词汇：singing
n. 歌声；歌唱；耳鸣；振鸣
相关场景
The Kiowas, singing and drinking, two with bloody knives still in their hands, didn’t hear the running, but Monkey John suddenly heard it. He jumped to his feet and raised his rifle, but before he could fire she heard a gun go off in the darkness and Monkey John dropped the rifle and slumped to a sitting position, his mouth open as if he were about to say something.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He didn’t have long to enjoy being glad, though. That night they camped on the plains, twenty miles north of Fort Worth.July felt it was all right to sleep without a guard, as there were trail herds on both sides of them. They could hear the night herders singing to the cattle.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
She didn’t. There was not a sound to be heard, except for some coyotes singing about a mile away.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Call could faintly hear the Irishman still singing to the cattle. Once more the Texas bull lowed. He wondered if all men felt such disappointment when thinking of themselves. He didn’t know. Maybe most men didn’t think of themselves.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
She sat on her blankets, enjoying the night. It was deep dusk, and birds—bullbats—were whooshing around—she could see them briefly as shadows against the darkening sky. She and Jake had camped in a little clearing. While she was sipping her coffee, a possum walked within ten feet of her, stopped a moment to look at her stupidly, and walked on. After a while she heard faraway singing—the Irishman was singing to the cattle herd. Deets had told them about the terrible death of his brother.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“If you’d like to sing or something, do it,” Call said. Allen stood a moment, started singing an Irish song in a quavering voice, then broke down crying and couldn’t finish it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
About noon, they were resting under a big mesquite tree. Deets was watching a little Texas bull mount a cow not far away. The little bull hadn’t come from Mexico. He had wandered in one morning, unbranded, and had immediately whipped three larger bulls that attempted to challenge him. He was not exactly rainbow-colored, but his hide was mottled to an unusual extent—part brown, part red, part white, and with a touch here and there of yellow and black. He looked a sight, but he was all bull. Much of the night he could be heard baying; the Irishmen had come to hate him, since his baying drowned out their singing.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
NEWT’S MIND had begun to dwell on the north for long stretches. Particularly at night, when he had nothing to do but ride slowly around and around the herd, listening to the small noises the bedded cattle made, or the sad singing of the Irishmen, he thought of the north, trying to imagine what it must be like. He had grown up with the sun shining, with mesquite and chaparral, armadillos and coyotes, Mexicans and the shallow Rio Grande. Only once had he been to a city: San Antonio. Deets had taken him on one of his banking trips, and Newt had been in a daze from all there was to see.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Newt and the two Irishmen were holding the herd. The Irishmen were particularly good night herders because they could sing; their melodies seemed to soothe the cattle. In fact, the whole camp enjoyed the Irish singing. Newt couldn’t sing a lick, but he had rapidly developed into such a skilled cowhand that Call felt a little guilty for having held him back so long.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Xavier and Lippy, who were used to her long sulks, hardly knew what to think. Neither did Dish Boggett, who happened to walk in. Dish sat down and drank a bottle of whiskey before anybody noticed. Then he got to singing, and everybody laughed at him. Lorena laughed as loud as Lippy, whose lip waved like a flag when he was amused.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
At that point the Captain and Deets walked off, leaving Newt alone with his nervousness and a vast weight of responsibility. It occurred to him that he was closest to their own horses. If the men were well-trained bandits, they might like nothing better than to steal three such horses. The singing might be a trick, a way of throwing the Captain off guard.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“That’s his worry,” Call said. “Not letting him ride away is your worry.” They secured their horses to a little stunted tree and turned toward the hut. The singing had stopped but the voices could still be heard, raised in argument.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
They sounded Irish—but why were Irishmen having a singing party in one of Pedro Flores’ old cow camps? It was an odd situation to have stumbled onto. He had never heard of an Irish vaquero. The whole business was perplexing, but he couldn’t just stand around and wonder about it. The horse herd would soon be on the move.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He could hear the singing plainly, which only increased his puzzlement. The voices weren’t Mexican, nor were they Texan.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
They followed Deets in single file over a low ridge, where they stopped. A flickering light was visible some hundred yards away. When they stopped, Deets’s judgment was immediately borne out. The singing could be plainly heard. The song even sounded familiar.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Deets got down, still listening. “Don’t know,” he said. “Sounded like singin’.” “Why would the vaqueros be singing this time of night?” Call asked.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
For a time Dish lost all sense of what life was about. He even lost the sense that he was a cowboy, the strongest sense he had to work with. He was just a fellow with a glass in his hand, whose life had suddenly turned to mud. The day before he had been a top hand, but what did that mean anymore? Though the day was hot and bright, Dish felt cold and cloudy, so puzzled by the strange business called life that he couldn’t think where to look, much less what to say. He took a drink and then another and then several, and, though life remained cloudy, the inside of the cloud began to be warm. By themiddle of the second bottle he had stopped worrying about Lorie and Jake Spoon and was sitting by the piano, singing “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean,” while Lippy played.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
## [Singing Harmonizes With Harmonica] [Gasps] Mrs. Boss! Mrs. Boss!
>> 澳大利亚乱世情 Australia Movie Script
>> 澳大利亚乱世情 Australia Movie Script