现代大学英语精读2 Unit02

Lesson Two



Pre-class Work



Read the text a third time. Learn the new words and expressions listed below.



Glossary 1



alert

adj. watchful 2 and ready to meet danger



birch

n. 桦树



bough 3

n. a main branch of a tree



cabin

n. a small roughly built house



chase

v. to drive away; to cause to leave



creek 4

n. a long narrow stream



crouch 5

v. to lower the body close to the ground by bending the knees and back



cub 6

n. a young meat-eating wild animal like bear, lion, tiger, wolf, etc.



detain

v. to keep sb. from leaving during a certain time



dim

v. to become less bright



doc

n. (infml AmE) a doctor



drift

v. to be driven along by wind



flake 7

n. a very small flat thin piece that breaks away easily from sth. else; snow ～: 雪花



grasshopper 8

n. 蚱蜢



howl

n. a long loud cry, esp. made by wolves as in pain, anger, etc.



leap

v. to jump high into the air



lick

v. to move the tongue across the surface of sth. in order to eat it or clean it



mantle 9

n. a loose outer sleeveless garment. Here it is used figuratively.



meadow

n. a field with wild grass and flowers



mischievous 10

adj. eager to have fun by playing harmless tricks



muzzle 11

n. the nose and mouth of an animal such as a dog, a wolf or a horse



numb 12

adj. unable to feel anything because of coldness



pace

n. a single step in running or walking



partner

n. sb. who does the same activity with you 伙伴



paw

n. an animal's foot that has nails or claws



pierce

v. to make a hole in or through (sth.) using sth. with a sharp point



pine

n. 松树



poke 13

v. to push or move sth. through a space or opening



puppy

n. a young dog ("puppy-wool" here refers to the wool of the wolf cub)



realize

v. to understand



restless

adj. unwilling 14 or unable to stay quiet and still



rifle

n. a type of gun fired from the shoulder



rocket

n. 火箭



rooster

n. (AmE) a cock



rumble 15

n. a deep continuous rolling sound



shack 16

n. a small and not very strong building



shiver

v. to shake, esp. from cold or fear



slash 17

v. to make a long deep cut with sth. sharp like a knife



smother 18

v. to cover thickly



snarl 19

n. a low angry sound while showing the teeth



soaked

adj. very wet with some liquid



spear

v. 用鱼叉刺



spurt 20

v. to come out quickly and suddenly in a thin, powerful stream



squat 21

v. to sit with your knees bent 22 under you, your bottom off the ground, and balancing on your feet 蹲；蹲坐



squirrel

n. a small animal with a long furry 23 tail that climbs trees and eats nuts 松鼠



stir

v. to move slightly



thicken

v. to become thicker



thrill

v. to feel very happy and excited



toll 24

n. to take a ～: to have a very bad effect on sb. or sth.



trapper

n. a person who catches wild animals for their fur



unchained

adj. without a chain



whimper

v. to make low crying sounds



wiggle

v. (infml) to move in small movements from side to side, or up and down



wolf

n. a wild animal that looks like a large dog and lives and hunts in groups



wool

n. the soft thick hair of sheep and some goats (Here it refers to the hair of the wolf.)



Text A



Maheegun My Brother



Eric Acland



Read the text once for the main idea. Do not refer to the notes, dictionaries or the glossary yet.



The year I found Maheegun, spring was late in coming. That day, I was spearing fish with my grandfather when I heard the faint crying and found the shivering wolf cub.

As I bent down, he moved weakly toward me. I picked him up and put him inside my jacket. Little Maheegun gained strength after I got the first few drops of warm milk in him. He wiggled and soon he was full and warm.

My grandfather finally agreed to let me keep him.

That year, which was my 14th, was the happiest of my life.

Not that we didn't have our troubles. Maheegun was the most mischievous wolf cub ever. He was curious too. Like looking into Grandma's sewing basket — which he upset, scattering 25 thread and buttons all over the floor. At such times, she would chase him out with a broom and Maheegun would poke his head around the corner, waiting for things to quiet down.

That summer Maheegun and I became hunting partners. We hunted the grasshoppers 26 that leaped about like little rockets. And in the fall, after the first snow our games took us to the nearest meadows in search of field mice. By then, Maheegun was half grown. Gone was the puppy-wool coat. In its place was a handsome black mantle.

The winter months that came soon after were the happiest I could remember. They belonged only to Maheegun and myself. Often we would make a fire in the bushes. Maheegun would lay his head between his front paws, with his eyes on me as I told him stories.

It all served to fog my mind with pleasure so that I forgot my Grandpa's repeated warnings, and one night left Maheegun unchained. The following morning in sailed Mrs. Yesno, wild with anger, who demanded Maheegun be shot because he had killed her rooster. The next morning, my grandpa announced that we were going to take Maheegun to the north shack.

By the time we reached the lake where the trapper's shack stood, Maheegun seemed to have become restless. Often he would sit with his nose to the sky, turning his head this way and that as if to check the wind.

