章节正文
looks of those rapids."
Only a few hundred rods of the river could be seen. In front of Hare the
current was swift but not broken. Above, where the canyon turned, the
river sheered out with a majestic roll and falling in a wide smooth curve
suddenly narrowed into a leaping crest of reddish waves. Below Hare was
a smaller rapid where the broken water turned toward the nearer side of
the river, but with an accompaniment of twisting swirls and vicious
waves.
"I guess we'd better risk it," said Hare, grimly recalling the hot rock,
the sand, and lava of the desert.
"It's safe, if Silvermane is a good swimmer," replied Mescal. "We can
take the river above and cut across so the current will help."
"Silvermane loves the water. He'll make this crossing easily. But he
can't carry us both, and it's impossible to make two trips. I'll have to
swim."
Without wasting more words and time over a task which would only grow
more formidable with every look and thought, Hare led Silvermane up the
sand-bar to its limit. He removed his coat and strapped it behind the
saddle; his belt and revolver and boots he hung over the pommel.
"How about Wolf? I'd forgotten him."
"Never fear for him! He'll stick close to me."
"Now, Mescal, there's the point we want to make, that bar; see it?"
"Surely we can land above that."
"I'll be satisfied if we get even there. You guide him for it. And,
Mescal, here's my gun. Try to keep it from getting wet. Balance it on
the pommel--so. Come, Silver; come, Wolf."
"Keep up-stream," called Mescal as Hare plunged in. "Don't drift below
us."
In two steps Silvermane went in to his saddle, and he rolled with a
splash and a snort, sinking Mescal to her hips. His nose level with the
water, mane and tail floating, he swam powerfully with the current.
For Hare the water was just cold enough to be delightful after the long
hot descent, but its quality was strange. Keeping up-stream of the horse
and even with Mescal, he swam with long regular strokes for perhaps
one-quarter of the distance. But when they reached the swirling eddies
he found that he was tiring. The water was thick and heavy; it
compressed his lungs and dragged at his feet. He whirled round and round
in the eddies and saw Silvermane doing the same. Only by main force
could he breast his way out of these whirlpools. When a wave slapped his
face he tasted sand, and then he knew what the strange feeling meant.
There was sand here as on the desert. Even in the depths of the canyon
he could not escape it. As the current grew rougher he began to feel
that he could scarcely spread his arms in the wide stroke. Changing the
stroke he discovered that he could not keep up with Silvermane, and he
changed back again. Gradually his feet sank lower and lower, the water
pressed tighter round him, his arms seemed to grow useless. Then he
remembered a saying of August Naab that the Navajos did not attempt to
swim the river when it was in flood and full of sand. He ceased to
struggle, and drifting with the current, soon was close to Silvermane,
and grasped a saddle strap.
"Not there!" called Mescal." He might strike you. Hang to his tail!"
Hare dropped behind, and catching Silvermane's tail held on firmly. The
stallion towed him easily. The waves dashed over him and lapped at
Mescal's waist. The current grew stronger, sweeping Silvermane down out
of line with
The black wall which had frowned closer and closer. Mescal lifted the
rifle, and resting the stock on the saddle, held it upright. The roar of
the rapids seemed to lose its volume, and presently it died in the
splashing and slapping of broken water closer at hand. Mescal turned to
him with bright eyes; curving her hand about her lips she shouted:
"Can't make the bar! We've got to go through this side of the rapids.
Hang on!"
