“By what means,” she continued, “can he have tamed these animals to such a point as to be certain of their affection for——”
“What seems to you a problem,” said I, interrupting, “is really quite natural.”
“Oh!” she cried, letting an incredulous smile wander over her lips.
“You think that beasts are wholly without passions?” I asked her. “Quite the reverse; we can communicate to them all the vices1 arising in our own state of civilization.”
She looked at me with an air of astonishment2.
“But,” I continued, “the first time I saw M. Martin, I admit, like you, I did give vent3 to an exclamation4 of surprise. I found myself next to an old soldier with the right leg amputated, who had come in with me. His face had struck me. He had one of those heroic heads, stamped with the seal of warfare5, and on which the battles of Napoleon are written. Besides, he had that frank, good-humored expression which always impresses me favorably. He was without doubt one of those troopers who are surprised at nothing, who find matter for laughter in the contortions6 of a dying comrade, who bury or plunder7 him quite light-heartedly, who stand intrepidly8 in the way of bullets;—in fact, one of those men who waste no time in deliberation, and would not hesitate to make friends with the devil himself. After looking very attentively9 at the proprietor10 of the menagerie getting out of his box, my companion pursed up his lips with an air of mockery and contempt, with that peculiar12 and expressive13 twist which superior people assume to show they are not taken in. Then, when I was expatiating14 on the courage of M. Martin, he smiled, shook his head knowingly, and said, ‘Well known.’
“‘How “well known”?’ I said. ‘If you would only explain me the mystery, I should be vastly obliged.’
“After a few minutes, during which we made acquaintance, we went to dine at the first restauranteur’s whose shop caught our eye. At dessert a bottle of champagne15 completely refreshed and brightened up the memories of this odd old soldier. He told me his story, and I saw that he was right when he exclaimed, ‘Well known.’”
When she got home, she teased me to that extent, was so charming, and made so many promises, that I consented to communicate to her the confidences of the old soldier. Next day she received the following episode of an epic17 which one might call “The French in Egypt.”
During the expedition in Upper Egypt under General Desaix, a Provencal soldier fell into the hands of the Maugrabins, and was taken by these Arabs into the deserts beyond the falls of the Nile.
In order to place a sufficient distance between themselves and the French army, the Maugrabins made forced marches, and only halted when night was upon them. They camped round a well overshadowed by palm trees under which they had previously18 concealed19 a store of provisions. Not surmising20 that the notion of flight would occur to their prisoner, they contented21 themselves with binding22 his hands, and after eating a few dates, and giving provender23 to their horses, went to sleep.
When the brave Provencal saw that his enemies were no longer watching him, he made use of his teeth to steal a scimiter, fixed24 the blade between his knees, and cut the cords which prevented him from using his hands; in a moment he was free. He at once seized a rifle and a dagger25, then taking the precautions to provide himself with a sack of dried dates, oats, and powder and shot, and to fasten a scimiter to his waist, he leaped on to a horse, and spurred on vigorously in the direction where he thought to find the French army. So impatient was he to see a bivouac again that he pressed on the already tired courser at such speed, that its flanks were lacerated with his spurs, and at last the poor animal died, leaving the Frenchman alone in the desert. After walking some time in the sand with all the courage of an escaped convict, the soldier was obliged to stop, as the day had already ended. In spite of the beauty of an Oriental sky at night, he felt he had not strength enough to go on. Fortunately he had been able to find a small hill, on the summit of which a few palm trees shot up into the air; it was their verdure seen from afar which had brought hope and consolation26 to his heart. His fatigue27 was so great that he lay down upon a rock of granite28, capriciously cut out like a camp-bed; there he fell asleep without taking any precaution to defend himself while he slept. He had made the sacrifice of his life. His last thought was one of regret. He repented29 having left the Maugrabins, whose nomadic30 life seemed to smile upon him now that he was far from them and without help. He was awakened31 by the sun, whose pitiless rays fell with all their force on the granite and produced an intolerable heat—for he had had the stupidity to place himself adversely32 to the shadow thrown by the verdant33 majestic34 heads of the palm trees. He looked at the solitary35 trees and shuddered37—they reminded him of the graceful38 shafts39 crowned with foliage40 which characterize the Saracen columns in the cathedral of Arles.
