词汇：wound/waʊnd , wuːnd/

n. 伤口;(心灵上的)伤，创伤;(武器造成的)伤 vt. 使(身体)受伤;(用武器)伤害;伤感情 to injure part of the body, especially by making a hole in the skin using a weapon

相关场景

Call remembered he had told the young couple that he only had a short way to travel. It showed that his mind was probably going, for he had no place in particular to travel at all. Worn out, and with a festering wound, he was in no shape to turn back for Montana, and Jerry, the dun, could never have made the trip, even if he himself could have. He didn’t know that he wanted to go back, for that matter. He had never felt that he had any home on the earth anyway. He remembered riding to Texas in a wagon when just a boy—his parents were already dead. Since then it had been mostly roaming, the years in Lonesome Dove apart.
电话里记得他告诉这对年轻夫妇，他只有很短的路要走。这表明他的头脑可能在动，因为他根本没有特别的地方去旅行。他疲惫不堪，伤口溃烂，无法返回蒙大拿州，而那个黄褐色的杰瑞，即使他自己能去，也永远无法成行。就这点而言，他不知道他想回去。他从来没有觉得自己在地球上有家。他记得当他还是个孩子的时候，他坐着马车去了德克萨斯州——他的父母已经死了。从那以后，它大部分时间都在漫游，除了在孤独鸽子的那些年。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Call supposed the dun would die too, but the horse walked on to the Colorado. After that, there was little more to fear, although his wound festered somewhat, and leaked. It reminded him of Lippy—often his eyes would fill when he thought of the boys left up north.
Call以为那只dun也会死，但那匹马还是走到了科罗拉多州。在那之后，没有什么可害怕的了，尽管他的伤口有点溃烂，而且漏了。这让他想起了里皮——每当他想起留在北方的男孩们，他的眼睛就会充满泪水。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Call knew he could never drag the coffin all the way to Austin—he himself would be lucky to get across the bleached, waterless land to the Colorado or the San Saba. On the other hand he had no intention of leaving Gus, now that he had brought him so far. He broke open the coffin and rewrapped his friend’s remains in the tarp he had been using for a bed cover on wet nights—there were few of those to worry about. Then he lashed the bundle to Gus’s sign, itself well weathered, with most of the lettering worn off. He cut down a small salt-cedar and made a crude axle, fixing the sign between the two buggy wheels. It was more travois than buggy, but it moved. He felt his wound a trifle less every day, though he knew it had been a small-bore bullet that hit him. A larger bore and he would be down and probably dead.
Call知道他永远无法把棺材拖到奥斯汀——他自己很幸运能穿过漂白的无水土地到达科罗拉多州或圣萨巴州。另一方面，既然他已经带他走了这么远，他就不打算离开格斯。他打开棺材，用湿漉漉的夜晚用来盖床罩的防水布重新包裹了朋友的遗体——这样的事情很少需要担心。然后，他把那捆东西绑在格斯的标志上，标志本身风化得很好，大部分字母都磨掉了。他砍下一棵小盐雪松，做了一个粗糙的车轴，把标志固定在两个车轮之间。与其说是马车，不如说是拖车，但它动了。尽管他知道是一颗小口径子弹击中了他，但他每天都觉得自己的伤口少了一点。更大的口径，他会倒下，可能会死。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He crossed the river and waited all day and all night, but never saw the other three again. His wound felt minor, though the bullet was somewhere in him, and would have to stay until he made Austin, he knew.
他过了河，日夜等待，但再也没有见过其他三个人。他知道，虽然子弹就在他身上的某个地方，但他的伤口感觉很小，必须一直待到他到达奥斯汀。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
On the day of the hanging the square in front of the courthouse was packed with spectators. Call had to tie his animals over a hundred yards away—he wanted to get started as soon as the hanging was over. He worked his way to the front of the crowd and watched as Blue Duck was moved from the jail to the courthouse in a small wagon under heavy escort. Call thought it likely somebody would be killed accidentally before it was over, since all the deputies were so scared they had their rifles on cock. Blue Duck was as heavily chained as ever and still had the greasy rag tied around his head wound. He was led into the courthouse and up the stairs. The hangman was making last-minute improvements on the hangrope and Call was looking off, thinking he saw a man who had once served under him in the crowd, when he heard a scream and a sudden shattering of glass. He looked up and the hair on his neck rose, for Blue Duck was flying through the air in his chains. It seemed to Call the man’s cold smile was fixed on him as he fell: he had managed to dive through one of the long glass windows on the third floor—and not alone, either. He had grabbed Deputy Decker with his handcuffed hands and pulled him out too. Both fell to the stony ground right in front of the courthouse. Blue Duck hit right on his head, while the Deputy had fallen backwards, like a man pushed out of a hayloft. Blue Duck didn’t move after he hit, but the deputy squirmed and cried. Tinkling glass fell about the two men.