In the swelling did Hare felt the resistless pull of the current. As he
held on with both hands, hard pressed to keep his grasp, Silvermane
dipped over a low fall in the river. Then Hare was riding the rushing
water of an incline. It ended below in a red-crested wave, and beyond
was a chaos of curling breakers. Hare had one glimpse of Mescal
crouching low, shoulders narrowed and head bent; then, with one white
flash of the stallion's mane against her flying black hair, she went out
of sight in leaping waves and spray. Hare was thrown forward into the
backlash of the wave. The shock blinded him, stunned him, almost tore
his arms from his body, but his hands were so twisted in Silvermane's
tail that even this could not loosen them. The current threw him from
wave to wave. He was dragged through a caldron, blind from stinging
blows, deaf from the tremendous roar. Then the fiercecontention of
waves lessened, the threshing of crosscurrents straightened, and he could
breathe once more. Silvermane dragged him steadily; and, finally, his
feet touched the ground. He could scarcely see, so full were his eyes of
the sandy water, but he made out Mescal rising from the river on
Silvermane, as with loud snorts he climbed to a bar. Hare staggered up
and fell on the sand.
"Jack, are you all right?" inquired Mescal.
"All right, only' pounded out of breath, and my eyes are full of sand.
How about you?"
"I don't think I ever was any wetter," replied Mescal, laughing." It was
hard to stick on holding the rifle. That first wave almost unseated me.
I was afraid we might strike the rocks, but the water was deep.
Silvermane is grand, Jack. Wolf swam out above the rapids and was
waiting for us when we landed."
Hare wiped the sand out of his eyes and rose to his feet, finding himself
little the worse for the adventure. Mescal was wringing the water from
the long straight braids of her hair. She was smiling, and a tint of
color showed in her cheeks. The wet buckskin blouse and short skirt
clung tightly to her slender form. She made so pretty a picture and
appeared so little affected by the peril they had just passed through
that Hare, yielding to a tender rush of pride and possession, kissed the
pink cheeks till they flamed.
"All wet," said he, "you and I, clothes, food, guns--everything."
"It's hot and we'll soon dry," returned Mescal. "Here's the canyon and
creek we must follow up to Coconina. My peon mapped them in the sand for
me one day. It'll probably be a long climb."
Hare poured the water out of his boots, pulled them on, and helping
Mescal to mount Silvermane, he took the bridle over his arm and led the
way into a black-mouthed canyon, through which flowed a stream of clear
water. Wolf splashed and pattered along beside him. Beyond the marble
rock this canyon opened out to great breadth and wonderful walls. Hare
had eyes only for the gravelly bars and shallow levels of the creek;
intent on finding the easy going for his horse he strode on and on
thoughtless of time. Nor did he talk to Mescal, for the work was hard,
and he needed his breath. Splashing the water, hammering the stones,
Silvermane ever kept his nose at Hare's elbow. They climbed little
ridges, making short cuts from point to point, they threaded miles of
narrow winding creek floor, and passed under ferny cliffs and over grassy
banks and through thickets of yellow willow. As they wound along the
course of the creek, always up and up, the great walls imperceptibly
lowered their rims. The warm sun soared to the zenith. Jumble of
bowlders, stretches of white gravel ridges of sage, blocks of granite,
thickets of manzanita long yellow slopes, crumbling crags, clumps of
cedar and lines of pinon--all were passed in the persistent plodding
climb. The canyon grew narrower toward its source; the creek lost its
volume; patches of snow gleamed in sheltered places. At last the
yellow-streaked walls edged out upon a grassy hollow and the great dark
pines of Coconina shadowed the snow.
"We're up," panted Hare." What a climb! Five hours! One more day--then
home!"
Silvermane's ears shot up and Wolf barked. Two gray deer loped out of a
thicket and turned inquisitively. Reaching for his rifle Hare threw back
the lever, but the action clogged, it rasped with the sound of crunching
sand, and the cartridge could not be pressed into the chamber or ejected.
He fumbled about the breach of the gun and his brow clouded.
"Sand! Out of commission!" he exclaimed." Mescal, I don't like that."
"Use your Colt," suggested Mescal.
The distance was too great. Hare missed, and the deer bounded away into
the forest.
