章节正文
toward the right and circling around her. She kept her eyes on the fin and
swam on. When the fin disappeared, she lay face downward in the water and
watched. When the fin reappeared she resumed her swimming. The monster was
lazy--she could see that. Without doubt he had been well fed since the
hurricane. Had he been very hungry, she knew he would not have hesitated from
making a dash for her. He was fifteen feet long, and one bite, she knew, could
cut her in half.
But she did not have any time to waste on him. Whether she swam or not, the
current drew away from the land just the same. A half hour went by, and the
shark began to grow bolder. Seeing no harm in her he drew closer, in narrowing
circles, cocking his eyes at her impudently as he slid past. Sooner or later,
she knew well enough, he would get up sufficient courage to dash at her. She
resolved to play first. It was a desperate act she meditated. She was an old
woman, alone in the sea and weak from starvation and hardship; and yet she, in
the face of this sea tiger, must anticipate his dash by herself dashing at
him. She swam on, waiting her chance. At last he passed languidly by, barely
eight feet away. She rushed at him suddenly, feigning that she was attacking
him. He gave a wild flirt of his tail as he fled away, and his sandpaper hide,
striking her, took off her skin from elbow to shoulder. He swam rapidly, in a
widening circle, and at last disappeared.
In the hole in the sand, covered over by fragments of metal roofing, Mapuhi
and Tefara lay disputing.
"If you had done as I said," charged Tefara, for the thousandth time, "and
hidden the pearl and told no one, you would have it now."
"But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened the shell--have I not told you so
times and times and times without end?"
"And now we shall have no house. Raoul told me today that if you had not sold
the pearl to Toriki--"
"I did not sell it. Toriki robbed me."
"--that if you had not sold the pearl, he would give you five thousand French
dollars, which is ten thousand Chili."
"He has been talking to his mother," Mapuhi explained. "She has an eye for a
pearl."
"And now the pearl is lost," Tefara complained.
"It paid my debt with Toriki. That is twelve hundred I have made, anyway."
"Toriki is dead," she cried. "They have heard no word of his schooner. She was
lost along with the Aorai and the Hira. Will Toriki pay you the three hundred
credit he promised? No, because Toriki is dead. And had you found no pearl,
would you today owe Toriki the twelve hundred? No, because Toriki is dead, and
you cannot pay dead men."
"But Levy did not pay Toriki," Mapuhi said. "He gave him a piece of paper that
was good for the money in Papeete; and now Levy is dead and cannot pay; and
Toriki is dead and the paper lost with him, and the pearl is lost with Levy.
You are right, Tefara. I have lost the pearl, and got nothing for it. Now let
us sleep."
He held up his hand suddenly and listened. From without came a noise, as of
one who breathed heavily and with pain. A hand fumbled against the mat that
served for a door.
"Who is there?" Mapuhi cried.
"Nauri," came the answer. "Can you tell me where is my son, Mapuhi?"
Tefara screamed and gripped her husband's arm.
"A ghost! she chattered. "A ghost!"
Mapuhi's face was a ghastly yellow. He clung weakly to his wife.
"Good woman," he said in faltering tones, striving to disguise his vice, "I
know your son well. He is living on the east side of the lagoon."
From without came the sound of a sigh. Mapuhi began to feel elated. He had
fooled the ghost.
"But where do you come from, old woman?" he asked.
"From the sea," was the dejected answer.
"I knew it! I knew it!" screamed Tefara, rocking to and fro.
"Since when has Tefara bedded in a strange house?" came Nauri's voice through
the matting.
Mapuhi looked fear and reproach at his wife. It was her voice that had
betrayed them.
"And since when has Mapuhi, my son, denied his old mother?" the voice went on.
"No, no, I have not--Mapuhi has not denied you," he cried. "I am not Mapuhi.
He is on the east end of the lagoon, I tell you."
Ngakura sat up in bed and began to cry. The matting started to shake.
"What are you doing?" Mapuhi demanded.
"I am coming in," said the voice of Nauri.
