词汇:quick

n. 伤口的嫩肉;核心

相关场景

The men were all starving, so Call allowed them to stop for a quick feed, but only a quick one. It was looking like rain again. He knew the Canadian was near and he wanted to cross it before more rains came; otherwise they might be trapped for a week.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Bert was inordinately proud of his skill with a rope, the men thought. He was indeed quick and accurate, but the men were tired of hearing him brag on himself and were constantly on the lookout for things he could rope that might cause him to miss. Once Bert had silenced them for a whole day by roping a coyote on the first throw, but they were not the sort of men to keep silent long.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He had a little dream about the wild pigs, not too frightening. The pigs were not as wild as they had been in real life. They were just rooting around a cabin and not trying to harm him, yet he woke in a terrible fright and saw something incomprehensible. Janey was standing a few feet in front of him, with a big rock raised over her head. She was holding itwith both hands—why would she do such a thing at that time of night? She wasn’t making a sound; she just stood in front of him holding the rock. It was not until she flung it that he realized someone else was there. But someone was: someone big. In his surprise, Roscoe forgot he had a pistol. He quickly stood up. He didn’t see where the rock went, but Janey suddenly dropped to her knees. She looked around at him. “Shoot at him,” she said. Roscoe remembered the pistol, which was cocked, but before he could raise it, the big shadow that Janey had thrown the rock at slid close to him and shoved him—not a hard shove, but it made him drop the pistol. He knew he was awake and not dreaming, but he didn’t have any more strength than he would have had in a dream in terms of moving quick. He saw the big shadow standing by him but he had felt no fear, and the shadow didn’t shove him again. Roscoe felt warm and sleepy and sat back down. It was like he was in a warm bath. He hadn’t had too many warm baths in his life, but he felt like he was in one and was ready for a long snooze. Janey was crawling, though—crawling right over his legs. “Now what are you doing?” he said, before he saw that her eyes were fixed on the pistol he had dropped. She wanted the pistol, and for some reason crawled right over his legs to get to it. But before she got to it the shadow came back. “Why, you’re a fighter, ain’t you?” the shadow man said. “If I wasn’t in such a hurry I’d show you a trick or two.” Then he raised his arms and struck down at her; Roscoe couldn’t see if it was with an ax or what, but the sound was like an ax striking wood, and Janey stopped moving and lay across his legs. “Joe?” Roscoe said; he had just remembered that he had made Joe stop cocking and uncocking his rifle so he could get to sleep.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Blue Duck kicked Lorena twice more. “You ain’t worth selling,” Blue Duck said. “The Kiowas can have you.” “What about me?” Monkey John asked. “What about my half interest?” “I won back your half interest,” Blue Duck said. “I won the Kiowas’ half too.” “Then how come you’re giving her to the goddamn Kiowas?” Monkey John said. “Give her to me.” “No, I want them to carve her up,” Blue Duck said. “It might put some spirit in them, so they can go out tomorrow and run that old Ranger to ground.” “Hell, I’m as mean as they are,” Monkey John said. “I can finish him, if he comes around here.” Blue Duck mounted. “You ain’t half as mean as they are,” he said. “And if McCrae comes around here you better step quick or you’ll be plugged. He got Ermoke, and Ermoke was three times the fighter you are.” He opened his pack, took out a bottle of whiskey and pitched it to the Indians. Then he said something to them in their language and rode away toward the river.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Once when the buffalo hunter was reloading, Gus took a quick shot at him, raising his barrel to compensate for the range.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Blue Duck was the only man of the bunch who seemed to take no interest in her. He had stolen her to sell, and he had sold her. It was clear that he didn’t care what they did to her. When he was in camp he spent his time cleaning his gun or smoking and seldom even looked her way. Monkey John was bad, but Blue Duck still scared her more. His cold, empty eyes frightened her more than Monkey John’s anger or Dog Face’s craziness. Blue Duck had scared the talk completely out of her. She had never been much for talk, but her silence in the camp was different from her old silence. In Lonesome Dove she had often hidden her words, but she could find them if she needed them; she had brought them out quick enough when Jake came along.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“He’s quick, Blue Duck,” Aus said. “Has some Kiowas with him. They ate my dog.” “How many Kiowas?” Augustus asked.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I don’t intend to spend the night here,” July said. “Has she got a horse?” “No, but she’s quick of foot,” Roscoe said. “She’s been keeping ahead of me without no trouble. Where are we going?” “To Fort Worth,” July said. “The sheriff there will probably be glad to get these men.” “Yes, he will, the son of a bitch,” Hutto said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Newt ate another of his own accord and Deets ate four or five more. Then Deets persuaded Pea Eye to try one and Pea ate two or three. To everyone’s surprise, Call strolled over and ate a couple; in fact, he had a sweet tooth and couldn’t resist the molasses. Dish decided he had to eat one to keep up his reputation, and then the Rainey boys each ate a couple to imitate Newt. Pete Spettle walked over and ate two and then Soupy, Needle and Bert each tried one. The remaining grasshoppers went quick, and before Jasper could make up his mind to try one they were all gone.
