词汇：aware

adj. 知道的；意识到的；有…方面知识的；懂世故的

相关场景

“It didn’t take no spying, she took it right in the saloon,” Lippy said. “It was watch or go blind.” He was aware, as all the hands were, that Dish was mighty in love, but Dish was not the first cowboy to fall in love with a whore, and Lippy didn’t feel he had to make too many concessions to the situation.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Before he could strike the second blow, Jake shot him. It surprised him as much as it did the nester, for he was not aware of having pulled his gun. The bullet caught the nester in the breast and knocked him back against the wagon. He dropped the shotgun, and as he was sliding to the ground, Jake shot again, the second shot as much a surprise to him as the first. It was as if his arm and his gun were acting on their own. But the second shot also hit the old nester in the breast. He slid to the ground and rolled partly under the wagon on top of his own shotgun.
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“Think of it,” Augustus said. “You start off to Montana with a bunch of cattle and some hungry hands. By the time you get there the hands will have et the cattle and you’re back at nothing. Then the Cheyenne or the Sioux will wipe out the hands, and that’ll leave you.” “What about yourself?” Call asked. “You’re along.” “I’ll have stopped and got married, probably,” Augustus said. “It’s time I started my family.” “Are you marrying Lorie, then, Gus?” Dish asked, in sudden panic. He was aware that Gus had saved Lorena from a bad fate and supposed she might be going to marry him in gratitude.
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Then, at the same moment, Jim, Hutto, and he himself all became aware that someone was there who hadn’t been. It was July Johnson, standing behind Jim with his pistol drawn and cocked.
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The storm turned out to be just a heavy shower. In ten minutes the rain lightened, and soon it was barely sprinkling. The sun had set, but to the west there was a clear band of sky under the clouds, and the clouds were thinning. The band of sky became red with afterglow. Above it, as the clouds thinned, there was a band of white, and then a deep blue, with the evening star in it. Roscoe dismounted and stood there dripping, aware that he ought to be planning some form of defense but unable to think of any. It seemed to him the storm might have discouraged the two men—maybe one of them had even been struck by lightning.
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“Then why do you keep running around with this bunch of half-outlaws you call Texas Rangers? There’s men in this troop who won’t piss unless you point to a spot. But when a little thing like Maggie, who ain’t the strongest person in the world, gets a need for you, you head for the river and clean your gun.” “Well, I might need my gun,” Call said. But he was aware that Gus always got the better of their arguments.
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“Well, your little plan failed,” he said to the mare. He knew that with a little better luck she would have been loose and gone. She didn’t fight at all when he remounted, and she showed no sign of wanting to buck anymore. Call kept her in a trot for a mile or two before letting her go back to the lope. He didn’t expect her to try it again. She was too intelligent to waste her energies at a time when she knew he would be set for trouble. Somehow she had sensed that he had his mind on other things when she exploded. In a way it pleased him—he had never cared for totally docile horses. He liked an animal that was as alert as he was—or, in the mare’s case, even more alert. She had been aware of his preoccupations, whereas he had had no inkling of her intentions.
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“It ain’t a mistake to behave like a human being once in a while,” Augustus said. “Poor Maggie got her heart broke, but she gave you a fine son before she quit.” “You don’t know that and I don’t want to talk about it,” Call said. “He could be yours, or Jake’s, or some damn gambler’s.” “Yes, but he ain’t, he’s yours,” Augustus said. “Anybody with a good eye can see it. Besides, Maggie told me. She and I were good friends.” “I don’t know about friends,” Call said. “I’m sure you were a good customer.” “The two can overlap,” Augustus pointed out, well aware that his friend was not happy to have such a subject broached.
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Roscoe was painfully aware that he had to make a decision. It was near midday and he had only covered a few miles. The girl was a handy person to have along on a trip, he had to admit. On the other hand, she was a runaway, and it would all be hard to explain to July.