But when, after counting the palm trees, he cast his eyes around him, the most horrible despair was infused into his soul. Before him stretched an ocean without limit. The dark sand of the desert spread further than eye could reach in every direction, and glittered like steel struck with bright light. It might have been a sea of looking-glass, or lakes melted together in a mirror. A fiery41 vapor42 carried up in surging waves made a perpetual whirlwind over the quivering land. The sky was lit with an Oriental splendor43 of insupportable purity, leaving naught44 for the imagination to desire. Heaven and earth were on fire.
The silence was awful in its wild and terrible majesty45. Infinity46, immensity, closed in upon the soul from every side. Not a cloud in the sky, not a breath in the air, not a flaw on the bosom47 of the sand, ever moving in diminutive48 waves; the horizon ended as at sea on a clear day, with one line of light, definite as the cut of a sword.
The Provencal threw his arms round the trunk of one of the palm trees, as though it were the body of a friend, and then, in the shelter of the thin, straight shadow that the palm cast upon the granite, he wept. Then sitting down he remained as he was, contemplating49 with profound sadness the implacable scene, which was all he had to look upon. He cried aloud, to measure the solitude50. His voice, lost in the hollows of the hill, sounded faintly, and aroused no echo—the echo was in his own heart. The Provencal was twenty-two years old:—he loaded his carbine.
“There’ll be time enough,” he said to himself, laying on the ground the weapon which alone could bring him deliverance.
Viewing alternately the dark expanse of the desert and the blue expanse of the sky, the soldier dreamed of France—he smelled with delight the gutters51 of Paris—he remembered the towns through which he had passed, the faces of his comrades, the most minute details of his life. His Southern fancy soon showed him the stones of his beloved Provence, in the play of the heat which undulated above the wide expanse of the desert. Realizing the danger of this cruel mirage52, he went down the opposite side of the hill to that by which he had come up the day before. The remains53 of a rug showed that this place of refuge had at one time been inhabited; at a short distance he saw some palm trees full of dates. Then the instinct which binds54 us to life awoke again in his heart. He hoped to live long enough to await the passing of some Maugrabins, or perhaps he might hear the sound of cannon55; for at this time Bonaparte was traversing Egypt.
This thought gave him new life. The palm tree seemed to bend with the weight of the ripe fruit. He shook some of it down. When he tasted this unhoped-for manna, he felt sure that the palms had been cultivated by a former inhabitant—the savory56, fresh meat of the dates were proof of the care of his predecessor57. He passed suddenly from dark despair to an almost insane joy. He went up again to the top of the hill, and spent the rest of the day in cutting down one of the sterile58 palm trees, which the night before had served him for shelter. A vague memory made him think of the animals of the desert; and in case they might come to drink at the spring, visible from the base of the rocks but lost further down, he resolved to guard himself from their visits by placing a barrier at the entrance of his hermitage.
In spite of his diligence, and the strength which the fear of being devoured59 asleep gave him, he was unable to cut the palm in pieces, though he succeeded in cutting it down. At eventide the king of the desert fell; the sound of its fall resounded61 far and wide, like a sigh in the solitude; the soldier shuddered as though he had heard some voice predicting woe62.
But like an heir who does not long bewail a deceased relative, he tore off from this beautiful tree the tall broad green leaves which are its poetic63 adornment64, and used them to mend the mat on which he was to sleep.
In the middle of the night his sleep was troubled by an extraordinary noise; he sat up, and the deep silence around allowed him to distinguish the alternative accents of a respiration66 whose savage67 energy could not belong to a human creature.
A profound terror, increased still further by the darkness, the silence, and his waking images, froze his heart within him. He almost felt his hair stand on end, when by straining his eyes to their utmost he perceived through the shadow two faint yellow lights. At first he attributed these lights to the reflections of his own pupils, but soon the vivid brilliance68 of the night aided him gradually to distinguish the objects around him in the cave, and he beheld69 a huge animal lying but two steps from him. Was it a lion, a tiger, or a crocodile?
