章节正文
sand."
Mescal led Hare under the cottonwoods and pointed to the Indian's grave,
now green with grass. Farther on in a circle of trees stood a little
hogan skilfully constructed out of brush; the edge of a red blanket
peeped from the door; a burnt-out fire smoked on a stone fireplace, and
blackened earthen vessels lay near. The white seeds of the cottonwoods
were flying light as feathers; plum-trees were pink in blossom; there
were vines twining all about; through the openings in the foliage shone
the blue of sky and red of cliff Patches of blossoming Bowers were here
and there lit to brilliance by golden shafts of sunlight. The twitter of
birds and hum of bees were almost drowned in the soft roar of water.
"Is that the Colorado I hear?" asked Hare.
"No, that's Thunder River. The Colorado is farther down in the Grand
Canyon."
"Farther down! Mescal, I must have come a mile from the rim. Where are
we?"
"We are almost at the Colorado, and directly under the head of Coconina.
We can see the mountain from the break in the valley below."
"Come sit by me here under this tree. Tell me--how did you ever get
here?"
Then Mescal told him how the peon had led her on a long trail from Bitter
Seeps, how they had camped at desert waterholes, and on the fourth day
descended to Thunder River.
"I was quite happy at first. It's always summer down here. There were
rabbits, birds, beaver, and fruit--we had enough to eat I explored the
valley with Wolf or rode Noddle up and down the canyon. Then my peon
died, and I had to shift for myself. There came a time when the beaver
left the valley, and Wolf and I had to make a rabbit serve for days. I
knew then I'd have to get across the desert to the Navajos or starve in
the canyon. I hesitated about climbing out into the desert, for I wasn't
sure of the trail to the waterholes. Noddle wandered off up the canyon
and never came back. After he was gone and I knew I couldn't get out I
grew homesick. The days weren't so bad because I was always hunting for
something to eat, but the nights were lonely. I couldn't sleep. I lay
awake listening to the river, and at last I could hear whispering and
singing and music, and strange sounds, and low thunder, always low
thunder. I wasn't really frightened, only lonely, and the canyon was so
black and full of mutterings. Sometimes I'd dream I was back on the
plateau with you, Jack, and Bolly and the sheep, and when I'd awake in
the loneliness I'd cry right out--"
"Mescal, I heard those cries," said Hare.
"It was strange--the way I felt. I believe if I'd never known and--and
loved you, Jack, I'd have forgotten home. After I'd been here a while, I
seemed to be drifting, drifting. It was as if I had lived in the canyon
long before, and was remembering. The feeling was strong, but always
thoughts of you, and of the big world, brought me back to the present
with its loneliness and fear of starvation. Then I wanted you, and I'd
cry out. I knew I must send Wolf home. How hard it was to make him go!
But at last he trotted off, looking backward, and I--waited and waited."
She leaned against him. The hand which had plucked at his sleeve dropped
to his fingers and clung there. Hare knew how her story had slighted the
perils and privations of that long year. She had grown lonely in the
canyon darkness; she had sent Wolf away and had waited--all was said in
that. But more than any speech, the look of her, and the story told in
the thin brown hands touched his heart. Not for an instant since his
arrival had she altogether let loose of his fingers, or coat, or arm.
She had lived so long alone in this weird world of silence and moving
shadows and murmuring water, that she needed to feel the substance of her
hopes, to assure herself of the reality of the man she loved.
"My mustang--Bolly--tell me of her," said Mescal.
"Bolly's fine. Sleek and fat and lazy! She's been in the fields ever
since you left. Not a bridle on her. Many times have I seen her poke
her black muzzle over the fence and look down the lane. She'd never
forget you, Mescal."
"Oh! how I want to see her! Tell me--everything."
"Wait a little. Let me fetch Silvermane and we'll make a fire and eat.
Then--"
"Tell me now."
