词汇：trapper
n. 设陷阱捕兽者；捕捉器；矿井风门开关管理员
相关场景
- He found the old trapper, Hugh Auld, sitting in front of the dry goods store. It was a cloudy day and a cool wind blew. The wind had a wintry feel, though it had been hot the day before. Call knew they didn’t have long before winter, and his men were poorly equipped.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “That was the Musselshell River, where you holed up,” he said. “I met that old trapper and he told me. We may take him with us to scout, since he knows the country.” “I wish I had some better whiskey,” Augustus said. “This is a cheap product.” “Well, the saloon’s closed, probably,” Call said.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “You sure you get along with these Indians?” he asked. “I’d be embarrassed if you came to any trouble on my account.” “I won’t,” Old Hugh said. “They’re off stuffing themselves with fresh buffalo meat. I was invited to join ’em but I think I’ll poke along after you, even though I don’t know where you come from.” “A little fart of a town called Lonesome Dove,” Augustus said. “It’s in south Texas, on the Rio Grande.” “Dern,” the old man said, clearly impressed by the information. “You’re a traveling son of a bitch, ain’t you?” “Does this horse have a name?” Augustus asked. “I might need to speak to him.” “I been calling him Custer,” Old Hugh said. “I done a little scouting for the General once.” Augustus paused a minute, looking down at the old trapper. “I got one more favor to ask you,” he said. “Tie me on. I ain’t got strength enough to mount again if I should fall.” The old man was surprised. “I guess you’ve learned some tricks, with all your traveling,” he said. He fixed a rawhide loop around Augustus’s waist and made it tight to the cantle.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “Let me hold him,” she said, reaching for the baby. Augustus was glad to hand the baby over. He had been watching Clara and didn’t enjoy having to divert his attention to a wiggly baby. It was the same old Clara, so far as spirit went, though her body had changed. She was fuller in the bosom, thinner in the face. The real change was in her hands. As a girl she had had delicate hands, with long fingers and tiny wrists. Now it was her hands that drew his eyes: the work she had done had swollen and strengthened them; they seemed as large at the joints as a man’s. She was peeling potatoes with them and handled a knife as deftly as a trapper. Her hands were no longer as beautiful, but they were arresting: the hands of a formidable woman, perhaps too formidable.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