One end of the matting lifted. Tefara tried to dive under the blankets, but
Mapuhi held on to her. He had to hold on to something. Together, struggling
with each other, with shivering bodies and chattering teeth, they gazed with
protruding eyes at the lifting mat. They saw Nauri, dripping with sea water,
without her ahu, creep in. They rolled over backward from her and fought for
Ngakura's blanket with which to cover their heads.
"You might give your old mother a drink of water," the ghost said plaintively.
"Give her a drink of water," Tefara commanded in a shaking voice.
"Give her a drink of water," Mapuhi passed on the command to Ngakura.
And together they kicked out Ngakura from under the blanket. A minute later,
peeping, Mapuhi saw the ghost drinking. When it reached out a shaking hand and
laid it on his, he felt the weight of it and was convinced that it was no
ghost. Then he emerged, dragging Tefara after him, and in a few minutes all
were listening to Nauri's tale. And when she told of Levy, and dropped the
pearl into Tefara's hand, even she was reconciled to the reality of her
mother-in-law.
"In the morning," said Tefara, "you will sell the pearl to Raoul for five
thousand French."
"The house?" objected Nauri.
"He will build the house," Tefara answered. "He ways it will cost four
thousand French. Also will he give one thousand French in credit, which is two
thousand Chili."
"And it will be six fathoms long?" Nauri queried.
"Ay," answered Mapuhi, "six fathoms."
"And in the middle room will be the octagon-drop-clock?"
"Ay, and the round table as well."
"Then give me something to eat, for I am hungry," said Nauri, complacently.
"And after that we will sleep, for I am weary. And tomorrow we will have more
talk about the house before we sell the pearl. It will be better if we take
the thousand French in cash. Money is ever better than credit in buying goods
from the traders."
THE WHALE TOOTH
It was in the early days in Fiji, when John Starhurst arose in the mission
house at Rewa Village and announced his intention of carrying the gospel
throughout all Viti Levu. Now Viti Levu means the "Great Land," it being the
largest island in a group composed of many large islands, to say nothing of
hundreds of small ones. Here and there on the coasts, living by most
precarious tenure, was a sprinkling of missionaries, traders, b锟絚he-de-mer
fishers, and whaleship deserters. The smoke of the hot ovens arose under their
windows, and the bodies of the slain were dragged by their doors on the way to
the feasting.
The Lotu, or the Worship, was progressing slowly, and, often, in crablike
fashion. Chiefs, who announced themselves Christians and were welcomed into
the body of the chapel, had a distressing habit of backsliding in order to
partake of the flesh of some favorite enemy. Eat or be eaten had been the law
of the land; and eat or be eaten promised to remain the law of the land for a
long time to come. There were chiefs, such as Tanoa, Tuiveikoso, and
Tuikilakila, who had literally eaten hundreds of their fellow men. But among
these gluttons Ra Undreundre ranked highest. Ra Undreundre lived at Takiraki.
He kept a register of his gustatory exploits. A row of stones outside his
house marked the bodies he had eaten. This row was two hundred and thirty
paces long, and the stones in it numbered eight hundred and seventy-two. Each
stone represented a body. The row of stones might have been longer, had not Ra
Undreundre unfortunately received a spear in the small of his back in a bush
skirmish on Somo Somo and been served up on the table of Naungavuli, whose
mediocre string of stones numbered only forty-eight.
The hard-worked, fever-stricken missionaries stuck doggedly to their task, at
times despairing, and looking forward for some special manifestation, some
outburst of Pentecostal fire that would bring a gloriousharvest of souls. But
cannibal Fiji had remained obdurate. The frizzle-headed man-eaters were loath
to leave their fleshpots so long as the harvest of human carcases was
plentiful. Sometimes, when the harvest was too plentiful, they imposed on the
missionaries by letting the word slip out that on such a day there would be a
killing and a barbecue. Promptly the missionaries would buy the lives of the
victims with stick tobacco, fathoms of calico, and quarts of trade beads.
Natheless the chiefs drove a handsome trade in thus disposing of their surplus
live meat. Also, they could always go out and catch more.
It was at this juncture that John Starhurst proclaimed that he would carry the
Gospel from coast to coast of the Great Land, and that he would begin by
penetrating the mountain fastnesses of the headwaters of the Rewa River. His
words were received with consternation.
