Walden

While walking home, Thoreau notices a woodchuck and feels a strong urge to capture and eat it. He recognizes an internal conflict between his primitive desire and his “higher […] spiritual” (358) laws, which elevate the preservation of animal life. He honors and values both sides of himself and explains that while he believes hunting and fishing can be instrumental in young men’s commune with nature, he feels that men would minimize these practices if they had “the seeds of a better life” in them (363). 

Thoreau advocates for eating less meat and killing fewer animals. While he seems repulsed by the eating of animals, he does not object to their consumption on moral grounds. Rather, Thoreau morally deems the consumption of “animal food” unnecessary for living, aligning it with tea, coffee, and other unnecessary goods. 

Describing the vile practice of animal-eating, Thoreau advocates for preparing and appreciating plant-based meals. Contemplating the writings of Thseng-tseu, Thoreau reflects: “He who distinguishes the true savor of his food can never be a glutton; he who does not cannot be otherwise” (371-372). He observes, furthermore, that even though humans have developed a taste for certain animal foods, it has merely been conditioned by society and can be undone. 

Furthermore, Thoreau observes that while all men harbor desires “reptile and sensual” that cannot “be wholly expelled” (373), they can distinguish themselves by exercising “a command over [their] passions” (374). According to Thoreau, man is closest to God and nature when he practices austerity. To illustrate his point, he offers the example of an allegorical everyman he calls John Farmer. In Thoreau’s allegorical story, John Farmer abandons vain, sensual pursuits and endeavors to live a simple life, “to let his mind descend into his body and redeem it, and treat himself with ever increasing respect” (379).

This chapter features an allegorical fishing trip on Walden Pond. Said trip includes an illustrative conversation between a Hermit figure (Thoreau) and a Poet figure (Thoreau’s close friend, William Ellery Channing). While the Poet is absorbed in the beauty of his surroundings, the Hermit tries to reconnect him with practical matters, asking, “Shall I go to heaven or a-fishing?” (382). In the end, the Poet note his lack of success with the fish he has caught: “I have got just thirteen whole ones, beside several which are imperfect or undersized” (383). 

Thoreau also details the bond he develops with the mice in his house. He notes that a local naturalist told him these mice are not common but rather “a wild native kind not found in the village” (384). Because these mice are unfamiliar with men and therefore unafraid of them, Thoreau can play with and hand-feed them. He also develops significant bonds with local birds, including a phoebe, a robin, and a partridge. Thoreau muses on the intersections of wild and civilized life: “It is remarkable how many creatures live wild and free though secret in the woods, and still sustain themselves in the neighborhood of towns” (387).

Thoreau observes a conflict between a group of black ants and a group of red ants. Though the black ants initially appear much larger than the red ants, closer inspection reveals that there are more ants in the red group. Thoreau compares this ant battle to human wars, designating particular ants as Patroclus and Achilles (from Homer’s The Iliad). He even finds himself emotionally stirred by this fight, musing:

[…] certainly there is not the fight recorded in Concord history, at least, if in the history of America, that will bear a moment’s comparison with this, whether for the numbers engaged in it, or for the patriotism and heroism displayed (392).

Hoping to gain a closer inspection of their violence, Thoreau carries a wood chip with three battling ants back to his cabin. He looks on as two are decapitated and brutally devoured, then releases the sole survivor. 

Thoreau is also interested in the semi-domestic cats in the woods. He is especially fascinated by local legends of a “winged-cat” (396), supposedly the result of crossbreeding with a flying squirrel. The locals even present Thoreau with some weird appendages, which they claim are the cat’s “wings” (397). Though he doubts these appendages are truly cat wings, he dreams of finding such a poetic animal.

Out on the pond, Thoreau is entranced by the “demoniac laughter” and “unearthly howl” (402) of the loon. He marvels at the loon and the ducks of Walden Pond, believing they must “love its water for the same reason that I do” (404).