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1Sometimes, having had a surfeit of human society and gossip, and worn out all my village friends, I rambled still
2farther westward than I habitually dwell, into yet more unfrequented parts of the town, "to fresh woods and pastures
3new," or, while the sun was setting, made my supper of huckleberries and blueberries on Fair Haven Hill, and laid up a
4store for several days. The fruits do not yield their true flavor to the purchaser of them, nor to him who raises them
5for the market. There is but one way to obtain it, yet few take that way. If you would know the flavor of huckleberries,
6ask the cow-boy or the partridge. It is a vulgar error to suppose that you have tasted huckleberries who never plucked
7them. A huckleberry never reaches Boston; they have not been known there since they grew on her three hills. The
8ambrosial and essential part of the fruit is lost with the bloom which is rubbed off in the market cart, and they become
9mere provender. As long as Eternal Justice reigns, not one innocent huckleberry can be transported thither from the
10country's hills. Occasionally, after my hoeing was done for the day, I joined some impatient companion who had been
11fishing on the pond since morning, as silent and motionless as a duck or a floating leaf, and, after practising various
12kinds of philosophy, had concluded commonly, by the time I arrived, that he belonged to the ancient sect of Cœnobites.
13There was one older man, an excellent fisher and skilled in all kinds of woodcraft, who was pleased to look upon my
14house as a building erected for the convenience of fishermen; and I was equally pleased when he sat in my doorway to
15arrange his lines. Once in a while we sat together on the pond, he at one end of the boat, and I at the other; but not
16many words passed between us, for he had grown deaf in his later years, but he occasionally hummed a psalm, which
17harmonized well enough with my philosophy. Our intercourse was thus altogether one of unbroken harmony, far more
18pleasing to remember than if it had been carried on by speech. When, as was commonly the case, I had none to commune
19with, I used to raise the echoes by striking with a paddle on the side of my boat, filling the surrounding woods with
20circling and dilating sound, stirring them up as the keeper of a menagerie his wild beasts, until I elicited a growl
21from every wooded vale and hill-side. In warm evenings I frequently sat in the boat playing the flute, and saw the
22perch, which I seemed to have charmed, hovering around me, and the moon travelling over the ribbed bottom, which was
23strewed with the wrecks of the forest. Formerly I had come to this pond adventurously, from time to time, in dark summer
24nights, with a companion, and making a fire close to the water's edge, which we thought attracted the fishes, we caught
25pouts with a bunch of worms strung on a thread; and when we had done, far in the night, threw the burning brands high
26into the air like skyrockets, which, coming down into the pond, were quenched with a loud hissing, and we were suddenly
27groping in total darkness. Through this, whistling a tune, we took our way to the haunts of men again. But now I had
28made my home by the shore. Sometimes, after staying in a village parlor till the family had all retired, I have returned
29to the woods, and, partly with a view to the next day's dinner, spent the hours of midnight fishing from a boat by
30moonlight, serenaded by owls and foxes, and hearing, from time to time, the creaking note of some unknown bird close at
31hand. These experiences were very memorable and valuable to me,--anchored in forty feet of water, and twenty or thirty
32rods from the shore, surrounded sometimes by thousands of small perch and shiners, dimpling the surface with their tails
33in the moonlight, and communicating by a long flaxen line with mysterious nocturnal fishes which had their dwelling
34forty feet below, or sometimes dragging sixty feet of line about the pond as I drifted in the gentle night breeze, now
35and then feeling a slight vibration along it, indicative of some life prowling about its extremity, of dull uncertain
36blundering purpose there, and slow to make up its mind. At length you slowly raise, pulling hand over hand, some horned
37pout squeaking and squirming to the upper air. It was very queer, especially in dark nights, when your thoughts had
38wandered to vast and cosmogonal themes in other spheres, to feel this faint jerk, which came to interrupt your dreams
39and link you to Nature again. It seemed as if I might next cast my line upward into the air, as well as downward into
40this element, which was scarcely more dense. Thus I caught two fishes as it were with one hook.
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