Her outfit4, on the backs of a dozen Indians and in charge of Del Bishop5, had got under way hours before. The previous day, on her return with Matt McCarthy from the Siwash camp, she had found Del Bishop at the store waiting her. His business was quickly transacted6, for the proposition he made was terse7 and to the point. She was going into the country. He was intending to go in. She would need somebody. If she had not picked any one yet, why he was just the man. He had forgotten to tell her the day he took her ashore8 that he had been in the country years before and knew all about it. True, he hated the water, and it was mainly a water journey; but he was not afraid of it. He was afraid of nothing. Further, he would fight for her at the drop of the hat. As for pay, when they got to Dawson, a good word from her to Jacob Welse, and a year's outfit would be his. No, no; no grub-stake about it, no strings10 on him! He would pay for the outfit later on when his sack was dusted. What did she think about it, anyway? And Frona did think about it, for ere she had finished breakfast he was out hustling11 the packers together.
She found herself making better speed than the majority of her fellows, who were heavily laden12 and had to rest their packs every few hundred yards. Yet she found herself hard put to keep the pace of a bunch of Scandinavians ahead of her. They were huge strapping14 blond-haired giants, each striding along with a hundred pounds on his back, and all harnessed to a go-cart which carried fully15 six hundred more. Their faces were as laughing suns, and the joy of life was in them. The toil16 seemed child's play and slipped from them lightly. They joked with one another, and with the passers-by, in a meaningless tongue, and their great chests rumbled17 with cavern-echoing laughs. Men stood aside for them, and looked after them enviously18; for they took the rises of the trail on the run, and rattled19 down the counter slopes, and ground the iron-rimmed wheels harshly over the rocks. Plunging20 through a dark stretch of woods, they came out upon the river at the ford21. A drowned man lay on his back on the sand-bar, staring upward, unblinking, at the sun. A man, in irritated tones, was questioning over and over, "Where's his pardner? Ain't he got a pardner?" Two more men had thrown off their packs and were coolly taking an inventory22 of the dead man's possessions. One called aloud the various articles, while the other checked them off on a piece of dirty wrapping-paper. Letters and receipts, wet and pulpy23, strewed24 the sand. A few gold coins were heaped carelessly on a white handkerchief. Other men, crossing back and forth25 in canoes and skiffs, took no notice.
The Scandinavians glanced at the sight, and their faces sobered for a moment. "Where's his pardner? Ain't he got a pardner?" the irritated man demanded of them. They shook their heads. They did not understand English. They stepped into the water and splashed onward26. Some one called warningly from the opposite bank, whereat they stood still and conferred together. Then they started on again. The two men taking the inventory turned to watch. The current rose nigh to their hips27, but it was swift and they staggered, while now and again the cart slipped sideways with the stream. The worst was over, and Frona found herself holding her breath. The water had sunk to the knees of the two foremost men, when a strap13 snapped on one nearest the cart. His pack swung suddenly to the side, overbalancing him. At the same instant the man next to him slipped, and each jerked the other under. The next two were whipped off their feet, while the cart, turning over, swept from the bottom of the ford into the deep water. The two men who had almost emerged threw themselves backward on the pull-ropes. The effort was heroic, but giants though they were, the task was too great and they were dragged, inch by inch, downward and under.
Their packs held them to the bottom, save him whose strap had broken. This one struck out, not to the shore, but down the stream, striving to keep up with his comrades. A couple of hundred feet below, the rapid dashed over a toothed-reef of rocks, and here, a minute later, they appeared. The cart, still loaded, showed first, smashing a wheel and turning over and over into the next plunge29. The men followed in a miserable30 tangle31. They were beaten against the submerged rocks and swept on, all but one. Frona, in a canoe (a dozen canoes were already in pursuit), saw him grip the rock with bleeding fingers. She saw his white face and the agony of the effort; but his hold relaxed and he was jerked away, just as his free comrade, swimming mightily32, was reaching for him. Hidden from sight, they took the next plunge, showing for a second, still struggling, at the shallow foot of the rapid.
A canoe picked up the swimming man, but the rest disappeared in a long stretch of swift, deep water. For a quarter of an hour the canoes plied33 fruitlessly about, then found the dead men gently grounded in an eddy34. A tow-rope was requisitioned from an up-coming boat, and a pair of horses from a pack-train on the bank, and the ghastly jetsam hauled ashore. Frona looked at the five young giants lying in the mud, broken-boned, limp, uncaring. They were still harnessed to the cart, and the poor worthless packs still clung to their backs, The sixth sat in the midst, dry-eyed and stunned35. A dozen feet away the steady flood of life flowed by and Frona melted into it and went on.
