[Transcriber's note: The inconsistent orthography of the original isretained in this etext. ]

THE WONDERFUL ADVENTURES of NILS

by

SELMA LAGERLÖF

TRANSLATED FROM THE SWEDISHBY VELMA SWANSTON HOWARD

CONTENTS

The Boy

Akka from Kebnekaise

The Wonderful Journey of Nils

Glimminge Castle

The Great Crane Dance on Kullaberg

In Rainy Weather

The Stairway with the Three Steps

By Ronneby River

Karlskrona

The Trip to Öland

Öland's Southern Point

The Big Butterfly

Little Karl's Island

Two Cities

The Legend of Småland

The Crows

The Old Peasant Woman

From Taberg to Huskvarna

The Big Bird Lake

Ulvåsa-Lady

The Homespun Cloth

The Story of Karr and Grayskin

The Wind Witch

The Breaking Up of the Ice

Thumbietot and the Bears

The Flood

Dunfin

Stockholm

Gorgo the Eagle

On Over Gästrikland

A Day in Hälsingland

In Medelpad

A Morning in Ångermanland

Westbottom and Lapland

Osa, the Goose Girl, and Little Mats

With the Laplanders

Homeward Bound

Legends from Härjedalen

Vermland and Dalsland

The Treasure on the Island

The Journey to Vemminghög

Home at Last

The Parting with the Wild Geese

_Some of the purely geographical matter in the Swedish original of the"Further Adventures of Nils" has been eliminated from the Englishversion. 

The author has rendered valuable assistance in cutting certain chaptersand abridging others. Also, with the author's approval, cuts have beenmade where the descriptive matter was merely of local interest. 

But the story itself is intact. 

V. S. H_. 

THE BOY

THE ELF

_Sunday, March twentieth_. 

Once there was a boy. He was--let us say--something like fourteen yearsold; long and loose-jointed and towheaded. He wasn't good for much, thatboy. His chief delight was to eat and sleep; and after that--he likedbest to make mischief. 

It was a Sunday morning and the boy's parents were getting ready to goto church. The boy sat on the edge of the table, in his shirt sleeves, and thought how lucky it was that both father and mother were goingaway, and the coast would be clear for a couple of hours. "Good! Now Ican take down pop's gun and fire off a shot, without anybody's meddlinginterference, " he said to himself. 

But it was almost as if father should have guessed the boy's thoughts, for just as he was on the threshold--ready to start--he stopped short, and turned toward the boy. "Since you won't come to church with motherand me, " he said, "the least you can do, is to read the service at home. Will you promise to do so?" "Yes, " said the boy, "that I can do easyenough. " And he thought, of course, that he wouldn't read any more thanhe felt like reading. 

The boy thought that never had he seen his mother so persistent. In asecond she was over by the shelf near the fireplace, and took downLuther's Commentary and laid it on the table, in front of thewindow--opened at the service for the day. She also opened the NewTestament, and placed it beside the Commentary. Finally, she drew up thebig arm-chair, which was bought at the parish auction the year before, and which, as a rule, no one but father was permitted to occupy. 

The boy sat thinking that his mother was giving herself altogether toomuch trouble with this spread; for he had no intention of reading morethan a page or so. But now, for the second time, it was almost as if hisfather were able to see right through him. He walked up to the boy, andsaid in a severe tone: "Now, remember, that you are to read carefully!For when we come back, I shall question you thoroughly; and if you haveskipped a single page, it will not go well with you. "

"The service is fourteen and a half pages long, " said his mother, justas if she wanted to heap up the measure of his misfortune. "You'll haveto sit down and begin the reading at once, if you expect to get throughwith it. "

With that they departed. And as the boy stood in the doorway watchingthem, he thought that he had been caught in a trap. "There they gocongratulating themselves, I suppose, in the belief that they've hitupon something so good that I'll be forced to sit and hang over thesermon the whole time that they are away, " thought he. 

But his father and mother were certainly not congratulating themselvesupon anything of the sort; but, on the contrary, they were very muchdistressed. They were poor farmers, and their place was not much biggerthan a garden-plot. When they first moved there, the place couldn't feedmore than one pig and a pair of chickens; but they were uncommonlyindustrious and capable folk--and now they had both cows and geese. Things had turned out very well for them; and they would have gone tochurch that beautiful morning--satisfied and happy--if they hadn't hadtheir son to think of. Father complained that he was dull and lazy; hehad not cared to learn anything at school, and he was such an all-roundgood-for-nothing, that he could barely be made to tend geese. Mother didnot deny that this was true; but she was most distressed because he waswild and bad; cruel to animals, and ill-willed toward human beings. "MayGod soften his hard heart, and give him a better disposition!" said themother, "or else he will be a misfortune, both to himself and to us. "

The boy stood for a long time and pondered whether he should read theservice or not. Finally, he came to the conclusion that, this time, itwas best to be obedient. He seated himself in the easy chair, and beganto read. But when he had been rattling away in an undertone for a littlewhile, this mumbling seemed to have a soothing effect upon him--and hebegan to nod. 

It was the most beautiful weather outside! It was only the twentieth ofMarch; but the boy lived in West Vemminghög Township, down in SouthernSkane, where the spring was already in full swing. It was not as yetgreen, but it was fresh and budding. There was water in all thetrenches, and the colt's-foot on the edge of the ditch was in bloom. Allthe weeds that grew in among the stones were brown and shiny. Thebeech-woods in the distance seemed to swell and grow thicker with everysecond. The skies were high--and a clear blue. The cottage door stoodajar, and the lark's trill could be heard in the room. The hens andgeese pattered about in the yard, and the cows, who felt the spring airaway in their stalls, lowed their approval every now and then. 

The boy read and nodded and fought against drowsiness. "No! I don't wantto fall asleep, " thought he, "for then I'll not get through with thisthing the whole forenoon. "

But--somehow--he fell asleep. 

He did not know whether he had slept a short while, or a long while; buthe was awakened by hearing a slight noise back of him. 

On the window-sill, facing the boy, stood a small looking-glass; andalmost the entire cottage could be seen in this. As the boy raised hishead, he happened to look in the glass; and then he saw that the coverto his mother's chest had been opened. 

His mother owned a great, heavy, iron-bound oak chest, which shepermitted no one but herself to open. Here she treasured all the thingsshe had inherited from her mother, and of these she was especiallycareful. Here lay a couple of old-time peasant dresses, of red homespuncloth, with short bodice and plaited shirt, and a pearl-bedecked breastpin. There were starched white-linen head-dresses, and heavy silverornaments and chains. Folks don't care to go about dressed like that inthese days, and several times his mother had thought of getting rid ofthe old things; but somehow, she hadn't had the heart to do it. 

Now the boy saw distinctly--in the glass--that the chest-lid was open. He could not understand how this had happened, for his mother had closedthe chest before she went away. She never would have left that preciouschest open when he was at home, alone. 

He became low-spirited and apprehensive. He was afraid that a thief hadsneaked his way into the cottage. He didn't dare to move; but sat stilland stared into the looking-glass. 

While he sat there and waited for the thief to make his appearance, hebegan to wonder what that dark shadow was which fell across the edge ofthe chest. He looked and looked--and did not want to believe his eyes. But the thing, which at first seemed shadowy, became more and moreclear to him; and soon he saw that it was something real. It was no lessa thing than an elf who sat there--astride the edge of the chest!

To be sure, the boy had heard stories about elves, but he had neverdreamed that they were such tiny creatures. He was no taller than ahand's breadth--this one, who sat on the edge of the chest. He had anold, wrinkled and beardless face, and was dressed in a black frock coat, knee-breeches and a broad-brimmed black hat. He was very trim and smart, with his white laces about the throat and wrist-bands, his buckledshoes, and the bows on his garters. He had taken from the chest anembroidered piece, and sat and looked at the old-fashioned handiworkwith such an air of veneration, that he did not observe the boy hadawakened. 

The boy was somewhat surprised to see the elf, but, on the other hand, he was not particularly frightened. It was impossible to be afraid ofone who was so little. And since the elf was so absorbed in his ownthoughts that he neither saw nor heard, the boy thought that it would begreat fun to play a trick on him; to push him over into the chest andshut the lid on him, or something of that kind. 

But the boy was not so courageous that he dared to touch the elf withhis hands, instead he looked around the room for something to poke himwith. He let his gaze wander from the sofa to the leaf-table; from theleaf-table to the fireplace. He looked at the kettles, then at thecoffee-urn, which stood on a shelf, near the fireplace; on the waterbucket near the door; and on the spoons and knives and forks and saucersand plates, which could be seen through the half-open cupboard door. Helooked at his father's gun, which hung on the wall, beside the portraitof the Danish royal family, and on the geraniums and fuchsias, whichblossomed in the window. And last, he caught sight of an oldbutterfly-snare that hung on the window frame. He had hardly set eyes onthat butterfly-snare, before he reached over and snatched it and jumpedup and swung it alongside the edge of the chest. He was himselfastonished at the luck he had. He hardly knew how he had managed it--buthe had actually snared the elf. The poor little chap lay, head downward, in the bottom of the long snare, and could not free himself. 

The first moment the boy hadn't the least idea what he should do withhis prize. He was only particular to swing the snare backward andforward; to prevent the elf from getting a foothold and clambering up. 

The elf began to speak, and begged, oh! so pitifully, for his freedom. He had brought them good luck--these many years--he said, and deservedbetter treatment. Now, if the boy would set him free, he would give himan old coin, a silver spoon, and a gold penny, as big as the case on hisfather's silver watch. 

The boy didn't think that this was much of an offer; but it sohappened--that after he had gotten the elf in his power, he was afraidof him. He felt that he had entered into an agreement with somethingweird and uncanny; something which did not belong to his world, and hewas only too glad to get rid of the horrid thing. 

For this reason he agreed at once to the bargain, and held the snarestill, so the elf could crawl out of it. But when the elf was almost outof the snare, the boy happened to think that he ought to have bargainedfor large estates, and all sorts of good things. He should at least havemade this stipulation: that the elf must conjure the sermon into hishead. "What a fool I was to let him go!" thought he, and began to shakethe snare violently, so the elf would tumble down again. 

But the instant the boy did this, he received such a stinging box on theear, that he thought his head would fly in pieces. He was dashed--firstagainst one wall, then against the other; he sank to the floor, and laythere--senseless. 

When he awoke, he was alone in the cottage. The chest-lid was down, andthe butterfly-snare hung in its usual place by the window. If he had notfelt how the right cheek burned, from that box on the ear, he would havebeen tempted to believe the whole thing had been a dream. "At any rate, father and mother will be sure to insist that it was nothing else, "thought he. "They are not likely to make any allowances for that oldsermon, on account of the elf. It's best for me to get at that readingagain, " thought he. 

But as he walked toward the table, he noticed something remarkable. Itcouldn't be possible that the cottage had grown. But why was he obligedto take so many more steps than usual to get to the table? And what wasthe matter with the chair? It looked no bigger than it did a while ago;but now he had to step on the rung first, and then clamber up in orderto reach the seat. It was the same thing with the table. He could notlook over the top without climbing to the arm of the chair. 

"What in all the world is this?" said the boy. "I believe the elf hasbewitched both the armchair and the table--and the whole cottage. "

The Commentary lay on the table and, to all appearances, it was notchanged; but there must have been something queer about that too, for hecould not manage to read a single word of it, without actually standingright in the book itself. 

He read a couple of lines, and then he chanced to look up. With that, his glance fell on the looking-glass; and then he cried aloud: "Look!There's another one!"

For in the glass he saw plainly a little, little creature who wasdressed in a hood and leather breeches. 

"Why, that one is dressed exactly like me!" said the boy, and claspedhis hands in astonishment. But then he saw that the thing in the mirrordid the same thing. Then he began to pull his hair and pinch his armsand swing round; and instantly he did the same thing after him; he, whowas seen in the mirror. 

The boy ran around the glass several times, to see if there wasn't alittle man hidden behind it, but he found no one there; and then hebegan to shake with terror. For now he understood that the elf hadbewitched him, and that the creature whose image he saw in theglass--was he, himself. 

THE WILD GEESE

The boy simply could not make himself believe that he had beentransformed into an elf. "It can't be anything but a dream--a queerfancy, " thought he. "If I wait a few moments, I'll surely be turned backinto a human being again. "

He placed himself before the glass and closed his eyes. He opened themagain after a couple of minutes, and then expected to find that it hadall passed over--but it hadn't. He was--and remained--just as little. Inother respects, he was the same as before. The thin, straw-colouredhair; the freckles across his nose; the patches on his leather breechesand the darns on his stockings, were all like themselves, with thisexception--that they had become diminished. 

No, it would do no good for him to stand still and wait, of this he wascertain. He must try something else. And he thought the wisest thingthat he could do was to try and find the elf, and make his peace withhim. 

And while he sought, he cried and prayed and promised everything hecould think of. Nevermore would he break his word to anyone; never againwould he be naughty; and never, never would he fall asleep again overthe sermon. If he might only be a human being once more, he would besuch a good and helpful and obedient boy. But no matter how much hepromised--it did not help him the least little bit. 

Suddenly he remembered that he had heard his mother say, all the tinyfolk made their home in the cowsheds; and, at once, he concluded to gothere, and see if he couldn't find the elf. It was a lucky thing thatthe cottage-door stood partly open, for he never could have reached thebolt and opened it; but now he slipped through without any difficulty. 

When he came out in the hallway, he looked around for his wooden shoes;for in the house, to be sure, he had gone about in his stocking-feet. Hewondered how he should manage with these big, clumsy wooden shoes; butjust then, he saw a pair of tiny shoes on the doorstep. When he observedthat the elf had been so thoughtful that he had also bewitched thewooden shoes, he was even more troubled. It was evidently his intentionthat this affliction should last a long time. 

On the wooden board-walk in front of the cottage, hopped a gray sparrow. He had hardly set eyes on the boy before he called out: "Teetee! Teetee!Look at Nils goosey-boy! Look at Thumbietot! Look at Nils HolgerssonThumbietot!"

Instantly, both the geese and the chickens turned and stared at the boy;and then they set up a fearful cackling. "Cock-el-i-coo, " crowed therooster, "good enough for him! Cock-el-i-coo, he has pulled my comb. ""Ka, ka, kada, serves him right!" cried the hens; and with that theykept up a continuous cackle. The geese got together in a tight group, stuck their heads together and asked: "Who can have done this? Who canhave done this?"

But the strangest thing of all was, that the boy understood what theysaid. He was so astonished, that he stood there as if rooted to thedoorstep, and listened. "It must be because I am changed into an elf, "said he. "This is probably why I understand bird-talk. "

He thought it was unbearable that the hens would not stop saying that itserved him right. He threw a stone at them and shouted:

"Shut up, you pack!"

But it hadn't occurred to him before, that he was no longer the sort ofboy the hens need fear. The whole henyard made a rush for him, andformed a ring around him; then they all cried at once: "Ka, ka, kada, served you right! Ka, ka, kada, served you right!"

The boy tried to get away, but the chickens ran after him and screamed, until he thought he'd lose his hearing. It is more than likely that henever could have gotten away from them, if the house cat hadn't comealong just then. As soon as the chickens saw the cat, they quieted downand pretended to be thinking of nothing else than just to scratch in theearth for worms. 

Immediately the boy ran up to the cat. "You dear pussy!" said he, "youmust know all the corners and hiding places about here? You'll be a goodlittle kitty and tell me where I can find the elf. "

The cat did not reply at once. He seated himself, curled his tail intoa graceful ring around his paws--and stared at the boy. It was a largeblack cat with one white spot on his chest. His fur lay sleek and soft, and shone in the sunlight. The claws were drawn in, and the eyes were adull gray, with just a little narrow dark streak down the centre. Thecat looked thoroughly good-natured and inoffensive. 

"I know well enough where the elf lives, " he said in a soft voice, "butthat doesn't say that I'm going to tell _you_ about it. "

"Dear pussy, you must tell me where the elf lives!" said the boy. "Can'tyou see how he has bewitched me?"

The cat opened his eyes a little, so that the green wickedness began toshine forth. He spun round and purred with satisfaction before hereplied. "Shall I perhaps help you because you have so often grabbed meby the tail?" he said at last. 

Then the boy was furious and forgot entirely how little and helpless hewas now. "Oh! I can pull your tail again, I can, " said he, and rantoward the cat. 

The next instant the cat was so changed that the boy could scarcelybelieve it was the same animal. Every separate hair on his body stood onend. The back was bent; the legs had become elongated; the claws scrapedthe ground; the tail had grown thick and short; the ears were laid back;the mouth was frothy; and the eyes were wide open and glistened likesparks of red fire. 

The boy didn't want to let himself be scared by a cat, and he took astep forward. Then the cat made one spring and landed right on the boy;knocked him down and stood over him--his forepaws on his chest, and hisjaws wide apart--over his throat. 

The boy felt how the sharp claws sank through his vest and shirt andinto his skin; and how the sharp eye-teeth tickled his throat. Heshrieked for help, as loudly as he could, but no one came. He thoughtsurely that his last hour had come. Then he felt that the cat drew inhis claws and let go the hold on his throat. 

"There!" he said, "that will do now. I'll let you go this time, for mymistress's sake. I only wanted you to know which one of us two has thepower now. "

With that the cat walked away--looking as smooth and pious as he didwhen he first appeared on the scene. The boy was so crestfallen that hedidn't say a word, but only hurried to the cowhouse to look for the elf. 

There were not more than three cows, all told. But when the boy came in, there was such a bellowing and such a kick-up, that one might easilyhave believed that there were at least thirty. 

"Moo, moo, moo, " bellowed Mayrose. "It is well there is such a thing asjustice in this world. "

"Moo, moo, moo, " sang the three of them in unison. He couldn't hear whatthey said, for each one tried to out-bellow the others. 

The boy wanted to ask after the elf, but he couldn't make himself heardbecause the cows were in full uproar. They carried on as they used to dowhen he let a strange dog in on them. They kicked with their hind legs, shook their necks, stretched their heads, and measured the distance withtheir horns. 

"Come here, you!" said Mayrose, "and you'll get a kick that you won'tforget in a hurry!"

"Come here, " said Gold Lily, "and you shall dance on my horns!"

"Come here, and you shall taste how it felt when you threw your woodenshoes at me, as you did last summer!" bawled Star. 

"Come here, and you shall be repaid for that wasp you let loose in myear!" growled Gold Lily. 

Mayrose was the oldest and the wisest of them, and she was the verymaddest. "Come here!" said she, "that I may pay you back for the manytimes that you have jerked the milk pail away from your mother; and forall the snares you laid for her, when she came carrying the milk pails;and for all the tears when she has stood here and wept over you!"

The boy wanted to tell them how he regretted that he had been unkind tothem; and that never, never--from now on--should he be anything butgood, if they would only tell him where the elf was. But the cows didn'tlisten to him. They made such a racket that he began to fear one of themwould succeed in breaking loose; and he thought that the best thing forhim to do was to go quietly away from the cowhouse. 

When he came out, he was thoroughly disheartened. He could understandthat no one on the place wanted to help him find the elf. And littlegood would it do him, probably, if the elf were found. 

He crawled up on the broad hedge which fenced in the farm, and which wasovergrown with briers and lichen. There he sat down to think about howit would go with him, if he never became a human being again. Whenfather and mother came home from church, there would be a surprise forthem. Yes, a surprise--it would be all over the land; and people wouldcome flocking from East Vemminghög, and from Torp, and from Skerup. Thewhole Vemminghög township would come to stare at him. Perhaps father andmother would take him with them, and show him at the market place inKivik. 

No, that was too horrible to think about. He would rather that no humanbeing should ever see him again. 

His unhappiness was simply frightful! No one in all the world was sounhappy as he. He was no longer a human being--but a freak. 

Little by little he began to comprehend what it meant--to be no longerhuman. He was separated from everything now; he could no longer playwith other boys, he could not take charge of the farm after his parentswere gone; and certainly no girl would think of marrying _him_. 

He sat and looked at his home. It was a little log house, which lay asif it had been crushed down to earth, under the high, sloping roof. Theouthouses were also small; and the patches of ground were so narrow thata horse could barely turn around on them. But little and poor though theplace was, it was much too good for him _now_. He couldn't ask for anybetter place than a hole under the stable floor. 

It was wondrously beautiful weather! It budded, and it rippled, and itmurmured, and it twittered--all around him. But he sat there with such aheavy sorrow. He should never be happy any more about anything. 

Never had he seen the skies as blue as they were to-day. Birds ofpassage came on their travels. They came from foreign lands, and hadtravelled over the East sea, by way of Smygahuk, and were now on theirway North. They were of many different kinds; but he was only familiarwith the wild geese, who came flying in two long rows, which met at anangle. 

Several flocks of wild geese had already flown by. They flew very high, still he could hear how they shrieked: "To the hills! Now we're off tothe hills!"

When the wild geese saw the tame geese, who walked about the farm, theysank nearer the earth, and called: "Come along! Come along! We're off tothe hills!"

The tame geese could not resist the temptation to raise their heads andlisten, but they answered very sensibly: "We're pretty well off where weare. We're pretty well off where we are. "

It was, as we have said, an uncommonly fine day, with an atmosphere thatit must have been a real delight to fly in, so light and bracing. Andwith each new wild geese-flock that flew by, the tame geese became moreand more unruly. A couple of times they flapped their wings, as if theyhad half a mind to fly along. But then an old mother-goose would alwayssay to them: "Now don't be silly. Those creatures will have to sufferboth hunger and cold. "

There was a young gander whom the wild geese had fired with a passionfor adventure. "If another flock comes this way, I'll follow them, " saidhe. 

Then there came a new flock, who shrieked like the others, and the younggander answered: "Wait a minute! Wait a minute! I'm coming. "

He spread his wings and raised himself into the air; but he was sounaccustomed to flying, that he fell to the ground again. 

At any rate, the wild geese must have heard his call, for they turnedand flew back slowly to see if he was coming. 

"Wait, wait!" he cried, and made another attempt to fly. 

All this the boy heard, where he lay on the hedge. "It would be a greatpity, " thought he, "if the big goosey-gander should go away. It would bea big loss to father and mother if he was gone when they came home fromchurch. "

When he thought of this, once again he entirely forgot that he waslittle and helpless. He took one leap right down into the goose-flock, and threw his arms around the neck of the goosey-gander. "Oh, no! Youdon't fly away this time, sir!" cried he. 

But just about then, the gander was considering how he should go towork to raise himself from the ground. He couldn't stop to shake the boyoff, hence he had to go along with him--up in the air. 

They bore on toward the heights so rapidly, that the boy fairly gasped. Before he had time to think that he ought to let go his hold around thegander's neck, he was so high up that he would have been killedinstantly, if he had fallen to the ground. 

The only thing that he could do to make himself a little morecomfortable, was to try and get upon the gander's back. And there hewriggled himself forthwith; but not without considerable trouble. And itwas not an easy matter, either, to hold himself secure on the slipperyback, between two swaying wings. He had to dig deep into feathers anddown with both hands, to keep from tumbling to the ground. 

THE BIG CHECKED CLOTH

The boy had grown so giddy that it was a long while before he came tohimself. The winds howled and beat against him, and the rustle offeathers and swaying of wings sounded like a whole storm. Thirteen geeseflew around him, flapping their wings and honking. They danced beforehis eyes and they buzzed in his ears. He didn't know whether they flewhigh or low, or in what direction they were travelling. 

After a bit, he regained just enough sense to understand that he oughtto find out where the geese were taking him. But this was not so easy, for he didn't know how he should ever muster up courage enough to lookdown. He was sure he'd faint if he attempted it. 

The wild geese were not flying very high because the new travellingcompanion could not breathe in the very thinnest air. For his sake theyalso flew a little slower than usual. 

At last the boy just made himself cast one glance down to earth. Then hethought that a great big rug lay spread beneath him, which was made upof an incredible number of large and small checks. 

"Where in all the world am I now?" he wondered. 

He saw nothing but check upon check. Some were broad and ran crosswise, and some were long and narrow--all over, there were angles and corners. Nothing was round, and nothing was crooked. 

"What kind of a big, checked cloth is this that I'm looking down on?"said the boy to himself without expecting anyone to answer him. 

But instantly the wild geese who flew about him called out: "Fields andmeadows. Fields and meadows. "

Then he understood that the big, checked cloth he was travelling overwas the flat land of southern Sweden; and he began to comprehend why itlooked so checked and multi-coloured. The bright green checks herecognised first; they were rye fields that had been sown in the fall, and had kept themselves green under the winter snows. The yellowish-graychecks were stubble-fields--the remains of the oat-crop which had grownthere the summer before. The brownish ones were old clover meadows: andthe black ones, deserted grazing lands or ploughed-up fallow pastures. The brown checks with the yellow edges were, undoubtedly, beech-treeforests; for in these you'll find the big trees which grow in the heartof the forest--naked in winter; while the little beech-trees, which growalong the borders, keep their dry, yellowed leaves way into the spring. There were also dark checks with gray centres: these were the large, built-up estates encircled by the small cottages with their blackeningstraw roofs, and their stone-divided land-plots. And then there werechecks green in the middle with brown borders: these were the orchards, where the grass-carpets were already turning green, although the treesand bushes around them were still in their nude, brown bark. 

The boy could not keep from laughing when he saw how checked everythinglooked. 

But when the wild geese heard him laugh, they called out--kind o'reprovingly: "Fertile and good land. Fertile and good land. "

The boy had already become serious. "To think that you can laugh; you, who have met with the most terrible misfortune that can possibly happento a human being!" thought he. And for a moment he was pretty serious;but it wasn't long before he was laughing again. 

Now that he had grown somewhat accustomed to the ride and the speed, sothat he could think of something besides holding himself on the gander'sback, he began to notice how full the air was of birds flying northward. And there was a shouting and a calling from flock to flock. "So you cameover to-day?" shrieked some. "Yes, " answered the geese. "How do youthink the spring's getting on?" "Not a leaf on the trees and ice-coldwater in the lakes, " came back the answer. 

When the geese flew over a place where they saw any tame, half-nakedfowl, they shouted: "What's the name of this place? What's the name ofthis place?" Then the roosters cocked their heads and answered: "Itsname's Lillgarde this year--the same as last year. "

Most of the cottages were probably named after their owners--which isthe custom in Skåne. But instead of saying this is "Per Matssons, " or"Ola Bossons, " the roosters hit upon the kind of names which, to theirway of thinking, were more appropriate. Those who lived on small farms, and belonged to poor cottagers, cried: "This place is calledGrainscarce. " And those who belonged to the poorest hut-dwellersscreamed: "The name of this place is Little-to-eat, Little-to-eat, Little-to-eat. "

The big, well-cared-for farms got high-sounding names from theroosters--such as Luckymeadows, Eggberga and Moneyville. 

But the roosters on the great landed estates were too high and mighty tocondescend to anything like jesting. One of them crowed and called outwith such gusto that it sounded as if he wanted to be heard clear up tothe sun: "This is Herr Dybeck's estate; the same this year as last year;this year as last year. "

A little further on strutted one rooster who crowed: "This is Swanholm, surely all the world knows that!"

The boy observed that the geese did not fly straight forward; butzigzagged hither and thither over the whole South country, just asthough they were glad to be in Skåne again and wanted to pay theirrespects to every separate place. 

They came to one place where there were a number of big, clumsy-lookingbuildings with great, tall chimneys, and all around these were a lot ofsmaller houses. "This is Jordberga Sugar Refinery, " cried the roosters. The boy shuddered as he sat there on the goose's back. He ought to haverecognised this place, for it was not very far from his home. 

Here he had worked the year before as a watch boy; but, to be sure, nothing was exactly like itself when one saw it like that--from upabove. 

And think! Just think! Osa the goose girl and little Mats, who were hiscomrades last year! Indeed the boy would have been glad to know if theystill were anywhere about here. Fancy what they would have said, hadthey suspected that he was flying over their heads!

Soon Jordberga was lost to sight, and they travelled towards Svedala andSkaber Lake and back again over Görringe Cloister and Häckeberga. Theboy saw more of Skåne in this one day than he had ever seen before--inall the years that he had lived. 

Whenever the wild geese happened across any tame geese, they had thebest fun! They flew forward very slowly and called down: "We're off tothe hills. Are you coming along? Are you coming along?"

But the tame geese answered: "It's still winter in this country. You'reout too soon. Fly back! Fly back!"

The wild geese lowered themselves that they might be heard a littlebetter, and called: "Come along! We'll teach you how to fly and swim. "

Then the tame geese got mad and wouldn't answer them with a single honk. 

The wild geese sank themselves still lower--until they almost touchedthe ground--then, quick as lightning, they raised themselves, just as ifthey'd been terribly frightened. "Oh, oh, oh!" they exclaimed. "Thosethings were not geese. They were only sheep, they were only sheep. "

The ones on the ground were beside themselves with rage and shrieked:"May you be shot, the whole lot o' you! The whole lot o' you!"

When the boy heard all this teasing he laughed. Then he remembered howbadly things had gone with him, and he cried. But the next second, hewas laughing again. 

Never before had he ridden so fast; and to ride fast andrecklessly--that he had always liked. And, of course, he had neverdreamed that it could be as fresh and bracing as it was, up in the air;or that there rose from the earth such a fine scent of resin and soil. Nor had he ever dreamed what it could be like--to ride so high above theearth. It was just like flying away from sorrow and trouble andannoyances of every kind that could be thought of. 

AKKA FROM KEBNEKAISE

EVENING

The big tame goosey-gander that had followed them up in the air, feltvery proud of being permitted to travel back and forth over the Southcountry with the wild geese, and crack jokes with the tame birds. But inspite of his keen delight, he began to tire as the afternoon wore on. Hetried to take deeper breaths and quicker wing-strokes, but even so heremained several goose-lengths behind the others. 

When the wild geese who flew last, noticed that the tame one couldn'tkeep up with them, they began to call to the goose who rode in thecentre of the angle and led the procession: "Akka from Kebnekaise! Akkafrom Kebnekaise!" "What do you want of me?" asked the leader. "The whiteone will be left behind; the white one will be left behind. " "Tell himit's easier to fly fast than slow!" called the leader, and raced on asbefore. 

The goosey-gander certainly tried to follow the advice, and increase hisspeed; but then he became so exhausted that he sank away down to thedrooping willows that bordered the fields and meadows. 

"Akka, Akka, Akka from Kebnekaise!" cried those who flew last and sawwhat a hard time he was having. "What do you want now?" asked theleader--and she sounded awfully angry. "The white one sinks to theearth; the white one sinks to the earth. " "Tell him it's easier to flyhigh than low!" shouted the leader, and she didn't slow up the leastlittle bit, but raced on as before. 

The goosey-gander tried also to follow this advice; but when he wantedto raise himself, he became so winded that he almost burst his breast. 

"Akka, Akka!" again cried those who flew last. "Can't you let me fly inpeace?" asked the leader, and she sounded even madder than before. 

"The white one is ready to collapse. " "Tell him that he who has not thestrength to fly with the flock, can go back home!" cried the leader. Shecertainly had no idea of decreasing her speed--but raced on as before. 

"Oh! is that the way the wind blows, " thought the goosey-gander. Heunderstood at once that the wild geese had never intended to take himalong up to Lapland. They had only lured him away from home in sport. 

He felt thoroughly exasperated. To think that his strength should failhim now, so he wouldn't be able to show these tramps that even a tamegoose was good for something! But the most provoking thing of all wasthat he had fallen in with Akka from Kebnekaise. Tame goose that he was, he had heard about a leader goose, named Akka, who was more than ahundred years old. She had such a big name that the best wild geese inthe world followed her. But no one had such a contempt for tame geeseas Akka and her flock, and gladly would he have shown them that he wastheir equal. 

He flew slowly behind the rest, while he deliberated whether he shouldturn back or continue. Finally, the little creature that he carried onhis back said: "Dear Morten Goosey-gander, you know well enough that itis simply impossible for you, who have never flown, to go with the wildgeese all the way up to Lapland. Won't you turn back before you killyourself?"

But the farmer's lad was about the worst thing the goosey-gander knewanything about, and as soon as it dawned on him that this puny creatureactually believed that he couldn't make the trip, he decided to stick itout. "If you say another word about this, I'll drop you into the firstditch we ride over!" said he, and at the same time his fury gave him somuch strength that he began to fly almost as well as any of the others. 

It isn't likely that he could have kept this pace up very long, neitherwas it necessary; for, just then, the sun sank quickly; and at sunsetthe geese flew down, and before the boy and the goosey-gander knew whathad happened, they stood on the shores of Vomb Lake. 

"They probably intend that we shall spend the night here, " thought theboy, and jumped down from the goose's back. 

He stood on a narrow beach by a fair-sized lake. It was ugly to lookupon, because it was almost entirely covered with an ice-crust that wasblackened and uneven and full of cracks and holes--as spring icegenerally is. 

The ice was already breaking up. It was loose and floating and had abroad belt of dark, shiny water all around it; but there was stillenough of it left to spread chill and winter terror over the place. 

On the other side of the lake there appeared to be an open and lightcountry, but where the geese had lighted there was a thick pine-growth. It looked as if the forest of firs and pines had the power to bind thewinter to itself. Everywhere else the ground was bare; but beneath thesharp pine-branches lay snow that had been melting and freezing, meltingand freezing, until it was hard as ice. 

The boy thought he had struck an arctic wilderness, and he was somiserable that he wanted to scream. He was hungry too. He hadn't eaten abite the whole day. But where should he find any food? Nothing eatablegrew on either ground or tree in the month of March. 

Yes, where was he to find food, and who would give him shelter, and whowould fix his bed, and who would protect him from the wild beasts?

For now the sun was away and frost came from the lake, and darkness sankdown from heaven, and terror stole forward on the twilight's trail, andin the forest it began to patter and rustle. 

Now the good humour which the boy had felt when he was up in the air, was gone, and in his misery he looked around for his travellingcompanions. He had no one but them to cling to now. 

Then he saw that the goosey-gander was having even a worse time of itthan he. He was lying prostrate on the spot where he had alighted; andit looked as if he were ready to die. His neck lay flat against theground, his eyes were closed, and his breathing sounded like a feeblehissing. 

"Dear Morten Goosey-Gander, " said the boy, "try to get a swallow ofwater! It isn't two steps to the lake. "

But the goosey-gander didn't stir. 

The boy had certainly been cruel to all animals, and to thegoosey-gander in times gone by; but now he felt that the goosey-ganderwas the only comfort he had left, and he was dreadfully afraid of losinghim. 

At once the boy began to push and drag him, to get him into the water, but the goosey-gander was big and heavy, and it was mighty hard work forthe boy; but at last he succeeded. 

The goosey-gander got in head first. For an instant he lay motionless inthe slime, but soon he poked up his head, shook the water from his eyesand sniffed. Then he swam, proudly, between reeds and seaweed. 

The wild geese were in the lake before him. They had not looked aroundfor either the goosey-gander or for his rider, but had made straightfor the water. They had bathed and primped, and now they lay and gulpedhalf-rotten pond-weed and water-clover. 

The white goosey-gander had the good fortune to spy a perch. He grabbedit quickly, swam ashore with it, and laid it down in front of the boy. "Here's a thank you for helping me into the water, " said he. 

It was the first time the boy had heard a friendly word that day. He wasso happy that he wanted to throw his arms around the goosey-gander'sneck, but he refrained; and he was also thankful for the gift. At firsthe must have thought that it would be impossible to eat raw fish, andthen he had a notion to try it. 

He felt to see if he still had his sheath-knife with him; and, sureenough, there it hung--on the back button of his trousers, although itwas so diminished that it was hardly as long as a match. Well, at anyrate, it served to scale and cleanse fish with; and it wasn't longbefore the perch was eaten. 

When the boy had satisfied his hunger, he felt a little ashamed becausehe had been able to eat a raw thing. "It's evident that I'm not a humanbeing any longer, but a real elf, " thought he. 

While the boy ate, the goosey-gander stood silently beside him. But whenhe had swallowed the last bite, he said in a low voice: "It's a factthat we have run across a stuck-up goose folk who despise all tamebirds. "

"Yes, I've observed that, " said the boy. 

"What a triumph it would be for me if I could follow them clear up toLapland, and show them that even a tame goose can do things!"

"Y-e-e-s, " said the boy, and drawled it out because he didn't believethe goosey-gander could ever do it; yet he didn't wish to contradicthim. "But I don't think I can get along all alone on such a journey, "said the goosey-gander. "I'd like to ask if you couldn't come along andhelp me?" The boy, of course, hadn't expected anything but to return tohis home as soon as possible, and he was so surprised that he hardlyknew what he should reply. "I thought that we were enemies, you and I, "said he. But this the goosey-gander seemed to have forgotten entirely. He only remembered that the boy had but just saved his life. 

"I suppose I really ought to go home to father and mother, " said theboy. "Oh! I'll get you back to them some time in the fall, " said thegoosey-gander. "I shall not leave you until I put you down on your owndoorstep. "

The boy thought it might be just as well for him if he escaped showinghimself before his parents for a while. He was not disinclined to favourthe scheme, and was just on the point of saying that he agreed toit--when they heard a loud rumbling behind them. It was the wild geesewho had come up from the lake--all at one time--and stood shaking thewater from their backs. After that they arranged themselves in a longrow--with the leader-goose in the centre--and came toward them. 

As the white goosey-gander sized up the wild geese, he felt ill at ease. He had expected that they should be more like tame geese, and that heshould feel a closer kinship with them. They were much smaller than he, and none of them were white. They were all gray with a sprinkling ofbrown. He was almost afraid of their eyes. They were yellow, and shoneas if a fire had been kindled back of them. The goosey-gander had alwaysbeen taught that it was most fitting to move slowly and with a rollingmotion, but these creatures did not walk--they half ran. He grew mostalarmed, however, when he looked at their feet. These were large, andthe soles were torn and ragged-looking. It was evident that the wildgeese never questioned what they tramped upon. They took no by-paths. They were very neat and well cared for in other respects, but one couldsee by their feet that they were poor wilderness-folk. 

The goosey-gander only had time to whisper to the boy: "Speak up quicklyfor yourself, but don't tell them who you are!"--before the geese wereupon them. 

When the wild geese had stopped in front of them, they curtsied withtheir necks many times, and the goosey-gander did likewise many moretimes. As soon as the ceremonies were over, the leader-goose said: "NowI presume we shall hear what kind of creatures you are. "

"There isn't much to tell about me, " said the goosey-gander. "I was bornin Skanor last spring. In the fall I was sold to Holger Nilsson of WestVemminghög, and there I have lived ever since. " "You don't seem to haveany pedigree to boast of, " said the leader-goose. "What is it, then, that makes you so high-minded that you wish to associate with wildgeese?" "It may be because I want to show you wild geese that we tameones may also be good for something, " said the goosey-gander. "Yes, itwould be well if you could show us that, " said the leader-goose. "Wehave already observed how much you know about flying; but you are moreskilled, perhaps, in other sports. Possibly you are strong in a swimmingmatch?" "No, I can't boast that I am, " said the goosey-gander. It seemedto him that the leader-goose had already made up her mind to send himhome, so he didn't much care how he answered. "I never swam any fartherthan across a marl-ditch, " he continued. "Then I presume you're a cracksprinter, " said the goose. "I have never seen a tame goose run, nor haveI ever done it myself, " said the goosey-gander; and he made thingsappear much worse than they really were. 

The big white one was sure now that the leader-goose would say thatunder no circumstances could they take him along. He was very muchastonished when she said: "You answer questions courageously; and he whohas courage can become a good travelling companion, even if he isignorant in the beginning. What do you say to stopping with us for acouple of days, until we can see what you are good for?" "That suitsme!" said the goosey-gander--and he was thoroughly happy. 

Thereupon the leader-goose pointed with her bill and said: "But who isthat you have with you? I've never seen anything like him before. ""That's my comrade, " said the goosey-gander. "He's been a goose-tenderall his life. He'll be useful all right to take with us on the trip. ""Yes, he may be all right for a tame goose, " answered the wild one. "What do you call him?" "He has several names, " said thegoosey-gander--hesitantly, not knowing what he should hit upon in ahurry, for he didn't want to reveal the fact that the boy had a humanname. "Oh! his name is Thumbietot, " he said at last. "Does he belong tothe elf family?" asked the leader-goose. "At what time do you wild geeseusually retire?" said the goosey-gander quickly--trying to evade thatlast question. "My eyes close of their own accord about this time. "

One could easily see that the goose who talked with the gander was veryold. Her entire feather outfit was ice-gray, without any dark streaks. The head was larger, the legs coarser, and the feet were more worn thanany of the others. The feathers were stiff; the shoulders knotty; theneck thin. All this was due to age. It was only upon the eyes that timehad had no effect. They shone brighter--as if they were younger--thanany of the others!

She turned, very haughtily, toward the goosey-gander. "Understand, Mr. Tame-goose, that I am Akka from Kebnekaise! And that the goose who fliesnearest me--to the right--is Iksi from Vassijaure, and the one to theleft, is Kaksi from Nuolja! Understand, also, that the second right-handgoose is Kolmi from Sarjektjakko, and the second, left, is Neljä fromSvappavaara; and behind them fly Viisi from Oviksfjällen and Kuusi fromSjangeli! And know that these, as well as the six goslings who flylast--three to the right, and three to the left--are all high mountaingeese of the finest breed! You must not take us for land-lubbers whostrike up a chance acquaintance with any and everyone! And you must notthink that we permit anyone to share our quarters, that will not tell uswho his ancestors were. "

When Akka, the leader-goose, talked in this way, the boy stepped brisklyforward. It had distressed him that the goosey-gander, who had spoken upso glibly for himself, should give such evasive answers when itconcerned him. "I don't care to make a secret of who I am, " said he. "Myname is Nils Holgersson. I'm a farmer's son, and, until to-day, I havebeen a human being; but this morning--" He got no further. As soon as hehad said that he was human the leader-goose staggered three stepsbackward, and the rest of them even farther back. They all extendedtheir necks and hissed angrily at him. 

"I have suspected this ever since I first saw you here on these shores, "said Akka; "and now you can clear out of here at once. We tolerate nohuman beings among us. "

"It isn't possible, " said the goosey-gander, meditatively, "that youwild geese can be afraid of anyone who is so tiny! By to-morrow, ofcourse, he'll turn back home. You can surely let him stay with usovernight. None of us can afford to let such a poor little creaturewander off by himself in the night--among weasels and foxes!"

The wild goose came nearer. But it was evident that it was hard for herto master her fear. "I have been taught to fear everything in humanshape--be it big or little, " said she. "But if you will answer for thisone, and swear that he will not harm us, he can stay with us to-night. But I don't believe our night quarters are suitable either for him oryou, for we intend to roost on the broken ice out here. "

She thought, of course, that the goosey-gander would be doubtful whenhe heard this, but he never let on. "She is pretty wise who knows how tochoose such a safe bed, " said he. 

"You will be answerable for his return to his own to-morrow. "

"Then I, too, will have to leave you, " said the goosey-gander. "I havesworn that I would not forsake him. "

"You are free to fly whither you will, " said the leader-goose. 

With this, she raised her wings and flew out over the ice and one afteranother the wild geese followed her. 

The boy was very sad to think that his trip to Lapland would not comeoff, and, in the bargain, he was afraid of the chilly night quarters. "It will be worse and worse, " said he. "In the first place, we'll freezeto death on the ice. "

But the gander was in a good humour. "There's no danger, " said he. "Onlymake haste, I beg of you, and gather together as much grass and litteras you can well carry. "

When the boy had his arms full of dried grass, the goosey-gander grabbedhim by the shirt-band, lifted him, and flew out on the ice, where thewild geese were already fast asleep, with their bills tucked under theirwings. 

"Now spread out the grass on the ice, so there'll be something to standon, to keep me from freezing fast. You help me and I'll help you, " saidthe goosey-gander. 

This the boy did. And when he had finished, the goosey-gander pickedhim up, once again, by the shirt-band, and tucked him under his wing. "Ithink you'll lie snug and warm there, " said the goosey-gander as hecovered him with his wing. 

The boy was so imbedded in down that he couldn't answer, and he was niceand comfy. Oh, but he was tired!--And in less than two winks he was fastasleep. 

NIGHT

It is a fact that ice is always treacherous and not to be trusted. Inthe middle of the night the loosened ice-cake on Vomb Lake moved about, until one corner of it touched the shore. Now it happened that Mr. Smirre Fox, who lived at this time in Övid Cloister Park--on the eastside of the lake--caught a glimpse of that one corner, while he was outon his night chase. Smirre had seen the wild geese early in the evening, and hadn't dared to hope that he might get at one of them, but now hewalked right out on the ice. 

When Smirre was very near to the geese, his claws scraped the ice, andthe geese awoke, flapped their wings, and prepared for flight. ButSmirre was too quick for them. He darted forward as though he'd beenshot; grabbed a goose by the wing, and ran toward land again. 

But this night the wild geese were not alone on the ice, for they had ahuman being among them--little as he was. The boy had awakened when thegoosey-gander spread his wings. He had tumbled down on the ice and wassitting there, dazed. He hadn't grasped the whys and wherefores of allthis confusion, until he caught sight of a little long-legged dog whoran over the ice with a goose in his mouth. 

In a minute the boy was after that dog, to try and take the goose awayfrom him. He must have heard the goosey-gander call to him: "Have acare, Thumbietot! Have a care!" But the boy thought that such a littlerunt of a dog was nothing to be afraid of and he rushed ahead. 

The wild goose that Smirre Fox tugged after him, heard the clatter asthe boy's wooden shoes beat against the ice, and she could hardlybelieve her ears. "Does that infant think he can take me away from thefox?" she wondered. And in spite of her misery, she began to cackleright merrily, deep down in her windpipe. It was almost as if she hadlaughed. 

"The first thing he knows, he'll fall through a crack in the ice, "thought she. 

But dark as the night was, the boy saw distinctly all the cracks andholes there were, and took daring leaps over them. This was because hehad the elf's good eyesight now, and could see in the dark. He saw bothlake and shore just as clearly as if it had been daylight. 

Smirre Fox left the ice where it touched the shore. And just as he wasworking his way up to the land-edge, the boy shouted: "Drop that goose, you sneak!"

Smirre didn't know who was calling to him, and wasted no time in lookingaround, but increased his pace. The fox made straight for the forest andthe boy followed him, with never a thought of the danger he was running. All he thought about was the contemptuous way in which he had beenreceived by the wild geese; and he made up his mind to let them see thata human being was something higher than all else created. 

He shouted, again and again, to that dog, to make him drop his game. "What kind of a dog are you, who can steal a whole goose and not feelashamed of yourself? Drop her at once! or you'll see what a beatingyou'll get. Drop her, I say, or I'll tell your master how you behave!"

When Smirre Fox saw that he had been mistaken for a scary dog, he was soamused that he came near dropping the goose. Smirre was a greatplunderer who wasn't satisfied with only hunting rats and pigeons in thefields, but he also ventured into the farmyards to steal chickens andgeese. He knew that he was feared throughout the district; and anythingas idiotic as this he had not heard since he was a baby. 

The boy ran so fast that the thick beech-trees appeared to be runningpast him--backward, but he caught up with Smirre. Finally, he was soclose to him that he got a hold on his tail. "Now I'll take the goosefrom you anyway, " cried he, and held on as hard as ever he could, but hehadn't strength enough to stop Smirre. The fox dragged him along untilthe dry foliage whirled around him. 

But now it began to dawn on Smirre how harmless the thing was thatpursued him. He stopped short, put the goose on the ground, and stood onher with his forepaws, so she couldn't fly away. He was just about tobite off her neck--but then he couldn't resist the desire to tease theboy a little. "Hurry off and complain to the master, for now I'm goingto bite the goose to death!" said he. 

Certainly the one who was surprised when he saw what a pointed nose, andheard what a hoarse and angry voice that dog which he was pursuinghad, --was the boy! But now he was so enraged because the fox had madefun of him, that he never thought of being frightened. He took a firmerhold on the tail, braced himself against a beech trunk; and just as thefox opened his jaws over the goose's throat, he pulled as hard as hecould. Smirre was so astonished that he let himself be pulled backward acouple of steps--and the wild goose got away. She fluttered upwardfeebly and heavily. One wing was so badly wounded that she could barelyuse it. In addition to this, she could not see in the night darkness ofthe forest but was as helpless as the blind. Therefore she could in noway help the boy; so she groped her way through the branches and flewdown to the lake again. 

Then Smirre made a dash for the boy. "If I don't get the one, I shallcertainly have the other, " said he; and you could tell by his voice howmad he was. "Oh, don't you believe it!" said the boy, who was in thebest of spirits because he had saved the goose. He held fast by thefox-tail, and swung with it--to one side--when the fox tried to catchhim. 

There was such a dance in that forest that the dry beech-leaves fairlyflew! Smirre swung round and round, but the tail swung too; while theboy kept a tight grip on it, so the fox could not grab him. 

The boy was so gay after his success that in the beginning, he laughedand made fun of the fox. But Smirre was persevering--as old huntersgenerally are--and the boy began to fear that he should be captured inthe end. Then he caught sight of a little, young beech-tree that hadshot up as slender as a rod, that it might soon reach the free air abovethe canopy of branches which the old beeches spread above it. 

Quick as a flash, he let go of the fox-tail and climbed the beech tree. Smirre Fox was so excited that he continued to dance around after histail. 

"Don't bother with the dance any longer!" said the boy. 

But Smirre couldn't endure the humiliation of his failure to get thebetter of such a little tot, so he lay down under the tree, that hemight keep a close watch on him. 

The boy didn't have any too good a time of it where he sat, astride afrail branch. The young beech did not, as yet, reach the highbranch-canopy, so the boy couldn't get over to another tree, and hedidn't dare to come down again. He was so cold and numb that he almostlost his hold around the branch; and he was dreadfully sleepy; but hedidn't dare fall asleep for fear of tumbling down. 

My! but it was dismal to sit in that way the whole night through, out inthe forest! He never before understood the real meaning of "night. " Itwas just as if the whole world had become petrified, and never couldcome to life again. 

Then it commenced to dawn. The boy was glad that everything began tolook like itself once more; although the chill was even sharper than ithad been during the night. 

Finally, when the sun got up, it wasn't yellow but red. The boy thoughtit looked as though it were angry and he wondered what it was angryabout. Perhaps it was because the night had made it so cold and gloomyon earth, while the sun was away. 

The sunbeams came down in great clusters, to see what the night had beenup to. It could be seen how everything blushed--as if they all hadguilty consciences. The clouds in the skies; the satiny beech-limbs; thelittle intertwined branches of the forest-canopy; the hoar-frost thatcovered the foliage on the ground--everything grew flushed and red. Moreand more sunbeams came bursting through space, and soon the night'sterrors were driven away, and such a marvellous lot of living thingscame forward. The black woodpecker, with the red neck, began to hammerwith its bill on the branch. The squirrel glided from his nest with anut, and sat down on a branch and began to shell it. The starling cameflying with a worm, and the bulfinch sang in the tree-top. 

Then the boy understood that the sun had said to all these tinycreatures: "Wake up now, and come out of your nests! I'm here! Now youneed be afraid of nothing. "

The wild-goose call was heard from the lake, as they were preparing forflight; and soon all fourteen geese came flying through the forest. Theboy tried to call to them, but they flew so high that his voice couldn'treach them. They probably believed the fox had eaten him up; and theydidn't trouble themselves to look for him. 

The boy came near crying with regret; but the sun stood upthere--orange-coloured and happy--and put courage into the whole world. "It isn't worth while, Nils Holgersson, for you to be troubled aboutanything, as long as I'm here, " said the sun. 

GOOSE-PLAY

_Monday, March twenty-first_. 

Everything remained unchanged in the forest--about as long as it takes agoose to eat her breakfast. But just as the morning was verging onforenoon, a goose came flying, all by herself, under the thicktree-canopy. She groped her way hesitatingly, between the stems andbranches, and flew very slowly. As soon as Smirre Fox saw her, he lefthis place under the beech tree, and sneaked up toward her. The wildgoose didn't avoid the fox, but flew very close to him. Smirre made ahigh jump for her but he missed her; and the goose went on her way downto the lake. 

It was not long before another goose came flying. She took the sameroute as the first one; and flew still lower and slower. She, too, flewclose to Smirre Fox, and he made such a high spring for her, that hisears brushed her feet. But she, too, got away from him unhurt, and wenther way toward the lake, silent as a shadow. 

A little while passed and then there came another wild goose. She flewstill slower and lower; and it seemed even more difficult for her tofind her way between the beech-branches. Smirre made a powerful spring!He was within a hair's breadth of catching her; but that goose alsomanaged to save herself. 

Just after she had disappeared, came a fourth. She flew so slowly, andso badly, that Smirre Fox thought he could catch her without mucheffort, but he was afraid of failure now, and concluded to let her flypast--unmolested. She took the same direction the others had taken; andjust as she was come right above Smirre, she sank down so far that hewas tempted to jump for her. He jumped so high that he touched her withhis tail. But she flung herself quickly to one side and saved her life. 

Before Smirre got through panting, three more geese came flying in arow. They flew just like the rest, and Smirre made high springs for themall, but he did not succeed in catching any one of them. 

After that came five geese; but these flew better than the others. Andalthough it seemed as if they wanted to lure Smirre to jump, hewithstood the temptation. After quite a long time came one single goose. It was the thirteenth. This one was so old that she was gray all over, without a dark speck anywhere on her body. She didn't appear to use onewing very well, but flew so wretchedly and crookedly, that she almosttouched the ground. Smirre not only made a high leap for her, but hepursued her, running and jumping all the way down to the lake. But noteven this time did he get anything for his trouble. 

When the fourteenth goose came along, it looked very pretty because itwas white. And as its great wings swayed, it glistened like a light, inthe dark forest. When Smirre Fox saw this one, he mustered all hisresources and jumped half-way up to the tree-canopy. But the white oneflew by unhurt like the rest. 

Now it was quiet for a moment under the beeches. It looked as if thewhole wild-goose-flock had travelled past. 

Suddenly Smirre remembered his prisoner and raised his eyes toward theyoung beech-tree. And just as he might have expected--the boy haddisappeared. 

But Smirre didn't have much time to think about him; for now the firstgoose came back again from the lake and flew slowly under the canopy. Inspite of all his ill luck, Smirre was glad that she came back, anddarted after her with a high leap. But he had been in too much of ahurry, and hadn't taken the time to calculate the distance, and helanded at one side of the goose. Then there came still another goose;then a third; a fourth; a fifth; and so on, until the angle closed inwith the old ice-gray one, and the big white one. They all flew low andslow. Just as they swayed in the vicinity of Smirre Fox, they sankdown--kind of inviting-like--for him to take them. Smirre ran after themand made leaps a couple of fathoms high--but he couldn't manage to gethold of a single one of them. 

It was the most awful day that Smirre Fox had ever experienced. The wildgeese kept on travelling over his head. They came and went--came andwent. Great splendid geese who had eaten themselves fat on the Germanheaths and grain fields, swayed all day through the woods, and so closeto him that he touched them many times; yet he was not permitted toappease his hunger with a single one of them. 