The warmth of the stove soon brought sleep to me. But something caused me to wake up with a start. I sat up, and in the moon-flooded cabin was my grandfather standing 27 beside me. "Come and see, son," whispered my grandfather.

Outside the moon was full and the world looked all white with snow. He pointed 28 to a rock that stood high at the edge of the lake. On the top was the clear outline of a great wolf sitting still, ears pointed, alert, listening.

"Maheegun," whispered my grandfather.

Slowly the wolf raised his muzzle. "Oooo-oo-wow-wowoo-oooo!"

The whole white world thrilled to that wild cry. Then after a while, from the distance came a softer call in reply. Maheegun stirred, with the deep rumble of pleasure in his throat. He slipped down the rock and headed out across the ice.

"He's gone," I said.

"Yes, he's gone to that young she-wolf." My grandfather slowly filled his pipe. "He will take her for life, hunt for her, protect her. This is the way the Creator planned life. No man can change it."

I tried to tell myself it was all for the best, but it was hard to lose my brother.

For the next two years I was as busy as a squirrel storing nuts for the winter. But once or twice when I heard wolf cries from distant hills, I would still wonder if Maheegun, in his battle for life, found time to remember me.

It was not long after that I found the answer.

Easter came early that year and during the holidays I went to visit my cousins.

My uncle was to bring me home in his truck. But he was detained by some urgent business. So I decided 29 to come back home on my own.

A mile down the road I slipped into my snowshoes and turned into the bush. The strong sunshine had dimmed. I had not gone far before big flakes 30 of snow began drifting down.

The snow thickened fast. I could not locate the tall pine that stood on the north slope of Little Mountain. I circled to my right and stumbled into a snow-filled creek bed. By then the snow had made a blanket of white darkness, but I knew only too well there should have been no creek there.

I tried to travel west but only to hit the creek again. I knew I had gone in a great circle and I was lost.

There was only one thing to do. Camp for the night and hope that by morning the storm would have blown itself out. I quickly made a bed of boughs 31 and started a fire with the bark of an old dead birch. The first night I was comfortable enough. But when the first gray light came I realized that I was in deep trouble. The storm was even worse. Everything had been smothered 32 by the fierce whiteness.

The light of another day still saw no end to the storm. I began to get confused. I couldn't recall whether it had been storming for three or four days.

Then came the clear dawn. A great white stillness had taken over and with it, biting cold. My supply of wood was almost gone. There must be more.

Slashing 33 off green branches with my knife, I cut my hand and blood spurted 34 freely from my wound. It was some time before the bleeding stopped. I wrapped my hand with a piece of cloth I tore off from my shirt. After some time, my fingers grew cold and numb, so I took the bandage off and threw it away.

How long I squatted 35 over my dying fire I don't know. But then I saw the gray shadow between the trees. It was a timber wolf. He had followed the blood spots on the snow to the blood-soaked bandage.

"Yap... yap... yap... yoooo!" The howl seemed to freeze the world with fear.

It was the food cry. He was calling, "Come, brothers, I have found meat." And I was the meat!

Soon his hunting partner came to join him. Any time now, I thought, their teeth would pierce my bones.

Suddenly the world exploded in snarls 36. I was thrown against the branches of the shelter. But I felt no pain. And a great silence had come. Slowly I worked my way out of the snow and raised my head. There, about 50 feet away, crouched 37 my two attackers with their tails between their legs. Then I heard a noise to my side and turned my head. There stood a giant black wolf. It was Maheegun, and he had driven off the others.

"Maheegun... Maheegun...," I sobbed 38, as I moved through the snow toward him. "My brother, my brother," I said, giving him my hand. He reached out and licked at the dried blood.

I got my little fire going again, and as I squatted by it, I started to cry. Maybe it was relief or weakness or both — I don't know. Maheegun whimpered too.

Maheegun stayed with me through the long night, watching me with those big eyes. The cold and loss of blood were taking their toll.

The sun was midway across the sky when I noticed how restless Maheegun had become. He would run away a few paces — head up, listening — then run back to me. Then I heard. It was dogs. It was the searching party! I put the last of my birch bark on the fire and fanned it into life.

The sound of the dogs grew louder. Then the voices of men. Suddenly, as if by magic, the police dog team came up out of the creek bed, and a man came running toward my fire. It was my grandfather.

The old hunter stopped suddenly when he saw the wolf. He raised his rifle. "Don't shoot!" I screamed and ran toward him, falling through the snow. "It's Maheegun. Don't shoot!"

He lowered his rifle. Then I fell forward on my face, into the snow.

I woke up in my bedroom. It was quite some time before my eyes came into focus enough to see my grandfather sitting by my bed.

"You have slept three days," he said softly. "The doc says you will be all right in a week or two."

"And Maheegun?" I asked weakly.

"He should be fine. He is with his own kind."