"Well, Mescal, it's soon told." Then came the story of events growing out
of her flight. When he told of the shooting at Silver Cup, Mescal rose
with heaving bosom and blazing eyes.
"It was nothing--I wasn't hurt much. Only the intention was bad. We saw
no more of Snap or Holderness. The worst of it all was that Snap's wife
died."
"Oh, I am sorry--sorry. Poor Father Naab! How he must hate me, the cause
of it all! But I couldn't stay--I couldn't marry Snap."
"Don't blame yourself, Mescal. What Snap might have done if you had
married him is guesswork. He might have left drink alone a while longer.
But he was bad clean through. I heard Dave Naab tell him that. Snap
would have gone over to Holderness sooner or later. And now he's a
rustler, if not worse."
"Then those men think Snap killed you?"
"Yes."
"What's going to happen when you meet Snap, or any of them?"
"Somebody will be surprised," replied Hare, with a laugh.
"Jack, it's no laughing matter." She fastened her hands in the lapels of
his coat and her eyes grew sad. "You can never hang up your gun again."
"No. But perhaps I can keep out of their way, especially Snap's.
Mescal, you've forgotten Silvermane, and how he can run."
"I haven't forgotten. He can run, but he can't beat Bolly." She said
this with a hint of her old spirit." Jack--you want to take me back
home?"
"Of course. What did you expect when you sent Wolf?"
"I didn't expect. I just wanted to see you, or somebody, and I thought
of the Navajos. Couldn't I live with them? Why can't we stay here or in
a canyon across the Colorado where there's plenty of game?"
"I'm going to take you home and Father Naab shall marry you--to--to me."
Startled, Mescal fell back upon his shoulder and did not stir nor speak
for a long time. "Did--did you tell him?"
"Yes."
"What did he say? Was he angry? Tell me."
"He was kind and good as he always is. He said if I found you, then the
issue would be between Snap and me, as man to man. You are still pledged
to Snap in the Mormon Church and that can't be changed. I don't suppose
even if he's outlawed that it could be changed."
"Snap will not let any grass grow in the trails to the oasis," said
Mescal. "Once he finds I've come back to life he'll have me. You don't
know him, Jack. I'm afraid to go home."
"My dear, there's no other place for us to go. We can't live the life of
Indians."
"But Jack, think of me watching you ride out from home! Think of me
always looking for Snap! I couldn't endure it. I've grown weak in this
year of absence."
"Mescal, look at me." His voice rang as he held her face to face. "We
must decide everything. Now--say you love me!"
"Yes--yes."
"Say it."
"I--love you--Jack.
"Say you'll marry me
"I will marry you."
"Then listen. I'll get you out of this canyon and take you home. You
are mine and I'll keep you." He held her tightly with strong arms; his
face paled, his eyes darkened. "I don't want to meet Snap Naab. I shall
try to keep out of his way. I hope I can. But Mescal, I'm yours now.
Your happiness--perhaps your life--depends on me. That makes a
difference. Understand!"
Silvermane walked into the glade with a saddle-girth so tight that his
master unbuckled it only by dint of repeated effort. Evidently the rich
grass of Thunder River Canyon appealed strongly to the desert stallion.
"Here, Silver, how do you expect to carry us out if you eat and drink
like that?" Hare removed the saddle and tethered the gray to one of the
cottonwoods. Wolf came trotting into camp proudly carrying a rabbit.
"Mescal, can we get across the Colorado and find a way up over Coconina?"
asked Hare.
"Yes, I'm sure we can. My peon never made a mistake about directions.
There's no trail, but Navajos have crossed the river at this season, and
worked up a canyon."
The shadows had gathered under the cliffs, and the rosy light high up on
the ramparts had chilled and waned when Hare and Mescal sat down to their
meal. Wolf lay close to the girl and begged for morsels. Then in the
twilight they sat together content to be silent, listening to the low
thunder of the river. Long after Mescal had retired into her hogan Hare
lay awake before her door with his head in his saddle and listened to the
low roll, the dull burr, the dreamy hum of the tumbling waters. The
place was like the oasis, only infinitely more hidden under the cliffs.