The winter was hardly gone yet, and Smirre recalled nights and days whenhe had been forced to tramp around in idleness, with not so much as ahare to hunt, when the rats hid themselves under the frozen earth; andwhen the chickens were all shut up. But all the winter's hunger had notbeen as hard to endure as this day's miscalculations. 

Smirre was no young fox. He had had the dogs after him many a time, andhad heard the bullets whizz around his ears. He had lain in hiding, downin the lair, while the dachshunds crept into the crevices and all butfound him. But all the anguish that Smirre Fox had been forced to sufferunder this hot chase, was not to be compared with what he suffered everytime that he missed one of the wild geese. 

In the morning, when the play began, Smirre Fox had looked so stunningthat the geese were amazed when they saw him. Smirre loved display. Hiscoat was a brilliant red; his breast white; his nose black; and his tailwas as bushy as a plume. But when the evening of this day was come, Smirre's coat hung in loose folds. He was bathed in sweat; his eyes werewithout lustre; his tongue hung far out from his gaping jaws; and frothoozed from his mouth. 

In the afternoon Smirre was so exhausted that he grew delirious. He sawnothing before his eyes but flying geese. He made leaps for sun-spotswhich he saw on the ground; and for a poor little butterfly that hadcome out of his chrysalis too soon. 

The wild geese flew and flew, unceasingly. All day long they continuedto torment Smirre. They were not moved to pity because Smirre was doneup, fevered, and out of his head. They continued without a let-up, although they understood that he hardly saw them, and that he jumpedafter their shadows. 

When Smirre Fox sank down on a pile of dry leaves, weak and powerlessand almost ready to give up the ghost, they stopped teasing him. 

"Now you know, Mr. Fox, what happens to the one who dares to come nearAkka of Kebnekaise!" they shouted in his ear; and with that they lefthim in peace. 

THE WONDERFUL JOURNEY OF NILS

ON THE FARM

_Thursday, March twenty-fourth_. 

Just at that time a thing happened in Skåne which created a good deal ofdiscussion and even got into the newspapers but which many believed tobe a fable, because they had not been able to explain it. 

It was about like this: A lady squirrel had been captured in thehazelbrush that grew on the shores of Vomb Lake, and was carried to afarmhouse close by. All the folks on the farm--both young and old--weredelighted with the pretty creature with the bushy tail, the wise, inquisitive eyes, and the natty little feet. They intended to amusethemselves all summer by watching its nimble movements; its ingeniousway of shelling nuts; and its droll play. They immediately put in orderan old squirrel cage with a little green house and a wire-cylinderwheel. The little house, which had both doors and windows, the ladysquirrel was to use as a dining room and bedroom. For this reason theyplaced therein a bed of leaves, a bowl of milk and some nuts. Thecylinder wheel, on the other hand, she was to use as a play-house, whereshe could run and climb and swing round. 

The people believed that they had arranged things very comfortably forthe lady squirrel, and they were astonished because she didn't seem tobe contented; but, instead, she sat there, downcast and moody, in acorner of her room. Every now and again, she would let out a shrill, agonised cry. She did not touch the food; and not once did she swinground on the wheel. "It's probably because she's frightened, " said thefarmer folk. "To-morrow, when she feels more at home, she will both eatand play. "

Meanwhile, the women folk on the farm were making preparations for afeast; and just on that day when the lady squirrel had been captured, they were busy with an elaborate bake. They had had bad luck withsomething: either the dough wouldn't rise, or else they had beendilatory, for they were obliged to work long after dark. 

Naturally there was a great deal of excitement and bustle in thekitchen, and probably no one there took time to think about thesquirrel, or to wonder how she was getting on. But there was an oldgrandma in the house who was too aged to take a hand in the baking; thisshe herself understood, but just the same she did not relish the idea ofbeing left out of the game. She felt rather downhearted; and for thisreason she did not go to bed but seated herself by the sitting-roomwindow and looked out. 

They had opened the kitchen door on account of the heat; and through ita clear ray of light streamed out on the yard; and it became so welllighted out there that the old woman could see all the cracks and holesin the plastering on the wall opposite. She also saw the squirrel cagewhich hung just where the light fell clearest. And she noticed how thesquirrel ran from her room to the wheel, and from the wheel to her room, all night long, without stopping an instant. She thought it was astrange sort of unrest that had come over the animal; but she believed, of course, that the strong light kept her awake. 

Between the cow-house and the stable there was a broad, handsomecarriage-gate; this too came within the light-radius. As the night woreon, the old grandma saw a tiny creature, no bigger than a hand'sbreadth, cautiously steal his way through the gate. He was dressed inleather breeches and wooden shoes like any other working man. The oldgrandma knew at once that it was the elf, and she was not the least bitfrightened. She had always heard that the elf kept himself somewhereabout the place, although she had never seen him before; and an elf, tobe sure, brought good luck wherever he appeared. 

As soon as the elf came into the stone-paved yard, he ran right up tothe squirrel cage. And since it hung so high that he could not reach it, he went over to the store-house after a rod; placed it against the cage, and swung himself up--in the same way that a sailor climbs a rope. Whenhe had reached the cage, he shook the door of the little green house asif he wanted to open it; but the old grandma didn't move; for she knewthat the children had put a padlock on the door, as they feared that theboys on the neighbouring farms would try to steal the squirrel. The oldwoman saw that when the boy could not get the door open, the ladysquirrel came out to the wire wheel. There they held a long conferencetogether. And when the boy had listened to all that the imprisonedanimal had to say to him, he slid down the rod to the ground, and ranout through the carriage-gate. 

The old woman didn't expect to see anything more of the elf that night, nevertheless, she remained at the window. After a few moments had goneby, he returned. He was in such a hurry that it seemed to her as thoughhis feet hardly touched the ground; and he rushed right up to thesquirrel cage. The old woman, with her far-sighted eyes, saw himdistinctly; and she also saw that he carried something in his hands; butwhat it was she couldn't imagine. The thing he carried in his left handhe laid down on the pavement; but that which he held in his right handhe took with him to the cage. He kicked so hard with his wooden shoes onthe little window that the glass was broken. He poked in the thing whichhe held in his hand to the lady squirrel. Then he slid down again, andtook up that which he had laid upon the ground, and climbed up to thecage with that also. The next instant he ran off again with such hastethat the old woman could hardly follow him with her eyes. 

But now it was the old grandma who could no longer sit still in thecottage; but who, very slowly, went out to the back yard and stationedherself in the shadow of the pump to await the elf's return. And therewas one other who had also seen him and had become curious. This was thehouse cat. He crept along slyly and stopped close to the wall, just twosteps away from the stream of light. They both stood and waited, longand patiently, on that chilly March night, and the old woman was justbeginning to think about going in again, when she heard a clatter on thepavement, and saw that the little mite of an elf came trotting alongonce more, carrying a burden in each hand, as he had done before. Thatwhich he bore squealed and squirmed. And now a light dawned on the oldgrandma. She understood that the elf had hurried down to the hazel-groveand brought back the lady squirrel's babies; and that he was carryingthem to her so they shouldn't starve to death. 

The old grandma stood very still, so as not to disturb them; and it didnot look as if the elf had noticed her. He was just going to lay one ofthe babies on the ground so that he could swing himself up to the cagewith the other one--when he saw the house cat's green eyes glisten closebeside him. He stood there, bewildered, with a young one in each hand. 

He turned around and looked in all directions; then he became aware ofthe old grandma's presence. Then he did not hesitate long; but walkedforward, stretched his arms as high as he could reach, for her to takeone of the baby squirrels. 

The old grandma did not wish to prove herself unworthy of theconfidence, so she bent down and took the baby squirrel, and stood thereand held it until the boy had swung himself up to the cage with theother one. Then he came back for the one he had entrusted to her care. 

The next morning, when the farm folk had gathered together forbreakfast, it was impossible for the old woman to refrain from tellingthem of what she had seen the night before. They all laughed at her, ofcourse, and said that she had been only dreaming. There were no babysquirrels this early in the year. 

But she was sure of her ground, and begged them to take a look into thesquirrel cage and this they did. And there lay on the bed of leaves, four tiny half-naked, half blind baby squirrels, who were at least acouple of days old. 

When the farmer himself saw the young ones, he said: "Be it as it maywith this; but one thing is certain, we, on this farm, have behaved insuch a manner that we are shamed before both animals and human beings. "And, thereupon, he took the mother squirrel and all her young ones fromthe cage, and laid them in the old grandma's lap. "Go thou out to thehazel-grove with them, " said he, "and let them have their freedom backagain!"

It was this event that was so much talked about, and which even got intothe newspapers, but which the majority would not credit because theywere not able to explain how anything like that could have happened. 

VITTSKÖVLE

_Saturday, March twenty-sixth_. 

Two days later, another strange thing happened. A flock of wild geesecame flying one morning, and lit on a meadow down in Eastern Skåne notvery far from Vittskövle manor. In the flock were thirteen wild geese, of the usual gray variety, and one white goosey-gander, who carried onhis back a tiny lad dressed in yellow leather breeches, green vest, anda white woollen toboggan hood. 

They were now very near the Eastern sea; and on the meadow where thegeese had alighted the soil was sandy, as it usually is on thesea-coast. It looked as if, formerly, there had been flying sand in thisvicinity which had to be held down; for in several directions large, planted pine-woods could be seen. 

When the wild geese had been feeding a while, several children camealong, and walked on the edge of the meadow. The goose who was on guardat once raised herself into the air with noisy wing-strokes, so thewhole flock should hear that there was danger on foot. All the wildgeese flew upward; but the white one trotted along on the groundunconcerned. When he saw the others fly he raised his head and calledafter them: "You needn't fly away from these! They are only a couple ofchildren!"

The little creature who had been riding on his back, sat down upon aknoll on the outskirts of the wood and picked a pine-cone in pieces, that he might get at the seeds. The children were so close to him thathe did not dare to run across the meadow to the white one. He concealedhimself under a big, dry thistle-leaf, and at the same time gave awarning-cry. But the white one had evidently made up his mind not to lethimself be scared. He walked along on the ground all the while; and notonce did he look to see in what direction they were going. 

Meanwhile, they turned from the path, walked across the field, gettingnearer and nearer to the goosey-gander. When he finally did look up, they were right upon him. He was so dumfounded, and became so confused, he forgot that he could fly, and tried to get out of their reach byrunning. But the children followed, chasing him into a ditch, and therethey caught him. The larger of the two stuck him under his arm andcarried him off. 

When the boy, who lay under the thistle-leaf saw this, he sprang up asif he wanted to take the goosey-gander away from them; then he must haveremembered how little and powerless he was, for he threw himself on theknoll and beat upon the ground with his clenched fists. 

The goosey-gander cried with all his might for help: "Thumbietot, comeand help me! Oh, Thumbietot, come and help me!" The boy began to laughin the midst of his distress. "Oh, yes! I'm just the right one to helpanybody, I am!" said he. 

Anyway he got up and followed the goosey-gander. "I can't help him, "said he, "but I shall at least find out where they are taking him. "

The children had a good start; but the boy had no difficulty in keepingthem within sight until they came to a hollow where a brook gushedforth. But here he was obliged to run alongside of it for some littletime, before he could find a place narrow enough for him to jump over. 

When he came up from the hollow the children had disappeared. He couldsee their footprints on a narrow path which led to the woods, and thesehe continued to follow. 

Soon he came to a cross-road. Here the children must have separated, forthere were footprints in two directions. The boy looked now as if allhope had fled. Then he saw a little white down on a heather-knoll, andhe understood that the goosey-gander had dropped this by the wayside tolet him know in which direction he had been carried; and therefore hecontinued his search. He followed the children through the entire wood. The goosey-gander he did not see; but wherever he was likely to miss hisway, lay a little white down to put him right. 

The boy continued faithfully to follow the bits of down. They led himout of the wood, across a couple of meadows, up on a road, and finallythrough the entrance of a broad _allée_. At the end of the _allée_ therewere gables and towers of red tiling, decorated with bright borders andother ornamentations that glittered and shone. When the boy saw thatthis was some great manor, he thought he knew what had become of thegoosey-gander. "No doubt the children have carried the goosey-gander tothe manor and sold him there. By this time he's probably butchered, " hesaid to himself. But he did not seem to be satisfied with anything lessthan proof positive, and with renewed courage he ran forward. He met noone in the _allée_--and that was well, for such as he are generallyafraid of being seen by human beings. 

The mansion which he came to was a splendid, old-time structure withfour great wings which inclosed a courtyard. On the east wing, there wasa high arch leading into the courtyard. This far the boy ran withouthesitation, but when he got there he stopped. He dared not venturefarther, but stood still and pondered what he should do now. 

There he stood, with his finger on his nose, thinking, when he heardfootsteps behind him; and as he turned around he saw a whole companymarch up the _allée_. In haste he stole behind a water-barrel whichstood near the arch, and hid himself. 

Those who came up were some twenty young men from a folk-high-school, out on a walking tour. They were accompanied by one of the instructors. When they were come as far as the arch, the teacher requested them towait there a moment, while he went in and asked if they might see theold castle of Vittskövle. 

The newcomers were warm and tired; as if they had been on a long tramp. One of them was so thirsty that he went over to the water-barrel andstooped down to drink. He had a tin box such as botanists use hangingabout his neck. He evidently thought that this was in his way, for hethrew it down on the ground. With this, the lid flew open, and one couldsee that there were a few spring flowers in it. 

The botanist's box dropped just in front of the boy; and he must havethought that here was his opportunity to get into the castle and findout what had become of the goosey-gander. He smuggled himself quicklyinto the box and concealed himself as well as he could under theanemones and colt's-foot. 

He was hardly hidden before the young man picked the box up, hung itaround his neck, and slammed down the cover. 

Then the teacher came back, and said that they had been givenpermission to enter the castle. At first he conducted them no fartherthan the courtyard. There he stopped and began to talk to them aboutthis ancient structure. 

He called their attention to the first human beings who had inhabitedthis country, and who had been obliged to live in mountain-grottoes andearth-caves; in the dens of wild beasts, and in the brushwood; and thata very long period had elapsed before they learned to build themselveshuts from the trunks of trees. And afterward how long had they not beenforced to labour and struggle, before they had advanced from the logcabin, with its single room, to the building of a castle with a hundredrooms--like Vittskövle!

It was about three hundred and fifty years ago that the rich andpowerful built such castles for themselves, he said. It was very evidentthat Vittskövle had been erected at a time when wars and robbers made itunsafe in Skåne. All around the castle was a deep trench filled withwater; and across this there had been a bridge in bygone days that couldbe hoisted up. Over the gate-arch there is, even to this day, awatch-tower; and all along the sides of the castle ran sentry-galleries, and in the corners stood towers with walls a metre thick. Yet the castlehad not been erected in the most savage war time; for Jens Brahe, whobuilt it, had also studied to make of it a beautiful and decorativeornament. If they could see the big, solid stone structure at Glimminge, which had been built only a generation earlier, they would readily seethat Jans Holgersen Ulfstand, the builder, hadn't figured upon anythingelse--only to build big and strong and secure, without bestowing athought upon making it beautiful and comfortable. If they visited suchcastles as Marsvinsholm, Snogeholm and Övid's Cloister--which wereerected a hundred years or so later--they would find that the times hadbecome less warlike. The gentlemen who built these places, had notfurnished them with fortifications; but had only taken pains to providethemselves with great, splendid dwelling houses. 

The teacher talked at length--and in detail; and the boy who lay shut upin the box was pretty impatient; but he must have lain very still, forthe owner of the box hadn't the least suspicion that he was carrying himalong. 

Finally the company went into the castle. But if the boy had hoped fora chance to crawl out of that box, he was deceived; for the studentcarried it upon him all the while, and the boy was obliged to accompanyhim through all the rooms. It was a tedious tramp. The teacher stoppedevery other minute to explain and instruct. 

In one room he found an old fireplace, and before this he stopped totalk about the different kinds of fireplaces that had been used in thecourse of time. The first indoors fireplace had been a big, flat stoneon the floor of the hut, with an opening in the roof which let in bothwind and rain. The next had been a big stone hearth with no opening inthe roof. This must have made the hut very warm, but it also filled itwith soot and smoke. When Vittskövle was built, the people had advancedfar enough to open the fireplace, which, at that time, had a widechimney for the smoke; but it also took most of the warmth up in the airwith it. 

If that boy had ever in his life been cross and impatient, he was givena good lesson in patience that day. It must have been a whole hour nowthat he had lain perfectly still. 

In the next room they came to, the teacher stopped before an old-timebed with its high canopy and rich curtains. Immediately he began to talkabout the beds and bed places of olden days. 

The teacher didn't hurry himself; but then he did not know, of course, that a poor little creature lay shut up in a botanist's box, and onlywaited for him to get through. When they came to a room with gildedleather hangings, he talked to them about how the people had dressedtheir walls and ceilings ever since the beginning of time. And when hecame to an old family portrait, he told them all about the differentchanges in dress. And in the banquet halls he described ancient customsof celebrating weddings and funerals. 

Thereupon, the teacher talked a little about the excellent men and womenwho had lived in the castle; about the old Brahes, and the oldBarnekows; of Christian Barnekow, who had given his horse to the king tohelp him escape; of Margareta Ascheberg who had been married to KjellBarnekow and who, when a widow, had managed the estates and the wholedistrict for fifty-three years; of banker Hageman, a farmer's son fromVittskövle, who had grown so rich that he had bought the entire estate;about the Stjernsvärds, who had given the people of Skåne betterploughs, which enabled them to discard the ridiculous old wooden ploughsthat three oxen were hardly able to drag. During all this, the boy laystill. If he had ever been mischievous and shut the cellar door on hisfather or mother, he understood now how they had felt; for it was hoursand hours before that teacher got through. 

At last the teacher went out into the courtyard again. And there hediscoursed upon the tireless labour of mankind to procure for themselvestools and weapons, clothes and houses and ornaments. He said that suchan old castle as Vittskövle was a mile-post on time's highway. Here onecould see how far the people had advanced three hundred and fifty yearsago; and one could judge for oneself whether things had gone forward orbackward since their time. 

But this dissertation the boy escaped hearing; for the student whocarried him was thirsty again, and stole into the kitchen to ask for adrink of water. When the boy was carried into the kitchen, he shouldhave tried to look around for the goosey-gander. He had begun to move;and as he did this, he happened to press too hard against the lid--andit flew open. As botanists' box-lids are always flying open, the studentthought no more about the matter but pressed it down again. Then thecook asked him if he had a snake in the box. 

"No, I have only a few plants, " the student replied. "It was certainlysomething that moved there, " insisted the cook. The student threw backthe lid to show her that she was mistaken. "See for yourself--if--"

But he got no further, for now the boy dared not stay in the box anylonger, but with one bound he stood on the floor, and out he rushed. The maids hardly had time to see what it was that ran, but they hurriedafter it, nevertheless. 

The teacher still stood and talked when he was interrupted by shrillcries. "Catch him, catch him!" shrieked those who had come from thekitchen; and all the young men raced after the boy, who glided awayfaster than a rat. They tried to intercept him at the gate, but it wasnot so easy to get a hold on such a little creature, so, luckily, he gotout in the open. 

The boy did not dare to run down toward the open _allée, _ but turned inanother direction. He rushed through the garden into the back yard. Allthe while the people raced after him, shrieking and laughing. The poorlittle thing ran as hard as ever he could to get out of their way; butstill it looked as though the people would catch up with him. 

As he rushed past a labourer's cottage, he heard a goose cackle, and sawa white down lying on the doorstep. There, at last, was thegoosey-gander! He had been on the wrong track before. He thought no moreof housemaids and men, who were hounding him, but climbed up thesteps--and into the hallway. Farther he couldn't come, for the door waslocked. He heard how the goosey-gander cried and moaned inside, but hecouldn't get the door open. The hunters that were pursuing him camenearer and nearer, and, in the room, the goosey-gander cried more andmore pitifully. In this direst of needs the boy finally plucked upcourage and pounded on the door with all his might. 

A child opened it, and the boy looked into the room. In the middle ofthe floor sat a woman who held the goosey-gander tight to clip hisquill-feathers. It was her children who had found him, and she didn'twant to do him any harm. It was her intention to let him in among herown geese, had she only succeeded in clipping his wings so he couldn'tfly away. But a worse fate could hardly have happened to thegoosey-gander, and he shrieked and moaned with all his might. 

And a lucky thing it was that the woman hadn't started the clippingsooner. Now only two quills had fallen under the shears' when the doorwas opened--and the boy stood on the door-sill. But a creature likethat the woman had never seen before. She couldn't believe anything elsebut that it was Goa-Nisse himself; and in her terror she dropped theshears, clasped her hands--and forgot to hold on to the goosey-gander. 

As soon as he felt himself freed, he ran toward the door. He didn't givehimself time to stop; but, as he ran past him, he grabbed the boy by theneck-band and carried him along with him. On the stoop he spread hiswings and flew up in the air; at the same time he made a graceful sweepwith his neck and seated the boy on his smooth, downy back. 

And off they flew--while all Vittskövle stood and stared after them. 

IN ÖVID CLOISTER PARK

All that day, when the wild geese played with the fox, the boy lay andslept in a deserted squirrel nest. When he awoke, along toward evening, he felt very uneasy. "Well, now I shall soon be sent home again! ThenI'll have to exhibit myself before father and mother, " thought he. Butwhen he looked up and saw the wild geese, who lay and bathed in VombLake--not one of them said a word about his going. "They probably thinkthe white one is too tired to travel home with me to-night, " thought theboy. 

The next morning the geese were awake at daybreak, long before sunrise. Now the boy felt sure that he'd have to go home; but, curiously enough, both he and the white goosey-gander were permitted to follow the wildones on their morning tour. The boy couldn't comprehend the reason forthe delay, but he figured it out in this way, that the wild geese didnot care to send the goosey-gander on such a long journey until they hadboth eaten their fill. Come what might, he was only glad for everymoment that should pass before he must face his parents. 

The wild geese travelled over Övid's Cloister estate which was situatedin a beautiful park east of the lake, and looked very imposing with itsgreat castle; its well planned court surrounded by low walls andpavilions; its fine old-time garden with covered arbours, streams andfountains; its wonderful trees, trimmed bushes, and its evenly mownlawns with their beds of beautiful spring flowers. 

When the wild geese rode over the estate in the early morning hour therewas no human being about. When they had carefully assured themselves ofthis, they lowered themselves toward the dog kennel, and shouted: "Whatkind of a little hut is this? What kind of a little hut is this?"

Instantly the dog came out of his kennel--furiously angry--and barked atthe air. 

"Do you call this a hut, you tramps! Can't you see that this is a greatstone castle? Can't you see what fine terraces, and what a lot of prettywalls and windows and great doors it has, bow, wow, wow, wow? Don't yousee the grounds, can't you see the garden, can't you see theconservatories, can't you see the marble statues? You call this a hut, do you? Do huts have parks with beech-groves and hazel-bushes andtrailing vines and oak trees and firs and hunting-grounds filled withgame, wow, wow, wow? Do you call this a hut? Have you seen huts with somany outhouses around them that they look like a whole village? You mustknow of a lot of huts that have their own church and their ownparsonage; and that rule over the district and the peasant homes and theneighbouring farms and barracks, wow, wow, wow? Do you call this a hut?To this hut belong the richest possessions in Skåne, you beggars! Youcan't see a bit of land, from where you hang in the clouds, that doesnot obey commands from this hut, wow, wow, wow!"

All this the dog managed to cry out in one breath; and the wild geeseflew back and forth over the estate, and listened to him until he waswinded. But then they cried: "What are you so mad about? We didn't askabout the castle; we only wanted to know about your kennel, stupid!"

When the boy heard this joke, he laughed; then a thought stole in on himwhich at once made him serious. "Think how many of these amusing thingsyou would hear, if you could go with the wild geese through the wholecountry, all the way up to Lapland!" said he to himself. "And just now, when you are in such a bad fix, a trip like that would be the best thingyou could hit upon. "

The wild geese travelled to one of the wide fields, east of the estate, to eat grass-roots, and they kept this up for hours. In the meantime, the boy wandered in the great park which bordered the field. He huntedup a beech-nut grove and began to look up at the bushes, to see if anut from last fall still hung there. But again and again the thought ofthe trip came over him, as he walked in the park. He pictured to himselfwhat a fine time he would have if he went with the wild geese. To freezeand starve: that he believed he should have to do often enough; but as arecompense, he would escape both work and study. 

As he walked there, the old gray leader-goose came up to him, and askedif he had found anything eatable. No, that he hadn't, he replied, andthen she tried to help him. She couldn't find any nuts either, but shediscovered a couple of dried blossoms that hung on a brier-bush. Thesethe boy ate with a good relish. But he wondered what mother would say, if she knew that he had lived on raw fish and old winter-dried blossoms. 

When the wild geese had finally eaten themselves full, they bore offtoward the lake again, where they amused themselves with games untilalmost dinner time. 

The wild geese challenged the white goosey-gander to take part in allkinds of sports. They had swimming races, running races, and flyingraces with him. The big tame one did his level best to hold his own, butthe clever wild geese beat him every time. All the while, the boy sat onthe goosey-gander's back and encouraged him, and had as much fun as therest. They laughed and screamed and cackled, and it was remarkable thatthe people on the estate didn't hear them. 

When the wild geese were tired of play, they flew out on the ice andrested for a couple of hours. The afternoon they spent in pretty muchthe same way as the forenoon. First, a couple of hours feeding, thenbathing and play in the water near the ice-edge until sunset, when theyimmediately arranged themselves for sleep. 

"This is just the life that suits me, " thought the boy when he crept inunder the gander's wing. "But to-morrow, I suppose I'll be sent home. "

Before he fell asleep, he lay and thought that if he might go along withthe wild geese, he would escape all scoldings because he was lazy. Thenhe could cut loose every day, and his only worry would be to getsomething to eat. But he needed so little nowadays; and there wouldalways be a way to get that. 

So he pictured the whole scene to himself; what he should see, and allthe adventures that he would be in on. Yes, it would be somethingdifferent from the wear and tear at home. "If I could only go with thewild geese on their travels, I shouldn't grieve because I'd beentransformed, " thought the boy. 

He wasn't afraid of anything--except being sent home; but not even onWednesday did the geese say anything to him about going. That day passedin the same way as Tuesday; and the boy grew more and more contentedwith the outdoor life. He thought that he had the lovely Övid Cloisterpark--which was as large as a forest--all to himself; and he wasn'tanxious to go back to the stuffy cabin and the little patch of groundthere at home. 

On Wednesday he believed that the wild geese thought of keeping him withthem; but on Thursday he lost hope again. 

Thursday began just like the other days; the geese fed on the broadmeadows, and the boy hunted for food in the park. After a while Akkacame to him, and asked if he had found anything to eat. No, he had not;and then she looked up a dry caraway herb, that had kept all its tinyseeds intact. 

When the boy had eaten, Akka said that she thought he ran around in thepark altogether too recklessly. She wondered if he knew how many enemieshe had to guard against--he, who was so little. No, he didn't knowanything at all about that. Then Akka began to enumerate them for him. 

Whenever he walked in the park, she said, that he must look out for thefox and the marten; when he came to the shores of the lake, he mustthink of the otters; as he sat on the stone wall, he must not forget theweasels, who could creep through the smallest holes; and if he wished tolie down and sleep on a pile of leaves, he must first find out if theadders were not sleeping their winter sleep in the same pile. As soon ashe came out in the open fields, he should keep an eye out for hawks andbuzzards; for eagles and falcons that soared in the air. In thebramble-bush he could be captured by the sparrow-hawks; magpies andcrows were found everywhere and in these he mustn't place any too muchconfidence. As soon as it was dusk, he must keep his ears open andlisten for the big owls, who flew along with such soundless wing-strokesthat they could come right up to him before he was aware of theirpresence. 

When the boy heard that there were so many who were after his life, hethought that it would be simply impossible for him to escape. He was notparticularly afraid to die, but he didn't like the idea of being eatenup, so he asked Akka what he should do to protect himself from thecarnivorous animals. 

Akka answered at once that the boy should try to get on good terms withall the small animals in the woods and fields: with the squirrel-folk, and the hare-family; with bullfinches and the titmice and woodpeckersand larks. If he made friends with them, they could warn him againstdangers, find hiding places for him, and protect him. 

But later in the day, when the boy tried to profit by this counsel, andturned to Sirle Squirrel to ask for his protection, it was evident thathe did not care to help him. "You surely can't expect anything from me, or the rest of the small animals!" said Sirle. "Don't you think we knowthat you are Nils the goose boy, who tore down the swallow's nest lastyear, crushed the starling's eggs, threw baby crows in the marl-ditch, caught thrushes in snares, and put squirrels in cages? You just helpyourself as well as you can; and you may be thankful that we do not forma league against you, and drive you back to your own kind!"

This was just the sort of answer the boy would not have let gounpunished, in the days when he was Nils the goose boy. But now he wasonly fearful lest the wild geese, too, had found out how wicked he couldbe. He had been so anxious for fear he wouldn't be permitted to staywith the wild geese, that he hadn't dared to get into the least littlemischief since he joined their company. It was true that he didn't havethe power to do much harm now, but, little as he was, he could havedestroyed many birds' nests, and crushed many eggs, if he'd been in amind to. Now he had been good. He hadn't pulled a feather from agoose-wing, or given anyone a rude answer; and every morning when hecalled upon Akka he had always removed his cap and bowed. 

All day Thursday he thought it was surely on account of his wickednessthat the wild geese did not care to take him along up to Lapland. And inthe evening, when he heard that Sirle Squirrel's wife had been stolen, and her children were starving to death, he made up his mind to helpthem. And we have already been told how well he succeeded. 

When the boy came into the park on Friday, he heard the bulfinches singin every bush, of how Sirle Squirrel's wife had been carried away fromher children by cruel robbers, and how Nils, the goose boy, had riskedhis life among human beings, and taken the little squirrel children toher. 

"And who is so honoured in Övid Cloister park now, as Thumbietot!" sangthe bullfinch; "he, whom all feared when he was Nils the goose boy?Sirle Squirrel will give him nuts; the poor hares are going to play withhim; the small wild animals will carry him on their backs, and fly awaywith him when Smirre Fox approaches. The titmice are going to warn himagainst the hawk, and the finches and larks will sing of his valour. "

The boy was absolutely certain that both Akka and the wild geese hadheard all this. But still Friday passed and not one word did they sayabout his remaining with them. 

Until Saturday the wild geese fed in the fields around Övid, undisturbedby Smirre Fox. 

But on Saturday morning, when they came out in the meadows, he lay inwait for them, and chased them from one field to another, and they werenot allowed to eat in peace. When Akka understood that he didn't intendto leave them in peace, she came to a decision quickly, raised herselfinto the air and flew with her flock several miles away, over Färs'plains and Linderödsosen's hills. They did not stop before they hadarrived in the district of Vittskövle. 

But at Vittskövle the goosey-gander was stolen, and how it happened hasalready been related. If the boy had not used all his powers to help himhe would never again have been found. 

On Saturday evening, as the boy came back to Vomb Lake with thegoosey-gander, he thought that he had done a good day's work; and hespeculated a good deal on what Akka and the wild geese would say to him. The wild geese were not at all sparing in their praises, but they didnot say the word he was longing to hear. 

Then Sunday came again. A whole week had gone by since the boy had beenbewitched, and he was still just as little. 

But he didn't appear to be giving himself any extra worry on account ofthis thing. On Sunday afternoon he sat huddled together in a big, fluffyosier-bush, down by the lake, and blew on a reed-pipe. All around himthere sat as many finches and bullfinches and starlings as the bushcould well hold--who sang songs which he tried to teach himself to play. But the boy was not at home in this art. He blew so false that thefeathers raised themselves on the little music-masters and they shriekedand fluttered in their despair. The boy laughed so heartily at theirexcitement, that he dropped his pipe. 

He began once again, and that went just as badly. Then all the littlebirds wailed: "To-day you play worse than usual, Thumbietot! You don'ttake one true note! Where are your thoughts, Thumbietot?"

"They are elsewhere, " said the boy--and this was true. He sat there andpondered how long he would be allowed to remain with the wild geese; orif he should be sent home perhaps to-day. 

Finally the boy threw down his pipe and jumped from the bush. He hadseen Akka, and all the wild geese, coming toward him in a long row. Theywalked so uncommonly slow and dignified-like, that the boy immediatelyunderstood that now he should learn what they intended to do with him. 

When they stopped at last, Akka said: "You may well have reason towonder at me, Thumbietot, who have not said thanks to you for saving mefrom Smirre Fox. But I am one of those who would rather give thanks bydeeds than words. I have sent word to the elf that bewitched you. Atfirst he didn't want to hear anything about curing you; but I have sentmessage upon message to him, and told him how well you have conductedyourself among us. He greets you, and says, that as soon as you turnback home, you shall be human again. "

But think of it! Just as happy as the boy had been when the wild geesebegan to speak, just that miserable was he when they had finished. Hedidn't say a word, but turned away and wept. 

"What in all the world is this?" said Akka. "It looks as though you hadexpected more of me than I have offered you. "

But the boy was thinking of the care-free days and the banter; and ofadventure and freedom and travel, high above the earth, that he shouldmiss, and he actually bawled with grief. "I don't want to be human, "said he. "I want to go with you to Lapland. " "I'll tell you something, "said Akka. "That elf is very touchy, and I'm afraid that if you do notaccept his offer now, it will be difficult for you to coax him anothertime. "

It was a strange thing about that boy--as long as he had lived, he hadnever cared for anyone. He had not cared for his father or mother; notfor the school teacher; not for his school-mates; nor for the boys inthe neighbourhood. All that they had wished to have him do--whether ithad been work or play--he had only thought tiresome. Therefore there wasno one whom he missed or longed for. 

The only ones that he had come anywhere near agreeing with, were Osa, the goose girl, and little Mats--a couple of children who had tendedgeese in the fields, like himself. But he didn't care particularly forthem either. No, far from it! "I don't want to be human, " bawled theboy. "I want to go with you to Lapland. That's why I've been good for awhole week!" "I don't want to forbid you to come along with us as far asyou like, " said Akka, "but think first if you wouldn't rather go homeagain. A day may come when you will regret this. "

"No, " said the boy, "that's nothing to regret. I have never been as welloff as here with you. "

"Well then, let it be as you wish, " said Akka. 

"Thanks!" said the boy, and he felt so happy that he had to cry for veryjoy--just as he had cried before from sorrow. 

GLIMMINGE CASTLE

BLACK RATS AND GRAY RATS

In south-eastern Skåne--not far from the sea there is an old castlecalled Glimminge. It is a big and substantial stone house; and can beseen over the plain for miles around. It is not more than four storieshigh; but it is so ponderous that an ordinary farmhouse, which stands onthe same estate, looks like a little children's playhouse in comparison. 

The big stone house has such thick ceilings and partitions that there isscarcely room in its interior for anything but the thick walls. Thestairs are narrow, the entrances small; and the rooms few. That thewalls might retain their strength, there are only the fewest number ofwindows in the upper stories, and none at all are found in the lowerones. In the old war times, the people were just as glad that they couldshut themselves up in a strong and massive house like this, as one isnowadays to be able to creep into furs in a snapping cold winter. Butwhen the time of peace came, they did not care to live in the dark andcold stone halls of the old castle any longer. They have long sincedeserted the big Glimminge castle, and moved into dwelling places wherethe light and air can penetrate. 

At the time when Nils Holgersson wandered around with the wild geese, there were no human beings in Glimminge castle; but for all that, it wasnot without inhabitants. Every summer there lived a stork couple in alarge nest on the roof. In a nest in the attic lived a pair of grayowls; in the secret passages hung bats; in the kitchen oven lived an oldcat; and down in the cellar there were hundreds of old black rats. 

Rats are not held in very high esteem by other animals; but the blackrats at Glimminge castle were an exception. They were always mentionedwith respect, because they had shown great valour in battle with theirenemies; and much endurance under the great misfortunes which hadbefallen their kind. They nominally belong to a rat-folk who, at onetime, had been very numerous and powerful, but who were now dying out. During a long period of time, the black rats owned Skåne and the wholecountry. They were found in every cellar; in every attic; in larders andcowhouses and barns; in breweries and flour-mills; in churches andcastles; in every man-constructed building. But now they were banishedfrom all this--and were almost exterminated. Only in one and another oldand secluded place could one run across a few of them; and nowhere werethey to be found in such large numbers as in Glimminge castle. 

When an animal folk die out, it is generally the human kind who are thecause of it; but that was not the case in this instance. The people hadcertainly struggled with the black rats, but they had not been able todo them any harm worth mentioning. Those who had conquered them were ananimal folk of their own kind, who were called gray rats. 

These gray rats had not lived in the land since time immemorial, likethe black rats, but descended from a couple of poor immigrants wholanded in Malmö from a Libyan sloop about a hundred years ago. They werehomeless, starved-out wretches who stuck close to the harbour, swamamong the piles under the bridges, and ate refuse that was thrown in thewater. They never ventured into the city, which was owned by the blackrats. 

But gradually, as the gray rats increased in number they grew bolder. At first they moved over to some waste places and condemned old houseswhich the black rats had abandoned. They hunted their food in guttersand dirt heaps, and made the most of all the rubbish that the black ratsdid not deign to take care of. They were hardy, contented and fearless;and within a few years they had become so powerful that they undertookto drive the black rats out of Malmö. They took from them attics, cellars and storerooms, starved them out or bit them to death for theywere not at all afraid of fighting. 

When Malmö was captured, they marched forward in small and largecompanies to conquer the whole country. It is almost impossible tocomprehend why the black rats did not muster themselves into a great, united war-expedition to exterminate the gray rats, while these werestill few in numbers. But the black rats were so certain of their powerthat they could not believe it possible for them to lose it. They satstill on their estates, and in the meantime the gray rats took from themfarm after farm, city after city. They were starved out, forced out, rooted out. In Skåne they had not been able to maintain themselves in asingle place except Glimminge castle. 

The old castle had such secure walls and such few rat passages ledthrough these, that the black rats had managed to protect themselves, and to prevent the gray rats from crowding in. Night after night, yearafter year, the struggle had continued between the aggressors and thedefenders; but the black rats had kept faithful watch, and had foughtwith the utmost contempt for death, and, thanks to the fine old house, they had always conquered. 

It will have to be acknowledged that as long as the black rats were inpower they were as much shunned by all other living creatures as thegray rats are in our day--and for just cause; they had thrown themselvesupon poor, fettered prisoners, and tortured them; they had ravished thedead; they had stolen the last turnip from the cellars of the poor;bitten off the feet of sleeping geese; robbed eggs and chicks from thehens; and committed a thousand depredations. But since they had come togrief, all this seemed to have been forgotten; and no one could help butmarvel at the last of a race that had held out so long against itsenemies. 

The gray rats that lived in the courtyard at Glimminge and in thevicinity, kept up a continuous warfare and tried to watch out for everypossible chance to capture the castle. One would fancy that they shouldhave allowed the little company of black rats to occupy Glimminge castlein peace, since they themselves had acquired all the rest of thecountry; but you may be sure this thought never occurred to them. Theywere wont to say that it was a point of honour with them to conquer theblack rats at some time or other. But those who were acquainted with thegray rats must have known that it was because the human kind usedGlimminge castle as a grain store-house that the gray ones could notrest before they had taken possession of the place. 

THE STORK

_Monday, March twenty-eighth_. 

Early one morning the wild geese who stood and slept on the ice in VombLake were awakened by long calls from the air. "Trirop, Trirop!" itsounded, "Trianut, the crane, sends greetings to Akka, the wild goose, and her flock. To-morrow will be the day of the great crane dance onKullaberg. "

Akka raised her head and answered at once: "Greetings and thanks!Greetings and thanks!"

With that, the cranes flew farther; and the wild geese heard them for along while--where they travelled and called out over every field, andevery wooded hill: "Trianut sends greetings. To-morrow will be the dayof the great crane dance on Kullaberg. "

The wild geese were very happy over this invitation. "You're in luck, "they said to the white goosey-gander, "to be permitted to attend thegreat crane dance on Kullaberg!" "Is it then so remarkable to see cranesdance?" asked the goosey-gander. "It is something that you have nevereven dreamed about!" replied the wild geese. 

"Now we must think out what we shall do with Thumbietot to-morrow--sothat no harm can come to him, while we run over to Kullaberg, " saidAkka. "Thumbietot shall not be left alone!" said the goosey-gander. "Ifthe cranes won't let him see their dance, then I'll stay with him. "

"No human being has ever been permitted to attend the Animal's Congress, at Kullaberg, " said Akka, "and I shouldn't dare to take Thumbietotalong. But We'll discuss this more at length later in the day. Now wemust first and foremost think about getting something to eat. "

With that Akka gave the signal to adjourn. On this day she also soughther feeding-place a good distance away, on Smirre Fox's account, and shedidn't alight until she came to the swampy meadows a little south ofGlimminge castle. 

All that day the boy sat on the shores of a little pond, and blew onreed-pipes. He was out of sorts because he shouldn't see the cranedance, and he just couldn't say a word, either to the goosey-gander, orto any of the others. 

It was pretty hard that Akka should still doubt him. When a boy hadgiven up being human, just to travel around with a few wild geese, theysurely ought to understand that he had no desire to betray them. Then, too, they ought to understand that when he had renounced so much tofollow them, it was their duty to let him see all the wonders they couldshow him. 

"I'll have to speak my mind right out to them, " thought he. But hourafter hour passed, still he hadn't come round to it. It may soundremarkable--but the boy had actually acquired a kind of respect for theold leader-goose. He felt that it was not easy to pit his will againsthers. 

On one side of the swampy meadow, where the wild geese fed, there was abroad stone hedge. Toward evening when the boy finally raised his head, to speak to Akka, his glance happened to rest on this hedge. He uttereda little cry of surprise, and all the wild geese instantly looked up, and stared in the same direction. At first, both the geese and the boythought that all the round, gray stones in the hedge had acquired legs, and were starting on a run; but soon they saw that it was a company ofrats who ran over it. They moved very rapidly, and ran forward, tightlypacked, line upon line, and were so numerous that, for some time, theycovered the entire stone hedge. 

The boy had been afraid of rats, even when he was a big, strong humanbeing. Then what must his feelings be now, when he was so tiny that twoor three of them could overpower him? One shudder after anothertravelled down his spinal column as he stood and stared at them. 

But strangely enough, the wild geese seemed to feel the same aversiontoward the rats that he did. They did not speak to them; and when theywere gone, they shook themselves as if their feathers had beenmud-spattered. 

"Such a lot of gray rats abroad!" said Iksi from Vassipaure. "That's nota good omen. "

The boy intended to take advantage of this opportunity to say to Akkathat he thought she ought to let him go with them to Kullaberg, but hewas prevented anew, for all of a sudden a big bird came down in themidst of the geese. 

One could believe, when one looked at this bird, that he had borrowedbody, neck and head from a little white goose. But in addition to this, he had procured for himself large black wings, long red legs, and athick bill, which was too large for the little head, and weighed it downuntil it gave him a sad and worried look. 

Akka at once straightened out the folds of her wings, and curtsied manytimes as she approached the stork. She wasn't specially surprised to seehim in Skåne so early in the spring, because she knew that the malestorks are in the habit of coming in good season to take a look at thenest, and see that it hasn't been damaged during the winter, before thefemale storks go to the trouble of flying over the East sea. But shewondered very much what it might signify that he sought her out, sincestorks prefer to associate with members of their own family. 

"I can hardly believe that there is anything wrong with your house, HerrErmenrich, " said Akka. 

It was apparent now that it is true what they say: a stork can seldomopen his bill without complaining. But what made the thing he said soundeven more doleful was that it was difficult for him to speak out. Hestood for a long time and only clattered with his bill; afterward hespoke in a hoarse and feeble voice. He complained about everything: thenest--which was situated at the very top of the roof-tree at Glimmingecastle--had been totally destroyed by winter storms; and no food couldhe get any more in Skåne. The people of Skåne were appropriating all hispossessions. They dug out his marshes and laid waste his swamps. Heintended to move away from this country, and never return to it again. 

While the stork grumbled, Akka, the wild goose who had neither home norprotection, could not help thinking to herself: "If I had things ascomfortable as you have, Herr Ermenrich, I should be above complaining. You have remained a free and wild bird; and still you stand so well withhuman beings that no one will fire a shot at you, or steal an egg fromyour nest. " But all this she kept to herself. To the stork she onlyremarked, that she couldn't believe he would be willing to move from ahouse where storks had resided ever since it was built. 

Then the stork suddenly asked the geese if they had seen the gray ratswho were marching toward Glimminge castle. When Akka replied that shehad seen the horrid creatures, he began to tell her about the braveblack rats who, for years, had defended the castle. "But this nightGlimminge castle will fall into the gray rats' power, " sighed the stork. 

"And why just this night, Herr Ermenrich?" asked Akka. 

"Well, because nearly all the black rats went over to Kullaberg lastnight, " said the stork, "since they had counted on all the rest of theanimals also hurrying there. But you see that the gray rats have stayedat home; and now they are mustering to storm the castle to-night, whenit will be defended by only a few old creatures who are too feeble to goover to Kullaberg. They'll probably accomplish their purpose. But I havelived here in harmony with the black rats for so many years, that itdoes not please me to live in a place inhabited by their enemies. "

Akka understood now that the stork had become so enraged over the grayrats' mode of action, that he had sought her out as an excuse tocomplain about them. But after the manner of storks, he certainly haddone nothing to avert the disaster. "Have you sent word to the blackrats, Herr Ermenrich?" she asked. "No, " replied the stork, "thatwouldn't be of any use. Before they can get back, the castle will betaken. " "You mustn't be so sure of that, Herr Ermenrich, " said Akka. "Iknow an old wild goose, I do, who will gladly prevent outrages of thiskind. "

When Akka said this, the stork raised his head and stared at her. And itwas not surprising, for Akka had neither claws nor bill that were fitfor fighting; and, in the bargain, she was a day bird, and as soon as itgrew dark she fell helplessly asleep, while the rats did their fightingat night. 

But Akka had evidently made up her mind to help the black rats. Shecalled Iksi from Vassijaure, and ordered him to take the wild geese overto Vonib Lake; and when the geese made excuses, she saidauthoritatively: "I believe it will be best for us all that you obey me. I must fly over to the big stone house, and if you follow me, the peopleon the place will be sure to see us, and shoot us down. The only onethat I want to take with me on this trip is Thumbietot. He can be ofgreat service to me because he has good eyes, and can keep awake atnight. "

The boy was in his most contrary mood that day. And when he heard whatAkka said, he raised himself to his full height and stepped forward, hishands behind him and his nose in the air, and he intended to say thathe, most assuredly, did not wish to take a hand in the fight with grayrats. She might look around for assistance elsewhere. 

But the instant the boy was seen, the stork began to move. He had stoodbefore, as storks generally stand, with head bent downward and the billpressed against the neck. But now a gurgle was heard deep down in hiswindpipe; as though he would have laughed. Quick as a flash, he loweredthe bill, grabbed the boy, and tossed him a couple of metres in theair. This feat he performed seven times, while the boy shrieked and thegeese shouted: "What are you trying to do, Herr Ermenrich? That's not afrog. That's a human being, Herr Ermenrich. "

Finally the stork put the boy down entirely unhurt. Thereupon he said toAkka, "I'll fly back to Glimminge castle now, mother Akka. All who livethere were very much worried when I left. You may be sure they'll bevery glad when I tell them that Akka, the wild goose, and Thumbietot, the human elf, are on their way to rescue them. " With that the storkcraned his neck, raised his wings, and darted off like an arrow when itleaves a well-drawn bow. Akka understood that he was making fun of her, but she didn't let it bother her. She waited until the boy had found hiswooden shoes, which the stork had shaken off; then she put him on herback and followed the stork. On his own account, the boy made noobjection, and said not a word about not wanting to go along. He hadbecome so furious with the stork, that he actually sat and puffed. Thatlong, red-legged thing believed he was of no account just because he waslittle; but he would show him what kind of a man Nils Holgersson fromWest Vemminghög was. 

A couple of moments later Akka stood in the storks' nest. It had a wheelfor foundation, and over this lay several grass-mats, and some twigs. The nest was so old that many shrubs and plants had taken root up there;and when the mother stork sat on her eggs in the round hole in themiddle of the nest, she not only had the beautiful outlook over a goodlyportion of Skåne to enjoy, but she had also the wild brier-blossoms andhouse-leeks to look upon. 

Both Akka and the boy saw immediately that something was going on herewhich turned upside down the most regular order. On the edge of thestork-nest sat two gray owls, an old, gray-streaked cat, and a dozenold, decrepit rats with protruding teeth and watery eyes. They were notexactly the sort of animals one usually finds living peaceably together. 

Not one of them turned around to look at Akka, or to bid her welcome. They thought of nothing except to sit and stare at some long, graylines, which came into sight here and there--on the winter-nakedmeadows. 

All the black rats were silent. One could see that they were in deepdespair, and probably knew that they could neither defend their ownlives nor the castle. The two owls sat and rolled their big eyes, andtwisted their great, encircling eyebrows, and talked in hollow, ghost-like voices, about the awful cruelty of the gray rats, and thatthey would have to move away from their nest, because they had heard itsaid of them that they spared neither eggs nor baby birds. The oldgray-streaked cat was positive that the gray rats would bite him todeath, since they were coming into the castle in such great numbers, andhe scolded the black rats incessantly. "How could you be so idiotic asto let your best fighters go away?" said he. "How could you trust thegray rats? It is absolutely unpardonable!"

The twelve black rats did not say a word. But the stork, despite hismisery, could not refrain from teasing the cat. "Don't worry so, Monsiehouse-cat!" said he. "Can't you see that mother Akka and Thumbietot havecome to save the castle? You can be certain that they'll succeed. Now Imust stand up to sleep--and I do so with the utmost calm. To-morrow, when I awaken, there won't be a single gray rat in Glimminge castle. "

The boy winked at Akka, and made a sign--as the stork stood upon thevery edge of the nest, with one leg drawn up, to sleep--that he wantedto push him down to the ground; but Akka restrained him. She did notseem to be the least bit angry. Instead, she said in a confident tone ofvoice: "It would be pretty poor business if one who is as old as I amcould not manage to get out of worse difficulties than this. If only Mr. And Mrs. Owl, who can stay awake all night, will fly off with a coupleof messages for me, I think that all will go well. "

Both owls were willing. Then Akka bade the gentleman owl that he shouldgo and seek the black rats who had gone off, and counsel them to hurryhome immediately. The lady owl she sent to Flammea, the steeple-owl, who lived in Lund cathedral, with a commission which was so secret thatAkka only dared to confide it to her in a whisper. 

THE RAT CHARMER

It was getting on toward midnight when the gray rats after a diligentsearch succeeded in finding an open air-hole in the cellar. This waspretty high upon the wall; but the rats got up on one another'sshoulders, and it wasn't long before the most daring among them sat inthe air-hole, ready to force its way into Glimminge castle, outsidewhose walls so many of its forebears had fallen. 

The gray rat sat still for a moment in the hole, and waited for anattack from within. The leader of the defenders was certainly away, butshe assumed that the black rats who were still in the castle wouldn'tsurrender without a struggle. With thumping heart she listened for theslightest sound, but everything remained quiet. Then the leader of thegray rats plucked up courage and jumped down in the coal-black cellar. 

One after another of the gray rats followed the leader. They all keptvery quiet; and all expected to be ambushed by the black rats. Not untilso many of them had crowded into the cellar that the floor couldn't holdany more, did they venture farther. 

Although they had never before been inside the building, they had nodifficulty in finding their way. They soon found the passages in thewalls which the black rats had used to get to the upper floors. Beforethey began to clamber up these narrow and steep steps, they listenedagain with great attention. They felt more frightened because the blackrats held themselves aloof in this way, than if they had met them inopen battle. They could hardly believe their luck when they reached thefirst story without any mishaps. 

Immediately upon their entrance the gray rats caught the scent of thegrain, which was stored in great bins on the floor. But it was not asyet time for them to begin to enjoy their conquest. They searched first, with the utmost caution, through the sombre, empty rooms. They ran up inthe fireplace, which stood on the floor in the old castle kitchen, andthey almost tumbled into the well, in the inner room. Not one of thenarrow peep-holes did they leave uninspected, but they found no blackrats. When this floor was wholly in their possession, they began, withthe same caution, to acquire the next. Then they had to venture on abold and dangerous climb through the walls, while, with breathlessanxiety, they awaited an assault from the enemy. And although they weretempted by the most delicious odour from the grain bins, they forcedthemselves most systematically to inspect the old-time warriors'pillar-propped kitchen; their stone table, and fireplace; the deepwindow-niches, and the hole in the floor--which in olden time had beenopened to pour down boiling pitch on the intruding enemy. 

All this time the black rats were invisible. The gray ones groped theirway to the third story, and into the lord of the castle's great banquethall--which stood there cold and empty, like all the other rooms in theold house. They even groped their way to the upper story, which had butone big, barren room. The only place they did not think of exploring wasthe big stork-nest on the roof--where, just at this time, the lady owlawakened Akka, and informed her that Flammea, the steeple owl, hadgranted her request, and had sent her the thing she wished for. 

Since the gray rats had so conscientiously inspected the entire castle, they felt at ease. They took it for granted that the black rats hadflown, and didn't intend to offer any resistance; and, with lighthearts, they ran up into the grain bins. 

But the gray rats had hardly swallowed the first wheat-grains, beforethe sound of a little shrill pipe was heard from the yard. The gray ratsraised their heads, listened anxiously, ran a few steps as if theyintended to leave the bin, then they turned back and began to eat oncemore. 

Again the pipe sounded a sharp and piercing note--and now somethingwonderful happened. One rat, two rats--yes, a whole lot of rats left thegrain, jumped from the bins and hurried down cellar by the shortest cut, to get out of the house. Still there were many gray rats left. Thesethought of all the toil and trouble it had cost them to win Glimmingecastle, and they did not want to leave it. But again they caught thetones from the pipe, and had to follow them. With wild excitement theyrushed up from the bins, slid down through the narrow holes in thewalls, and tumbled over each other in their eagerness to get out. 

In the middle of the courtyard stood a tiny creature, who blew upon apipe. All round him he had a whole circle of rats who listened to him, astonished and fascinated; and every moment brought more. Once he tookthe pipe from his lips--only for a second--put his thumb to his nose andwiggled his fingers at the gray rats; and then it looked as if theywanted to throw themselves on him and bite him to death; but as soon ashe blew on his pipe they were in his power. 

When the tiny creature had played all the gray rats out of Glimmingecastle, he began to wander slowly from the courtyard out on the highway;and all the gray rats followed him, because the tones from that pipesounded so sweet to their ears that they could not resist them. 