The native teachers wept softly. His two fellow missionaries strove to
dissuade him. The King of Rewa warned him that the mountain dwellers would
surely kai-kai him--kai-kai meaning "to eat"--and that he, the King of Rewa,
having become Lotu, would be put to the necessity of going to war with the
mountain dwellers. That he could not conquer them he was perfectly aware.
That they might come down the river and sack Rewa Village he was likewise
perfectly aware. But what was he to do? If John Starhurst persisted in going
out and being eaten, there would be a war that would cost hundreds of lives.
Later in the day a deputation of Rewa chiefs waited upon John Starhurst. He
heard them patiently, and argued patiently with them, though he abated not a
whit from his purpose. To his fellow missionaries he explained that he was not
bent upon martyrdom; that the call had come for him to carry the Gospel into
Viti Levu, and that he was merely obeying the Lord's wish.
To the traders who came and objected most strenuously of all, he said: "Your
objections are valueless. They consist merely of the damage that may be done
your businesses. You are interested in making money, but I am interested in
saving souls. The heathen of this dark land must be saved."
John Starhurst was not a fanatic. He would have been the first man to deny the
imputation. He was eminently sane and practical.
He was sure that his mission would result in good, and he had private visions
of igniting the Pentecostal spark in the souls of the mountaineers and of
inaugurating a revival that would sweep down out of the mountains and across
the length and breadth of the Great Land from sea to sea and to the isles in
the midst of the sea. There were no wild lights in his mild gray eyes, but
only calm resolution and an unfaltering trust in the Higher Power that was
guiding him.
One man only he found who approved of his project, and that was Ra Vatu, who
secretly encouraged him and offered to lend him guides to the first foothills.
John Starhurst, in turn, was greatly pleased by Ra Vatu's conduct. From an
incorrigible heathen, with a heart as black as his practices, Ra Vatu was
beginning to emanate light. He even spoke of becoming Lotu. True, three years
before he had expressed a similar intention, and would have entered the church
had not John Starhurst entered objection to his bringing his four wives along
with him. Ra Vatu had had economic and ethical objections to monogamy.
Besides, the missionary's hair-splitting objection had offended him; and, to
prove that he was a free agent and a man of honor, he had swung his huge war
club over Starhurst's head. Starhurst had escaped by rushing in under the club
and holding on to him until help arrived. But all that was now forgiven and
forgotten. Ra Vatu was coming into the church, not merely as a converted
heathen, but as a converted polygamist as well. He was only waiting, he
assured Starhurst, until his oldest wife, who was very sick, should die.
John Starhurst journeyed up the sluggish Rewa in one of Ra Vatu's canoes. This
canoe was to carry him for two days, when, the head of navigation reached, it
would return. Far in the distance, lifted into the sky, could be seen the
great smoky mountains that marked the backbone of the Great Land. All day John
Starhurst gazed at them with eager yearning.
Sometimes he prayed silently. At other times he was joined in prayer by Narau,
a native teacher, who for seven years had been Lotu, ever since the day he had
been saved from the hot oven by Dr. James Ellery Brown at the trifling expense
of one hundred sticks of tobacco, two cotton blankets, and a large bottle of
painkiller. At the last moment, after twenty hours of solitary supplication
and prayer, Narau's ears had heard the call to go forth with John Starhurst on
the mission to the mountains.
"Master, I will surely go with thee," he had announced.
John Starhurst had hailed him with sober delight. Truly, the Lord was with him
thus to spur on so broken-spirited a creature as Narau.
"I am indeed without spirit, the weakest of the Lord's vessels," Narau
explained, the first day in the canoe.
"You should have faith, stronger faith," the missionary chided him.
Another canoe journeyed up the Rewa that day. But it journeyed an hour astern,
swam on. When the fin disappeared, she lay face downward in the water and
watched. When the fin reappeared she resumed her swimming. The monster was
lazy--she could see that. Without doubt he had been well fed since the
hurricane. Had he been very hungry, she knew he would not have hesitated from
making a dash for her. He was fifteen feet long, and one bite, she knew, could
cut her in half.