A few stars twinkled out of the dark blue, and one hung, beaconlike, on
the crest of a noble crag. There were times when he imagined the valley
was as silent as the desert night, and other times when he imagined he
heard the thundering roll of avalanches and the tramp of armies. Then
the voices of Mescal's solitude spoke to him--glorious laughter and low
sad wails of woe, sweet songs and whispers and murmurs. His last waking
thoughts were of the haunting sound of Thunder River, and that he had
come to bear Mescal away from its loneliness.
He bestirred himself at the first glimpse of day, and when the gray mists
had lifted to wreathe the crags it was light enough to begin the journey.
Mescal shed tears at the grave of the faithful peon. "He loved this
canyon," she said, softly. Hare lifted her upon Silvermane. He walked
beside the horse and Wolf trotted on before. They travelled awhile under
the flowering cottonwoods on a trail bordered with green tufts of grass
and great star-shaped lilies. The river was still hidden, but it filled
the grove with its soft thunder. Gradually the trees thinned out, hard
stony ground encroached upon the sand, bowlders appeared in the way; and
presently, when Silvermane stepped out of the shade of the cottonwoods,
Hare saw the lower end of the valley with its ragged vent.
"Look back!" said Mescal.
Hare saw the river bursting from the base of the wall in two white
streams which soon united below, and leaped down in a continuous cascade.
Step by step the stream plunged through the deep gorge, a broken, foaming
raceway, and at the lower end of the valley it took its final leap into a
blue abyss, and then found its way to the Colorado, hidden underground.
The flower-scented breeze and the rumbling of the river persisted long
after the valley lay behind and above, but these failed at length in the
close air of the huge abutting walls. The light grew thick, the stones
cracked like deep bell-strokes; the voices of man and girl had a hollow
sound and echo. Silvermane clattered down the easy trail at a gait which
urged Hare now and then from walk to run. Soon the gully opened out upon
a plateau through the centre of which, in a black gulf, wound the red
Colorado, sullen-voiced, booming, never silent nor restful. Here were
distances by which Hare could begin to comprehend the immensity of the
canyon, and he felt lost among the great terraces leading up to mesas
that dwarfed the Echo Cliffs. All was bare rock of many hues burning
under the sun.
"Jack, this is mescal," said the girl, pointing to some towering plants.
All over the sunny slopes cacti lifted slender shafts, unfolding in
spiral leaves as they shot upward and bursting at the top into plumes of
yellow flowers. The blossoming stalks waved in the wind, and black bees
circled round them.
"Mescal, I've always wanted to see the Flower of the Desert from which
you're named. It's beautiful."
Hare broke a dead stalk of the cactus and was put to instantflight by a
stream of bees pouring with angry buzz from the hollow centre. Two big
fellows were so persistent that he had to beat them off with his hat.
"You shouldn't despoil their homes," said Mescal, with a peal of
laughter.
"I'll break another stalk and get stung, if you'll laugh again," replied
Hare.
They traversed the remaining slope of the plateau, and entering the head
of a ravine, descended a steep cleft of flinty rock, rock so hard that
Silvermane's iron hoofs not so much as scratched it. Then reaching a
level, they passed out to rounded sand and the river.
"It's a little high," said Hare dubiously. "Mescal, I don't like the
Mescal led Hare under the cottonwoods and pointed to the Indian's grave,
now green with grass. Farther on in a circle of trees stood a little
hogan skilfully constructed out of brush; the edge of a red blanket
peeped from the door; a burnt-out fire smoked on a stone fireplace, and
blackened earthen vessels lay near. The white seeds of the cottonwoods
were flying light as feathers; plum-trees were pink in blossom; there
were vines twining all about; through the openings in the foliage shone
the blue of sky and red of cliff Patches of blossoming Bowers were here
and there lit to brilliance by golden shafts of sunlight. The twitter of
birds and hum of bees were almost drowned in the soft roar of water.
