‘Lie still, Walnut,’ I ordered uneasily, for this was something new to me. I had never before heard men moving in the wood so late at night, and I was at first inclined to think that there might be some new plot of Tompkins or his satellites a-foot. Very cautiously I peered out. There was a young moon somewhere behind the soft veil of cloud, which covered the sky so that it was not too dark to see the figures of three men moving cautiously across the glade4 in which the pheasants fed. One carried a dark lantern, the tiny beam of light from which was what had roused us the moment before.
[193]
I saw them all three move cautiously across into a clump8 of young beeches which stood just across the glade. There they stopped, and the lantern was flashed upwards9 into the low branches, its light gleaming golden upon the yellowing leaves. A slight rustle10 followed, and a voice muttered:
‘I sees ’em. Shut the lantern an’ help me fix the smudge.’
The three now stooped together on the ground and appeared to be gathering11 dry leaves and heaping them together in a little pile. Presently I heard the faint scratching of a match, and a small blue flame illuminated12 three eager faces. Two of them were men whom I had never seen before; the third I recognized as a labourer whom I had more than once watched shake his fist fiercely as he passed the locked gate of the coppice.
The man who held the match touched it to the leaves, but before they could burst into bright flame the two others penned the little fire by holding a couple of sacks round it.
One of the men threw a handful of powder over the fire which at once choked it down, making it burn with a sickly blue flame. Then they all three[194] stood perfectly14 still, hiding the fire with their sacks, but keeping their heads turned as far as possible away from the smoke which went wreathing up in thick columns into the foliage15 above them.
Before many moments had passed there came a slight whirr, the sound of wings beating on leaves, and with a flop16, down fell a great pheasant almost on the heads of the watchers. Quick as a cat, one of the men reached out one arm, seized the bird, and wrung17 its neck. He had hardly done so when there was another rustle and thud, and a second of our oppressor’s pets shared the fate of the first.
It was evident that from the stuff they put in the flame there arose poisonous fumes18 that stupefied the roosting birds.
Very soon even we could smell the noisome19 stuff, and Walnut wrinkled up his nose in disgust. Even a human being, let alone a squirrel, whose sense of smell is fifty times more acute, could easily have perceived it.
Presently the poachers lifted up the whole fire, which we now saw had been built upon a small square of sheet-iron, and removed it bodily to a fresh spot, under another tree. Here no fewer than four pheasants were secured one after another, and then the fire was moved again. So they went on[195] for two hours or more, working round and round the glade. As nearly all the pheasants roosted in this part of the coppice there was no need to go further afield. At last, when their sack was fairly bulging20 with dead game, they took their departure.
Twice during the next three nights did the gang of poachers return, and each time went home with a score or more of long-tails. Tompkins at last began to miss his birds at feeding-time, and to suspect that something was wrong. Walnut and I sat secure in our retreat overhead, and jeered21 at the man’s utter stupidity. Why, even if he had no nose for the brimstone, of which the whole place fairly reeked22, there were great footprints all over the place telling their story in large type to anyone who had eyes! Yet the keeper absolutely walked over them without looking at them. The very idea of poachers never seemed to occur to him. I verily believe he thought that we had something to do with the disappearance23 of his precious pheasants, for as he left the coppice he fired at and killed a poor young cousin of ours.
The leaves had begun to fall once more, when one day the pompous24 little fat man accompanied Tompkins through the coppice. They stopped in the glade below us, and it was evident the[196] new tenant25 was uneasy. He began peering and pointing, and questioning the keeper as if he were only half satisfied.
‘Oh, they’re all right, sir,’ replied the keeper hastily, in answer to his questions. ‘You see, sir, they’ve got so big now they don’t need the grain. They’re round in the bracken finding their own feed.’
The master swallowed his story like a thrush swallowing a worm. Indeed, he was evidently rather pleased, for he thought the birds would be wild and strong on the wing for next day.
