词汇：throw

vt. 抛；投；掷

相关场景

“I’d like to see her throw rocks better than Frog can shoot,” Roy Suggs said. “I guess Frog could cool her off.” Frog Lip didn’t say much. He was a black man, but Jake didn’t notice anyone giving him many orders. Little Eddie Suggs cooked the supper, such as it was, while Frog Lip sat idle, not even chopping wood for the fire. The horse he rode was the best in the group, a white gelding. It was unusual to see a bandit who used a white horse, for it made him stand out in a group. Frog Lip evidently didn’t care.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
ALMOST AT ONCE, before the group even got out of Texas, Jake had cause to regret that he had ever agreed to ride with the Suggs brothers. The first night he camped with them, not thirty miles north of Dallas, he heard talk that frightened him. The boys were discussing two outlaws who were in jail in Fort Worth, waiting to hang, and Dan Suggs claimed it was July Johnson who had brought them in. The robbers had put out the story that July was traveling with a young girl who could throw rocks better than most men could shoot.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I believe I’ll just stay,” he told the foreman. “I like the view.” He also liked a long-legged whore named Sally Skull—at least that was what she called herself. She ran the whoring establishment for Bill Sloan, who owned the saloon. There were five girls but only three rooms, and with the herds coming through in such numbers the cowboys were in the place practically all the time. Sally had alarm clocks outside the rooms—she gave each man twenty minutes, after which the big alarm clocks went off with a sound like a firebell. When that happened, Sally would throw the door open and watch while the cowboys got dressed. Sally was skinny but tall, with short black hair. She was taller than all but a few of the cowboys, and the sight of her standing there unnerved most of the men so much they could hardly button their buttons. The majority of them were just boys, anyway, and not used to whorehouse customs and alarm clocks.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The Irishman walked up leading his horse and kicking hailstones out of the way. He began to pick up the hailstones and throw them in the river. Soon several of the cowboys were doing it, seeing who could throw the farthest or make the hailstones skip across the water.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The Irishman walked up leading his horse and kicking hailstones out of the way. He began to pick up the hailstones and throw them in the river. Soon several of the cowboys were doing it, seeing who could throw the farthest or make the hailstones skip across the water.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Bert was inordinately proud of his skill with a rope, the men thought. He was indeed quick and accurate, but the men were tired of hearing him brag on himself and were constantly on the lookout for things he could rope that might cause him to miss. Once Bert had silenced them for a whole day by roping a coyote on the first throw, but they were not the sort of men to keep silent long.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Them gut eaters can’t throw dice,” he said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Well, Aus, I see you’ve been busy,” Augustus said. “You’ll be so rich one of these days some bank will come along and rob you. Who do you sell these bones to?” Aus Frank ignored the question. While Augustus watched, he pushed his wheelbarrow up to the bottom of the pyramid of bones and began to throw the bones as high as possible up the pyramid. Once or twice he got a leg bone or thigh bone all the way to the top, but most of the bones hit midway and stuck. In five minutes the big wheelbarrow was empty. Without a word Aus Frank took the wheelbarrow and started back across the prairie.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I couldn’t keep up no longer,” she said. “I thought he’d slow down but he just keeps going.” Joe was so startled to see a girl materialize behind Roscoe that he didn’t say a word. He found it hard to credit that the person who had thrown the rocks could be a girl. Yet he had seen the rocks hit the men. How could a girl throw so hard and straight?
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I suspect that girl has Indian blood,” Hutto said. “She had us ambushed, fair and square, and if she was as good with a pistol as she is with a rock we’d be dead.” “What’s the matter with her?” July asked. “Why won’t she come?” “I don’t know,” Roscoe said. “She don’t take to company, I guess.” July thought it a very odd business. Roscoe had never been one to womanize. In fact, around Fort Smith his skill in avoiding various widow women had often been commented on. And yet he had somehow taken up with a girl who could throw rocks more accurately than most men could shoot.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I never seen so many young ’uns,” Hutto said. “Can this one throw rocks too?” “Who is throwing the rocks?” July asked. He had been about to step in before the rock-throwing started, but the rock- thrower’s accuracy had been so startling that he had waited a few minutes to watch the outcome.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I don’t know, I ain’t counted the gang yet,” Augustus said. “If I run out I can always throw rocks at them.” With that and a nod he rode off. Call felt a little confused. Though the woman was no responsibility of his, he felt like he should be going too. Here he was, stuck with a bunch of cattle, while Gus was riding off to do the work they ought to have done long ago. It didn’t feel right.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“What’d he do, jump over a bush and throw you?” Pea asked. “I was always skittish about them small horses—they can get out from under you too quick.” “He’ll play hell doing it again,” Newt said, feeling very angry at Mouse. He ordinarily wouldn’t have spoken so strongly in the presence of Pea, or any adult, but his feelings were ragged. Somehow Pea’s explanation of what had happened made more sense than the truths—so much so that Newt began to half believe it himself. Being thrown was not particularly admirable, but it happened to all cowboys sooner or later, and it was a lot easier to admit to than what had actually occurred.