The Provencal was not sufficiently70 educated to know under what species his enemy ought to be classed; but his fright was all the greater, as his ignorance led him to imagine all terrors at once; he endured a cruel torture, noting every variation of the breathing close to him without daring to make the slightest movement. An odor, pungent71 like that of a fox, but more penetrating72, more profound,—so to speak,—filled the cave, and when the Provencal became sensible of this, his terror reached its height, for he could no longer doubt the proximity73 of a terrible companion, whose royal dwelling74 served him for a shelter.
Presently the reflection of the moon descending75 on the horizon lit up the den16, rendering76 gradually visible and resplendent the spotted77 skin of a panther.
This lion of Egypt slept, curled up like a big dog, the peaceful possessor of a sumptuous78 niche79 at the gate of an hotel; its eyes opened for a moment and closed again; its face was turned towards the man. A thousand confused thoughts passed through the Frenchman’s mind; first he thought of killing80 it with a bullet from his gun, but he saw there was not enough distance between them for him to take proper aim—the shot would miss the mark. And if it were to wake!—the thought made his limbs rigid81. He listened to his own heart beating in the midst of the silence, and cursed the too violent pulsations which the flow of blood brought on, fearing to disturb that sleep which allowed him time to think of some means of escape.
Twice he placed his hand on his scimiter, intending to cut off the head of his enemy; but the difficulty of cutting the stiff short hair compelled him to abandon this daring project. To miss would be to die for CERTAIN, he thought; he preferred the chances of fair fight, and made up his mind to wait till morning; the morning did not leave him long to wait.
“She’s had a good dinner,” he thought, without troubling himself as to whether her feast might have been on human flesh. “She won’t be hungry when she gets up.”
It was a female. The fur on her belly84 and flanks was glistening85 white; many small marks like velvet86 formed beautiful bracelets87 round her feet; her sinuous88 tail was also white, ending with black rings; the overpart of her dress, yellow like burnished89 gold, very lissome90 and soft, had the characteristic blotches91 in the form of rosettes, which distinguish the panther from every other feline92 species.
This tranquil93 and formidable hostess snored in an attitude as graceful as that of a cat lying on a cushion. Her blood-stained paws, nervous and well armed, were stretched out before her face, which rested upon them, and from which radiated her straight slender whiskers, like threads of silver.
If she had been like that in a cage, the Provencal would doubtless have admired the grace of the animal, and the vigorous contrasts of vivid color which gave her robe an imperial splendor; but just then his sight was troubled by her sinister94 appearance.
The presence of the panther, even asleep, could not fail to produce the effect which the magnetic eyes of the serpent are said to have on the nightingale.
For a moment the courage of the soldier began to fail before this danger, though no doubt it would have risen at the mouth of a cannon charged with shell. Nevertheless, a bold thought brought daylight to his soul and sealed up the source of the cold sweat which sprang forth95 on his brow. Like men driven to bay, who defy death and offer their body to the smiter96, so he, seeing in this merely a tragic98 episode, resolved to play his part with honor to the last.
“The day before yesterday the Arabs would have killed me, perhaps,” he said; so considering himself as good as dead already, he waited bravely, with excited curiosity, the awakening99 of his enemy.
When the sun appeared, the panther suddenly opened her eyes; then she put out her paws with energy, as if to stretch them and get rid of cramp100. At last she yawned, showing the formidable apparatus101 of her teeth and pointed102 tongue, rough as a file.
“A regular petite maitresse,” thought the Frenchman, seeing her roll herself about so softly and coquettishly. She licked off the blood which stained her paws and muzzle, and scratched her head with reiterated103 gestures full of prettiness. “All right, make a little toilet,” the Frenchman said to himself, beginning to recover his gaiety with his courage; “we’ll say good morning to each other presently;” and he seized the small, short dagger which he had taken from the Maugrabins.