That same night I was wakened by gunshots. Never before had I heard a gun fired at night, and the sound was most alarming. I thought at first that the firing was at a distance, but just as I looked out the darkness was lit by a flash quite close at hand. The report was, however, strangely slight. As a matter of fact, the guns were loaded with reduced charges.
Immediately at the report down flopped26 a pheasant to the ground. The poacher gang were at work, and as time was short were shooting the pheasants as they roosted. Pop, pop, pop! The pheasants were falling at the rate of one a minute. There would be very few left for our stout27 friend[197] at the Hall and his swell28 city friends next day. Two sacks were full.
‘Just a dozen more,’ we heard one of them say.
‘Right oh!’ answered another. He spoke29 out loud, for by this time the gang had been so long undisturbed that they had become quite reckless, and neglected the precautions which they had at first observed.
The words were hardly out of his mouth before there was a sudden rush of feet, and there came the keeper, his son, another man, and the fourth was no other than the new tenant himself.
Ginger30 recklessly rushed forward shouting. Next instant a gun cracked—I never saw who fired the shot—and Ginger, with a hideous31 yell, fell forward on his face, and lay twitching32 in a horrid33 fashion on the ground.
I saw Ginger’s son charge forward, swinging his stick, with the other man close behind him. I saw the poachers run for their lives, leaving the spoil behind them. But what was the new Squire34 about? He never budged35, but stood there like a stuck pig; and even in the dim light it was easy to see his legs quaking and the shivers that shook his podgy frame.
Not until poachers and pursuers had vanished[198] through the trees, and the crashing sound of their running feet had almost died in the distance, did the cowardly little man move slowly up to where his keeper lay.
Tompkins only groaned37, and the stout man, kneeling beside him, fairly wrung his hands in hopeless incompetency38. At last he seemed to remember something, and pulling out a flask39 from his pocket, put it to Tompkins’s lips just as the keeper’s son and the other man returned empty-handed.
The new Squire turned on them, storming at them for having allowed the poachers to escape, without seeming to heed40 the fact that his keeper still lay unconscious at his feet. He stamped and swore and almost shrieked41 in his impotent anger. Presently his son and the other man hoisted42 up Tompkins, who seemed to have got the charge in his legs, and between them carried him off, the little stout man stalking growling43 along in the rear. Then, at last, Walnut and I were left to get some sleep.
However, there was no peace for us. By ten o’clock next day the coppice was full of beaters, making noise enough to rouse a dormouse, and[199] scaring the remaining pheasants nearly out of their feathers. Instead of running or hiding, the silly birds immediately rose and flew up over the trees, and then began such a salvo of firing as none of us had ever heard in our lives before. The whole coppice was full of the sharp, sour smell of smokeless powder, and as for us and the other coppice dwellers44, we cowered45 in the very deepest corners of our various refuges, and waited with shaking bodies and aching heads for the din13 to cease. At last it did stop, but only to break out afresh at the next spinney, and so on all day round the whole country-side.
In the afternoon, after it was all over, and just as Walnut and I were starting out to find our evening meal, there came a fresh invasion. It was headed by the stout new tenant, gorgeously arrayed in a check shooting suit, which in itself was enough to scare any self-respecting squirrel out of his wits, and with him walked five others like unto himself. He was evidently giving them all an account, a glorified46 account, of what had happened. By the way he pointed47 and ran a few steps, and let fly with his fist, it seemed as if he personally must have killed the whole gang of poachers, and they all listened attentively48, though one or two laughed behind his back.
[200]
I learnt afterwards from Cob that he had seen a man going about with the sacks full of dead pheasants the poachers had dropped. He had scattered49 them here and there throughout the wood. This had puzzled him much, and he had watched to see if they were left there; but, no; when the shoot was over the pheasants were picked up again with those that had really been shot by the guests, and in this way they made up quite a big bag.