Hare built a fire under a sheltering pine where no snow covered the soft
mat of needles, and while Mescal dried the blankets and roasted the last
portion of meat he made a wind-break of spruce boughs. When they had
eaten, not forgetting to give Wolf a portion, Hare fed Silvermane the
last few handfuls of grain, and tied him with a long halter on the grassy
bank. The daylight failed and darkness came on apace. The old familiar
roar of the wind in the pines was disturbing; it might mean only the lull
and crash of the breaking night-gusts, and it might mean the north wind,
storm, and snow. It whooped down the hollow, scattering the few
scrub-oak leaves; it whirled the red embers of the fire away into the
dark to sputter in the snow, and blew the burning logs into a white glow.
Mescal slept in the shelter of the spruce boughs with Wolf snug and warm
beside her. Hare stretched his tired limbs in the heat of the blaze.
When he awakened the fire was low and he was numb with cold. He took
care to put on logs enough to last until morning; then he lay down once
more, but did not sleep. The dawn came with a gray shade in the forest;
it was a cloud, and it rolled over him soft, tangible, moist, and cool,
and passed away under the pines. With its vanishing the dawn lightened.
"Mescal, if we're on the spur of Coconina, it's only ten miles or so to
Silver Cup," said Hare, as he saddled Silvermane. "Mount now and we'll
go up out of the hollow and get our bearings."
While ascending the last step to the rim Hare revolved in his mind the
probabilities of marking a straight course to Silver Cup.
"Oh! Jack!" exclaimed Mescal, suddenly." Vermillion Cliffs and home!"
"I've travelled in a circle!" replied Hare.
Mescal was enraptured at the scene. Vermillion Cliffs shone red as a
rose. The split in the wall marking the oasis defined its outlines
sharply against the sky. Miles of the Colorado River lay in sight. Hare
knew he stood on the highest point of Coconina overhanging the Grand
Canyon and the Painted Desert, thousands of feet below. He noted the
wondrous abyss sleeping in blue mist at his feet, while he gazed across
to the desert awakening in the first red rays of the rising sun.
"Mescal, your Thunder River Canyon is only one little crack in the rocks.
It is lost in this chasm," said Hare.
"It's lost, surely. I can t even see the tip of the peak that stood so
high over the valley."
Once more turning to the left Hare ran his eye over the Vermillion
Cliffs, and the strip of red sand shining under them, and so calculating
his bearings he headed due north for Silver Cup. What with the snow and
the soggy ground the first mile was hard going for Hare, and Silvermane
often sank deep. Once off the level spur of the mountain they made
better time, for the snow thinned out on the slope and gradually gave way
to the brown dry aisles of the forest. Hare mounted in front of Mescal,
and put the stallion to an easy trot; after two hours of riding they
struck a bridle-trail which Hare recognized as one leading down to the
spring. In another hour they reached the steep slope of Coconina, and
saw the familiar red wall across the valley, and caught glimpses of gray
sage patches down through the pines.
"I smell smoke," said Hare.
"The boys must be at the spring," rejoined Mescal.
"Maybe. I want to be sure who's there. We'll leave the trail and slip
down through the woods to the left. I wish we could get down on the home
side of the spring. But we can't; we've got to pass it."
With many a pause to peer through openings in the pines Hare traversed a
diagonal course down the slope, crossed the line of cedars, and reached
the edge of the valley a mile or more above Silver Cup. Then he turned
toward it, still cautiously leading Silvermane under cover of the fringe
of cedars.
"Mescal, there are too many cattle in the valley," he said, looking at
her significantly.
"They can't all be ours, that's sure," she replied." What do you think?"
"Holderness!" With the word Hare's face grew set and stern. He kept on,
cautiously leading the horse under the cedars, careful to avoid breaking
brush or rattling stones, occasionally whispering to Wolf; and so worked
his way along the curve of the woody slope till further progress was
checked by the bulging wall of rock.
"Only cattle in the valley, no horses," he said. "I've a good chance to
Only a few hundred rods of the river could be seen. In front of Hare the
current was swift but not broken. Above, where the canyon turned, the
river sheered out with a majestic roll and falling in a wide smooth curve
suddenly narrowed into a leaping crest of reddish waves. Below Hare was
a smaller rapid where the broken water turned toward the nearer side of
the river, but with an accompaniment of twisting swirls and vicious
waves.