The dark spruce-shrouded mountains drew close together in the Dyea Canyon36, and the feet of men churned the wet sunless earth into mire37 and bog-hole. And when they had done this they sought new paths, till there were many paths. And on such a path Frona came upon a man spread carelessly in the mud. He lay on his side, legs apart and one arm buried beneath him, pinned down by a bulky pack. His cheek was pillowed restfully in the ooze38, and on his face there was an expression of content. He brightened when he saw her, and his eyes twinkled cheerily.
"That's it," as Frona bent39 over him. "Just unbuckle that strap. The pesky thing! 'Twas just out o' my reach all the time."
"Are you hurt?" she asked.
He slipped out of his straps41, shook himself, and felt the twisted arm. "Nope. Sound as a dollar, thank you. And no kick to register, either." He reached over and wiped his muddy hands on a low-bowed spruce. "Just my luck; but I got a good rest, so what's the good of makin' a beef about it? You see, I tripped on that little root there, and slip! slump42! slam! and slush!—there I was, down and out, and the buckle40 just out o' reach. And there I lay for a blasted hour, everybody hitting the lower path."
"But why didn't you call out to them?"
"And make 'em climb up the hill to me? Them all tuckered out with their own work? Not on your life! Wasn't serious enough. If any other man 'd make me climb up just because he'd slipped down, I'd take him out o' the mud all right, all right, and punch and punch him back into the mud again. Besides, I knew somebody was bound to come along my way after a while."
"Oh, you'll do!" she cried, appropriating Del Bishop's phrase. "You'll do for this country!"
"Yep," he called back, shouldering his pack and starting off at a lively clip. "And, anyway, I got a good rest."
The trail dipped through a precipitous morass43 to the river's brink44. A slender pine-tree spanned the screaming foam45 and bent midway to touch the water. The surge beat upon the taper46 trunk and gave it a rhythmical47 swaying motion, while the feet of the packers had worn smooth its wave-washed surface. Eighty feet it stretched in ticklish48 insecurity. Frona stepped upon it, felt it move beneath her, heard the bellowing49 of the water, saw the mad rush—and shrank back. She slipped the knot of her shoe-laces and pretended great care in the tying thereof as a bunch of Indians came out of the woods above and down through the mud. Three or four bucks50 led the way, followed by many squaws, all bending in the head-straps to the heavy packs. Behind came the children burdened according to their years, and in the rear half a dozen dogs, tongues lagging out and dragging forward painfully under their several loads.
The men glanced at her sideways, and one of them said something in an undertone. Frona could not hear, but the snicker which went down the line brought the flush of shame to her brow and told her more forcibly than could the words. Her face was hot, for she sat disgraced in her own sight; but she gave no sign. The leader stood aside, and one by one, and never more than one at a time, they made the perilous51 passage. At the bend in the middle their weight forced the tree under, and they felt for their footing, up to the ankles in the cold, driving torrent52. Even the little children made it without hesitancy, and then the dogs whining53 and reluctant but urged on by the man. When the last had crossed over, he turned to Frona.
"Um horse trail," he said, pointing up the mountain side. "Much better you take um horse trail. More far; much better."
But she shook her head and waited till he reached the farther bank; for she felt the call, not only upon her own pride, but upon the pride of her race; and it was a greater demand than her demand, just as the race was greater than she. So she put foot upon the log, and, with the eyes of the alien people upon her, walked down into the foam-white swirl54.
She came upon a man weeping by the side of the trail. His pack, clumsily strapped55, sprawled56 on the ground. He had taken off a shoe, and one naked foot showed swollen57 and blistered58.
"What is the matter?" she asked, halting before him.
He looked up at her, then down into the depths where the Dyea River cut the gloomy darkness with its living silver. The tears still welled in his eyes, and he sniffled.
"What is the matter?" she repeated. "Can I be of any help?"
"No," he replied. "How can you help? My feet are raw, and my back is nearly broken, and I am all tired out. Can you help any of these things?"
"Well," judiciously59, "I am sure it might be worse. Think of the men who have just landed on the beach. It will take them ten days or two weeks to back-trip their outfits60 as far as you have already got yours."
"But my partners have left me and gone on," he moaned, a sneaking61 appeal for pity in his voice. "And I am all alone, and I don't feel able to move another step. And then think of my wife and babies. I left them down in the States. Oh, if they could only see me now! I can't go back to them, and I can't go on. It's too much for me. I can't stand it, this working like a horse. I was not made to work like a horse. I'll die, I know I will, if I do. Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?"
"Why did your comrades leave you?"
"Because I was not so strong as they; because I could not pack as much or as long. And they laughed at me and left me."
"Have you ever roughed it?" Frona asked.
"No."
"You look well put up and strong. Weigh probably one hundred and sixty-five?"