All this poaching business does not seem to have much to do with my life. Indirectly50, however, it had, for the new tenant of the Hall was so angry about the poaching that on the very day after the battue he set a whole gang to work to run barbed wire—of all awful things!—round the whole of the coppice. Other men were put to lop the hedges close, and two new keepers engaged. The latter were worse than Tompkins. I suppose it was by way of justifying51 their existence that they walked about all day with their guns, firing at almost everything they could see that was not game. It became almost impossible to show our noses outside our homes during daylight, and many an evening Walnut and I went hungry to bed. Life became one prolonged dodging52, for even when the new keepers were not about the workmen would[201] take pot shots with stones at any of us they could view. Incidentally, too, they knocked over many a fat rabbit and dozens of the remaining pheasants. But of these proceedings53 their employer, intent on saving his coverts54 from the village poachers, remained in blissful ignorance.
At last there came a crisis. Walnut and I had taken advantage of the quiet of the midday hour—the men being at their dinner—to steal out and get some beech5-mast, when suddenly a missile of some sort hissed55 just above my head, cutting away a twig56 close above. I paused an instant in utter amazement57, for I had heard no report, when—ping! another bullet whacked58 on the bark close below my feet, and there was a brute59 of a boy in corduroys, his head peering from behind a trunk, and in the very act of stretching the elastic60 of a heavy catapult. One quick bark to Walnut, and we were both away as hard as we could lay legs to the branches. A third buckshot whizzed close behind my brush as I fled. The boy, seeing us run, at once followed and began positively61 showering shot after us. It was impossible to reach home under the bombardment, and if we had not been lucky enough to find a knot-hole in a beech just large enough to shelter the two of us, one or other—both,[202] perhaps—would have been maimed or killed.
This was the last straw. For some days a vague resolution had been forming slowly in my brain. That night, as we crouched62, almost too hungry to sleep, in our oak-tree home, I told Walnut we could stay there no longer, but must leave the coppice where we had so long sheltered.
He seemed rather to like the idea than otherwise, being young and ready for adventure.
Very early next morning I slipped across to the old beech and told my mother. I was anxious that she and the others should accompany us, but this she would not do.
‘No, Scud63; I am too old to leave my home. I shall stay here and take my chances. But you, I think, are wise to go. Waste no time in getting off, for you must be well away before the men come to their work.’
A few minutes later Walnut and I had crossed the road and were hastening away across an open field bound due north. We went that way because we could go no other—a squirrel migrating invariably travels north. I do not know the reason, but some instinct implanted in us ages and ages ago, perhaps even before men began to walk erect,[203] tells us to do so, and we obey it, and shall obey it, thousands of years hence. In just the same way the Norwegian lemmings march in their myriads64 towards the sea, and are drowned in the salt waves in a vain, instinctive65 effort to reach some place that has long disappeared beneath the waves.
I cannot tell you all our wanderings or the perils66 that we encountered by the way. Twice Walnut was very nearly caught by a weasel; once a wide-winged hen sparrow-hawk came whistling down out of the blue as we were crossing an open field, and we escaped only by a happy accident into an old drain-tile which happened to lie near by. In this narrow refuge we both squeezed our trembling bodies until the bird of prey67 had departed in disgust.
We travelled very slowly, stopping sometimes for a whole day in any coppice in which we happened to find ourselves. Several times we almost made up our minds to remain for good in one or other of these woods, but always the same difficulty stood in our way. The scarcity68 of food was universal. All the country-side had suffered alike from the great drought of the early summer, and mast, acorns69, and nuts alike were conspicuous70 by[204] their absence. As far as the present went, we did well enough. In autumn a squirrel can always find food of some kind or another.
The love of wandering was like a fever. In the course of a week or so we two had become regular vagabonds. There was an absolute fascination71 in new scenes each day and new quarters each night; and, feeling that we had cut ourselves off for ever from all our ties, there seemed no special object in stopping anywhere in particular.
And yet at times I was anxious. I knew well enough that winter was coming, and that we must settle down and find a home and collect stores before the cold weather.