"I guess we'd better risk it," said Hare, grimly recalling the hot rock,
the sand, and lava of the desert.
"It's safe, if Silvermane is a good swimmer," replied Mescal. "We can
take the river above and cut across so the current will help."
"Silvermane loves the water. He'll make this crossing easily. But he
can't carry us both, and it's impossible to make two trips. I'll have to
swim."
Without wasting more words and time over a task which would only grow
more formidable with every look and thought, Hare led Silvermane up the
sand-bar to its limit. He removed his coat and strapped it behind the
saddle; his belt and revolver and boots he hung over the pommel.
"How about Wolf? I'd forgotten him."
"Never fear for him! He'll stick close to me."
"Now, Mescal, there's the point we want to make, that bar; see it?"
"Surely we can land above that."
"I'll be satisfied if we get even there. You guide him for it. And,
Mescal, here's my gun. Try to keep it from getting wet. Balance it on
the pommel--so. Come, Silver; come, Wolf."
"Keep up-stream," called Mescal as Hare plunged in. "Don't drift below
us."
In two steps Silvermane went in to his saddle, and he rolled with a
splash and a snort, sinking Mescal to her hips. His nose level with the
water, mane and tail floating, he swam powerfully with the current.
For Hare the water was just cold enough to be delightful after the long
hot descent, but its quality was strange. Keeping up-stream of the horse
and even with Mescal, he swam with long regular strokes for perhaps
one-quarter of the distance. But when they reached the swirling eddies
he found that he was tiring. The water was thick and heavy; it
compressed his lungs and dragged at his feet. He whirled round and round
in the eddies and saw Silvermane doing the same. Only by main force
could he breast his way out of these whirlpools. When a wave slapped his
face he tasted sand, and then he knew what the strange feeling meant.
There was sand here as on the desert. Even in the depths of the canyon
he could not escape it. As the current grew rougher he began to feel
that he could scarcely spread his arms in the wide stroke. Changing the
stroke he discovered that he could not keep up with Silvermane, and he
changed back again. Gradually his feet sank lower and lower, the water
pressed tighter round him, his arms seemed to grow useless. Then he
remembered a saying of August Naab that the Navajos did not attempt to
swim the river when it was in flood and full of sand. He ceased to
struggle, and drifting with the current, soon was close to Silvermane,
and grasped a saddle strap.
"Not there!" called Mescal." He might strike you. Hang to his tail!"
Hare dropped behind, and catching Silvermane's tail held on firmly. The
stallion towed him easily. The waves dashed over him and lapped at
Mescal's waist. The current grew stronger, sweeping Silvermane down out
of line with
The black wall which had frowned closer and closer. Mescal lifted the
rifle, and resting the stock on the saddle, held it upright. The roar of
the rapids seemed to lose its volume, and presently it died in the
splashing and slapping of broken water closer at hand. Mescal turned to
him with bright eyes; curving her hand about her lips she shouted:
"Can't make the bar! We've got to go through this side of the rapids.
Hang on!"
In the swelling did Hare felt the resistless pull of the current. As he
held on with both hands, hard pressed to keep his grasp, Silvermane
dipped over a low fall in the river. Then Hare was riding the rushing
water of an incline. It ended below in a red-crested wave, and beyond
was a chaos of curling breakers. Hare had one glimpse of Mescal
crouching low, shoulders narrowed and head bent; then, with one white
flash of the stallion's mane against her flying black hair, she went out
of sight in leaping waves and spray. Hare was thrown forward into the
backlash of the wave. The shock blinded him, stunned him, almost tore
his arms from his body, but his hands were so twisted in Silvermane's
tail that even this could not loosen them. The current threw him from
wave to wave. He was dragged through a caldron, blind from stinging
blows, deaf from the tremendous roar. Then the fiercecontention of
waves lessened, the threshing of crosscurrents straightened, and he could
breathe once more. Silvermane dragged him steadily; and, finally, his
feet touched the ground. He could scarcely see, so full were his eyes of
the sandy water, but he made out Mescal rising from the river on
Silvermane, as with loud snorts he climbed to a bar. Hare staggered up
and fell on the sand.