But she did not have any time to waste on him. Whether she swam or not, the
current drew away from the land just the same. A half hour went by, and the
shark began to grow bolder. Seeing no harm in her he drew closer, in narrowing
circles, cocking his eyes at her impudently as he slid past. Sooner or later,
she knew well enough, he would get up sufficient courage to dash at her. She
resolved to play first. It was a desperate act she meditated. She was an old
woman, alone in the sea and weak from starvation and hardship; and yet she, in
the face of this sea tiger, must anticipate his dash by herself dashing at
him. She swam on, waiting her chance. At last he passed languidly by, barely
eight feet away. She rushed at him suddenly, feigning that she was attacking
him. He gave a wild flirt of his tail as he fled away, and his sandpaper hide,
striking her, took off her skin from elbow to shoulder. He swam rapidly, in a
widening circle, and at last disappeared.
In the hole in the sand, covered over by fragments of metal roofing, Mapuhi
and Tefara lay disputing.
"If you had done as I said," charged Tefara, for the thousandth time, "and
hidden the pearl and told no one, you would have it now."
"But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened the shell--have I not told you so
times and times and times without end?"
"And now we shall have no house. Raoul told me today that if you had not sold
the pearl to Toriki--"
"I did not sell it. Toriki robbed me."
"--that if you had not sold the pearl, he would give you five thousand French
dollars, which is ten thousand Chili."
"He has been talking to his mother," Mapuhi explained. "She has an eye for a
pearl."
"And now the pearl is lost," Tefara complained.
"It paid my debt with Toriki. That is twelve hundred I have made, anyway."
"Toriki is dead," she cried. "They have heard no word of his schooner. She was
lost along with the Aorai and the Hira. Will Toriki pay you the three hundred
credit he promised? No, because Toriki is dead. And had you found no pearl,
would you today owe Toriki the twelve hundred? No, because Toriki is dead, and
you cannot pay dead men."
"But Levy did not pay Toriki," Mapuhi said. "He gave him a piece of paper that
was good for the money in Papeete; and now Levy is dead and cannot pay; and
Toriki is dead and the paper lost with him, and the pearl is lost with Levy.
You are right, Tefara. I have lost the pearl, and got nothing for it. Now let
us sleep."
He held up his hand suddenly and listened. From without came a noise, as of
one who breathed heavily and with pain. A hand fumbled against the mat that
served for a door.
"Who is there?" Mapuhi cried.
"Nauri," came the answer. "Can you tell me where is my son, Mapuhi?"
Tefara screamed and gripped her husband's arm.
"A ghost! she chattered. "A ghost!"
Mapuhi's face was a ghastly yellow. He clung weakly to his wife.
"Good woman," he said in faltering tones, striving to disguise his vice, "I
know your son well. He is living on the east side of the lagoon."
From without came the sound of a sigh. Mapuhi began to feel elated. He had
fooled the ghost.
"But where do you come from, old woman?" he asked.
"From the sea," was the dejected answer.
"I knew it! I knew it!" screamed Tefara, rocking to and fro.
"Since when has Tefara bedded in a strange house?" came Nauri's voice through
the matting.
Mapuhi looked fear and reproach at his wife. It was her voice that had
betrayed them.
"And since when has Mapuhi, my son, denied his old mother?" the voice went on.
"No, no, I have not--Mapuhi has not denied you," he cried. "I am not Mapuhi.
He is on the east end of the lagoon, I tell you."
Ngakura sat up in bed and began to cry. The matting started to shake.
"What are you doing?" Mapuhi demanded.
"I am coming in," said the voice of Nauri.
One end of the matting lifted. Tefara tried to dive under the blankets, but
Mapuhi held on to her. He had to hold on to something. Together, struggling
with each other, with shivering bodies and chattering teeth, they gazed with
protruding eyes at the lifting mat. They saw Nauri, dripping with sea water,
without her ahu, creep in. They rolled over backward from her and fought for
Ngakura's blanket with which to cover their heads.
"You might give your old mother a drink of water," the ghost said plaintively.
"Give her a drink of water," Tefara commanded in a shaking voice.