There came a morning when the sky was full of high wind cloud, but the air so clear that distant objects seemed but a few fields away, and, leaving a small fir-plantation on the flank of a hill where we had spent the night, we looked down upon a deep valley, along the bottom of which was a long line of timber, wide in some places, narrow in others. Between the thinning autumn foliage one caught here and there the sparkle of running water. A mile or more down the valley, and on the far side of the river, a large old-fashioned house, that vaguely72 reminded me of the Hall, lay against the[205] steep side of the opposite slope, with gardens terraced to the water-edge.
The wood behind it was all that we could have hoped, and more. Ancient trees of enormous girth and size grew so thick and close that the sun seldom if ever reached the thickets73 of undergrowth beneath their spreading tops. Hardly a sign was to be seen of the interfering74 hand of man, and though the place was full of wild life—rabbits, wood-pigeons, and the like—pheasants were conspicuous by their absence. A peculiarity75 of the wood, no doubt on account of its damp, sheltered position, was the immense amount of ivy76 which covered the massive trunks with clinging tendrils and dark green leaves. There was food too, for the oaks whose roots no doubt penetrated77 far below the level of the stream, had a fair crop of acorns, and, better still, there were hazel-bushes close along the water’s edge which were still fairly full of ripe nuts. The place was a perfect Paradise from a squirrel’s point of view, and my half-joking suggestion of spending the winter in it speedily became a fixed78 idea.
The first thing to do was to find a residence. This was an easy task, for there were dozens to choose from. Walnut was very keen upon an old[206] magpie’s nest which he found in a huge thorn-tree, and which was still in excellent repair even to the roof; but I had had enough of built nests, and preferred a knot-hole in a beech. Once a squirrel takes to living in holes in trees, he usually sticks to the same description of residence to the end of his days.
One fact which struck me as odd during our first day’s exploration of the river-side wood was the almost entire absence of our own tribe. We only saw two squirrels besides ourselves, and they were young and anything but friendly. In fact, they both bolted before we could have a word with them.
It was the drumming of heavy rain among the dying foliage above that woke us at daylight next morning. The sky was one uniform grey, and everything was soaking and dripping. We had reason indeed to be thankful that we had found a warm dry home, for this weather looked like lasting79.
Last it did, all day long, and as there was nothing else to do we curled up and slept. Evening came, and still it rained—harder if anything than before. It was too wet to go out and forage80, and so we went hungry to bed. It is a fortunate dispensation[207] that we squirrel folk can go for long periods without food if we can find a dry place to sleep in, for I have seldom known a squirrel who would not sooner be hungry than wet.
Next morning it was still raining, though not so hard. Large pools lay in every depression, and the hoarse roar of the swollen81 river echoed through the soaking woods. Rain had now been falling for thirty-six hours straight on end, and we had been all that time without a meal.
Walnut told me he was simply starving, and must go out and find a few acorns.
I let him go, but, being sleepy, I did not accompany him.
I was not at all uneasy about him, for the wood seemed safe enough, and Walnut, now more than six months old, was well able to take care of himself. As for me, I drowsed until about midday, and then looking out again found that the downpour had at last ceased and the sun was shining once more. I missed Walnut, for I was so much accustomed to his nestling beside me; and, stretching lazily, I sallied forth82 to look for him, stepping daintily along the soaking boughs84 in order to avoid bringing down upon myself the great drops of moisture which hung on every yellowing leaf. I[208] made straight for the hazel-bushes, which we had found on the first day near to the water’s edge; but when I came in sight of the river I could hardly believe my eyes, so tremendous a change had the great rain wrought85. In place of the shallow stream that purled across pebble86 beds from pool to pool, a broad torrent87, red with the clay of the upland fields, was raging down with appalling88 force and fury. Even where the banks had been highest the flood was level with their tops, and in many places it had overflowed89 them so that the nut-bushes stood up like islands among wide backwaters where the current eddied90 lazily, swinging on its discoloured surface millions of dead leaves and sticks.
The sight fairly fascinated me, and for the moment I forgot my hunger, Walnut, and everything else in watching the irresistible91 force of the rushing torrent and noticing the speed at which the logs and sticks which it had tom from its banks were carried downwards92.