"Is that the Colorado I hear?" asked Hare.
"No, that's Thunder River. The Colorado is farther down in the Grand
Canyon."
"Farther down! Mescal, I must have come a mile from the rim. Where are
we?"
"We are almost at the Colorado, and directly under the head of Coconina.
We can see the mountain from the break in the valley below."
"Come sit by me here under this tree. Tell me--how did you ever get
here?"
Then Mescal told him how the peon had led her on a long trail from Bitter
Seeps, how they had camped at desert waterholes, and on the fourth day
descended to Thunder River.
"I was quite happy at first. It's always summer down here. There were
rabbits, birds, beaver, and fruit--we had enough to eat I explored the
valley with Wolf or rode Noddle up and down the canyon. Then my peon
died, and I had to shift for myself. There came a time when the beaver
left the valley, and Wolf and I had to make a rabbit serve for days. I
knew then I'd have to get across the desert to the Navajos or starve in
the canyon. I hesitated about climbing out into the desert, for I wasn't
sure of the trail to the waterholes. Noddle wandered off up the canyon
and never came back. After he was gone and I knew I couldn't get out I
grew homesick. The days weren't so bad because I was always hunting for
something to eat, but the nights were lonely. I couldn't sleep. I lay
awake listening to the river, and at last I could hear whispering and
singing and music, and strange sounds, and low thunder, always low
thunder. I wasn't really frightened, only lonely, and the canyon was so
black and full of mutterings. Sometimes I'd dream I was back on the
plateau with you, Jack, and Bolly and the sheep, and when I'd awake in
the loneliness I'd cry right out--"
"Mescal, I heard those cries," said Hare.
"It was strange--the way I felt. I believe if I'd never known and--and
loved you, Jack, I'd have forgotten home. After I'd been here a while, I
seemed to be drifting, drifting. It was as if I had lived in the canyon
long before, and was remembering. The feeling was strong, but always
thoughts of you, and of the big world, brought me back to the present
with its loneliness and fear of starvation. Then I wanted you, and I'd
cry out. I knew I must send Wolf home. How hard it was to make him go!
But at last he trotted off, looking backward, and I--waited and waited."
She leaned against him. The hand which had plucked at his sleeve dropped
to his fingers and clung there. Hare knew how her story had slighted the
perils and privations of that long year. She had grown lonely in the
canyon darkness; she had sent Wolf away and had waited--all was said in
that. But more than any speech, the look of her, and the story told in
the thin brown hands touched his heart. Not for an instant since his
arrival had she altogether let loose of his fingers, or coat, or arm.
She had lived so long alone in this weird world of silence and moving
shadows and murmuring water, that she needed to feel the substance of her
hopes, to assure herself of the reality of the man she loved.
"My mustang--Bolly--tell me of her," said Mescal.
"Bolly's fine. Sleek and fat and lazy! She's been in the fields ever
since you left. Not a bridle on her. Many times have I seen her poke
her black muzzle over the fence and look down the lane. She'd never
forget you, Mescal."
"Oh! how I want to see her! Tell me--everything."
"Wait a little. Let me fetch Silvermane and we'll make a fire and eat.
Then--"
"Tell me now."
"Well, Mescal, it's soon told." Then came the story of events growing out
of her flight. When he told of the shooting at Silver Cup, Mescal rose
with heaving bosom and blazing eyes.
"It was nothing--I wasn't hurt much. Only the intention was bad. We saw
no more of Snap or Holderness. The worst of it all was that Snap's wife
died."
"Oh, I am sorry--sorry. Poor Father Naab! How he must hate me, the cause
of it all! But I couldn't stay--I couldn't marry Snap."
"Don't blame yourself, Mescal. What Snap might have done if you had
married him is guesswork. He might have left drink alone a while longer.