"Jack, are you all right?" inquired Mescal.
"All right, only' pounded out of breath, and my eyes are full of sand.
How about you?"
"I don't think I ever was any wetter," replied Mescal, laughing." It was
hard to stick on holding the rifle. That first wave almost unseated me.
I was afraid we might strike the rocks, but the water was deep.
Silvermane is grand, Jack. Wolf swam out above the rapids and was
waiting for us when we landed."
Hare wiped the sand out of his eyes and rose to his feet, finding himself
little the worse for the adventure. Mescal was wringing the water from
the long straight braids of her hair. She was smiling, and a tint of
color showed in her cheeks. The wet buckskin blouse and short skirt
clung tightly to her slender form. She made so pretty a picture and
appeared so little affected by the peril they had just passed through
that Hare, yielding to a tender rush of pride and possession, kissed the
pink cheeks till they flamed.
"All wet," said he, "you and I, clothes, food, guns--everything."
"It's hot and we'll soon dry," returned Mescal. "Here's the canyon and
creek we must follow up to Coconina. My peon mapped them in the sand for
me one day. It'll probably be a long climb."
Hare poured the water out of his boots, pulled them on, and helping
Mescal to mount Silvermane, he took the bridle over his arm and led the
way into a black-mouthed canyon, through which flowed a stream of clear
water. Wolf splashed and pattered along beside him. Beyond the marble
rock this canyon opened out to great breadth and wonderful walls. Hare
had eyes only for the gravelly bars and shallow levels of the creek;
intent on finding the easy going for his horse he strode on and on
thoughtless of time. Nor did he talk to Mescal, for the work was hard,
and he needed his breath. Splashing the water, hammering the stones,
Silvermane ever kept his nose at Hare's elbow. They climbed little
ridges, making short cuts from point to point, they threaded miles of
narrow winding creek floor, and passed under ferny cliffs and over grassy
banks and through thickets of yellow willow. As they wound along the
course of the creek, always up and up, the great walls imperceptibly
lowered their rims. The warm sun soared to the zenith. Jumble of
bowlders, stretches of white gravel ridges of sage, blocks of granite,
thickets of manzanita long yellow slopes, crumbling crags, clumps of
cedar and lines of pinon--all were passed in the persistent plodding
climb. The canyon grew narrower toward its source; the creek lost its
volume; patches of snow gleamed in sheltered places. At last the
yellow-streaked walls edged out upon a grassy hollow and the great dark
pines of Coconina shadowed the snow.
"We're up," panted Hare." What a climb! Five hours! One more day--then
home!"
Silvermane's ears shot up and Wolf barked. Two gray deer loped out of a
thicket and turned inquisitively. Reaching for his rifle Hare threw back
the lever, but the action clogged, it rasped with the sound of crunching
sand, and the cartridge could not be pressed into the chamber or ejected.
He fumbled about the breach of the gun and his brow clouded.
"Sand! Out of commission!" he exclaimed." Mescal, I don't like that."
"Use your Colt," suggested Mescal.
The distance was too great. Hare missed, and the deer bounded away into
the forest.
Hare built a fire under a sheltering pine where no snow covered the soft
mat of needles, and while Mescal dried the blankets and roasted the last
portion of meat he made a wind-break of spruce boughs. When they had
eaten, not forgetting to give Wolf a portion, Hare fed Silvermane the
last few handfuls of grain, and tied him with a long halter on the grassy
bank. The daylight failed and darkness came on apace. The old familiar
roar of the wind in the pines was disturbing; it might mean only the lull
and crash of the breaking night-gusts, and it might mean the north wind,
storm, and snow. It whooped down the hollow, scattering the few
scrub-oak leaves; it whirled the red embers of the fire away into the
dark to sputter in the snow, and blew the burning logs into a white glow.