The tiny creature walked before them and charmed them along with him, on the road to Vallby. He led them into all sorts of crooks and turnsand bends--on through hedges and down into ditches--and wherever he wentthey had to follow. He blew continuously on his pipe, which appeared tobe made from an animal's horn, although the horn was so small that, inour days, there were no animals from whose foreheads it could have beenbroken. No one knew, either, who had made it. Flammea, the steeple-owl, had found it in a niche, in Lund cathedral. She had shown it to Bataki, the raven; and they had both figured out that this was the kind of hornthat was used in former times by those who wished to gain power overrats and mice. But the raven was Akka's friend; and it was from him shehad learned that Flammea owned a treasure like this. And it was truethat the rats could not resist the pipe. The boy walked before them andplayed as long as the starlight lasted--and all the while they followedhim. He played at daybreak; he played at sunrise; and the whole time theentire procession of gray rats followed him, and were enticed fartherand farther away from the big grain loft at Glimminge castle. 

THE GREAT CRANE DANCE ON KULLABERG

_Tuesday, March twenty-ninth_. 

Although there are many magnificent buildings in Skåne, it must beacknowledged that there's not one among them that has such pretty wallsas old Kullaberg. 

Kullaberg is low and rather long. It is not by any means a big orimposing mountain. On its broad summit you'll find woods and grainfields, and one and another heather-heath. Here and there, roundheather-knolls and barren cliffs rise up. It is not especially pretty upthere. It looks a good deal like all the other upland places in Skåne. 

He who walks along the path which runs across the middle of themountain, can't help feeling a little disappointed. Then he happens, perhaps, to turn away from the path, and wanders off toward themountain's sides and looks down over the bluffs; and then, all at once, he will discover so much that is worth seeing, he hardly knows how he'llfind time to take in the whole of it. For it happens that Kullabergdoes not stand on the land, with plains and valleys around it, likeother mountains; but it has plunged into the sea, as far out as it couldget. Not even the tiniest strip of land lies below the mountain toprotect it against the breakers; but these reach all the way up to themountain walls, and can polish and mould them to suit themselves. Thisis why the walls stand there as richly ornamented as the sea and itshelpmeet, the wind, have been able to effect. You'll find steep ravinesthat are deeply chiselled in the mountain's sides; and black crags thathave become smooth and shiny under the constant lashing of the winds. There are solitary rock-columns that spring right up out of the water, and dark grottoes with narrow entrances. There are barren, perpendicularprecipices, and soft, leaf-clad inclines. There are small points, andsmall inlets, and small rolling stones that are rattlingly washed up anddown with every dashing breaker. There are majestic cliff-arches thatproject over the water. There are sharp stones that are constantlysprayed by a white foam; and others that mirror themselves inunchangeable dark-green still water. There are giant troll-cavernsshaped in the rock, and great crevices that lure the wanderer to ventureinto the mountain's depths--all the way to Kullman's Hollow. 

And over and around all these cliffs and rocks crawl entangled tendrilsand weeds. Trees grow there also, but the wind's power is so great thattrees have to transform themselves into clinging vines, that they mayget a firm hold on the steep precipices. The oaks creep along on theground, while their foliage hangs over them like a low ceiling; andlong-limbed beeches stand in the ravines like great leaf-tents. 

These remarkable mountain walls, with the blue sea beneath them, and theclear penetrating air above them, is what makes Kullaberg so dear to thepeople that great crowds of them haunt the place every day as long asthe summer lasts. But it is more difficult to tell what it is that makesit so attractive to animals, that every year they gather there for a bigplay-meeting. This is a custom that has been observed since timeimmemorial; and one should have been there when the first sea-wave wasdashed into foam against the shore, to be able to explain just whyKullaberg was chosen as a rendezvous, in preference to all other places. 

When the meeting is to take place, the stags and roebucks and hares andfoxes and all the other four-footers make the journey to Kullaberg thenight before, so as not to be observed by the human beings. Just beforesunrise they all march up to the playground, which is a heather-heath onthe left side of the road, and not very far from the mountain's mostextreme point. The playground is inclosed on all sides by round knolls, which conceal it from any and all who do not happen to come right uponit. And in the month of March it is not at all likely that anypedestrians will stray off up there. All the strangers who usuallystroll around on the rocks, and clamber up the mountain's sides the fallstorms have driven away these many months past. And the lighthousekeeper out there on the point; the old fru on the mountain farm, and themountain peasant and his house-folk go their accustomed ways, and do notrun about on the desolate heather-fields. 

When the four-footers have arrived on the playground, they take theirplaces on the round knolls. Each animal family keeps to itself, althoughit is understood that, on a day like this, universal peace reigns, andno one need fear attack. On this day a little hare might wander over tothe foxes' hill, without losing as much as one of his long ears. Butstill the animals arrange themselves into separate groups. This is anold custom. 

After they have all taken their places, they begin to look around forthe birds. It is always beautiful weather on this day. The cranes aregood weather prophets, and would not call the animals together if theyexpected rain. Although the air is clear, and nothing obstructs thevision, the four-footers see no birds. This is strange. The sun standshigh in the heavens, and the birds should already be on their way. 

But what the animals, on the other hand, observe, is one and anotherlittle dark cloud that comes slowly forward over the plain. And look!one of these clouds comes gradually along the coast of Öresund, and uptoward Kullaberg. When the cloud has come just over the playground itstops, and, simultaneously, the entire cloud begins to ring and chirp, as if it was made of nothing but tone. It rises and sinks, rises andsinks, but all the while it rings and chirps. At last the whole cloudfalls down over a knoll--all at once--and the next instant the knoll isentirely covered with gray larks, pretty red-white-gray bulfinches, speckled starlings and greenish-yellow titmice. 

Soon after that, another cloud comes over the plain. This stops overevery bit of land; over peasant cottage and palace; over towns andcities; over farms and railway stations; over fishing hamlets and sugarrefineries. Every time it stops, it draws to itself a little whirlingcolumn of gray dust-grains from the ground. In this way it grows andgrows. And at last, when it is all gathered up and heads for Kullaberg, it is no longer a cloud but a whole mist, which is so big that it throwsa shadow on the ground all the way from Höganäs to Mölle. When it stopsover the playground it hides the sun; and for a long while it had torain gray sparrows on one of the knolls, before those who had beenflying in the innermost part of the mist could again catch a glimpse ofthe daylight. 

But still the biggest of these bird-clouds is the one which now appears. This has been formed of birds who have travelled from every direction tojoin it. It is dark bluish-gray, and no sun-ray can penetrate it. It isfull of the ghastliest noises, the most frightful shrieks, the grimmestlaughter, and most ill-luck-boding croaking! All on the playground areglad when it finally resolves itself into a storm of fluttering andcroaking: of crows and jackdaws and rooks and ravens. 

Thereupon not only clouds are seen in the heavens, but a variety ofstripes and figures. Then straight, dotted lines appear in the East andNortheast. These are forest-birds from Göinge districts: black grouseand wood grouse who come flying in long lines a couple of metres apart. Swimming-birds that live around Måkläppen, just out of Falsterbo, nowcome floating over Öresund in many extraordinary figures: in triangularand long curves; in sharp hooks and semicircles. 

To the great reunion held the year that Nils Holgersson travelledaround with the wild geese, came Akka and her flock--later than all theothers. And that was not to be wondered at, for Akka had to fly over thewhole of Skåne to get to Kullaberg. Beside, as soon as she awoke, shehad been obliged to go out and hunt for Thumbietot, who, for many hours, had gone and played to the gray rats, and lured them far away fromGlimminge castle. Mr. Owl had returned with the news that the black ratswould be at home immediately after sunrise; and there was no longer anydanger in letting the steeple-owl's pipe be hushed, and to give the grayrats the liberty to go where they pleased. 

But it was not Akka who discovered the boy where he walked with his longfollowing, and quickly sank down over him and caught him with the billand swung into the air with him, but it was Herr Ermenrich, the stork!For Herr Ermenrich had also gone out to look for him; and after he hadborne him up to the stork-nest, he begged his forgiveness for havingtreated him with disrespect the evening before. 

This pleased the boy immensely, and the stork and he became goodfriends. Akka, too, showed him that she felt very kindly toward him; shestroked her old head several times against his arms, and commended himbecause he had helped those who were in trouble. 

But this one must say to the boy's credit: that he did not want toaccept praise which he had not earned. "No, mother Akka, " he said, "youmustn't think that I lured the gray rats away to help the black ones. Ionly wanted to show Herr Ermenrich that I was of some consequence. "

He had hardly said this before Akka turned to the stork and asked if hethought it was advisable to take Thumbietot along to Kullaberg. "I mean, that we can rely on him as upon ourselves, " said she. The stork at onceadvised, most enthusiastically, that Thumbietot be permitted to comealong. "Certainly you shall take Thumbietot along to Kullaberg, motherAkka, " said he. "It is fortunate for us that we can repay him for allthat he has endured this night for our sakes. And since it still grievesme to think that I did not conduct myself in a becoming manner towardhim the other evening, it is I who will carry him on my back--all theway to the meeting place. "

There isn't much that tastes better than to receive praise from thosewho are themselves wise and capable; and the boy had certainly neverfelt so happy as he did when the wild goose and the stork talked abouthim in this way. 

Thus the boy made the trip to Kullaberg, riding stork-back. Although heknew that this was a great honour, it caused him much anxiety, for HerrErmenrich was a master flyer, and started off at a very different pacefrom the wild geese. While Akka flew her straight way with evenwing-strokes, the stork amused himself by performing a lot of flyingtricks. Now he lay still in an immeasurable height, and floated in theair without moving his wings, now he flung himself downward with suchsudden haste that it seemed as though he would fall to the ground, helpless as a stone; now he had lots of fun flying all around Akka, ingreat and small circles, like a whirlwind. The boy had never been on aride of this sort before; and although he sat there all the while interror, he had to acknowledge to himself that he had never before knownwhat a good flight meant. 

Only a single pause was made during the journey, and that was at VombLake when Akka joined her travelling companions, and called to them thatthe gray rats had been vanquished. After that, the travellers flewstraight to Kullaberg. 

There they descended to the knoll reserved for the wild geese; and asthe boy let his glance wander from knoll to knoll, he saw on one of themthe many-pointed antlers of the stags; and on another, the gray herons'neck-crests. One knoll was red with foxes, one was gray with rats; onewas covered with black ravens who shrieked continually, one with larkswho simply couldn't keep still, but kept on throwing themselves in theair and singing for very joy. 

Just as it has ever been the custom on Kullaberg, it was the crows whobegan the day's games and frolics with their flying-dance. They dividedthemselves into two flocks, that flew toward each other, met, turned, and began all over again. This dance had many repetitions, and appearedto the spectators who were not familiar with the dance as altogether toomonotonous. The crows were very proud of their dance, but all the otherswere glad when it was over. It appeared to the animals about as gloomyand meaningless as the winter-storms' play with the snow-flakes. Itdepressed them to watch it, and they waited eagerly for something thatshould give them a little pleasure. 

They did not have to wait in vain, either; for as soon as the crows hadfinished, the hares came running. They dashed forward in a long row, without any apparent order. In some of the figures, one single harecame; in others, they ran three and four abreast. They had all raisedthemselves on two legs, and they rushed forward with such rapidity thattheir long ears swayed in all directions. As they ran, they spun round, made high leaps and beat their forepaws against their hind-paws so thatthey rattled. Some performed a long succession of somersaults, othersdoubled themselves up and rolled over like wheels; one stood on one legand swung round; one walked upon his forepaws. There was no regulationwhatever, but there was much that was droll in the hares' play; and themany animals who stood and watched them began to breathe faster. Now itwas spring; joy and rapture were advancing. Winter was over; summer wascoming. Soon it was only play to live. 

When the hares had romped themselves out, it was the great forest birds'turn to perform. Hundreds of wood-grouse in shining dark-brown array, and with bright red eyebrows, flung themselves up into a great oak thatstood in the centre of the playground. The one who sat upon the topmostbranch fluffed up his feathers, lowered his wings, and lifted his tailso that the white covert-feathers were seen. Thereupon he stretched hisneck and sent forth a couple of deep notes from his thick throat. "Tjack, tjack, tjack, " it sounded. More than this he could not utter. Itonly gurgled a few times way down in the throat. Then he closed his eyesand whispered: "Sis, sis, sis. Hear how pretty! Sis, sis, sis. " At thesame time he fell into such an ecstasy that he no longer knew what wasgoing on around him. 

While the first wood grouse was sissing, the three nearest--underhim--began to sing; and before they had finished their song, the ten whosat lower down joined in; and thus it continued from branch to branch, until the entire hundred grouse sang and gurgled and sissed. They allfell into the same ecstasy during their song, and this affected theother animals like a contagious transport. Lately the blood had flowedlightly and agreeably; now it began to grow heavy and hot. "Yes, this issurely spring, " thought all the animal folk. "Winter chill has vanished. The fires of spring burn over the earth. "

When the black grouse saw that the brown grouse were having suchsuccess, they could no longer keep quiet. As there was no tree for themto light on, they rushed down on the playground, where the heather stoodso high that only their beautifully turned tail-feathers and theirthick bills were visible--and they began to sing: "Orr, orr, orr. "

Just as the black grouse began to compete with the brown grouse, something unprecedented happened. While all the animals thought ofnothing but the grouse-game, a fox stole slowly over to the wild geese'sknoll. He glided very cautiously, and came way up on the knoll beforeanyone noticed him. Suddenly a goose caught sight of him; and as shecould not believe that a fox had sneaked in among the geese for any goodpurpose, she began to cry: "Have a care, wild geese! Have a care!" Thefox struck her across the throat--mostly, perhaps, because he wanted tomake her keep quiet--but the wild geese had already heard the cry andthey all raised themselves in the air. And when they had flown up, theanimals saw Smirre Fox standing on the wild geese's knoll, with a deadgoose in his mouth. 

But because he had in this way broken the play-day's peace, such apunishment was meted out to Smirre Fox that, for the rest of his days, he must regret he had not been able to control his thirst for revenge, but had attempted to approach Akka and her flock in this manner. 

He was immediately surrounded by a crowd of foxes, and doomed inaccordance with an old custom, which demands that whosoever disturbs thepeace on the great play-day, must go into exile. Not a fox wished tolighten the sentence, since they all knew that the instant theyattempted anything of the sort, they would be driven from theplayground, and would nevermore be permitted to enter it. Banishment waspronounced upon Smirre without opposition. He was forbidden to remain inSkåne. He was banished from wife and kindred; from hunting grounds, home, resting places and retreats, which he had hitherto owned; and hemust tempt fortune in foreign lands. So that all foxes in Skåne shouldknow that Smirre was outlawed in the district, the oldest of the foxesbit off his right earlap. As soon as this was done, all the young foxesbegan to yowl from blood-thirst, and threw themselves on Smirre. For himthere was no alternative except to take flight; and with all the youngfoxes in hot pursuit, he rushed away from Kullaberg. 

All this happened while black grouse and brown grouse were going on withtheir games. But these birds lose themselves so completely in theirsong, that they neither hear nor see. Nor had they permitted themselvesto be disturbed. 

The forest birds' contest was barely over, before the stags fromHäckeberga came forward to show their wrestling game. There were severalpairs of stags who fought at the same time. They rushed at each otherwith tremendous force, struck their antlers dashingly together, so thattheir points were entangled; and tried to force each other backward. Theheather-heaths were torn up beneath their hoofs; the breath came likesmoke from their nostrils; out of their throats strained hideousbellowings, and the froth oozed down on their shoulders. 

On the knolls round about there was breathless silence while the skilledstag-wrestlers clinched. In all the animals new emotions were awakened. Each and all felt courageous and, strong; enlivened by returning powers;born again with the spring; sprightly, and ready for all kinds ofadventures. They felt no enmity toward each other, although, everywhere, wings were lifted, neck-feathers raised and claws sharpened. If thestags from Häckeberga had continued another instant, a wild strugglewould have arisen on the knolls, for all had been gripped with a burningdesire to show that they too were full of life because the winter'simpotence was over and strength surged through their bodies. 

But the stags stopped wrestling just at the right moment, and instantlya whisper went from knoll to knoll: "The cranes are coming!"

And then came the gray, dusk-clad birds with plumes in their wings, andred feather-ornaments on their necks. The big birds with their talllegs, their slender throats, their small heads, came gliding down theknoll with an abandon that was full of mystery. As they glided forwardthey swung round--half flying, half dancing. With wings gracefullylifted, they moved with an inconceivable rapidity. There was somethingmarvellous and strange about their dance. It was as though gray shadowshad played a game which the eye could scarcely follow. It was as ifthey had learned it from the mists that hover over desolate morasses. There was witchcraft in it. All those who had never before been onKullaberg understood why the whole meeting took its name from thecrane's dance. There was wildness in it; but yet the feeling which itawakened was a delicious longing. No one thought any more aboutstruggling. Instead, both the winged and those who had no wings, allwanted to raise themselves eternally, lift themselves above the clouds, seek that which was hidden beyond them, leave the oppressive body thatdragged them down to earth and soar away toward the infinite. 

Such longing after the unattainable, after the hidden mysteries back ofthis life, the animals felt only once a year; and this was on the daywhen they beheld the great crane dance. 

IN RAINY WEATHER

_Wednesday, March thirtieth_. 

It was the first rainy day of the trip. As long as the wild geese hadremained in the vicinity of Vomb Lake, they had had beautiful weather;but on the day when they set out to travel farther north, it began torain, and for several hours the boy had to sit on the goose-back, soaking wet, and shivering with the cold. 

In the morning when they started, it had been clear and mild. The wildgeese had flown high up in the air--evenly, and without haste--with Akkaat the head maintaining strict discipline, and the rest in two obliquelines back of her. They had not taken the time to shout any wittysarcasms to the animals on the ground; but, as it was simply impossiblefor them to keep perfectly silent, they sang out continually--in rhythmwith the wing-strokes--their usual coaxing call: "Where are you? Heream I. Where are you? Here am I. "

They all took part in this persistent calling, and only stopped, now andthen, to show the goosey-gander the landmarks they were travelling over. The places on this route included Linderödsosen's dry hills, Ovesholm'smanor, Christianstad's church steeple, Bäckaskog's royal castle on thenarrow isthmus between Oppmann's lake and Ivö's lake, Ryss mountain'ssteep precipice. 

It had been a monotonous trip, and when the rain-clouds made theirappearance the boy thought it was a real diversion. In the old days, when he had only seen a rain-cloud from below, he had imagined that theywere gray and disagreeable; but it was a very different thing to be upamongst them. Now he saw distinctly that the clouds were enormous carts, which drove through the heavens with sky-high loads. Some of them werepiled up with huge, gray sacks, some with barrels; some were so largethat they could hold a whole lake; and a few were filled with bigutensils and bottles which were piled up to an immense height. And whenso many of them had driven forward that they filled the whole sky, itappeared as though someone had given a signal, for all at once, watercommenced to pour down over the earth, from utensils, barrels, bottlesand sacks. 

Just as the first spring-showers pattered against the ground, therearose such shouts of joy from all the small birds in groves andpastures, that the whole air rang with them and the boy leaped highwhere he sat. "Now we'll have rain. Rain gives us spring; spring givesus flowers and green leaves; green leaves and flowers give us worms andinsects; worms and insects give us food; and plentiful and good food isthe best thing there is, " sang the birds. 

The wild geese, too, were glad of the rain which came to awaken thegrowing things from their long sleep, and to drive holes in theice-roofs on the lakes. They were not able to keep up that seriousnessany longer, but began to send merry calls over the neighbourhood. 

When they flew over the big potato patches, which are so plentiful inthe country around Christianstad--and which still lay bare andblack--they screamed: "Wake up and be useful! Here comes something thatwill awaken you. You have idled long enough now. "

When they saw people who hurried to get out of the rain, they reprovedthem saying: "What are you in such a hurry about? Can't you see thatit's raining rye-loaves and cookies?"

It was a big, thick mist that moved northward briskly, and followedclose upon the geese. They seemed to think that they dragged the mistalong with them; and, just now, when they saw great orchards beneaththem, they called out proudly: "Here we come with anemones; here we comewith roses; here we come with apple blossoms and cherry buds; here wecome with peas and beans and turnips and cabbages. He who wills can takethem. He who wills can take them. "

Thus it had sounded while the first showers fell, and when all werestill glad of the rain. But when it continued to fall the wholeafternoon, the wild geese grew impatient, and cried to the thirstyforests around Ivös lake: "Haven't you got enough yet? Haven't you gotenough yet?"

The heavens were growing grayer and grayer and the sun hid itself sowell that one couldn't imagine where it was. The rain fell faster andfaster, and beat harder and harder against the wings, as it tried tofind its way between the oily outside feathers, into their skins. Theearth was hidden by fogs; lakes, mountains, and woods floated togetherin an indistinct maze, and the landmarks could not be distinguished. Theflight became slower and slower; the joyful cries were hushed; and theboy felt the cold more and more keenly. 

But still he had kept up his courage as long as he had ridden throughthe air. And in the afternoon, when they had lighted under a littlestunted pine, in the middle of a large morass, where all was wet, andall was cold; where some knolls were covered with snow, and others stoodup naked in a puddle of half-melted ice-water, even then, he had notfelt discouraged, but ran about in fine spirits, and hunted forcranberries and frozen whortleberries. But then came evening, anddarkness sank down on them so close, that not even such eyes as theboy's could see through it; and all the wilderness became so strangelygrim and awful. The boy lay tucked in under the goosey-gander's wing, but could not sleep because he was cold and wet. He heard such a lot ofrustling and rattling and stealthy steps and menacing voices, that hewas terror-stricken and didn't know where he should go. He must gosomewhere, where there was light and heat, if he wasn't going to beentirely scared to death. 

"If I should venture where there are human beings, just for this night?"thought the boy. "Only so I could sit by a fire for a moment, and get alittle food. I could go back to the wild geese before sunrise. "

He crept from under the wing and slid down to the ground. He didn'tawaken either the goosey-gander or any of the other geese, but stole, silently and unobserved, through the morass. 

He didn't know exactly where on earth he was: if he was in Skåne, inSmåland, or in Blekinge. But just before he had gotten down in themorass, he had caught a glimpse of a large village, and thither hedirected his steps. It wasn't long, either, before he discovered a road;and soon he was on the village street, which was long, and had plantedtrees on both sides, and was bordered with garden after garden. 

The boy had come to one of the big cathedral towns, which are so commonon the uplands, but can hardly be seen at all down in the plain. 

The houses were of wood, and very prettily constructed. Most of them hadgables and fronts, edged with carved mouldings, and glass doors, withhere and there a coloured pane, opening on verandas. The walls werepainted in light oil-colours; the doors and window-frames shone in bluesand greens, and even in reds. While the boy walked about and viewed thehouses, he could hear, all the way out to the road, how the people whosat in the warm cottages chattered and laughed. The words he could notdistinguish, but he thought it was just lovely to hear human voices. "Iwonder what they would say if I knocked and begged to be let in, "thought he. 

This was, of course, what he had intended to do all along, but now thathe saw the lighted windows, his fear of the darkness was gone. Instead, he felt again that shyness which always came over him now when he wasnear human beings. "I'll take a look around the town for a whilelonger, " thought he, "before I ask anyone to take me in. "

On one house there was a balcony. And just as the boy walked by, thedoors were thrown open, and a yellow light streamed through the fine, sheer curtains. Then a pretty young fru came out on the balcony andleaned over the railing. "It's raining; now we shall soon have spring, "said she. When the boy saw her he felt a strange anxiety. It was asthough he wanted to weep. For the first time he was a bit uneasy becausehe had shut himself out from the human kind. 

Shortly after that he walked by a shop. Outside the shop stood a redcorn-drill. He stopped and looked at it; and finally crawled up to thedriver's place, and seated himself. When he had got there, he smackedwith his lips and pretended that he sat and drove. He thought what funit would be to be permitted to drive such a pretty machine over agrainfield. For a moment he forgot what he was like now; then heremembered it, and jumped down quickly from the machine. Then a greaterunrest came over him. After all, human beings were very wonderful andclever. 

He walked by the post-office, and then he thought of all the newspaperswhich came every day, with news from all the four corners of the earth. He saw the apothecary's shop and the doctor's home, and he thought aboutthe power of human beings, which was so great that they were able tobattle with sickness and death. He came to the church. Then he thoughthow human beings had built it, that they might hear about another worldthan the one in which they lived, of God and the resurrection andeternal life. And the longer he walked there, the better he liked humanbeings. 

It is so with children that they never think any farther ahead than thelength of their noses. That which lies nearest them, they wantpromptly, without caring what it may cost them. Nils Holgersson had notunderstood what he was losing when he chose to remain an elf; but now hebegan to be dreadfully afraid that, perhaps, he should never again getback to his right form. 

How in all the world should he go to work in order to become human? Thishe wanted, oh! so much, to know. 

He crawled up on a doorstep, and seated himself in the pouring rain andmeditated. He sat there one whole hour--two whole hours, and he thoughtso hard that his forehead lay in furrows; but he was none the wiser. Itseemed as though the thoughts only rolled round and round in his head. The longer he sat there, the more impossible it seemed to him to findany solution. 

"This thing is certainly much too difficult for one who has learned aslittle as I have, " he thought at last. "It will probably wind up by myhaving to go back among human beings after all. I must ask the ministerand the doctor and the schoolmaster and others who are learned, and mayknow a cure for such things. "

This he concluded that he would do at once, and shook himself--for hewas as wet as a dog that has been in a water-pool. 

Just about then he saw that a big owl came flying along, and alighted onone of the trees that bordered the village street. The next instant alady owl, who sat under the cornice of the house, began to call out:"Kivitt, Kivitt! Are you at home again, Mr. Gray Owl? What kind of atime did you have abroad?"

"Thank you, Lady Brown Owl. I had a very comfortable time, " said thegray owl. "Has anything out of the ordinary happened here at home duringmy absence?"

"Not here in Blekinge, Mr. Gray Owl; but in Skåne a marvellous thing hashappened! A boy has been transformed by an elf into a goblin no biggerthan a squirrel; and since then he has gone to Lapland with a tamegoose. "

"That's a remarkable bit of news, a remarkable bit of news. Can he neverbe human again, Lady Brown Owl? Can he never be human again?"

"That's a secret, Mr. Gray Owl; but you shall hear it just the same. The elf has said that if the boy watches over the goosey-gander, so thathe comes home safe and sound, and--"

"What more, Lady Brown Owl? What more? What more?"

"Fly with me up to the church tower, Mr. Gray Owl, and you shall hearthe whole story! I fear there may be someone listening down here in thestreet. " With that, the owls flew their way; but the boy flung his capin the air, and shouted: "If I only watch over the goosey-gander, sothat he gets back safe and sound, then I shall become a human beingagain. Hurrah! Hurrah! Then I shall become a human being again!"

He shouted "hurrah" until it was strange that they did not hear him inthe houses--but they didn't, and he hurried back to the wild geese, outin the wet morass, as fast as his legs could carry him. 

THE STAIRWAY WITH THE THREE STEPS

_Thursday, March thirty-first_. 

The following day the wild geese intended to travel northward throughAllbo district, in Småland. They sent Iksi and Kaksi to spy out theland. But when they returned, they said that all the water was frozen, and all the land was snow-covered. "We may as well remain where we are, "said the wild geese. "We cannot travel over a country where there isneither water nor food. " "If we remain where we are, we may have to waithere until the next moon, " said Akka. "It is better to go eastward, through Blekinge, and see if we can't get to Småland by way of Möre, which lies near the coast, and has an early spring. "

Thus the boy came to ride over Blekinge the next day. Now, that it waslight again, he was in a merry mood once more, and could not comprehendwhat had come over him the night before. He certainly didn't want togive up the journey and the outdoor life now. 

There lay a thick fog over Blekinge. The boy couldn't see how it lookedout there. "I wonder if it is a good, or a poor country that I'm ridingover, " thought he, and tried to search his memory for the things whichhe had heard about the country at school. But at the same time he knewwell enough that this was useless, as he had never been in the habit ofstudying his lessons. 

At once the boy saw the whole school before him. The children sat by thelittle desks and raised their hands; the teacher sat in the lectern andlooked displeased; and he himself stood before the map and should answersome question about Blekinge, but he hadn't a word to say. Theschoolmaster's face grew darker and darker for every second that passed, and the boy thought the teacher was more particular that they shouldknow their geography, than anything else. Now he came down from thelectern, took the pointer from the boy, and sent him back to his seat. "This won't end well, " the boy thought then. 

But the schoolmaster had gone over to a window, and had stood there fora moment and looked out, and then he had whistled to himself once. Thenhe had gone up into the lectern and said that he would tell themsomething about Blekinge. And that which he then talked about had beenso amusing that the boy had listened. When he only stopped and thoughtfor a moment, he remembered every word. 

"Småland is a tall house with spruce trees on the roof, " said theteacher, "and leading up to it is a broad stairway with three big steps;and this stairway is called Blekinge. It is a stairway that is wellconstructed. It stretches forty-two miles along the frontage of Smålandhouse, and anyone who wishes to go all the way down to the East sea, byway of the stairs, has twenty-four miles to wander. 

"A good long time must have elapsed since the stairway wasbuilt. Both days and years have gone by since the steps were hewn fromgray stones and laid down--evenly and smoothly--for a convenient trackbetween Småland and the East sea. 

"Since the stairway is so old, one can, of course, understand that itdoesn't look just the same now, as it did when it was new. I don't knowhow much they troubled themselves about such matters at that time; butbig as it was, no broom could have kept it clean. After a couple ofyears, moss and lichen began to grow on it. In the autumn dry leaves anddry grass blew down over it; and in the spring it was piled up withfalling stones and gravel. And as all these things were left there tomould, they finally gathered so much soil on the steps that not onlyherbs and grass, but even bushes and trees could take root there. 

"But, at the same time, a great disparity has arisen between the threesteps. The topmost step, which lies nearest Småland, is mostly coveredwith poor soil and small stones, and no trees except birches andbird-cherry and spruce--which can stand the cold on the heights, and aresatisfied with little--can thrive up there. One understands best howpoor and dry it is there, when one sees how small the field-plots are, that are ploughed up from the forest lands; and how many little cabinsthe people build for themselves; and how far it is between the churches. But on the middle step there is better soil, and it does not lie bounddown under such severe cold, either. This one can see at a glance, sincethe trees are both higher and of finer quality. There you'll find mapleand oak and linden and weeping-birch and hazel trees growing, but nocone-trees to speak of. And it is still more noticeable because of theamount of cultivated land that you will find there; and also because thepeople have built themselves great and beautiful houses. On the middlestep, there are many churches, with large towns around them; and inevery way it makes a better and finer appearance than the top step. 

"But the very lowest step is the best of all. It is covered with goodrich soil; and, where it lies and bathes in the sea, it hasn't theslightest feeling of the Småland chill. Beeches and chestnutand walnut trees thrive down here; and they grow so big that they towerabove the church-roofs. Here lie also the largest grain-fields; but thepeople have not only timber and farming to live upon, but they are alsooccupied with fishing and trading and seafaring. For this reason youwill find the most costly residences and the prettiest churches here;and the parishes have developed into villages and cities. 

"But this is not all that is said of the three steps. For one mustrealise that when it rains on the roof of the big Småland house, or whenthe snow melts up there, the water has to go somewhere; and then, naturally, a lot of it is spilled over the big stairway. In thebeginning it probably oozed over the whole stairway, big as it was; thencracks appeared in it, and, gradually, the water has accustomed itselfto flow alongside of it, in well dug-out grooves. And water is water, whatever one does with it. It never has any rest. In one place it cutsand files away, and in another it adds to. Those grooves it has dug intovales, and the walls of the vales it has decked with soil; and bushesand trees and vines have clung to them ever since--so thick, and in suchprofusion, that they almost hide the stream of water that winds its waydown there in the deep. But when the streams come to the landings betweenthe steps, they throw themselves headlong over them; this is why thewater comes with such a seething rush, that it gathers strength withwhich to move mill-wheels and machinery--these, too, have sprung up byevery waterfall. 

"But this does not tell all that is said of the land with the threesteps. It must also be told that up in the big house in Småland therelived once upon a time a giant, who had grown very old. And it fatiguedhim in his extreme age, to be forced to walk down that long stairway inorder to catch salmon from the sea. To him it seemed much more suitablethat the salmon should come up to him, where he lived. 

"Therefore, he went up on the roof of his great house; and there hestood and threw stones down into the East sea. He threw them with suchforce that they flew over the whole of Blekinge and dropped into thesea. And when the stones came down, the salmon got so scared that theycame up from the sea and fled toward the Blekinge streams; ran throughthe rapids; flung themselves with high leaps over the waterfalls, andstopped. 

"How true this is, one can see by the number of islands and points thatlie along the coast of Blekinge, and which are nothing in the world butthe big stones that the giant threw. 

"One can also tell because the salmon always go up in the Blekingestreams and work their way up through rapids and still water, all theway to Småland. 

"That giant is worthy of great thanks and much honour from the Blekingepeople; for salmon in the streams, and stone-cutting on the island--thatmeans work which gives food to many of them even to this day. "

BY RONNEBY RIVER

_Friday, April first_. 

Neither the wild geese nor Smirre Fox had believed that they should everrun across each other after they had left Skåne. But now it turned outso that the wild geese happened to take the route over Blekinge andthither Smirre Fox had also gone. 

So far he had kept himself in the northern parts of the province; andsince he had not as yet seen any manor parks, or hunting grounds filledwith game and dainty young deer, he was more disgruntled than he couldsay. 

One afternoon, when Smirre tramped around in the desolate forestdistrict of Mellanbygden, not far from Ronneby River, he saw a flock ofwild geese fly through the air. Instantly he observed that one of thegeese was white and then he knew, of course, with whom he had to deal. 

Smirre began immediately to hunt the geese--just as much for thepleasure of getting a good square meal, as for the desire to be avengedfor all the humiliation that they had heaped upon him. He saw that theyflew eastward until they came to Ronneby River. Then they changed theircourse, and followed the river toward the south. He understood that theyintended to seek a sleeping-place along the river-banks, and he thoughtthat he should be able to get hold of a pair of them without muchtrouble. But when Smirre finally discovered the place where the wildgeese had taken refuge, he observed they had chosen such awell-protected spot, that he couldn't get near. 

Ronneby River isn't any big or important body of water; nevertheless, itis just as much talked of, for the sake of its pretty shores. At severalpoints it forces its way forward between steep mountain-walls that standupright out of the water, and are entirely overgrown with honeysuckleand bird-cherry, mountain-ash and osier; and there isn't much that canbe more delightful than to row out on the little dark river on apleasant summer day, and look upward on all the soft green that fastensitself to the rugged mountain-sides. 

But now, when the wild geese and Smirre came to the river, it was coldand blustery spring-winter; all the trees were nude, and there wasprobably no one who thought the least little bit about whether the shorewas ugly or pretty. The wild geese thanked their good fortune that theyhad found a sand-strip large enough for them to stand upon, on a steepmountain wall. In front of them rushed the river, which was strong andviolent in the snow-melting time; behind them they had an impassablemountain rock wall, and overhanging branches screened them. Theycouldn't have it better. 

The geese were asleep instantly; but the boy couldn't get a wink ofsleep. As soon as the sun had disappeared he was seized with a fear ofthe darkness, and a wilderness-terror, and he longed for human beings. Where he lay--tucked in under the goose-wing--he could see nothing, andonly hear a little; and he thought if any harm came to thegoosey-gander, he couldn't save him. 

Noises and rustlings were heard from all directions, and he grew souneasy that he had to creep from under the wing and seat himself on theground, beside the goose. 

Long-sighted Smirre stood on the mountain's summit and looked down uponthe wild geese. "You may as well give this pursuit up first as last, " hesaid to himself. "You can't climb such a steep mountain; you can't swimin such a wild torrent; and there isn't the tiniest strip of land belowthe mountain which leads to the sleeping-place. Those geese are too wisefor you. Don't ever bother yourself again to hunt them!"

But Smirre, like all foxes, had found it hard to give up an undertakingalready begun, and so he lay down on the extremest point of the mountainedge, and did not take his eyes off the wild geese. While he lay andwatched them, he thought of all the harm they had done him. Yes, it wastheir fault that he had been driven from Skåne, and had been obliged tomove to poverty-stricken Blekinge. He worked himself up to such a pitch, as he lay there, that he wished the wild geese were dead, even if he, himself, should not have the satisfaction of eating them. 

When Smirre's resentment had reached this height, he heard rasping in alarge pine that grew close to him, and saw a squirrel come down from thetree, hotly pursued by a marten. Neither of them noticed Smirre; and hesat quietly and watched the chase, which went from tree to tree. Helooked at the squirrel, who moved among the branches as lightly asthough he'd been able to fly. He looked at the marten, who was not asskilled at climbing as the squirrel, but who still ran up and along thebranches just as securely as if they had been even paths in the forest. "If I could only climb half as well as either of them, " thought the fox, "those things down there wouldn't sleep in peace very long!"

As soon as the squirrel had been captured, and the chase was ended, Smirre walked over to the marten, but stopped two steps away from him, to signify that he did not wish to cheat him of his prey. He greeted themarten in a very friendly manner, and wished him good luck with hiscatch. Smirre chose his words well--as foxes always do. The marten, onthe contrary, who, with his long and slender body, his fine head, hissoft skin, and his light brown neck-piece, looked like a little marvelof beauty--but in reality was nothing but a crude forest dweller--hardlyanswered him. "It surprises me, " said Smirre, "that such a fine hunteras you are should be satisfied with chasing squirrels when there is muchbetter game within reach. " Here he paused; but when the marten onlygrinned impudently at him, he continued: "Can it be possible that youhaven't seen the wild geese that stand under the mountain wall? or areyou not a good enough climber to get down to them?"

This time he had no need to wait for an answer. The marten rushed up tohim with back bent, and every separate hair on end. "Have you seen wildgeese?" he hissed. "Where are they? Tell me instantly, or I'll bite yourneck off!" "No! you must remember that I'm twice your size--so be alittle polite. I ask nothing better than to show you the wild geese. "

The next instant the marten was on his way down the steep; and whileSmirre sat and watched how he swung his snake-like body from branch tobranch, he thought: "That pretty tree-hunter has the wickedest heart inall the forest. I believe that the wild geese will have me to thank fora bloody awakening. "

But just as Smirre was waiting to hear the geese's death-rattle, he sawthe marten tumble from branch to branch--and plump into the river so thewater splashed high. Soon thereafter, wings beat loudly and strongly andall the geese went up in a hurried flight. 

Smirre intended to hurry after the geese, but he was so curious to knowhow they had been saved, that he sat there until the marten cameclambering up. That poor thing was soaked in mud, and stopped every nowand then to rub his head with his forepaws. "Now wasn't that just what Ithought--that you were a booby, and would go and tumble into the river?"said Smirre, contemptuously. 

"I haven't acted boobyishly. You don't need to scold me, " said themarten. "I sat--all ready--on one of the lowest branches and thought howI should manage to tear a whole lot of geese to pieces, when a littlecreature, no bigger than a squirrel, jumped up and threw a stone at myhead with such force, that I fell into the water; and before I had timeto pick myself up--"

The marten didn't have to say any more. He had no audience. Smirre wasalready a long way off in pursuit of the wild geese. 

In the meantime Akka had flown southward in search of a newsleeping-place. There was still a little daylight; and, beside, thehalf-moon stood high in the heavens, so that she could see a little. Luckily, she was well acquainted in these parts, because it hadhappened more than once that she had been wind-driven to Blekinge whenshe travelled over the East sea in the spring. 

She followed the river as long as she saw it winding through themoon-lit landscape like a black, shining snake. In this way she came waydown to Djupafors--where the river first hides itself in an undergroundchannel--and then clear and transparent, as though it were made ofglass, rushes down in a narrow cleft, and breaks into bits against itsbottom in glittering drops and flying foam. Below the white falls lay afew stones, between which the water rushed away in a wild torrentcataract. Here mother Akka alighted. This was another goodsleeping-place--especially this late in the evening, when no humanbeings moved about. At sunset the geese would hardly have been able tocamp there, for Djupafors does not lie in any wilderness. On one side ofthe falls is a paper factory; on the other--which is steep, andtree-grown--is Djupadal's park, where people are always strolling abouton the steep and slippery paths to enjoy the wild stream's rushingmovement down in the ravine. 

It was about the same here as at the former place; none of thetravellers thought the least little bit that they had come to a prettyand well-known place. They thought rather that it was ghastly anddangerous to stand and sleep on slippery, wet stones, in the middle of arumbling waterfall. But they had to be content, if only they wereprotected from carnivorous animals. 

The geese fell asleep instantly, while the boy could find no rest insleep, but sat beside them that he might watch over the goosey-gander. 

After a while, Smirre came running along the river-shore. He spied thegeese immediately where they stood out in the foaming whirlpools, andunderstood that he couldn't get at them here, either. Still he couldn'tmake up his mind to abandon them, but seated himself on the shore andlooked at them. He felt very much humbled, and thought that his entirereputation as a hunter was at stake. 

All of a sudden, he saw an otter come creeping up from the falls with afish in his mouth. Smirre approached him but stopped within two steps ofhim, to show him that he didn't wish to take his game from him. 

"You're a remarkable one, who can content yourself with catching a fish, while the stones are covered with geese!" said Smirre. He was so eager, that he hadn't taken the time to arrange his words as carefully as hewas wont to do. The otter didn't turn his head once in the direction ofthe river. He was a vagabond--like all otters--and had fished many timesby Vomb Lake, and probably knew Smirre Fox. "I know very well how youact when you want to coax away a salmon-trout, Smirre, " said he. 

"Oh! is it you, Gripe?" said Smirre, and was delighted; for he knew thatthis particular otter was a quick and accomplished swimmer. "I don'twonder that you do not care to look at the wild geese, since you can'tmanage to get out to them. " But the otter, who had swimming-webs betweenhis toes, and a stiff tail--which was as good as an oar--and a skin thatwas water-proof, didn't wish to have it said of him that there was awaterfall that he wasn't able to manage. He turned toward the stream;and as soon as he caught sight of the wild geese, he threw the fishaway, and rushed down the steep shore and into the river. 

If it had been a little later in the spring, so that the nightingales inDjupafors had been at home, they would have sung for many a day ofGripe's struggle with the rapid. For the otter was thrust back by thewaves many times, and carried down river; but he fought his way steadilyup again. He swam forward in still water; he crawled over stones, andgradually came nearer the wild geese. It was a perilous trip, whichmight well have earned the right to be sung by the nightingales. 

Smirre followed the otter's course with his eyes as well as he could. Atlast he saw that the otter was in the act of climbing up to the wildgeese. But just then it shrieked shrill and wild. The otter tumbledbackward into the water, and dashed away as if he had been a blindkitten. An instant later, there was a great crackling of geese's wings. They raised themselves and flew away to find another sleeping-place. 

The otter soon came on land. He said nothing, but commenced to lick oneof his forepaws. When Smirre sneered at him because he hadn't succeeded, he broke out: "It was not the fault of my swimming-art, Smirre. I hadraced all the way over to the geese, and was about to climb up to them, when a tiny creature came running, and jabbed me in the foot with somesharp iron. It hurt so, I lost my footing, and then the current tookme. "

He didn't have to say any more. Smirre was already far away on his wayto the wild geese. 

Once again Akka and her flock had to take a night fly. Fortunately, themoon had not gone down; and with the aid of its light, she succeeded infinding another of those sleeping-places which she knew in thatneighbourhood. Again she followed the shining river toward the south. Over Djupadal's manor, and over Ronneby's dark roofs and whitewaterfalls she swayed forward without alighting. But a little south ofthe city and not far from the sea, lies Ronneby health-spring, with itsbath house and spring house; with its big hotel and summer cottages forthe spring's guests. All these stand empty and desolate in winter--whichthe birds know perfectly well; and many are the bird-companies who seekshelter on the deserted buildings' balustrades and balconies during hardstorm-times. 

Here the wild geese lit on a balcony, and, as usual, they fell asleep atonce. The boy, on the contrary, could not sleep because he hadn't caredto creep in under the goosey-gander's wing. 

The balcony faced south, so the boy had an outlook over the sea. Andsince he could not sleep, he sat there and saw how pretty it looked whensea and land meet, here in Blekinge. 

You see that sea and land can meet in many different ways. In manyplaces the land comes down toward the sea with flat, tufted meadows, andthe sea meets the land with flying sand, which piles up in mounds anddrifts. It appears as though they both disliked each other so much thatthey only wished to show the poorest they possessed. But it can alsohappen that, when the land comes toward the sea, it raises a wall ofhills in front of it--as though the sea were something dangerous. Whenthe land does this, the sea comes up to it with fiery wrath, and beatsand roars and lashes against the rocks, and looks as if it would tearthe land-hill to pieces. 

But in Blekinge it is altogether different when sea and land meet. Therethe land breaks itself up into points and islands and islets; and thesea divides itself into fiords and bays and sounds; and it is, perhaps, this which makes it look as if they must meet in happiness and harmony. 

Think now first and foremost of the sea! Far out it lies desolate andempty and big, and has nothing else to do but to roll its gray billows. When it comes toward the land, it happens across the first obstacle. This it immediately overpowers; tears away everything green, and makesit as gray as itself. Then it meets still another obstacle. With this itdoes the same thing. And still another. Yes, the same thing happens tothis also. It is stripped and plundered, as if it had fallen intorobbers' hands. Then the obstacles come nearer and nearer together, andthen the sea must understand that the land sends toward it her littlestchildren, in order to move it to pity. It also becomes more friendly thefarther in it comes; rolls its waves less high; moderates its storms;lets the green things stay in cracks and crevices; separates itself intosmall sounds and inlets, and becomes at last so harmless in the land, that little boats dare venture out on it. It certainly cannot recogniseitself--so mild and friendly has it grown. 

And then think of the hillside! It lies uniform, and looks the samealmost everywhere. It consists of flat grain-fields, with one andanother birch-grove between them; or else of long stretches of forestranges. It appears as if it had thought about nothing but grain andturnips and potatoes and spruce and pine. Then comes a sea-fiord thatcuts far into it. It doesn't mind that, but borders it with birch andalder, just as if it was an ordinary fresh-water lake. Then stillanother wave comes driving in. Nor does the hillside bother itself aboutcringing to this, but it, too, gets the same covering as the first one. Then the fiords begin to broaden and separate, they break up fields andwoods and then the hillside cannot help but notice them. "I believe itis the sea itself that is coming, " says the hillside, and then it beginsto adorn itself. It wreathes itself with blossoms, travels up and downin hills and throws islands into the sea. It no longer cares about pinesand spruces, but casts them off like old every day clothes, and paradeslater with big oaks and lindens and chestnuts, and with blossoming leafybowers, and becomes as gorgeous as a manor-park. And when it meets thesea, it is so changed that it doesn't know itself. All this one cannotsee very well until summertime; but, at any rate, the boy observed howmild and friendly nature was; and he began to feel calmer than he hadbeen before, that night. Then, suddenly, he heard a sharp and ugly yowlfrom the bath-house park; and when he stood up he saw, in the whitemoonlight, a fox standing on the pavement under the balcony. For Smirrehad followed the wild geese once more. But when he had found the placewhere they were quartered, he had understood that it was impossible toget at them in any way; then he had not been able to keep from yowlingwith chagrin. 

When the fox yowled in this manner, old Akka, the leader-goose, wasawakened. Although she could see nothing, she thought she recognised thevoice. "Is it you who are out to-night, Smirre?" said she. "Yes, " saidSmirre, "it is I; and I want to ask what you geese think of the nightthat I have given you?"

"Do you mean to say that it is you who have sent the marten and otteragainst us?" asked Akka. "A good turn shouldn't be denied, " said Smirre. "You once played the goose-game with me, now I have begun to play thefox-game with you; and I'm not inclined to let up on it so long as asingle one of you still lives even if I have to follow you the worldover!"

"You, Smirre, ought at least to think whether it is right for you, whoare weaponed with both teeth and claws, to hound us in this way; we, whoare without defence, " said Akka. 

Smirre thought that Akka sounded scared, and he said quickly: "If you, Akka, will take that Thumbietot--who has so often opposed me--and throwhim down to me, I'll promise to make peace with you. Then I'll nevermore pursue you or any of yours. " "I'm not going to give youThumbietot, " said Akka. "From the youngest of us to the oldest, we wouldwillingly give our lives for his sake!" "Since you're so fond of him, "said Smirre, "I'll promise you that he shall be the first among you thatI will wreak vengeance upon. "

Akka said no more, and after Smirre had sent up a few more yowls, allwas still. The boy lay all the while awake. Now it was Akka's words tothe fox that prevented him from sleeping. Never had he dreamed that heshould hear anything so great as that anyone was willing to risk lifefor his sake. From that moment, it could no longer be said of NilsHolgersson that he did not care for anyone. 

KARLSKRONA

_Saturday, April second_. 

It was a moonlight evening in Karlskrona--calm and beautiful. Butearlier in the day, there had been rain and wind; and the people musthave thought that the bad weather still continued, for hardly one ofthem had ventured out on the streets. 

While the city lay there so desolate, Akka, the wild goose, and herflock, came flying toward it over Vemmön and Pantarholmen. They were outin the late evening to seek a sleeping place on the islands. Theycouldn't remain inland because they were disturbed by Smirre Foxwherever they lighted. 

When the boy rode along high up in the air, and looked at the sea andthe islands which spread themselves before him, he thought thateverything appeared so strange and spook-like. The heavens were nolonger blue, but encased him like a globe of green glass. The sea wasmilk-white, and as far as he could see rolled small white waves tippedwith silver ripples. In the midst of all this white lay numerous littleislets, absolutely coal black. Whether they were big or little, whetherthey were as even as meadows, or full of cliffs, they looked just asblack. Even dwelling houses and churches and windmills, which at othertimes are white or red, were outlined in black against the green sky. The boy thought it was as if the earth had been transformed, and he wascome to another world. 

He thought that just for this one night he wanted to be brave, and notafraid--when he saw something that really frightened him. It was a highcliff island, which was covered with big, angular blocks; and betweenthe blocks shone specks of bright, shining gold. He couldn't keep fromthinking of Maglestone, by Trolle-Ljungby, which the trolls sometimesraised upon high gold pillars; and he wondered if this was somethinglike that. 

But with the stones and the gold it might have gone fairly well, if sucha lot of horrid things had not been lying all around the island. Itlooked like whales and sharks and other big sea-monsters. But the boyunderstood that it was the sea-trolls, who had gathered around theisland and intended to crawl up on it, to fight with the land-trolls wholived there. And those on the land were probably afraid, for he saw howa big giant stood on the highest point of the island and raised hisarms--as if in despair over all the misfortune that should come to himand his island. 

The boy was not a little terrified when he noticed that Akka began todescend right over that particular island! "No, for pity's sake! Wemust not light there, " said he. 

But the geese continued to descend, and soon the boy was astonished thathe could have seen things so awry. In the first place, the big stoneblocks were nothing but houses. The whole island was a city; and theshining gold specks were street lamps and lighted window-panes. Thegiant, who stood highest up on the island, and raised his arms, was achurch with two cross-towers; all the sea-trolls and monsters, which hethought he had seen, were boats and ships of every description, that layanchored all around the island. On the side which lay toward the landwere mostly row-boats and sailboats and small coast steamers; but on theside that faced the sea lay armour-clad battleships; some were broad, with very thick, slanting smokestacks; others were long and narrow, andso constructed that they could glide through the water like fishes. 

Now what city might this be? That, the boy could figure out because hesaw all the battleships. All his life he had loved ships, although hehad had nothing to do with any, except the galleys which he had sailedin the road ditches. He knew very well that this city--where so manybattleships lay--couldn't be any place but Karlskrona. 

The boy's grandfather had been an old marine; and as long as he hadlived, he had talked of Karlskrona every day; of the great warship dock, and of all the other things to be seen in that city. The boy feltperfectly at home, and he was glad that he should see all this of whichhe had heard so much. 

But he only had a glimpse of the towers and fortifications which barredthe entrance to the harbour, and the many buildings, and theshipyard--before Akka came down on one of the flat church-towers. 

This was a pretty safe place for those who wanted to get away from afox, and the boy began to wonder if he couldn't venture to crawl inunder the goosey-gander's wing for this one night. Yes, that he mightsafely do. It would do him good to get a little sleep. He should try tosee a little more of the dock and the ships after it had grown light. 

The boy himself thought it was strange that he could keep still and waituntil the next morning to see the ships. He certainly had not slept fiveminutes before he slipped out from under the wing and slid down thelightning-rod and the waterspout all the way down to the ground. 

Soon he stood on a big square which spread itself in front of thechurch. It was covered with round stones, and was just as difficult forhim to travel over, as it is for big people to walk on a tufted meadow. Those who are accustomed to live in the open--or way out in thecountry--always feel uneasy when they come into a city, where the housesstand straight and forbidding, and the streets are open, so thateveryone can see who goes there. And it happened in the same way withthe boy. When he stood on the big Karlskrona square, and looked at theGerman church, and town hall, and the cathedral from which he had justdescended, he couldn't do anything but wish that he was back on thetower again with the geese. 

It was a lucky thing that the square was entirely deserted. There wasn'ta human being about--unless he counted a statue that stood on a highpedestal. The boy gazed long at the statue, which represented a big, brawny man in a three-cornered hat, long waistcoat, knee-breeches andcoarse shoes, and wondered what kind of a one he was. He held a longstick in his hand, and he looked as if he would know how to make use ofit, too--for he had an awfully severe countenance, with a big, hookednose and an ugly mouth. 

"What is that long-lipped thing doing here?" said the boy at last. Hehad never felt so small and insignificant as he did that night. He triedto jolly himself up a bit by saying something audacious. Then he thoughtno more about the statue, but betook himself to a wide street which leddown to the sea. 

But the boy hadn't gone far before he heard that someone was followinghim. Someone was walking behind him, who stamped on the stone pavementwith heavy footsteps, and pounded on the ground with a hard stick. Itsounded as if the bronze man up in the square had gone out for apromenade. 

The boy listened after the steps, while he ran down the street, and hebecame more and more convinced that it was the bronze man. The groundtrembled, and the houses shook. It couldn't be anyone but he, who walkedso heavily, and the boy grew panic-stricken when he thought of what hehad just said to him. He did not dare to turn his head to find out if itreally was he. 

"Perhaps he is only out walking for recreation, " thought the boy. "Surely he can't be offended with me for the words I spoke. They werenot at all badly meant. "

Instead of going straight on, and trying to get down to the dock, theboy turned into a side street which led east. First and foremost, hewanted to get away from the one who tramped after him. 

But the next instant he heard that the bronze man had switched off tothe same street; and then the boy was so scared that he didn't know whathe would do with himself. And how hard it was to find any hiding placesin a city where all the gates were closed! Then he saw on his right anold frame church, which lay a short distance away from the street in thecentre of a large grove. Not an instant did he pause to consider, butrushed on toward the church. "If I can only get there, then I'll surelybe shielded from all harm, " thought he. 

As he ran forward, he suddenly caught sight of a man who stood on agravel path and beckoned to him. "There is certainly someone who willhelp me!" thought the boy; he became intensely happy, and hurried off inthat direction. He was actually so frightened that the heart of himfairly thumped in his breast. 

