词汇：bitch

n. 母狗，母狼；泼妇；牢骚事

相关场景

“I despise all you fine-haired sons of bitches,” Blue Duck said. “You Rangers. I expect I’ll kill a passel of you yet.” “I doubt it,” Call said. “Not unless you can fly.” Blue Duck smiled a cold smile. “I can fly,” he said. “An old woman taught me. And if you care to wait, you’ll see me.” “I’ll wait,” Call said.
“我鄙视你们这些漂亮的狗娘养的，”蓝鸭说。“你们这些流浪者。我想我还会杀了你们中的一部分。”“我怀疑，”Call说。“除非你能飞。”蓝鸭冷冷地笑了笑。“我能飞，”他说。“一位老妇人教我的。如果你愿意等，你会看到我的。”“我会等的，”Call说。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I owe him a debt for cleaning out that mangy bunch on the Canadian,” Goodnight said. “I’d have soon had to do it myself, if he hadn’t.” “Well, he’s past collecting debts,” Call said. “Anyway he let that dern killer get away.” “No shame to McCrae,” Goodnight said. “I let the son of a bitch get away myself, and more than once, but a luckier man caught him. He butchered two families in the Bosque Redondo, and as he was leaving a deputy sheriff made a lucky shot and crippled his horse They ran him down and mean to hang him in Santa Rosa next week. If you spur up you can see it.” “Well, I swear,” Call said. “You going?” “No,” Goodnight said. “I don’t attend hangings, although I’ve presided over some, of the homegrown sort. This is the longest conversation I’ve had in ten years. Goodbye.” Call took the buggy over Raton Pass and edged down into the great New Mexican plain. Though he had seen nothing but plains for a year, he was still struck by the immense reach of land that lay before him. To the north, there was still snow on the peaks of the Sangre de Cristo. He hurried to Santa Rosa, risking further damage to the wagon, only to discover that the hanging had been put back a week.
“我欠他一笔债，因为他清理了加拿大人身上那堆肮脏的东西，”晚安说。“如果他没有的话，我很快就得自己做了。”“好吧，他已经不再收债了，”Call说。“不管怎样，他让那个现代杀手逃走了。”“麦克雷不丢脸，”晚安说。“我自己让这个狗娘养的逃脱了，不止一次，但一个更幸运的人抓住了他。他在博斯克雷东多屠杀了两个家庭，在他离开时，一名副警长幸运地开枪打伤了他的马。他们把他撞倒了，打算下周在圣罗莎绞死他。如果你振作起来，你就能看到。”“好吧，我发誓，”Call说。“你要去吗？”“不，”晚安说。“我不参加绞刑，尽管我主持过一些本土的绞刑。这是我十年来最长的一次谈话。再见。”Call驾驶着马车越过拉顿山口，缓缓驶入新墨西哥州的大平原。虽然他一年来只看到了平原，但他仍然被面前广阔的土地所震撼。北面，基督山的山峰上还下着雪。他匆忙赶到圣罗莎，冒着马车进一步损坏的风险，却发现绞刑已经放回一周了。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He thought often of the men he had left up on the Milk, and of the boy. He had not expected the parting to go as it had, and could not get his mind off it. For several hundred miles, down through Montana and Wyoming, he left them all over again in his mind, day after day. He imagined many times that he had said things he had not said, and, from concentrating on it too much as he traveled down the plains, he began to grow confused. He missed being able to sit at the corrals and watch Newt work with the horses. He wondered if the boy was handling the Hell Bitch well and if any more men had left the ranch.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I’ll tell you one thing, I may shoot that bull yet,” Needle said. “I’ve put up with that son of a bitch about long enough. The Captain may like him, but I don’t.” Newt heard the talk, but didn’t speak. He knew the Captain had left him with too much, but he didn’t say it. He would have to try and do the work, even if he no longer cared.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Dern, Newt,” Pea Eye said, more astonished than he had ever been in his life. “He gave you his horse and his gun and that watch. He acts like you’re his kin.” “No, I ain’t kin to nobody in this world,” Newt said bitterly. “I don’t want to be. I won’t be.” Despair in his heart, he mounted the Hell Bitch as if he had ridden her for years, and turned downstream. He felt he never wanted to hope for anything again, and yet no more than a minute later the strange hope struck him that the Captain might have turned back. He might have forgotten something—perhaps an order he had meant to give. Even that he would have welcomed. It felt so lonely to think of the Captain being gone. But when he turned to look, the Captain was merely a speck on the long plain. He was gone, and things would never be as Newt had hoped—never. Somehow it had been too hard for the Captain, and he had left.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
And yet, when he looked at Newt, standing there in the cold wind, with Canada behind him, Call found he couldn’t speak at all. It was as if his whole life had suddenly lodged in his throat, a raw bite he could neither spit out nor swallow. He had once seen a Ranger choke to death on a tough bite of buffalo meat, and he felt that he was choking, too—choking on himself. He felt he had failed in all he had tried to be: the good boy standing there was evidence of it. The shame he felt was so strong it stopped the words in his throat. Night after night, sitting in front of Wilbarger’s tent, he had struggled with thoughts so bitter that he had not even felt the Montana cold. All his life he had preached honesty to his men and had summarily discharged those who were not capable of it, though they had mostly only lied about duties neglected or orders sloppily executed. He himself was far worse, for he had been dishonest about his own son, who stood not ten feet away, holding the reins of the Hell Bitch.