At this moment the panther turned her head toward the man and looked at him fixedly104 without moving. The rigidity105 of her metallic106 eyes and their insupportable luster107 made him shudder36, especially when the animal walked towards him. But he looked at her caressingly109, staring into her eyes in order to magnetize her, and let her come quite close to him; then with a movement both gentle and amorous111, as though he were caressing110 the most beautiful of women, he passed his hand over her whole body, from the head to the tail, scratching the flexible vertebrae which divided the panther’s yellow back. The animal waved her tail voluptuously112, and her eyes grew gentle; and when for the third time the Frenchman accomplished113 this interesting flattery, she gave forth one of those purrings by which cats express their pleasure; but this murmur114 issued from a throat so powerful and so deep that it resounded through the cave like the last vibrations115 of an organ in a church. The man, understanding the importance of his caresses116, redoubled them in such a way as to surprise and stupefy his imperious courtesan. When he felt sure of having extinguished the ferocity of his capricious companion, whose hunger had so fortunately been satisfied the day before, he got up to go out of the cave; the panther let him go out, but when he had reached the summit of the hill she sprang with the lightness of a sparrow hopping117 from twig118 to twig, and rubbed herself against his legs, putting up her back after the manner of all the race of cats. Then regarding her guest with eyes whose glare had softened119 a little, she gave vent to that wild cry which naturalists120 compare to the grating of a saw.
“She is exacting,” said the Frenchman, smilingly.
He was bold enough to play with her ears; he caressed121 her belly and scratched her head as hard as he could. When he saw that he was successful, he tickled122 her skull123 with the point of his dagger, watching for the right moment to kill her, but the hardness of her bones made him tremble for his success.
The sultana of the desert showed herself gracious to her slave; she lifted her head, stretched out her neck and manifested her delight by the tranquility of her attitude. It suddenly occurred to the soldier that to kill this savage princess with one blow he must poniard her in the throat.
He raised the blade, when the panther, satisfied no doubt, laid herself gracefully124 at his feet, and cast up at him glances in which, in spite of their natural fierceness, was mingled125 confusedly a kind of good will. The poor Provencal ate his dates, leaning against one of the palm trees, and casting his eyes alternately on the desert in quest of some liberator126 and on his terrible companion to watch her uncertain clemency127.
The panther looked at the place where the date stones fell, and every time that he threw one down her eyes expressed an incredible mistrust.
She examined the man with an almost commercial prudence128. However, this examination was favorable to him, for when he had finished his meager129 meal she licked his boots with her powerful rough tongue, brushing off with marvelous skill the dust gathered in the creases130.
“Ah, but when she’s really hungry!” thought the Frenchman. In spite of the shudder this thought caused him, the soldier began to measure curiously131 the proportions of the panther, certainly one of the most splendid specimens132 of its race. She was three feet high and four feet long without counting her tail; this powerful weapon, rounded like a cudgel, was nearly three feet long. The head, large as that of a lioness, was distinguished133 by a rare expression of refinement134. The cold cruelty of a tiger was dominant135, it was true, but there was also a vague resemblance to the face of a sensual woman. Indeed, the face of this solitary queen had something of the gaiety of a drunken Nero: she had satiated herself with blood, and she wanted to play.
The soldier tried if he might walk up and down, and the panther left him free, contenting herself with following him with her eyes, less like a faithful dog than a big Angora cat, observing everything and every movement of her master.
When he looked around, he saw, by the spring, the remains of his horse; the panther had dragged the carcass all that way; about two thirds of it had been devoured already. The sight reassured136 him.
It was easy to explain the panther’s absence, and the respect she had had for him while he slept. The first piece of good luck emboldened137 him to tempt11 the future, and he conceived the wild hope of continuing on good terms with the panther during the entire day, neglecting no means of taming her, and remaining in her good graces.
He returned to her, and had the unspeakable joy of seeing her wag her tail with an almost imperceptible movement at his approach. He sat down then, without fear, by her side, and they began to play together; he took her paws and muzzle, pulled her ears, rolled her over on her back, stroked her warm, delicate flanks. She let him do what ever he liked, and when he began to stroke the hair on her feet she drew her claws in carefully.
The man, keeping the dagger in one hand, thought to plunge138 it into the belly of the too confiding139 panther, but he was afraid that he would be immediately strangled in her last convulsive struggle; besides, he felt in his heart a sort of remorse140 which bid him respect a creature that had done him no harm. He seemed to have found a friend, in a boundless141 desert; half unconsciously he thought of his first sweetheart, whom he had nicknamed “Mignonne” by way of contrast, because she was so atrociously jealous that all the time of their love he was in fear of the knife with which she had always threatened him.