But when he came up to the man who stood on the edge of the gravel path, upon a low pedestal, he was absolutely thunderstruck. "Surely, it can'thave been that one who beckoned to me!" thought he; for he saw that theentire man was made of wood. 

He stood there and stared at him. He was a thick-set man on short legs, with a broad, ruddy countenance, shiny, black hair and full black beard. On his head he wore a wooden hat; on his body, a brown wooden coat;around his waist, a black wooden belt; on his legs he had wide woodenknee-breeches and wooden stockings; and on his feet black wooden shoes. He was newly painted and newly varnished, so that he glistened and shonein the moonlight. This undoubtedly had a good deal to do with giving himsuch a good-natured appearance, that the boy at once placed confidencein him. 

In his left hand he held a wooden slate, and there the boy read:

_Most humbly I beg you, Though voice I may lack:Come drop a penny, do; But lift my hat!_

Oh ho! the man was only a poor-box. The boy felt that he had been done. He had expected that this should be something really remarkable. And nowhe remembered that grandpa had also spoken of the wooden man, and saidthat all the children in Karlskrona were so fond of him. And that musthave been true, for he, too, found it hard to part with the wooden man. He had something so old-timy about him, that one could well take him tobe many hundred years old; and at the same time, he looked so strong andbold, and animated--just as one might imagine that folks looked in oldentimes. 

The boy had so much fun looking at the wooden man, that he entirelyforgot the one from whom he was fleeing. But now he heard him. He turnedfrom the street and came into the churchyard. He followed him here too!Where should the boy go?

Just then he saw the wooden man bend down to him and stretch forth hisbig, broad hand. It was impossible to believe anything but good of him;and with one jump, the boy stood in his hand. The wooden man lifted himto his hat--and stuck him under it. 

The boy was just hidden, and the wooden man had just gotten his arm inits right place again, when the bronze man stopped in front of him andbanged the stick on the ground, so that the wooden man shook on hispedestal. Thereupon the bronze man said in a strong and resonant voice:"Who might this one be?"

The wooden man's arm went up, so that it creaked in the old woodwork, and he touched his hat brim as he replied: "Rosenbom, by Your Majesty'sleave. Once upon a time boatswain on the man-of-war, _Dristigheten_;after completed service, sexton at the Admiral's church--and, lately, carved in wood and exhibited in the churchyard as a poor-box. "

The boy gave a start when he heard that the wooden man said "YourMajesty. " For now, when he thought about it, he knew that the statue onthe square represented the one who had founded the city. It was probablyno less an one than Charles the Eleventh himself, whom he hadencountered. 

"He gives a good account of himself, " said the bronze man. "Can he alsotell me if he has seen a little brat who runs around in the cityto-night? He's an impudent rascal, if I get hold of him, I'll teach himmanners!" With that, he again pounded on the ground with his stick, andlooked fearfully angry. 

"By Your Majesty's leave, I have seen him, " said the wooden man; and theboy was so scared that he commenced to shake where he sat under the hatand looked at the bronze man through a crack in the wood. But he calmeddown when the wooden man continued: "Your Majesty is on the wrong track. That youngster certainly intended to run into the shipyard, and concealhimself there. "

"Does he say so, Rosenbom? Well then, don't stand still on the pedestalany longer but come with me and help me find him. Four eyes are betterthan two, Rosenbom. "

But the wooden man answered in a doleful voice: "I would most humbly begto be permitted to stay where I am. I look well and sleek because of thepaint, but I'm old and mouldy, and cannot stand moving about. "

The bronze man was not one of those who liked to be contradicted. "Whatsort of notions are these? Come along, Rosenbom!" Then he raised hisstick and gave the other one a resounding whack on the shoulder. "DoesRosenbom not see that he holds together?"

With that they broke off and walked forward on the streets ofKarlskrona--large and mighty--until they came to a high gate, which ledto the shipyard. Just outside and on guard walked one of the navy'sjack-tars, but the bronze man strutted past him and kicked the gate openwithout the jack-tar's pretending to notice it. 

As soon as they had gotten into the shipyard, they saw before them awide, expansive harbor separated by pile-bridges. In the differentharbour basins, lay the warships, which looked bigger, and moreawe-inspiring close to, like this, than lately, when the boy had seenthem from up above. "Then it wasn't so crazy after all, to imagine thatthey were sea-trolls, " thought he. 

"Where does Rosenbom think it most advisable for us to begin thesearch?" said the bronze man. 

"Such an one as he could most easily conceal himself in the hall ofmodels, " replied the wooden man. 

On a narrow land-strip which stretched to the right from the gate, allalong the harbour, lay ancient structures. The bronze man walked over toa building with low walls, small windows, and a conspicuous roof. Hepounded on the door with his stick until it burst open; and tramped up apair of worn-out steps. Soon they came into a large hall, which wasfilled with tackled and full-rigged little ships. The boy understoodwithout being told, that these were models for the ships which had beenbuilt for the Swedish navy. 

There were ships of many different varieties. There were old men-of-war, whose sides bristled with cannon, and which had high structures fore andaft, and their masts weighed down with a network of sails and ropes. There were small island-boats with rowing-benches along the sides; therewere undecked cannon sloops and richly gilded frigates, which weremodels of the ones the kings had used on their travels. Finally, therewere also the heavy, broad armour-plated ships with towers and cannonon deck--such as are in use nowadays; and narrow, shining torpedo boatswhich resembled long, slender fishes. 

When the boy was carried around among all this, he was awed. "Fancy thatsuch big, splendid ships have been built here in Sweden!" he thought tohimself. 

He had plenty of time to see all that was to be seen in there; for whenthe bronze man saw the models, he forgot everything else. He examinedthem all, from the first to the last, and asked about them. AndRosenbom, the boatswain on the _Dristigheten_, told as much as he knewof the ships' builders, and of those who had manned them; and of thefates they had met. He told them about Chapman and Puke and Trolle; ofHoagland and Svensksund--all the way along until 1809--after that he hadnot been there. 

Both he and the bronze man had the most to say about the fine old woodenships. The new battleships they didn't exactly appear to understand. 

"I can hear that Rosenbom doesn't know anything about these new-fangledthings, " said the bronze man. "Therefore, let us go and look atsomething else; for this amuses me, Rosenbom. "

By this time he had entirely given up his search for the boy, who feltcalm and secure where he sat in the wooden hat. 

Thereupon both men wandered through the big establishment: sail-makingshops, anchor smithy, machine and carpenter shops. They saw the mastsheers and the docks; the large magazines, the arsenal, the rope-bridgeand the big discarded dock, which had been blasted in the rock. Theywent out upon the pile-bridges, where the naval vessels lay moored, stepped on board and examined them like two old sea-dogs; wondered;disapproved; approved; and became indignant. 

The boy sat in safety under the wooden hat, and heard all about how theyhad laboured and struggled in this place, to equip the navies which hadgone out from here. He heard how life and blood had been risked; how thelast penny had been sacrificed to build the warships; how skilled menhad strained all their powers, in order to perfect these ships whichhad been their fatherland's safeguard. A couple of times the tears cameto the boy's eyes, as he heard all this. 

And the very last, they went into an open court, where the galley modelsof old men-of-war were grouped; and a more remarkable sight the boy hadnever beheld; for these models had inconceivably powerful andterror-striking faces. They were big, fearless and savage: filled withthe same proud spirit that had fitted out the great ships. They werefrom another time than his. He thought that he shrivelled up beforethem. 

But when they came in here, the bronze man said to the wooden man:"Take off thy hat, Rosenbom, for those that stand here! They have allfought for the fatherland. "

And Rosenbom--like the bronze man--had forgotten why they had begun thistramp. Without thinking, he lifted the wooden hat from his head andshouted:

"I take off my hat to the one who chose the harbour and founded theshipyard and recreated the navy; to the monarch who has awakened allthis into life!"

"Thanks, Rosenbom! That was well spoken. Rosenbom is a fine man. Butwhat is this, Rosenbom?"

For there stood Nils Holgersson, right on the top of Rosenbom's baldpate. He wasn't afraid any longer; but raised his white toboggan hood, and shouted: "Hurrah for you, Longlip!"

The bronze man struck the ground hard with his stick; but the boy neverlearned what he had intended to do for now the sun ran up, and, at thesame time, both the bronze man and the wooden man vanished--as if theyhad been made of mists. While he still stood and stared after them, thewild geese flew up from the church tower, and swayed back and forth overthe city. Instantly they caught sight of Nils Holgersson; and then thebig white one darted down from the sky and fetched him. 

THE TRIP TO ÖLAND

_Sunday, April third_. 

The wild geese went out on a wooded island to feed. There they happenedto run across a few gray geese, who were surprised to see them--sincethey knew very well that their kinsmen, the wild geese, usually travelover the interior of the country. 

They were curious and inquisitive, and wouldn't be satisfied with lessthan that the wild geese should tell them all about the persecutionwhich they had to endure from Smirre Fox. When they had finished, agray goose, who appeared to be as old and as wise as Akka herself, said:"It was a great misfortune for you that Smirre Fox was declared anoutlaw in his own land. He'll be sure to keep his word, and follow youall the way up to Lapland. If I were in your place, I shouldn't travelnorth over Småland, but would take the outside route over Öland instead, so that he'll be thrown off the track entirely. To really mislead him, you must remain for a couple of days on Öland's southern point. Thereyou'll find lots of food and lots of company. I don't believe you'llregret it, if you go over there. "

It was certainly very sensible advice, and the wild geese concluded tofollow it. As soon as they had eaten all they could hold, they startedon the trip to Öland. None of them had ever been there before, but thegray goose had given them excellent directions. They only had to traveldirect south until they came to a large bird-track, which extended allalong the Blekinge coast. All the birds who had winter residences by theWest sea, and who now intended to travel to Finland and Russia, flewforward there--and, in passing, they were always in the habit ofstopping at Öland to rest. The wild geese would have no trouble infinding guides. 

That day it was perfectly still and warm--like a summer's day--the bestweather in the world for a sea trip. The only grave thing about it wasthat it was not quite clear, for the sky was gray and veiled. Here andthere were enormous mist-clouds which hung way down to the sea's outeredge, and obstructed the view. 

When the travellers had gotten away from the wooded island, the seaspread itself so smooth and mirror-like, that the boy as he looked downthought the water had disappeared. There was no longer any earth underhim. He had nothing but mist and sky around him. He grew very dizzy, andheld himself tight on the goose-back, more frightened than when he satthere for the first time. It seemed as though he couldn't possibly holdon; he must fall in some direction. 

It was even worse when they reached the big bird-track, of which thegray goose had spoken. Actually, there came flock after flock flying inexactly the same direction. They seemed to follow a fixed route. Therewere ducks and gray geese, surf-scoters and guillemots, loons andpin-tail ducks and mergansers and grebes and oyster-catchers andsea-grouse. But now, when the boy leaned forward, and looked in thedirection where the sea ought to lie, he saw the whole bird processionreflected in the water. But he was so dizzy that he didn't understandhow this had come about: he thought that the whole bird procession flewwith their bellies upside down. Still he didn't wonder at this so much, for he did not himself know which was up, and which was down. 

The birds were tired out and impatient to get on. None of them shriekedor said a funny thing, and this made everything seem peculiarly unreal. 

"Think, if we have travelled away from the earth!" he said to himself. "Think, if we are on our way up to heaven!"

He saw nothing but mists and birds around him, and began to look upon itas reasonable that they were travelling heaven-ward. He was glad, andwondered what he should see up there. The dizziness passed all at once. He was so exceedingly happy at the thought that he was on his way toheaven and was leaving this earth. 

Just about then he heard a couple of loud shots, and saw two whitesmoke-columns ascend. 

There was a sudden awakening, and an unrest among the birds. "Hunters!Hunters!" they cried. "Fly high! Fly away!"

Then the boy saw, finally, that they were travelling all the while overthe sea-coast, and that they certainly were not in heaven. In a long rowlay small boats filled with hunters, who fired shot upon shot. Thenearest bird-flocks hadn't noticed them in time. They had flown too low. Several dark bodies sank down toward the sea; and for every one thatfell, there arose cries of anguish from the living. 

It was strange for one who had but lately believed himself in heaven, towake up suddenly to such fear and lamentation. Akka shot toward theheights as fast as she could, and the flock followed with the greatestpossible speed. The wild geese got safely out of the way, but the boycouldn't get over his amazement. "To think that anyone could wish toshoot upon such as Akka and Yksi and Kaksi and the goosey-gander and theothers! Human beings had no conception of what they did. "

So it bore on again, in the still air, and everything was as quiet asheretofore--with the exception that some of the tired birds called outevery now and then: "Are we not there soon? Are you sure we're on theright track?" Hereupon, those who flew in the centre answered: "We areflying straight to Öland; straight to Öland. "

The gray geese were tired out, and the loons flew around them. "Don't bein such a rush!" cried the ducks. "You'll eat up all the food before weget there. " "Oh! there'll be enough for both you and us, " answered theloons. 

Before they had gotten so far that they saw Öland, there came a lightwind against them. It brought with it something that resembled immenseclouds of white smoke--just as if there was a big fire somewhere. 

When the birds saw the first white spiral haze, they became uneasy andincreased their speed. But that which resembled smoke blew thicker andthicker, and at last it enveloped them altogether. They smelled nosmoke; and the smoke was not dark and dry, but white and damp. Suddenlythe boy understood that it was nothing but a mist. 

When the mist became so thick that one couldn't see a goose-lengthahead, the birds began to carry on like real lunatics. All these, whobefore had travelled forward in such perfect order, began to play in themist. They flew hither and thither, to entice one another astray. "Becareful!" they cried. "You're only travelling round and round. Turnback, for pity's sake! You'll never get to Öland in this way. "

They all knew perfectly well where the island was, but they did theirbest to lead each other astray. "Look at those wagtails!" rang out inthe mist. "They are going back toward the North Sea!" "Have a care, wildgeese!" shrieked someone from another direction. "If you continue likethis, you'll get clear up to Rügen. "

There was, of course, no danger that the birds who were accustomed totravel here would permit themselves to be lured in a wrong direction. But the ones who had a hard time of it were the wild geese. The jestersobserved that they were uncertain as to the way, and did all they couldto confuse them. 

"Where do you intend to go, good people?" called a swan. He came rightup to Akka, and looked sympathetic and serious. 

"We shall travel to Öland; but we have never been there before, " saidAkka. She thought that this was a bird to be trusted. 

"It's too bad, " said the swan. "They have lured you in the wrongdirection. You're on the road to Blekinge. Now come with me, and I'llput you right!"

And so he flew off with them; and when he had taken them so far awayfrom the track that they heard no calls, he disappeared in the mist. 

They flew around for a while at random. They had barely succeeded infinding the birds again, when a duck approached them. "It's best thatyou lie down on the water until the mist clears, " said the duck. "It isevident that you are not accustomed to look out for yourselves onjourneys. "

Those rogues succeeded in making Akka's head swim. As near as the boycould make out, the wild geese flew round and round for a long time. 

"Be careful! Can't you see that you are flying up and down?" shouted aloon as he rushed by. The boy positively clutched the goosey-ganderaround the neck. This was something which he had feared for a long time. 

No one can tell when they would have arrived, if they hadn't heard arolling and muffled sound in the distance. 

Then Akka craned her neck, snapped hard with her wings, and rushed on atfull speed. Now she had something to go by. The gray goose had told hernot to light on Öland's southern point, because there was a cannonthere, which the people used to shoot the mist with. Now she knew theway, and now no one in the world should lead her astray again. 

ÖLAND'S SOUTHERN POINT

_April third to sixth_. 

On the most southerly part of Öland lies a royal demesne, which iscalled Ottenby. It is a rather large estate which extends from shore toshore, straight across the island; and it is remarkable because it hasalways been a haunt for large bird-companies. In the seventeenthcentury, when the kings used to go over to Öland to hunt, the entireestate was nothing but a deer park. In the eighteenth century there wasa stud there, where blooded race-horses were bred; and a sheep farm, where several hundred sheep were maintained. In our days you'll findneither blooded horses nor sheep at Ottenby. In place of them livegreat herds of young horses, which are to be used by the cavalry. 

In all the land there is certainly no place that could be a better abodefor animals. Along the extreme eastern shore lies the old sheep meadow, which is a mile and a half long, and the largest meadow in all Öland, where animals can graze and play and run about, as free as if they werein a wilderness. And there you will find the celebrated Ottenby grovewith the hundred-year-old oaks, which give shade from the sun, andshelter from the severe Öland winds. And we must not forget the longOttenby wall, which stretches from shore to shore, and separates Ottenbyfrom the rest of the island, so that the animals may know how far theold royal demesne extends, and be careful about getting in on otherground, where they are not so well protected. 

You'll find plenty of tame animals at Ottenby, but that isn't all. Onecould almost believe that the wild ones also felt that on an old crownproperty both the wild and the tame ones can count upon shelter andprotection--since they venture there in such great numbers. 

Besides, there are still a few stags of the old descent left; andburrow-ducks and partridges love to live there, and it offers a restingplace, in the spring and late summer, for thousands of migratory birds. Above all, it is the swampy eastern shore below the sheep meadow, wherethe migratory birds alight, to rest and feed. 

When the wild geese and Nils Holgersson had finally found their way toÖland, they came down, like all the rest, on the shore near the sheepmeadow. The mist lay thick over the island, just as it had over the sea. But still the boy was amazed at all the birds which he discerned, onlyon the little narrow stretch of shore which he could see. 

It was a low sand-shore with stones and pools, and a lot of cast-upsea-weed. If the boy had been permitted to choose, it isn't likely thathe would have thought of alighting there; but the birds probably lookedupon this as a veritable paradise. Ducks and geese walked about and fedon the meadow; nearer the water, ran snipe, and other coast-birds. Theloons lay in the sea and fished, but the life and movement was upon thelong sea-weed banks along the coast. There the birds stood side by sideclose together and picked grub-worms--which must have been found therein limitless quantities for it was very evident that there was never anycomplaint over a lack of food. 

The great majority were going to travel farther, and had only alightedto take a short rest; and as soon as the leader of a flock thought thathis comrades had recovered themselves sufficiently he said, "If you areready now, we may as well move on. "

"No, wait, wait! We haven't had anything like enough, " said thefollowers. 

"You surely don't believe that I intend to let you eat so much that youwill not be able to move?" said the leader, and flapped his wings andstarted off. Along the outermost sea-weed banks lay a flock of swans. They didn't bother about going on land, but rested themselves by lyingand rocking on the water. Now and then they dived down with their necksand brought up food from the sea-bottom. When they had gotten hold ofanything very good, they indulged in loud shouts that sounded liketrumpet calls. 

When the boy heard that there were swans on the shoals, he hurried outto the sea-weed banks. He had never before seen wild swans at closerange. He had luck on his side, so that he got close up to them. 

The boy was not the only one who had heard the swans. Both the wildgeese and the gray geese and the loons swam out between the banks, laidthemselves in a ring around the swans and stared at them. The swansruffled their feathers, raised their wings like sails, and lifted theirnecks high in the air. Occasionally one and another of them swam up to agoose, or a great loon, or a diving-duck, and said a few words. And thenit appeared as though the one addressed hardly dared raise his bill toreply. 

But then there was a little loon--a tiny mischievous baggage--whocouldn't stand all this ceremony. He dived suddenly, and disappearedunder the water's edge. Soon after that, one of the swans let out ascream, and swam off so quickly that the water foamed. Then he stoppedand began to look majestic once more. But soon, another one shrieked inthe same way as the first one, and then a third. 

The little loon wasn't able to stay under water any longer, but appearedon the water's edge, little and black and venomous. The swans rushedtoward him; but when they saw what a poor little thing it was, theyturned abruptly--as if they considered themselves too good to quarrelwith him. Then the little loon dived again, and pinched their feet. Itcertainly must have hurt; and the worst of it was, that they could notmaintain their dignity. At once they took a decided stand. They began tobeat the air with their wings so that it thundered; came forward abit--as though they were running on the water--got wind under theirwings, and raised themselves. 

When the swans were gone they were greatly missed; and those who hadlately been amused by the little loon's antics scolded him for histhoughtlessness. 

The boy walked toward land again. There he stationed himself to see howthe pool-snipe played. They resembled small storks; like these, they hadlittle bodies, long legs and necks, and light, swaying movements; onlythey were not gray, but brown. They stood in a long row on the shorewhere it was washed by waves. As soon as a wave rolled in, the whole rowran backward; as soon as it receded, they followed it. And they keptthis up for hours. 

The showiest of all the birds were the burrow-ducks. They wereundoubtedly related to the ordinary ducks; for, like these, they too hada thick-set body, broad bill, and webbed feet; but they were much moreelaborately gotten up. The feather dress, itself, was white; aroundtheir necks they wore a broad gold band; the wing-mirror shone in green, red, and black; and the wing-edges were black, and the head was darkgreen and shimmered like satin. 

As soon as any of these appeared on the shore, the others said: "Now, just look at those things! They know how to tog themselves out. " "Ifthey were not so conspicuous, they wouldn't have to dig their nests inthe earth, but could lay above ground, like anyone else, " said a brownmallard-duck. "They may try as much as they please, still they'll neverget anywhere with such noses, " said a gray goose. And this was actuallytrue. The burrow-ducks had a big knob on the base of the bill, whichspoiled their appearance. 

Close to the shore, sea-gulls and sea-swallows moved forward on thewater and fished. "What kind of fish are you catching?" asked a wildgoose. "It's a stickleback. It's Öland stickleback. It's the beststickleback in the world, " said a gull. "Won't you taste of it?" And heflew up to the goose, with his mouth full of the little fishes, andwanted to give her some. "Ugh! Do you think that I eat such filth?" saidthe wild goose. 

The next morning it was just as cloudy. The wild geese walked about onthe meadow and fed; but the boy had gone to the seashore to gathermussels. There were plenty of them; and when he thought that the nextday, perhaps, they would be in some place where they couldn't get anyfood at all, he concluded that he would try to make himself a littlebag, which he could fill with mussels. He found an old sedge on themeadow, which was strong and tough; and out of this he began to braid aknapsack. He worked at this for several hours, but he was well satisfiedwith it when it was finished. 

At dinner time all the wild geese came running and asked him if he hadseen anything of the white goosey-gander. "No, he has not been with me, "said the boy. "We had him with us all along until just lately, " saidAkka, "but now we no longer know where he's to be found. "

The boy jumped up, and was terribly frightened. He asked if any fox oreagle had put in an appearance, or if any human being had been seen inthe neighbourhood. But no one had noticed anything dangerous. Thegoosey-gander had probably lost his way in the mist. 

But it was just as great a misfortune for the boy, in whatever way thewhite one had been lost, and he started off immediately to hunt for him. The mist shielded him, so that he could run wherever he wished withoutbeing seen, but it also prevented him from seeing. He ran southwardalong the shore--all the way down to the lighthouse and the mist cannonon the island's extreme point. It was the same bird confusioneverywhere, but no goosey-gander. He ventured over to Ottenby estate, and he searched every one of the old, hollow oaks in Ottenby grove, buthe saw no trace of the goosey-gander. 

He searched until it began to grow dark. Then he had to turn back againto the eastern shore. He walked with heavy steps, and was fearfullyblue. He didn't know what would become of him if he couldn't find thegoosey-gander. There was no one whom he could spare less. 

But when he wandered over the sheep meadow, what was that big, whitething that came toward him in the mist if it wasn't the goosey-gander?He was all right, and very glad that, at last, he had been able to findhis way back to the others. The mist had made him so dizzy, he said, that he had wandered around on the big meadow all day long. The boythrew his arms around his neck, for very joy, and begged him to takecare of himself, and not wander away from the others. And he promised, positively, that he never would do this again. No, never again. 

But the next morning, when the boy went down to the beach and hunted formussels, the geese came running and asked if he had seen thegoosey-gander. No, of course he hadn't. "Well, then the goosey-ganderwas lost again. He had gone astray in the mist, just as he had done theday before. "

The boy ran off in great terror and began to search. He found one placewhere the Ottenby wall was so tumble-down that he could climb over it. Later, he went about, first on the shore which gradually widened andbecame so large that there was room for fields and meadows andfarms--then up on the flat highland, which lay in the middle of theisland, and where there were no buildings except windmills, and wherethe turf was so thin that the white cement shone under it. 

Meanwhile, he could not find the goosey-gander; and as it drew on towardevening, and the boy must return to the beach, he couldn't believeanything but that his travelling companion was lost. He was sodepressed, he did not know what to do with himself. 

He had just climbed over the wall again when he heard a stone crash downclose beside him. As he turned to see what it was, he thought that hecould distinguish something that moved on a stone pile which lay closeto the wall. He stole nearer, and saw the goosey-gander come trudgingwearily over the stone pile, with several long fibres in his mouth. Thegoosey-gander didn't see the boy, and the boy did not call to him, butthought it advisable to find out first why the goosey-gander time andagain disappeared in this manner. 

And he soon learned the reason for it. Up in the stone pile lay a younggray goose, who cried with joy when the goosey-gander came. The boycrept near, so that he heard what they said; then he found out that thegray goose had been wounded in one wing, so that she could not fly, andthat her flock had travelled away from her, and left her alone. She hadbeen near death's door with hunger, when the white goosey-gander hadheard her call, the other day, and had sought her out. Ever since, hehad been carrying food to her. They had both hoped that she would bewell before they left the island, but, as yet, she could neither fly norwalk. She was very much worried over this, but he comforted her with thethought that he shouldn't travel for a long time. At last he bade hergood-night, and promised to come the next day. 

The boy let the goosey-gander go; and as soon as he was gone, he stole, in turn, up to the stone heap. He was angry because he had beendeceived, and now he wanted to say to that gray goose that thegoosey-gander was his property. He was going to take the boy up toLapland, and there would be no talk of his staying here on her account. But now, when he saw the young gray goose close to, he understood, notonly why the goosey-gander had gone and carried food to her for twodays, but also why he had not wished to mention that he had helped her. She had the prettiest little head; her feather-dress was like softsatin, and the eyes were mild and pleading. 

When she saw the boy, she wanted to run away; but the left wing was outof joint and dragged on the ground, so that it interfered with hermovements. 

"You mustn't be afraid of me, " said the boy, and didn't look nearly soangry as he had intended to appear. "I'm Thumbietot, MortenGoosey-gander's comrade, " he continued. Then he stood there, and didn'tknow what he wanted to say. 

Occasionally one finds something among animals which makes one wonderwhat sort of creatures they really are. One is almost afraid that theymay be transformed human beings. It was something like this with thegray goose. As soon as Thumbietot said who he was, she lowered her neckand head very charmingly before him, and said in a voice that was sopretty that he couldn't believe it was a goose who spoke: "I am veryglad that you have come here to help me. The white goosey-gander hastold me that no one is as wise and as good as you. "

She said this with such dignity, that the boy grew really embarrassed. "This surely can't be any bird, " thought he. "It is certainly somebewitched princess. "

He was filled with a desire to help her, and ran his hand under thefeathers, and felt along the wing-bone. The bone was not broken, butthere was something wrong with the joint. He got his finger down intothe empty cavity. "Be careful, now!" he said; and got a firm grip on thebone-pipe and fitted it into the place where it ought to be. He did itvery quickly and well, considering it was the first time that he hadattempted anything of the sort. But it must have hurt very much, for thepoor young goose uttered a single shrill cry, and then sank down amongthe stones without showing a sign of life. 

The boy was terribly frightened. He had only wished to help her, and nowshe was dead. He made a big jump from the stone pile, and ran away. Hethought it was as though he had murdered a human being. 

The next morning it was clear and free from mist, and Akka said that nowthey should continue their travels. All the others were willing to go, but the white goosey-gander made excuses. The boy understood well enoughthat he didn't care to leave the gray goose. Akka did not listen to him, but started off. 

The boy jumped up on the goosey-gander's back, and the white onefollowed the flock--albeit slowly and unwillingly. The boy was mightyglad that they could fly away from the island. He was conscience-strickenon account of the gray goose, and had not cared to tell the goosey-ganderhow it had turned out when he had tried to cure her. It would probably bebest if Morten goosey-gander never found out about this, he thought, though he wondered, at the same time, how the white one had the heart toleave the gray goose. 

But suddenly the goosey-gander turned. The thought of the young graygoose had overpowered him. It could go as it would with the Laplandtrip: he couldn't go with the others when he knew that she lay alone andill, and would starve to death. 

With a few wing-strokes he was over the stone pile; but then, there layno young gray goose between the stones. "Dunfin! Dunfin! Where artthou?" called the goosey-gander. 

"The fox has probably been here and taken her, " thought the boy. But atthat moment he heard a pretty voice answer the goosey-gander. "Here amI, goosey-gander; here am I! I have only been taking a morning bath. "And up from the water came the little gray goose--fresh and in goodtrim--and told how Thumbietot had pulled her wing into place, and thatshe was entirely well, and ready to follow them on the journey. 

The drops of water lay like pearl-dew on her shimmery satin-likefeathers, and Thumbietot thought once again that she was a real littleprincess. 

THE BIG BUTTERFLY

_Wednesday, April sixth_. 

The geese travelled alongside the coast of the long island, which laydistinctly visible under them. The boy felt happy and light of heartduring the trip. He was just as pleased and well satisfied as he hadbeen glum and depressed the day before, when he roamed around down onthe island, and hunted for the goosey-gander. 

He saw now that the interior of the island consisted of a barren highplain, with a wreath of fertile land along the coast; and he began tocomprehend the meaning of something which he had heard the otherevening. 

He had just seated himself to rest a bit by one of the many windmills onthe highland, when a couple of shepherds came along with the dogs besidethem, and a large herd of sheep in their train. The boy had not beenafraid because he was well concealed under the windmill stairs. But asit turned out, the shepherds came and seated themselves on the samestairway, and then there was nothing for him to do but to keep perfectlystill. 

One of the shepherds was young, and looked about as folks do mostly; theother was an old queer one. His body was large and knotty, but the headwas small, and the face had sensitive and delicate features. It appearedas though the body and head didn't want to fit together at all. 

One moment he sat silent and gazed into the mist, with an unutterablyweary expression. Then he began to talk to his companion. Then the otherone took out some bread and cheese from his knapsack, to eat his eveningmeal. He answered scarcely anything, but listened very patiently, justas if he were thinking: "I might as well give you the pleasure ofletting you chatter a while. "

"Now I shall tell you something, Eric, " said the old shepherd. "I havefigured out that in former days, when both human beings and animals weremuch larger than they are now, that the butterflies, too, must have beenuncommonly large. And once there was a butterfly that was many mileslong, and had wings as wide as seas. Those wings were blue, and shonelike silver, and so gorgeous that, when the butterfly was out flying, all the other animals stood still and stared at it. It had thisdrawback, however, that it was too large. The wings had hard work tocarry it. But probably all would have gone very well, if the butterflyhad been wise enough to remain on the hillside. But it wasn't; itventured out over the East sea. And it hadn't gotten very far before thestorm came along and began to tear at its wings. Well, it's easy tounderstand, Eric, how things would go when the East sea storm commencedto wrestle with frail butterfly-wings. It wasn't long before they weretorn away and scattered; and then, of course, the poor butterfly fellinto the sea. At first it was tossed backward and forward on thebillows, and then it was stranded upon a few cliff-foundations outsideof Småland. And there it lay--as large and long as it was. 

"Now I think, Eric, that if the butterfly had dropped on land, it wouldsoon have rotted and fallen apart. But since it fell into the sea, itwas soaked through and through with lime, and became as hard as a stone. You know, of course, that we have found stones on the shore which werenothing but petrified worms. Now I believe that it went the same waywith the big butterfly-body. I believe that it turned where it lay intoa long, narrow mountain out in the East sea. Don't you?"

He paused for a reply, and the other one nodded to him. "Go on, so I mayhear what you are driving at, " said he. 

"And mark you, Eric, that this very Öland, upon which you and I live, isnothing else than the old butterfly-body. If one only thinks about it, one can observe that the island is a butterfly. Toward the north, theslender fore-body and the round head can be seen, and toward the south, one sees the back-body--which first broadens out, and then narrows to asharp point. "

Here he paused once more and looked at his companion rather anxiously tosee how he would take this assertion. But the young man kept on eatingwith the utmost calm, and nodded to him to continue. 

"As soon as the butterfly had been changed into a limestone rock, manydifferent kinds of seeds of herbs and trees came travelling with thewinds, and wanted to take root on it. It was a long time before anythingbut sedge could grow there. Then came sheep sorrel, and the rock-roseand thorn-brush. But even to-day there is not so much growth on Alvaret, that the mountain is well covered, but it shines through here and there. And no one can think of ploughing and sowing up here, where theearth-crust is so thin. But if you will admit that Alvaret and thestrongholds around it, are made of the butterfly-body, then you may wellhave the right to question where that land which lies beneath thestrongholds came from. "

"Yes, it is just that, " said he who was eating. "That I should indeedlike to know. "

"Well, you must remember that Öland has lain in the sea for a good manyyears, and in the course of time all the things which tumble around withthe waves--sea-weed and sand and clams--have gathered around it, andremained lying there. And then, stone and gravel have fallen down fromboth the eastern and western strongholds. In this way the island hasacquired broad shores, where grain and flowers and trees can grow. 

"Up here, on the hard butterfly-back, only sheep and cows and littlehorses go about. Only lapwings and plover live here, and there are nobuildings except windmills and a few stone huts, where we shepherdscrawl in. But down on the coast lie big villages and churches andparishes and fishing hamlets and a whole city. "

He looked questioningly at the other one. This one had finished hismeal, and was tying the food-sack together. "I wonder where you will endwith all this, " said he. 

"It is only this that I want to know, " said the shepherd, as he loweredhis voice so that he almost whispered the words, and looked into themist with his small eyes, which appeared to be worn out from spyingafter all that which does not exist. "Only this I want to know: if thepeasants who live on the built-up farms beneath the strongholds, or thefishermen who take the small herring from the sea, or the merchants inBorgholm, or the bathing guests who come here every summer, or thetourists who wander around in Borgholm's old castle ruin, or thesportsmen who come here in the fall to hunt partridges, or the painterswho sit here on Alvaret and paint the sheep and windmills--I should liketo know if any of them understand that this island has been a butterflywhich flew about with great shimmery wings. "

"Ah!" said the young shepherd, suddenly. "It should have occurred tosome of them, as they sat on the edge of the stronghold of an evening, and heard the nightingales trill in the groves below them, and lookedover Kalmar Sound, that this island could not have come into existencein the same way as the others. "

"I want to ask, " said the old one, "if no one has had the desire to givewings to the windmills--so large that they could reach to heaven, solarge that they could lift the whole island out of the sea and let itfly like a butterfly among butterflies. "

"It may be possible that there is something in what you say, " said theyoung one; "for on summer nights, when the heavens widen and open overthe island, I have sometimes thought that it was as if it wanted toraise itself from the sea, and fly away. "

But when the old one had finally gotten the young one to talk, he didn'tlisten to him very much. "I would like to know, " the old one said in alow tone, "if anyone can explain why one feels such a longing up here onAlvaret. I have felt it every day of my life; and I think it preys uponeach and every one who must go about here. I want to know if no one elsehas understood that all this wistfulness is caused by the fact that thewhole island is a butterfly that longs for its wings. "

LITTLE KARL'S ISLAND

THE STORM

_Friday, April eighth_. 

The wild geese had spent the night on Öland's northern point, and werenow on their way to the continent. A strong south wind blew over KalmarSound, and they had been thrown northward. Still they worked their waytoward land with good speed. But when they were nearing the firstislands a powerful rumbling was heard, as if a lot of strong-wingedbirds had come flying; and the water under them, all at once, becameperfectly black. Akka drew in her wings so suddenly that she almoststood still in the air. Thereupon, she lowered herself to light on theedge of the sea. But before the geese had reached the water, the weststorm caught up with them. Already, it drove before it fogs, salt scumand small birds; it also snatched with it the wild geese, threw them onend, and cast them toward the sea. 

It was a rough storm. The wild geese tried to turn back, time and again, but they couldn't do it and were driven out toward the East sea. Thestorm had already blown them past Öland, and the sea lay beforethem--empty and desolate. There was nothing for them to do but to keepout of the water. 

When Akka observed that they were unable to turn back she thought thatit was needless to let the storm drive them over the entire East sea. Therefore she sank down to the water. Now the sea was raging, andincreased in violence with every second. The sea-green billows rolledforward, with seething foam on their crests. Each one surged higher thanthe other. It was as though they raced with each other, to see whichcould foam the wildest. But the wild geese were not afraid of theswells. On the contrary, this seemed to afford them much pleasure. Theydid not strain themselves with swimming, but lay and let themselves bewashed up with the wave-crests, and down in the water-dales, and hadjust as much fun as children in a swing. Their only anxiety was that theflock should be separated. The few land-birds who drove by, up in thestorm, cried with envy: "There is no danger for you who can swim. "

But the wild geese were certainly not out of all danger. In the firstplace, the rocking made them helplessly sleepy. They wished continuallyto turn their heads backward, poke their bills under their wings, and goto sleep. Nothing can be more dangerous than to fall asleep in this way;and Akka called out all the while: "Don't go to sleep, wild geese! Hethat falls asleep will get away from the flock. He that gets away fromthe flock is lost. "

Despite all attempts at resistance one after another fell asleep; andAkka herself came pretty near dozing off, when she suddenly sawsomething round and dark rise on the top of a wave. "Seals! Seals!Seals!" cried Akka in a high, shrill voice, and raised herself up in theair with resounding wing-strokes. It was just at the crucial moment. Before the last wild goose had time to come up from the water, the sealswere so close to her that they made a grab for her feet. 

Then the wild geese were once more up in the storm which drove thembefore it out to sea. No rest did it allow either itself or the wildgeese; and no land did they see--only desolate sea. 

They lit on the water again, as soon as they dared venture. But whenthey had rocked upon the waves for a while, they became sleepy again. And when they fell asleep, the seals came swimming. If old Akka had notbeen so wakeful, not one of them would have escaped. 

All day the storm raged; and it caused fearful havoc among the crowds oflittle birds, which at this time of year were migrating. Some weredriven from their course to foreign lands, where they died ofstarvation; others became so exhausted that they sank down in the seaand were drowned. Many were crushed against the cliff-walls, and manybecame a prey for the seals. 

The storm continued all day, and, at last, Akka began to wonder if sheand her flock would perish. They were now dead tired, and nowhere didthey see any place where they might rest. Toward evening she no longerdared to lie down on the sea, because now it filled up all of a suddenwith large ice-cakes, which struck against each other, and she fearedthey should be crushed between these. A couple of times the wild geesetried to stand on the ice-crust; but one time the wild storm swept theminto the water; another time, the merciless seals came creeping up onthe ice. 

At sundown the wild geese were once more up in the air. They flewon--fearful for the night. The darkness seemed to come upon them muchtoo quickly this night--which was so full of dangers. 

It was terrible that they, as yet, saw no land. How would it go withthem if they were forced to stay out on the sea all night? They wouldeither be crushed between the ice-cakes or devoured by seals orseparated by the storm. 

The heavens were cloud-bedecked, the moon hid itself, and the darknesscame quickly. At the same time all nature was filled with a horror whichcaused the most courageous hearts to quail. Distressed bird-travellers'cries had sounded over the sea all day long, without anyone having paidthe slightest attention to them; but now, when one no longer saw who itwas that uttered them, they seemed mournful and terrifying. Down on thesea, the ice-drifts crashed against each other with a loud rumblingnoise. The seals tuned up their wild hunting songs. It was as thoughheaven and earth were, about to clash. 

THE SHEEP

The boy sat for a moment and looked down into the sea. Suddenly hethought that it began to roar louder than ever. He looked up. Right infront of him--only a couple of metres away--stood a rugged and baremountain-wall. At its base the waves dashed into a foaming spray. Thewild geese flew straight toward the cliff, and the boy did not see howthey could avoid being dashed to pieces against it. Hardly had hewondered that Akka hadn't seen the danger in time, when they were overby the mountain. Then he also noticed that in front of them was thehalf-round entrance to a grotto. Into this the geese steered; and thenext moment they were safe. 

The first thing the wild geese thought of--before they gave themselvestime to rejoice over their safety--was to see if all their comrades werealso harboured. Yes, there were Akka, Iksi, Kolmi, Nelja, Viisi, Knusi, all the six goslings, the goosey-gander, Dunfin and Thumbietot; butKaksi from Nuolja, the first left-hand goose, was missing--and no oneknew anything about her fate. 

When the wild geese discovered that no one but Kaksi had been separatedfrom the flock, they took the matter lightly. Kaksi was old and wise. She knew all their byways and their habits, and she, of course, wouldknow how to find her way back to them. 

Then the wild geese began to look around in the cave. Enough daylightcame in through the opening, so that they could see the grotto was bothdeep and wide. They were delighted to think they had found such a finenight harbour, when one of them caught sight of some shining, greendots, which glittered in a dark corner. "These are eyes!" cried Akka. "There are big animals in here. " They rushed toward the opening, butThumbietot called to them: "There is nothing to run away from! It's onlya few sheep who are lying alongside the grotto wall. "

When the wild geese had accustomed themselves to the dim daylight in thegrotto, they saw the sheep very distinctly. The grown-up ones might beabout as many as there were geese; but beside these there were a fewlittle lambs. An old ram with long, twisted horns appeared to be themost lordly one of the flock. The wild geese went up to him with muchbowing and scraping. "Well met in the wilderness!" they greeted, but thebig ram lay still, and did not speak a word of welcome. 

Then the wild geese thought that the sheep were displeased because theyhad taken shelter in their grotto. "It is perhaps not permissible thatwe have come in here?" said Akka. "But we cannot help it, for we arewind-driven. We have wandered about in the storm all day, and it wouldbe very good to be allowed to stop here to-night. " After that a longtime passed before any of the sheep answered with words; but, on theother hand, it could be heard distinctly that a pair of them heaved deepsighs. Akka knew, to be sure, that sheep are always shy and peculiar;but these seemed to have no idea of how they should conduct themselves. Finally an old ewe, who had a long and pathetic face and a dolefulvoice, said: "There isn't one among us that refuses to let you stay; butthis is a house of mourning, and we cannot receive guests as we did informer days. " "You needn't worry about anything of that sort, " saidAkka. "If you knew what we have endured this day, you would surelyunderstand that we are satisfied if we only get a safe spot to sleepon. "

When Akka said this, the old ewe raised herself. "I believe that itwould be better for you to fly about in the worst storm than to stophere. But, at least, you shall not go from here before we have had theprivilege of offering you the best hospitality which the house affords. "

She conducted them to a hollow in the ground, which was filled withwater. Beside it lay a pile of bait and husks and chaff; and she badethem make the most of these. "We have had a severe snow-winter thisyear, on the island, " she said. "The peasants who own us came out to uswith hay and oaten straw, so we shouldn't starve to death. And thistrash is all there is left of the good cheer. "

The geese rushed to the food instantly. They thought that they had faredwell, and were in their best humour. They must have observed, of course, that the sheep were anxious; but they knew how easily scared sheepgenerally are, and didn't believe there was any actual danger on foot. As soon as they had eaten, they intended to stand up to sleep as usual. But then the big ram got up, and walked over to them. The geese thoughtthat they had never seen a sheep with such big and coarse horns. Inother respects, also, he was noticeable. He had a high, rollingforehead, intelligent eyes, and a good bearing--as though he were aproud and courageous animal. 

"I cannot assume the responsibility of letting you geese remain, withouttelling you that it is unsafe here, " said he. "We cannot receive nightguests just now. " At last Akka began to comprehend that this wasserious. "We shall go away, since you really wish it, " said she. "Butwon't you tell us first, what it is that troubles you? We know nothingabout it. We do not even know where we are. " "This is Little Karl'sIsland!" said the ram. "It lies outside of Gottland, and only sheep andseabirds live here. " "Perhaps you are wild sheep?" said Akka. "We're notfar removed from it, " replied the ram. "We have nothing to do with humanbeings. It's an old agreement between us and some peasants on a farm inGottland, that they shall supply us with fodder in case we havesnow-winter; and as a recompense they are permitted to take away thoseof us who become superfluous. The island is small, so it cannot feedvery many of us. But otherwise we take care of ourselves all the yearround, and we do not live in houses with doors and locks, but we residein grottoes like these. "

"Do you stay out here in the winter as well?" asked Akka, surprised. "Wedo, " answered the ram. "We have good fodder up here on the mountain, allthe year around. " "I think it sounds as if you might have it better thanother sheep, " said Akka. "But what is the misfortune that has befallenyou?" "It was bitter cold last winter. The sea froze, and then threefoxes came over here on the ice, and here they have been ever since. Otherwise, there are no dangerous animals here on the island. " "Oh, oh!do foxes dare to attack such as you?" "Oh, no! not during the day; thenI can protect myself and mine, " said the ram, shaking his horns. "Butthey sneak upon us at night when we sleep in the grottoes. We try tokeep awake, but one must sleep some of the time; and then they come uponus. They have already killed every sheep in the other grottoes, andthere were herds that were just as large as mine. "

"It isn't pleasant to tell that we are so helpless, " said the old ewe. "We cannot help ourselves any better than if we were tame sheep. " "Doyou think that they will come here to-night?" asked Akka. "There isnothing else in store for us, " answered the old ewe. "They were herelast night, and stole a lamb from us. They'll be sure to come again, aslong as there are any of us alive. This is what they have done in theother places. " "But if they are allowed to keep this up, you'll becomeentirely exterminated, " said Akka. "Oh! it won't be long before it isall over with the sheep on Little Karl's Island, " said the ewe. 

Akka stood there hesitatingly. It was not pleasant, by any means, toventure out in the storm again, and it wasn't good to remain in a housewhere such guests were expected. When she had pondered a while, sheturned to Thumbietot. "I wonder if you will help us, as you have done somany times before, " said she. Yes, that he would like to do, he replied. "It is a pity for you not to get any sleep!" said the wild goose, "but Iwonder if you are able to keep awake until the foxes come, and then toawaken us, so we may fly away. " The boy was so very glad of this--foranything was better than to go out in the storm again--so he promisedto keep awake. He went down to the grotto opening, crawled in behind astone, that he might be shielded from the storm, and sat down to watch. 

When the boy had been sitting there a while, the storm seemed to abate. The sky grew clear, and the moonlight began to play on the waves. Theboy stepped to the opening to look out. The grotto was rather high up onthe mountain. A narrow path led to it. It was probably here that he mustawait the foxes. 

As yet he saw no foxes; but, on the other hand, there was somethingwhich, for the moment, terrified him much more. On the land-strip belowthe mountain stood some giants, or other stone-trolls--or perhaps theywere actual human beings. At first he thought that he was dreaming, butnow he was positive that he had not fallen asleep. He saw the big men sodistinctly that it couldn't be an illusion. Some of them stood on theland-strip, and others right on the mountain just as if they intended toclimb it. Some had big, thick heads; others had no heads at all. Somewere one-armed, and some had humps both before and behind. He had neverseen anything so extraordinary. 

The boy stood and worked himself into a state of panic because of thosetrolls, so that he almost forgot to keep his eye peeled for the foxes. But now he heard a claw scrape against a stone. He saw three foxescoming up the steep; and as soon as he knew that he had something realto deal with, he was calm again, and not the least bit scared. It struckhim that it was a pity to awaken only the geese, and to leave the sheepto their fate. He thought he would like to arrange things some otherway. 

He ran quickly to the other end of the grotto, shook the big ram's hornsuntil he awoke, and, at the same time, swung himself upon his back. "Getup, sheep, and well try to frighten the foxes a bit!" said the boy. 

He had tried to be as quiet as possible, but the foxes must have heardsome noise; for when they came up to the mouth of the grotto theystopped and deliberated. "It was certainly someone in there thatmoved, " said one. "I wonder if they are awake. " "Oh, go ahead, you!"said another. "At all events, they can't do anything to us. "

When they came farther in, in the grotto, they stopped and sniffed. "Whoshall we take to-night?" whispered the one who went first. "To-night wewill take the big ram, " said the last. "After that, we'll have easy workwith the rest. "

The boy sat on the old ram's back and saw how they sneaked along. "Nowbutt straight forward!" whispered the boy. The ram butted, and the firstfox was thrust--top over tail--back to the opening. "Now butt to theleft!" said the boy, and turned the big ram's head in that direction. The ram measured a terrific assault that caught the second fox in theside. He rolled around several times before he got to his feet again andmade his escape. The boy had wished that the third one, too, might havegotten a bump, but this one had already gone. 

"Now I think that they've had enough for to-night, " said the boy. "Ithink so too, " said the big ram. "Now lie down on my back, and creepinto the wool! You deserve to have it warm and comfortable, after allthe wind and storm that you have been out in. "

HELL'S HOLE

The next day the big ram went around with the boy on his back, andshowed him the island. It consisted of a single massive mountain. It waslike a large house with perpendicular walls and a flat roof. First theram walked up on the mountain-roof and showed the boy the good grazinglands there, and he had to admit that the island seemed to be especiallycreated for sheep. There wasn't much else than sheep-sorrel and suchlittle spicy growths as sheep are fond of that grew on the mountain. 

But indeed there was something beside sheep fodder to look at, for onewho had gotten well up on the steep. To begin with, the largest part ofthe sea--which now lay blue and sunlit, and rolled forward in glitteringswells--was visible. Only upon one and another point, did the foam sprayup. To the east lay Gottland, with even and long-stretched coast; and tothe southwest lay Great Karl's Island, which was built on the same planas the little island. When the ram walked to the very edge of themountain roof, so the boy could look down the mountain walls, he noticedthat they were simply filled with birds' nests; and in the blue seabeneath him, lay surf-scoters and eider-ducks and kittiwakes andguillemots and razor-bills--so pretty and peaceful--busying themselveswith fishing for small herring. 

"This is really a favoured land, " said the boy. "You live in a prettyplace, you sheep. " "Oh, yes! it's pretty enough here, " said the big ram. It was as if he wished to add something; but he did not, only sighed. "If you go about here alone you must look out for the crevices which runall around the mountain, " he continued after a little. And this was agood warning, for there were deep and broad crevices in several places. The largest of them was called Hell's Hole. That crevice was manyfathoms deep and nearly one fathom wide. "If anyone fell down there, itwould certainly be the last of him, " said the big ram. The boy thoughtit sounded as if he had a special meaning in what he said. 

Then he conducted the boy down to the narrow strip of shore. Now hecould see those giants which had frightened him the night before, atclose range. They were nothing but tall rock-pillars. The big ram calledthem "cliffs. " The boy couldn't see enough of them. He thought that ifthere had ever been any trolls who had turned into stone they ought tolook just like that. 

Although it was pretty down on the shore, the boy liked it still betteron the mountain height. It was ghastly down here; for everywhere theycame across dead sheep. It was here that the foxes had held theirorgies. He saw skeletons whose flesh had been eaten, and bodies thatwere half-eaten, and others which they had scarcely tasted, but hadallowed to lie untouched. It was heart-rending to see how the wildbeasts had thrown themselves upon the sheep just for sport--just tohunt them and tear them to death. 

The big ram did not pause in front of the dead, but walked by them insilence. But the boy, meanwhile, could not help seeing all the horror. 

Then the big ram went up on the mountain height again; but when he wasthere he stopped and said: "If someone who is capable and wise could seeall the misery which prevails here, he surely would not be able to restuntil these foxes had been punished. " "The foxes must live, too, " saidthe boy. "Yes, " said the big ram, "those who do not tear in pieces moreanimals than they need for their sustenance, they may as well live. Butthese are felons. " "The peasants who own the island ought to come hereand help you, " insisted the boy. "They have rowed over a number oftimes, " replied the ram, "but the foxes always hid themselves in thegrottoes and crevices, so they could not get near them, to shoot them. ""You surely cannot mean, father, that a poor little creature like meshould be able to get at them, when neither you nor the peasants havesucceeded in getting the better of them. " "He that is little and sprycan put many things to rights, " said the big ram. 

They talked no more about this, and the boy went over and seated himselfamong the wild geese who fed on the highland. Although he had not caredto show his feelings before the ram, he was very sad on the sheep'saccount, and he would have been glad to help them. "I can at least talkwith Akka and Morten goosey-gander about the matter, " thought he. "Perhaps they can help me with a good suggestion. "

A little later the white goosey-gander took the boy on his back and wentover the mountain plain, and in the direction of Hell's Hole at that. 

He wandered, care-free, on the open mountain roof--apparentlyunconscious of how large and white he was. He didn't seek protectionbehind tufts, or any other protuberances, but went straight ahead. Itwas strange that he was not more careful, for it was apparent that hehad fared badly in yesterday's storm. He limped on his right leg, andthe left wing hung and dragged as if it might be broken. 

He acted as if there were no danger, pecked at a grass-blade here andanother there, and did not look about him in any direction. The boy laystretched out full length on the goose-back, and looked up toward theblue sky. He was so accustomed to riding now, that he could both standand lie down on the goose-back. 

When the goosey-gander and the boy were so care-free, they did notobserve, of course, that the three foxes had come up on the mountainplain. 

And the foxes, who knew that it was well-nigh impossible to take thelife of a goose on an open plain, thought at first that they wouldn'tchase after the goosey-gander. But as they had nothing else to do, theyfinally sneaked down on one of the long passes, and tried to steal up tohim. They went about it so cautiously that the goosey-gander couldn'tsee a shadow of them. 

They were not far off when the goosey-gander made an attempt to raisehimself into the air. He spread his wings, but he did not succeed inlifting himself. When the foxes seemed to grasp the fact that hecouldn't fly, they hurried forward with greater eagerness than before. They no longer concealed themselves in the cleft, but came up on thehighland. They hurried as fast as they could, behind tufts and hollows, and came nearer and nearer the goosey-gander--without his seeming tonotice that he was being hunted. At last the foxes were so near thatthey could make the final leap. Simultaneously, all three threwthemselves with one long jump at the goosey-gander. 

But still at the last moment he must have noticed something, for he ranout of the way, so the foxes missed him. This, at any rate, didn't meanvery much, for the goosey-gander only had a couple of metres headway, and, in the bargain, he limped. Anyway, the poor thing ran ahead as fastas he could. 

The boy sat upon the goose-back--backward--and shrieked and called tothe foxes. "You have eaten yourselves too fat on mutton, foxes. Youcan't catch up with a goose even. " He teased them so that they becamecrazed with rage and thought only of rushing forward. 

The white one ran right straight to the big cleft. When he was there, hemade one stroke with his wings, and got over. Just then the foxes werealmost upon him. 

The goosey-gander hurried on with the same haste as before, even afterhe had gotten across Hell's Hole. But he had hardly been running twometres before the boy patted him on the neck, and said: "Now you canstop, goosey-gander. "

At that instant they heard a number of wild howls behind them, and ascraping of claws, and heavy falls. But of the foxes they saw nothingmore. 

The next morning the lighthouse keeper on Great Karl's Island found abit of bark poked under the entrance-door, and on it had been cut, inslanting, angular letters: "The foxes on the little island have fallendown into Hell's Hole. Take care of them!"

And this the lighthouse keeper did, too. 

