12-brute neighbors-第3部分

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Mill…dam　sportsmen　are　on　the　alert；　in　gigs　and　on　foot；　two　by　two

and　three　by　three；　with　patent　rifles　and　conical　balls　and

spy…glasses。　　They　come　rustling　through　the　woods　like　autumn

leaves；　at　least　ten　men　to　one　loon。　　Some　station　themselves　on

this　side　of　the　pond；　some　on　that；　for　the　poor　bird　cannot　be

omnipresent；　if　he　dive　here　he　must　come　up　there。　　But　now　the

kind　October　wind　rises；　rustling　the　leaves　and　rippling　the

surface　of　the　water；　so　that　no　loon　can　be　heard　or　seen；　though

his　foes　sweep　the　pond　with　spy…glasses；　and　make　the　woods　resound

with　their　discharges。　　The　waves　generously　rise　and　dash　angrily；

taking　sides　with　all　water…fowl；　and　our　sportsmen　must　beat　a

retreat　to　town　and　shop　and　unfinished　jobs。　　But　they　were　too

often　successful。　　When　I　went　to　get　a　pail　of　water　early　in　the

morning　I　frequently　saw　this　stately　bird　sailing　out　of　my　cove

within　a　few　rods。　　If　I　endeavored　to　overtake　him　in　a　boat；　in

order　to　see　how　he　would　manoeuvre；　he　would　dive　and　be　completely

lost；　so　that　I　did　not　discover　him　again；　sometimes；　till　the

latter　part　of　the　day。　　But　I　was　more　than　a　match　for　him　on　the

surface。　　He　commonly　went　off　in　a　rain。

　　　　As　I　was　paddling　along　the　north　shore　one　very　calm　October

afternoon；　for　such　days　especially　they　settle　on　to　the　lakes；

like　the　milkweed　down；　having　looked　in　vain　over　the　pond　for　a

loon；　suddenly　one；　sailing　out　from　the　shore　toward　the　middle　a

few　rods　in　front　of　me；　set　up　his　wild　laugh　and　betrayed　himself。

I　pursued　with　a　paddle　and　he　dived；　but　when　he　came　up　I　was

nearer　than　before。　　He　dived　again；　but　I　miscalculated　the

direction　he　would　take；　and　we　were　fifty　rods　apart　when　he　came

to　the　surface　this　time；　for　I　had　helped　to　widen　the　interval；

and　again　he　laughed　long　and　loud；　and　with　more　reason　than

before。　　He　manoeuvred　so　cunningly　that　I　could　not　get　within　half

a　dozen　rods　of　him。　　Each　time；　when　he　came　to　the　surface；

turning　his　head　this　way　and　that；　he　cooly　surveyed　the　water　and

the　land；　and　apparently　chose　his　course　so　that　he　might　come　up

where　there　was　the　widest　expanse　of　water　and　at　the　greatest

distance　from　the　boat。　　It　was　surprising　how　quickly　he　made　up

his　mind　and　put　his　resolve　into　execution。　　He　led　me　at　once　to

the　widest　part　of　the　pond；　and　could　not　be　driven　from　it。　　While

he　was　thinking　one　thing　in　his　brain；　I　was　endeavoring　to　divine

his　thought　in　mine。　　It　was　a　pretty　game；　played　on　the　smooth

surface　of　the　pond；　a　man　against　a　loon。　　Suddenly　your

adversary's　checker　disappears　beneath　the　board；　and　the　problem　is

to　place　yours　nearest　to　where　his　will　appear　again。　　Sometimes　he

would　come　up　unexpectedly　on　the　opposite　side　of　me；　having

apparently　passed　directly　under　the　boat。　　So　long…winded　was　he

and　so　unweariable；　that　when　he　had　swum　farthest　he　would

immediately　plunge　again；　nevertheless；　and　then　no　wit　could　divine

where　in　the　deep　pond；　beneath　the　smooth　surface；　he　might　be

speeding　his　way　like　a　fish；　for　he　had　time　and　ability　to　visit

the　bottom　of　the　pond　in　its　deepest　part。　　It　is　said　that　loons