This memory of his early days suggested to him the idea of making the young panther answer to this name, now that he began to admire with less terror her swiftness, suppleness143, and softness. Toward the end of the day he had familiarized himself with his perilous144 position; he now almost liked the painfulness of it. At last his companion had got into the habit of looking up at him whenever he cried in a falsetto voice, “Mignonne.”
At the setting of the sun Mignonne gave, several times running, a profound melancholy145 cry. “She’s been well brought up,” said the lighthearted soldier; “she says her prayers.” But this mental joke only occurred to him when he noticed what a pacific attitude his companion remained in. “Come, ma petite blonde, I’ll let you go to bed first,” he said to her, counting on the activity of his own legs to run away as quickly as possible, directly she was asleep, and seek another shelter for the night.
The soldier waited with impatience146 the hour of his flight, and when it had arrived he walked vigorously in the direction of the Nile; but hardly had he made a quarter of a league in the sand when he heard the panther bounding after him, crying with that saw-like cry more dreadful even than the sound of her leaping.
“Ah!” he said, “then she’s taken a fancy to me, she has never met anyone before, and it is really quite flattering to have her first love.” That instant the man fell into one of those movable quicksands so terrible to travelers and from which it is impossible to save oneself. Feeling himself caught, he gave a shriek147 of alarm; the panther seized him with her teeth by the collar, and, springing vigorously backwards148, drew him as if by magic out of the whirling sand.
“Ah, Mignonne!” cried the soldier, caressing her enthusiastically; “we’re bound together for life and death but no jokes, mind!” and he retraced149 his steps.
From that time the desert seemed inhabited. It contained a being to whom the man could talk, and whose ferocity was rendered gentle by him, though he could not explain to himself the reason for their strange friendship. Great as was the soldier’s desire to stay upon guard, he slept.
On awakening he could not find Mignonne; he mounted the hill, and in the distance saw her springing toward him after the habit of these animals, who cannot run on account of the extreme flexibility150 of the vertebral column. Mignonne arrived, her jaws151 covered with blood; she received the wonted caress108 of her companion, showing with much purring how happy it made her. Her eyes, full of languor152, turned still more gently than the day before toward the Provencal, who talked to her as one would to a tame animal.
“Ah! mademoiselle, you are a nice girl, aren’t you? Just look at that! So we like to be made much of, don’t we? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? So you have been eating some Arab or other, have you? That doesn’t matter. They’re animals just the same as you are; but don’t you take to eating Frenchmen, or I shan’t like you any longer.”
She played like a dog with its master, letting herself be rolled over, knocked about, and stroked, alternately; sometimes she herself would provoke the soldier, putting up her paw with a soliciting153 gesture.
Some days passed in this manner. This companionship permitted the Provencal to appreciate the sublime154 beauty of the desert; now that he had a living thing to think about, alternations of fear and quiet, and plenty to eat, his mind became filled with contrast and his life began to be diversified155.
Solitude revealed to him all her secrets, and enveloped156 him in her delights. He discovered in the rising and setting of the sun sights unknown to the world. He knew what it was to tremble when he heard over his head the hiss157 of a bird’s wing, so rarely did they pass, or when he saw the clouds, changing and many colored travelers, melt one into another. He studied in the night time the effect of the moon upon the ocean of sand, where the simoom made waves swift of movement and rapid in their change. He lived the life of the Eastern day, marveling at its wonderful pomp; then, after having reveled in the sight of a hurricane over the plain where the whirling sands made red, dry mists and death-bearing clouds, he would welcome the night with joy, for then fell the healthful freshness of the stars, and he listened to imaginary music in the skies. Then solitude taught him to unroll the treasures of dreams. He passed whole hours in remembering mere97 nothings, and comparing his present life with his past.
At last he grew passionately158 fond of the panther; for some sort of affection was a necessity.
Whether it was that his will powerfully projected had modified the character of his companion, or whether, because she found abundant food in her predatory excursions in the desert, she respected the man’s life, he began to fear for it no longer, seeing her so well tamed.