But he was bad clean through. I heard Dave Naab tell him that. Snap
would have gone over to Holderness sooner or later. And now he's a
rustler, if not worse."
"Then those men think Snap killed you?"
"Yes."
"What's going to happen when you meet Snap, or any of them?"
"Somebody will be surprised," replied Hare, with a laugh.
"Jack, it's no laughing matter." She fastened her hands in the lapels of
his coat and her eyes grew sad. "You can never hang up your gun again."
"No. But perhaps I can keep out of their way, especially Snap's.
Mescal, you've forgotten Silvermane, and how he can run."
"I haven't forgotten. He can run, but he can't beat Bolly." She said
this with a hint of her old spirit." Jack--you want to take me back
home?"
"Of course. What did you expect when you sent Wolf?"
"I didn't expect. I just wanted to see you, or somebody, and I thought
of the Navajos. Couldn't I live with them? Why can't we stay here or in
a canyon across the Colorado where there's plenty of game?"
"I'm going to take you home and Father Naab shall marry you--to--to me."
Startled, Mescal fell back upon his shoulder and did not stir nor speak
for a long time. "Did--did you tell him?"
"Yes."
"What did he say? Was he angry? Tell me."
"He was kind and good as he always is. He said if I found you, then the
issue would be between Snap and me, as man to man. You are still pledged
to Snap in the Mormon Church and that can't be changed. I don't suppose
even if he's outlawed that it could be changed."
"Snap will not let any grass grow in the trails to the oasis," said
Mescal. "Once he finds I've come back to life he'll have me. You don't
know him, Jack. I'm afraid to go home."
"My dear, there's no other place for us to go. We can't live the life of
Indians."
"But Jack, think of me watching you ride out from home! Think of me
always looking for Snap! I couldn't endure it. I've grown weak in this
year of absence."
"Mescal, look at me." His voice rang as he held her face to face. "We
must decide everything. Now--say you love me!"
"Yes--yes."
"Say it."
"I--love you--Jack.
"Say you'll marry me
"I will marry you."
"Then listen. I'll get you out of this canyon and take you home. You
are mine and I'll keep you." He held her tightly with strong arms; his
face paled, his eyes darkened. "I don't want to meet Snap Naab. I shall
try to keep out of his way. I hope I can. But Mescal, I'm yours now.
Your happiness--perhaps your life--depends on me. That makes a
difference. Understand!"
Silvermane walked into the glade with a saddle-girth so tight that his
master unbuckled it only by dint of repeated effort. Evidently the rich
grass of Thunder River Canyon appealed strongly to the desert stallion.
"Here, Silver, how do you expect to carry us out if you eat and drink
like that?" Hare removed the saddle and tethered the gray to one of the
cottonwoods. Wolf came trotting into camp proudly carrying a rabbit.
"Mescal, can we get across the Colorado and find a way up over Coconina?"
asked Hare.
"Yes, I'm sure we can. My peon never made a mistake about directions.
There's no trail, but Navajos have crossed the river at this season, and
worked up a canyon."
The shadows had gathered under the cliffs, and the rosy light high up on
the ramparts had chilled and waned when Hare and Mescal sat down to their
meal. Wolf lay close to the girl and begged for morsels. Then in the
twilight they sat together content to be silent, listening to the low
thunder of the river. Long after Mescal had retired into her hogan Hare
lay awake before her door with his head in his saddle and listened to the
low roll, the dull burr, the dreamy hum of the tumbling waters. The
place was like the oasis, only infinitely more hidden under the cliffs.
A few stars twinkled out of the dark blue, and one hung, beaconlike, on
the crest of a noble crag. There were times when he imagined the valley
was as silent as the desert night, and other times when he imagined he
heard the thundering roll of avalanches and the tramp of armies. Then
the voices of Mescal's solitude spoke to him--glorious laughter and low
sad wails of woe, sweet songs and whispers and murmurs. His last waking
thoughts were of the haunting sound of Thunder River, and that he had
come to bear Mescal away from its loneliness.
