of the hedge, we slipped along at best pace. Of course, it was not by any means easy travelling, for in places the quickset was so thick and close that we were forced to take to the ground for short distances.[114] Ground near a hedge is always most dangerous, for an old hedgerow, especially one with high banks either of earth or stone, is the chosen home of the stoat and the weasel, and both these bloodthirsty little terrors are quite as much at home among the branches of a thick hedge as even a squirrel.
More than half of our journey was covered in safety, and when we reached and crossed the brook we began to feel as though we were almost home. But we were not to escape without further adventure. A little way past the brook, just as we were nearing the timber which I have mentioned as running in an irregular row along the inside of this part of the hedge, there came a piece of holly103 so thick and close-cropped as to be quite impenetrable except very close to the ground. It would really have been wiser to have cut out across the field to the nearest of the trees, but we had had such a scare that we shirked the open. Rusty, leading as before, had got half-way through the holly, when I saw him stop short, and then, with a little warning cry, make a quick bound upwards104 into the thickest heart of the holly. At the same moment the tangled105 ivy107 which covered the bank below became alive with little beady eyes and snake-like, sinuous[115] forms. We had run right into a whole pack of weasels hunting together, as is their custom on autumn afternoons.
I was after him like a flash, but the brutes108 had seen us, and came swarming109 up the close-set stems, hard at our heels. Under ordinary circumstances we could have cleared them in half a dozen bounds, but here we were at a shocking disadvantage. Above our heads the holly was like a wall, and it was all we could do to force our way through the stiff, glistening110, dark-green leaves. I remember plunging111 along desperately112, almost mad with fright, my eyes half-shut to protect them from the sharp prickles, and my nostrils113 full of the horrible, musky odour of our eager pursuers.
Then suddenly I was out of the darkness and on the top of the hedge, scratched, breathless, my wounded ear bleeding again. But where was Rusty? I could not see him, and a horrible fear almost numbed114 me. Just in front the branches were shaking, but it was too thick to see what was happening below. Anxiety overcoming terror, I made a dive forward into the tangle106 from which I had just escaped with much difficulty, and almost as I did so there came Rusty’s head out of the thicket115. His eyes were bright with fright, and he dragged[116] himself forward slowly, as if something were pulling him back. Instantly I saw that a weasel had him by the tail, its sharp teeth buried in the thick, long hairs. Without thinking twice, I plunged down and snapped with all my might at the fierce brute’s head. My long front teeth sank deep into the back of his neck, and I felt them grate on his skull. His jaws116 opened and he fell backwards117, knocking over the next of the pack in his fall.
Relieved of the weight, Rusty shot upwards, and with half a dozen tremendous bounds was out of danger. As I followed him, a third weasel gained the top of the hedge, and, throwing its long body high into the air, like a snake in the act of striking, tried its best to seize me. I heard its needle-like, white teeth snap and caught a glimpse of its red eyes gleaming fiercely; but I was too quick for it, and, as it fell back disappointed, I was off in Rusty’s wake at a speed that defied pursuit. Regardless of concealment, we tore along the top of the hedge until level with the trees, then, turning off to the left, reached the timber, and so from tree to tree towards the coppice.
The sun was just setting when two worn-out, scratched, frightened, and very disreputable-looking squirrels reached the old beech and made humble[117] confession118 to their mother of all that had happened to them during that adventurous day, and, after a thorough good scolding, were at last forgiven and permitted to sup on beech-mast and curl up with the rest of their family snug35 in the heart of the great beech trunk.
After this day I found that Rusty treated me with far more consideration than he had ever shown before. He dropped his jeers119 about ‘tame’ squirrels, and showed in his silent way that he was pleased to have my company in his wanderings abroad. I forgot to say that, though his brush looked a little lopsided for a time, the hair soon grew again, while my wound healed rapidly; but I still have a small hole through the left ear where the shot passed, to remind me of my narrow escape.