TWO CITIES

THE CITY AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA

_Saturday, April ninth_. 

It was a calm and clear night. The wild geese did not trouble themselvesto seek shelter in any of the grottoes, but stood and slept upon themountain top; and the boy had lain down in the short, dry grass besidethe geese. 

It was bright moonlight that night; so bright that it was difficult forthe boy to go to sleep. He lay there and thought about just how long hehad been away from home; and he figured out that it was three weekssince he had started on the trip. At the same time he remembered thatthis was Easter-eve. 

"It is to-night that all the witches come home from Blakulla, " thoughthe, and laughed to himself. For he was just a little afraid of both thesea-nymph and the elf, but he didn't believe in witches the least littlebit. 

If there had been any witches out that night, he should have seen them, to be sure. It was so light in the heavens that not the tiniest blackspeck could move in the air without his seeing it. 

While the boy lay there with his nose in the air and thought about this, his eye rested on something lovely! The moon's disc was whole and round, and rather high, and over it a big bird came flying. He did not fly pastthe moon, but he moved just as though he might have flown out from it. The bird looked black against the light background, and the wingsextended from one rim of the disc to the other. He flew on, evenly, inthe same direction, and the boy thought that he was painted on themoon's disc. The body was small, the neck long and slender, the legshung down, long and thin. It couldn't be anything but a stork. 

A couple of seconds later Herr Ermenrich, the stork, lit beside the boy. He bent down and poked him with his bill to awaken him. 

Instantly the boy sat up. "I'm not asleep, Herr Ermenrich, " he said. "How does it happen that you are out in the middle of the night, and howis everything at Glimminge castle? Do you want to speak with motherAkka?"

"It's too light to sleep to-night, " answered Herr Ermenrich. "ThereforeI concluded to travel over here to Karl's Island and hunt you up, friendThumbietot. I learned from the seamew that you were spending the nighthere. I have not as yet moved over to Glimminge castle, but am stillliving at Pommern. "

The boy was simply overjoyed to think that Herr Ermenrich had sought himout. They chatted about all sorts of things, like old friends. At lastthe stork asked the boy if he wouldn't like to go out riding for a whileon this beautiful night. 

Oh, yes! that the boy wanted to do, if the stork would manage it so thathe got back to the wild geese before sunrise. This he promised, so offthey went. 

Again Herr Ermenrich flew straight toward the moon. They rose and rose;the sea sank deep down, but the flight went so light and easy that itseemed almost as if the boy lay still in the air. 

When Herr Ermenrich began to descend, the boy thought that the flighthad lasted an unreasonably short time. 

They landed on a desolate bit of seashore, which was covered with fine, even sand. All along the coast ran a row of flying-sand drifts, withlyme-grass on their tops. They were not very high, but they preventedthe boy from seeing any of the island. 

Herr Ermenrich stood on a sand-hill, drew up one leg and bent his headbackward, so he could stick his bill under the wing. "You can roamaround on the shore for a while, " he said to Thumbietot, "while I restmyself. But don't go so far away but what you can find your way back tome again!"

To start with, the boy intended to climb a sand-hill and see how theland behind it looked. But when he had walked a couple of paces, hestubbed the toe of his wooden shoe against something hard. He stoopeddown, and saw that a small copper coin lay on the sand, and was so wornwith verdigris that it was almost transparent. It was so poor that hedidn't even bother to pick it up, but only kicked it out of the way. 

But when he straightened himself up once more he was perfectlyastounded, for two paces away from him stood a high, dark wall with abig, turreted gate. 

The moment before, when the boy bent down, the sea lay there--shimmeringand smooth, while now it was hidden by a long wall with towers andbattlements. Directly in front of him, where before there had been onlya few sea-weed banks, the big gate of the wall opened. 

The boy probably understood that it was a spectre-play of some sort; butthis was nothing to be afraid of, thought he. It wasn't any dangeroustrolls, or any other evil--such as he always dreaded to encounter atnight. Both the wall and the gate were so beautifully constructed thathe only desired to see what there might be back of them. "I must findout what this can be, " thought he, and went in through the gate. 

In the deep archway there were guards, dressed in brocaded and purredsuits, with long-handled spears beside them, who sat and threw dice. They thought only of the game, and took no notice of the boy who hurriedpast them quickly. 

Just within the gate he found an open space, paved with large, evenstone blocks. All around this were high and magnificent buildings; andbetween these opened long, narrow streets. On the square--facing thegate--it fairly swarmed with human beings. The men wore long, fur-trimmed capes over satin suits; plume-bedecked hats sat obliquely ontheir heads; on their chests hung superb chains. They were all soregally gotten up that the whole lot of them might have been kings. 

The women went about in high head-dresses and long robes withtight-fitting sleeves. They, too, were beautifully dressed, but theirsplendour was not to be compared with that of the men. 

This was exactly like the old story-book which mother took from thechest--only once--and showed to him. The boy simply couldn't believe hiseyes. 

But that which was even more wonderful to look upon than either the menor the women, was the city itself. Every house was built in such a waythat a gable faced the street. And the gables were so highly ornamented, that one could believe they wished to compete with each other as towhich one could show the most beautiful decorations. 

When one suddenly sees so much that is new, he cannot manage to treasureit all in his memory. But at least the boy could recall that he had seenstairway gables on the various landings, which bore images of the Christand his Apostles; gables, where there were images in niche after nicheall along the wall; gables that were inlaid with multi-coloured bits ofglass, and gables that were striped and checked with white and blackmarble. As the boy admired all this, a sudden sense of haste came overhim. "Anything like this my eyes have never seen before. Anything likethis, they would never see again, " he said to himself. And he began torun in toward the city--up one street, and down another. 

The streets were straight and narrow, but not empty and gloomy, as theywere in the cities with which he was familiar. There were peopleeverywhere. Old women sat by their open doors and spun without aspinning-wheel--only with the help of a shuttle. The merchants' shopswere like market-stalls--opening on the street. All the hand-workers didtheir work out of doors. In one place they were boiling crude oil; inanother tanning hides; in a third there was a long rope-walk. 

If only the boy had had time enough he could have learned how to makeall sorts of things. Here he saw how armourers hammered out thinbreast-plates; how turners tended their irons; how the shoemakers soledsoft, red shoes; how the gold-wire drawers twisted gold thread, and howthe weavers inserted silver and gold into their weaving. 

But the boy did not have the time to stay. He just rushed on, so that hecould manage to see as much as possible before it would all vanishagain. 

The high wall ran all around the city and shut it in, as a hedge shutsin a field. He saw it at the end of every street--gable-ornamented andcrenelated. On the top of the wall walked warriors in shining armour;and when he had run from one end of the city to the other, he came tostill another gate in the wall. Outside of this lay the sea andharbour. The boy saw olden-time ships, with rowing-benches straightacross, and high structures fore and aft. Some lay and took on cargo, others were just casting anchor. Carriers and merchants hurried aroundeach other. All over, it was life and bustle. 

But not even here did he seem to have the time to linger. He rushed intothe city again; and now he came up to the big square. There stood thecathedral with its three high towers and deep vaulted arches filled withimages. The walls had been so highly decorated by sculptors that therewas not a stone without its own special ornamentation. And what amagnificent display of gilded crosses and gold-trimmed altars andpriests in golden vestments, shimmered through the open gate! Directlyopposite the church there was a house with a notched roof and a singleslender, sky-high tower. That was probably the courthouse. And betweenthe courthouse and the cathedral, all around the square, stood thebeautiful gabled houses with their multiplicity of adornments. 

The boy had run himself both warm and tired. He thought that now he hadseen the most remarkable things, and therefore he began to walk moreleisurely. The street which he had turned into now was surely the onewhere the inhabitants purchased their fine clothing. He saw crowds ofpeople standing before the little stalls where the merchants spreadbrocades, stiff satins, heavy gold cloth, shimmery velvet, delicateveiling, and laces as sheer as a spider's web. 

Before, when the boy ran so fast, no one had paid any attention to him. The people must have thought that it was only a little gray rat thatdarted by them. But now, when he walked down the street, very slowly, one of the salesmen caught sight of him, and began to beckon to him. 

At first the boy was uneasy and wanted to hurry out of the way, but thesalesman only beckoned and smiled, and spread out on the counter alovely piece of satin damask as if he wanted to tempt him. 

The boy shook his head. "I will never be so rich that I can buy even ametre of that cloth, " thought he. 

But now they had caught sight of him in every stall, all along thestreet. Wherever he looked stood a salesman and beckoned to him. Theyleft their costly wares, and thought only of him. He saw how theyhurried into the most hidden corner of the stall to fetch the best thatthey had to sell, and how their hands trembled with eagerness and hasteas they laid it upon the counter. 

When the boy continued to go on, one of the merchants jumped over thecounter, caught hold of him, and spread before him silver cloth andwoven tapestries, which shone with brilliant colours. 

The boy couldn't do anything but laugh at him. The salesman certainlymust understand that a poor little creature like him couldn't buy suchthings. He stood still and held out his two empty hands, so they wouldunderstand that he had nothing and let him go in peace. 

But the merchant raised a finger and nodded and pushed the whole pile ofbeautiful things over to him. 

"Can he mean that he will sell all this for a gold piece?" wondered theboy. 

The merchant brought out a tiny worn and poor coin--the smallest thatone could see--and showed it to him. And he was so eager to sell thathe increased his pile with a pair of large, heavy, silver goblets. 

Then the boy began to dig down in his pockets. He knew, of course, thathe didn't possess a single coin, but he couldn't help feeling for it. 

All the other merchants stood still and tried to see how the sale wouldcome off, and when they observed that the boy began to search in hispockets, they flung themselves over the counters, filled their handsfull of gold and silver ornaments, and offered them to him. And they allshowed him that what they asked in payment was just one little penny. 

But the boy turned both vest and breeches pockets inside out, so theyshould see that he owned nothing. Then tears filled the eyes of allthese regal merchants, who were so much richer than he. At last he wasmoved because they looked so distressed, and he pondered if he could notin some way help them. And then he happened to think of the rusty coin, which he had but lately seen on the strand. 

He started to run down the street, and luck was with him so that he cameto the self-same gate which he had happened upon first. He dashedthrough it, and commenced to search for the little green copper pennywhich lay on the strand a while ago. 

He found it too, very promptly; but when he had picked it up, and wantedto run back to the city with it--he saw only the sea before him. No citywall, no gate, no sentinels, no streets, no houses could now beseen--only the sea. 

The boy couldn't help that the tears came to his eyes. He had believedin the beginning, that that which he saw was nothing but anhallucination, but this he had already forgotten. He only thought abouthow pretty everything was. He felt a genuine, deep sorrow because thecity had vanished. 

That moment Herr Ermenrich awoke, and came up to him. But he didn't hearhim, and the stork had to poke the boy with his bill to attractattention to himself. "I believe that you stand here and sleep just as Ido, " said Herr Ermenrich. 

"Oh, Herr Ermenrich!" said the boy. "What was that city which stoodhere just now?"

"Have you seen a city?" said the stork. "You have slept and dreamt, as Isay. "

"No! I have not dreamt, " said Thumbietot, and he told the stork all thathe had experienced. 

Then Herr Ermenrich said: "For my part, Thumbietot, I believe that youfell asleep here on the strand and dreamed all this. 

"But I will not conceal from you that Bataki, the raven, who is the mostlearned of all birds, once told me that in former times there was a cityon this shore, called Vineta. It was so rich and so fortunate, that nocity has ever been more glorious; but its inhabitants, unluckily, gavethemselves up to arrogance and love of display. As a punishment forthis, says Bataki, the city of Vineta was overtaken by a flood, and sankinto the sea. But its inhabitants cannot die, neither is their citydestroyed. And one night in every hundred years, it rises in all itssplendour up from the sea, and remains on the surface just one hour. "

"Yes, it must be so, " said Thumbietot, "for this I have seen. "

"But when the hour is up, it sinks again into the sea, if, during thattime, no merchant in Vineta has sold anything to a single livingcreature. If you, Thumbietot, only had had an ever so tiny coin, to paythe merchants, Vineta might have remained up here on the shore; and itspeople could have lived and died like other human beings. "

"Herr Ermenrich, " said the boy, "now I understand why you came andfetched me in the middle of the night. It was because you believed thatI should be able to save the old city. I am so sorry it didn't turn outas you wished, Herr Ermenrich. "

He covered his face with his hands and wept. It wasn't easy to say whichone looked the more disconsolate--the boy, or Herr Ermenrich. 

THE LIVING CITY

_Monday, April eleventh_. 

On the afternoon of Easter Monday, the wild geese and Thumbietot were onthe wing. They travelled over Gottland. 

The large island lay smooth and even beneath them. The ground waschecked just as it was in Skåne and there were many churches and farms. But there was this difference, however, that there were more leafymeadows between the fields here, and then the farms were not built upwith small houses. And there were no large manors with ancienttower-ornamented castles. 

The wild geese had taken the route over Gottland on account ofThumbietot. He had been altogether unlike himself for two days, andhadn't spoken a cheerful word. This was because he had thought ofnothing but that city which had appeared to him in such a strange way. He had never seen anything so magnificent and royal, and he could not bereconciled with himself for having failed to save it. Usually he was notchicken-hearted, but now he actually grieved for the beautiful buildingsand the stately people. 

Both Akka and the goosey-gander tried to convince Thumbietot that he hadbeen the victim of a dream, or an hallucination, but the boy wouldn'tlisten to anything of that sort. He was so positive that he had reallyseen what he had seen, that no one could move him from this conviction. He went about so disconsolate that his travelling companions becameuneasy for him. 

Just as the boy was the most depressed, old Kaksi came back to theflock. She had been blown toward Gottland, and had been compelled totravel over the whole island before she had learned through some crowsthat her comrades were on Little Karl's Island. When Kaksi found outwhat was wrong with Thumbietot, she said impulsively:

"If Thumbietot is grieving over an old city, we'll soon be able tocomfort him. Just come along, and I'll take you to a place that I sawyesterday! You will not need to be distressed very long. "

Thereupon the geese had taken farewell of the sheep, and were on theirway to the place which Kaksi wished to show Thumbietot. As blue as hewas, he couldn't keep from looking at the land over which he travelled, as usual. 

He thought it looked as though the whole island had in the beginningbeen just such a high, steep cliff as Karl's Island--though much biggerof course. But afterward, it had in some way been flattened out. Someonehad taken a big rolling-pin and rolled over it, as if it had been a lumpof dough. Not that the island had become altogether flat and even, likea bread-cake, for it wasn't like that. While they had travelled alongthe coast, he had seen white lime walls with grottoes and crags, inseveral directions; but in most of the places they were levelled, andsank inconspicuously down toward the sea. 

In Gottland they had a pleasant and peaceful holiday afternoon. Itturned out to be mild spring weather; the trees had large buds; springblossoms dressed the ground in the leafy meadows; the poplars' long, thin pendants swayed; and in the little gardens, which one finds aroundevery cottage, the gooseberry bushes were green. 

The warmth and the spring-budding had tempted the people out into thegardens and roads, and wherever a number of them were gathered togetherthey were playing. It was not the children alone who played, but thegrown-ups also. They were throwing stones at a given point, and theythrew balls in the air with such exact aim that they almost touched thewild geese. It looked cheerful and pleasant to see big folks at play;and the boy certainly would have enjoyed it, if he had been able toforget his grief because he had failed to save the city. 

Anyway, he had to admit that this was a lovely trip. There was so muchsinging and sound in the air. Little children played ring games, andsang as they played. The Salvation Army was out. He saw a lot of peopledressed in black and red--sitting upon a wooded hill, playing on guitarsand brass instruments. On one road came a great crowd of people. Theywere Good Templars who had been on a pleasure trip. He recognized themby the big banners with the gold inscriptions which waved above them. They sang song after song as long as he could hear them. 

After that the boy could never think of Gottland without thinking of thegames and songs at the same time. 

He had been sitting and looking down for a long while; but now hehappened to raise his eyes. No one can describe his amazement. Before hewas aware of it, the wild geese had left the interior of the island andgone westward--toward the sea-coast. Now the wide, blue sea lay beforehim. However, it was not the sea that was remarkable, but a city whichappeared on the sea-shore. 

The boy came from the east, and the sun had just begun to go down in thewest. When he came nearer the city, its walls and towers and high, gabled houses and churches stood there, perfectly black, against thelight evening sky. He couldn't see therefore what it really looked like, and for a couple of moments he believed that this city was just asbeautiful as the one he had seen on Easter night. 

When he got right up to it, he saw that it was both like and unlike thatcity from the bottom of the sea. There was the same contrast betweenthem, as there is between a man whom one sees arrayed in purple andjewels one day, and on another day one sees him dressed in rags. 

Yes, this city had probably, once upon a time, been like the one whichhe sat and thought about. This one, also, was enclosed by a wall withtowers and gates. But the towers in this city, which had been allowed toremain on land, were roofless, hollow and empty. The gates were withoutdoors; sentinels and warriors had disappeared. All the glitteringsplendour was gone. There was nothing left but the naked, gray stoneskeleton. 

When the boy came farther into the city, he saw that the larger part ofit was made up of small, low houses; but here and there were still a fewhigh gabled houses and a few cathedrals, which were from the olden time. The walls of the gabled houses were whitewashed, and entirely withoutornamentation; but because the boy had so lately seen the buried city, he seemed to understand how they had been decorated: some with statues, and others with black and white marble. And it was the same with the oldcathedrals; the majority of them were roofless with bare interiors. Thewindow openings were empty, the floors were grass-grown, and ivyclambered along the walls. But now he knew how they had looked at onetime; that they had been covered with images and paintings; that thechancel had had trimmed altars and gilded crosses, and that theirpriests had moved about, arrayed in gold vestments. 

The boy saw also the narrow streets, which were almost deserted onholiday afternoons. He knew, he did, what a stream of stately people hadonce upon a time sauntered about on them. He knew that they had beenlike large workshops--filled with all sorts of workmen. 

But that which Nils Holgersson did not see was, that the city--evento-day--was both beautiful and remarkable. He saw neither the cheerycottages on the side streets, with their black walls, and white bows andred pelargoniums behind the shining window-panes, nor the many prettygardens and avenues, nor the beauty in the weed-clad ruins. His eyeswere so filled with the preceding glory, that he could not see anythinggood in the present. 

The wild geese flew back and forth over the city a couple of times, sothat Thumbietot might see everything. Finally they sank down on thegrass-grown floor of a cathedral ruin to spend the night. 

When they had arranged themselves for sleep, Thumbietot was still awakeand looked up through the open arches, to the pale pink evening sky. When he had been sitting there a while, he thought he didn't want togrieve any more because he couldn't save the buried city. 

No, that he didn't want to do, now that he had seen this one. If thatcity, which he had seen, had not sunk into the sea again, then it wouldperhaps become as dilapidated as this one in a little while. Perhaps itcould not have withstood time and decay, but would have stood there withroofless churches and bare houses and desolate, empty streets--just likethis one. Then it was better that it should remain in all its glory downin the deep. 

"It was best that it happened as it happened, " thought he. "If I had thepower to save the city, I don't believe that I should care to do it. "Then he no longer grieved over that matter. 

And there are probably many among the young who think in the same way. But when people are old, and have become accustomed to being satisfiedwith little, then they are more happy over the Visby that exists, thanover a magnificent Vineta at the bottom of the sea. 

THE LEGEND OF SMÅLAND

_Tuesday, April twelfth_. 

The wild geese had made a good trip over the sea, and had lighted inTjust Township, in northern Småland. That township didn't seem able tomake up its mind whether it wanted to be land or sea. Fiords ran ineverywhere, and cut the land up into islands and peninsulas and pointsand capes. The sea was so forceful that the only things which could holdthemselves above it were hills and mountains. All the lowlands werehidden away under the water exterior. 

It was evening when the wild geese came in from the sea; and the landwith the little hills lay prettily between the shimmering fiords. Hereand there, on the islands, the boy saw cabins and cottages; and thefarther inland he came, the bigger and better became the dwellinghouses. Finally, they grew into large, white manors. Along the shoresthere was generally a border of trees; and within this lay field-plots, and on the tops of the little hills there were trees again. He could nothelp but think of Blekinge. Here again was a place where land and seamet, in such a pretty and peaceful sort of way, just as if they tried toshow each other the best and loveliest which they possessed. 

The wild geese alighted upon a limestone island a good way in onGoose-fiord. With the first glance at the shore they observed thatspring had made rapid strides while they had been away on the islands. The big, fine trees were not as yet leaf-clad, but the ground under themwas brocaded with white anemones, gagea, and blue anemones. 

When the wild geese saw the flower-carpet they feared that they hadlingered too long in the southern part of the country. Akka saidinstantly that there was no time in which to hunt up any of the stoppingplaces in Småland. By the next morning they must travel northward, overÖstergötland. 

The boy should then see nothing of Småland, and this grieved him. He hadheard more about Småland than he had about any other province, and hehad longed to see it with his own eyes. 

The summer before, when he had served as goose-boy with a farmer in theneighbourhood of Jordberga, he had met a pair of Småland children, almost every day, who also tended geese. These children had irritatedhim terribly with their Småland. 

It wasn't fair to say that Osa, the goose-girl, had annoyed him. She wasmuch too wise for that. But the one who could be aggravating with avengeance was her brother, little Mats. 

"Have you heard, Nils Goose-boy, how it went when Småland and Skåne werecreated?" he would ask, and if Nils Holgersson said no, he beganimmediately to relate the old joke-legend. 

"Well, it was at that time when our Lord was creating the world. Whilehe was doing his best work, Saint Peter came walking by. He stopped andlooked on, and then he asked if it was hard to do. 'Well, it isn'texactly easy, ' said our Lord. Saint Peter stood there a little longer, and when he noticed how easy it was to lay out one landscape afteranother, he too wanted to try his hand at it. 'Perhaps you need to restyourself a little, ' said Saint Peter, 'I could attend to the work inthe meantime for you. ' But this our Lord did not wish. 'I do not know ifyou are so much at home in this art that I can trust you to take holdwhere I leave off, ' he answered. Then Saint Peter was angry, and saidthat he believed he could create just as fine countries as our Lordhimself. 

"It happened that our Lord was just then creating Småland. It wasn'teven half-ready but it looked as though it would be an indescribablypretty and fertile land. It was difficult for our Lord to say no toSaint Peter, and aside from this, he thought very likely that a thing sowell begun no one could spoil. Therefore he said: If you like, we willprove which one of us two understands this sort of work the better. You, who are only a novice, shall go on with this which I have begun, and Iwill create a new land. ' To this Saint Peter agreed at once; and so theywent to work--each one in his place. 

"Our Lord moved southward a bit, and there he undertook to create Skåne. It wasn't long before he was through with it, and soon he asked if SaintPeter had finished, and would come and look at his work. 'I had mineready long ago, ' said Saint Peter; and from the sound of his voice itcould be heard how pleased he was with what he had accomplished. 

"When Saint Peter saw Skåne, he had to acknowledge that there wasnothing but good to be said of that land. It was a fertile land and easyto cultivate, with wide plains wherever one looked, and hardly a sign ofhills. It was evident that our Lord had really contemplated making itsuch that people should feel at home there. 'Yes, this is a goodcountry, ' said Saint Peter, 'but I think that mine is better. ' 'Thenwe'll take a look at it, ' said our Lord. 

"The land was already finished in the north and east when Saint Peterbegan the work, but the southern and western parts; and the wholeinterior, he had created all by himself. Now when our Lord came upthere, where Saint Peter had been at work, he was so horrified that hestopped short and exclaimed: 'What on earth have you been doing withthis land, Saint Peter?'

"Saint Peter, too, stood and looked around--perfectly astonished. Hehad had the idea that nothing could be so good for a land as a greatdeal of warmth. Therefore he had gathered together an enormous mass ofstones and mountains, and erected a highland, and this he had done sothat it should be near the sun, and receive much help from the sun'sheat. Over the stone-heaps he had spread a thin layer of soil, and thenhe had thought that everything was well arranged. 

"But while he was down in Skåne, a couple of heavy showers had come up, and more was not needed to show what his work amounted to. When ourLord came to inspect the land, all the soil had been washed away, andthe naked mountain foundation shone forth all over. Where it was aboutthe best, lay clay and heavy gravel over the rocks, but it looked sopoor that it was easy to understand that hardly anything except spruceand juniper and moss and heather could grow there. But what there wasplenty of was water. It had filled up all the clefts in the mountain;and lakes and rivers and brooks; these one saw everywhere, to saynothing of swamps and morasses, which spread over large tracts. And themost exasperating thing of all was, that while some tracts had too muchwater, it was so scarce in others, that whole fields lay like dry moors, where sand and earth whirled up in clouds with the least little breeze. 

"'What can have been your meaning in creating such a land as this?' saidour Lord. Saint Peter made excuses, and declared he had wished to buildup a land so high that it should have plenty of warmth from the sun. 'But then you will also get much of the night chill, ' said our Lord, 'for that too comes from heaven. I am very much afraid the little thatcan grow here will freeze. '

"This, to be sure, Saint Peter hadn't thought about. 

"'Yes, here it will be a poor and frost-bound land, ' said our Lord, 'itcan't be helped. '"

When little Mats had gotten this far in his story, Osa, the goose-girl, protested: "I cannot bear, little Mats, to hear you say that it is somiserable in Småland, " said she. "You forget entirely how much good soilthere is there. Only think of Möre district, by Kalmar Sound! I wonderwhere you'll find a richer grain region. There are fields upon fields, just like here in Skåne. The soil is so good that I cannot imagineanything that couldn't grow there. "

"I can't help that, " said little Mats. "I'm only relating what othershave said before. "

"And I have heard many say that there is not a more beautiful coast landthan Tjust. Think of the bays and islets, and the manors, and thegroves!" said Osa. "Yes, that's true enough, " little Mats admitted. "Anddon't you remember, " continued Osa, "the school teacher said that sucha lively and picturesque district as that bit of Småland which liessouth of Lake Vettern is not to be found in all Sweden? Think of thebeautiful sea and the yellow coast-mountains, and of Grenna andJönköping, with its match factory, and think of Huskvarna, and all thebig establishments there!" "Yes, that's true enough, " said little Matsonce again. "And think of Visingsö, little Mats, with the ruins and theoak forests and the legends! Think of the valley through which Emånflows, with all the villages and flour-mills and sawmills, and thecarpenter shops!" "Yes, that is true enough, " said little Mats, andlooked troubled. 

All of a sudden he had looked up. "Now we are pretty stupid, " said he. "All this, of course, lies in our Lord's Småland, in that part of theland which was already finished when Saint Peter undertook the job. It'sonly natural that it should be pretty and fine there. But in SaintPeter's Småland it looks as it says in the legend. And it wasn'tsurprising that our Lord was distressed when he saw it, " continuedlittle Mats, as he took up the thread of his story again. "Saint Peterdidn't lose his courage, at all events, but tried to comfort our Lord. 'Don't be so grieved over this!' said he. 'Only wait until I havecreated people who can till the swamps and break up fields from thestone hills. '

"That was the end of our Lord's patience--and he said: 'No! you can godown to Skåne and make the Skåninge, but the Smålander I will createmyself. ' And so our Lord created the Smålander, and made himquick-witted and contented and happy and thrifty and enterprising andcapable, that he might be able to get his livelihood in his poorcountry. "

Then little Mats was silent; and if Nils Holgersson had also kept still, all would have gone well; but he couldn't possibly refrain from askinghow Saint Peter had succeeded in creating the Skåninge. 

"Well, what do you think yourself?" said little Mats, and looked soscornful that Nils Holgersson threw himself upon him, to thrash him. ButMats was only a little tot, and Osa, the goose-girl, who was a yearolder than he, ran forward instantly to help him. Good-natured thoughshe was, she sprang like a lion as soon as anyone touched her brother. And Nils Holgersson did not care to fight a girl, but turned his back, and didn't look at those Småland children for the rest of the day. 

THE CROWS

THE EARTHEN CROCK

In the southwest corner of Småland lies a township called Sonnerbo. Itis a rather smooth and even country. And one who sees it in winter, whenit is covered with snow, cannot imagine that there is anything under thesnow but garden-plots, rye-fields and clover-meadows as is generally thecase in flat countries. But, in the beginning of April when the snowfinally melts away in Sonnerbo, it is apparent that that which lieshidden under it is only dry, sandy heaths, bare rocks, and big, marshyswamps. There are fields here and there, to be sure, but they are sosmall that they are scarcely worth mentioning; and one also finds a fewlittle red or gray farmhouses hidden away in some beech-coppice--almostas if they were afraid to show themselves. 

Where Sonnerbo township touches the boundaries of Halland, there is asandy heath which is so far-reaching that he who stands upon one edge ofit cannot look across to the other. Nothing except heather grows on theheath, and it wouldn't be easy either to coax other growths to thrivethere. To start with one would have to uproot the heather; for it isthus with heather: although it has only a little shrunken root, smallshrunken branches, and dry, shrunken leaves it fancies that it's a tree. Therefore it acts just like real trees--spreads itself out in forestfashion over wide areas; holds together faithfully, and causes allforeign growths that wish to crowd in upon its territory to die out. 

The only place on the heath where the heather is not all-powerful, is alow, stony ridge which passes over it. There you'll find juniper bushes, mountain ash, and a few large, fine oaks. At the time when NilsHolgersson travelled around with the wild geese, a little cabin stoodthere, with a bit of cleared ground around it. But the people who hadlived there at one time, had, for some reason or other, moved away. Thelittle cabin was empty, and the ground lay unused. 

When the tenants left the cabin they closed the damper, fastened thewindow-hooks, and locked the door. But no one had thought of the brokenwindow-pane which was only stuffed with a rag. After the showers of acouple of summers, the rag had moulded and shrunk, and, finally, a crowhad succeeded in poking it out. 

The ridge on the heather-heath was really not as desolate as one mightthink, for it was inhabited by a large crow-folk. Naturally, the crowsdid not live there all the year round. They moved to foreign lands inthe winter; in the autumn they travelled from one grain-field to anotherall over Götaland, and picked grain; during the summer, they spreadthemselves over the farms in Sonnerbo township, and lived upon eggs andberries and birdlings; but every spring, when nesting time came, theycame back to the heather-heath. 

The one who had poked the rag from the window was a crow-cock named GarmWhitefeather; but he was never called anything but Fumle or Drumle, orout and out Fumle-Drumle, because he always acted awkwardly andstupidly, and wasn't good for anything except to make fun of. Fumle-Drumle was bigger and stronger than any of the other crows, butthat didn't help him in the least; he was--and remained--a butt forridicule. And it didn't profit him, either, that he came from very goodstock. If everything had gone smoothly, he should have been leader forthe whole flock, because this honour had, from time immemorial, belongedto the oldest Whitefeather. But long before Fumle-Drumle was born, thepower had gone from his family, and was now wielded by a cruel wildcrow, named Wind-Rush. 

This transference of power was due to the fact that the crows oncrow-ridge desired to change their manner of living. Possibly there aremany who think that everything in the shape of crow lives in the sameway; but this is not so. There are entire crow-folk who lead honourablelives--that is to say, they only eat grain, worms, caterpillars, anddead animals; and there are others who lead a regular bandit's life, whothrow themselves upon baby-hares and small birds, and plunder everysingle bird's nest they set eyes on. 

The ancient Whitefeathers had been strict and temperate; and as long asthey had led the flock, the crows had been compelled to conductthemselves in such a way that other birds could speak no ill of them. But the crows were numerous, and poverty was great among them. Theydidn't care to go the whole length of living a strictly moral life, sothey rebelled against the Whitefeathers, and gave the power toWind-Rush, who was the worst nest-plunderer and robber that could beimagined--if his wife, Wind-Air, wasn't worse still. Under theirgovernment the crows had begun to lead such a life that now they weremore feared than pigeon-hawks and leech-owls. 

Naturally, Fumle-Drumle had nothing to say in the flock. The crows wereall of the opinion that he did not in the least take after hisforefathers, and that he wouldn't suit as a leader. No one would havementioned him, if he hadn't constantly committed fresh blunders. A few, who were quite sensible, sometimes said perhaps it was lucky forFumle-Drumle that he was such a bungling idiot, otherwise Wind-Rush andWind-Air would hardly have allowed him--who was of the old chieftainstock--to remain with the flock. 

Now, on the other hand, they were rather friendly toward him, andwillingly took him along with them on their hunting expeditions. Thereall could observe how much more skilful and daring they were than he. 

None of the crows knew that it was Fumle-Drumle who had pecked the ragout of the window; and had they known of this, they would have been verymuch astonished. Such a thing as daring to approach a human being'sdwelling, they had never believed of him. He kept the thing to himselfvery carefully; and he had his own good reasons for it. Wind-Rush alwaystreated him well in the daytime, and when the others were around; butone very dark night, when the comrades sat on the night branch, he wasattacked by a couple of crows and nearly murdered. After that he movedevery night, after dark, from his usual sleeping quarters into the emptycabin. 

Now one afternoon, when the crows had put their nests in order oncrow-ridge, they happened upon a remarkable find. Wind-Rush, Fumle-Drumle, and a couple of others had flown down into a big hollow inone corner of the heath. The hollow was nothing but a gravel-pit, butthe crows could not be satisfied with such a simple explanation; theyflew down in it continually, and turned every single sand-grain to getat the reason why human beings had digged it. While the crows werepottering around down there, a mass of gravel fell from one side. Theyrushed up to it, and had the good fortune to find amongst the fallenstones and stubble--a large earthen crock, which was locked with awooden clasp! Naturally they wanted to know if there was anything in it, and they tried both to peck holes in the crock, and to bend up theclasp, but they had no success. 

They stood perfectly helpless and examined the crock, when they heardsomeone say: "Shall I come down and assist you crows?" They glanced upquickly. On the edge of the hollow sat a fox and blinked down at them. He was one of the prettiest foxes--both in colour and form--that theyhad ever seen. The only fault with him was that he had lost an ear. 

"If you desire to do us a service, " said Wind-Rush, "we shall not saynay. " At the same time, both he and the others flew up from the hollow. Then the fox jumped down in their place, bit at the jar, and pulled atthe lock--but he couldn't open it either. 

"Can you make out what there is in it?" said Wind-Rush. The fox rolledthe jar back and forth, and listened attentively. "It must be silvermoney, " said he. 

This was more than the crows had expected. "Do you think it can besilver?" said they, and their eyes were ready to pop out of their headswith greed; for remarkable as it may sound, there is nothing in theworld which crows love as much as silver money. 

"Hear how it rattles!" said the fox and rolled the crock around oncemore. "Only I can't understand how we shall get at it. " "That willsurely be impossible, " said the crows. The fox stood and rubbed his headagainst his left leg, and pondered. Now perhaps he might succeed, withthe help of the crows, in becoming master of that little imp who alwayseluded him. "Oh! I know someone who could open the crock for you, " saidthe fox. "Then tell us! Tell us!" cried the crows; and they were soexcited that they tumbled down into the pit. "That I will do, if you'llfirst promise me that you will agree to my terms, " said he. 

Then the fox told the crows about Thumbietot, and said that if theycould bring him to the heath he would open the crock for them. But inpayment for this counsel, he demanded that they should deliverThumbietot to him, as soon as he had gotten the silver money for them. The crows had no reason to spare Thumbietot, so agreed to the compact atonce. It was easy enough to agree to this; but it was harder to find outwhere Thumbietot and the wild geese were stopping. 

Wind-Rush himself travelled away with fifty crows, and said that heshould soon return. But one day after another passed without the crowson crow-ridge seeing a shadow of him. 

KIDNAPPED BY CROWS

_Wednesday, April thirteenth_. 

The wild geese were up at daybreak, so they should have time to getthemselves a bite of food before starting out on the journey towardÖstergötland. The island in Goosefiord, where they had slept, was smalland barren, but in the water all around it were growths which they couldeat their fill upon. It was worse for the boy, however. He couldn'tmanage to find anything eatable. 

As he stood there hungry and drowsy, and looked around in alldirections, his glance fell upon a pair of squirrels, who played uponthe wooded point, directly opposite the rock island. He wondered if thesquirrels still had any of their winter supplies left, and asked thewhite goosey-gander to take him over to the point, that he might begthem for a couple of hazelnuts. 

Instantly the white one swam across the sound with him; but as luckwould have it the squirrels had so much fun chasing each other from treeto tree, that they didn't bother about listening to the boy. They drewfarther into the grove. He hurried after them, and was soon out of thegoosey-gander's sight--who stayed behind and waited on the shore. 

The boy waded forward between some white anemone-stems--which were sohigh they reached to his chin--when he felt that someone caught hold ofhim from behind, and tried to lift him up. He turned round and saw thata crow had grabbed him by the shirt-band. He tried to break loose, butbefore this was possible, another crow ran up, gripped him by thestocking, and knocked him over. 

If Nils Holgersson had immediately cried for help, the whitegoosey-gander certainly would have been able to save him; but the boyprobably thought that he could protect himself, unaided, against acouple of crows. He kicked and struck out, but the crows didn't let gotheir hold, and they soon succeeded in raising themselves into the airwith him. To make matters worse, they flew so recklessly that his headstruck against a branch. He received a hard knock over the head, it grewblack before his eyes, and he lost consciousness. 

When he opened his eyes once more, he found himself high above theground. He regained his senses slowly; at first he knew neither where hewas, nor what he saw. When he glanced down, he saw that under him wasspread a tremendously big woolly carpet, which was woven in greens andreds, and in large irregular patterns. The carpet was very thick andfine, but he thought it was a pity that it had been so badly used. Itwas actually ragged; long tears ran through it; in some places largepieces were torn away. And the strangest of all was that it appeared tobe spread over a mirror floor; for under the holes and tears in thecarpet shone bright and glittering glass. 

The next thing the boy observed was that the sun unrolled itself in theheavens. Instantly, the mirror-glass under the holes and tears in thecarpet began to shimmer in red and gold. It looked very gorgeous, andthe boy was delighted with the pretty colour-scheme, although he didn'texactly understand what it was that he saw. But now the crows descended, and he saw at once that the big carpet under him was the earth, whichwas dressed in green and brown cone-trees and naked leaf-trees, and thatthe holes and tears were shining fiords and little lakes. 

He remembered that the first time he had travelled up in the air, hehad thought that the earth in Skåne looked like a piece of checkedcloth. But this country which resembled a torn carpet--what might thisbe?

He began to ask himself a lot of questions. Why wasn't he sitting on thegoosey-gander's back? Why did a great swarm of crows fly around him? Andwhy was he being pulled and knocked hither and thither so that he wasabout to break to pieces?

Then, all at once, the whole thing dawned on him. He had been kidnappedby a couple of crows. The white goosey-gander was still on the shore, waiting, and to-day the wild geese were going to travel to Östergötland. He was being carried southwest; this he understood because the sun'sdisc was behind him. The big forest-carpet which lay beneath him wassurely Småland. 

"What will become of the goosey-gander now, when I cannot look afterhim?" thought the boy, and began to call to the crows to take him backto the wild geese instantly. He wasn't at all uneasy on his own account. He believed that they were carrying him off simply in a spirit ofmischief. 

The crows didn't pay the slightest attention to his exhortations, butflew on as fast as they could. After a bit, one of them flapped hiswings in a manner which meant: "Look out! Danger!" Soon thereafter theycame down in a spruce forest, pushed their way between prickly branchesto the ground, and put the boy down under a thick spruce, where he wasso well concealed that not even a falcon could have sighted him. 

Fifty crows surrounded him, with bills pointed toward him to guard him. "Now perhaps I may hear, crows, what your purpose is in carrying meoff", said he. But he was hardly permitted to finish the sentence beforea big crow hissed at him: "Keep still! or I'll bore your eyes out. "

It was evident that the crow meant what she said; and there was nothingfor the boy to do but obey. So he sat there and stared at the crows, andthe crows stared at him. 

The longer he looked at them, the less he liked them. It was dreadfulhow dusty and unkempt their feather dresses were--as though they knewneither baths nor oiling. Their toes and claws were grimy with dried-inmud, and the corners of their mouths were covered with food drippings. These were very different birds from the wild geese--that he observed. He thought they had a cruel, sneaky, watchful and bold appearance, justlike cut-throats and vagabonds. 

"It is certainly a real robber-band that I've fallen in with, " thoughthe. 

Just then he heard the wild geese's call above him. "Where are you? Heream I. Where are you? Here am I. "

He understood that Akka and the others had gone out to search for him;but before he could answer them the big crow who appeared to be theleader of the band hissed in his ear: "Think of your eyes!" And therewas nothing else for him to do but to keep still. 

The wild geese may not have known that he was so near them, but had justhappened, incidentally, to travel over this forest. He heard their calla couple of times more, then it died away. "Well, now you'll have to getalong by yourself, Nils Holgersson, " he said to himself. "Now you mustprove whether you have learned anything during these weeks in the open. "

A moment later the crows gave the signal to break up; and since it wasstill their intention, apparently, to carry him along in such a way thatone held on to his shirt-band, and one to a stocking, the boy said: "Isthere not one among you so strong that he can carry me on his back? Youhave already travelled so badly with me that I feel as if I were inpieces. Only let me ride! I'll not jump from the crow's back, that Ipromise you. "

"Oh! you needn't think that we care how you have it, " said the leader. But now the largest of the crows--a dishevelled and uncouth one, who hada white feather in his wing--came forward and said: "It would certainlybe best for all of us, Wind-Rush, if Thumbietot got there whole, ratherthan half, and therefore, I shall carry him on my back. " "If you can doit, Fumle-Drumle, I have no objection, " said Wind-Rush. "But don't losehim!"

With this, much was already gained, and the boy actually felt pleasedagain. "There is nothing to be gained by losing my grit because I havebeen kidnapped by the crows, " thought he. "I'll surely be able to managethose poor little things. "

The crows continued to fly southwest, over Småland. It was a gloriousmorning--sunny and calm; and the birds down on the earth were singingtheir best love songs. In a high, dark forest sat the thrush himselfwith drooping wings and swelling throat, and struck up tune after tune. "How pretty you are! How pretty you are! How pretty you are!" sang he. "No one is so pretty. No one is so pretty. No one is so pretty. " As soonas he had finished this song, he began it all over again. 

But just then the boy rode over the forest; and when he had heard thesong a couple of times, and marked that the thrush knew no other, he putboth hands up to his mouth as a speaking trumpet, and called down:"We've heard all this before. We've heard all this before. " "Who is it?Who is it? Who is it? Who makes fun of me?" asked the thrush, and triedto catch a glimpse of the one who called. "It is Kidnapped-by-Crows whomakes fun of your song, " answered the boy. At that, the crow-chiefturned his head and said: "Be careful of your eyes, Thumbietot!" But theboy thought, "Oh! I don't care about that. I want to show you that I'mnot afraid of you!"

Farther and farther inland they travelled; and there were woods andlakes everywhere. In a birch-grove sat the wood-dove on a naked branch, and before him stood the lady-dove. He blew up his feathers, cocked hishead, raised and lowered his body, until the breast-feathers rattledagainst the branch. All the while he cooed: "Thou, thou, thou art theloveliest in all the forest. No one in the forest is so lovely as thou, thou, thou!"

But up in the air the boy rode past, and when he heard Mr. Dove hecouldn't keep still. "Don't you believe him! Don't you believe him!"cried he. 

"Who, who, who is it that lies about me?" cooed Mr. Dove, and tried toget a sight of the one who shrieked at him. "It is Caught-by-Crows thatlies about you, " replied the boy. Again Wind-Rush turned his head towardthe boy and commanded him to shut up, but Fumle-Drumle, who was carryinghim, said: "Let him chatter, then all the little birds will think thatwe crows have become quick-witted and funny birds. " "Oh! they're notsuch fools, either, " said Wind-Rush; but he liked the idea just thesame, for after that he let the boy call out as much as he liked. 

They flew mostly over forests and woodlands, but there were churches andparishes and little cabins in the outskirts of the forest. In one placethey saw a pretty old manor. It lay with the forest back of it, and thesea in front of it; had red walls and a turreted roof; great sycamoresabout the grounds, and big, thick gooseberry-bushes in the orchard. Onthe top of the weathercock sat the starling, and sang so loud that everynote was heard by the wife, who sat on an egg in the heart of a peartree. "We have four pretty little eggs, " sang the starling. "We havefour pretty little round eggs. We have the whole nest filled with fineeggs. "

When the starling sang the song for the thousandth time, the boy rodeover the place. He put his hands up to his mouth, as a pipe, and called:"The magpie will get them. The magpie will get them. "

"Who is it that wants to frighten me?" asked the starling, and flappedhis wings uneasily. "It is Captured-by-Crows that frightens you, " saidthe boy. This time the crow-chief didn't attempt to hush him up. Instead, both he and his flock were having so much fun that they cawedwith satisfaction. 

The farther inland they came, the larger were the lakes, and the moreplentiful were the islands and points. And on a lake-shore stood a drakeand kowtowed before the duck. "I'll be true to you all the days of mylife. I'll be true to you all the days of my life, " said the drake. "Itwon't last until the summer's end, " shrieked the boy. "Who are you?"called the drake. "My name's Stolen-by-Crows, " shrieked the boy. 

At dinner time the crows lighted in a food-grove. They walked about andprocured food for themselves, but none of them thought about giving theboy anything. Then Fumle-Drumle came riding up to the chief with adog-rose branch, with a few dried buds on it. "Here's something for you, Wind-Rush, " said he. "This is pretty food, and suitable for you. "Wind-Rush sniffed contemptuously. "Do you think that I want to eat old, dry buds?" said he. "And I who thought that you would be pleased withthem!" said Fumle-Drumle; and threw away the dog-rose branch as if indespair. But it fell right in front of the boy, and he wasn't slow aboutgrabbing it and eating until he was satisfied. 

When the crows had eaten, they began to chatter. "What are you thinkingabout, Wind-Rush? You are so quiet to-day, " said one of them to theleader. "I'm thinking that in this district there lived, once upon atime, a hen, who was very fond of her mistress; and in order to reallyplease her, she went and laid a nest full of eggs, which she hid underthe store-house floor. The mistress of the house wondered, of course, where the hen was keeping herself such a long time. She searched forher, but did not find her. Can you guess, Longbill, who it was thatfound her and the eggs?"

"I think I can guess it, Wind-Rush, but when you have told about this, Iwill tell you something like it. Do you remember the big, black cat inHinneryd's parish house? She was dissatisfied because they always tookthe new-born kittens from her, and drowned them. Just once did shesucceed in keeping them concealed, and that was when she had laid themin a haystack, out doors. She was pretty well pleased with those youngkittens, but I believe that I got more pleasure out of them than shedid. "

Now they became so excited that they all talked at once. "What kind ofan accomplishment is that--to steal little kittens?" said one. "I oncechased a young hare who was almost full-grown. That meant to follow himfrom covert to covert. " He got no further before another took the wordsfrom him. "It may be fun, perhaps, to annoy hens and cats, but I find itstill more remarkable that a crow can worry a human being. I once stolea silver spoon--"

But now the boy thought he was too good to sit and listen to suchgabble. "Now listen to me, you crows!" said he. "I think you ought tobe ashamed of yourselves to talk about all your wickedness. I have livedamongst wild geese for three weeks, and of them I have never heard orseen anything but good. You must have a bad chief, since he permits youto rob and murder in this way. You ought to begin to lead new lives, forI can tell you that human beings have grown so tired of your wickednessthey are trying with all their might to root you out. And then therewill soon be an end of you. "

When Wind-Rush and the crows heard this, they were so furious that theyintended to throw themselves upon him and tear him in pieces. ButFumle-Drumle laughed and cawed, and stood in front of him. "Oh, no, no!"said he, and seemed absolutely terrified. "What think you that Wind-Airwill say if you tear Thumbietot in pieces before he has gotten thatsilver money for us?" "It has to be you, Fumle-Drumle, that's afraid ofwomen-folk, " said Rush. But, at any rate, both he and the others leftThumbietot in peace. 

Shortly after that the crows went further. Until now the boy thoughtthat Småland wasn't such a poor country as he had heard. Of course itwas woody and full of mountain-ridges, but alongside the islands andlakes lay cultivated grounds, and any real desolation he hadn't comeupon. But the farther inland they came, the fewer were the villages andcottages. Toward the last, he thought that he was riding over averitable wilderness where he saw nothing but swamps and heaths andjuniper-hills. 

The sun had gone down, but it was still perfect daylight when the crowsreached the large heather-heath. Wind-Rush sent a crow on ahead, to saythat he had met with success; and when it was known, Wind-Air, withseveral hundred crows from Crow-Ridge, flew to meet the arrivals. In themidst of the deafening cawing which the crows emitted, Fumle-Drumle saidto the boy: "You have been so comical and so jolly during the trip thatI am really fond of you. Therefore I want to give you some good advice. As soon as we light, you'll be requested to do a bit of work which mayseem very easy to you; but beware of doing it!"

Soon thereafter Fumle-Drumle put Nils Holgersson down in the bottom ofa sandpit. The boy flung himself down, rolled over, and lay there asthough he was simply done up with fatigue. Such a lot of crows flutteredabout him that the air rustled like a wind-storm, but he didn't look up. 

"Thumbietot, " said Wind-Rush, "get up now! You shall help us with amatter which will be very easy for you. "

The boy didn't move, but pretended to be asleep. Then Wind-Rush took himby the arm, and dragged him over the sand to an earthen crock ofold-time make, that was standing in the pit. "Get up, Thumbietot, " saidhe, "and open this crock!" "Why can't you let me sleep?" said the boy. "I'm too tired to do anything to-night. Wait until to-morrow!"

"Open the crock!" said Wind-Rush, shaking him. "How shall a poor littlechild be able to open such a crock? Why, it's quite as large as I ammyself. " "Open it!" commanded Wind-Rush once more, "or it will be asorry thing for you. " The boy got up, tottered over to the crock, fumbled the clasp, and let his arms fall. "I'm not usually so weak, "said he. "If you will only let me sleep until morning, I think that I'llbe able to manage with that clasp. "

But Wind-Rush was impatient, and he rushed forward and pinched the boyin the leg. That sort of treatment the boy didn't care to suffer from acrow. He jerked himself loose quickly, ran a couple of paces backward, drew his knife from the sheath, and held it extended in front of him. "You'd better be careful!" he cried to Wind-Rush. 

This one too was so enraged that he didn't dodge the danger. He rushedat the boy, just as though he'd been blind, and ran so straight againstthe knife, that it entered through his eye into the head. The boy drewthe knife back quickly, but Wind-Rush only struck out with his wings, then he fell down--dead. 

"Wind-Rush is dead! The stranger has killed our chieftain, Wind-Rush!"cried the nearest crows, and then there was a terrible uproar. Somewailed, others cried for vengeance. They all ran or fluttered up to theboy, with Fumle-Drumle in the lead. But he acted badly as usual. He onlyfluttered and spread his wings over the boy, and prevented the othersfrom coming forward and running their bills into him. 

The boy thought that things looked very bad for him now. He couldn't runaway from the crows, and there was no place where he could hide. Then hehappened to think of the earthen crock. He took a firm hold on theclasp, and pulled it off. Then he hopped into the crock to hide in it. But the crock was a poor hiding place, for it was nearly filled to thebrim with little, thin silver coins. The boy couldn't get far enoughdown, so he stooped and began to throw out the coins. 

Until now the crows had fluttered around him in a thick swarm and peckedat him, but when he threw out the coins they immediately forgot theirthirst for vengeance, and hurried to gather the money. The boy threw outhandfuls of it, and all the crows--yes, even Wind-Air herself--pickedthem up. And everyone who succeeded in picking up a coin ran off to thenest with the utmost speed to conceal it. 

When the boy had thrown out all the silver pennies from the crock heglanced up. Not more than a single crow was left in the sandpit. Thatwas Fumle-Drumle, with the white feather in his wing; he who had carriedThumbietot. "You have rendered me a greater service than youunderstand, " said the crow--with a very different voice, and a differentintonation than the one he had used heretofore--"and I want to save yourlife. Sit down on my back, and I'll take you to a hiding place where youcan be secure for to-night. To-morrow, I'll arrange it so that you willget back to the wild geese. "

THE CABIN

_Thursday, April fourteenth_. 

The following morning when the boy awoke, he lay in a bed. When he sawthat he was in a house with four walls around him, and a roof over him, he thought that he was at home. "I wonder if mother will come soon withsome coffee, " he muttered to himself where he lay half-awake. Then heremembered that he was in a deserted cabin on the crow-ridge, and thatFumle-Drumle with the white feather had borne him there the nightbefore. 

The boy was sore all over after the journey he had made the day before, and he thought it was lovely to lie still while he waited forFumle-Drumle who had promised to come and fetch him. 

Curtains of checked cotton hung before the bed, and he drew them asideto look out into the cabin. It dawned upon him instantly that he hadnever seen the mate to a cabin like this. The walls consisted of nothingbut a couple of rows of logs; then the roof began. There was no interiorceiling, so he could look clear up to the roof-tree. The cabin was sosmall that it appeared to have been built rather for such as he than forreal people. However, the fireplace and chimney were so large, hethought that he had never seen larger. The entrance door was in agable-wall at the side of the fireplace, and was so narrow that it wasmore like a wicket than a door. In the other gable-wall he saw a low andbroad window with many panes. There was scarcely any movable furniturein the cabin. The bench on one side, and the table under the window, were also stationary--also the big bed where he lay, and themany-coloured cupboard. 

The boy could not help wondering who owned the cabin, and why it wasdeserted. It certainly looked as though the people who had lived thereexpected to return. The coffee-urn and the gruel-pot stood on thehearth, and there was some wood in the fireplace; the oven-rake andbaker's peel stood in a corner; the spinning wheel was raised on abench; on the shelf over the window lay oakum and flax, a couple ofskeins of yarn, a candle, and a bunch of matches. 

Yes, it surely looked as if those who had lived there had intended tocome back. There were bed-clothes on the bed; and on the walls therestill hung long strips of cloth, upon which three riders named Kasper, Melchior, and Baltasar were painted. The same horses and riders werepictured many times. They rode around the whole cabin, and continuedtheir ride even up toward the joists. 

But in the roof the boy saw something which brought him to his senses ina jiffy. It was a couple of loaves of big bread-cakes that hung thereupon a spit. They looked old and mouldy, but it was bread all the same. He gave them a knock with the oven-rake and one piece fell to the floor. He ate, and stuffed his bag full. It was incredible how good bread was, anyway. 

He looked around the cabin once more, to try and discover if there wasanything else which he might find useful to take along. "I may as welltake what I need, since no one else cares about it, " thought he. Butmost of the things were too big and heavy. The only things that hecould carry might be a few matches perhaps. 

He clambered up on the table, and swung with the help of the curtains upto the window-shelf. While he stood there and stuffed the matches intohis bag, the crow with the white feather came in through the window. "Well here I am at last, " said Fumle-Drumle as he lit on the table. "Icouldn't get here any sooner because we crows have elected a newchieftain in Wind-Rush's place. " "Whom have you chosen?" said the boy. "Well, we have chosen one who will not permit robbery and injustice. Wehave elected Garm Whitefeather, lately called Fumle-Drumle, " answeredhe, drawing himself up until he looked absolutely regal. "That was agood choice, " said the boy and congratulated him. "You may well wish meluck, " said Garm; then he told the boy about the time they had had withWind-Rush and Wind-Air. 