He bestirred himself at the first glimpse of day, and when the gray mists
had lifted to wreathe the crags it was light enough to begin the journey.
Mescal shed tears at the grave of the faithful peon. "He loved this
canyon," she said, softly. Hare lifted her upon Silvermane. He walked
beside the horse and Wolf trotted on before. They travelled awhile under
the flowering cottonwoods on a trail bordered with green tufts of grass
and great star-shaped lilies. The river was still hidden, but it filled
the grove with its soft thunder. Gradually the trees thinned out, hard
stony ground encroached upon the sand, bowlders appeared in the way; and
presently, when Silvermane stepped out of the shade of the cottonwoods,
Hare saw the lower end of the valley with its ragged vent.
"Look back!" said Mescal.
Hare saw the river bursting from the base of the wall in two white
streams which soon united below, and leaped down in a continuous cascade.
Step by step the stream plunged through the deep gorge, a broken, foaming
raceway, and at the lower end of the valley it took its final leap into a
blue abyss, and then found its way to the Colorado, hidden underground.
The flower-scented breeze and the rumbling of the river persisted long
after the valley lay behind and above, but these failed at length in the
close air of the huge abutting walls. The light grew thick, the stones
cracked like deep bell-strokes; the voices of man and girl had a hollow
sound and echo. Silvermane clattered down the easy trail at a gait which
urged Hare now and then from walk to run. Soon the gully opened out upon
a plateau through the centre of which, in a black gulf, wound the red
Colorado, sullen-voiced, booming, never silent nor restful. Here were
distances by which Hare could begin to comprehend the immensity of the
canyon, and he felt lost among the great terraces leading up to mesas
that dwarfed the Echo Cliffs. All was bare rock of many hues burning
under the sun.
"Jack, this is mescal," said the girl, pointing to some towering plants.
All over the sunny slopes cacti lifted slender shafts, unfolding in
spiral leaves as they shot upward and bursting at the top into plumes of
yellow flowers. The blossoming stalks waved in the wind, and black bees
circled round them.
"Mescal, I've always wanted to see the Flower of the Desert from which
you're named. It's beautiful."
Hare broke a dead stalk of the cactus and was put to instantflight by a
stream of bees pouring with angry buzz from the hollow centre. Two big
fellows were so persistent that he had to beat them off with his hat.
"You shouldn't despoil their homes," said Mescal, with a peal of
laughter.
"I'll break another stalk and get stung, if you'll laugh again," replied
Hare.
They traversed the remaining slope of the plateau, and entering the head
of a ravine, descended a steep cleft of flinty rock, rock so hard that
Silvermane's iron hoofs not so much as scratched it. Then reaching a
level, they passed out to rounded sand and the river.