He devoted159 the greater part of his time to sleep, but he was obliged to watch like a spider in its web that the moment of his deliverance might not escape him, if anyone should pass the line marked by the horizon. He had sacrificed his shirt to make a flag with, which he hung at the top of a palm tree, whose foliage he had torn off. Taught by necessity, he found the means of keeping it spread out, by fastening it with little sticks; for the wind might not be blowing at the moment when the passing traveler was looking through the desert.
It was during the long hours, when he had abandoned hope, that he amused himself with the panther. He had come to learn the different inflections of her voice, the expressions of her eyes; he had studied the capricious patterns of all the rosettes which marked the gold of her robe. Mignonne was not even angry when he took hold of the tuft at the end of her tail to count her rings, those graceful ornaments160 which glittered in the sun like jewelry161. It gave him pleasure to contemplate162 the supple142, fine outlines of her form, the whiteness of her belly, the graceful pose of her head. But it was especially when she was playing that he felt most pleasure in looking at her; the agility163 and youthful lightness of her movements were a continual surprise to him; he wondered at the supple way in which she jumped and climbed, washed herself and arranged her fur, crouched164 down and prepared to spring. However rapid her spring might be, however slippery the stone she was on, she would always stop short at the word “Mignonne.”
One day, in a bright midday sun, an enormous bird coursed through the air. The man left his panther to look at his new guest; but after waiting a moment the deserted165 sultana growled166 deeply.
“My goodness! I do believe she’s jealous,” he cried, seeing her eyes become hard again; “the soul of Virginie has passed into her body; that’s certain.”
The eagle disappeared into the air, while the soldier admired the curved contour of the panther.
But there was such youth and grace in her form! she was beautiful as a woman! the blond fur of her robe mingled well with the delicate tints167 of faint white which marked her flanks.
The profuse168 light cast down by the sun made this living gold, these russet markings, to burn in a way to give them an indefinable attraction.
The man and the panther looked at one another with a look full of meaning; the coquette quivered when she felt her friend stroke her head; her eyes flashed like lightning—then she shut them tightly.
“She has a soul,” he said, looking at the stillness of this queen of the sands, golden like them, white like them, solitary and burning like them.
“Well,” she said, “I have read your plea in favor of beasts; but how did two so well adapted to understand each other end?”
“Ah, well! you see, they ended as all great passions do end—by a misunderstanding. For some reason ONE suspects the other of treason; they don’t come to an explanation through pride, and quarrel and part from sheer obstinacy169.”
“Yet sometimes at the best moments a single word or a look is enough—but anyhow go on with your story.”
“It’s horribly difficult, but you will understand, after what the old villain170 told me over his champagne. He said—‘I don’t know if I hurt her, but she turned round, as if enraged171, and with her sharp teeth caught hold of my leg—gently, I daresay; but I, thinking she would devour60 me, plunged172 my dagger into her throat. She rolled over, giving a cry that froze my heart; and I saw her dying, still looking at me without anger. I would have given all the world—my cross even, which I had not got then—to have brought her to life again. It was as though I had murdered a real person; and the soldiers who had seen my flag, and were come to my assistance, found me in tears.’
“‘Well sir,’ he said, after a moment of silence, ‘since then I have been in war in Germany, in Spain, in Russia, in France; I’ve certainly carried my carcase about a good deal, but never have I seen anything like the desert. Ah! yes, it is very beautiful!’
“‘What did you feel there?’ I asked him.
“‘Oh! that can’t be described, young man! Besides, I am not always regretting my palm trees and my panther. I should have to be very melancholy for that. In the desert, you see, there is everything and nothing.’
“‘Yes, but explain——’
“‘Well,’ he said, with an impatient gesture, ‘it is God without mankind.’”