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The boy, growing up in the village, first with a Mexican family and then with the Hat Creek outfit, was a living reminder of his failure. With the boy there he could never be free of the memory and the guilt. He would have given almost anything just to erase the memory, not to have it part of his past, or in his mind, but of course he couldn’t do that. It was his forever, like the long scar on his back, the result of having let a horse throw him through a glass window.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Soon Roscoe had nothing left in him to throw up but his guts, and he was expecting to see them come up any time. When he finally sat up, feeling extremely weak, he found that they had come to the banks of a wide, shallow river. The soldiers had ignored his illness, but they couldn’t ignore the river.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“He ought to leave that girl and throw in with us,” Call said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Joe had never met a man so careless that he would throw his possessions in a river. But the man seemed as cheerful as if he’d just won a tub of money.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Thank you, men,” he said. “I believe if my mule hadn’t got out soon, he would have learned to live on fish. They’re self- reliant creatures.” “I’m July Johnson and this is Joe,” July said. “You didn’t need to throw away your baggage.” “I’ve suffered no loss,” the man said. “I’m glad I found a river to unload that stuff in. Maybe the fish and the tadpoles will make better use of it than I have.” “Well, I’ve never seen a fish that used a bedroll,” July said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Ed’s a snake,” Louisa said. “Big rattler. I named him after my uncle, because they’re both lazy. I let Ed stay around because he holds down the rodents. He don’t bother me and I don’t bother him. But he hangs out around to the back, so watch out where you throw down your blanket.” Roscoe did watch. He stepped so gingerly, getting his bedding arranged, that it took him nearly twenty minutes to settle down. Then he couldn’t get the thought of the big snake off his mind. He had never heard of anyone naming a snake before, but then nothing she did accorded with any procedure he was familiar with. The fact that she had mentioned the snake meant that he had little chance of getting to sleep. He had heard that snakes had a habit of crawling in with people, and he definitely didn’t want to be crawled in with. He wrapped his blanket around him tightly to prevent Ed from slipping in, but it was a hot sultry night and he was soon sweating so profusely that he couldn’t sleep anyway. There were plenty of grass and weeds around, and every time anything moved in the grass he imagined it to be the big rattler. The snake might get along with Louisa, but that didn’t mean he would accept strangers.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Just before the men reached the river they came out into a clearing a mile or more wide. It was a relief, after the constant battle with the mesquite and chaparral. The grass was tall. Call loped through it with Deets, to look at the crossing. Dish trotted over to Augustus on the trim sorrel he called Mustache, a fine cow horse whose eyes were always watching to see that no rebellious cow tried to make a break for freedom. Dish uncoiled his rope and made a few practice throws at a low mesquite seedling. Then he even took a throw, for a joke, at a low-flying buzzard that had just risen off the carcass of an armadillo.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Now she was done with it. She wanted to throw the sheets, and maybe the mattress and the bed, too, out the window.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It seemed the Irishmen were part of the outfit, though. Their total inexperience was offset by an energy and a will to learn that impressed even Call. He let them stay in the first place, because he was so short-handed he couldn’t afford to turn away any willing hand. By the time more competent men arrived the Irishmen had gotten over their fear of horses and worked with a will. Not being cowboys, they had no prejudice against working on the ground. Once shown the proper way to throw a roped animal, they cheerfully flung themselves on whatever the ropers drug up to the branding fire, even if it was a two-year-old bull with lots of horn and a mean disposition. They had no great finesse, but they were dogged, and would eventually get the creature down.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Newt took the gun and slipped it out of its holster. It smelted faintly of oil—the Captain must have oiled it that day. It was not the first time he had held a pistol, of course. Mr. Gus had given him thorough training in pistol shooting and had even complimented him on his skill. But holding one and actually having one of your own were two different things. He turned the cylinder of the Colt and listened to the small, clear clicks it made. The grip was wood, the barrel cool and blue; the holster had kept a faint smell of saddle soap. He slipped the gun back in its holster, put the gun belt around his waist and felt the gun’s solid weight against his hip. When he walked out into the lots to catch his horse, he felt grown and complete for the first time in his life. The sun was just easing down toward the Western horizon, the bullbats weredipping toward the stone stock tank that Deets and the Captain had built long ago. Deets had already caught Mr. Gus’s horse, a big solid sorrel they called Mud Pie, and was catching his own mount. Newt shook out a loop, and on the first throw caught his own favorite, a dun gelding he called Mouse. He felt he could even rope better with the gun on his hip.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Call did finally notice the motto one day; but only because his horse happened to throw a shoe across the road from thesign. When he got down to pick up the shoe he glanced over and noticed some curious writing below the part about pigs.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I ought to kick you down this hole,” Dish said. “If you hadn’t loaned me that money I’d be halfway to the Matagorda by now.” Augustus walked over to the fence to watch Call work the mare. He was about to throw the saddle on her. He had her snubbed close, but she still had her eye turned so she could watch him in case he got careless.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