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They’re quick as rabbits.” “No, I am going to fry some for Newt,” Po Campo said. “He claims he has never eaten a good fried grasshopper dipped in molasses. It makes a good dessert if you fry them crisp.” The crew burst out laughing at the thought of eating grasshoppers. Po Campo chuckled too. He had already dismantled his little grill and was scouring the frying pan with a handful of weeds.
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“What’d he do, jump over a bush and throw you?” Pea asked. “I was always skittish about them small horses—they can get out from under you too quick.” “He’ll play hell doing it again,” Newt said, feeling very angry at Mouse. He ordinarily wouldn’t have spoken so strongly in the presence of Pea, or any adult, but his feelings were ragged. Somehow Pea’s explanation of what had happened made more sense than the truths—so much so that Newt began to half believe it himself. Being thrown was not particularly admirable, but it happened to all cowboys sooner or later, and it was a lot easier to admit to than what had actually occurred.
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Call got his rifle, out of the scabbard and cleaned it, though it was in perfect order. Sometimes the mere act of cleaning a gun, an act he had performed thousands of times, would empty his mind of jarring thoughts and memories—but this time it didn’t work. Gus had jarred him with mention of Maggie, the bitterest memory of his life. She had died in Lonesome Dove some twelve years before, but the memory had lost none of its salt and sting, for what had happened with her had been unnecessary and was now uncorrectable. He had made mistakes in battle and led men to their deaths, but his mind didn’t linger on those mistakes; at least the battles had been necessary, and the men soldiers. He could feel that he hadBut Maggie had not been a fighting man—just a needful young whore, who had for some reason fixed on him as the man who could save her from her own mistakes. Gus had known her first, and Jake, and many other men, whereas he had only visited her out of curiosity to find out what it was that he had heard men talk and scheme about for so long. It turned out not to be much, in his view—a brief, awkward experience, where the pleasure was soon drowned in embarrassment and a feeling of sadness. He ought not to have gone back twice, let alone a third time, yet something drew him back—not so much the need of his own flesh as the helplessness and need of the woman. She had such frightened eyes. He never met her in the saloon but came up the back stairs, usually after dark; she would be standing just inside the door waiting, her face anxious. Some weakness in him brought him back every few nights, for two months or more. He had never said much to her, but she said a lot to him. She had a small, quick voice, almost like a child’s. She would talk constantly, as if to cover his embarrassment at what they had met to do. Some nights he would sit for half an hour, for he came to like her talk, though he had long since forgotten what she had said. But when she talked, her face would relax for a while, her eyes lose their fright. She would clasp his hand while she talked—one night she buttoned his shirt. And when he was ready to leave—always a need to leave, to be away, would come over him—she would look at him with fright in her face again, as if she had one more thing to say but couldn’t say it.
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“You never know,” Augustus said. “I don’t underestimate him, though he’d have to step quick to beat me and Call both.” “He didn’t even look at me,” Lorena said. “I don’t think he’ll come back.” “I imagine he took you in long before he got to camp,” Augustus said. “I ain’t the only one in the world with good eyesight.” “I want to wait for Jake,” Lorena said. “I told him I’d wait.” “Don’t be foolish,” Augustus said. “You didn’t know Blue Duck was around when you told him. The man might decide he wants to use you for fish bait.” Lorena felt it was a test of Jake. She was frightened of the man, and part of her wanted to go with Gus. But she had trusted herself to Jake and she still hoped that he would make good.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Although she knew he would come back in time, she was less and less certain that it mattered, for Jake had taken a grudge against her and she suspected he would be slow to give it up. It was puzzling to her, thinking back on it, why she had been so quick to trust him. Somehow he had convinced her he was the answer to all her problems. She had felt an overpowering feeling of need and trust when he had sat down and began talking to her so friendly. He had seemed as eager to hear her talk as she had been to hear his.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“We didn’t fight on the wrong side,” Call said. “What’s a miracle is that you stayed on the right side of the law for as long as you have. Jake’s too cowardly to be much of an outlaw, but you ain’t.” “I may be one yet,” Augustus said. “It’d be better than ending up like Tobe Walker, roping drunks for a living. Why, the man nearly cried when we left, he wanted to come so bad. Tobe used to be quick, and look at him now, fat as a gopher.” “It’s true he’s put on weight, but then Tobe was always chunky built,” Call said. On that one, though, he suspected Gus was right. Tobe had looked at them sadly when they mounted to ride away.AS FAR AS ROSCOE WAS CONCERNED, travel started bad and got worse. For one thing, it seemed he would never find Texas, a fact that preyed on his mind. From all indications it was a large place, and if he missed it he would be laughed out of Fort Smith—assuming he ever got back.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“He’ll thank me someday,” Augustus said. “It will make him more appealing to the ladies. He looked too much like a long- tailed rat, as it was. With no better manners than he had, I expect he was in for a lonely life.” “Well, I won’t have this!” the young man said loudly. “I don’t know why you old cowboys think you can just walk in and do what you please. What’s that picture doing on the bar?” “Why, it’s just a picture of us boys, back in the days when they wanted to make us senators,” Augustus said. “Willie kept iton the mirror there so when we happened in we could see how handsome we used to look.” “I’m a notion to call the sheriff and have the two of you arrested,” the young man said. “Shooting in my bar is a crime, and I don’t care what you done twenty years ago. You can get out of here and be quick about it or you’ll end up spending your night in jail.” He got angrier as he spoke.