Mescal slept in the shelter of the spruce boughs with Wolf snug and warm
beside her. Hare stretched his tired limbs in the heat of the blaze.
When he awakened the fire was low and he was numb with cold. He took
care to put on logs enough to last until morning; then he lay down once
more, but did not sleep. The dawn came with a gray shade in the forest;
it was a cloud, and it rolled over him soft, tangible, moist, and cool,
and passed away under the pines. With its vanishing the dawn lightened.
"Mescal, if we're on the spur of Coconina, it's only ten miles or so to
Silver Cup," said Hare, as he saddled Silvermane. "Mount now and we'll
go up out of the hollow and get our bearings."
While ascending the last step to the rim Hare revolved in his mind the
probabilities of marking a straight course to Silver Cup.
"Oh! Jack!" exclaimed Mescal, suddenly." Vermillion Cliffs and home!"
"I've travelled in a circle!" replied Hare.
Mescal was enraptured at the scene. Vermillion Cliffs shone red as a
rose. The split in the wall marking the oasis defined its outlines
sharply against the sky. Miles of the Colorado River lay in sight. Hare
knew he stood on the highest point of Coconina overhanging the Grand
Canyon and the Painted Desert, thousands of feet below. He noted the
wondrous abyss sleeping in blue mist at his feet, while he gazed across
to the desert awakening in the first red rays of the rising sun.
"Mescal, your Thunder River Canyon is only one little crack in the rocks.
It is lost in this chasm," said Hare.
"It's lost, surely. I can t even see the tip of the peak that stood so
high over the valley."
Once more turning to the left Hare ran his eye over the Vermillion
Cliffs, and the strip of red sand shining under them, and so calculating
his bearings he headed due north for Silver Cup. What with the snow and
the soggy ground the first mile was hard going for Hare, and Silvermane
often sank deep. Once off the level spur of the mountain they made
better time, for the snow thinned out on the slope and gradually gave way
to the brown dry aisles of the forest. Hare mounted in front of Mescal,
and put the stallion to an easy trot; after two hours of riding they
struck a bridle-trail which Hare recognized as one leading down to the
spring. In another hour they reached the steep slope of Coconina, and
saw the familiar red wall across the valley, and caught glimpses of gray
sage patches down through the pines.
"I smell smoke," said Hare.
"The boys must be at the spring," rejoined Mescal.
"Maybe. I want to be sure who's there. We'll leave the trail and slip
down through the woods to the left. I wish we could get down on the home
side of the spring. But we can't; we've got to pass it."
With many a pause to peer through openings in the pines Hare traversed a
diagonal course down the slope, crossed the line of cedars, and reached
the edge of the valley a mile or more above Silver Cup. Then he turned
toward it, still cautiously leading Silvermane under cover of the fringe
of cedars.
"Mescal, there are too many cattle in the valley," he said, looking at
her significantly.
"They can't all be ours, that's sure," she replied." What do you think?"
"Holderness!" With the word Hare's face grew set and stern. He kept on,
cautiously leading the horse under the cedars, careful to avoid breaking
brush or rattling stones, occasionally whispering to Wolf; and so worked
his way along the curve of the woody slope till further progress was
checked by the bulging wall of rock.