But hunger soon reasserted its claims, and I began to reconnoitre for the best means of reaching the nut-bushes and breakfast. A little further down the stream a low, flat-topped oak extended its spreading branches more than half-way across the flooded river, and I saw that from the point of[209] one of its long limbs it would be easy to drop into a good-sized clump of hazel-bush below. No sooner seen than done, and another minute found me comfortably perched in the branches of the hazel-bushes cracking nuts and eating them with a naturally fine appetite sharpened by forty hours abstinence.
That I was on an island completely cut off on all sides by water troubled me not at all. I was much too hungry to worry about that, for I felt sure that I could jump back on to my oak bough83, which formed a bridge to bring me back to land again, and so I worked steadily93 downwards from branch to branch.
I was only a foot or two from the ground when a rustle among the thick, mossy stumps94 below attracted my attention. Glancing down, the sight that met my eyes almost paralysed me with horror.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
walnut
|
|
| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
trampling
|
|
| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
underneath
|
|
| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
glade
|
|
| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
beech
|
|
| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
beeches
|
|
| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
hoarse
|
|
| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
clump
|
|
| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
upwards
|
|
| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
rustle
|
|
| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
illuminated
|
|
| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
din
|
|
| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
foliage
|
|
| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
flop
|
|
| n.失败(者)，扑通一声；vi.笨重地行动，沉重地落下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
wrung
|
|
| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
fumes
|
|
| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
noisome
|
|
| adj.有害的，可厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
bulging
|
|
| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
jeered
|
|
| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
reeked
|
|
| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的过去式和过去分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
disappearance
|
|
| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
pompous
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
tenant
|
|
| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
flopped
|
|
| v.（指书、戏剧等）彻底失败( flop的过去式和过去分词 )；（因疲惫而）猛然坐下；（笨拙地、不由自主地或松弛地）移动或落下；砸锅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
swell
|
|
| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
ginger
|
|
| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
hideous
|
|
| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
twitching
|
|
| n.颤搐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
horrid
|
|
| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
squire
|
|
| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
budged
|
|
| v.（使）稍微移动( budge的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）改变主意，（使）让步 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
stammered
|
|
| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
groaned
|
|
| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
incompetency
|
|
| n.无能力，不适当 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
flask
|
|
| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
heed
|
|
| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
shrieked
|
|
| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
hoisted
|
|
| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
growling
|
|
| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
dwellers
|
|
| n.居民，居住者( dweller的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
cowered
|
|
| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
glorified
|
|
| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
attentively
|
|
| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
indirectly
|
|
| adv.间接地，不直接了当地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
justifying
|
|
| 证明…有理( justify的现在分词 )； 为…辩护； 对…作出解释； 为…辩解（或辩护） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
dodging
|
|
| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
proceedings
|
|
| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
coverts
|
|
| n.隐蔽的，不公开的，秘密的( covert的名词复数 )；复羽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
hissed
|
|
| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
twig
|
|
| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
whacked
|
|
| a.精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
elastic
|
|
| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
crouched
|
|
| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
scud
|
|
| n.疾行；v.疾行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
myriads
|
|
| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
instinctive
|
|
| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
perils
|
|
| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
scarcity
|
|
| n.缺乏，不足，萧条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
acorns
|
|
| n.橡子，栎实( acorn的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
conspicuous
|
|
| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
fascination
|
|
| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
thickets
|
|
| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
interfering
|
|
| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
peculiarity
|
|
| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
ivy
|
|
| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
penetrated
|
|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
lasting
|
|
| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
forage
|
|
| n.(牛马的)饲料，粮草；v.搜寻，翻寻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
swollen
|
|
| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
bough
|
|
| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
boughs
|
|
| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
wrought
|
|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
pebble
|
|
| n.卵石，小圆石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
torrent
|
|
| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
appalling
|
|
| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
overflowed
|
|
| 溢出的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
eddied
|
|
| 起漩涡，旋转( eddy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
irresistible
|
|
| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
downwards
|
|
| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
stumps
|
|
| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |