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1As I was paddling along the north shore one very calm October afternoon, for such days especially they settle on to the
2lakes, like the milkweed down, having looked in vain over the pond for a loon, suddenly one, sailing out from the shore
3toward the middle a few rods in front of me, set up his wild laugh and betrayed himself. I pursued with a paddle and he
4dived, but when he came up I was nearer than before. He dived again, but I miscalculated the direction he would take,
5and we were fifty rods apart when he came to the surface this time, for I had helped to widen the interval; and again he
6laughed long and loud, and with more reason than before. He manœuvred so cunningly that I could not get within half a
7dozen rods of him. Each time, when he came to the surface, turning his head this way and that, he cooly surveyed the
8water and the land, and apparently chose his course so that he might come up where there was the widest expanse of water
9and at the greatest distance from the boat. It was surprising how quickly he made up his mind and put his resolve into
10execution. He led me at once to the widest part of the pond, and could not be driven from it. While he was thinking one
11thing in his brain, I was endeavoring to divine his thought in mine. It was a pretty game, played on the smooth surface
12of the pond, a man against a loon. Suddenly your adversary's checker disappears beneath the board, and the problem is to
13place yours nearest to where his will appear again. Sometimes he would come up unexpectedly on the opposite side of me,
14having apparently passed directly under the boat. So long-winded was he and so unweariable, that when he had swum
15farthest he would immediately plunge again, nevertheless; and then no wit could divine where in the deep pond, beneath
16the smooth surface, he might be speeding his way like a fish, for he had time and ability to visit the bottom of the
17pond in its deepest part. It is said that loons have been caught in the New York lakes eighty feet beneath the surface,
18with hooks set for trout,--though Walden is deeper than that. How surprised must the fishes be to see this ungainly
19visitor from another sphere speeding his way amid their schools! Yet he appeared to know his course as surely under
20water as on the surface, and swam much faster there. Once or twice I saw a ripple where he approached the surface, just
21put his head out to reconnoitre, and instantly dived again. I found that it was as well for me to rest on my oars and
22wait his reappearing as to endeavor to calculate where he would rise; for again and again, when I was straining my eyes
23over the surface one way, I would suddenly be startled by his unearthly laugh behind me. But why, after displaying so
24much cunning, did he invariably betray himself the moment he came up by that loud laugh? Did not his white breast enough
25betray him? He was indeed a silly loon, I thought. I could commonly hear the splash of the water when he came up, and so
26also detected him. But after an hour he seemed as fresh as ever, dived as willingly and swam yet farther than at first.
27It was surprising to see how serenely he sailed off with unruffled breast when he came to the surface, doing all the
28work with his webbed feet beneath. His usual note was this demoniac laughter, yet somewhat like that of a water-fowl;
29but occasionally, when he had balked me most successfully and come up a long way off, he uttered a long-drawn unearthly
30howl, probably more like that of a wolf than any bird; as when a beast puts his muzzle to the ground and deliberately
31howls. This was his looning,--perhaps the wildest sound that is ever heard here, making the woods ring far and wide. I
32concluded that he laughed in derision of my efforts, confident of his own resources. Though the sky was by this time
33overcast, the pond was so smooth that I could see where he broke the surface when I did not hear him. His white breast,
34the stillness of the air, and the smoothness of the water were all against him. At length, having come up fifty rods
35off, he uttered one of those prolonged howls, as if calling on the god of loons to aid him, and immediately there came a
36wind from the east and rippled the surface, and filled the whole air with misty rain, and I was impressed as if it were
37the prayer of the loon answered, and his god was angry with me; and so I left him disappearing far away on the
38tumultuous surface. For hours, in fall days, I watched the ducks cunningly tack and veer and hold the middle of the
39pond, far from the sportsman; tricks which they will have less need to practise in Louisiana bayous. When compelled to
40rise they would sometimes circle round and round and over the pond at a considerable height, from which they could
41easily see to other ponds and the river, like black motes in the sky; and, when I thought they had gone off thither long
42since, they would settle down by a slanting flight of a quarter of a mile on to a distant part which was left free; but
43what beside safety they got by sailing in the middle of Walden I do not know, unless they love its water for the same
44reason that I do.
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