"One hundred-and seventy," he corrected.
"You don't look as though you had ever been troubled with sickness.
"N-no."
"And your comrades? They are miners?"
"Never mining in their lives. They worked in the same establishment with me. That's what makes it so hard, don't you see! We'd known one another for years! And to go off and leave me just because I couldn't keep up!"
"My friend," and Frona knew she was speaking for the race, "you are strong as they. You can work just as hard as they; pack as much. But you are weak of heart. This is no place for the weak of heart. You cannot work like a horse because you will not. Therefore the country has no use for you. The north wants strong men,—strong of soul, not body. The body does not count. So go back to the States. We do not want you here. If you come you will die, and what then of| your wife and babies? So sell out your outfit and go back. You will be home in three weeks. Good-by."
She passed through Sheep Camp. Somewhere above, a mighty63 glacier64, under the pent pressure of a subterranean65 reservoir, had burst asunder66 and hurled67 a hundred thousand tons of ice and water down the rocky gorge68. The trail was yet slippery with the slime of the flood, and men were rummaging69 disconsolately70 in the rubbish of overthrown71 tents and caches. But here and there they worked with nervous haste, and the stark72 corpses73 by the trail-side attested74 dumbly to their labor75. A few hundred yards beyond, the work of the rush went on uninterrupted. Men rested their packs on jutting76 stones, swapped77 escapes whilst they regained78 their breath, then stumbled on to their toil again.
The mid-day sun beat down upon the stone "Scales." The forest had given up the struggle, and the dizzying heat recoiled79 from the unclothed rock. On either hand rose the ice-marred ribs80 of earth, naked and strenuous81 in their nakedness. Above towered storm-beaten Chilcoot. Up its gaunt and ragged28 front crawled a slender string of men. But it was an endless string. It came out of the last fringe of dwarfed82 shrub83 below, drew a black line across a dazzling stretch of ice, and filed past Frona where she ate her lunch by the way. And it went on, up the pitch of the steep, growing fainter and smaller, till it squirmed and twisted like a column of ants and vanished over the crest84 of the pass.
Even as she looked, Chilcoot was wrapped in rolling mist and whirling cloud, and a storm of sleet85 and wind roared down upon the toiling86 pigmies. The light was swept out of the day, and a deep gloom prevailed; but Frona knew that somewhere up there, clinging and climbing and immortally87 striving, the long line of ants still twisted towards the sky. And she thrilled at the thought, strong with man's ancient love of mastery, and stepped into the line which came out of the storm behind and disappeared into the storm before.
She blew through the gap of the pass in a whirlwind of vapor88, with hand and foot clambered down the volcanic89 ruin of Chilcoot's mighty father, and stood on the bleak90 edge of the lake which filled the pit of the crater91. The lake was angry and white-capped, and though a hundred caches were waiting ferriage, no boats were plying92 back and forth. A rickety skeleton of sticks, in a shell of greased canvas, lay upon the rocks. Frona sought out the owner, a bright-faced young fellow, with sharp black eyes and a salient jaw93. Yes, he was the ferryman, but he had quit work for the day. Water too rough for freighting. He charged twenty-five dollars for passengers, but he was not taking passengers to-day. Had he not said it was too rough? That was why.
"But you will take me, surely?" she asked.
He shook his head and gazed out over the lake. "At the far end it's rougher than you see it here. Even the big wooden boats won't tackle it. The last that tried, with a gang of packers aboard, was blown over on the west shore. We could see them plainly. And as there's no trail around from there, they'll have to camp it out till the blow is over."
"But they're better off than I am. My camp outfit is at Happy Camp, and I can't very well stay here," Frona smiled winsomely94, but there was no appeal in the smile; no feminine helplessness throwing itself on the strength and chivalry95 of the male. "Do reconsider and take me across."
"No."
"I'll give you fifty."
"No, I say."
"But I'm not afraid, you know."
The young fellow's eyes flashed angrily. He turned upon her suddenly, but on second thought did not utter the words forming on his lips. She realized the unintentional slur96 she had cast, and was about to explain. But on second thought she, too, remained silent; for she read him, and knew that it was perhaps the only way for her to gain her point. They stood there, bodies inclined to the storm in the manner of seamen97 on sloped decks, unyieldingly looking into each other's eyes. His hair was plastered in wet ringlets on his forehead, while hers, in longer wisps, beat furiously about her face.
"Come on, then!" He flung the boat into the water with an angry jerk, and tossed the oars98 aboard. "Climb in! I'll take you, but not for your fifty dollars. You pay the regulation price, and that's all."
A gust99 of the gale100 caught the light shell and swept it broadside for a score of feet. The spray drove inboard in a continuous stinging shower, and Frona at once fell to work with the bailing-can.