During this recital the boy heard a voice outside the window which hethought sounded familiar. "Is he here?"--inquired the fox. "Yes, he'shidden in there, " answered a crow-voice. "Be careful, Thumbietot!" criedGarm. "Wind-Air stands without with that fox who wants to eat you. " Morehe didn't have time to say, for Smirre dashed against the window. Theold, rotten window-frame gave way, and the next second Smirre stood uponthe window-table. Garm Whitefeather, who didn't have time to fly away, he killed instantly. Thereupon he jumped down to the floor, and lookedaround for the boy. He tried to hide behind a big oakum-spiral, butSmirre had already spied him, and was crouched for the final spring. Thecabin was so small, and so low, the boy understood that the fox couldreach him without the least difficulty. But just at that moment the boywas not without weapons of defence. He struck a match quickly, touchedthe curtains, and when they were in flames, he threw them down uponSmirre Fox. When the fire enveloped the fox, he was seized with a madterror. He thought no more about the boy, but rushed wildly out of thecabin. 

But it looked as if the boy had escaped one danger to throw himself intoa greater one. From the tuft of oakum which he had flung at Smirre thefire had spread to the bed-hangings. He jumped down and tried to smotherit, but it blazed too quickly now. The cabin was soon filled with smoke, and Smirre Fox, who had remained just outside the window, began to graspthe state of affairs within. "Well, Thumbietot, " he called out, "whichdo you choose now: to be broiled alive in there, or to come out here tome? Of course, I should prefer to have the pleasure of eating you; butin whichever way death meets you it will be dear to me. "

The boy could not think but what the fox was right, for the fire wasmaking rapid headway. The whole bed was now in a blaze, and smoke rosefrom the floor; and along the painted wall-strips the fire crept fromrider to rider. The boy jumped up in the fireplace, and tried to openthe oven door, when he heard a key which turned around slowly in thelock. It must be human beings coming. And in the dire extremity in whichhe found himself, he was not afraid, but only glad. He was already onthe threshold when the door opened. He saw a couple of children facinghim; but how they looked when they saw the cabin in flames, he took notime to find out; but rushed past them into the open. 

He didn't dare run far. He knew, of course, that Smirre Fox lay in waitfor him, and he understood that he must remain near the children. Heturned round to see what sort of folk they were, but he hadn't looked atthem a second before he ran up to them and cried: "Oh, good-day, Osagoose-girl! Oh, good-day, little Mats!"

For when the boy saw those children he forgot entirely where he was. Crows and burning cabin and talking animals had vanished from hismemory. He was walking on a stubble-field, in West Vemminghög, tending agoose-flock; and beside him, on the field, walked those same Smålandchildren, with their geese. As soon as he saw them, he ran up on thestone-hedge and shouted: "Oh, good-day, Osa goose-girl! Oh, good-day, little Mats!"

But when the children saw such a little creature coming up to them withoutstretched hands, they grabbed hold of each other, took a couple ofsteps backward, and looked scared to death. 

When the boy noticed their terror he woke up and remembered who he was. And then it seemed to him that nothing worse could happen to him thanthat those children should see how he had been bewitched. Shame andgrief because he was no longer a human being overpowered him. He turnedand fled. He knew not whither. 

But a glad meeting awaited the boy when he came down to the heath. Forthere, in the heather, he spied something white, and toward him came thewhite goosey-gander, accompanied by Dunfin. When the white one saw theboy running with such speed, he thought that dreadful fiends werepursuing him. He flung him in all haste upon his back and flew off withhim. 

THE OLD PEASANT WOMAN

_Thursday, April fourteenth_. 

Three tired wanderers were out in the late evening in search of a nightharbour. They travelled over a poor and desolate portion of northernSmåland. But the sort of resting place which they wanted, they shouldhave been able to find; for they were no weaklings who asked for softbeds or comfortable rooms. "If one of these long mountain-ridges had apeak so high and steep that a fox couldn't in any way climb up to it, then we should have a good sleeping-place, " said one of them. "If asingle one of the big swamps was thawed out, and was so marshy and wetthat a fox wouldn't dare venture out on it, this, too, would be a rightgood night harbour, " said the second. "If the ice on one of the largelakes we travel past were loose, so that a fox could not come out onit, then we should have found just what we are seeking, " said the third. 

The worst of it was that when the sun had gone down, two of thetravellers became so sleepy that every second they were ready to fall tothe ground. The third one, who could keep himself awake, grew more andmore uneasy as night approached. "Then it was a misfortune that we cameto a land where lakes and swamps are frozen, so that a fox can getaround everywhere. In other places the ice has melted away; but nowwe're well up in the very coldest Småland, where spring has not as yetarrived. I don't know how I shall ever manage to find a goodsleeping-place! Unless I find some spot that is well protected, SmirreFox will be upon us before morning. "

He gazed in all directions, but he saw no shelter where he could lodge. It was a dark and chilly night, with wind and drizzle. It grew moreterrible and disagreeable around him every second. 

This may sound strange, perhaps, but the travellers didn't seem to havethe least desire to ask for house-room on any farm. They had alreadypassed many parishes without knocking at a single door. Little hillsidecabins on the outskirts of the forests, which all poor wanderers areglad to run across, they took no notice of either. One might almost betempted to say they deserved to have a hard time of it, since they didnot seek help where it was to be had for the asking. 

But finally, when it was so dark that there was scarcely a glimmer oflight left under the skies and the two who needed sleep journeyed on ina kind of half-sleep, they happened into a farmyard which was a long wayoff from all neighbours. And not only did it lie there desolate, but itappeared to be uninhabited as well. No smoke rose from the chimney; nolight shone through the windows; no human being moved on the place. Whenthe one among the three who could keep awake, saw the place, he thought:"Now come what may, we must try to get in here. Anything better we arenot likely to find. "

Soon after that, all three stood in the house-yard. Two of them fellasleep the instant they stood still, but the third looked about himeagerly, to find where they could get under cover. It was not a smallfarm. Beside the dwelling house and stable and smoke-house, there werelong ranges with granaries and storehouses and cattlesheds. But it alllooked awfully poor and dilapidated. The houses had gray, moss-grown, leaning walls, which seemed ready to topple over. In the roofs wereyawning holes, and the doors hung aslant on broken hinges. It wasapparent that no one had taken the trouble to drive a nail into a wallon this place for a long time. 

Meanwhile, he who was awake had figured out which house was the cowshed. He roused his travelling companions from their sleep, and conducted themto the cowshed door. Luckily, this was not fastened with anything but ahook, which he could easily push up with a rod. He heaved a sigh ofrelief at the thought that they should soon be in safety. But when thecowshed door swung open with a sharp creaking, he heard a cow begin tobellow. "Are you coming at last, mistress?" said she. "I thought thatyou didn't propose to give me any supper to-night. "

The one who was awake stopped in the doorway, absolutely terrified whenhe discovered that the cowshed was not empty. But he soon saw that therewas not more than one cow, and three or four chickens; and then he tookcourage again. "We are three poor travellers who want to come insomewhere, where no fox can assail us, and no human being capture us, "said he. "We wonder if this can be a good place for us. " "I cannotbelieve but what it is, " answered the cow. "To be sure the walls arepoor, but the fox does not walk through them as yet; and no one liveshere except an old peasant woman, who isn't at all likely to make acaptive of anyone. But who are you?" she continued, as she twisted inher stall to get a sight of the newcomers. "I am Nils Holgersson fromVemminghög, who has been transformed into an elf, " replied the first ofthe incomers, "and I have with me a tame goose, whom I generally ride, and a gray goose. " "Such rare guests have never before been within myfour walls, " said the cow, "and you shall be welcome, although I wouldhave preferred that it had been my mistress, come to give me my supper. "

The boy led the geese into the cowshed, which was rather large, andplaced them in an empty manger, where they fell asleep instantly. Forhimself, he made a little bed of straw and expected that he, too, shouldgo to sleep at once. 

But this was impossible, for the poor cow, who hadn't had her supper, wasn't still an instant. She shook her flanks, moved around in thestall, and complained of how hungry she was. The boy couldn't get a winkof sleep, but lay there and lived over all the things that had happenedto him during these last days. 

He thought of Osa, the goose-girl, and little Mats, whom he hadencountered so unexpectedly; and he fancied that the little cabin whichhe had set on fire must have been their old home in Småland. Now herecalled that he had heard them speak of just such a cabin, and of thebig heather-heath which lay below it. Now Osa and Mats had wandered backthere to see their old home again, and then, when they had reached it, it was in flames. 

It was indeed a great sorrow which he had brought upon them, and it hurthim very much. If he ever again became a human being, he would try tocompensate them for the damage and miscalculation. 

Then his thoughts wandered to the crows. And when he thought ofFumle-Drumle who had saved his life, and had met his own death so soonafter he had been elected chieftain, he was so distressed that tearsfilled his eyes. He had had a pretty rough time of it these last fewdays. But, anyway, it was a rare stroke of luck that the goosey-ganderand Dunfin had found him. The goosey-gander had said that as soon as thegeese discovered that Thumbietot had disappeared, they had asked allthe small animals in the forest about him. They soon learned that aflock of Småland crows had carried him off. But the crows were alreadyout of sight, and whither they had directed their course no one had beenable to say. That they might find the boy as soon as possible, Akka hadcommanded the wild geese to start out--two and two--in differentdirections, to search for him. But after a two days' hunt, whether ornot they had found him, they were to meet in northwestern Småland on ahigh mountain-top, which resembled an abrupt, chopped-off tower, and wascalled Taberg. After Akka had given them the best directions, anddescribed carefully how they should find Taberg, they had separated. 

The white goosey-gander had chosen Dunfin as travelling companion, andthey had flown about hither and thither with the greatest anxiety forThumbietot. During this ramble they had heard a thrush, who sat in atree-top, cry and wail that someone, who called himselfKidnapped-by-Crows, had made fun of him. They had talked with thethrush, and he had shown them in which direction that Kidnapped-by-Crowshad travelled. Afterward, they had met a dove-cock, a starling and adrake; they had all wailed about a little culprit who had disturbedtheir song, and who was named Caught-by-Crows, Captured-by-Crows, andStolen-by-Crows. In this way, they were enabled to trace Thumbietot allthe way to the heather-heath in Sonnerbo township. 

As soon as the goosey-gander and Dunfin had found Thumbietot, they hadstarted toward the north, in order to reach Taberg. But it had been along road to travel, and the darkness was upon them before they hadsighted the mountain top. "If we only get there by to-morrow, surely allour troubles will be over, " thought the boy, and dug down into the strawto have it warmer. All the while the cow fussed and fumed in the stall. Then, all of a sudden, she began to talk to the boy. "Everything iswrong with me, " said the cow. "I am neither milked nor tended. I have nonight fodder in my manger, and no bed has been made under me. Mymistress came here at dusk, to put things in order for me, but she feltso ill, that she had to go in soon again, and she has not returned. "

"It's distressing that I should be little and powerless, " said the boy. "I don't believe that I am able to help you. " "You can't make me believethat you are powerless because you are little, " said the cow. "All theelves that I've ever heard of, were so strong that they could pull awhole load of hay and strike a cow dead with one fist. " The boy couldn'thelp laughing at the cow. "They were a very different kind of elf fromme, " said he. "But I'll loosen your halter and open the door for you, sothat you can go out and drink in one of the pools on the place, and thenI'll try to climb up to the hayloft and throw down some hay in yourmanger. " "Yes, that would be some help, " said the cow. 

The boy did as he had said; and when the cow stood with a full manger infront of her, he thought that at last he should get some sleep. But hehad hardly crept down in the bed before she began, anew, to talk to him. 

"You'll be clean put out with me if I ask you for one thing more, " saidthe cow. "Oh, no I won't, if it's only something that I'm able to do, "said the boy. "Then I will ask you to go into the cabin, directlyopposite, and find out how my mistress is getting along. I fear somemisfortune has come to her. " "No! I can't do that, " said the boy. "Idare not show myself before human beings. " "'Surely you're not afraid ofan old and sick woman, " said the cow. "But you do not need to go intothe cabin. Just stand outside the door and peep in through the crack!""Oh! if that is all you ask of me, I'll do it of course, " said the boy. 

With that he opened the cowshed door and went out in the yard. It was afearful night! Neither moon nor stars shone; the wind blew a gale, andthe rain came down in torrents. And the worst of all was that sevengreat owls sat in a row on the eaves of the cabin. It was awful just tohear them, where they sat and grumbled at the weather; but it was evenworse to think what would happen to him if one of them should set eyeson him. That would be the last of him. 

"Pity him who is little!" said the boy as he ventured out in the yard. And he had a right to say this, for he was blown down twice before hegot to the house: once the wind swept him into a pool, which was so deepthat he came near drowning. But he got there nevertheless. 

He clambered up a pair of steps, scrambled over a threshold, and cameinto the hallway. The cabin door was closed, but down in one corner alarge piece had been cut away, that the cat might go in and out. It wasno difficulty whatever for the boy to see how things were in the cabin. 

He had hardly cast a glance in there before he staggered back and turnedhis head away. An old, gray-haired woman lay stretched out on the floorwithin. She neither moved nor moaned; and her face shone strangelywhite. It was as if an invisible moon had thrown a feeble light over it. 

The boy remembered that when his grandfather had died, his face had alsobecome so strangely white-like. And he understood that the old woman wholay on the cabin floor must be dead. Death had probably come to her sosuddenly that she didn't even have time to lie down on her bed. 

As he thought of being alone with the dead in the middle of the darknight, he was terribly afraid. He threw himself headlong down the steps, and rushed back to the cowshed. 

When he told the cow what he had seen in the cabin, she stopped eating. "So my mistress is dead, " said she. "Then it will soon be over for meas well. " "There will always be someone to look out for you, " said theboy comfortingly. "Ah! you don't know, " said the cow, "that I am alreadytwice as old as a cow usually is before she is laid upon theslaughter-bench. But then I do not care to live any longer, since she, in there, can come no more to care for me. "

She said nothing more for a while, but the boy observed, no doubt, thatshe neither slept nor ate. It was not long before she began to speakagain. "Is she lying on the bare floor?" she asked. "She is, " said theboy. "She had a habit of coming out to the cowshed, " she continued, "andtalking about everything that troubled her. I understood what she said, although I could not answer her. These last few days she talked of howafraid she was lest there would be no one with her when she died. Shewas anxious for fear no one should close her eyes and fold her handsacross her breast, after she was dead. Perhaps you'll go in and dothis?" The boy hesitated. He remembered that when his grandfather haddied, mother had been very careful about putting everything to rights. He knew this was something which had to be done. But, on the other hand, he felt that he didn't care go to the dead, in the ghastly night. Hedidn't say no; neither did he take a step toward the cowshed door. For acouple of seconds the old cow was silent--just as if she had expected ananswer. But when the boy said nothing, she did not repeat her request. Instead, she began to talk with him of her mistress. 

There was much to tell, first and foremost, about all the children whichshe had brought up. They had been in the cowshed every day, and in thesummer they had taken the cattle to pasture on the swamp and in thegroves, so the old cow knew all about them. They had been splendid, allof them, and happy and industrious. A cow knew well enough what hercaretakers were good for. 

There was also much to be said about the farm. It had not always been aspoor as it was now. It was very large--although the greater part of itconsisted of swamps and stony groves. There was not much room forfields, but there was plenty of good fodder everywhere. At one timethere had been a cow for every stall in the cowshed; and the oxshed, which was now empty, had at one time been filled with oxen. And thenthere was life and gayety, both in cabin and cowhouse. When the mistressopened the cowshed door she would hum and sing, and all the cows lowedwith gladness when they heard her coming. 

But the good man had died when the children were so small that theycould not be of any assistance, and the mistress had to take charge ofthe farm, and all the work and responsibility. She had been as strong asa man, and had both ploughed and reaped. In the evenings, when she cameinto the cowshed to milk, sometimes she was so tired that she wept. Thenshe dashed away her tears, and was cheerful again. "It doesn't matter. Good times are coming again for me too, if only my children grow up. Yes, if they only grow up. "

But as soon as the children were grown, a strange longing came overthem. They didn't want to stay at home, but went away to a strangecountry. Their mother never got any help from them. A couple of herchildren were married before they went away, and they had left theirchildren behind, in the old home. And now these children followed themistress in the cowshed, just as her own had done. They tended the cows, and were fine, good folk. And, in the evenings, when the mistress was sotired out that she could fall asleep in the middle of the milking, shewould rouse herself again to renewed courage by thinking of them. "Goodtimes are coming for me, too, " said she--and shook off sleep--"when oncethey are grown. "

But when these children grew up, they went away to their parents in thestrange land. No one came back--no one stayed at home--the old mistresswas left alone on the farm. 

Probably she had never asked them to remain with her. "Think you, Rödlinna, that I would ask them to stay here with me, when they can goout in the world and have things comfortable?" she would say as shestood in the stall with the old cow. "Here in Småland they have onlypoverty to look forward to. "

But when the last grandchild was gone, it was all up with the mistress. All at once she became bent and gray, and tottered as she walked; as ifshe no longer had the strength to move about. She stopped working. Shedid not care to look after the farm, but let everything go to rack andruin. She didn't repair the houses; and she sold both the cows and theoxen. The only one that she kept was the old cow who now talked withThumbietot. Her she let live because all the children had tended her. 

She could have taken maids and farm-hands into her service, who wouldhave helped her with the work, but she couldn't bear to see strangersaround her, since her own had deserted her. Perhaps she was bettersatisfied to let the farm go to ruin, since none of her children werecoming back to take it after she was gone. She did not mind that sheherself became poor, because she didn't value that which was only hers. But she was troubled lest the children should find out how hard she hadit. "If only the children do not hear of this! If only the children donot hear of this!" she sighed as she tottered through the cowhouse. 

The children wrote constantly, and begged her to come out to them; butthis she did not wish. She didn't want to see the land that had takenthem from her. She was angry with it. "It's foolish of me, perhaps, thatI do not like that land which has been so good for them, " said she. "ButI don't want to see it. "

She never thought of anything but the children, and of this--that theymust needs have gone. When summer came, she led the cow out to graze inthe big swamp. All day she would sit on the edge of the swamp, her handsin her lap; and on the way home she would say: "You see, Rödlinna, ifthere had been large, rich fields here, in place of these barren swamps, then there would have been no need for them to leave. "

She could become furious with the swamp which spread out so big, and didno good. She could sit and talk about how it was the swamp's fault thatthe children had left her. 

This last evening she had been more trembly and feeble than ever before. She could not even do the milking. She had leaned against the mangerand talked about two strangers who had been to see her, and had asked ifthey might buy the swamp. They wanted to drain it, and sow and raisegrain on it. This had made her both anxious and glad. "Do you hear, Rödlinna, " she had said, "do you hear they said that grain can grow onthe swamp? Now I shall write to the children to come home. Now they'llnot have to stay away any longer; for now they can get their bread hereat home. " It was this that she had gone into the cabin to do--

The boy heard no more of what the old cow said. He had opened thecowhouse door and gone across the yard, and in to the dead whom he hadbut lately been so afraid of. 

It was not so poor in the cabin as he had expected. It was well suppliedwith the sort of things one generally finds among those who haverelatives in America. In a corner there was an American rocking chair;on the table before the window lay a brocaded plush cover; there was apretty spread on the bed; on the walls, in carved-wood frames, hung thephotographs of the children and grandchildren who had gone away; on thebureau stood high vases and a couple of candlesticks, with thick, spiralcandles in them. 

The boy searched for a matchbox and lighted these candles, not becausehe needed more light than he already had; but because he thought thatthis was one way to honour the dead. 

Then he went up to her, closed her eyes, folded her hands across herbreast, and stroked back the thin gray hair from her face. 

He thought no more about being afraid of her. He was so deeply grievedbecause she had been forced to live out her old age in loneliness andlonging. He, at least, would watch over her dead body this night. 

He hunted up the psalm book, and seated himself to read a couple ofpsalms in an undertone. But in the middle of the reading hepaused--because he had begun to think about his mother and father. 

Think, that parents can long so for their children! This he had neverknown. Think, that life can be as though it was over for them when thechildren are away! Think, if those at home longed for him in the sameway that this old peasant woman had longed!

This thought made him happy, but he dared not believe in it. He had notbeen such a one that anybody could long for him. 

But what he had not been, perhaps he could become. 

Round about him he saw the portraits of those who were away. They werebig, strong men and women with earnest faces. There were brides in longveils, and gentlemen in fine clothes; and there were children with wavedhair and pretty white dresses. And he thought that they all staredblindly into vacancy--and did not want to see. 

"Poor you!" said the boy to the portraits. "Your mother is dead. Youcannot make reparation now, because you went away from her. But mymother is living!"

Here he paused, and nodded and smiled to himself. "My mother is living, "said he. "Both father and mother are living. "

FROM TABERG TO HUSKVARNA

_Friday, April fifteenth_. 

The boy sat awake nearly all night, but toward morning he fell asleepand then he dreamed of his father and mother. He could hardly recognisethem. They had both grown gray, and had old and wrinkled faces. He askedhow this had come about, and they answered that they had aged so becausethey had longed for him. He was both touched and astonished, for he hadnever believed but what they were glad to be rid of him. 

When the boy awoke the morning was come, with fine, clear weather. First, he himself ate a bit of bread which he found in the cabin; thenhe gave morning feed to both geese and cow, and opened the cowhouse doorso that the cow could go over to the nearest farm. When the cow camealong all by herself the neighbours would no doubt understand thatsomething was wrong with her mistress. They would hurry over to thedesolate farm to see how the old woman was getting along, and then theywould find her dead body and bury it. 

The boy and the geese had barely raised themselves into the air, whenthey caught a glimpse of a high mountain, with almost perpendicularwalls, and an abrupt, broken-off top; and they understood that thismust be Taberg. On the summit stood Akka, with Yksi and Kaksi, Kolmi andNeljä, Viisi and Knusi, and all six goslings and waited for them. Therewas a rejoicing, and a cackling, and a fluttering, and a calling whichno one can describe, when they saw that the goosey-gander and Dunfin hadsucceeded in finding Thumbietot. 

The woods grew pretty high up on Taberg's sides, but her highest peakwas barren; and from there one could look out in all directions. If onegazed toward the east, or south, or west, then there was hardly anythingto be seen but a poor highland with dark spruce-trees, brown morasses, ice-clad lakes, and bluish mountain-ridges. The boy couldn't keep fromthinking it was true that the one who had created this hadn't taken verygreat pains with his work, but had thrown it together in a hurry. But ifone glanced to the north, it was altogether different. Here it looked asif it had been worked out with the utmost care and affection. In thisdirection one saw only beautiful mountains, soft valleys, and windingrivers, all the way to the big Lake Vettern, which lay ice-free andtransparently clear, and shone as if it wasn't filled with water butwith blue light. 

It was Vettern that made it so pretty to look toward the north, becauseit looked as though a blue stream had risen up from the lake, and spreaditself over land also. Groves and hills and roofs, and the spires ofJönköping City--which shimmered along Vettern's shores--lay enveloped inpale blue which caressed the eye. If there were countries in heaven, they, too, must be blue like this, thought the boy, and imagined that hehad gotten a faint idea of how it must look in Paradise. 

Later in the day, when the geese continued their journey, they flew uptoward the blue valley. They were in holiday humour; shrieked and madesuch a racket that no one who had ears could help hearing them. 

This happened to be the first really fine spring day they had had inthis section. Until now, the spring had done its work under rain andbluster; and now, when it had all of a sudden become fine weather, thepeople were filled with such a longing after summer warmth and greenwoods that they could hardly perform their tasks. And when the wildgeese rode by, high above the ground, cheerful and free, there wasn'tone who did not drop what he had in hand, and glance at them. 

The first ones who saw the wild geese that day were miners on Taberg, who were digging ore at the mouth of the mine. When they heard themcackle, they paused in their drilling for ore, and one of them called tothe birds: "Where are you going? Where are you going?" The geese didn'tunderstand what he said, but the boy leaned forward over the goose-back, and answered for them: "Where there is neither pick nor hammer. " Whenthe miners heard the words, they thought it was their own longing thatmade the goose-cackle sound like human speech. "Take us along with you!Take us along with you!" they cried. "Not this year, " shrieked the boy. "Not this year. "

The wild geese followed Taberg River down toward Monk Lake, and all thewhile they made the same racket. Here, on the narrow land-strip betweenMonk and Vettern lakes, lay Jönköping with its great factories. The wildgeese rode first over Monksjö paper mills. The noon rest hour was justover, and the big workmen were streaming down to the mill-gate. Whenthey heard the wild geese, they stopped a moment to listen to them. "Where are you going? Where are you going?" called the workmen. The wildgeese understood nothing of what they said, but the boy answered forthem: "There, where there are neither machines nor steam-boxes. " Whenthe workmen heard the answer, they believed it was their own longingthat made the goose-cackle sound like human speech. "Take us along withyou!" "Not this year, " answered the boy. "Not this year. "

Next, the geese rode over the well-known match factory, which lies onthe shores of Vettern--large as a fortress--and lifts its high chimneystoward the sky. Not a soul moved out in the yards; but in a large hallyoung working-women sat and filled match-boxes. They had opened a windowon account of the beautiful weather, and through it came the wildgeese's call. The one who sat nearest the window, leaned out with amatch-box in her hand, and cried: "Where are you going? Where are yougoing?" "To that land where there is no need of either light ormatches, " said the boy. The girl thought that what she had heard wasonly goose-cackle; but since she thought she had distinguished a coupleof words, she called out in answer: "Take me along with you!" "Not thisyear, " replied the boy. "Not this year. "

East of the factories rises Jönköping, on the most glorious spot thatany city can occupy. The narrow Vettern has high, steep sand-shores, both on the eastern and western sides; but straight south, thesand-walls are broken down, just as if to make room for a large gate, through which one reaches the lake. And in the middle of the gate--withmountains to the left, and mountains to the right, with Monk Lake behindit, and Vettern in front of it--lies Jönköping. 

The wild geese travelled forward over the long, narrow city, and behavedthemselves here just as they had done in the country. But in the citythere was no one who answered them. It was not to be expected that cityfolks should stop out in the streets, and call to the wild geese. 

The trip extended further along Vettern's shores; and after a littlethey came to Sanna Sanitarium. Some of the patients had gone out on theveranda to enjoy the spring air, and in this way they heard thegoose-cackle. "Where are you going?" asked one of them with such afeeble voice that he was scarcely heard. "To that land where there isneither sorrow nor sickness, " answered the boy. "Take us along withyou!" said the sick ones. "Not this year, " answered the boy. "Not thisyear. "

When they had travelled still farther on, they came to Huskvarna. It layin a valley. The mountains around it were steep and beautifully formed. A river rushed along the heights in long and narrow falls. Big workshopsand factories lay below the mountain walls; and scattered over thevalley-bottom were the workingmens' homes, encircled by little gardens;and in the centre of the valley lay the schoolhouse. Just as the wildgeese came along, a bell rang, and a crowd of school children marchedout in line. They were so numerous that the whole schoolyard was filledwith them. "Where are you going? Where are you going?" the childrenshouted when they heard the wild geese. "Where there are neither booksnor lessons to be found, " answered the boy. "Take us along!" shriekedthe children. "Not this year, but next, " cried the boy. "Not this year, but next. "

THE BIG BIRD LAKE

JARRO, THE WILD DUCK

On the eastern shore of Vettern lies Mount Omberg; east of Omberg liesDagmosse; east of Dagmosse lies Lake Takern. Around the whole of Takernspreads the big, even Östergöta plain. 

Takern is a pretty large lake and in olden times it must have been stilllarger. But then the people thought it covered entirely too much of thefertile plain, so they attempted to drain the water from it, that theymight sow and reap on the lake-bottom. But they did not succeed inlaying waste the entire lake--which had evidently been theirintention--therefore it still hides a lot of land. Since the drainingthe lake has become so shallow that hardly at any point is it more thana couple of metres deep. The shores have become marshy and muddy; andout in the lake, little mud-islets stick up above the water's surface. 

Now, there is one who loves to stand with his feet in the water, if hecan just keep his body and head in the air, and that is the reed. And itcannot find a better place to grow upon, than the long, shallow Takernshores, and around the little mud-islets. It thrives so well that itgrows taller than a man's height, and so thick that it is almostimpossible to push a boat through it. It forms a broad green enclosurearound the whole lake, so that it is only accessible in a few placeswhere the people have taken away the reeds. 

But if the reeds shut the people out, they give, in return, shelter andprotection to many other things. In the reeds there are a lot of littledams and canals with green, still water, where duckweed and pondweed runto seed; and where gnat-eggs and blackfish and worms are hatched out inuncountable masses. And all along the shores of these little dams andcanals, there are many well-concealed places, where seabirds hatch theireggs, and bring up their young without being disturbed, either byenemies or food worries. 

An incredible number of birds live in the Takern reeds; and more andmore gather there every year, as it becomes known what a splendid abodeit is. The first who settled there were the wild ducks; and they stilllive there by thousands. But they no longer own the entire lake, forthey have been obliged to share it with swans, grebes, coots, loons, fen-ducks, and a lot of others. 

Takern is certainly the largest and choicest bird lake in the wholecountry; and the birds may count themselves lucky as long as they ownsuch a retreat. But it is uncertain just how long they will be incontrol of reeds and mud-banks, for human beings cannot forget that thelake extends over a considerable portion of good and fertile soil; andevery now and then the proposition to drain it comes up among them. Andif these propositions were carried out, the many thousands ofwater-birds would be forced to move from this quarter. 

At the time when Nils Holgersson travelled around with the wild geese, there lived at Takern a wild duck named Jarro. He was a young bird, whohad only lived one summer, one fall, and a winter; now, it was his firstspring. He had just returned from South Africa, and had reached Takernin such good season that the ice was still on the lake. 

One evening, when he and the other young wild ducks played at racingbackward and forward over the lake, a hunter fired a couple of shots atthem, and Jarro was wounded in the breast. He thought he should die; butin order that the one who had shot him shouldn't get him into his power, he continued to fly as long as he possibly could. He didn't thinkwhither he was directing his course, but only struggled to get faraway. When his strength failed him, so that he could not fly anyfarther, he was no longer on the lake. He had flown a bit inland, andnow he sank down before the entrance to one of the big farms which liealong the shores of Takern. 

A moment later a young farm-hand happened along. He saw Jarro, and cameand lifted him up. But Jarro, who asked for nothing but to be let die inpeace, gathered his last powers and nipped the farm-hand in the finger, so he should let go of him. 

Jarro didn't succeed in freeing himself. The encounter had this good init at any rate: the farm-hand noticed that the bird was alive. Hecarried him very gently into the cottage, and showed him to the mistressof the house--a young woman with a kindly face. At once she took Jarrofrom the farm-hand, stroked him on the back and wiped away the bloodwhich trickled down through the neck-feathers. She looked him over verycarefully; and when she saw how pretty he was, with his dark-green, shining head, his white neck-band, his brownish-red back, and his bluewing-mirror, she must have thought that it was a pity for him to die. She promptly put a basket in order, and tucked the bird into it. 

All the while Jarro fluttered and struggled to get loose; but when heunderstood that the people didn't intend to kill him, he settled down inthe basket with a sense of pleasure. Now it was evident how exhausted hewas from pain and loss of blood. The mistress carried the basket acrossthe floor to place it in the corner by the fireplace; but before she putit down Jarro was already fast asleep. 

In a little while Jarro was awakened by someone who nudged him gently. When he opened his eyes he experienced such an awful shock that healmost lost his senses. Now he was lost; for there stood _the_ one whowas more dangerous than either human beings or birds of prey. It was noless a thing than Caesar himself--the long-haired dog--who nosed aroundhim inquisitively. 

How pitifully scared had he not been last summer, when he was still alittle yellow-down duckling, every time it had sounded over thereed-stems: "Caesar is coming! Caesar is coming!" When he had seen thebrown and white spotted dog with the teeth-filled jowls come wadingthrough the reeds, he had believed that he beheld death itself. He hadalways hoped that he would never have to live through that moment whenhe should meet Caesar face to face. 

But, to his sorrow, he must have fallen down in the very yard whereCaesar lived, for there he stood right over him. "Who are you?" hegrowled. "How did you get into the house? Don't you belong down amongthe reed banks?"

It was with great difficulty that he gained the courage to answer. "Don't be angry with me, Caesar, because I came into the house!" saidhe. "It isn't my fault. I have been wounded by a gunshot. It was thepeople themselves who laid me in this basket. "

"Oho! so it's the folks themselves that have placed you here, " saidCaesar. "Then it is surely their intention to cure you; although, for mypart, I think it would be wiser for them to eat you up, since you are intheir power. But, at any rate, you are tabooed in the house. You needn'tlook so scared. Now, we're not down on Takern. "

With that Caesar laid himself to sleep in front of the blazing log-fire. As soon as Jarro understood that this terrible danger was past, extremelassitude came over him, and he fell asleep anew. 

The next time Jarro awoke, he saw that a dish with grain and water stoodbefore him. He was still quite ill, but he felt hungry nevertheless, andbegan to eat. When the mistress saw that he ate, she came up and pettedhim, and looked pleased. After that, Jarro fell asleep again. Forseveral days he did nothing but eat and sleep. 

One morning Jarro felt so well that he stepped from the basket andwandered along the floor. But he hadn't gone very far before he keeledover, and lay there. Then came Caesar, opened his big jaws and grabbedhim. Jarro believed, of course, that the dog was going to bite him todeath; but Caesar carried him back to the basket without harming him. Because of this, Jarro acquired such a confidence in the dog Caesar, that on his next walk in the cottage, he went over to the dog and laydown beside him. Thereafter Caesar and he became good friends, and everyday, for several hours, Jarro lay and slept between Caesar's paws. 

But an even greater affection than he felt for Caesar, did Jarro feeltoward his mistress. Of her he had not the least fear; but rubbed hishead against her hand when she came and fed him. Whenever she went outof the cottage he sighed with regret; and when she came back he criedwelcome to her in his own language. 

Jarro forgot entirely how afraid he had been of both dogs and humans inother days. He thought now that they were gentle and kind, and he lovedthem. He wished that he were well, so he could fly down to Takern andtell the wild ducks that their enemies were not dangerous, and that theyneed not fear them. 

He had observed that the human beings, as well as Caesar, had calm eyes, which it did one good to look into. The only one in the cottage whoseglance he did not care to meet, was Clawina, the house cat. She did himno harm, either, but he couldn't place any confidence in her. Then, too, she quarrelled with him constantly, because he loved human beings. "Youthink they protect you because they are fond of you, " said Clawina. "Youjust wait until you are fat enough! Then they'll wring the neck off you. I know them, I do. "

Jarro, like all birds, had a tender and affectionate heart; and he wasunutterably distressed when he heard this. He couldn't imagine that hismistress would wish to wring the neck off him, nor could he believe anysuch thing of her son, the little boy who sat for hours beside hisbasket, and babbled and chattered. He seemed to think that both of themhad the same love for him that he had for them. 

One day, when Jarro and Caesar lay on the usual spot before the fire, Clawina sat on the hearth and began to tease the wild duck. 

"I wonder, Jarro, what you wild ducks will do next year, when Takern isdrained and turned into grain fields?" said Clawina. "What's that yousay, Clawina?" cried Jarro, and jumped up--scared through and through. "I always forget, Jarro, that you do not understand human speech, likeCaesar and myself, " answered the cat. "Or else you surely would haveheard how the men, who were here in the cottage yesterday, said that allthe water was going to be drained from Takern, and that next year thelake-bottom would be as dry as a house-floor. And now I wonder where youwild ducks will go. " When Jarro heard this talk he was so furious thathe hissed like a snake. "You are just as mean as a common coot!" hescreamed at Clawina. "You only want to incite me against human beings. Idon't believe they want to do anything of the sort. They must know thatTakern is the wild ducks' property. Why should they make so many birdshomeless and unhappy? You have certainly hit upon all this to scare me. I hope that you may be torn in pieces by Gorgo, the eagle! I hope thatmy mistress will chop off your whiskers!"

But Jarro couldn't shut Clawina up with this outburst. "So you think I'mlying, " said she. "Ask Caesar, then! He was also in the house lastnight. Caesar never lies. "

"Caesar, " said Jarro, "you understand human speech much better thanClawina. Say that she hasn't heard aright! Think how it would be if thepeople drained Takern, and changed the lake-bottom into fields! Thenthere would be no more pondweed or duck-food for the grown wild ducks, and no blackfish or worms or gnat-eggs for the ducklings. Then thereed-banks would disappear--where now the ducklings conceal themselvesuntil they are able to fly. All ducks would be compelled to move awayfrom here and seek another home. But where shall they find a retreatlike Takern? Caesar, say that Clawina has not heard aright!"

It was extraordinary to watch Caesar's behaviour during thisconversation. He had been wide-awake the whole time before, but now, when Jarro turned to him, he panted, laid his long nose on his forepaws, and was sound asleep within the wink of an eyelid. 

The cat looked down at Caesar with a knowing smile. "I believe thatCaesar doesn't care to answer you, " she said to Jarro. "It is with himas with all dogs; they will never acknowledge that humans can do anywrong. But you can rely upon my word, at any rate. I shall tell you whythey wish to drain the lake just now. As long as you wild ducks stillhad the power on Takern, they did not wish to drain it, for, at least, they got some good out of you; but now, grebes and coots and other birdswho are no good as food, have infested nearly all the reed-banks, andthe people don't think they need let the lake remain on their account. "

Jarro didn't trouble himself to answer Clawina, but raised his head, andshouted in Caesar's ear: "Caesar! You know that on Takern there arestill so many ducks left that they fill the air like clouds. Say itisn't true that human beings intend to make all of these homeless!"

Then Caesar sprang up with such a sudden outburst at Clawina that shehad to save herself by jumping up on a shelf. "I'll teach you to keepquiet when I want to sleep, " bawled Caesar. "Of course I know that thereis some talk about draining the lake this year. But there's been talk ofthis many times before without anything coming of it. And that drainingbusiness is a matter in which I take no stock whatever. For how would itgo with the game if Takern were laid waste. You're a donkey to gloatover a thing like that. What will you and I have to amuse ourselveswith, when there are no more birds on Takern?"

THE DECOY-DUCK

_Sunday, April seventeenth_. 

A couple of days later Jarro was so well that he could fly all about thehouse. Then he was petted a good deal by the mistress, and the littleboy ran out in the yard and plucked the first grass-blades for him whichhad sprung up. When the mistress caressed him, Jarro thought that, although he was now so strong that he could fly down to Takern at anytime, he shouldn't care to be separated from the human beings. He had noobjection to remaining with them all his life. 

But early one morning the mistress placed a halter, or noose, overJarro, which prevented him from using his wings, and then she turned himover to the farm-hand who had found him in the yard. The farm-hand pokedhim under his arm, and went down to Takern with him. 

The ice had melted away while Jarro had been ill. The old, dry fallleaves still stood along the shores and islets, but all thewater-growths had begun to take root down in the deep; and the greenstems had already reached the surface. And now nearly all the migratorybirds were at home. The curlews' hooked bills peeped out from the reeds. The grebes glided about with new feather-collars around the neck; andthe jack-snipes were gathering straws for their nests. 

The farm-hand got into a scow, laid Jarro in the bottom of the boat, andbegan to pole himself out on the lake. Jarro, who had now accustomedhimself to expect only good of human beings, said to Caesar, who wasalso in the party, that he was very grateful toward the farm-hand fortaking him out on the lake. But there was no need to keep him so closelyguarded, for he did not intend to fly away. To this Caesar made noreply. He was very close-mouthed that morning. 

The only thing which struck Jarro as being a bit peculiar was that thefarm-hand had taken his gun along. He couldn't believe that any of thegood folk in the cottage would want to shoot birds. And, beside, Caesarhad told him that the people didn't hunt at this time of the year. "Itis a prohibited time, " he had said, "although this doesn't concern me, of course. "

The farm-hand went over to one of the little reed-enclosed mud-islets. There he stepped from the boat, gathered some old reeds into a pile, and lay down behind it. Jarro was permitted to wander around on theground, with the halter over his wings, and tethered to the boat, with along string. 

Suddenly Jarro caught sight of some young ducks and drakes, in whosecompany he had formerly raced backward and forward over the lake. Theywere a long way off, but Jarro called them to him with a couple of loudshouts. They responded, and a large and beautiful flock approached. Before they got there, Jarro began to tell them about his marvellousrescue, and of the kindness of human beings. Just then, two shotssounded behind him. Three ducks sank down in the reeds--lifeless--andCaesar bounced out and captured them. 

Then Jarro understood. The human beings had only saved him that theymight use him as a decoy-duck. And they had also succeeded. Three duckshad died on his account. He thought he should die of shame. He thoughtthat even his friend Caesar looked contemptuously at him; and when theycame home to the cottage, he didn't dare lie down and sleep beside thedog. 

The next morning Jarro was again taken out on the shallows. This time, too, he saw some ducks. But when he observed that they flew toward him, he called to them: "Away! Away! Be careful! Fly in another direction!There's a hunter hidden behind the reed-pile. I'm only a decoy-bird!"And he actually succeeded in preventing them from coming within shootingdistance. 

Jarro had scarcely had time to taste of a grass-blade, so busy was he inkeeping watch. He called out his warning as soon as a bird drew nigh. Heeven warned the grebes, although he detested them because they crowdedthe ducks out of their best hiding-places. But he did not wish that anybird should meet with misfortune on his account. And, thanks to Jarro'svigilance, the farm-hand had to go home without firing off a singleshot. 

Despite this fact, Caesar looked less displeased than on the previousday; and when evening came he took Jarro in his mouth, carried him overto the fireplace, and let him sleep between his forepaws. 

Nevertheless Jarro was no longer contented in the cottage, but wasgrievously unhappy. His heart suffered at the thought that humans neverhad loved him. When the mistress, or the little boy, came forward tocaress him, he stuck his bill under his wing and pretended that heslept. 

For several days Jarro continued his distressful watch-service; andalready he was known all over Takern. Then it happened one morning, while he called as usual: "Have a care, birds! Don't come near me! I'monly a decoy-duck, " that a grebe-nest came floating toward the shallowswhere he was tied. This was nothing especially remarkable. It was a nestfrom the year before; and since grebe-nests are built in such a way thatthey can move on water like boats, it often happens that they drift outtoward the lake. Still Jarro stood there and stared at the nest, becauseit came so straight toward the islet that it looked as though someonehad steered its course over the water. 

As the nest came nearer, Jarro saw that a little human being--thetiniest he had ever seen--sat in the nest and rowed it forward with apair of sticks. And this little human called to him: "Go as near thewater as you can, Jarro, and be ready to fly. You shall soon be freed. "

A few seconds later the grebe-nest lay near land, but the little oarsmandid not leave it, but sat huddled up between branches and straw. Jarrotoo held himself almost immovable. He was actually paralysed with fearlest the rescuer should be discovered. 

The next thing which occurred was that a flock of wild geese came along. Then Jarro woke up to business, and warned them with loud shrieks; butin spite of this they flew backward and forward over the shallowsseveral times. They held themselves so high that they were beyondshooting distance; still the farm-hand let himself be tempted to fire acouple of shots at them. These shots were hardly fired before the littlecreature ran up on land, drew a tiny knife from its sheath, and, with acouple of quick strokes, cut loose Jarro's halter. "Now fly away, Jarro, before the man has time to load again!" cried he, while he himself randown to the grebe-nest and poled away from the shore. 

The hunter had had his gaze fixed upon the geese, and hadn't observedthat Jarro had been freed; but Caesar had followed more carefully thatwhich happened; and just as Jarro raised his wings, he dashed forwardand grabbed him by the neck. 

Jarro cried pitifully; and the boy who had freed him said quietly toCaesar: "If you are just as honourable as you look, surely you cannotwish to force a good bird to sit here and entice others into trouble. "

When Caesar heard these words, he grinned viciously with his upper lip, but the next second he dropped Jarro. "Fly, Jarro!" said he. "You arecertainly too good to be a decoy-duck. It wasn't for this that I wantedto keep you here; but because it will be lonely in the cottage withoutyou. "

THE LOWERING OF THE LAKE

_Wednesday, April twentieth_. 

It was indeed very lonely in the cottage without Jarro. The dog and thecat found the time long, when they didn't have him to wrangle over; andthe housewife missed the glad quacking which he had indulged in everytime she entered the house. But the one who longed most for Jarro, wasthe little boy, Per Ola. He was but three years old, and the only child;and in all his life he had never had a playmate like Jarro. When heheard that Jarro had gone back to Takern and the wild ducks, he couldn'tbe satisfied with this, but thought constantly of how he should get himback again. 

Per Ola had talked a good deal with Jarro while he lay still in hisbasket, and he was certain that the duck understood him. He begged hismother to take him down to the lake that he might find Jarro, andpersuade him to come back to them. Mother wouldn't listen to this; butthe little one didn't give up his plan on that account. 

The day after Jarro had disappeared, Per Ola was running about in theyard. He played by himself as usual, but Caesar lay on the stoop; andwhen mother let the boy out, she said: "Take care of Per Ola, Caesar!"

Now if all had been as usual, Caesar would also have obeyed the command, and the boy would have been so well guarded that he couldn't have runthe least risk. But Caesar was not like himself these days. He knew thatthe farmers who lived along Takern had held frequent conferences aboutthe lowering of the lake; and that they had almost settled the matter. The ducks must leave, and Caesar should nevermore behold a gloriouschase. He was so preoccupied with thoughts of this misfortune, that hedid not remember to watch over Per Ola. 

And the little one had scarcely been alone in the yard a minute, beforehe realised that now the right moment was come to go down to Takern andtalk with Jarro. He opened a gate, and wandered down toward the lake onthe narrow path which ran along the banks. As long as he could be seenfrom the house, he walked slowly; but afterward he increased his pace. He was very much afraid that mother, or someone else, should call to himthat he couldn't go. He didn't wish to do anything naughty, only topersuade Jarro to come home; but he felt that those at home would nothave approved of the undertaking. 

When Per Ola came down to the lake-shore, he called Jarro severaltimes. Thereupon he stood for a long time and waited, but no Jarroappeared. He saw several birds that resembled the wild duck, but theyflew by without noticing him, and he could understand that none amongthem was the right one. 

When Jarro didn't come to him, the little boy thought that it would beeasier to find him if he went out on the lake. There were several goodcraft lying along the shore, but they were tied. The only one that layloose, and at liberty, was an old leaky scow which was so unfit that noone thought of using it. But Per Ola scrambled up in it without caringthat the whole bottom was filled with water. He had not strength enoughto use the oars, but instead, he seated himself to swing and rock in thescow. Certainly no grown person would have succeeded in moving a scowout on Takern in that manner; but when the tide is high--and ill-luck tothe fore--little children have a marvellous faculty for getting out tosea. Per Ola was soon riding around on Takern, and calling for Jarro. 

When the old scow was rocked like this--out to sea--its Cracks openedwider and wider, and the water actually streamed into it. Per Ola didn'tpay the slightest attention to this. He sat upon the little bench infront and called to every bird he saw, and wondered why Jarro didn'tappear. 

At last Jarro caught sight of Per Ola. He heard that someone called himby the name which he had borne among human beings, and he understoodthat the boy had gone out on Takern to search for him. Jarro wasunspeakably happy to find that one of the humans really loved him. Heshot down toward Per Ola, like an arrow, seated himself beside him, andlet him caress him. They were both very happy to see each other again. But suddenly Jarro noticed the condition of the scow. It was half-filledwith water, and was almost ready to sink. Jarro tried to tell Per Olathat he, who could neither fly nor swim, must try to get upon land; butPer Ola didn't understand him. Then Jarro did not wait an instant, buthurried away to get help. 

Jarro came back in a little while, and carried on his back a tiny thing, who was much smaller than Per Ola himself. If he hadn't been able totalk and move, the boy would have believed that it was a doll. Instantly, the little one ordered Per Ola to pick up a long, slenderpole that lay in the bottom of the scow, and try to pole it toward oneof the reed-islands. Per Ola obeyed him, and he and the tiny creature, together, steered the scow. With a couple of strokes they were on alittle reed-encircled island, and now Per Ola was told that he must stepon land. And just the very moment that Per Ola set foot on land, thescow was filled with water, and sank to the bottom. When Per Ola sawthis he was sure that father and mother would be very angry with him. Hewould have started in to cry if he hadn't found something else to thinkabout soon; namely, a flock of big, gray birds, who lighted on theisland. The little midget took him up to them, and told him their names, and what they said. And this was so funny that Per Ola forgoteverything else. 

Meanwhile the folks on the farm had discovered that the boy haddisappeared, and had started to search for him. They searched theouthouses, looked in the well, and hunted through the cellar. Then theywent out into the highways and by-paths; wandered to the neighbouringfarm to find out if he had strayed over there, and searched for him alsodown by Takern. But no matter how much they sought they did not findhim. 

Caesar, the dog, understood very well that the farmer-folk were lookingfor Per Ola, but he did nothing to lead them on the right track;instead, he lay still as though the matter didn't concern him. 

Later in the day, Per Ola's footprints were discovered down by theboat-landing. And then came the thought that the old, leaky scow was nolonger on the strand. Then one began to understand how the whole affairhad come about. 

The farmer and his helpers immediately took out the boats and went insearch of the boy. They rowed around on Takern until way late in theevening, without seeing the least shadow of him. They couldn't helpbelieving that the old scow had gone down, and that the little one laydead on the lake-bottom. 

In the evening, Per Ola's mother hunted around on the strand. Everyoneelse was convinced that the boy was drowned, but she could not bringherself to believe this. She searched all the while. She searchedbetween reeds and bulrushes; tramped and tramped on the muddy shore, never thinking of how deep her foot sank, and how wet she had become. She was unspeakably desperate. Her heart ached in her breast. She didnot weep, but wrung her hands and called for her child in loud piercingtones. 

Round about her she heard swans' and ducks' and curlews' shrieks. Shethought that they followed her, and moaned and wailed--they too. "Surely, they, too, must be in trouble, since they moan so, " thoughtshe. Then she remembered: these were only birds that she heard complain. They surely had no worries. 

It was strange that they did not quiet down after sunset. But she heardall these uncountable bird-throngs, which lived along Takern, send forthcry upon cry. Several of them followed her wherever she went; otherscame rustling past on light wings. All the air was filled with moans andlamentations. 

But the anguish which she herself was suffering, opened her heart. Shethought that she was not as far removed from all other living creaturesas people usually think. She understood much better than ever before, how birds fared. They had their constant worries for home and children;they, as she. There was surely not such a great difference between themand her as she had heretofore believed. 

Then she happened to think that it was as good as settled that thesethousands of swans and ducks and loons would lose their homes here byTakern. "It will be very hard for them, " she thought. "Where shall theybring up their children now?"

She stood still and mused on this. It appeared to be an excellent andagreeable accomplishment to change a lake into fields and meadows, butlet it be some other lake than Takern; some other lake, which was notthe home of so many thousand creatures. 

She remembered how on the following day the proposition to lower thelake was to be decided, and she wondered if this was why her little sonhad been lost--just to-day. 

Was it God's meaning that sorrow should come and open her heart--justto-day--before it was too late to avert the cruel act?

She walked rapidly up to the house, and began to talk with her husbandabout this. She spoke of the lake, and of the birds, and said that shebelieved it was God's judgment on them both. And she soon found that hewas of the same opinion. 

They already owned a large place, but if the lake-draining was carriedinto effect, such a goodly portion of the lake-bottom would fall totheir share that their property would be nearly doubled. For this reasonthey had been more eager for the undertaking than any of the other shoreowners. The others had been worried about expenses, and anxious lest thedraining should not prove any more successful this time than it was thelast. Per Ola's father knew in his heart that it was he who hadinfluenced them to undertake the work. He had exercised all hiseloquence, so that he might leave to his son a farm as large again ashis father had left to him. 

He stood and pondered if God's hand was back of the fact that Takern hadtaken his son from him on the day before he was to draw up the contractto lay it waste. The wife didn't have to say many words to him, beforehe answered: "It may be that God does not want us to interfere with Hisorder. I'll talk with the others about this to-morrow, and I think we'llconclude that all may remain as it is. "

While the farmer-folk were talking this over, Caesar lay before thefire. He raised his head and listened very attentively. When he thoughtthat he was sure of the outcome, he walked up to the mistress, took herby the skirt, and led her to the door. "But Caesar!" said she, andwanted to break loose. "Do you know where Per Ola is?" she exclaimed. Caesar barked joyfully, and threw himself against the door. She openedit, and Caesar dashed down toward Takern. The mistress was so positivehe knew where Per Ola was, that she rushed after him. And no sooner hadthey reached the shore than they heard a child's cry out on the lake. 

Per Ola had had the best day of his life, in company with Thumbietot andthe birds; but now he had begun to cry because he was hungry and afraidof the darkness. And he was glad when father and mother and Caesar camefor him. 

ULVÅSA-LADY

THE PROPHECY

_Friday, April twenty-second_. 

One night when the boy lay and slept on an island in Takern, he wasawakened by oar-strokes. He had hardly gotten his eyes open before therefell such a dazzling light on them that he began to blink. 

At first he couldn't make out what it was that shone so brightly outhere on the lake; but he soon saw that a scow with a big burning torchstuck up on a spike, aft, lay near the edge of the reeds. The red flamefrom the torch was clearly reflected in the night-dark lake; and thebrilliant light must have lured the fish, for round about the flame inthe deep a mass of dark specks were seen, that moved continually, andchanged places. 

There were two old men in the scow. One sat at the oars, and the otherstood on a bench in the stern and held in his hand a short spear whichwas coarsely barbed. The one who rowed was apparently a poor fisherman. He was small, dried-up and weather-beaten, and wore a thin, threadbarecoat. One could see that he was so used to being out in all sorts ofweather that he didn't mind the cold. The other was well fed and welldressed, and looked like a prosperous and self-complacent farmer. 

"Now, stop!" said the farmer, when they were opposite the island wherethe boy lay. At the same time he plunged the spear into the water. Whenhe drew it out again, a long, fine eel came with it. 

"Look at that!" said he as he released the eel from the spear. "That wasone who was worth while. Now I think we have so many that we can turnback. "

His comrade did not lift the oars, but sat and looked around. "It islovely out here on the lake to-night, " said he. And so it was. It wasabsolutely still, so that the entire water-surface lay in undisturbedrest with the exception of the streak where the boat had gone forward. This lay like a path of gold, and shimmered in the firelight. The skywas clear and dark blue and thickly studded with stars. The shores werehidden by the reed islands except toward the west. There Mount Ombergloomed up high and dark, much more impressive than usual, and, cut awaya big, three-cornered piece of the vaulted heavens. 