"Give her a drink of water," Mapuhi passed on the command to Ngakura.
And together they kicked out Ngakura from under the blanket. A minute later,
peeping, Mapuhi saw the ghost drinking. When it reached out a shaking hand and
laid it on his, he felt the weight of it and was convinced that it was no
ghost. Then he emerged, dragging Tefara after him, and in a few minutes all
were listening to Nauri's tale. And when she told of Levy, and dropped the
pearl into Tefara's hand, even she was reconciled to the reality of her
mother-in-law.
"In the morning," said Tefara, "you will sell the pearl to Raoul for five
thousand French."
"The house?" objected Nauri.
"He will build the house," Tefara answered. "He ways it will cost four
thousand French. Also will he give one thousand French in credit, which is two
thousand Chili."
"And it will be six fathoms long?" Nauri queried.
"Ay," answered Mapuhi, "six fathoms."
"And in the middle room will be the octagon-drop-clock?"
"Ay, and the round table as well."
"Then give me something to eat, for I am hungry," said Nauri, complacently.
"And after that we will sleep, for I am weary. And tomorrow we will have more
talk about the house before we sell the pearl. It will be better if we take
the thousand French in cash. Money is ever better than credit in buying goods
from the traders."
THE WHALE TOOTH
It was in the early days in Fiji, when John Starhurst arose in the mission
house at Rewa Village and announced his intention of carrying the gospel
throughout all Viti Levu. Now Viti Levu means the "Great Land," it being the
largest island in a group composed of many large islands, to say nothing of
hundreds of small ones. Here and there on the coasts, living by most
precarious tenure, was a sprinkling of missionaries, traders, b锟絚he-de-mer
fishers, and whaleship deserters. The smoke of the hot ovens arose under their
windows, and the bodies of the slain were dragged by their doors on the way to
the feasting.
The Lotu, or the Worship, was progressing slowly, and, often, in crablike
fashion. Chiefs, who announced themselves Christians and were welcomed into
the body of the chapel, had a distressing habit of backsliding in order to
partake of the flesh of some favorite enemy. Eat or be eaten had been the law
of the land; and eat or be eaten promised to remain the law of the land for a
long time to come. There were chiefs, such as Tanoa, Tuiveikoso, and
Tuikilakila, who had literally eaten hundreds of their fellow men. But among
these gluttons Ra Undreundre ranked highest. Ra Undreundre lived at Takiraki.
He kept a register of his gustatory exploits. A row of stones outside his
house marked the bodies he had eaten. This row was two hundred and thirty
paces long, and the stones in it numbered eight hundred and seventy-two. Each
stone represented a body. The row of stones might have been longer, had not Ra
Undreundre unfortunately received a spear in the small of his back in a bush
skirmish on Somo Somo and been served up on the table of Naungavuli, whose
mediocre string of stones numbered only forty-eight.
The hard-worked, fever-stricken missionaries stuck doggedly to their task, at
times despairing, and looking forward for some special manifestation, some
outburst of Pentecostal fire that would bring a gloriousharvest of souls. But
cannibal Fiji had remained obdurate. The frizzle-headed man-eaters were loath
to leave their fleshpots so long as the harvest of human carcases was
plentiful. Sometimes, when the harvest was too plentiful, they imposed on the
missionaries by letting the word slip out that on such a day there would be a
killing and a barbecue. Promptly the missionaries would buy the lives of the
victims with stick tobacco, fathoms of calico, and quarts of trade beads.
Natheless the chiefs drove a handsome trade in thus disposing of their surplus
live meat. Also, they could always go out and catch more.
It was at this juncture that John Starhurst proclaimed that he would carry the
Gospel from coast to coast of the Great Land, and that he would begin by
penetrating the mountain fastnesses of the headwaters of the Rewa River. His
words were received with consternation.
The native teachers wept softly. His two fellow missionaries strove to
dissuade him. The King of Rewa warned him that the mountain dwellers would
surely kai-kai him--kai-kai meaning "to eat"--and that he, the King of Rewa,
having become Lotu, would be put to the necessity of going to war with the
mountain dwellers. That he could not conquer them he was perfectly aware.