绞刑当天，法院前的广场上挤满了观众。Call不得不把他的动物绑在一百码外——他想在绞刑结束后马上开始。他一路走到人群的前面，看着蓝鸭在严密的护送下被一辆小货车从监狱搬到法院。Call认为很可能有人会在比赛结束前意外身亡，因为所有的代表都非常害怕，他们把步枪都拔了起来。蓝鸭像以前一样被重重地拴着，头上的伤口上还绑着那块油腻的抹布。他被带进法院，上了楼梯。刽子手在最后一刻对吊绳进行了改进，Call转头看去，以为他在人群中看到了一个曾经在他下面服务过的人，这时他听到了一声尖叫和突然的玻璃破碎声。他抬头一看，脖子上的头发都竖起来了，因为蓝鸭子正戴着镣铐在空中飞翔。这名男子摔倒时，似乎露出了冷酷的笑容：他设法从三楼的一扇长玻璃窗里钻了进去——而且也不是一个人。他用戴着手铐的手抓住戴克副警长，也把他拉了出来。两人都倒在法院正前方的石头地上。蓝鸭正好撞到他的头上，而副警长却向后倒了下去，就像一个被推下草垛的人。蓝鸭打后一动不动，但副手却扭动着身子哭了起来。叮当作响的玻璃杯落在两个人身上。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The minute Call saw the man he knew it was unlikely. Blue Duck had been shot in the shoulder and leg, and had a greasy rag wound around his forehead, covering another wound. Call had never seen a man so draped in chains. He was handcuffed; each leg was heavily chained; and the chains draped around his torso were bolted to the wall. Two deputies with Winchesters kept constant watch. Despite the chains and bars, Call judged that both were scared to death.
Call一看到那个人，就知道这不太可能。蓝鸭的肩膀和腿中枪，额头上有一块油腻的抹布，盖住了另一个伤口。Call从未见过一个戴着镣铐的男人。他被戴上手铐；每条腿都被重重地锁住了；挂在他身上的链子都栓在墙上了。温彻斯特的两名副手一直在监视。尽管有铁链和栅栏，Call判断两人都吓得要死。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Dish Boggett felt angry. He hadn’t hired on to carpenter either. His first work for the Hat Creek outfit had been well- digging, and his last would be swinging an ax, it appeared. Neither was work fit for a cowhand, and he was on the verge of demanding his wages and standing up for his rights as a free man—but the Captain’s look dissuaded him, and the next morning, when they started the herd east along the Milk, he took the point for the last time. With Old Dog dead, the Texas bull was frequently in the forefront of the drive. He looked ugly, for his wound had been sewn up unevenly, and being one-eyed and one-horned had made him even more irascible. He would often turn and attack anyone who approached him on his blind side. Several men had narrowly escaped disaster, and only the fact that Captain Call favored the bull had kept them from shooting him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I understand your attachment to your own appendages,” he said, opening the bandage. He winced when he looked at the wound, but kept working. “I don’t want to cut your other leg off bad enough to get shot in the process. However, you’ll die if you don’t reconsider. That’s a plain fact.” “Go buy me some more whiskey,” Augustus said. “There’s money in my pants. Is that girl playing the piano a whore?” “Yes, her name is Dora,” the doctor said. “Consumptive, I’m afraid. She’ll never see Philadelphia again.” He began to wrap the leg in a clean bandage.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
What was approaching now was death, he knew. He had faced it before and overridden its motion with his own. To sit and wait for it gave it too many advantages. He had seen many men die of wounds, and had watched the turning of their spirits from active desire to live to indifference. With a bad wound, the moment indifference took over, life began to subside. Few men rose out of it: most lost all impulse toward activity and ended by offering death at least a halfhearted welcome.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
As a student of wounds, he knew just by looking at his leg that he was in trouble. The leg was yellowish, with black streaks striping the yellow. Blood poisoning was a possibility. He knew that if he didn’t get medical attention within the next few days his chances were slim. Even waiting for nightfall might be folly.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Pea Eye let his mind turn slowly. Then he remembered that Gus had been sitting with two guns in his hands, not saying a word, when he waded into the river. He had had that bad wound in his leg.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Howdy, Captain,” Pea Eye said, embarrassed by his own emotion. “You just missed Deets, I guess.” Call saw that Pea Eye was wounded and out of his head. There was blood on his chest from a shoulder wound, the sun had blotched his body, and his feet were swollen the size of a cow’s bladder and cut to shreds.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Well, you are, though,” Augustus said. “Trod carefully.” It was then that the conviction struck Pea Eye that he would never see Gus alive again. Mainly what they were into was just another Indian fight, and all of those had inconveniences. But Gus had never sustained a wound before that Pea could remember. The arrows and bullets that had missed him so many times had finally found him.After the handshake, Gus treated him as if he were already gone. He didn’t offer any messages or say another word. Pea Eye wanted to say something else, but couldn’t think what. Feeling very disconsolate, he waded into the cold water. It was far colder than he had supposed. His legs at once felt numb. He looked back once and could dimly see the cave, but not Gus.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