For the next few weeks mother kept us very busy, helping120 her to collect winter stores. These consisted almost entirely of hazel-nuts, acorns, and beech-mast, all of which were very plentiful. We made small hoards121 in many different places, a very necessary precaution, for if—to use Jack’s expression—we were to put all our eggs in one basket, we should stand a very good chance of starving in hard weather. There are plenty of thieves in the woods.[118] Rats and mice are the worst—absolutely conscienceless, both of them. Then there are the nut-hatches, who have a wonderful trick of ferreting out nuts hidden in holes in timber. Again, snow may cover a ground-hoard too deep to reach it, or even hide it altogether, so that it is impossible to find it at all. People who abuse us, because we occasionally do a little pruning122 among the tips of the evergreens, should remember that we are the greatest planters in the country. I suppose that quite one in three of the ancient oaks that England is so proud of have sprung from acorns hidden by squirrels in autumn, and either lost or not needed during the winter. So, too, have countless123 beech-trees and nut-bushes, and not a few pines and firs into the bargain.
As we worked at our stores we often met others of our race intent upon similar business. The nuts of our coppice were famous for a long way round, and were so plentiful that there was enough for fifty families if they cared to come for them. We enjoyed seeing these visitors, and had great games with them.
And so day by day, as the leaves fell and the night frosts became more frequent and more sharp, we worked and played and generally enjoyed life quite undisturbed by any outside interference.
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1
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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2
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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4
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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5
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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yarns
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| n.纱( yarn的名词复数 )；纱线；奇闻漫谈；旅行轶事 | |
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7
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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longings
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| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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adept
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| adj.老练的，精通的 | |
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bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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ripening
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的现在分词 )；熟化；熟成 | |
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acorns
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| n.橡子，栎实( acorn的名词复数 ) | |
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beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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larch
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| n.落叶松 | |
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sustenance
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| n.食物，粮食；生活资料；生计 | |
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evergreen
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| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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gossamer
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| n.薄纱，游丝 | |
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forager
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| n.强征（粮食）者；抢劫者 | |
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forage
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| n.(牛马的)饲料，粮草；v.搜寻，翻寻 | |
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delectable
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| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
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fungi
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| n.真菌，霉菌 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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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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peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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31
delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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33
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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34
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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35
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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36
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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37
junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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38
flecks
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| n.斑点，小点( fleck的名词复数 )；癍 | |
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39
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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40
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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41
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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42
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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43
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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44
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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45
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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46
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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47
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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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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49
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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50
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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51
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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52
rivulet
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| n.小溪，小河 | |
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53
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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54
clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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56
plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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57
snugly
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| adv.紧贴地；贴身地；暖和舒适地；安适地 | |
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58
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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59
profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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60
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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61
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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62
kernel
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| n.(果实的)核，仁；(问题)的中心，核心 | |
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63
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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64
evergreens
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| n.常青树，常绿植物，万年青( evergreen的名词复数 ) | |
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65
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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66
bowler
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| n.打保龄球的人，（板球的）投（球）手 | |
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67
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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68
complacent
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| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
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69
proprietorship
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| n.所有（权）；所有权 | |
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71
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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72
shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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73
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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74
arbor
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| n.凉亭；树木 | |
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75
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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76
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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77
laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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78
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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79
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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80
cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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81
scud
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| n.疾行；v.疾行 | |
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82
usurped
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| 篡夺，霸占( usurp的过去式和过去分词 )； 盗用； 篡夺，篡权 | |
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83
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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84
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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85
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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86
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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87
concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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88
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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89
abutted
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| v.（与…）邻接( abut的过去式和过去分词 )；（与…）毗连；接触；倚靠 | |
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90
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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91
scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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92
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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93
larches
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| n.落叶松（木材）( larch的名词复数 ) | |
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94
pelt
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| v.投掷，剥皮，抨击，开火 | |
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95
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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96
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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97
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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98
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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99
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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100
lengthen
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| vt.使伸长，延长 | |
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101
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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102
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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103
holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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104
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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105
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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106
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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107
ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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108
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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109
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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110
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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111
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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112
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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113
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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114
numbed
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| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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115
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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116
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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117
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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118
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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119
jeers
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| n.操纵帆桁下部（使其上下的）索具；嘲讽( jeer的名词复数 )v.嘲笑( jeer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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120
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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121
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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122
pruning
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| n.修枝，剪枝，修剪v.修剪（树木等）( prune的现在分词 )；精简某事物，除去某事物多余的部分 | |
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123
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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