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“I said we oughta get married,” Louisa said loudly. “What I like about you is you’re quiet. Jim talked every second that he didn’t have a whiskey bottle in his mouth. I got tired of listening. Also, you’re skinny. If you don’t last, you’ll be easy to bury. I’ve buried enough husbands to take such things into account. What do you say?” “I don’t want to,” Roscoe said. He was aware that it sounded impolite but was too startled to say otherwise.
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“Are you snake-bit, Pea?” he asked, for in the confusion a man could get wounds he wasn’t aware of. He had known more than one man to take bullets without noticing it; one Ranger had been so frightened when his wound was pointed out to him that he died of fright, not the bullet.
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To make matters worse, one particular red cow had begun to irritate him almost beyond endurance. She had developed a genius for wiggling into thickets and just stopping. Shouting made no impression on her at all—she would stand in the thicket looking at him, well aware that she was safe. Once Newt dismounted, planning to scare her on foot, but she lowered her head menacingly and he abandoned that idea.
更糟糕的是，一头特别的红牛开始让他几乎无法忍受。她已经发展出一种在灌木丛中扭动身体并停下来的天才。大喊大叫根本没有给她留下任何印象——她会站在灌木丛里看着他，很清楚自己是安全的。有一次，纽特下马，打算步行吓唬她，但她威胁地低下了头，他放弃了这个想法。
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To his great relief the running cattle soon slowed. The brush was so thick it checked them as a herd, though the same thicket soon divided them into several groups. The bunch Newt was with soon slowed to a trot and then a walk. Mouse’s sides were slick with sweat. Newt felt it was a miracle that he was still alive. Then he heard pistol shots ahead and to his right—a string of cracks, the sound instantly taken by the wind. The wind seemed to be increasing. When he tried to straighten up in the saddle it was like pushing with his back against a heavy door. He tried to turn Mouse, because he still hoped to get back to the rear, where he belonged, but Mouse wouldn’t turn. It angered Newt—he was supposed to be making the decisions, not Mouse. The horse would circle, but he wouldn’t go into the wind, and Newt finally gave up, aware that he probably couldn’t find the wagon or the main herd anyway.
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Already he could feel a change in the wind. The day had been still, but there was a hot breath against his cheek, coming from the south. He had waited out many such winds in Lonesome Dove, with the sand whirling up from Mexico so fast it felt like birdshot when it hit the skin. The Hell Bitch looked around restlessly, well aware of what was coming.
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“Well, if you was earning it, the man wouldn’t have got away in the first place,” Peach continued. “You could have shot him down, which would have been no more than he deserved.” Roscoe was uneasily aware that he was held culpable in some quarters for Jake’s escape. The truth was, the killing had confused him, for he had been a good deal fonder of Jake than of Ben. Also it was a shock and a surprise to find Ben lying in the street with a big hole in him. Everyone else had been surprised too—Peach herself had fainted. Half the people in the saloon seemed to think the mule skinner had shot Ben, and by the time Roscoe got their stories sorted out Jake was long gone. Of course it had been mostly an accident, but Peach didn’t see it that way. She wanted nothing less than to see Jake hang, and probably would have if Jake had not had the good sense to leave.
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He remembered that when he declared his love her eyes hadn’t changed at all—it was as if he had suggested she sweep out the bar. She had only tolerated him to avoid a scene with Jake, and had seemed scarcely aware that he had given her nearly two hundred dollars, four times as much as Gus. It was enough to buy her passage to San Francisco. But she had merely taken it and shut the door. It was cruel, love.
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But after a week, Lorena became aware of a curious thing: Jake was more attached to her than she was to him. The fact struck her late one afternoon while she was watching him nap. He had insisted on a root, and gone right to sleep afterward; while the sweat was cooling on them she realized she wasn’t excited about him in the way she had been the first day. The first day had been one of the big days of her life, because of the smooth way Jake had shown up and taken over, ending her long period of tension and discomfort.
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Gus himself often joked about it. “If you got killed I might work harder,” he said. “I might get in a righteous frame of mind if I had that stimulation. But you ain’t kilt, so what’s the point?” Call wasted no time getting back, wishing all the way that he had the mare. She had spoiled him—made him too aware of the limitations of his other mounts. The fact that she was dangerous made him like her the more. She made him extra watchful, which was good.