"I hope we're blown ashore," he shouted, stooping forward to the oars. "It would be embarrassing—for you." He looked up savagely101 into her face.
"No," she modified; "but it would be very miserable for both of us,—a night without tent, blankets, or fire. Besides, we're not going to blow ashore."
She stepped out on the slippery rocks and helped him heave up the canvas craft and tilt102 the water out. On either side uprose bare wet walls of rock. A heavy sleet was falling steadily103, through which a few streaming caches showed in the gathering104 darkness.
"You'd better hurry up," he advised, thanking her for the assistance
and relaunching the boat. "Two miles of stiff trail from here to Happy
Good-by."
Frona reached out and took his hand, and said, "You are a brave man."
A dozen tents held grimly to their pegs108 on the extreme edge of the timber line at Happy Camp. Frona, weary with the day, went from tent to tent. Her wet skirts clung heavily to her tired limbs, while the wind buffeted109 her brutally110 about. Once, through a canvas wall, she heard a man apostrophizing gorgeously, and felt sure that it was Del Bishop. But a peep into the interior told a different tale; so she wandered fruitlessly on till she reached the last tent in the camp. She untied111 the flap and looked in. A spluttering candle showed the one occupant, a man, down on his knees and blowing lustily into the fire-box of a smoky Yukon stove.
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1
satchel
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| n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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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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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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transacted
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| v.办理（业务等）( transact的过去式和过去分词 )；交易，谈判 | |
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terse
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| adj.(说话，文笔)精炼的，简明的 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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hustling
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| 催促（hustle的现在分词形式） | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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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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14
strapping
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| adj. 魁伟的, 身材高大健壮的 n. 皮绳或皮带的材料, 裹伤胶带, 皮鞭 动词strap的现在分词形式 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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enviously
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| adv.满怀嫉妒地 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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inventory
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| n.详细目录，存货清单 | |
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pulpy
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| 果肉状的，多汁的，柔软的； 烂糊； 稀烂 | |
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strewed
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| v.撒在…上( strew的过去式和过去分词 )；散落于；点缀；撒满 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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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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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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canyon
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| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
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mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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ooze
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| n.软泥，渗出物；vi.渗出，泄漏；vt.慢慢渗出，流露 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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42
slump
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| n.暴跌，意气消沉，（土地）下沉；vi.猛然掉落，坍塌，大幅度下跌 | |
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morass
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| n.沼泽，困境 | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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47
rhythmical
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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48
ticklish
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| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
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49
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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50
bucks
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| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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51
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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52
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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53
whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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54
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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55
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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56
sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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57
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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58
blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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59
judiciously
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| adv.明断地，明智而审慎地 | |
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60
outfits
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| n.全套装备( outfit的名词复数 )；一套服装；集体；组织v.装备，配置设备，供给服装( outfit的第三人称单数 ) | |
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61
sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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62
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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64
glacier
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| n.冰川，冰河 | |
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65
subterranean
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| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
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66
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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67
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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68
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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69
rummaging
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的现在分词 )； 海关检查 | |
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70
disconsolately
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| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
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overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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72
stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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73
corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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74
attested
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| adj.经检验证明无病的，经检验证明无菌的v.证明( attest的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；声称…属实；使宣誓 | |
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75
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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76
jutting
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| v.（使）突出( jut的现在分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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swapped
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| 交换（工作）( swap的过去式和过去分词 )； 用…替换，把…换成，掉换（过来） | |
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78
regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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80
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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81
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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82
dwarfed
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| vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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83
shrub
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| n.灌木，灌木丛 | |
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84
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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85
sleet
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| n.雨雪；v.下雨雪，下冰雹 | |
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86
toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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immortally
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| 不朽地，永世地，无限地 | |
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vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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volcanic
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| adj.火山的；象火山的；由火山引起的 | |
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90
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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crater
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| n.火山口，弹坑 | |
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92
plying
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的现在分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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winsomely
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95
chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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96
slur
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| v.含糊地说；诋毁；连唱；n.诋毁；含糊的发音 | |
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97
seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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98
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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99
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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100
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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101
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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102
tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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103
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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104
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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105
hustle
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| v.推搡；竭力兜售或获取；催促；n.奔忙(碌) | |
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106
usury
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| n.高利贷 | |
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107
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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108
pegs
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| n.衣夹( peg的名词复数 )；挂钉；系帐篷的桩；弦钮v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的第三人称单数 )；使固定在某水平 | |
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109
buffeted
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| 反复敲打( buffet的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续猛击； 打来打去； 推来搡去 | |
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110
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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111
untied
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| 松开，解开( untie的过去式和过去分词 )； 解除，使自由； 解决 | |
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