The other one turned his head to get the light out of his eyes, andlooked about him. "Yes, it is lovely here in Östergylln, " said he. "Still the best thing about the province is not its beauty. " "Then whatis it that's best?" asked the oarsman. "That it has always been arespected and honoured province. " "That may be true enough. " "And thenthis, that one knows it will always continue to be so. " "But how in theworld can one know this?" said the one who sat at the oars. 

The farmer straightened up where he stood and braced himself with thespear. "There is an old story which has been handed down from father toson in my family; and in it one learns what will happen toÖstergötland. " "Then you may as well tell it to me, " said the oarsman. "We do not tell it to anyone and everyone, but I do not wish to keep ita secret from an old comrade. 

"At Ulvåsa, here in Östergötland, " he continued (and one could tell bythe tone of his voice that he talked of something which he had heardfrom others, and knew by heart), "many, many years ago, there lived alady who had the gift of looking into the future, and telling peoplewhat was going to happen to them--just as certainly and accurately asthough it had already occurred. For this she became widely noted; and itis easy to understand that people would come to her, both from far andnear, to find out what they were going to pass through of good or evil. 

"One day, when Ulvåsa-lady sat in her hall and spun, as was customary informer days, a poor peasant came into the room and seated himself on thebench near the door. 

"'I wonder what you are sitting and thinking about, dear lady, ' said thepeasant after a little. 

"'I am sitting and thinking about high and holy things, ' answered she. 'Then it is not fitting, perhaps, that I ask you about something whichweighs on my heart, ' said the peasant. 

"'It is probably nothing else that weighs on your heart than that youmay reap much grain on your field. But I am accustomed to receivecommunications from the Emperor about how it will go with his crown; andfrom the Pope, about how it will go with his keys. ' 'Such things cannotbe easy to answer, ' said the peasant. 'I have also heard that no oneseems to go from here without being dissatisfied with what he hasheard. '

"When the peasant said this, he saw that Ulvåsa-lady bit her lip, andmoved higher up on the bench. 'So this is what you have heard about me, 'said she. 'Then you may as well tempt fortune by asking me about thething you wish to know; and you shall see if I can answer so that youwill be satisfied. '

"After this the peasant did not hesitate to state his errand. He saidthat he had come to ask how it would go with Östergötland in the future. There was nothing which was so dear to him as his native province, andhe felt that he should be happy until his dying day if he could get asatisfactory reply to his query. 

"'Oh! is that all you wish to know, ' said the wise lady; 'then I thinkthat you will be content. For here where I now sit, I can tell you thatit will be like this with Östergötland: it will always have something toboast of ahead of other provinces. '

"'Yes, that was a good answer, dear lady, ' said the peasant, 'and now Iwould be entirely at peace if I could only comprehend how such a thingshould be possible. '

"'Why should it not be possible?' said Ulvåsa-lady. 'Don't you know thatÖstergötland is already renowned? Or think you there is any place inSweden that can boast of owning, at the same time, two such cloisters asthe ones in Alvastra and Vreta, and such a beautiful cathedral as theone in Linköping?'

"'That may be so, ' said the peasant. 'But I'm an old man, and I knowthat people's minds are changeable. I fear that there will come a timewhen they won't want to give us any glory, either for Alvastra or Vretaor for the cathedral. '

"'Herein you may be right, ' said Ulvåsa-lady, 'but you need not doubtprophecy on that account. I shall now build up a new cloister onVadstena, and that will become the most celebrated in the North. Thitherboth the high and the lowly shall make pilgrimages, and all shall singthe praises of the province because it has such a holy place within itsconfines. '

"The peasant replied that he was right glad to know this. But he alsoknew, of course, that everything was perishable; and he wondered muchwhat would give distinction to the province, if Vadstena Cloister shouldonce fall into disrepute. 

"'You are not easy to satisfy, ' said Ulvåsa-lady, 'but surely I can seeso far ahead that I can tell you, before Vadstena Cloister shall havelost its splendour, there will be a castle erected close by, which willbe the most magnificent of its period. Kings and dukes will be gueststhere, and it shall be accounted an honour to the whole province, thatit owns such an ornament. '

"'This I am also glad to hear, ' said the peasant. 'But I'm an old man, and I know how it generally turns out with this world's glories. And ifthe castle goes to ruin, I wonder much what there will be that canattract the people's attention to this province. '

"'It's not a little that you want to know, ' said Ulvåsa-lady, 'but, certainly, I can look far enough into the future to see that there willbe life and movement in the forests around Finspång. I see how cabinsand smithies arise there, and I believe that the whole province shallbe renowned because iron will be moulded within its confines. '

"The peasant didn't deny that he was delighted to hear this. 'But if itshould go so badly that even Finspång's foundry went down in importance, then it would hardly be possible that any new thing could arise of whichÖstergötland might boast. '

"'You are not easy to please, ' said Ulvåsa-lady, 'but I can see so farinto the future that I mark how, along the lake-shores, greatmanors--large as castles--are built by gentlemen who have carried onwars in foreign lands. I believe that the manors will bring the provincejust as much honour as anything else that I have mentioned. '

"'But if there comes a time when no one lauds the great manors?'insisted the peasant. 

"'You need not be uneasy at all events, ' said Ulvåsa-lady. I see howhealth-springs bubble on Medevi meadows, by Vätter's shores. I believethat the wells at Medevi will bring the land as much praise as you candesire. '

"'That is a mighty good thing to know, ' said the peasant. 'But if therecomes a time when people will seek their health at other springs?'

"'You must not give yourself any anxiety on that account, ' answeredUlvåsa-lady. I see how people dig and labour, from Motala to Mem. Theydig a canal right through the country, and then Östergötland's praise isagain on everyone's lips. '

"But, nevertheless, the peasant looked distraught. 

"'I see that the rapids in Motala stream begin to draw wheels, ' saidUlvåsa-lady--and now two bright red spots came to her cheeks, for shebegan to be impatient--'I hear hammers resound in Motala, and loomsclatter in Norrköping. '

"'Yes, that's good to know, ' said the peasant, 'but everything isperishable, and I'm afraid that even this can be forgotten, and go intooblivion. '

"When the peasant was not satisfied even now, there was an end to thelady's patience. 'You say that everything is perishable, ' said she, 'butnow I shall still name something which will always be like itself; andthat is that such arrogant and pig-headed peasants as you will alwaysbe found in this province--until the end of time. '

"Hardly had Ulvåsa-lady said this before the peasant rose--happy andsatisfied--and thanked her for a good answer. Now, at last, he wassatisfied, he said. 

"'Verily, I understand now how you look at it, ' then said Ulvåsa-lady. 

"'Well, I look at it in this way, dear lady, ' said the peasant, 'thateverything which kings and priests and noblemen and merchants build andaccomplish, can only endure for a few years. But when you tell me thatin Östergötland there will always be peasants who are honour-loving andpersevering, then I know also that it will be able to keep its ancientglory. For it is only those who go bent under the eternal labour withthe soil, who can hold this land in good repute and honour--from onetime to another. '"

THE HOMESPUN CLOTH

_Saturday, April twenty-third_. 

The boy rode forward--way up in the air. He had the great Östergötlandplain under him, and sat and counted the many white churches whichtowered above the small leafy groves around them. It wasn't long beforehe had counted fifty. After that he became confused and couldn't keeptrack of the counting. 

Nearly all the farms were built up with large, whitewashed two-storyhouses, which looked so imposing that the boy couldn't help admiringthem. "There can't be any peasants in this land, " he said to himself, "since I do not see any peasant farms. "

Immediately all the wild geese shrieked: "Here the peasants live likegentlemen. Here the peasants live like gentlemen. "

On the plains the ice and snow had disappeared, and the spring work hadbegun. "What kind of long crabs are those that creep over the fields?"asked the boy after a bit. "Ploughs and oxen. Ploughs and oxen, "answered the wild geese. 

The oxen moved so slowly down on the fields, that one could scarcelyperceive they were in motion, and the geese shouted to them: "You won'tget there before next year. You won't get there before next year. " Butthe oxen were equal to the occasion. They raised their muzzles in theair and bellowed: "We do more good in an hour than such as you do in awhole lifetime. "

In a few places the ploughs were drawn by horses. They went along withmuch more eagerness and haste than the oxen; but the geese couldn't keepfrom teasing these either. "Ar'n't you ashamed to be doing ox-duty?"cried the wild geese. "Ar'n't you ashamed yourselves to be doing lazyman's duty?" the horses neighed back at them. 

But while horses and oxen were at work in the fields, the stable ramwalked about in the barnyard. He was newly clipped and touchy, knockedover the small boys, chased the shepherd dog into his kennel, and thenstrutted about as though he alone were lord of the whole place. "Rammie, rammie, what have you done with your wool?" asked the wild geese, whorode by up in the air. "That I have sent to Drag's woollen mills inNorrköping, " replied the ram with a long, drawn-out bleat. "Rammie, rammie, what have you done with your horns?" asked the geese. But anyhorns the rammie had never possessed, to his sorrow, and one couldn'toffer him a greater insult than to ask after them. He ran around a longtime, and butted at the air, so furious was he. 

On the country road came a man who drove a flock of Skåne pigs that werenot more than a few weeks old, and were going to be sold up country. They trotted along bravely, as little as they were, and kept closetogether--as if they sought protection. "Nuff, nuff, nuff, we came awaytoo soon from father and mother. Nuff, nuff, nuff, how will it go withus poor children?" said the little pigs. The wild geese didn't have theheart to tease such poor little creatures. "It will be better for youthan you can ever believe, " they cried as they flew past them. 

The wild geese were never so merry as when they flew over a flatcountry. Then they did not hurry themselves, but flew from farm to farm, and joked with the tame animals. 

As the boy rode over the plain, he happened to think of a legend whichhe had heard a long time ago. He didn't remember it exactly, but it wassomething about a petticoat--half of which was made of gold-wovenvelvet, and half of gray homespun cloth. But the one who owned thepetticoat adorned the homespun cloth with such a lot of pearls andprecious stones that it looked richer and more gorgeous than thegold-cloth. 

He remembered this about the homespun cloth, as he looked down onÖstergötland, because it was made up of a large plain, which lay wedgedin between two mountainous forest-tracts--one to the north, the other tothe south. The two forest-heights lay there, a lovely blue, andshimmered in the morning light, as if they were decked with goldenveils; and the plain, which simply spread out one winter-naked fieldafter another, was, in and of itself, prettier to look upon than grayhomespun. 

But the people must have been contented on the plain, because it wasgenerous and kind, and they had tried to decorate it in the best waypossible. High up--where the boy rode by--he thought that cities andfarms, churches and factories, castles and railway stations werescattered over it, like large and small trinkets. It shone on the roofs, and the window-panes glittered like jewels. Yellow country roads, shining railway-tracks and blue canals ran along between the districtslike embroidered loops. Linköping lay around its cathedral like apearl-setting around a precious stone; and the gardens in the countrywere like little brooches and buttons. There was not much regulation inthe pattern, but it was a display of grandeur which one could never tireof looking at. 

The geese had left Öberg district, and travelled toward the east alongGöta Canal. This was also getting itself ready for the summer. Workmenlaid canal-banks, and tarred the huge lock-gates. They were workingeverywhere to receive spring fittingly, even in the cities. There, masons and painters stood on scaffoldings and made fine the exteriors ofthe houses while maids were cleaning the windows. Down at the harbour, sailboats and steamers were being washed and dressed up. 

At Norrköping the wild geese left the plain, and flew up towardKolmården. For a time they had followed an old, hilly country road, which wound around cliffs, and ran forward under wildmountain-walls--when the boy suddenly let out a shriek. He had beensitting and swinging his foot back and forth, and one of his woodenshoes had slipped off. 

"Goosey-gander, goosey-gander, I have dropped my shoe!" cried the boy. The goosey-gander turned about and sank toward the ground; then the boysaw that two children, who were walking along the road, had picked uphis shoe. "Goosey-gander, goosey-gander, " screamed the boy excitedly, "fly upward again! It is too late. I cannot get my shoe back again. "

Down on the road stood Osa, the goose-girl, and her brother, littleMats, looking at a tiny wooden shoe that had fallen from the skies. 

Osa, the goose-girl, stood silent a long while, and pondered over thefind. At last she said, slowly and thoughtfully: "Do you remember, little Mats, that when we went past Övid Cloister, we heard that thefolks in a farmyard had seen an elf who was dressed in leather breeches, and had wooden shoes on his feet, like any other working man? And do yourecollect when we came to Vittskövle, a girl told us that she had seen aGoa-Nisse with wooden shoes, who flew away on the back of a goose? Andwhen we ourselves came home to our cabin, little Mats, we saw a goblinwho was dressed in the same way, and who also straddled the back of agoose--and flew away. Maybe it was the same one who rode along on hisgoose up here in the air and dropped his wooden shoe. "

"Yes, it must have been, " said little Mats. 

They turned the wooden shoe about and examined it carefully--for itisn't every day that one happens across a Goa-Nisse's wooden shoe on thehighway. 

"Wait, wait, little Mats!" said Osa, the goose-girl. "There is somethingwritten on one side of it. "

"Why, so there is! but they are such tiny letters. "

"Let me see! It says--it says: 'Nils Holgersson from W. Vemminghög. 'That's the most wonderful thing I've ever heard!" said little Mats. 

THE STORY OF KARR AND GRAYSKIN

KARR

About twelve years before Nils Holgersson started on his travels withthe wild geese there was a manufacturer at Kolmården who wanted to berid of one of his dogs. He sent for his game-keeper and said to him thatit was impossible to keep the dog because he could not be broken of thehabit of chasing all the sheep and fowl he set eyes on, and he asked theman to take the dog into the forest and shoot him. 

The game-keeper slipped the leash on the dog to lead him to a spot inthe forest where all the superannuated dogs from the manor were shot andburied. He was not a cruel man, but he was very glad to shoot that dog, for he knew that sheep and chickens were not the only creatures hehunted. Times without number he had gone into the forest and helpedhimself to a hare or a grouse-chick. 

The dog was a little black-and-tan setter. His name was Karr, and he wasso wise he understood all that was said. 

As the game-keeper was leading him through the thickets, Karr knew onlytoo well what was in store for him. But this no one could have guessedby his behaviour, for he neither hung his head nor dragged his tail, butseemed as unconcerned as ever. 

It was because they were in the forest that the dog was so careful notto appear the least bit anxious. 

There were great stretches of woodland on every side of the factory, andthis forest was famed both among animals and human beings because formany, many years the owners had been so careful of it that they hadbegrudged themselves even the trees needed for firewood. Nor had theyhad the heart to thin or train them. The trees had been allowed to growas they pleased. Naturally a forest thus protected was a beloved refugefor wild animals, which were to be found there in great numbers. Amongthemselves they called it Liberty Forest, and regarded it as the bestretreat in the whole country. 

As the dog was being led through the woods he thought of what a bugaboohe had been to all the small animals and birds that lived there. 

"Now, Karr, wouldn't they be happy in their lairs if they only knew whatwas awaiting you?" he thought, but at the same time he wagged his tailand barked cheerfully, so that no one should think that he was worriedor depressed. 

"What fun would there have been in living had I not huntedoccasionally?" he reasoned. "Let him who will, regret; it's not going tobe Karr!"

But the instant the dog said this, a singular change came over him. Hestretched his neck as though he had a mind to howl. He no longer trottedalongside the game-keeper, but walked behind him. It was plain that hehad begun to think of something unpleasant. 

It was early summer; the elk cows had just given birth to their young, and, the night before, the dog had succeeded in parting from its motheran elk calf not more than five days old, and had driven it down into themarsh. There he had chased it back and forth over the knolls--not withthe idea of capturing it, but merely for the sport of seeing how hecould scare it. The elk cow knew that the marsh was bottomless so soonafter the thaw, and that it could not as yet hold up so large an animalas herself, so she stood on the solid earth for the longest time, watching! But when Karr kept chasing the calf farther and farther away, she rushed out on the marsh, drove the dog off, took the calf with her, and turned back toward firm land. Elk are more skilled than otheranimals in traversing dangerous, marshy ground, and it seemed as if shewould reach solid land in safety; but when she was almost there a knollwhich she had stepped upon sank into the mire, and she went down withit. She tried to rise, but could get no secure foothold, so she sank andsank. Karr stood and looked on, not daring to move. When he saw that theelk could not save herself, he ran away as fast as he could, for he hadbegun to think of the beating he would get if it were discovered that hehad brought a mother elk to grief. He was so terrified that he dared notpause for breath until he reached home. 

It was this that the dog recalled; and it troubled him in a way verydifferent from the recollection of all his other misdeeds. This wasdoubtless because he had not really meant to kill either the elk cow orher calf, but had deprived them of life without wishing to do so. 

"But maybe they are alive yet!" thought the dog. "They were not deadwhen I ran away; perhaps they saved themselves. "

He was seized with an irresistible longing to know for a certainty whileyet there was time for him to find out. He noticed that the game-keeperdid not have a firm hold on the leash; so he made a sudden spring, brokeloose, and dashed through the woods down to the marsh with such speedthat he was out of sight before the game-keeper had time to level hisgun. 

There was nothing for the game-keeper to do but to rush after him. Whenhe got to the marsh he found the dog standing upon a knoll, howling withall his might. 

The man thought he had better find out the meaning of this, so hedropped his gun and crawled out over the marsh on hands and knees. Hehad not gone far when he saw an elk cow lying dead in the quagmire. Close beside her lay a little calf. It was still alive, but so muchexhausted that it could not move. Karr was standing beside the calf, nowbending down and licking it, now howling shrilly for help. 

The game-keeper raised the calf and began to drag it toward land. Whenthe dog understood that the calf would be saved he was wild with joy. Hejumped round and round the game-keeper, licking his hands and barkingwith delight. 

The man carried the baby elk home and shut it up in a calf stall in thecow shed. Then he got help to drag the mother elk from the marsh. Onlyafter this had been done did he remember that he was to shoot Karr. Hecalled the dog to him, and again took him into the forest. 

The game-keeper walked straight on toward the dog's grave; but all thewhile he seemed to be thinking deeply. Suddenly he turned and walkedtoward the manor. 

Karr had been trotting along quietly; but when the game-keeper turnedand started for home, he became anxious. The man must have discoveredthat it was he that had caused the death of the elk, and now he wasgoing back to the manor to be thrashed before he was shot!

To be beaten was worse than all else! With that prospect Karr could nolonger keep up his spirits, but hung his head. When he came to the manorhe did not look up, but pretended that he knew no one there. 

The master was standing on the stairs leading to the hall when thegame-keeper came forward. 

"Where on earth did that dog come from?" he exclaimed. "Surely it can'tbe Karr? He must be dead this long time!"

Then the man began to tell his master all about the mother elk, whileKarr made himself as little as he could, and crouched behind thegame-keeper's legs. 

Much to his surprise the man had only praise for him. He said it wasplain the dog knew that the elk were in distress, and wished to savethem. 

"You may do as you like, but I can't shoot that dog!" declared thegame-keeper. 

Karr raised himself and pricked up his ears. He could hardly believethat he heard aright. Although he did not want to show how anxious hehad been, he couldn't help whining a little. Could it be possible thathis life was to be spared simply because he had felt uneasy about theelk?

The master thought that Karr had conducted himself well, but as he didnot want the dog, he could not decide at once what should be done withhim. 

"If you will take charge of him and answer for his good behaviour in thefuture, he may as well live, " he said, finally. 

This the game-keeper was only too glad to do, and that was how Karr cameto move to the game-keeper's lodge. 

GRAYSKIN'S FLIGHT

From the day that Karr went to live with the game-keeper he abandonedentirely his forbidden chase in the forest. This was due not only to hishaving been thoroughly frightened, but also to the fact that he did notwish to make the game-keeper angry at him. Ever since his new mastersaved his life the dog loved him above everything else. He thought onlyof following him and watching over him. If he left the house, Karr wouldrun ahead to make sure that the way was clear, and if he sat at home, Karr would lie before the door and keep a close watch on every one whocame and went. 

When all was quiet at the lodge, when no footsteps were heard on theroad, and the game-keeper was working in his garden, Karr would amusehimself playing with the baby elk. 

At first the dog had no desire to leave his master even for a moment. Since he accompanied him everywhere, he went with him to the cow shed. When he gave the elk calf its milk, the dog would sit outside the stalland gaze at it. The game-keeper called the calf Grayskin because hethought it did not merit a prettier name, and Karr agreed with him onthat point. 

Every time the dog looked at it he thought that he had never seenanything so ugly and misshapen as the baby elk, with its long, shamblylegs, which hung down from the body like loose stilts. The head waslarge, old, and wrinkled, and it always drooped to one side. The skinlay in tucks and folds, as if the animal had put on a coat that had notbeen made for him. Always doleful and discontented, curiously enough hejumped up every time Karr appeared as if glad to see him. 

The elk calf became less hopeful from day to day, did not grow any, andat last he could not even rise when he saw Karr. Then the dog jumped upinto the crib to greet him, and thereupon a light kindled in the eyes ofthe poor creature--as if a cherished longing were fulfilled. 

After that Karr visited the elk calf every day, and spent many hourswith him, licking his coat, playing and racing with him, till he taughthim a little of everything a forest animal should know. 

It was remarkable that, from the time Karr began to visit the elk calfin his stall, the latter seemed more contented, and began to grow. Afterhe was fairly started, he grew so rapidly that in a couple of weeks thestall could no longer hold him, and he had to be moved into a grove. 

When he had been in the grove two months his legs were so long that hecould step over the fence whenever he wished. Then the lord of the manorgave the game-keeper permission to put up a higher fence and to allowhim more space. Here the elk lived for several years, and grew up into astrong and handsome animal. Karr kept him company as often as he could;but now it was no longer through pity, for a great friendship had sprungup between the two. The elk was always inclined to be melancholy, listless, and, indifferent, but Karr knew how to make him playful andhappy. 

Grayskin had lived for five summers on the game-keeper's place, when hisowner received a letter from a zoölogical garden abroad asking if theelk might be purchased. 

The master was pleased with the proposal, the game-keeper wasdistressed, but had not the power to say no; so it was decided that theelk should be sold. Karr soon discovered what was in the air and ranover to the elk to have a chat with him. The dog was very muchdistressed at the thought of losing his friend, but the elk took thematter calmly, and seemed neither glad nor sorry. 

"Do you think of letting them send you away without offeringresistance?" asked Karr. 

"What good would it do to resist?" asked Grayskin. "I should prefer toremain where I am, naturally, but if I've been sold, I shall have to go, of course. "

Karr looked at Grayskin and measured him with his eyes. It was apparentthat the elk was not yet full grown. He did not have the broad antlers, high hump, and long mane of the mature elk; but he certainly hadstrength enough to fight for his freedom. 

"One can see that he has been in captivity all his life, " thought Karr, but said nothing. 

Karr left and did not return to the grove till long past midnight. Bythat time he knew Grayskin would be awake and eating his breakfast. 

"Of course you are doing right, Grayskin, in letting them take youaway, " remarked Karr, who appeared now to be calm and satisfied. "Youwill be a prisoner in a large park and will have no responsibilities. Itseems a pity that you must leave here without having seen the forest. You know your ancestors have a saying that 'the elk are one with theforest. ' But you haven't even been in a forest!"

Grayskin glanced up from the clover which he stood munching. 

"Indeed, I should love to see the forest, but how am I to get over thefence?" he said with his usual apathy. 

"Oh, that is difficult for one who has such short legs!" said Karr. 

The elk glanced slyly at the dog, who jumped the fence many times aday--little as he was. 

He walked over to the fence, and with one spring he was on the otherside, without knowing how it happened. 

Then Karr and Grayskin went into the forest. It was a beautifulmoonlight night in late summer; but in among the trees it was dark, andthe elk walked along slowly. 

"Perhaps we had better turn back, " said Karr. "You, who have neverbefore tramped the wild forest, might easily break your legs. " Grayskinmoved more rapidly and with more courage. 

Karr conducted the elk to a part of the forest where the pines grew sothickly that no wind could penetrate them. 

"It is here that your kind are in the habit of seeking shelter from coldand storm, " said Karr. "Here they stand under the open skies all winter. But you will fare much better where you are going, for you will stand ina shed, with a roof over your head, like an ox. "

Grayskin made no comment, but stood quietly and drank in the strong, piney air. 

"Have you anything more to show me, or have I now seen the wholeforest?" he asked. 

Then Karr went with him to a big marsh, and showed him clods andquagmire. 

"Over this marsh the elk take flight when they are in peril, " said Karr. "I don't know how they manage it, but, large and heavy as they are, theycan walk here without sinking. Of course you couldn't hold yourself upon such dangerous ground, but then there is no occasion for you to doso, for you will never be hounded by hunters. "

Grayskin made no retort, but with a leap he was out on the marsh, andhappy when he felt how the clods rocked under him. He dashed across themarsh, and came back again to Karr, without having stepped into amudhole. 

"Have we seen the whole forest now?" he asked. 

"No, not yet, " said Karr. 

He next conducted the elk to the skirt of the forest, where fine oaks, lindens, and aspens grew. 

"Here your kind eat leaves and bark, which they consider the choicestof food; but you will probably get better fare abroad. "

Grayskin was astonished when he saw the enormous leaf-trees spreadinglike a great canopy above him. He ate both oak leaves and aspen bark. 

"These taste deliciously bitter and good!" he remarked. "Better thanclover!"

"Then wasn't it well that you should taste them once?" said the dog. 

Thereupon he took the elk down to a little forest lake. The water was assmooth as a mirror, and reflected the shores, which were veiled in thin, light mists. When Grayskin saw the lake he stood entranced. 

"What is this, Karr?" he asked. 

It was the first time that he had seen a lake. 

"It's a large body of water--a lake, " said Karr. "Your people swimacross it from shore to shore. One could hardly expect you to befamiliar with this; but at least you should go in and take a swim!"

Karr, himself, plunged into the water for a swim. Grayskin stayed backon the shore for some little time, but finally followed. He grewbreathless with delight as the cool water stole soothingly around hisbody. He wanted it over his back, too, so went farther out. Then he feltthat the water could hold him up, and began to swim. He swam all aroundKarr, ducking and snorting, perfectly at home in the water. 

When they were on shore again, the dog asked if they had not better gohome now. 

"It's a long time until morning, " observed Grayskin, "so we can tramparound in the forest a little longer. "

They went again into the pine wood. Presently they came to an open gladeilluminated by the moonlight, where grass and flowers shimmered beneaththe dew. Some large animals were grazing on this forest meadow--an elkbull, several elk cows and a number of elk calves. When Grayskin caughtsight of them he stopped short. He hardly glanced at the cows or theyoung ones, but stared at the old bull, which had broad antlers withmany taglets, a high hump, and a long-haired fur piece hanging down fromhis throat. 

"What kind of an animal is that?" asked Grayskin in wonderment. 

"He is called Antler-Crown, " said Karr, "and he is your kinsman. One ofthese days you, too, will have broad antlers, like those, and just sucha mane; and if you were to remain in the forest, very likely you, also, would have a herd to lead. "

"If he is my kinsman, I must go closer and have a look at him, " saidGrayskin. "I never dreamed that an animal could be so stately!"

Grayskin walked over to the elk, but almost immediately he came back toKarr, who had remained at the edge of the clearing. 

"You were not very well received, were you?" said Karr. 

"I told him that this was the first time I had run across any of mykinsmen, and asked if I might walk with them on their meadow. But theydrove me back, threatening me with their antlers. "

"You did right to retreat, " said Karr. "A young elk bull with only ataglet crown must be careful about fighting with an old elk. Anotherwould have disgraced his name in the whole forest by retreating withoutresistance, but such things needn't worry you who are going to move to aforeign land. "

Karr had barely finished speaking when Grayskin turned and walked downto the meadow. The old elk came toward him, and instantly they began tofight. Their antlers met and clashed, and Grayskin was driven backwardover the whole meadow. Apparently he did not know how to make use of hisstrength; but when he came to the edge of the forest, he planted hisfeet on the ground, pushed hard with his antlers, and began to forceAntler-Crown back. 

Grayskin fought quietly, while Antler-Crown puffed and snorted. The oldelk, in his turn, was now being forced backward over the meadow. Suddenly a loud crash was heard! A taglet in the old elk's antlers hadsnapped. He tore himself loose, and dashed into the forest. 

Karr was still standing at the forest border when Grayskin came along. 

"Now that you have seen what there is in the forest, " said Karr, "willyou come home with me?"

"Yes, it's about time, " observed the elk. 

Both were silent on the way home. Karr sighed several times, as if hewas disappointed about something; but Grayskin stepped along--his headin the air--and seemed delighted over the adventure. He walked aheadunhesitatingly until they came to the enclosure. There he paused. Helooked in at the narrow pen where he had lived up till now; saw thebeaten ground, the stale fodder, the little trough where he had drunkwater, and the dark shed in which he had slept. 

"The elk are one with the forest!" he cried. Then he threw back hishead, so that his neck rested against his back, and rushed wildly intothe woods. 

HELPLESS, THE WATER-SNAKE

In a pine thicket in the heart of Liberty Forest, every year, in themonth of August, there appeared a few grayish-white moths of the kindwhich are called nun moths. They were small and few in number, andscarcely any one noticed them. When they had fluttered about in thedepth of the forest a couple of nights, they laid a few thousand eggs onthe branches of trees; and shortly afterward dropped lifeless to theground. 

When spring came, little prickly caterpillars crawled out from the eggsand began to eat the pine needles. They had good appetites, but theynever seemed to do the trees any serious harm, because they were hotlypursued by birds. It was seldom that more than a few hundredcaterpillars escaped the pursuers. 

The poor things that lived to be full grown crawled up on the branches, spun white webs around themselves, and sat for a couple of weeks asmotionless pupae. During this period, as a rule, more than half of themwere abducted. If a hundred nun moths came forth in August, winged andperfect, it was reckoned a good year for them. 

This sort of uncertain and obscure existence did the moths lead for manyyears in Liberty Forest. There were no insect folk in the whole countrythat were so scarce, and they would have remained quite harmless andpowerless had they not, most unexpectedly, received a helper. 

This fact has some connection with Grayskin's flight from thegame-keeper's paddock. Grayskin roamed the forest that he might becomemore familiar with the place. Late in the afternoon he happened tosqueeze through some thickets behind a clearing where the soil was muddyand slimy, and in the centre of it was a murky pool. This open space wasencircled by tall pines almost bare from age and miasmic air. Grayskinwas displeased with the place and would have left it at once had he notcaught sight of some bright green calla leaves which grew near the pool. 

As he bent his head toward the calla stalks, he happened to disturb abig black snake, which lay sleeping under them. Grayskin had heard Karrspeak of the poisonous adders that were to be found in the forest. So, when the snake raised its head, shot out its tongue and hissed at him, he thought he had encountered an awfully dangerous reptile. He wasterrified and, raising his foot, he struck so hard with his hoof that hecrushed the snake's head. Then, away he ran in hot haste!

As soon as Grayskin had gone, another snake, just as long and as blackas the first, came up from the pool. It crawled over to the dead one, and licked the poor, crushed-in head. 

"Can it be true that you are dead, old Harmless?" hissed the snake. "Wetwo have lived together so many years; we two have been so happy witheach other, and have fared so well here in the swamp, that we have livedto be older than all the other water-snakes in the forest! This is theworst sorrow that could have befallen me!"

The snake was so broken-hearted that his long body writhed as if it hadbeen wounded. Even the frogs, who lived in constant fear of him, weresorry for him. 

"What a wicked creature he must be to murder a poor water-snake thatcannot defend itself!" hissed the snake. "He certainly deserves a severepunishment. As sure as my name is Helpless and I'm the oldestwater-snake in the whole forest, I'll be avenged! I shall not rest untilthat elk lies as dead on the ground as my poor old snake-wife. "

When the snake had made this vow he curled up into a hoop and began toponder. One can hardly imagine anything that would be more difficult fora poor water-snake than to wreak vengeance upon a big, strong elk; andold Helpless pondered day and night without finding any solution. 

One night, as he lay there with his vengeance-thoughts, he heard aslight rustle over his head. He glanced up and saw a few light nun mothsplaying in among the trees. 

He followed them with his eyes a long while; then began to hiss loudlyto himself, apparently pleased with the thought that had occurred tohim--then he fell asleep. 

The next morning the water-snake went over to see Crawlie, the adder, who lived in a stony and hilly part of Liberty Forest. He told him allabout the death of the old water-snake, and begged that he who coulddeal such deadly thrusts would undertake the work of vengeance. ButCrawlie was not exactly disposed to go to war with an elk. 

"If I were to attack an elk, " said the adder, "he would instantly killme. Old Harmless is dead and gone, and we can't bring her back to life, so why should I rush into danger on her account?"

When the water-snake got this reply he raised his head a whole foot fromthe ground, and hissed furiously:

"Vish vash! Vish vash!" he said. "It's a pity that you, who have beenblessed with such weapons of defence, should be so cowardly that youdon't dare use them!"

When the adder heard this, he, too, got angry. 

"Crawl away, old Helpless!" he hissed. "The poison is in my fangs, but Iwould rather spare one who is said to be my kinsman. "

But the water-snake did not move from the spot, and for a long time thesnakes lay there hissing abusive epithets at each other. 

When Crawlie was so angry that he couldn't hiss, but could only dart histongue out, the water-snake changed the subject, and began to talk in avery different tone. 

"I had still another errand, Crawlie, " he said, lowering his voice to amild whisper. "But now I suppose you are so angry that you wouldn't careto help me?"

"If you don't ask anything foolish of me, I shall certainly be at yourservice. "

"In the pine trees down by the swamp live a moth folk that fly aroundall night. "

"I know all about them, " remarked Crawlie. "What's up with them now?"

"They are the smallest insect family in the forest, " said Helpless, "andthe most harmless, since the caterpillars content themselves withgnawing only pine needles. "

"Yes, I know, " said Crawlie. 

"I'm afraid those moths, will soon be exterminated, " sighed thewater-snake. "There are so many who pick off the caterpillars in thespring. "

Now Crawlie began to understand that the water-snake wanted thecaterpillars for his own purpose, and he answered pleasantly:

"Do you wish me to say to the owls that they are to leave those pinetree worms in peace?"

"Yes, it would be well if you who have some authority in the forestshould do this, " said Helpless. 

"I might also drop a good word for the pine needle pickers among thethrushes?" volunteered the adder. "I will gladly serve you when you donot demand anything unreasonable. "

"Now you have given me a good promise, Crawlie, " said Helpless, "and I'mglad that I came to you. "

THE NUN MOTHS

One morning--several years later--Karr lay asleep on the porch. It wasin the early summer, the season of light nights, and it was as bright asday, although the sun was not yet up. Karr was awakened by some onecalling his name. 

"Is it you, Grayskin?" he asked, for he was accustomed to the elk'snightly visits. Again he heard the call; then he recognized Grayskin'svoice, and hastened in the direction of the sound. 

Karr heard the elk's footfalls in the distance, as he dashed into thethickest pine wood, and straight through the brush, following no troddenpath. Karr could not catch up with him, and he had great difficulty ineven following the trail. "Karr, Karri" came the cry, and the voice wascertainly Grayskin's, although it had a ring now which the dog had neverheard before. 

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" the dog responded. "Where are you?"

"Karr, Karr! Don't you see how it falls and falls?" said Grayskin. 

Then Karr noticed that the pine needles kept dropping and dropping fromthe trees, like a steady fall of rain. 

"Yes, I see how it falls, " he cried, and ran far into the forest insearch of the elk. 

Grayskin kept running through the thickets, while Karr was about to losethe trail again. 

"Karr, Karr!" roared Grayskin; "can't you scent that peculiar odour inthe forest?"

Karr stopped and sniffed. 

He had not thought of it before, but now he remarked that the pines sentforth a much stronger odour than usual. 

"Yes, I catch the scent, " he said. He did not stop long enough to findout the cause of it, but hurried on after Grayskin. 

The elk ran ahead with such speed that the dog could not catch up withhim. 

"Karr, Karr!" he called; "can't you hear the crunching on the pines?"Now his tone was so plaintive it would have melted a stone. 

Karr paused to listen. He heard a faint but distinct "tap, tap, " on thetrees. It sounded like the ticking of a watch. 

"Yes, I hear how it ticks, " cried Karr, and ran no farther. Heunderstood that the elk did not want him to follow, but to take noticeof something that was happening in the forest. 

Karr was standing beneath the drooping branches of a great pine. Helooked carefully at it; the needles moved. He went closer and saw a massof grayish-white caterpillars creeping along the branches, gnawing offthe needles. Every branch was covered with them. The crunch, crunch inthe trees came from the working of their busy little jaws. Gnawed-offneedles fell to the ground in a continuous shower, and from the poorpines there came such a strong odour that the dog suffered from it. 

"What can be the meaning of this?" wondered Karr. "It's too bad aboutthe pretty trees! Soon they'll have no beauty left. "

He walked from tree to tree, trying with his poor eyesight to see if allwas well with them. 

"There's a pine they haven't touched, " he thought. But they had takenpossession of it, too. "And here's a birch--no, this also! Thegame-keeper will not be pleased with this, " observed Karr. 

He ran deeper into the thickets, to learn how far the destruction hadspread. Wherever he went, he heard the same ticking; scented the sameodour; saw the same needle rain. There was no need of his pausing toinvestigate. He understood it all by these signs. The littlecaterpillars were everywhere. The whole forest was being ravaged bythem!

All of a sudden he came to a tract where there was no odour, and whereall was still. 

"Here's the end of their domain, " thought the dog, as he paused andglanced about. 

But here it was even worse; for the caterpillars had already done theirwork, and the trees were needleless. They were like the dead. The onlything that covered them was a network of ragged threads, which thecaterpillars had spun to use as roads and bridges. 

In there, among the dying trees, Grayskin stood waiting for Karr. 

He was not alone. With him were four old elk--the most respected in theforest. Karr knew them: They were Crooked-Back, who was a small elk, buthad a larger hump than the others; Antler-Crown, who was the mostdignified of the elk; Rough-Mane, with the thick coat; and an oldlong-legged one, who, up till the autumn before, when he got a bullet inhis thigh, had been terribly hot-tempered and quarrelsome. 

"What in the world is happening to the forest?" Karr asked when he cameup to the elk. They stood with lowered heads, far protruding upper lips, and looked puzzled. 

"No one can tell, " answered Grayskin. "This insect family used to be theleast hurtful of any in the forest, and never before have they done anydamage. But these last few years they have been multiplying so fast thatnow it appears as if the entire forest would be destroyed. "

"Yes, it looks bad, " Karr agreed, "but I see that the wisest animals inthe forest have come together to hold a consultation. Perhaps you havealready found some remedy?"

When the dog said this, Crooked-Back solemnly raised his heavy head, pricked up his long ears, and spoke:

"We have summoned you hither, Karr, that we may learn if the humans knowof this desolation. "

"No, " said Karr, "no human being ever comes thus far into the forestwhen it's not hunting time. They know nothing of this misfortune. "

Then Antler-Crown said:

"We who have lived long in the forest do not think that we can fightthis insect pest all by ourselves. "

"After this there will be no peace in the forest!" put in Rough-Mane. 

"But we can't let the whole Liberty Forest go to rack and ruin!"protested Big-and-Strong. "We'll have to consult the humans; there is noalternative. "

Karr understood that the elk had difficulty in expressing what theywished to say, and he tried to help them. 

"Perhaps you want me to let the people know the conditions here?" hesuggested. 

All the old elk nodded their heads. 

"It's most unfortunate that we are obliged to ask help of human beings, but we have no choice. "

A moment later Karr was on his way home. As he ran ahead, deeplydistressed over all that he had heard and seen, a big black water-snakeapproached them. 

"Well met in the forest!" hissed the water-snake. 

"Well met again!" snarled Karr, and rushed by without stopping. 

The snake turned and tried to catch up to him. 

"Perhaps that creature also, is worried about the forest, " thought Karr, and waited. 

Immediately the snake began to talk about the great disaster. 

"There will be an end of peace and quiet in the forest when human beingsare called hither, " said the snake. 

"I'm afraid there will, " the dog agreed; "but the oldest forest dwellersknow what they're about!" he added. 

"I think I know a better plan, " said the snake, "if I can get the rewardI wish. "

"Are you not the one whom every one around here calls old Helpless?"said the dog, sneeringly. 

"I'm an old inhabitant of the forest, " said the snake, "and I know howto get rid of such plagues. "

"If you clear the forest of that pest, I feel sure you can have anythingyou ask for, " said Karr. 

The snake did not respond to this until he had crawled under a treestump, where he was well protected. Then he said:

"Tell Grayskin that if he will leave Liberty Forest forever, and go farnorth, where no oak tree grows, I will send sickness and death to allthe creeping things that gnaw the pines and spruces!"

"What's that you say?" asked Karr, bristling up. "What harm has Grayskinever done you?"

"He has slain the one whom I loved best, " the snake declared, "and Iwant to be avenged. "

Before the snake had finished speaking, Karr made a dash for him; butthe reptile lay safely hidden under the tree stump. 

"Stay where you are!" Karr concluded. "We'll manage to drive out thecaterpillars without your help. "

THE BIG WAR OF THE MOTHS

The following spring, as Karr was dashing through the forest onemorning, he heard some one behind him calling: "Karr! Karr!"

He turned and saw an old fox standing outside his lair. 

"You must tell me if the humans are doing anything for the forest, " saidthe fox. 

"Yes, you may be sure they are!" said Karr. "They are working as hard asthey can. "

"They have killed off all my kinsfolk, and they'll be killing me next, "protested the fox. "But they shall be pardoned for that if only theysave the forest. "

That year Karr never ran into the woods without some animal's asking ifthe humans could save the forest. It was not easy for the dog to answer;the people themselves were not certain that they could conquer themoths. But considering how feared and hated old Kolmården had alwaysbeen, it was remarkable that every day more than a hundred men wentthere, to work. They cleared away the underbrush. They felled deadtrees, lopped off branches from the live ones so that the caterpillarscould not easily crawl from tree to tree; they also dug wide trenchesaround the ravaged parts and put up lime-washed fences to keep them outof new territory. Then they painted rings of lime around the trunks oftrees to prevent the caterpillars leaving those they had alreadystripped. The idea was to force them to remain where they were untilthey starved to death. 

The people worked with the forest until far into the spring. They werehopeful, and could hardly wait for the caterpillars to come out fromtheir eggs, feeling certain that they had shut them in so effectuallythat most of them would die of starvation. 

But in the early summer the caterpillars came out, more numerous thanever. 

They were everywhere! They crawled on the country roads, on fences, onthe walls of the cabins. They wandered outside the confines of LibertyForest to other parts of Kolmården. 

"They won't stop till all our forests are destroyed!" sighed the people, who were in great despair, and could not enter the forest withoutweeping. 

Karr was so sick of the sight of all these creeping, gnawing things thathe could hardly bear to step outside the door. But one day he felt thathe must go and find out how Grayskin was getting on. He took theshortest cut to the elk's haunts, and hurried along--his nose close tothe earth. When he came to the tree stump where he had met Helpless theyear before, the snake was still there, and called to him:

"Have you told Grayskin what I said to you when last we met?" asked thewater-snake. 

Karr only growled and tried to get at him. 

"If you haven't told him, by all means do so!" insisted the snake. "Youmust see that the humans know of no cure for this plague. "

"Neither do you!" retorted the dog, and ran on. 

Karr found Grayskin, but the elk was so low-spirited that he scarcelygreeted the dog. He began at once to talk of the forest. 

"I don't know what I wouldn't give if this misery were only at an end!"he said. 

"Now I shall tell you that 'tis said you could save the forest. " ThenKarr delivered the water-snake's message. 

"If any one but Helpless had promised this, I should immediately go intoexile, " declared the elk. "But how can a poor water-snake have the powerto work such a miracle?"

"Of course it's only a bluff, " said Karr. "Water-snakes always like topretend that they know more than other creatures. "

When Karr was ready to go home, Grayskin accompanied him part of theway. Presently Karr heard a thrush, perched on a pine top, cry:

"There goes Grayskin, who has destroyed the forest! There goes Grayskin, who has destroyed the forest!"

Karr thought that he had not heard correctly, but the next moment a harecame darting across the path. When the hare saw them, he stopped, flapped his ears, and screamed:

"Here comes Grayskin, who has destroyed the forest!" Then he ran as fastas he could. 

"What do they mean by that?" asked Karr. 

"I really don't know, " said Grayskin. "I think that the small forestanimals are displeased with me because I was the one who proposed thatwe should ask help of human beings. When the underbrush was cut down, all their lairs and hiding places were destroyed. "

They walked on together a while longer, and Karr heard the same crycoming from all directions:

"There goes Grayskin, who has destroyed the forest!"

Grayskin pretended not to hear it; but Karr understood why the elk wasso downhearted. 

"I say, Grayskin, what does the water-snake mean by saying you killedthe one he loved best?"

"How can I tell?" said Grayskin. "You know very well that I never killanything. "

Shortly after that they met the four old elk--Crooked-Back, Antler-Crown, Rough-Mane, and Big-and-Strong, who were coming alongslowly, one after the other. 

"Well met in the forest!" called Grayskin. 

"Well met in turn!" answered the elk. 

"We were just looking for you, Grayskin, to consult with you about theforest. "

"The fact is, " began Crooked-Back, "we have been informed that a crimehas been committed here, and that the whole forest is being destroyedbecause the criminal has not been punished. "

"What kind of a crime was it?"

"Some one killed a harmless creature that he couldn't eat. Such an actis accounted a crime in Liberty Forest. "

"Who could have done such a cowardly thing?" wondered Grayskin. 

"They say that an elk did it, and we were just going to ask if you knewwho it was. "

"No, " said Grayskin, "I have never heard of an elk killing a harmlesscreature. "

Grayskin parted from the four old elk, and went on with Karr. He wassilent and walked with lowered head. They happened to pass Crawlie, theadder, who lay on his shelf of rock. 

"There goes Grayskin, who has destroyed the whole forest!" hissedCrawlie, like all the rest. 

By that time Grayskin's patience was exhausted. He walked up to thesnake, and raised a forefoot. 

"Do you think of crushing me as you crushed the old water-snake?" hissedCrawlie. 

"Did I kill a water-snake?" asked Grayskin, astonished. 

"The first day you were in the forest you killed the wife of poor oldHelpless, " said Crawlie. 

Grayskin turned quickly from the adder, and continued his walk withKarr. Suddenly he stopped. 

"Karr, it was I who committed that crime! I killed a harmless creature;therefore it is on my account that the forest is being destroyed. "

"What are you saying?" Karr interrupted. 

"You may tell the water-snake, Helpless, that Grayskin goes into exileto-night!"

"That I shall never tell him!" protested Karr. "The Far North is adangerous country for elk. "

"Do you think that I wish to remain here, when I have caused a disasterlike this?" protested Grayskin. 

"Don't be rash! Sleep over it before you do anything!"

"It was you who taught me that the elk are one with the forest, " saidGrayskin, and so saying he parted from Karr. 

The dog went home alone; but this talk with Grayskin troubled him, andthe next morning he returned to the forest to seek him, but Grayskin wasnot to be found, and the dog did not search long for him. He realizedthat the elk had taken the snake at his word, and had gone into exile. 

On his walk home Karr was too unhappy for words! He could not understandwhy Grayskin should allow that wretch of a water-snake to trick himaway. He had never heard of such folly! "What power can that oldHelpless have?"

As Karr walked along, his mind full of these thoughts, he happened tosee the game-keeper, who stood pointing up at a tree. 

"What are you looking at?" asked a man who stood beside him. 

"Sickness has come among the caterpillars, " observed the game-keeper. 

Karr was astonished, but he was even more angered at the snake's havingthe power to keep his word. Grayskin would have to stay away a long longtime, for, of course, that water-snake would never die. 

At the very height of his grief a thought came to Karr which comfortedhim a little. 

"Perhaps the water-snake won't live so long, after all!" he thought. "Surely he cannot always lie protected under a tree root. As soon as hehas cleaned out the caterpillars, I know some one who is going to bitehis head off!"

It was true that an illness had made its appearance among thecaterpillars. The first summer it did not spread much. It had only justbroken out when it was time for the larvae to turn into pupae. From thelatter came millions of moths. They flew around in the trees like ablinding snowstorm, and laid countless numbers of eggs. An even greaterdestruction was prophesied for the following year. 

The destruction came not only to the forest, but also to thecaterpillars. The sickness spread quickly from forest to forest. Thesick caterpillars stopped eating, crawled up to the branches of thetrees, and died there. 

There was great rejoicing among the people when they saw them die, butthere was even greater rejoicing among the forest animals. 

From day to day the dog Karr went about with savage glee, thinking ofthe hour when he might venture to kill Helpless. 

But the caterpillars, meanwhile, had spread over miles of pine woods. Not in one summer did the disease reach them all. Many lived to becomepupas and moths. 

Grayskin sent messages to his friend Karr by the birds of passage, tosay that he was alive and faring well. But the birds told Karrconfidentially that on several occasions Grayskin had been pursued bypoachers, and that only with the greatest difficulty had he escaped. 

Karr lived in a state of continual grief, yearning, and anxiety. Yet hehad to wait two whole summers more before there was an end of thecaterpillars!

Karr no sooner heard the game-keeper say that the forest was out ofdanger than he started on a hunt for Helpless. But when he was in thethick of the forest he made a frightful discovery: He could not hunt anymore, he could not run, he could not track his enemy, and he could notsee at all!

During the long years of waiting, old age had overtaken Karr. He hadgrown old without having noticed it. He had not the strength even tokill a water-snake. He was not able to save his friend Grayskin from hisenemy. 

RETRIBUTION

One afternoon Akka from Kebnekaise and her flock alighted on the shoreof a forest lake. 

Spring was backward--as it always is in the mountain districts. Icecovered all the lake save a narrow strip next the land. The geese atonce plunged into the water to bathe and hunt for food. In the morningNils Holgersson had dropped one of his wooden shoes, so he went down bythe elms and birches that grew along the shore, to look for something tobind around his foot. 

The boy walked quite a distance before he found anything that he coulduse. He glanced about nervously, for he did not fancy being in theforest. 

"Give me the plains and the lakes!" he thought. "There you can see whatyou are likely to meet. Now, if this were a grove of little birches, itwould be well enough, for then the ground would be almost bare; but howpeople can like these wild, pathless forests is incomprehensible to me. If I owned this land I would chop down every tree. "

At last he caught sight of a piece of birch bark, and just as he wasfitting it to his foot he heard a rustle behind him. He turned quickly. A snake darted from the brush straight toward him!

The snake was uncommonly long and thick, but the boy soon saw that ithad a white spot on each cheek. 

"Why, it's only a water-snake, " he laughed; "it can't harm me. "

But the next instant the snake gave him a powerful blow on the chestthat knocked him down. The boy was on his feet in a second and runningaway, but the snake was after him! The ground was stony and scrubby; theboy could not proceed very fast; and the snake was close at his heels. 

Then the boy saw a big rock in front of him, and began to scale it. 

"I do hope the snake can't follow me here!" he thought, but he had nosooner reached the top of the rock than he saw that the snake wasfollowing him. 

Quite close to the boy, on a narrow ledge at the top of the rock, lay around stone as large as a man's head. As the snake came closer, the boyran behind the stone, and gave it a push. It rolled right down on thesnake, drawing it along to the ground, where it landed on its head. 

"That stone did its work well!" thought the boy with a sigh of relief, as he saw the snake squirm a little, and then lie perfectly still. 

"I don't think I've been in greater peril on the whole journey, " hesaid. 

He had hardly recovered from the shock when he heard a rustle above him, and saw a bird circling through the air to light on the ground rightbeside the snake. The bird was like a crow in size and form, but wasdressed in a pretty coat of shiny black feathers. 

The boy cautiously retreated into a crevice of the rock. His adventurein being kidnapped by crows was still fresh in his memory, and he didnot care to show himself when there was no need of it. 

The bird strode back and forth beside the snake's body, and turned itover with his beak. Finally he spread his wings and began to shriek inear-splitting tones:

"It is certainly Helpless, the water-snake, that lies dead here!" Oncemore he walked the length of the snake; then he stood in a deep study, and scratched his neck with his foot. 

"It isn't possible that there can be two such big snakes in the forest, "he pondered. "It must surely be Helpless!"

He was just going to thrust his beak into the snake, but suddenlychecked himself. 

"You mustn't be a numbskull, Bataki!" he remarked to himself. "Surelyyou cannot be thinking of eating the snake until you have called Karr!He wouldn't believe that Helpless was dead unless he could see it withhis own eyes. "

The boy tried to keep quiet, but the bird was so ludicrously solemn, ashe stalked back and forth chattering to himself, that he had to laugh. 

The bird heard him, and, with a flap of his wings, he was up on therock. The boy rose quickly and walked toward him. 

"Are you not the one who is called Bataki, the raven? and are you not afriend of Akka from Kebnekaise?" asked the boy. 

The bird regarded him intently; then nodded three times. 

"Surely, you're not the little chap who flies around with the wildgeese, and whom they call Thumbietot?"

"Oh, you're not so far out of the way, " said the boy. 

"What luck that I should have run across you! Perhaps you can tell mewho killed this water-snake?"

"The stone which I rolled down on him killed him, " replied the boy, andrelated how the whole thing happened. 

"That was cleverly done for one who is as tiny as you are!" said theraven. "I have a friend in these parts who will be glad to know thatthis snake has been killed, and I should like to render you a service inreturn. "

"Then tell me why you are glad the water-snake is dead, " responded theboy. 

"It's a long story, " said the raven; "you wouldn't have the patience tolisten to it. "

But the boy insisted that he had, and then the raven told him the wholestory about Karr and Grayskin and Helpless, the water-snake. When he hadfinished, the boy sat quietly for a moment, looking straight ahead. Thenhe spoke:

"I seem to like the forest better since hearing this. I wonder if thereis anything left of the old Liberty Forest. "'

"Most of it has been destroyed, " said Bataki. "The trees look as if theyhad passed through a fire. They'll have to be cleared away, and it willtake many years before the forest will be what it once was. "

"That snake deserved his death!" declared the boy. "But I wonder if itcould be possible that he was so wise he could send sickness to thecaterpillars?"

"Perhaps he knew that they frequently became sick in that way, "intimated Bataki. 

"Yes, that may be; but all the same, I must say that he was a very wilysnake. "

The boy stopped talking because he saw the raven was not listening tohim, but sitting with gaze averted. "Hark!" he said. "Karr is in thevicinity. Won't he be happy when he sees that Helpless is dead!"

The boy turned his head in the direction of the sound. 

"He's talking with the wild geese, " he said. 

"Oh, you may be sure that he has dragged himself down to the strand toget the latest news about Grayskin!"

Both the boy and the raven jumped to the ground, and hastened down tothe shore. All the geese had come out of the lake, and stood talkingwith an old dog, who was so weak and decrepit that it seemed as if hemight drop dead at any moment. 

"There's Karr, " said Bataki to the boy. "Let him hear first what thewild geese have to say to him; later we shall tell him that thewater-snake is dead. "

Presently they heard Akka talking to Karr. 