"It's a little high," said Hare dubiously. "Mescal, I don't like the
- pointed [´pɔintid]
a.尖(锐)的；中肯的 (初中英语单词) - circle [´sə:kəl] n.圆圈 v.环绕；盘旋 (初中英语单词)
- blossom [´blɔsəm] n.花；开花期 vi.开花 (初中英语单词)
- sunlight [´sʌnlait] n.日光 (初中英语单词)
- thunder [´θʌndə] n.雷 vi.打雷 vt.吼出 (初中英语单词)
- valley [´væli] n.谷；河谷；流域 (初中英语单词)
- beaver [´bi:və] n.海狸；獭皮(帽) (初中英语单词)
- rabbit [´ræbit] n.兔子，野兔 (初中英语单词)
- starve [stɑ:v] v.(使)饥饿 (初中英语单词)
- lonely [´ləunli] a.孤独的；无人烟的 (初中英语单词)
- backward [´bækwəd] ad.向后 a.向后的 (初中英语单词)
- sleeve [sli:v] n.袖子；袖套 (初中英语单词)
- instant [´instənt] a.立即的 n.紧迫；瞬间 (初中英语单词)
- altogether [,ɔ:ltə´geðə] ad.完全；总而言之 (初中英语单词)
- reality [ri´æliti] n.现实(性)；真实；逼真 (初中英语单词)
- flight [flait] n.逃走；飞行；班机 (初中英语单词)
- intention [in´tenʃən] n.意图；打算；意义 (初中英语单词)
- endure [in´djuə] vt.忍耐，忍受；坚持 (初中英语单词)
- evidently [´evidəntli] ad.明显地 (初中英语单词)
- strongly [´strɔŋli] ad.强烈地；强有力地 (初中英语单词)
- saddle [´sædl] n.鞍子 v.装鞍(于) (初中英语单词)
- proudly [´praudli] ad.骄傲地；傲慢地 (初中英语单词)
- hidden [´hid(ə)n] hide 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- laughter [´lɑ:ftə] n.笑，笑声 (初中英语单词)
- glimpse [glimps] n.&v.瞥见 (初中英语单词)
- faithful [´feiθfəl] a.忠实的；可靠的 (初中英语单词)
- softly [´sɔftli] ad.软化地；柔和地 (初中英语单词)
- awhile [ə´wail] ad.少顷；片刻 (初中英语单词)
- continuous [kən´tinjuəs] a.连续不断的；延长的 (初中英语单词)
- stream [stri:m] n.河 vi.流出；飘扬 (初中英语单词)
- breeze [bri:z] n.微风；不费力的事 (初中英语单词)
- slender [´slendə] a.细长的；微薄的 (初中英语单词)
- upward [´ʌpwəd] a.&ad.向上(的)；以上 (初中英语单词)
- fireplace [´faiəpleis] n.壁炉，炉灶 (高中英语单词)
- foliage [´fəuli-idʒ] n.叶子，簇叶 (高中英语单词)
- colorado [,kɔlə´rɑ:dəu] n.科罗拉多(州) (高中英语单词)
- loneliness [´ləunliniz] n.孤独，寂寞 (高中英语单词)
- bridle [´braidl] n.(马)笼头；束缚 (高中英语单词)
- tightly [´taitli] ad.紧，紧密地 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- solitude [´sɔlitju:d] n.孤独；寂寞；荒凉 (高中英语单词)
- ragged [´rægid] a.衣服破烂的 (高中英语单词)
- plateau [´plætəu] n.高原；平稳；托盘 (高中英语单词)
- comprehend [,kɔmpri´hend] vt.了解；领会；包含 (高中英语单词)
- persistent [pə´sistənt] a.坚持的；固执的 (高中英语单词)
- canyon [´kænjən] n.峡谷 (英语四级单词)
- starvation [stɑ:´veiʃən] n.饥饿；饿死 (英语四级单词)
- muzzle [´mʌzəl] n.枪口，炮口 (英语四级单词)
- infinitely [´infinitli] ad.无限地；无穷地 (英语四级单词)
- wreathe [ri:ð] v.做成花圈；盘绕；拧 (英语四级单词)
- towering [´tauəriŋ] a.高耸的；强烈的 (英语四级单词)
- ravine [rə´vi:n] n.沟壑；深谷 (英语四级单词)
- earthen [´ə:θən, -ðən] a.泥土做的；大地的 (英语六级单词)
- brilliance [´briljəns] n.光辉，辉煌 (英语六级单词)
- twitter [´twitə] vi.(鸟)吱吱叫 n.鸟鸣 (英语六级单词)
- homesick [´həum,sik] n.思乡的 (英语六级单词)
- hunting [´hʌntiŋ] n.打猎 (英语六级单词)
- retired [ri´taiəd] a.退休的；通职的 (英语六级单词)
- dreamy [´dri:mi] a.心不在焉的；朦胧的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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