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“I guess it ain’t, old-timer,” he said. “Rye, or what will it be?” “Rye will do, provided it gets here quick,” Augustus said, straining to be polite.
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“Well, you’re a goddamn liar, then,” Jake said. “Once a whore, always a whore. I won’t stand for it. Next time I’ll take a rope to you.” After he ate his bacon he saddled and rode off without another word—to go gamble, she supposed. Far from being scared, Lorena was relieved. Jake’s angers were light compared to some she had known, but it was no pleasure having him around when he was so hot. Probably he thought to scare her, riding off so quick and leaving her in camp, but she felt no fear at all. The herd and all the boys were only a mile away. No one would be likely to bother her with the cow camp so close.
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“Because I ain’t spry like I used to be,” Augustus said. “Used to be I was quick to duck any kind of trouble. I could roll off a horse quicker than a man can blink. I’m still faster than some folks, but I ain’t as fast as I was.” The wagon made the crossing easily, and the two blue pigs, who had been ambling along behind it, walked in and swam the San Antonio river.
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Augustus waited for Allen O’Brien, who was the last to mount. He was so weak from shock, it seemed he might not be able to, but he finally got on his horse and rode off, looking back until the grave was hidden by the tall gray grass. “It seems too quick,” he said. “It seems very quick, just to ride off and leave the boy. He was the babe of our family,” he added.
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“Well, I’ll say a word,” Augustus said. “This was a good, brave boy, for we all saw that he conquered his fear of riding. He had a fine tenor voice, and we’ll all miss that. But he wasn’t used to this part of the world. There’s accidents in life and he met with a bad one. We may all do the same if we ain’t careful.” He turned and mounted old Malaria. “Dust to dust,” he said. “Lets the rest of us go on to Montana.” He’s right, Call thought. The best thing to do with a death was to move on from it. One by one the cowboys mounted and went off to the herd, many of them taking a quick last look at the muddy grave under the tree.
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Newt turned his horse and followed the Captain, feeling that he was doing wrong. He should have said something to Sean, even if Sean couldn’t hear him. He wanted to tell Sean to go on and find a boat somewhere and go back to Ireland quick, whatever the Captain might think. Now he knew Sean was going to die, and that it was forever too late for him to find the boat, but he wanted to say it anyway. He had had a chance to say it, but had missed it.
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In the short lulls in the wind he could hear the clicking of long horns, as the cattle bumped into one another in the darkness. They were walking slowly, and Newt let Mouse walk along beside them. He had worried as much as he could, and he simply rode, his mind blank. It seemed like he had been riding long enough for the night to be over, but it wasn’t, and the sand still stung his skin. He was surprised suddenly by a flicker of light to the west—so quick and so soon lost that he didn’t at first recognize it as lightning. But it flickered again and soon was almost constant, though still far away. At first Newt welcomed it—it enabled him to see that he was still with the several hundred cattle, and also helped him avoid thickets.
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It was in his first moment of blindness that the cattle began to run, as if pushed into motion by the river of sand. Newt heard Soupy’s horse break into a run, and Mouse instantly was running too, but running where, Newt had no idea. He dug a finger into his eyes, hoping to get the sand out, but it was like grinding them with sandpaper. Tears flowed, but the sand turned them to mud on his lashes. Now and then he could get a blurred glimpse out of one eye, and at the first glimpsewas horrified to discover that he was in among the cattle. A horn nudged his leg, but Mouse swerved and nothing more happened. Newt stopped worrying about seeing and concentrated on keeping his seat. He knew Mouse could leap any bush not higher than his head. He felt a horrible sense of failure, for surely he had not done his job. The Captain had not meant for him to stay near the head of the herd; he was there because he had not moved quick enough, and it was his fault if he was doomed, as he assumed he was. Once he thought he heard a whoop and was encouraged, but the sound was instantly sucked away by the wind—the wind keened like a cry, its tone rising over the lower tone of the pounding hooves. When Newt began to be able to see again, it did him little good, for it was then almost pitch-dark.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Roscoe regretted his quick words. July was touchy on the subject of his new wife. It was probably because she was several years older and had been married before. In Fort Smith it was generally considered that she had made a fool of July, though since she was from Kansas no one knew much about her past.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