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Call rode up to the three men, dismounted and, to everyone’s surprise unsaddled the Hell Bitch and put the saddle on Jerry. Then he led the Hell Bitch over to where Newt stood.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He was riding the Hell Bitch and leading Greasy, the big mule that had come with them all the way from Texas, and a rangy dun named Jerry, the mount he preferred after the Hell Bitch. Augustus’s old sign was tied to the pack mule.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He lived in the tent all winter, keeping the men working but taking little interest in the result. Sometimes he hunted, taking the Hell Bitch and riding off onto the plains. He always killed game but was not much interested in the hunt. He went because he no longer felt comfortable around the men. The Indians had not bothered them, and the men did well enough by themselves. Soupy Jones had assumed the top-hand role, once Dish left, and flourished in it. The other men did well too, although there was some grumbling and many small disputes. Hugh Auld and Po Campo became friends and often tramped off together for a day or two so Hugh could show Po Campo some pond where there were still beaver, or some other interesting place he knew about. Lippy, starved for music, played the accordion and spent nearly the whole winter trying to make a fiddle from a shoebox. The instrument yielded a powerful screeching sound, but none of the cowboys were ready to admit that the sound was music.
他整个冬天都住在帐篷里，让工人们继续工作，但对结果不感兴趣。有时他会狩猎，带走地狱婊子，然后骑到平原上。他总是杀死猎物，但对狩猎不太感兴趣。他去了，因为他不再觉得和那些人在一起很舒服。印第安人没有打扰他们，他们自己也做得很好。迪什离开后，Soupy Jones担任了首席执行官，并在其中大放异彩。其他人也做得很好，尽管有一些抱怨和许多小纠纷。休·奥尔德（Hugh Auld）和波坎波（Po Campo）成了朋友，经常一起徒步一两天，这样休就可以带波坎波去看一个仍然有海狸的池塘，或者他知道的其他有趣的地方。渴望音乐的利皮演奏手风琴，几乎整个冬天都在用鞋盒制作小提琴。乐器发出强烈的尖叫声，但没有一个牛仔愿意承认这是音乐。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
When the Captain returned a week later with an order for three hundred beeves to be delivered to Fort Benton by Christmas, Newt was in the little sapling corral they had built, working with a hammer-headed bay. He looked nervously at the Captain, expecting to be reprimanded for changing jobs, but Call merely sat on the Hell Bitch and watched. Newt tried to ignore the fact that he was there—he didn’t want to get nervous and upset the bay. He had discovered that if he talked a lot and was soothing in what he said it had a good effect on the horse he was working with. He murmured to the bay while the Captain watched. Finally Call dismounted and unsaddled. It pleased him to see the quiet way the boy worked. He had never been one for talk when there was work to be done—it was his big point of difference with Gus, who could do nothing without talking. He was glad the boy was inclined to his way. When they drove the beeves to Fort Benton he took Newt and two other men with him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Them’s beaver,” Old Hugh kept saying. “You trap beaver, you don’t shoot ’em. A bullet will ruin the pelt and the pelt’s the whole point.” “Well, I hate the little toothy sons of bitches,” Jasper said. “The pelts be damned.” Call kept riding northwest until even Old Hugh began to be worried. The great line of the Rockies was clear to the west.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
When he got back to the livery stable he found old man Gill drinking from a jug. It reminded him of Gus, for the old man would hook one finger through the loop of the jug and throw back his head and drink. He was sitting in the wheelbarrow, his pitchfork across his lap, glaring at the Hell Bitch.
当他回到马厩时，他发现吉尔老人正在用水罐喝水。这让他想起了格斯，因为老人会用一根手指钩住罐子的环，然后仰起头喝水。他坐在独轮车里，腿上放着干草叉，怒视着那个该死的婊子。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“People got opinions, that’s all they’ve got,” the old man grumbled. “If somebody was to go and come back, now that’s an opinion I’d listen to.” The old man forked the Hell Bitch a little hay. When he stood watching her eat, the mare snaked out her neck and tried to bite him, causing the old man to stumble backward and nearly stumble over his own pitchfork.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The Hell Bitch looked up when he came into the livery stable, where he had put her. He felt an impulse to saddle her and ride out into the country, but weariness overcame him and he threw his bedroll on some straw and lay down. He couldn’t sleep, though. He regretted not trying harder to save Gus. He should have disarmed him at once and seen that the other leg was amputated. Of course, Gus might have shot him, but he felt he should have taken the risk.
