They set off through the beautiful country in their usual order of march. The warriors1 of M'tela accompanied them, walking ahead, behind, and on either flank. The drums roared incessantly2, the trumpets3 of horn sounded. It was a triumphal procession, but rather awe4-inspiring. The safari5 men did their best to imitate Kingozi's attitude of indifference6; and succeeded fairly well, but their eyes rolled in their heads.
The Leopard7 Woman sat her donkey, and surveyed it all with appreciative8 eyes. In spite of Kingozi's reassuring9 words, the impression of savage10 power as the warriors debouched from the wood had been vivid enough to give emphasis to a strong feeling of relief when their intentions proved peaceful. The revulsion accentuated11 her enjoyment12 of the picturesque13 aspects of the scene. The shining, naked bodies, the waving ostrich14 plumes15, the glitter of spears, the glint of polished iron, the wild, savage expression of the men, the throb17 of barbaric music appealed to her artistic18 sense. In a way her mind was at rest. At least the striving was over. Kingozi had made his decision; it was no use to struggle against it longer. She had no doubt that now they were virtually prisoners, that they were being conducted in this impressive manner to a chieftain already won over by Winkleman. The latter had had more than the time necessary to carry out his purpose. Kingozi's persistence19 was maddeningly futile20; but it was part of the man, and she could not but acquiesce21.
They marched across the open grassy22 plain, and into the woods beyond. A wide, beaten track took them through, as though they walked in a lofty tunnel with green walls through which one could look, but beyond which one might not pass. Then out into the sunlight again, skirting a swamp of plumed23 papyrus24 with many waterfowl, and swarms25 of insects, and birds wheeling swiftly catching26 the insects, and other larger birds soaring grandly above on the watch-out for what might chance. This swamp was like a green river flowing bank high between the hills. It twisted out of sight around wooded promontories27. And the hills, constantly rising in height, crowned with ever-thickening forests, extended as far as the eye could reach.
At the end of the straight vista28 they turned sharp to the right and climbed a tongue of land--what would be called a "hog's-back" in the West. It was grown sparsely29 with trees, and commanded a wide outlook. Now the sinuous30 course of the papyrus swamp could be followed for miles in its vivid green; and the tops of the forest trees lay spread like a mantle31. The top of the "hog's-back" had been flattened32, and on it stood M'tela's palace.
The Leopard Woman stared curiously33. There was not much to be seen. A high stockade34 of posts and wattle shut off the view, but over it could be distinguished35 a thatched roof. It was rectangular instead of circular and appeared to be at least forty feet long--a true, royal palace. Smaller roofs surrounded it. Outside the gate stood several more of the gorgeous spearmen, rigidly36 at attention. Not another soul was in sight.
But whatever seemed to lack either in the cordiality or curiosity of the inhabitants was more than made up for by the escort. With admirable military precision, a precision that Kingozi would have appreciated could he have seen it, they deployed37 across the wide open space at the front of the plateau. The drums lined up before them. In the echoing enclosure of the forest walls the noise was prodigious38. And then abruptly39, as before, it fell. In the silence the voice of the old headman was heard:
"Here will be found the way to the guest houses," he urged gently.
The ragged40 safari, carrying its loads, plunged41 again into a forest path, walking single file, a tatterdemalion crew. And yet a philosophic42 observer might have caught a certain nonchalance43, a faint superiority of bearing on the part of these scarecrows; ridiculous when considered against the overwhelming numbers, the military spruceness, the savage formidability of the wild hordes44 that surrounded them. And if he had been an experienced as well as a philosophic observer he could have named the quality that informed them. Even in these truly terrifying, untried conditions it persisted--the white man's _prestige_.
The forest path, wide and well-trodden, led them a scant45 quarter mile to a cleared wide space on the very edge of the hill, which here fell abruptly away. A large circular guest house occupied the centre point, and other smaller houses surrounded it at a respectful distance. To the right hand were the tops of trees on a lower elevation46; to the left and at the rear the solid wall of forest; immediately in front a wide outlook over the papyrus swamp and the partly clothed hills beyond.
Their guides--for there were several--indicated the guest houses, and silently disappeared. The safari was alone with its own devices.
Kingozi's practical voice broke the slight awe that all this savage magnificence had imposed.
"Cazi Moto!" he commanded, "tell me what is here."
He listened attentively47 while the wizen-faced little headman gave a detailed48 account, not only of the present dispositions49, but also of what had been seen during the short march to M'tela's stronghold. At the conclusion of this recital50 he called to the Leopard Woman.
"I am here, near you," she answered.
"You must be my eyes for this," he told her. "Look into the large guest house. Is it clean? Is it fairly new?"
She reported favourably51 as to these points.
"I am sorry, but I must take it over for myself," he said. "Matter not of comfort, but of prestige. You would do best to pitch your tent somewhere near. Cazi Moto, let the men make camp as usual."
"Very well," she agreed to her part of this program. Her manner was very gentle; and she looked on him, could he have known it, with eyes of a tender compassion52. His was a brave heart, but Winkleman must long since have arrived----
She moved slowly away to superintend the placing of her tent, reflecting on these matters. It was decent of Winkleman to keep himself in the background just at first. Time enough to convince poor blind Kingozi that the game was up when he had to some extent recovered from the strain and fatigue53 of the long journey. But Winkleman was a good sort. She knew him: a big, hearty54, bearded Bavarian, polyglot55, intensely scientific, with a rolling deep voice. He must have had ten days--a week anyway--to use his acknowledged arts and influence on the savage king. Kingozi had said a week would be enough--and Kingozi knew! She sighed deeply as she thought of the doom56 to which his own obstinacy57 had condemned58 that remarkable59 man. Her eyes wandered to where he sat in his canvas chair, superintending through the ever-efficient Cazi Moto the details of the camp. His shoulders were sagging60 forward wearily, and his face in repose61 fell into lines of infinite sadness. Her heart melted within her; and in a sudden revulsion she flamed against Winkleman and all his diabolical62 efficiency. After all, this little corner of an unknown land could not mean so much to the general result, and it would be so glorious a consolation63 to a brave man's blindness! Then she became ashamed of herself as a traitor64. Her tent was now ready; so she entered it, bathed, clad herself in her silks, and hung the jewel on her forehead. Once more the serene65 mistress of herself, she came forth66 to view the sights.
It was by now near the setting of the sun. The forest shadows were rising. Colobus were calling, and birds. Up a steep trail from the swamp came a long procession of women and little girls. They were all stark67 naked, and each carried on her head an earthen vessel68 or a greater or lesser69 gourd70 according to her strength. They passed near the large guest house, and there poured the water from their vessels71 into a series of big jars. Thus every drop of water had to be transported up the hill, not only for the guest camp, but for all M'tela's thousands somewhere back in the mysterious forest. These women were of every age and degree of attractiveness; but all were slender, and each possessed72 a fine-textured skin of red bronze. Except the very old, whose breasts had fallen, they were finely shaped. The rays of the sun outlined them. They seemed quite unaware73 of their nakedness. Their faces were good-humoured; and some of them even smiled shyly at the white woman standing74 by her tent. Having poured out the water, they disappeared down the forest path.
Thence shortly appeared other women with huge burdens of firewood carried by means of a strap75, after the fashion of the Canadian tump-line; and still others with _m'wembe_, bananas, yams, eggs, _n'jugu_ nuts, and gourds76 of smoked milk. Evidently M'tela did not do things by halves.
The customary routine of the camp went on. Supper was served as usual; and as usual the Leopard Woman joined Kingozi for the meal. The occasion was constrained77 on her side, easy on his. He asked her various questions as to details of the surroundings which she answered accurately78 but a little absently. She spoke79 from the surface of her mind. Within herself she was listening and waiting--listening for the first sound of shod feet, wailing80 for the moment when Winkleman should see fit to declare himself and end the suspense82.
So high was this inner tension that she fairly jumped from her chair as a demoniac shrieking83 wail81 burst from the forest near at hand. It was answered farther away. Other voices took up the cry. It was as though a thousand devils in shuddering84 pain were giving tongue.
"Tree hyraxes," Kingozi reassured85 her.
"Those tiny beasts!" she cried incredulously.
"Just so. Sweet voices, haven't they? Some of these people must be wearing hyrax robes."
And indeed she remembered seeing some of the soft, beautiful karosses.
But now from the direction of M'tela's palaces arose a confused murmur86 that swelled87 as a multitude drew near. The drums began again. Soon, the Leopard Woman described, torches began to flash through the trees. At the same moment Cazi Moto came to report.
"Build up a big fire," commanded Kingozi. He turned to the Leopard Woman.
"This is likely to be an all-night session," he said resignedly. "If you want to get out of it, I advise you to go now. Not that you'll be able to get any sleep. But if you stay, you must stick it out. It would never do to leave in the middle of the performance. Some of it you won't like."
"What is it to be?"
"Ceremonial dances, I fancy."
"I think I shall stay," she said slowly.
In her heart she thought it extremely unlikely that the performance would last all night. Indeed her own opinion was that Kingozi would be a prisoner within an hour.
Kingozi settled himself stolidly89 in his chair before the fire that was now beginning to eat its way through an immense pile of fuel, where, during all subsequent events, he remained in the same attitude.
The Leopard Woman, on the contrary looked with all her eyes. The torches came nearer. People began to pour out from the woods. There were warriors in full panoply90; lithe91, naked men carrying only wands peeled fresh to the white; women hung heavily with cowries; other women with neither garment nor ornament92, their bodies oiled and glistening93. A deep, rolling chant arose from hundreds of throats, punctuated94 and carried by a sort of shrill95, intermittent96 ululation. The drums were there, but for the moment they were not being beaten in cadence97, only rubbed until they roared in undertone to the men's chanting.
All these people divided to right and left in the clearing of the guest camp, and took their stations. More and more appeared. The space filled, filled solidly, until at last there was no break in the mass of humanity except for a circle forty feet in diameter about the fire.
Suddenly a group of fifteen or twenty men detached themselves from the main body and leaped into this cleared space. The great chant still rolled on; but now a varied98 theme was introduced by a chorus of the nearby women. The dancers were oiled to a high state of polish, naked except for a single plume16 apiece and a sort of tasselled tail hung to a string belt. They clustered in a close group near the fire, facing a common centre. In deep chest tones they pronounced the word _goom_, at the same time half crouching100; then in sharp staccato head tones the word _zup_, at the same time rising swiftly up and toward their common centre. It was like the ebb101 and surge of a wave, the alternate smooth crouch99 and spring over and over again--_goom, zup! goom, zup! goom, zup!_--and behind it the twinkle of torches, the gleam of eyes, the roll of the deep-voiced chanting.
Endlessly they repeated this performance. The Leopard Woman, watching, at last had to close her eyes in order to escape the hypnotic quality of it. In spite of herself her senses swam in the rhythmic102 monotony. All outside the focus of the dancers turned gray--_goom, zup! goom, zup!_--was it never to end? And then it seemed to her that it never would end, that thus it would go on forever, and that so it was just and right. The men were tireless. The sweat glistened103 on their bodies, but their eyes gleamed fanatically. She floated off on a tide of irrelevant104 thoughts.
Hours later, as it seemed to her, she came to herself suddenly. Kingozi still sat stolidly in his chair. The dancers were retiring step by step, still with unabated vigour105, continuing their performance. They melted into the crowd.
Now a pellmell of bizarre figures broke out. They were bedecked fantastically: some of them were painted with white clay; one was clad in the skins of beasts. There was no rhythm or order to their entrance; but immediately they began to dash here and there shouting.
"It is the Lion Dance, _memsahib_," Cazi Moto told her in a low voice. "That one is the lion; and they hunt him with spears in the long grass."
The chase went forward with some verisimilitude, and yet with a symbolic106 syncopation that indicated the Lion Dance was a very ancient and conventional ceremony. These dancers gave way to a chorus of singers. For interminable hours, so it seemed, they chanted a high, shrill recitative, carried in fugue by deeper voices. The burden of the song was evidently an impromptu107. Occasionally some peculiarly apt or pleasing phrase was caught up for endless repetition. And in the background, against the farther background of the undistinguished masses, those who had formerly108 carried on their performances in the full glare of front-row publicity109 and the campfire, now continued their efforts almost unabated. The impressive utterers of the _goom-zup_ shibboleth110, the slayers of the symbolical111 lion, carried on still. Indeed as the night wore on, and one group of dancers succeeded another, the homogeneous crowd began to break into varied activity. Each took his turn as principal, then fell back to form part of the variegated112 background. Each dance was different. Warriors fully113 armed clashed shield and spear; witch doctors crouched114 and sprang; women stamped in rhythm; the elephant was hunted, the crops sown and gathered, all the activities of community and individual life were danced, the frankness of some saved from obscenity only by the unconscious earnestness of their exposition and the evidence of their symbolism that they were not the expression of the moment but very ancient customs.