have　been　caught　in　the　New　York　lakes　eighty　feet　beneath　the

surface；　with　hooks　set　for　trout　　though　Walden　is　deeper　than

that。　　How　surprised　must　the　fishes　be　to　see　this　ungainly　visitor

from　another　sphere　speeding　his　way　amid　their　schools！　　Yet　he

appeared　to　know　his　course　as　surely　under　water　as　on　the　surface；

and　swam　much　faster　there。　　Once　or　twice　I　saw　a　ripple　where　he

approached　the　surface；　just　put　his　head　out　to　reconnoitre；　and

instantly　dived　again。　　I　found　that　it　was　as　well　for　me　to　rest

on　my　oars　and　wait　his　reappearing　as　to　endeavor　to　calculate

where　he　would　rise；　for　again　and　again；　when　I　was　straining　my

eyes　over　the　surface　one　way；　I　would　suddenly　be　startled　by　his

unearthly　laugh　behind　me。　　But　why；　after　displaying　so　much

cunning；　did　he　invariably　betray　himself　the　moment　he　came　up　by

that　loud　laugh？　　Did　not　his　white　breast　enough　betray　him？　　He

was　indeed　a　silly　loon；　I　thought。　　I　could　commonly　hear　the

splash　of　the　water　when　he　came　up；　and　so　also　detected　him。　　But

after　an　hour　he　seemed　as　fresh　as　ever；　dived　as　willingly；　and

swam　yet　farther　than　at　first。　　It　was　surprising　to　see　how

serenely　he　sailed　off　with　unruffled　breast　when　he　came　to　the

surface；　doing　all　the　work　with　his　webbed　feet　beneath。　　His　usual

note　was　this　demoniac　laughter；　yet　somewhat　like　that　of　a

water…fowl；　but　occasionally；　when　he　had　balked　me　most

successfully　and　come　up　a　long　way　off；　he　uttered　a　long…drawn

unearthly　howl；　probably　more　like　that　of　a　wolf　than　any　bird；　as

when　a　beast　puts　his　muzzle　to　the　ground　and　deliberately　howls。

This　was　his　looning　　perhaps　the　wildest　sound　that　is　ever　heard

here；　making　the　woods　ring　far　and　wide。　　I　concluded　that　he

laughed　in　derision　of　my　efforts；　confident　of　his　own　resources。

Though　the　sky　was　by　this　time　overcast；　the　pond　was　so　smooth

that　I　could　see　where　he　broke　the　surface　when　I　did　not　hear　him。

His　white　breast；　the　stillness　of　the　air；　and　the　smoothness　of

the　water　were　all　against　him。　　At　length　having　come　up　fifty　rods

off；　he　uttered　one　of　those　prolonged　howls；　as　if　calling　on　the

god　of　loons　to　aid　him；　and　immediately　there　came　a　wind　from　the

east　and　rippled　the　surface；　and　filled　the　whole　air　with　misty

rain；　and　I　was　impressed　as　if　it　were　the　prayer　of　the　loon

answered；　and　his　god　was　angry　with　me；　and　so　I　left　him

disappearing　far　away　on　the　tumultuous　surface。

　　　　For　hours；　in　fall　days；　I　watched　the　ducks　cunningly　tack　and

veer　and　hold　the　middle　of　the　pond；　far　from　the　sportsman；　tricks

which　they　will　have　less　need　to　practise　in　Louisiana　bayous。

When　compelled　to　rise　they　would　sometimes　circle　round　and　round

and　over　the　pond　at　a　considerable　height；　from　which　they　could

easily　see　to　other　ponds　and　the　river；　like　black　motes　in　the

sky；　and；　when　I　thought　they　had　gone　off　thither　long　since；　they

would　settle　down　by　a　slanting　flight　of　a　quarter　of　a　mile　on　to

a　distant　part　which　was　left　free；　but　what　beside　safety　they　got

by　sailing　in　the　middle　of　Walden　I　do　not　know；　unless　they　love

its　water　for　the　same　reason　that　I　do。






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