When I strolled around the pond in misty weather I was sometimes amused by the primitive mode which some ruder fisherman had adopted. He would perhaps have placed alder branches over the narrow holes in the ice， which were four or five rods apart and an equal distance from the shore， and having fastened the end of the line to a stick to prevent its being pulled through， have passed the slack line over a twig of the alder， a foot or more above the ice， and tied a dry oak leaf to it， which， being pulled down， would show when he had a bite.  These alders loomed through the mist at regular intervals as you walked half way round the pond.

　　Ah， the pickerel of Walden！ when I see them lying on the ice， or in the well which the fisherman cuts in the ice， making a little hole to admit the water， I am always surprised by their rare beauty，as if they were fabulous fishes， they are so foreign to the streets，even to the woods， foreign as Arabia to our Concord life.  They possess a quite dazzling and transcendent beauty which separates them by a wide interval from the cadaverous cod and haddock whose fame is trumpeted in our streets.  They are not green like the pines， nor gray like the stones， nor blue like the sky； but they have， to my eyes， if possible， yet rarer colors， like flowers and precious stones， as if they were the pearls， the animalized nuclei or crystals of the Walden water.  They， of course， are Walden all over and all through； are themselves small Waldens in the animal kingdom， Waldenses.  It is surprising that they are caught here ――that in this deep and capacious spring， far beneath the rattling teams and chaises and tinkling sleighs that travel the Walden road，this great gold and emerald fish swims.  I never chanced to see its kind in any market； it would be the cynosure of all eyes there. Easily， with a few convulsive quirks， they give up their watery ghosts， like a mortal translated before his time to the thin air of heaven.

　　As I was desirous to recover the long lost bottom of Walden Pond， I surveyed it carefully， before the ice broke up， early in '46， with compass and chain and sounding line.  There have been many stories told about the bottom， or rather no bottom， of this pond，which certainly had no foundation for themselves.  It is remarkable how long men will believe in the bottomlessness of a pond without taking the trouble to sound it.  I have visited two such Bottomless Ponds in one walk in this neighborhood.  Many have believed that Walden reached quite through to the other side of the globe.  Some who have lain flat on the ice for a long time， looking down through the illusive medium， perchance with watery eyes into the bargain，and driven to hasty conclusions by the fear of catching cold in their breasts， have seen vast holes "into which a load of hay might be driven，" if there were anybody to drive it， the undoubted source of the Styx and entrance to the Infernal Regions from these parts. Others have gone down from the village with a "fifty-six" and a wagon load of inch rope， but yet have failed to find any bottom； for while the "fifty-six" was resting by the way， they were paying out the rope in the vain attempt to fathom their truly immeasurable capacity for marvellousness.  But I can assure my readers that Walden has a reasonably tight bottom at a not unreasonable， though at an unusual， depth.  I fathomed it easily with a cod-line and a stone weighing about a pound and a half， and could tell accurately when the stone left the bottom， by having to pull so much harder before the water got underneath to help me.  The greatest depth was exactly one hundred and two feet； to which may be added the five feet which it has risen since， making one hundred and seven.  This is a remarkable depth for so small an area； yet not an inch of it can be spared by the imagination.  What if all ponds were shallow？

　　Would it not react on the minds of men？  I am thankful that this pond was made deep and pure for a symbol.  While men believe in the infinite some ponds will be thought to be bottomless.

　　啊，瓦爾登的梭魚！當(dāng)我躺在冰上看它們，或者，當(dāng)我望進漁人們在冰上挖掘的井，那些通到水中去的小窟窿的時候，我常常給它們的稀世之美弄得驚異不止，好像它們是神秘的魚，街上看不到，森林中看不到，正如在康科德的生活中看不到阿拉伯一樣。他們有一種異常焰目、超乎自然的美，這使它們跟灰白色的小鱈魚和黑線鱈相比，不啻天淵之別，然而后者的名譽，卻傳遍了街道。它們并不綠得像松樹，也不灰得像石塊，更不是藍(lán)得像天空的；然而，我覺得它們更有稀世的色彩，像花，像寶石，像珠子，是瓦爾登湖水中的動物化了的核或晶體。它們自然是徹頭徹尾的瓦爾登；在動物界之中，它們自身就是一個個小瓦爾登，這許多的瓦爾登??！驚人的是它們在這里被捕到，――在這深而且廣的水中，遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)避開了瓦爾登路上旅行經(jīng)過的驢馬，輕便馬車和鈴兒叮當(dāng)?shù)难┸?，這偉大的金色的翠玉色的魚游泳著。這一種魚我從沒有在市場上看到過；在那兒，它必然會成眾目之所矚注。很容易的，只用幾下痙攣性的急轉(zhuǎn)，它們就拋棄了那水露露的鬼影，像一個凡人還沒有到時候就已升上了天。

　　因為我渴望著把瓦爾登湖的相傳早巳失去的湖底給予恢復(fù)，我在一八四六年初，在溶冰之前就小心地勘察了它，用了羅盤，絞鏈和測水深的鉛錘。關(guān)于這個湖底，或者說，關(guān)于這個湖的無底，已經(jīng)有許多故事傳涌，那許多故事自然是沒有根據(jù)的。

　　人們并不去探查湖底，就立刻相信它是無底之湖，這就奇怪極了。我在這一帶的一次散步中曾跑到兩個這樣的無底湖邊。許多人非常之相信，認(rèn)為瓦爾登一直通到地球的另外一面。有的人躺臥在冰上，躺了很久，通過那幻覺似的媒介物而下瞰，也許還望得眼中全是水波，但是他們怕傷風(fēng)，所以很迅速地下了結(jié)論，說他們看到了許多很大的洞穴，如果真有人會下去填塞干草，“其中不知道可以塞進多少干草”，那無疑是冥河的入口，從這些入口可以通到地獄的疆域里去。另外有人從村里來，駕了一頭五十六號馬，繩子裝滿了一車，然而找不出任何的湖底；因為，當(dāng)五十六號在路邊休息時，他們把繩子放下水去，要測量它的神奇不可測量，結(jié)果是徒然。可是，我可以確切地告訴讀者，瓦爾登有一個堅密得合乎常理的湖底，雖然那深度很罕見，但也并非不合理。我用一根鉤鱈魚的釣絲測量了它，這很容易，只需在它的一頭系一塊重一磅半的石頭，它就能很準(zhǔn)確地告訴我這石頭在什么時候離開了湖底，因為在它下面再有湖水以前，要把它提起來得費很大力氣。最深的地方恰恰是一百零二英尺；還不妨加入后來上漲的湖水五英尺，共計一百零七英尺。湖面這樣小，而有這樣的深度，真是令人驚奇，然而不管你的想象力怎樣豐富，你不能再減少它一英寸。如果一切的湖都很淺，那又怎么樣呢？難道它不會在人類心靈上反映出來嗎？我感激的是這一個湖，深而純潔，可以作為一個象征。當(dāng)人們還相信著無限的時候，就會有一些湖沼被認(rèn)為是無底的了。

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