当地狱婊子走进他放她的马厩时，他抬起头来。他有一种冲动，想给她套上马鞍，骑马到乡下去，但他感到疲倦，于是把床单扔在稻草上躺下。不过，他睡不着。他后悔没有更加努力地救格斯。他应该立刻解除他的武装，并看到另一条腿被截肢了。当然，格斯可能开枪打死了他，但他觉得自己应该冒这个险。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Woodrow, I wish you’d relax,” Augustus said. “You can’t save me, and it would be a pity if we fought at this stage. I might kill you accidentally and them boys would sit out on the plains and freeze.” Call didn’t answer. He felt tired and old and sad. He had pressed the mare all day and all night, had easily found the river where the battle took place, recovered Pea Eye’s rifle and even his boots and shirt, found Gus’s saddle, and raced for Miles City. He had risked ruining the Hell Bitch—he hadn’t, though she was tired—and still he had arrived too late. Gus would die, and all he could do was keep a death watch.
>> 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
To the amazement of all who saw it, the bear batted the Texas bull aside. He rose on his hind legs again, dealt the bull a swipe with his forepaw that knocked the bull off its feet. The bull was up in a second and charged the bear again—this time it seemed the bear almost skinned him. He hit the bull on the shoulder and ripped a capelike piece of skin loose on his back, but despite that, the bull managed to drive into the bear and thrust a horn into his flank. The bear roared and dug his teeth into the bull’s neck, but the bull was still moving, and soon bear and bull were rolling over and over in the dust, the bull’s bellows and the bear’s roar so loud that the cattle did panic and begin to run. The Hell Bitch danced backward, and Augustus’s horse began to pitch again and threw him, though Augustus held the rein and managed to get his rifle out of the scabbard before the horse broke free and fled. Then Call found himself thrown too; the Hell Bitch, catlike, had simply doubled out from under him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Call drew his rifle and tried to urge the Hell Bitch a little closer, but had no luck. She moved, but she moved sideways, always keeping her eyes fixed on the bear, though it was a good hundred and fifty yards away. No matter how he spurred her, the mare sidestepped, as if there were an invisible line on the prairie that she would not cross.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Call, though, was so tired he felt his mind slipping. Try as he might, he couldn’t stay awake. Once he slept for a few steps, then jerked awake, convinced he was fighting again the battle of Fort Phantom Hill. He looked around for Indians, but saw only the thirst-blinded cattle, their long tongues hanging out, their breath rasping. His mind slipped again, and when he awoke next it was dark. The Hell Bitch was trotting. When he opened his eyes he saw the Texas bull trot past him. He reached for his reins, but they were not there. His hands were empty. Then, to his amazement, he saw that Deets had taken his reins and was leading the Hell Bitch.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He was riding the Hell Bitch, but for long moments he imagined he was riding old Ben again—a mule he had relied on frequently during his campaigning on the llano. Ben had had an infallible sense of direction and a fine nose for water. He wasn’t fast but he was sure. At the time, some men had scoffed at him for riding a mule, but Call ignored them. The stakes were life or death, and Ben was the most reliable animal he had ever seen, if far from the prettiest.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Call felt sick with worry—the sandstorm was the worst possible luck, for it slowed down the herd and sapped the animals’ strength just when they needed all they had just to reach the water. And yet there was nothing he could do about it. He tried to tie an old shirt around the Hell Bitch’s eyes, but she shook him off so vigorously that he finally let it go.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It had seemed unnecessary. They exchanged information, and that was about it. Pea, indeed, had always been a little doubtful of the propriety of talking to Negroes, although he liked and respected Deets and was grateful to him now for trimming the horse’s feet. He knew Deets was a great deal more competent than he was in many areas—tracking, for example. He knew that if it had not been for Deets’s skill in finding water they might have all starved years before in campaigns on the llano. He knew, too, that Deets had risked his life a number of times to save his, and yet, standing there side by side, the only thing he could think of to talk about was the Captain’s great love for the Hell Bitch.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
All day he rode west, and the country around him grew more bleak. Not fit for sheep, Call thought. Not hardly fit for lizards—in fact, a small gray lizard was the only life he saw all day. That night he made a dry camp in sandy country where the dirt was light-colored, almost white. He supposed he had come some sixty miles and could not imagine that the herd would make it that far, although the Hell Bitch seemed unaffected. He slept for a few hours and went on, arriving just after sunup on the banks of Salt Creek. It was not running, but there was adequate water in scattered shallow pools. The water was not good, but it was water. The trouble was, the herd was nearly eighty miles back—a four-day drive under normal conditions; and in this case the miles were entirely waterless, which wouldn’t make for normal conditions.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I’ll have a look in the morning,” Call said. “You rest, Deets.” He found he couldn’t sleep, and rose at three to saddle the Hell Bitch. Po Campo was up, stirring the coals of his cookfire, but Call only took a cup of coffee.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“’I god, this is a hardheaded lot,” Augustus said, walking over to Ben Rainey. He took the candy sack and helped himself to a piece. “Hardly a one of you will take good advice.” Call mounted the Hell Bitch, slowly re-coiling his rope. Several townspeople had witnessed the fight. Most were still standing there, watching the man on the gray mare.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