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Though aware that Dish might be touchy on the subject, Jasper was curious about what had happened to change Lorie so.
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“You ought to see what’s coming,” he said. “Gus has put them dern midgets a-horseback.” Newt had a hard time getting his eyes open. As soon as the chase was over, sleep had begun trying to pull him down. If Pedro Flores had ridden up and offered to shoot him he didn’t think he would much care, since it would at least mean more sleep. He knew cowboys were supposed to be able to stay in the saddle two or three days at a stretch without sleep, but he was guiltily aware that he had not yet learned the trick. When Dish poked him, his hat fell off, and when he got down to get it his legs felt as heavy as if somebody had put lead in his boots. He would have liked to say something to Sean O’Brien, who looked as tired as he was, but he couldn’t think of a word to say.
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Instead, Jake had walked in. Lippy gave a whoop, and Xavier was excited enough that he came out from behind the bar and shook Jake’s hand. Jake was polite and glad to see them, and took the trouble to ask their health and make a few jokes, but even before he had drunk the free drink Xavier offered him he had begun to make a difference in the way she felt. He had big muddy brown eyes and a neat mustache that turned down at the corners, but of course she had seen big eyes and mustaches before. What made the difference was that Jake was so at home and relaxed even after he saw her sitting there. Most men got nervous when they saw her, aware that their wives wouldn’t like them being in the same room with her, or else made nervous by the thought of what they wanted from her, which they couldn’t get without some awkward formalities of a sort that few of them could handle smoothly.
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“You could always get married,” Dish observed dryly. “There’s plenty of women who can make biscuits.” It was not the first time Pea had had that particular truth pointed out to him. “I know there is,” he said. “But that don’t mean there’s one of ’em that would have me.” Deets gave a rich chuckle. “Why, the widow Cole would have you,” he said. “She’d be pleased to have you.” Then, well aware that the widow Cole was something of a sore spot with Pea, he walked off toward the house.
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Deets noticed his discouragement and did what he could to help pick his spirits up. Sometimes he helped out with jobs that were too much for Newt, and whenever a chance for complimenting a piece of work came, Deets paid the compliment himself. It was a help, though it couldn’t always make up for the feeling Newt had that the Captain held something against him. Newt had no idea what it could be, but it seemed there was something. Deets was the only one beside himself who seemed to be aware of it, but Newt could never work up the nerve to question Deets about it directly—he knew Deets wouldn’t want to talk about such things. Deets didn’t talk much anyway. He tended to express himself more with his eyes and his hands.
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“Oh, we cow a little,” Pea said. “How much cowing are you likely to need?” “I need forty horses, which it says on that sign you sell,” Wilbarger said. “A dern bunch of Mexicans run off dern near all of our remuda two nights back. I’ve got a herd of cattle gathered up the other side of the Nueces, and I don’t plan to walk ’em to Kansas on foot. A feller told me you men could supply horses. Is that true?” “Yep,” Pea Eye said. “What’s more, we can even chase Mexicans.” “I’ve got no time to discuss Mexicans,” Wilbarger said. “If you gentlemen could just trot out about forty well-broke horses we’ll pay you and be on our way.” Newt felt a little embarrassed. He was well aware that forty horses was out of the question, but he had hated to come right out and say so. Also, as the youngest member of the outfit, it was not his responsibility to be the spokesman.
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Newt was deeply in love with Lorena Wood, though so far he had not even had an opportunity to speak to her. He was painfully aware that if the chance for personal speech ever did arise he would have no idea what to say. On the rare occasions when he had an errand that took him by the saloon he lived in terror, afraid some accident might occur which would actually force him to speak to her. He wanted to speak to Lorena, of course—it represented the very summit of his life’s hopes—but he didn’t want to have to do it until he had decided on the best thing to say, which so far he had not, though Lorena had been in town for several months, and he had been in love with her from the moment he first glimpsed her face.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