That they might come down the river and sack Rewa Village he was likewise
perfectly aware. But what was he to do? If John Starhurst persisted in going
out and being eaten, there would be a war that would cost hundreds of lives.
Later in the day a deputation of Rewa chiefs waited upon John Starhurst. He
heard them patiently, and argued patiently with them, though he abated not a
whit from his purpose. To his fellow missionaries he explained that he was not
bent upon martyrdom; that the call had come for him to carry the Gospel into
Viti Levu, and that he was merely obeying the Lord's wish.
To the traders who came and objected most strenuously of all, he said: "Your
objections are valueless. They consist merely of the damage that may be done
your businesses. You are interested in making money, but I am interested in
saving souls. The heathen of this dark land must be saved."
John Starhurst was not a fanatic. He would have been the first man to deny the
imputation. He was eminently sane and practical.
He was sure that his mission would result in good, and he had private visions
of igniting the Pentecostal spark in the souls of the mountaineers and of
inaugurating a revival that would sweep down out of the mountains and across
the length and breadth of the Great Land from sea to sea and to the isles in
the midst of the sea. There were no wild lights in his mild gray eyes, but
only calm resolution and an unfaltering trust in the Higher Power that was
guiding him.
One man only he found who approved of his project, and that was Ra Vatu, who
secretly encouraged him and offered to lend him guides to the first foothills.
John Starhurst, in turn, was greatly pleased by Ra Vatu's conduct. From an
incorrigible heathen, with a heart as black as his practices, Ra Vatu was
beginning to emanate light. He even spoke of becoming Lotu. True, three years
before he had expressed a similar intention, and would have entered the church
had not John Starhurst entered objection to his bringing his four wives along
with him. Ra Vatu had had economic and ethical objections to monogamy.
Besides, the missionary's hair-splitting objection had offended him; and, to
prove that he was a free agent and a man of honor, he had swung his huge war
club over Starhurst's head. Starhurst had escaped by rushing in under the club
and holding on to him until help arrived. But all that was now forgiven and
forgotten. Ra Vatu was coming into the church, not merely as a converted
heathen, but as a converted polygamist as well. He was only waiting, he
assured Starhurst, until his oldest wife, who was very sick, should die.
John Starhurst journeyed up the sluggish Rewa in one of Ra Vatu's canoes. This
canoe was to carry him for two days, when, the head of navigation reached, it
would return. Far in the distance, lifted into the sky, could be seen the
great smoky mountains that marked the backbone of the Great Land. All day John
Starhurst gazed at them with eager yearning.
Sometimes he prayed silently. At other times he was joined in prayer by Narau,
a native teacher, who for seven years had been Lotu, ever since the day he had
been saved from the hot oven by Dr. James Ellery Brown at the trifling expense
of one hundred sticks of tobacco, two cotton blankets, and a large bottle of
painkiller. At the last moment, after twenty hours of solitary supplication
and prayer, Narau's ears had heard the call to go forth with John Starhurst on
the mission to the mountains.
"Master, I will surely go with thee," he had announced.
John Starhurst had hailed him with sober delight. Truly, the Lord was with him
thus to spur on so broken-spirited a creature as Narau.
"I am indeed without spirit, the weakest of the Lord's vessels," Narau
explained, the first day in the canoe.
"You should have faith, stronger faith," the missionary chided him.