The Leopard Woman watched it all with shining eyes. The emotion of the picturesque, the call of savage wildness, the contagion115 of a mounting community excitement caused the blood to race through her veins116. The drums throbbed117 against her heart as the pulse throbbed against her temples. She resisted an actual impulse to rise from her chair, to throw herself with abandon into an orgy of rhythm and motion. Perfectly118 she understood those who, having reached the breaking point, dashed madly through the fire scattering119 embers and coals, or who darted120 forward to kiss ecstatically the white man's feet, or who reached a wild paroxysm of nerves to collapse121 the next instant into exhaustion122. She was brought to herself by Kingozi's calm voice.
"Sweet riot, isn't it?" he remarked. "They're working themselves up to a high pitch. It's always that way. You would think they'd drop from sheer weariness."
"How long will they keep it up?" she asked, drawing a deep breath, and trying to speak naturally.
"So it got you, too, a little, did it?" he said curiously.
"What do you mean?"
"The excitement. It's contagious123 unless you are accustomed to it. I've seen safe and sane124 youngsters go quite off their heads at these shows, and dash down and caper125 around like the maddest _shenzi_ of them all. Felt it myself at first. It draws you; like wanting to jump off when you look down from a high place." He was talking evenly and carelessly. "Enough of this sort of thing will make a crowd see anything. Devil-worshippers for instance, they see red devils, after they work up to it, not a doubt of it."
"Thank you," she answered his evident purpose of bringing her to herself.
"All right now, eh?"
"Yes."
"Well, to answer your question; I've known dances to last two days."
"Heaven!" she cried, dismayed.
"But this is to prepare a suitable entrance for his majesty126. We'll hear from him along toward daylight." He held out his wrist watch toward her. "What time now?"
Somehow the simple action seemed to her pathetic. Her eyes filled, and she stooped as though to kiss the outstretched hand. Never again would the worn old wrist watch serve its owner, except thus, vicariously!
"It is ten minutes past the twelve," she answered in a stifled127 voice.
"We must settle down to it. If you want tea or something to eat, tell Cazi Moto."
He resumed his stolid88 demeanour.
The dancing continued. Every once in a while women threw armfuls of fuel on the blaze. The tree hyraxes, out-screeched and outnumbered, fell into silence or withdrew. Above the stars shone serenely128; and all about stood the trees of the ancient forest. Outside the hot, leaping red light they drew back aloof129 and still. They had seen many dances, many ebbs130 and flows of men's passions; for they were very old.
The Leopard Woman's vision blurred131 after a time. She was getting drowsy132. Her thoughts strayed. But always they circled back to the same point. She found herself wondering whether Winkleman would appear to-night.
A few hours earlier than Kingozi had predicted, in fact not far after two o'clock, the wild dancing died to absolute immobility and absolute silence, and M'tela arrived.
He appeared walking casually133 as though out for a stroll, emerging from the end of the wide forest path. Central African natives are never obese-- comic papers to the contrary notwithstanding. Nevertheless, M'tela was a large man, amply built, his muscles overlaid by smoother, softer flesh. He possessed dignity without aloofness134, a rare combination, and one that invariably indicates a true feeling of superiority. As he moved forward he glanced lazily and good-humouredly to right and left at his people, in the manner of a genial135 grown-up among small children. He wore a piece of cotton cloth dyed black, so draped as to leave one arm and shoulder bare, a polished bone armlet, and a tarboush that must have been traded through many hands.
"The _sultani, bwana_," murmured the ever-alert Cazi Moto.
M'tela wandered to where Kingozi sat. The white man did not move, but appeared to stare absently straight before him. At ten paces M'tela stopped and deliberately136 inspected his visitor for a full half-minute. Then he advanced and dropped to the stool an obsequious137 and zealous138 slave placed for him.
"_Jambo_, papa," he said casually.
His manner was perfect. The thousand or so human beings who crowded the clearing might not have existed. Himself and Kingozi, two equals, were settling themselves for an informal little chat in the midst of solitudes139. His large intelligent eye passed over the Leopard Woman, but if her appearance aroused in him any curiosity or other interest no flicker140 of expression betrayed the fact.
