瓦尔登湖:Former Inhabitants and Winter Visitors

　　I weathered some merry snow-storms， and spent some cheerful winter evenings by my fireside， while the snow whirled wildly without， and even the hooting of the owl was hushed.  For many weeks I met no one in my walks but those who came occasionally to cut wood and sled it to the village.  The elements， however， abetted me in making a path through the deepest snow in the woods， for when I had once gone through the wind blew the oak leaves into my tracks， where they lodged， and by absorbing the rays of the sun melted the snow，and so not only made a my bed for my feet， but in the night their dark line was my guide.  For human society I was obliged to conjure up the former occupants of these woods.  Within the memory of many of my townsmen the road near which my house stands resounded with the laugh and gossip of inhabitants， and the woods which border it were notched and dotted here and there with their little gardens and dwellings， though it was then much more shut in by the forest than now.  In some places， within my own remembrance， the pines would scrape both sides of a chaise at once， and women and children who were compelled to go this way to Lincoln alone and on foot did it with fear， and often ran a good part of the distance.  Though mainly but a humble route to neighboring villages， or for the woodman's team， it once amused the traveller more than now by its variety， and lingered longer in his memory.  Where now firm open fields stretch from the village to the woods， it then ran through a maple swamp on a foundation of logs， the remnants of which， doubtless， still underlie the present dusty highway， from the Stratton， now the Alms-House Farm， to Brister's Hill. East of my bean-field， across the road， lived Cato Ingraham，slave of Duncan Ingraham， Esquire， gentleman， of Concord village，who built his slave a house， and gave him permission to live in Walden Woods； ―― Cato， not Uticensis， but Concordiensis.  Some say that he was a Guinea Negro.  There are a few who remember his little patch among the walnuts， which he let grow up till he should be old and need them； but a younger and whiter speculator got them at last. He too， however， occupies an equally narrow house at present. Cato's half-obliterated cellar-hole still remains， though known to few， being concealed from the traveller by a fringe of pines.  It is now filled with the smooth sumach （Rhus glabra）， and one of the earliest species of goldenrod （Solidago stricta） grows there luxuriantly. Here， by the very corner of my field， still nearer to town，Zilpha， a colored woman， had her little house， where she spun linen for the townsfolk， making the Walden Woods ring with her shrill singing， for she had a loud and notable voice.  At length， in the war of 1812， her dwelling was set on fire by English soldiers，prisoners on parole， when she was away， and her cat and dog and hens were all burned up together.  She led a hard life， and somewhat inhumane.  One old frequenter of these woods remembers， that as he passed her house one noon he heard her muttering to herself over her gurgling pot ―― "Ye are all bones， bones！"  I have seen bricks amid the oak copse there.

　　我遭逢了几次快乐的风雪，在火炉边度过了一些愉快的冬夜，那时外面风雪狂放地旋转，便是枭鹰的叫声也给压下去了。好几个星期以来，我的散步中没有遇到过一个人，除非那些偶尔到林中来伐木的，他们用雪车把木料载走了。然而那些大风大雪却教会我从林中积雪深处开辟出一条路径来，因为有一次我走过去以后，风把一些橡树叶子吹到了被我踏过的地方；它们留在那里，吸收了太阳光，而溶去了积雪，这样我不但脚下有了干燥的路可走，而且到晚上，它们的黑色线条可以给我引路。至于与人交往，我不能不念念有辞，召回旧日的林中居民。照我那个乡镇上许多居民的记忆，我屋子附近那条路上曾响彻了居民的闲谈与笑声，而两旁的森林，到处斑斑点点，都曾经有他们的小花园和小住宅，虽然当时的森林，比起现在来，还要浓密得多。在有些地方，我自己都记得的，浓密的松材摩擦着轻便马车的两侧；不得不单独地步行到林肯去的女人和孩子，经过这里往往害怕得不得了，甚至狂奔上一段路。虽然主要他说来，这是到邻村去的一条微不足道的小径，或者说是只有樵夫在走的，但是它曾经迷惑了一些旅行家，当时它的花明柳暗，比现下更要丰富，在记忆之中也更可留恋。现在从村子到森林中间有一大片空旷的原野，当时是一个枫树林的沼泽地区，许多的木料是那里的小径的基础，现在成了多尘土的公路了，从现在已经是济贫院的斯特拉登，经过田庄，一直通到勃立斯特山的公路下，无疑还找得到它的痕迹。

　　在我的豆田之东，路的那一边，卡托。殷格拉汉姆曾居住过，他是康科德的乡绅邓肯。殷格拉汉姆老爷的奴隶；他给他的奴隶造了一座房子，还允许他住在瓦尔登林中，――这个卡托不是尤蒂卡的那个，而是康科德人。有人说他是几内亚的黑人。有少数人还记得他胡桃林中的一块小地，他将它培育成林了，希望老了以后，需要的时候可以有用处；一个年轻白种人的投机家后来买下了它。现在他也有一所狭长的房子。卡托的那个半已消失无踪的地窖窟窿至今还在，却很少人知道了，因为有一行松树遮去了旅行家的视线。现在那里满是平滑的黄栌树（学名Rhusglabra），还有很原始的一种黄色紫苑（学名Solidagostricta），也在那里很茂郁地生长着。

　　就在我的豆田转角的地方，离乡镇更近了，一个黑种女人席尔发有着她的一幢小房屋，她在那里给地方上人织细麻布，她有一个响亮激越的嗓子，唱得瓦尔登林中口荡着她的尖锐的歌声。最后，一八一二年，她的住宅给一些英国兵烧掉了，他们是一些假释的俘虏，那时恰巧她不在家，她的猫、狗和老母鸡一起都给烧死了。她过的生活很艰苦，几乎是不像人过的。有个在这森林中可称为常客的老者还记得，某一个午间他经过她的家，他听到她在对着沸腾的壶喃喃自语，――“你们全是骨头，骨头啊！”我还看见过橡树林中留存着的砖头。

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