Another canoe journeyed up the Rewa that day. But it journeyed an hour astern,
- monster [´mɔnstə]
n.怪物 a.大得异常的 (初中英语单词) - desperate [´despərit] a.拼死的；绝望的 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- circle [´sə:kəl] n.圆圈 v.环绕；盘旋 (初中英语单词)
- disguise [dis´gaiz] vt.假装；隐瞒 n.伪装 (初中英语单词)
- backward [´bækwəd] ad.向后 a.向后的 (初中英语单词)
- reality [ri´æliti] n.现实(性)；真实；逼真 (初中英语单词)
- intention [in´tenʃən] n.意图；打算；意义 (初中英语单词)
- worship [´wə:ʃip] n.&v.崇拜；敬仰 (初中英语单词)
- chapel [´tʃæpəl] n.小教堂 (初中英语单词)
- register [´redʒistə] n.&v.登记簿 (初中英语单词)
- glorious [´glɔ:riəs] a.光荣的；辉煌的 (初中英语单词)
- harvest [´hɑ:vist] n.&v.收获；收割 (初中英语单词)
- promptly [´prɔmptli] ad.敏捷地；即时地 (初中英语单词)
- tobacco [tə´bækəu] n.烟草(叶)；卷烟 (初中英语单词)
- softly [´sɔftli] ad.软化地；柔和地 (初中英语单词)
- conquer [´kɔŋkə] v.征服；克服；抑制 (初中英语单词)
- mission [´miʃən] n.代表团；使馆vt.派遣 (初中英语单词)
- resolution [,rezə´lu:ʃən] n.决心；坚决；果断 (初中英语单词)
- project [prə´dʒekt, ´prɔdʒekt] v.设计；投掷 n.计划 (初中英语单词)
- objection [əb´dʒekʃən] n.反对；异议；缺点 (初中英语单词)
- silently [´sailəntli] ad.寂静地；沉默地 (初中英语单词)
- trifling [´traifliŋ] a.微小的；轻浮的 (初中英语单词)
- downward [´daunwəd] a.下降的，向下的 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- hardship [´hɑ:dʃip] n.受苦，吃苦；苦难 (高中英语单词)
- anticipate [æn´tisipeit] vt.预期；指望；期待 (高中英语单词)
- schooner [´sku:nə] n.纵帆船 (高中英语单词)
- ghastly [´gɑ:stli] a.苍白的；可怕的 (高中英语单词)
- reproach [ri´prəutʃ] vt.&n.责备；指责；耻辱 (高中英语单词)
- literally [´litərəli] ad.逐字地；实际上 (高中英语单词)
- unfortunately [ʌn´fɔ:tʃunitli] ad.不幸；不朽；可惜 (高中英语单词)
- plentiful [´plentifəl] a.丰富的；多的 (高中英语单词)
- strove [strəuv] strive的过去式 (高中英语单词)
- perfectly [´pə:fiktli] ad.理想地；完美地 (高中英语单词)
- patiently [´peiʃəntli] ad.有耐心地；坚韧地 (高中英语单词)
- gospel [´gɔspəl] n.福音；信条；真理 (高中英语单词)
- heathen [´hi:ðən] n.异教徒 (高中英语单词)
- breadth [bredθ] n.宽度，幅面，广度 (高中英语单词)
- navigation [,nævi´geiʃən] n.航行；航空；导航 (高中英语单词)
- solitary [´sɔlitəri] a.独居的；孤独的 (高中英语单词)
- missionary [´miʃənəri] a.传教(士)的 n.传教士 (高中英语单词)
- starvation [stɑ:´veiʃən] n.饥饿；饿死 (英语四级单词)
- composed [kəm´pəuzd] a.镇静自若的 (英语四级单词)
- calico [´kælikəu] n.白棉布；印花布 (英语四级单词)
- revival [ri´vaivəl] n.苏醒；复活；复兴 (英语四级单词)
- forgiven [fə´givn] forgive的过去分词 (英语四级单词)
- backbone [´bækbəun] n.脊骨；骨干；支柱 (英语四级单词)
- dashing [´dæʃiŋ] a.勇猛的；生气勃勃的 (英语六级单词)
- dejected [di´dʒektid] a.垂头丧气的 (英语六级单词)
- lagoon [lə´gu:n] n.濒海湖，泻湖 (英语六级单词)
- doggedly [´dɔgidli] ad.顽强地，固执地 (英语六级单词)
- despairing [di´speəriŋ] a.感到绝望的 (英语六级单词)
- manifestation [,mænife´steiʃən] n.表明；现象 (英语六级单词)
- martyrdom [´mɑ:tədəm] n.殉难；牺牲 (英语六级单词)
- fanatic [fə´nætik] a.狂热的 n.狂热者 (英语六级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- sluggish [´slʌgiʃ] a.呆滞的；偷懒的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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