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vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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2
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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contortions
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| n.扭歪，弯曲；扭曲，弄歪，歪曲( contortion的名词复数 ) | |
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7
plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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intrepidly
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| adv.无畏地，勇猛地 | |
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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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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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expatiating
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| v.详述，细说( expatiate的现在分词 ) | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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epic
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| n.史诗，叙事诗；adj.史诗般的，壮丽的 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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surmising
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的现在分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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21
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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22
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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23
provender
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| n.刍草；秣料 | |
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24
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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25
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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26
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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27
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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28
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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29
repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
nomadic
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| adj.流浪的；游牧的 | |
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31
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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32
adversely
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| ad.有害地 | |
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33
verdant
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| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
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34
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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35
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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36
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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37
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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38
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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39
shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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40
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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41
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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42
vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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43
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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44
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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45
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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46
infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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47
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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48
diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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49
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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50
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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51
gutters
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| （路边）排水沟( gutter的名词复数 )； 阴沟； （屋顶的）天沟； 贫贱的境地 | |
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52
mirage
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| n.海市蜃楼，幻景 | |
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53
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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54
binds
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| v.约束( bind的第三人称单数 )；装订；捆绑；（用长布条）缠绕 | |
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55
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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56
savory
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| adj.风味极佳的，可口的，味香的 | |
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57
predecessor
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| n.前辈，前任 | |
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58
sterile
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| adj.不毛的，不孕的，无菌的，枯燥的，贫瘠的 | |
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59
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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60
devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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61
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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62
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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63
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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64
adornment
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| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
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65
fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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66
respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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67
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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68
brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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69
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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70
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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71
pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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72
penetrating
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|
| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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73
proximity
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|
| n.接近，邻近 | |
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74
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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75
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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76
rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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77
spotted
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|
| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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78
sumptuous
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|
| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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79
niche
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|
| n.壁龛；合适的职务(环境、位置等) | |
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80
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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81
rigid
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|
| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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82
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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83
smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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84
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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85
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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86
velvet
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|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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87
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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88
sinuous
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|
| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
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89
burnished
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|
| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
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90
lissome
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|
| adj.柔软的；敏捷的 | |
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91
blotches
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| n.（皮肤上的）红斑，疹块( blotch的名词复数 )；大滴 [大片]（墨水或颜色的）污渍 | |
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92
feline
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| adj.猫科的 | |
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93
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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94
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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95
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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96
smiter
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| 打击者 | |
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97
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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98
tragic
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|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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99
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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100
cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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101
apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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102
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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103
reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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105
rigidity
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| adj.钢性，坚硬 | |
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106
metallic
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|
| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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107
luster
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|
| n.光辉；光泽，光亮；荣誉 | |
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108
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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109
caressingly
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| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
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110
caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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111
amorous
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| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
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112
voluptuously
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| adv.风骚地，体态丰满地 | |
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113
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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114
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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115
vibrations
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| n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 )；震动；感受；（偏离平衡位置的）一次性往复振动 | |
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116
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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117
hopping
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| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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118
twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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119
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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120
naturalists
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| n.博物学家( naturalist的名词复数 )；（文学艺术的）自然主义者 | |
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121
caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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122
tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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123
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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124
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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125
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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126
liberator
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| 解放者 | |
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127
clemency
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| n.温和，仁慈，宽厚 | |
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128
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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129
meager
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| adj.缺乏的，不足的，瘦的 | |
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130
creases
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的第三人称单数 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹 | |
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131
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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132
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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133
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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134
refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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135
dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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136
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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137
emboldened
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| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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138
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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139
confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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140
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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141
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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142
supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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143
suppleness
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| 柔软； 灵活； 易弯曲； 顺从 | |
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144
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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145
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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146
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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147
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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148
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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149
retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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150
flexibility
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| n.柔韧性，弹性，（光的）折射性，灵活性 | |
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151
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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152
languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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153
soliciting
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| v.恳求( solicit的现在分词 )；（指娼妇）拉客；索求；征求 | |
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154
sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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155
diversified
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| adj.多样化的，多种经营的v.使多样化，多样化( diversify的过去式和过去分词 )；进入新的商业领域 | |
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156
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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157
hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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158
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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159
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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160
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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161
jewelry
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| n.（jewllery）（总称）珠宝 | |
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162
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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163
agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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164
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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165
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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166
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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167
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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168
profuse
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| adj.很多的，大量的，极其丰富的 | |
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169
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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170
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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171
enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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172
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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