By morning Augustus had a high fever. Though his leg worried him most, he also had pain in his side. He decided he hadbeen wrong in his first analysis, and that he did have a bullet wound there, after all. The fever had him feeling weak.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Montana mud,” he said. “I ain’t happy about this wound. Maybe this mud will cool it off.” He covered his wound with mud and offered Pea some. “It’s free mud,” he said. “Take some.” Then he felt behind him, trying to judge the wound in his back that Pea had drawn attention to. “It wasn’t a bullet,” he concluded. “I could feel a bullet. It was probably another arrow, only it jiggled out during that run.” The twilight was deepening, the creek bed in shadow, though the upper sky was still light.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Cut,” he said to Pea. “Pretend I’m snake-bit.” Pea went white. He hated even looking at wounds. The thought of cutting Gus made him want to be sick, but the fact that he had a sharp knife helped. He barely touched the skin and the cut was made. The bloody tip of the arrow pokedthrough. Gus shoved the tip on out and then fainted. Pea Eye had to pull the arrow on through. It was as hard as pulling a bolt out of a board, but he got it out.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“One wound at a time,” Augustus said. It took both hands to move the arrow. The skin on his leg began to bulge.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
But the rush never came. Whoever was above them left. The creek bank on their side was already in shadow. Augustus uncocked his pistol and stretched his leg out again. He knew better than to put off anything to do with wounds, so he grasped the arrow and began to push it on through his leg. The pain was severe and caused a cold sweat to break out but at least the arrow moved.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Pea had forgotten it. Sure enough, the front of his shirt was soaked with blood. He took it off and Augustus examined the wound, which was clean. The bullet had gone right through.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Fortunately the Indians were poorly mounted—their horses were no match for the Hat Creek horses, and the two men soon widened the gap between them and their pursuers. They were out of range of arrows, and of bullets too, Pea hoped, but he had hardly hoped it when a bullet stung him just above the shoulder blade. But the creek was only three or four miles ahead. If they could make it there would be time enough to worry about wounds.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
But he saw no buzzards, and a week after the fight the bull was in the herd again. No one had seen him return, but one morning he was there. He had only one horn and one eye, and Po Campo’s sewing job was somewhat uneven, the folds of skin having separated in two or three places—but the bull was ornery as ever, bellowing at the cowboys when they came too close. He resumed his habit of keeping well to the front of the herd. His wounds only made him more irascible; the hands gave him a wide berth.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“It seems a pity to shoot him,” Augustus said. “He fought a draw with a grizzly. Not many critters can say that.” “He can’t walk to Montana with half his skin hanging off his shoulders,” Call pointed out. “The flies will get on that wound and he’ll die anyway.” Po Campo walked to within fifty feet of the bull and looked at him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
When the Texas bull calmed down enough so that it was possible to approach him, his wounds seemed so extensive that Call at first considered shooting him. He had only one eye, the other having been raked out, and the skin had been ripped off his neck and hung like a blanket over one shoulder. There was a deep gash in his flank and a claw wound running almost the whole length of his back. One horn had been broken off at the skull as if with a sledgehammer. Yet the bull still pawed the earth and bellowed when the cowboys rode too close.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Upstairs, sick,” Clara said. “A horse kicked him in the head. It’s a bad wound.” For a second, remembering the silent man upstairs, she thought how unfair life was. Bob was slipping away, and yet that knowledge couldn’t quell her happiness at the sight of Gus and his friends. It was a lovely summer day, too—a fine day for a social occasion.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Come on, July,” she said. “These girls mean to see that we keep up our standards.” He put the rifle back in the saddle scabbard and followed her into the house.AS THE HERD wound across the brown prairies toward the Platte, whoring became the only thing the men could talk about. Of course, they always liked to talk about it, but there had been sections of the drive when they occasionally mentioned other things—the weather, cards, the personalities of horses, trials and tribulations of the past. After Jake’s death they had talked a good deal about the vagaries of justice, and what might cause a pleasant man to go bad. Once in a while they might talk about their families, although that usually ended with everyone getting homesick. Though a popular subject, it was tricky to handle.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