"Only cattle in the valley, no horses," he said. "I've a good chance to
- saddle [´sædl]
n.鞍子 v.装鞍(于) (初中英语单词) - delightful [di´laitful] a.讨人喜欢的 (初中英语单词)
- useless [´ju:sləs] a.无用的，无价值的 (初中英语单词)
- firmly [´fə:mli] ad.坚固地，稳定地 (初中英语单词)
- volume [´vɔlju:m, ´vɑljəm] n.卷；书籍；体积；容量 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- incline [in´klain] v.(使)倾斜 n.斜坡 (初中英语单词)
- glimpse [glimps] n.&v.瞥见 (初中英语单词)
- tremendous [tri´mendəs] a.可怕的；巨大的 (初中英语单词)
- fierce [fiəs] a.残忍的；强烈的 (初中英语单词)
- steadily [´stedili] ad.坚定地；不断地 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- slender [´slendə] a.细长的；微薄的 (初中英语单词)
- stream [stri:m] n.河 vi.流出；飘扬 (初中英语单词)
- shallow [´ʃæləu] a.肤浅的；表面的 (初中英语单词)
- willow [´wiləu] n.柳树 (初中英语单词)
- portion [´pɔ:ʃən] n.嫁妆；命运 vt.分配 (初中英语单词)
- daylight [´deilait] n.日光；黎明 (初中英语单词)
- sleeping [´sli:piŋ] n.&a.睡着(的) (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)
- occasionally [ə´keiʒənəli] ad.偶然地；非经常地 (初中英语单词)
- majestic [mə´dʒestik] a.雄伟的；崇高的 (高中英语单词)
- grimly [´grimli] ad.严厉地；坚强地 (高中英语单词)
- formidable [´fɔ:midəbəl] a.可怕的；艰难的 (高中英语单词)
- descent [di´sent] n.出身，家世 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- sweeping [´swi:piŋ] a.掠过的 n.扫除；清除 (高中英语单词)
- upright [´ʌprait] a.直立的 ad.直立地 (高中英语单词)
- loosen [´lu:sən] v.放松；松弛 (高中英语单词)
- finding [´faindiŋ] n.发现物；判断；结果 (高中英语单词)
- tightly [´taitli] ad.紧，紧密地 (高中英语单词)
- bridle [´braidl] n.(马)笼头；束缚 (高中英语单词)
- breadth [bredθ] n.宽度，幅面，广度 (高中英语单词)
- strode [strəud] stride的过去式 (高中英语单词)
- gravel [´grævəl] n.砾石 vt.铺砾石 (高中英语单词)
- persistent [pə´sistənt] a.坚持的；固执的 (高中英语单词)
- chamber [´tʃeimbə] n.房间；议院；会议室 (高中英语单词)
- breach [bri:tʃ] n.&v.破坏；违犯 (高中英语单词)
- spruce [spru:s] n.云杉木 a.&v.整洁 (高中英语单词)
- colorado [,kɔlə´rɑ:dəu] n.科罗拉多(州) (高中英语单词)
- cautiously [´kɔ:ʃəsli] ad.小心地；谨慎地 (高中英语单词)
- canyon [´kænjən] n.峡谷 (英语四级单词)
- reddish [´rediʃ] a.带红色的；微红的 (英语四级单词)
- accompaniment [ə´kʌmpənimənt] n.伴随物；伴奏(唱) (英语四级单词)
- wasting [´weistiŋ] a.&n.浪费(的) (英语四级单词)
- revolver [ri´vɔlvə] n.左轮手枪；旋转者 (英语四级单词)
- contention [kən´tenʃən] n.论点；竞争；争论 (英语四级单词)
- blouse [blauz] n.女衬衫；短上衣 (英语四级单词)
- grassy [´grɑ:si] a.多草的；青草味的 (英语四级单词)
- august [ɔ:´gʌst] a.尊严的；威严的 (英语六级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- affected [ə´fektid] a.做作的；假装的 (英语六级单词)
- zenith [´ziniθ] n.天顶，顶点；全盛 (英语六级单词)
- jumble [´dʒʌmbəl] n.搞乱，混乱 (英语六级单词)
- cartridge [´kɑ:tridʒ] n.弹药筒；子弹 (英语六级单词)
- halter [´hɔ:ltə] n.缰绳，绞索 (英语六级单词)
- awakening [ə´weikəniŋ] n.&a.觉醒(中的) (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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