As he heard the form of address a brief gleam of satisfaction crossed Kingozi's face. Whether it has been transferred from the English, or has been adopted more directly from the babbling141 of infants, "papa" is perfectly good Swahili. When M'tela addressed Kingozi as "papa" he not only acknowledged him as a guest, but he admitted the white man to the intimacy142 that exists between equals in rank.
M'tela was friendly.
收听单词发音 |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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safari
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| n.远征旅行(探险、考察)；探险队，狩猎队 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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leopard
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| n.豹 | |
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appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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accentuated
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| v.重读( accentuate的过去式和过去分词 )；使突出；使恶化；加重音符号于 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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ostrich
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| n.鸵鸟 | |
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plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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plume
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| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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acquiesce
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| vi.默许，顺从，同意 | |
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grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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plumed
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| 饰有羽毛的 | |
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papyrus
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| n.古以纸草制成之纸 | |
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swarms
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| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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promontories
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| n.岬，隆起，海角( promontory的名词复数 ) | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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sparsely
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| adv.稀疏地；稀少地；不足地；贫乏地 | |
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sinuous
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| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
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mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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stockade
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| n.栅栏，围栏；v.用栅栏防护 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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rigidly
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| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
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deployed
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| （尤指军事行动）使展开( deploy的过去式和过去分词 )； 施展； 部署； 有效地利用 | |
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prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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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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philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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nonchalance
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| n.冷淡，漠不关心 | |
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hordes
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| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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dispositions
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| 安排( disposition的名词复数 )； 倾向； （财产、金钱的）处置； 气质 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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favourably
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| adv. 善意地，赞成地 =favorably | |
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52
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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53
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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54
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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55
polyglot
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| adj.通晓数种语言的；n.通晓多种语言的人 | |
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56
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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57
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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58
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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59
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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60
sagging
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| 下垂[沉，陷]，松垂，垂度 | |
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61
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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62
diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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63
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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64
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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65
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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66
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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67
stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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68
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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69
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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70
gourd
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| n.葫芦 | |
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71
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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72
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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73
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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74
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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75
strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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76
gourds
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| n.葫芦( gourd的名词复数 ) | |
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77
constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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78
accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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79
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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80
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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81
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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82
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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83
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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84
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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85
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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86
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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87
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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88
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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89
stolidly
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| adv.迟钝地，神经麻木地 | |
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90
panoply
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| n.全副甲胄，礼服 | |
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91
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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92
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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punctuated
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| v.（在文字中）加标点符号，加标点( punctuate的过去式和过去分词 )；不时打断某事物 | |
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95
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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96
intermittent
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| adj.间歇的，断断续续的 | |
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97
cadence
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| n.（说话声调的）抑扬顿挫 | |
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98
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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99
crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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100
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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101
ebb
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| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
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102
rhythmic
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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103
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
irrelevant
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| adj.不恰当的，无关系的，不相干的 | |
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105
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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106
symbolic
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| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
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107
impromptu
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| adj.即席的，即兴的；adv.即兴的(地)，无准备的(地) | |
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108
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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109
publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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110
shibboleth
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| n.陈规陋习；口令；暗语 | |
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111
symbolical
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| a.象征性的 | |
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112
variegated
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| adj.斑驳的，杂色的 | |
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113
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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114
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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115
contagion
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| n.(通过接触的疾病)传染；蔓延 | |
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116
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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117
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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118
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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119
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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120
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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121
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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122
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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123
contagious
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| adj.传染性的，有感染力的 | |
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124
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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125
caper
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| v.雀跃，欢蹦；n.雀跃，跳跃；续随子，刺山柑花蕾；嬉戏 | |
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126
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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127
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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128
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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129
aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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130
ebbs
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| 退潮( ebb的名词复数 )； 落潮； 衰退 | |
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131
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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132
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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133
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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134
aloofness
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| 超然态度 | |
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135
genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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136
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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137
obsequious
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| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
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138
zealous
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| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
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139
solitudes
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| n.独居( solitude的名词复数 )；孤独；荒僻的地方；人迹罕至的地方 | |
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140
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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141
babbling
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| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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142
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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