"It happened last year while we were making our usual spring trip, "remarked the leader-goose. "We started out one morning--Yksi, Kaksi, andI, and we flew over the great boundary forests between Dalecarlia andHälsingland. Under us we, saw only thick pine forests. The snow wasstill deep among the trees, and the creeks were mostly frozen. 

"Suddenly we noticed three poachers down in the forest! They were onskis, had dogs in leash, carried knives in their belts, but had no guns. 

"As there was a hard crust on the snow, they did not bother to take thewinding forest paths, but skied straight ahead. Apparently they knewvery well where they must go to find what they were seeking. 

"We wild geese flew on, high up in the air, so that the whole forestunder us was visible. When we sighted the poachers we wanted to find outwhere the game was, so we circled up and down, peering through thetrees. Then, in a dense thicket, we saw something that looked like big, moss-covered rocks, but couldn't be rocks, for there was no snow onthem. 

"We shot down, suddenly, and lit in the centre of the thicket. The threerocks moved. They were three elk--a bull and two cows--resting in thebleak forest. 

"When we alighted, the elk bull rose and came toward us. He was themost superb animal we had ever seen. When he saw that it was only somepoor wild geese that had awakened him, he lay down again. 

"'No, old granddaddy, you mustn't go back to sleep!' I cried. 'Flee asfast as you can! There are poachers in the forest, and they are boundfor this very deer fold. '

"'Thank you, goose mother!' said the elk. He seemed to be dropping tosleep while he was speaking. 'But surely you must know that we elk areunder the protection of the law at this time of the year. Those poachersare probably out for fox, ' he yawned. 

"'There are plenty of fox trails in the forest, but the poachers are notlooking for them. Believe me, old granddaddy! They know that you arelying here, and are coming to attack you. They have no guns withthem--only spears and knives--for they dare not fire a shot at thisseason. '

"The elk bull lay there calmly, but the elk cows seemed to feel uneasy. 

"'It may be as the geese say, ' they remarked, beginning to bestirthemselves. 

"'You just lie down!' said the elk bull. 'There are no poachers cominghere; of that you may be certain. '

"There was nothing more to be done, so we wild geese rose again into theair. But we continued to circle over the place, to see how it would turnout for the elk. 

"We had hardly reached our regular flying altitude, when we saw the elkbull come out from the thicket. He sniffed the air a little, then walkedstraight toward the poachers. As he strode along he stepped upon drytwigs that crackled noisily. A big barren marsh lay just beyond him. Thither he went and took his stand in the middle, where there wasnothing to hide him from view. 

"There he stood until the poachers emerged from the woods. Then heturned and fled in the opposite direction. The poachers let loose thedogs, and they themselves skied after him at full speed. 

"The elk threw back his head and loped as fast as he could. He kicked upsnow until it flew like a blizzard about him. Both dogs and men wereleft far behind. Then the elk stopped, as if to await their approach. When they were within sight he dashed ahead again. We understood that hewas purposely tempting the hunters away from the place where the cowswere. We thought it brave of him to face danger himself, in order thatthose who were dear to him might be left in safety. None of us wanted toleave the place until we had seen how all this was to end. 

"Thus the chase continued for two hours or more. We wondered that thepoachers went to the trouble of pursuing the elk when they were notarmed with rifles. They couldn't have thought that they could succeed intiring out a runner like him!

"Then we noticed that the elk no longer ran so rapidly. He stepped onthe snow more carefully, and every time he lifted his feet, blood couldbe seen in his tracks. 

"We understood why the poachers had been so persistent! They hadcounted on help from the snow. The elk was heavy, and with every step hesank to the bottom of the drift. The hard crust on the snow was scrapinghis legs. It scraped away the fur, and tore out pieces of flesh, so thathe was in torture every time he put his foot down. 

"The poachers and the dogs, who were so light that the ice crust couldhold their weight, pursued him all the while. He ran on and on--hissteps becoming more and more uncertain and faltering. He gasped forbreath. Not only did he suffer intense pain, but he was also exhaustedfrom wading through the deep snowdrifts. 

"At last he lost all patience. He paused to let poachers and dogs comeupon him, and was ready to fight them. As he stood there waiting, heglanced upward. When he saw us wild geese circling above him, he criedout:

"'Stay here, wild geese, until all is over! And the next time you flyover Kolmården, look up Karr, and ask him if he doesn't think that hisfriend Grayskin has met with a happy end?'"

When Akka had gone so far in her story the old dog rose and walkednearer to her. 

"Grayskin led a good life, " he said. "He understands me. He knows thatI'm a brave dog, and that I shall be glad to hear that he had a happyend. Now tell me how--"

He raised his tail and threw back his head, as if to give himself a boldand proud bearing--then he collapsed. 

"Karr! Karr!" called a man's voice from the forest. 

The old dog rose obediently. 

"My master is calling me, " he said, "and I must not tarry longer. I justsaw him load his gun. Now we two are going into the forest for the lasttime. 

"Many thanks, wild goose! I know everything that I need know to diecontent!"

THE WIND WITCH

IN NÄRKE

In bygone days there was something in Närke the like of which was not tobe found elsewhere: it was a witch, named Ysätter-Kaisa. 

The name Kaisa had been given her because she had a good deal to do withwind and storm--and these wind witches are always so called. The surnamewas added because she was supposed to have come from Ysätter swamp inAsker parish. 

It seemed as though her real abode must have been at Asker; but she usedalso to appear at other places. Nowhere in all Närke could one be sureof not meeting her. 

She was no dark, mournful witch, but gay and frolicsome; and what sheloved most of all was a gale of wind. As soon as there was wind enough, off she would fly to the Närke plain for a good dance. On days when awhirlwind swept the plain, Ysätter-Kaisa had fun! She would stand rightin the wind and spin round, her long hair flying up among the clouds andthe long trail of her robe sweeping the ground, like a dust cloud, whilethe whole plain lay spread out under her, like a ballroom floor. 

Of a morning Ysätter-Kaisa would sit up in some tall pine at the top ofa precipice, and look across the plain. If it happened to be winter andshe saw many teams on the roads she hurriedly blew up a blizzard, pilingthe drifts so high that people could barely get back to their homes byevening. If it chanced to be summer and good harvest weather, Ysätter-Kaisa would sit quietly until the first hayricks had beenloaded, then down she would come with a couple of heavy showers, whichput an end to the work for that day. 

It was only too true that she seldom thought of anything else thanraising mischief. The charcoal burners up in the Kil mountains hardlydared take a cat-nap, for as soon as she saw an unwatched kiln, shestole up and blew on it until it began to burn in a great flame. If themetal drivers from Laxå and Svartå were out late of an evening, Ysätter-Kaisa would veil the roads and the country round about in suchdark clouds that both men and horses lost their way and drove the heavytrucks down into swamps and morasses. 

If, on a summer's day, the dean's wife at Glanshammar had spread the teatable in the garden and along would come a gust of wind that lifted thecloth from the table and turned over cups and saucers, they knew who hadraised the mischief! If the mayor of Örebro's hat blew off, so that hehad to run across the whole square after it; if the wash on the lineblew away and got covered with dirt, or if the smoke poured into thecabins and seemed unable to find its way out through the chimney, it waseasy enough to guess who was out making merry!

Although Ysätter-Kaisa was fond of all sorts of tantalizing games, therewas nothing really bad about her. One could see that she was hardest onthose who were quarrelsome, stingy, or wicked; while honest folk andpoor little children she would take under her wing. Old people say ofher that, once, when Asker church was burning, Ysätter-Kaisa sweptthrough the air, lit amid fire and smoke on the church roof, and avertedthe disaster. 

All the same the Närke folk were often rather tired of Ysätter-Kaisa, but she never tired of playing her tricks on them. As she sat on theedge of a cloud and looked down upon Närke, which rested so peacefullyand comfortably beneath her, she must have thought: "The inhabitantswould fare much too well if I were not in existence. They would growsleepy and dull. There must be some one like myself to rouse them andkeep them in good spirits. "

Then she would laugh wildly and, chattering like a magpie, would rushoff, dancing and spinning from one end of the plain to the other. When aNärke man saw her come dragging her dust trail over the plain, he couldnot help smiling. Provoking and tiresome she certainly was, but she hada merry spirit. It was just as refreshing for the peasants to meetYsätter-Kaisa as it was for the plain to be lashed by the windstorm. 

Nowadays 'tis said that Ysätter-Kaisa is dead and gone, like all otherwitches, but this one can hardly believe. It is as if some one were tocome and tell you that henceforth the air would always be still on theplain, and the wind would never more dance across it with blusteringbreezes and drenching showers. 

He who fancies that Ysätter-Kaisa is dead and gone may as well hear whatoccurred in Närke the year that Nils Holgersson travelled over that partof the country. Then let him tell what he thinks about it. 

MARKET EVE

_Wednesday, April twenty-seventh_. 

It was the day before the big Cattle Fair at Örebro; it rained intorrents and people thought: "This is exactly as in Ysätter-Kaisa'stime! At fairs she used to be more prankish than usual. It was quite inher line to arrange a downpour like this on a market eve. "

As the day wore on, the rain increased, and toward evening came regularcloud-bursts. The roads were like bottomless swamps. The farmers who hadstarted from home with their cattle early in the morning, that theymight arrive at a seasonable hour, fared badly. Cows and oxen were sotired they could hardly move, and many of the poor beasts dropped downin the middle of the road, to show that they were too exhausted to goany farther. All who lived along the roadside had to open their doors tothe market-bound travellers, and harbour them as best they could. Farmhouses, barns, and sheds were soon crowded to their limit. 

Meanwhile, those who could struggle along toward the inn did so; butwhen they arrived they wished they had stopped at some cabin along theroad. All the cribs in the barn and all the stalls in the stable werealready occupied. There was no other choice than to let horses andcattle stand out in the rain. Their masters could barely manage to getunder cover. 

The crush and mud and slush in the barn yard were frightful! Some of theanimals were standing in puddles and could not even lie down. There werethoughtful masters, of course, who procured straw for their animals tolie on, and spread blankets over them; but there were those, also, whosat in the inn, drinking and gambling, entirely forgetful of the dumbcreatures which they should have protected. 

The boy and the wild geese had come to a little wooded island in HjälmarLake that evening. The island was separated from the main land by anarrow and shallow stream, and at low tide one could pass over itdry-shod. 

It rained just as hard on the island as it did everywhere else. The boycould not sleep for the water that kept dripping down on him. Finally hegot up and began to walk. He fancied that he felt the rain less when hemoved about. 

He had hardly circled the island, when he heard a splashing in thestream. Presently he saw a solitary horse tramping among the trees. Never in all his life had he seen such a wreck of a horse! He wasbroken-winded and stiff-kneed and so thin that every rib could be seenunder the hide. He bore neither harness nor saddle--only an old bridle, from which dangled a half-rotted rope-end. Obviously he had had nodifficulty in breaking loose. 

The horse walked straight toward the spot where the wild geese weresleeping. The boy was afraid that he would step on them. 

"Where are you going? Feel your ground!" shouted the boy. 

"Oh, there you are!" exclaimed the horse. "I've walked miles to meetyou!"

"Have you heard of me?" asked the boy, astonished. 

"I've got ears, even if I am old! There are many who talk of younowadays. "

As he spoke, the horse bent his head that he might see better, and theboy noticed that he had a small head, beautiful eyes, and a soft, sensitive nose. 

"He must have been a good horse at the start, though he has come togrief in his old age, " he thought. 

"I wish you would come with me and help me with something, " pleaded thehorse. 

The boy thought it would be embarrassing to accompany a creature wholooked so wretched, and excused himself on account of the bad weather. 

"You'll be no worse off on my back than you are lying here, " said thehorse. "But perhaps you don't dare to go with an old tramp of a horselike me. "

"Certainly I dare!" said the boy. 

"Then wake the geese, so that we can arrange with them where they shallcome for you to-morrow, " said the horse. 

The boy was soon seated on the animal's back. The old nag trotted alongbetter than he had thought possible. It was a long ride in the rain anddarkness before they halted near a large inn, where everything lookedterribly uninviting! The wheel tracks were so deep in the road that theboy feared he might drown should he fall down into them. Alongside thefence, which enclosed the yard, some thirty or forty horses and cattlewere tied, with no protection against the rain, and in the yard werewagons piled with packing cases, where sheep, calves, hogs, and chickenswere shut in. 

The horse walked over to the fence and stationed himself. The boyremained seated upon his back, and, with his good night eyes, plainlysaw how badly the animals fared. 

"How do you happen to be standing out here in the rain?" he asked. 

"We're on our way to a fair at Örebro, but we were obliged to put uphere on account of the rain. This is an inn; but so many travellers havealready arrived that there's no room for us in the barns. "

The boy made no reply, but sat quietly looking about him. Not many ofthe animals were asleep, and on all sides he heard complaints andindignant protests. They had reason enough for grumbling, for theweather was even worse than it had been earlier in the day. A freezingwind had begun to blow, and the rain which came beating down on themwas turning to snow. It was easy enough to understand what the horsewanted the boy to help him with. 

"Do you see that fine farm yard directly opposite the inn?" remarked thehorse. 

"Yes, I see it, " answered the boy, "and I can't comprehend why theyhaven't tried to find shelter for all of you in there. They are alreadyfull, perhaps?"

"No, there are no strangers in that place, " said the horse. "The peoplewho live on that farm are so stingy and selfish that it would be uselessfor any one to ask them for harbour. "

"If that's the case, I suppose you'll have to stand where you are. "

"I was born and raised on that farm, " said the horse; "I know that thereis a large barn and a big cow shed, with many empty stalls and mangers, and I was wondering if you couldn't manage in some way or other to getus in over there. "

"I don't think I could venture--" hesitated the boy. But he felt sosorry for the poor beasts that he wanted at least to try. 

He ran into the strange barn yard and saw at once that all the outhouseswere locked and the keys gone. He stood there, puzzled and helpless, when aid came to him from an unexpected source. A gust of wind camesweeping along with terrific force and flung open a shed door right infront of him. 

The boy was not long in getting back to the horse. 

"It isn't possible to get into the barn or the cow house, " he said, "butthere's a big, empty hay shed that they have forgotten to bolt. I canlead you into that. "

"Thank you!" said the horse. "It will seem good to sleep once more onfamiliar ground. It's the only happiness I can expect in this life. "

Meanwhile, at the flourishing farm opposite the inn, the family sat upmuch later than usual that evening. 

The master of the place was a man of thirty-five, tall and dignified, with a handsome but melancholy face. During the day he had been out inthe rain and had got wet, like every one else, and at supper he askedhis old mother, who was still mistress of the place, to light a fire onthe hearth that he might dry his clothes. The mother kindled a feebleblaze--for in that house they were not wasteful with wood--and themaster hung his coat on the back of a chair, and placed it before thefire. With one foot on top of the andiron and a hand resting on hisknee, he stood gazing into the embers. Thus he stood for two wholehours, making no move other than to cast a log on the fire now and then. 

The mistress removed the supper things and turned down his bed for thenight before she went to her own room and seated herself. At intervalsshe came to the door and looked wonderingly at her son. 

"It's nothing, mother. I'm only thinking, " he said. 

His thoughts were on something that had occurred shortly before: When hepassed the inn a horse dealer had asked him if he would not like topurchase a horse, and had shown him an old nag so weather-beaten that heasked the dealer if he took him for a fool, since he wished to palm offsuch a played-out beast on him. 

"Oh, no!" said the horse dealer. "I only thought that, inasmuch as thehorse once belonged to you, you might wish to give him a comfortablehome in his old age; he has need of it. "

Then he looked at the horse and recognized it as one which he himselfhad raised and broken in; but it did not occur to him to purchase suchan old and useless creature on that account. No, indeed! He was not onewho squandered his money. 

All the same, the sight of the horse had awakened many, memories--and itwas the memories that kept him awake. 

That horse had been a fine animal. His father had let him tend it fromthe start. He had broken it in and had loved it above everything else. His father had complained that he used to feed it too well, and often hehad been obliged to steal out and smuggle oats to it. 

Once, when he ventured to talk with his father about letting him buy abroadcloth suit, or having the cart painted, his father stood as ifpetrified, and he thought the old man would have a stroke. He tried tomake his father understand that, when he had a fine horse to drive, heshould look presentable himself. 

The father made no reply, but two days later he took the horse to Örebroand sold it. 

It was cruel of him. But it was plain that his father had feared thatthis horse might lead him into vanity and extravagance. And now, so longafterward, he had to admit that his father was right. A horse like thatsurely would have been a temptation. At first he had grieved terriblyover his loss. Many a time he had gone down to Örebro, just to stand ona street corner and see the horse pass by, or to steal into the stableand give him a lump of sugar. He thought: "If I ever get the farm, thefirst thing I do will be to buy back my horse. "

Now his father was gone and he himself had been master for two years, but he had not made a move toward buying the horse. He had not thoughtof him for ever so long, until to-night. 

It was strange that he should have forgotten the beast so entirely!

His father had been a very headstrong, domineering man. When his son wasgrown and the two had worked together, the father had gained absolutepower over him. The boy had come to think that everything his father didwas right, and, after he became the master, he only tried to do exactlyas his father would have done. 

He knew, of course, that folk said his father was stingy; but it waswell to keep a tight hold on one's purse and not throw away moneyneedlessly. The goods one has received should not be wasted. It wasbetter to live on a debt-free place and be called stingy, than to carryheavy mortgages, like other farm owners. 

He had gone so far in his mind when he was called back by a strangesound. It was as if a shrill, mocking voice were repeating his thoughts:"It's better to keep a firm hold on one's purse and be called stingy, than to be in debt, like other farm owners. "

It sounded as if some one was trying to make sport of his wisdom and hewas about to lose his temper, when he realized that it was all amistake. The wind was beginning to rage, and he had been standing theregetting so sleepy that he mistook the howling of the wind in the chimneyfor human speech. 

He glanced up at the wall clock, which just then struck eleven. 

"It's time that you were in bed, " he remarked to himself. Then heremembered that he had not yet gone the rounds of the farm yard, as itwas his custom to do every night, to make sure that all doors wereclosed and all lights extinguished. This was something he had neverneglected since he became master. He drew on his coat and went out inthe storm. 

He found everything as it should be, save that the door to the empty hayshed had been blown open by the wind. He stepped inside for the key, locked the shed door and put the key into his coat pocket. Then he wentback to the house, removed his coat, and hung it before the fire. Evennow he did not retire, but began pacing the floor. The storm without, with its biting wind and snow-blended rain, was terrible, and his oldhorse was standing in this storm without so much as a blanket to protecthim! He should at least have given his old friend a roof over his head, since he had come such a long distance. 

At the inn across the way the boy heard an old wall clock strike eleventimes. Just then he was untying the animals to lead them to the shed inthe farm yard opposite. It took some time to rouse them and get theminto line. When all were ready, they marched in a long procession intothe stingy farmer's yard, with the boy as their guide. While the boy hadbeen assembling them, the farmer had gone the rounds of the farm yardand locked the hay shed, so that when the animals came along the doorwas closed. The boy stood there dismayed. He could not let the creaturesstand out there! He must go into the house and find the key. 

"Keep them quiet out here while I go in and fetch the key!" he said tothe old horse, and off he ran. 

On the path right in front of the house he paused to think out how heshould get inside. As he stood there he noticed two little wandererscoming down the road, who stopped before the inn. 

The boy saw at once that they were two little girls, and ran towardthem. 

"Come now, Britta Maja!" said one, "you mustn't cry any more. Now we areat the inn. Here they will surely take us in. "

The girl had but just said this when the boy called to her:

"No, you mustn't try to get in there. It is simply impossible. But atthe farm house opposite there are no guests. Go there instead. "

The little girls heard the words distinctly, though they could not seethe one who spoke to them. They did not wonder much at that, however, for the night was as black as pitch. The larger of the girls promptlyanswered:

"We don't care to enter that place, because those who live there arestingy and cruel. It is their fault that we two must go out on thehighways and beg. "

"That may be so, " said the boy, "but all the same you should go there. You shall see that it will be well for you. "

"We can try, but it is doubtful that they will even let us enter, "observed the two little girls as they walked up to the house andknocked. 

The master was standing by the fire thinking of the horse when he heardthe knocking. He stepped to the door to see what was up, thinking allthe while that he would not let himself be tempted into admitting anywayfarer. As he fumbled the lock, a gust of wind came along, wrenchedthe door from his hand and swung it open. To close it, he had to stepout on the porch, and, when he stepped back into the house, the twolittle girls were standing within. 

They were two poor beggar girls, ragged, dirty, and starving--two littletots bent under the burden of their beggar's packs, which were as largeas themselves. 

"Who are you that go prowling about at this hour of the night?" said themaster gruffly. 

The two children did not answer immediately, but first removed theirpacks. Then they walked up to the man and stretched forth their tinyhands in greeting. 

"We are Anna and Britta Maja from the Engärd, " said the elder, "and wewere going to ask for a night's lodging. "

He did not take the outstretched hands and was just about to drive outthe beggar children, when a fresh recollection faced him. Engärd--wasnot that a little cabin where a poor widow with five children had lived?The widow had owed his father a few hundred kroner and in order to getback his money he had sold her cabin. After that the widow, with herthree eldest children, went to Norrland to seek employment, and the twoyoungest became a charge on the parish. 

As he called this to mind he grew bitter. He knew that his father hadbeen severely censured for squeezing out that money, which by rightbelonged to him. 

"What are you doing nowadays?" he asked in a cross tone. "Didn't theboard of charities take charge of you? Why do you roam around and beg?"

"It's not our fault, " replied the larger girl. "The people with whom weare living have sent us out to beg. "

"Well, your packs are filled, " the farmer observed, "so you can'tcomplain. Now you'd better take out some of the food you have with youand eat your fill, for here you'll get no food, as all the women folkare in bed. Later you may lie down in the corner by the hearth, so youwon't have to freeze. "

He waved his hand, as if to ward them off, and his eyes took on a hardlook. He was thankful that he had had a father who had been careful ofhis property. Otherwise, he might perhaps have been forced in childhoodto run about and beg, as these children now did. 

No sooner had he thought this out to the end than the shrill, mockingvoice he had heard once before that evening repeated it, word for word. 

He listened, and at once understood that it was nothing--only the windroaring in the chimney. But the queer thing about it was, when the windrepeated his thoughts, they seemed so strangely stupid and hard andfalse!

The children meanwhile had stretched themselves, side by side, on thefloor. They were not quiet, but lay there muttering. 

"Do be still, won't you?" he growled, for he was in such an irritablemood that he could have beaten them. 

But the mumbling continued, and again he called for silence. 

"When mother went away, " piped a clear little voice, "she made mepromise that every night I would say my evening prayer. I must do this, and Britta Maja too. As soon as we have said 'God who cares for littlechildren--' we'll be quiet. "

The master sat quite still while the little ones said their prayers, then he rose and began pacing back and forth, back and forth, wringinghis hands all the while, as though he had met with some great sorrow. 

"The horse driven out and wrecked, these two children turned into roadbeggars--both father's doings! Perhaps father did not do right afterall?" he thought. 

He sat down again and buried his head in his hands. Suddenly his lipsbegan to quiver and into his eyes came tears, which he hastily wipedaway. Fresh tears came, and he was just as prompt to brush these away;but it was useless, for more followed. 

When his mother stepped into the room, he swung his chair quickly andturned his back to her. She must have noticed something unusual, for shestood quietly behind him a long while, as if waiting for him to speak. She realized how difficult it always is for men to talk of the thingsthey feel most deeply. She must help him of course. 

From her bedroom she had observed all that had taken place in the livingroom, so that she did not have to ask questions. She walked very softlyover to the two sleeping children, lifted them, and bore them to her ownbed. Then she went back to her son. 

"Lars, " she said, as if she did not see that he was weeping, "you hadbetter let me keep these children. "

"What, mother?" he gasped, trying to smother the sobs. 

"I have been suffering for years--ever since father took the cabin fromtheir mother, and so have you. "

"Yes, but--"

"I want to keep them here and make something of them; they are too goodto beg. "

He could not speak, for now the tears were beyond his control; but hetook his old mother's withered hand and patted it. 

Then he jumped up, as if something had frightened him. 

"What would father have said of this?"

"Father had his day at ruling, " retorted the mother. "Now it is yourday. As long as father lived we had to obey him. Now is the time to showwhat you are. "

Her son was so astonished that he ceased crying. 

"But I have just shown what I am!" he returned. 

"No, you haven't, " protested the mother. "You only try to be like him. Father experienced hard times, which made him fear poverty. He believedthat he had to think of himself first. But you have never had anydifficulties that should make you hard. You have more than you need, andit would be unnatural of you not to think of others. "

When the two little girls entered the house the boy slipped in behindthem and secreted himself in a dark corner. He had not been there longbefore he caught a glimpse of the shed key, which the farmer had thrustinto his coat pocket. 

"When the master of the house drives the children out, I'll take the keyand ran, " he thought. 

But the children were not driven out and the boy crouched in the corner, not knowing what he should do next. 

The mother talked long with her son, and while she was speaking hestopped weeping. Gradually his features softened; he looked like anotherperson. All the while he was stroking the wasted old hand. 

"Now we may as well retire, " said the old lady when she saw that he wascalm again. 

"No, " he said, suddenly rising, "I cannot retire yet. There's a strangerwithout whom I must shelter to-night!"

He said nothing further, but quickly drew on his coat, lit the lanternand went out. There were the same wind and chill without, but as hestepped to the porch he began to sing softly. He wondered if the horsewould know him, and if he would be glad to come back to his old stable. 

As he crossed the house yard he heard a door slam. 

"That shed door has blown open again, " he thought, and went over toclose it. 

A moment later he stood by the shed and was just going to shut the door, when he heard a rustling within. 

The boy, who had watched his opportunity, had run directly to the shed, where he left the animals, but they were no longer out in the rain: Astrong wind had long since thrown open the door and helped them to get aroof over their heads. The patter which the master heard was occasionedby the boy running into the shed. 

By the light of the lantern the man could see into the shed. The wholefloor was covered with sleeping cattle. There was no human being to beseen; the animals were not bound, but were lying, here and there, in thestraw. 

He was enraged at the intrusion and began storming and shrieking torouse the sleepers and drive them out. But the creatures lay still andwould not let themselves be disturbed. The only one that rose was an oldhorse that came slowly toward him. 

All of a sudden the man became silent. He recognized the beast by itsgait. He raised the lantern, and the horse came over and laid its headon his shoulder. The master patted and stroked it. 

"My old horsy, my old horsy!" he said. "What have they done to you? Yes, dear, I'll buy you back. You'll never again have to leave this place. You shall do whatever you like, horsy mine! Those whom you have broughtwith you may remain here, but you shall come with me to the stable. NowI can give you all the oats you are able to eat, without having tosmuggle them. And you're not all used up, either! The handsomest horseon the church knoll--that's what you shall be once more! There, there!There, there!"

THE BREAKING UP OF THE ICE

_Thursday, April twenty-eighth_. 

The following day the weather was clear and beautiful. There was astrong west wind; people were glad of that, for it dried up the roads, which had been soaked by the heavy rains of the day before. 

Early in the morning the two Småland children, Osa, the goose girl, andlittle Mats, were out on the highway leading from Sörmland to Närke. Theroad ran alongside the southern shore of Hjälmar Lake and the childrenwere walking along looking at the ice, which covered the greater part ofit. The morning sun darted its clear rays upon the ice, which did notlook dark and forbidding, like most spring ice, but sparkled temptingly. As far as they could see, the ice was firm and dry. The rain had rundown into cracks and hollows, or been absorbed by the ice itself. Thechildren saw only the sound ice. 

Osa, the goose girl, and little Mats were on their way North, and theycould not help thinking of all the steps they would be saved if theycould cut straight across the lake instead of going around it. Theyknew, to be sure, that spring ice is treacherous, but this lookedperfectly secure. They could see that it was several inches thick nearthe shore. They saw a path which they might follow, and the oppositeshore appeared to be so near that they ought to be able to get there inan hour. 

"Come, let's try!" said little Mats. "If we only look before us, so thatwe don't go down into some hole, we can do it. "

So they went out on the lake. The ice was not very slippery, but rathereasy to walk upon. There was more water on it than they expected to see, and here and there were cracks, where the water purled up. One had towatch out for such places; but that was easy to do in broad daylight, with the sun shining. 

The children advanced rapidly, and talked only of how sensible they wereto have gone out on the ice instead of tramping the slushy road. 

When they had been walking a while they came to Vin Island, where an oldwoman had sighted them from her window. She rushed from her cabin, wavedthem back, and shouted something which they could not hear. Theyunderstood perfectly well that she was warning them not to come anyfarther; but they thought there was no immediate danger. It would bestupid for them to leave the ice when all was going so well!

Therefore they went on past Vin Island and had a stretch of seven milesof ice ahead of them. 

Out there was so much water that the children were obliged to takeroundabout ways; but that was sport to them. They vied with each otheras to which could find the soundest ice. They were neither tired norhungry. The whole day was before them, and they laughed at each obstaclethey met. 

Now and then they cast a glance ahead at the farther shore. It stillappeared far away, although they had been walking a good hour. They wererather surprised that the lake was so broad. 

"The shore seems to be moving farther away from us, " little Matsobserved. 

Out there the children were not protected against the wind, which wasbecoming stronger and stronger every minute, and was pressing theirclothing so close to their bodies that they could hardly go on. The coldwind was the first disagreeable thing they had met with on the journey. 

But the amazing part of it was that the wind came sweeping along with aloud roar--as if it brought with it the noise of a large mill orfactory, though nothing of the kind was to be found out there on theice. They had walked to the west of the big island, Valen; now theythought they were nearing the north shore. Suddenly the wind began toblow more and more, while the loud roaring increased so rapidly thatthey began to feel uneasy. 

All at once it occurred to them that the roar was caused by the foamingand rushing of the waves breaking against a shore. Even this seemedimprobable, since the lake was still covered with ice. 

At all events, they paused and looked about. They noticed far in thewest a white bank which stretched clear across the lake. At first theythought it was a snowbank alongside a road. Later they realized it wasthe foam-capped waves dashing against the ice! They took hold of handsand ran without saying a word. Open sea lay beyond in the west, andsuddenly the streak of foam appeared to be moving eastward. Theywondered if the ice was going to break all over. What was going tohappen? They felt now that they were in great danger. 

All at once it seemed as if the ice under their feet rose--rose andsank, as if some one from below were pushing it. Presently they heard ahollow boom, and then there were cracks in the ice all around them. Thechildren could see how they crept along under the ice-covering. 

The next moment all was still, then the rising and sinking began again. Thereupon the cracks began to widen into crevices through which thewater bubbled up. By and by the crevices became gaps. Soon after thatthe ice was divided into large floes. 

"Osa, " said little Mats, "this must be the breaking up of the ice!"

"Why, so it is, little Mats, " said Osa, "but as yet we can get to land. Run for your life!"

As a matter of fact, the wind and waves had a good deal of work to doyet to clear the ice from the lake. The hardest part was done when theice-cake burst into pieces, but all these pieces must be broken andhurled against each other, to be crushed, worn down, and dissolved. There was still a great deal of hard and sound ice left, which formedlarge, unbroken surfaces. 

The greatest danger for the children lay in the fact that they had nogeneral view of the ice. They did not see the places where the gaps wereso wide that they could not possibly jump over them, nor did they knowwhere to find any floes that would hold them, so they wandered aimlesslyback and forth, going farther out on the lake instead of nearer land. Atlast, confused and terrified, they stood still and wept. 

Then a flock of wild geese in rapid flight came rushing by. Theyshrieked loudly and sharply; but the strange thing was that above thegeese-cackle the little children heard these words:

"You must go to the right, the right, the right!" They began at once tofollow the advice; but before long they were again standing irresolute, facing another broad gap. 

Again they heard the geese shrieking above them, and again, amid thegeese-cackle, they distinguished a few words:

"Stand where you are! Stand where you are!"

The children did not say a word to each other, but obeyed and stoodstill. Soon after that the ice-floes floated together, so that theycould cross the gap. Then they took hold of hands again and ran. Theywere afraid not only of the peril, but of the mysterious help that hadcome to them. 

Soon they had to stop again, and immediately the sound of the voicereached them. 

"Straight ahead, straight ahead!" it said. 

This leading continued for about half an hour; by that time they hadreached Ljunger Point, where they left the ice and waded to shore. Theywere still terribly frightened, even though they were on firm land. Theydid not stop to look back at the lake--where the waves were pitching theice-floes faster and faster--but ran on. When they had gone a shortdistance along the point, Osa paused suddenly. 

"Wait here, little Mats, " she said; "I have forgotten something. "

Osa, the goose girl, went down to the strand again, where she stopped torummage in her bag. Finally she fished out a little wooden shoe, whichshe placed on a stone where it could be plainly seen. Then she ran tolittle Mats without once looking back. 

But the instant her back was turned, a big white goose shot down fromthe sky, like a streak of lightning, snatched the wooden shoe, and flewaway with it. 

THUMBIETOT AND THE BEARS

THE IRONWORKS

_Thursday, April twenty-eighth_. 

When the wild geese and Thumbietot had helped Osa, the goose girl, andlittle Mats across the ice, they flew into Westmanland, where theyalighted in a grain field to feed and rest. 

A strong west wind blew almost the entire day on which the wild geesetravelled over the mining districts, and as soon as they attempted todirect their course northward they were buffeted toward the east. Now, Akka thought that Smirre Fox was at large in the eastern part of theprovince; therefore she would not fly in that direction, but turnedback, time and again, struggling westward with great difficulty. At thisrate the wild geese advanced very slowly, and late in the afternoon theywere still in the Westmanland mining districts. Toward evening the windabated suddenly, and the tired travellers hoped that they would have aninterval of easy flight before sundown. Then along came a violent gustof wind, which tossed the geese before it, like balls, and the boy, whowas sitting comfortably, with no thought of peril, was lifted from thegoose's back and hurled into space. 

Little and light as he was, he could not fall straight to the ground insuch a wind; so at first he was carried along with it, drifting downslowly and spasmodically, as a leaf falls from a tree. 

"Why, this isn't so bad!" thought the boy as he fell. "I'm tumbling aseasily as if I were only a scrap of paper. Morten Goosey-Gander willdoubtless hurry along and pick me up. "

The first thing the boy did when he landed was to tear off his cap andwave it, so that the big white gander should see where he was. 

"Here am I, where are you? Here am I, where are you?" he called, and wasrather surprised that Morten Goosey-Gander was not already at his side. 

But the big white gander was not to be seen, nor was the wild gooseflock outlined against the sky. It had entirely disappeared. 

He thought this rather singular, but he was neither worried norfrightened. Not for a second did it occur to him that folk like Akka andMorten Goosey-Gander would abandon him. The unexpected gust of wind hadprobably borne them along with it. As soon as they could manage to turn, they would surely come back and fetch him. 

But what was this? Where on earth was he anyway? He had been standinggazing toward the sky for some sign of the geese, but now he happened toglance about him. He had not come down on even ground, but had droppedinto a deep, wide mountain cave--or whatever it might be. It was aslarge as a church, with almost perpendicular walls on all four sides, and with no roof at all. On the ground were some huge rocks, betweenwhich moss and lignon-brush and dwarfed birches grew. Here and there inthe wall were projections, from which swung rickety ladders. At one sidethere was a dark passage, which apparently led far into the mountain. 

The boy had not been travelling over the mining districts a whole dayfor nothing. He comprehended at once that the big cleft had been made bythe men who had mined ore in this place. 

"I must try and climb back to earth again, " he thought, "otherwise Ifear that my companions won't find me!"

He was about to go over to the wall when some one seized him frombehind, and he heard a gruff voice growl in his ear: "Who are you?"

The boy turned quickly, and, in the confusion of the moment, he thoughthe was facing a huge rock, covered with brownish moss. Then he noticedthat the rock had broad paws to walk with, a head, two eyes, and agrowling mouth. 

He could not pull himself together to answer, nor did the big beastappear to expect it of him, for it knocked him down, rolled him back andforth with its paws, and nosed him. It seemed just about ready toswallow him, when it changed its mind and called:

"Brumme and Mulle, come here, you cubs, and you shall have somethinggood to eat!"

A pair of frowzy cubs, as uncertain on their feet and as woolly aspuppies, came tumbling along. 

"What have you got, Mamma Bear? May we see, oh, may we see?" shriekedthe cubs excitedly. 

"Oho! so I've fallen in with bears, " thought the boy to himself. "NowSmirre Fox won't have to trouble himself further to chase after me!"

The mother bear pushed the boy along to the cubs. One of them nabbed himquickly and ran off with him; but he did not bite hard. He was playfuland wanted to amuse himself awhile with Thumbietot before eating him. The other cub was after the first one to snatch the boy for himself, andas he lumbered along he managed to tumble straight down on the head ofthe one that carried the boy. So the two cubs rolled over each other, biting, clawing, and snarling. 

During the tussle the boy got loose, ran over to the wall, and startedto scale it. Then both cubs scurried after him, and, nimbly scaling thecliff, they caught up with him and tossed him down on the moss, like aball. 

"Now I know how a poor little mousie fares when it falls into the cat'sclaws, " thought the boy. 

He made several attempts to get away. He ran deep down into the oldtunnel and hid behind the rocks and climbed the birches, but the cubshunted him out, go where he would. The instant they caught him they lethim go, so that he could run away again and they should have the fun ofrecapturing him. 

At last the boy got so sick and tired of it all that he threw himselfdown on the ground. 

"Run away, " growled the cubs, "or we'll eat you up!"

"You'll have to eat me then, " said the boy, "for I can't run any more. "

Immediately both cubs rushed over to the mother bear and complained:

"Mamma Bear, oh, Mamma Bear, he won't play any more. "

"Then you must divide him evenly between you, " said Mother Bear. 

When the boy heard this he was so scared that he jumped up instantly andbegan playing again. 

As it was bedtime, Mother Bear called to the cubs that they must comenow and cuddle up to her and go to sleep. They had been having such agood time that they wished to continue their play next day; so they tookthe boy between them and laid their paws over him. They did not want himto move without waking them. They went to sleep immediately. The boythought that after a while he would try to steal away. But never in allhis life had he been so tumbled and tossed and hunted and rolled! And hewas so tired out that he too fell asleep. 

By and by Father Bear came clambering down the mountain wall. The boywas wakened by his tearing away stone and gravel as he swung himselfinto the old mine. The boy was afraid to move much; but he managed tostretch himself and turn over, so that he could see the big bear. He wasa frightfully coarse, huge old beast, with great paws, large, glisteningtusks, and wicked little eyes! The boy could not help shuddering as helooked at this old monarch of the forest. 

"It smells like a human being around here, " said Father Bear the instanthe came up to Mother Bear, and his growl was as the rolling of thunder. 

"How can you imagine anything so absurd?" said Mother Bear withoutdisturbing herself. "It has been settled for good and all that we arenot to harm mankind any more; but if one of them were to put in anappearance here, where the cubs and I have our quarters, there wouldn'tbe enough left of him for you to catch even a scent of him!"

Father Bear lay down beside Mother Bear. "You ought to know me wellenough to understand that I don't allow anything dangerous to come nearthe cubs. Talk, instead, of what you have been doing. I haven't seen youfor a whole week!"

"I've been looking about for a new residence, " said Father Bear. "FirstI went over to Vermland, to learn from our kinsmen at Ekshärad how theyfared in that country; but I had my trouble for nothing. There wasn't abear's den left in the whole forest. "

"I believe the humans want the whole earth to themselves, " said MotherBear. "Even if we leave people and cattle in peace and live solely uponlignon and insects and green things, we cannot remain unmolested in theforest! I wonder where we could move to in order to live in peace?"

"We've lived comfortably for many years in this pit, " observed FatherBear. "But I can't be content here now since the big noise-shop has beenbuilt right in our neighbourhood. Lately I have been taking a look atthe land east of Dal River, over by Garpen Mountain. Old mine pits areplentiful there, too, and other fine retreats. I thought it looked as ifone might be fairly protected against men--"

The instant Father Bear said this he sat up and began to sniff. 

"It's extraordinary that whenever I speak of human beings I catch thatqueer scent again, " he remarked. 

"Go and see for yourself if you don't believe me!" challenged MotherBear. "I should just like to know where a human being could manage tohide down here?"

The bear walked all around the cave, and nosed. Finally he went back andlay down without a word. 

"What did I tell you?" said Mother Bear. "But of course you think thatno one but yourself has any nose or ears!"

"One can't be too careful, with such neighbours as we have, " said FatherBear gently. Then he leaped up with a roar. As luck would have it, oneof the cubs had moved a paw over to Nils Holgersson's face and the poorlittle wretch could not breathe, but began to sneeze. It was impossiblefor Mother Bear to keep Father Bear back any longer. He pushed the youngones to right and left and caught sight of the boy before he had time tosit up. 

He would have swallowed him instantly if Mother Bear had not castherself between them. 

"Don't touch him! He belongs to the cubs, " she said. "They have hadsuch fun with him the whole evening that they couldn't bear to eat himup, but wanted to save him until morning. "

Father Bear pushed Mother Bear aside. 

"Don't meddle with what you don't understand!" he roared. "Can't youscent that human odour about him from afar? I shall eat him at once, orhe will play us some mean trick. "

He opened his jaws again; but meanwhile the boy had had time to think, and, quick as a flash, he dug into his knapsack and brought forth somematches--his sole weapon of defence--struck one on his leather breeches, and stuck the burning match into the bear's open mouth. 

Father Bear snorted when he smelled the sulphur, and with that the flamewent out. The boy was ready with another match, but, curiously enough, Father Bear did not repeat his attack. 

"Can you light many of those little blue roses?" asked Father Bear. 

"I can light enough to put an end to the whole forest, " replied the boy, for he thought that in this way he might be able to scare Father Bear. 

"Oh, that would be no trick for me!" boasted the boy, hoping that thiswould make the bear respect him. 

"Good!" exclaimed the bear. "You shall render me a service. Now I'm veryglad that I did not eat you!"

Father Bear carefully took the boy between his tusks and climbed up fromthe pit. He did this with remarkable ease and agility, considering thathe was so big and heavy. As soon as he was up, he speedily made for thewoods. It was evident that Father Bear was created to squeeze throughdense forests. The heavy body pushed through the brushwood as a boatdoes through the water. 

Father Bear ran along till he came to a hill at the skirt of the forest, where he could see the big noise-shop. Here he lay down and placed theboy in front of him, holding him securely between his forepaws. 

"Now look down at that big noise-shop!" he commanded. The greatironworks, with many tall buildings, stood at the edge of a waterfall. High chimneys sent forth dark clouds of smoke, blasting furnaces were infull blaze, and light shone from all the windows and apertures. Withinhammers and rolling mills were going with such force that the air rangwith their clatter and boom. All around the workshops proper wereimmense coal sheds, great slag heaps, warehouses, wood piles, and toolsheds. Just beyond were long rows of workingmen's homes, pretty villas, schoolhouses, assembly halls, and shops. But there all was quiet andapparently everybody was asleep. The boy did not glance in thatdirection, but gazed intently at the ironworks. The earth around themwas black; the sky above them was like a great fiery dome; the rapids, white with foam, rushed by; while the buildings themselves were sendingout light and smoke, fire and sparks. It was the grandest sight the boyhad ever seen!

"Surely you don't mean to say you can set fire to a place like that?"remarked the bear doubtingly. 

The boy stood wedged between the beast's paws thinking the only thingthat might save him would be that the bear should have a high opinion ofhis capability and power. 

"It's all the same to me, " he answered with a superior air. "Big orlittle, I can burn it down. "

"Then I'll tell you something, " said Father Bear. "My forefathers livedin this region from the time that the forests first sprang up. Fromthem I inherited hunting grounds and pastures, lairs and retreats, andhave lived here in peace all my life. In the beginning I wasn't troubledmuch by the human kind. They dug in the mountains and picked up a littleore down here, by the rapids; they had a forge and a furnace, but thehammers sounded only a few hours during the day, and the furnace was notfired more than two moons at a stretch. It wasn't so bad but that Icould stand it; but these last years, since they have built thisnoise-shop, which keeps up the same racket both day and night, life herehas become intolerable. Formerly only a manager and a couple ofblacksmiths lived here, but now there are so many people that I cannever feel safe from them. I thought that I should have to move away, but I have discovered something better!"

The boy wondered what Father Bear had hit upon, but no opportunity wasafforded him to ask, as the bear took him between his tusks again andlumbered down the hill. The boy could see nothing, but knew by theincreasing noise that they were approaching the rolling mills. 

Father Bear was well informed regarding the ironworks. He had prowledaround there on many a dark night, had observed what went on within, andhad wondered if there would never be any cessation of the work. He hadtested the walls with his paws and wished that he were only strongenough to knock down the whole structure with a single blow. 

He was not easily distinguishable against the dark ground, and when, inaddition, he remained in the shadow of the walls, there was not muchdanger of his being discovered. Now he walked fearlessly between theworkshops and climbed to the top of a slag heap. There he sat up on hishaunches, took the boy between his forepaws and held him up. 

"Try to look into the house!" he commanded. A strong current of air wasforced into a big cylinder which was suspended from the ceiling andfilled with molten iron. As this current rushed into the mess of ironwith an awful roar, showers of sparks of all colours spurted up inbunches, in sprays, in long clusters! They struck against the wall andcame splashing down over the whole big room. Father Bear let the boywatch the gorgeous spectacle until the blowing was over and the flowingand sparkling red steel had been poured into ingot moulds. 

The boy was completely charmed by the marvellous display and almostforgot that he was imprisoned between a bear's two paws. 

Father Bear let him look into the rolling mill. He saw a workman take ashort, thick bar of iron at white heat from a furnace opening and placeit under a roller. When the iron came out from under the roller, it wasflattened and extended. Immediately another workman seized it and placedit beneath a heavier roller, which made it still longer and thinner. Thus it was passed from roller to roller, squeezed and drawn out until, finally, it curled along the floor, like a long red thread. 

But while the first bar of iron was being pressed, a second was takenfrom the furnace and placed under the rollers, and when this was alittle along, a third was brought. Continuously fresh threads camecrawling over the floor, like hissing snakes. The boy was dazzled by theiron. But he found it more splendid to watch the workmen who, dexterously and delicately, seized the glowing snakes with their tongsand forced them under the rollers. It seemed like play for them tohandle the hissing iron. 

"I call that real man's work!" the boy remarked to himself. 

The bear then let the boy have a peep at the furnace and the forge, andhe became more and more astonished as he saw how the blacksmiths handlediron and fire. 

"Those men have no fear of heat and flames, " he thought. The workmenwere sooty and grimy. He fancied they were some sort of firefolk--thatwas why they could bend and mould the iron as they wished. He could notbelieve that they were just ordinary men, since they had such power!

"They keep this up day after day, night after night, " said Father Bear, as he dropped wearily down on the ground. "You can understand that onegets rather tired of that kind of thing. I'm mighty glad that at last Ican put an end to it!"

"Indeed!" said the boy. "How will you go about it?"

"Oh, I thought that you were going to set fire to the buildings!" saidFather Bear. "That would put an end to all this work, and I could remainin my old home. "

The boy was all of a shiver. 

So it was for this that Father Bear had brought him here!

"If you will set fire to the noise-works, I'll promise to spare yourlife, " said Father Bear. "But if you don't do it, I'll make short workof you!" The huge workshops were built of brick, and the boy wasthinking to himself that Father Bear could command as much as he liked, it was impossible to obey him. Presently he saw that it might not beimpossible after all. Just beyond them lay a pile of chips and shavingsto which he could easily set fire, and beside it was a wood pile thatalmost reached the coal shed. The coal shed extended over to theworkshops, and if that once caught fire, the flames would soon fly overto the roof of the iron foundry. Everything combustible would burn, thewalls would fall from the heat, and the machinery would be destroyed. "Will you or won't you?" demanded Father Bear. The boy knew that heought to answer promptly that he would not, but he also knew that thenthe bear's paws would squeeze him to death; therefore he replied:

"I shall have to think it over. "

"Very well, do so, " assented Father Bear. "Let me say to you that ironis the thing that has given men the advantage over us bears, which isanother reason for my wishing to put an end to the work here. "

The boy thought he would use the delay to figure out some plan ofescape, but he was so worried he could not direct his thoughts where hewould; instead he began to think of the great help that iron had been tomankind. They needed iron for everything. There was iron in the ploughthat broke up the field, in the axe that felled the tree for buildinghouses, in the scythe that mowed the grain, and in the knife, whichcould be turned to all sorts of uses. There was iron in the horse's bit, in the lock on the door, in the nails that held furniture together, inthe sheathing that covered the roof. The rifle which drove away wildbeasts was made of iron, also the pick that had broken up the mine. Ironcovered the men-of-war he had seen at Karlskrona; the locomotivessteamed through the country on iron rails; the needle that had stitchedhis coat was of iron; the shears that clipped the sheep and the kettlethat cooked the food. Big and little alike--much that was indispensablewas made from iron. Father Bear was perfectly right in saying that itwas the iron that had given men their mastery over the bears. 

"Now will you or won't you?" Father Bear repeated. 

The boy was startled from his musing. Here he stood thinking of mattersthat were entirely unnecessary, and had not yet found a way to savehimself!

"You mustn't be so impatient, " he said. "This is a serious matter forme, and I've got to have time to consider. "

"Well, then, consider another moment, " said Father Bear. "But let metell you that it's because of the iron that men have become so muchwiser than we bears. For this alone, if for nothing else, I should liketo put a stop to the work here. "

Again the boy endeavoured to think out a plan of escape, but histhoughts wandered, willy nilly. They were taken up with the iron. Andgradually he began to comprehend how much thinking and calculating menmust have done before they discovered how to produce iron from ore, andhe seemed to see sooty blacksmiths of old bending over the forge, pondering how they should properly handle it. Perhaps it was becausethey had thought so much about the iron that intelligence had beendeveloped in mankind, until finally they became so advanced that theywere able to build great works like these. The fact was that men owedmore to the iron than they themselves knew. 

"Well, what say you? Will you or won't you?" insisted Father Bear. 

The boy shrank back. Here he stood thinking needless thoughts, and hadno idea as to what he should do to save himself. 

"It's not such an easy matter to decide as you think, " he answered. "Youmust give me time for reflection. "

"I can wait for you a little longer, " said Father Bear. "But after thatyou'll get no more grace. You must know that it's the fault of the ironthat the human kind can live here on the property of the bears. And nowyou understand why I would be rid of the work. "

The boy meant to use the last moment to think out some way to savehimself, but, anxious and distraught as he was, his thoughts wanderedagain. Now he began thinking of all that he had seen when he flew overthe mining districts. It was strange that there should be so much lifeand activity and so much work back there in the wilderness. 

"Just think how poor and desolate this place would be had there been noiron here!

"This very foundry gave employment to many, and had gathered around itmany homes filled with people, who, in turn, had attracted hitherrailways and telegraph wires and--"

"Come, come!" growled the bear. "Will you or won't you?"

The boy swept his hand across his forehead. No plan of escape had as yetcome to his mind, but this much he knew--he did not wish to do any harmto the iron, which was so useful to rich and poor alike, and which gavebread to so many people in this land. 

"I won't!" he said. 

Father Bear squeezed him a little harder, but said nothing. 

"You'll not get me to destroy the ironworks!" defied the boy. "The ironis so great a blessing that it will never do to harm it. "

"Then of course you don't expect to be allowed to live very long?" saidthe bear. 

"No, I don't expect it, " returned the boy, looking the bear straight inthe eye. 

Father Bear gripped him still harder. It hurt so that the boy could notkeep the tears back, but he did not cry out or say a word. 

"Very well, then, " said Father Bear, raising his paw very slowly, hopingthat the boy would give in at the last moment. 

But just then the boy heard something click very close to them, and sawthe muzzle of a rifle two paces away. Both he and Father Bear had beenso engrossed in their own affairs they had not observed that a man hadstolen right upon them. 

"Father Bear! Don't you hear the clicking of a trigger?" cried the boy. "Run, or you'll be shot!"

Father Bear grew terribly hurried. However, he allowed himself timeenough to pick up the boy and carry him along. As he ran, a couple ofshots sounded, and the bullets grazed his ears, but, luckily, heescaped. 

The boy thought, as he was dangling from the bear's mouth, that neverhad he been so stupid as he was to-night. If he had only kept still, thebear would have been shot, and he himself would have been freed. But hehad become so accustomed to helping the animals that he did itnaturally, and as a matter of course. 

When Father Bear had run some distance into the woods, he paused and setthe boy down on the ground. 

"Thank you, little one!" he said. "I dare say those bullets would havecaught me if you hadn't been there. And now I want to do you a servicein return. If you should ever meet with another bear, just say to himthis--which I shall whisper to you--and he won't touch you. "

Father Bear whispered a word or two into the boy's ear and hurried away, for he thought he heard hounds and hunters pursuing him. 

The boy stood in the forest, free and unharmed, and could hardlyunderstand how it was possible. 

The wild geese had been flying back and forth the whole evening, peeringand calling, but they had been unable to find Thumbietot. They searchedlong after the sun had set, and, finally, when it had grown so dark thatthey were forced to alight somewhere for the night, they were verydownhearted. There was not one among them but thought the boy had beenkilled by the fall and was lying dead in the forest, where they couldnot see him. 

But the next morning, when the sun peeped over the hills and awakenedthe wild geese, the boy lay sleeping, as usual, in their midst. When hewoke and heard them shrieking and cackling their astonishment, he couldnot help laughing. 

They were so eager to know what had happened to him that they did notcare to go to breakfast until he had told them the whole story. The boysoon narrated his entire adventure with the bears, but after that heseemed reluctant to continue. 

"How I got back to you perhaps you already know?" he said. 

"No, we know nothing. We thought you were killed. "

"That's curious!" remarked the boy. "Oh, yes!--when Father Bear left meI climbed up into a pine and fell asleep. At daybreak I was awakened byan eagle hovering over me. He picked me up with his talons and carriedme away. He didn't hurt me, but flew straight here to you and dropped medown among you. "

"Didn't he tell you who he was?" asked the big white gander. 

"He was gone before I had time even to thank him. I thought that MotherAkka had sent him after me. "

"How extraordinary!" exclaimed the white goosey-gander. "But are youcertain that it was an eagle?"

"I had never before seen an eagle, " said the boy, "but he was so bigand splendid that I can't give him a lowlier name!"

Morten Goosey-Gander turned to the wild geese to hear what they thoughtof this; but they stood gazing into the air, as though they werethinking of something else. 

"We must not forget entirely to eat breakfast today, " said Akka, quicklyspreading her wings. 

THE FLOOD

THE SWANS

_May first to fourth_. 

There was a terrible storm raging in the district north of Lake Mälar, which lasted several days. The sky was a dull gray, the wind whistled, and the rain beat. Both people and animals knew the spring could not beushered in with anything short of this; nevertheless they thought itunbearable. 

After it had been raining for a whole day, the snowdrifts in the pineforests began to melt in earnest, and the spring brooks grew lively. Allthe pools on the farms, the standing water in the ditches, the waterthat oozed between the tufts in marshes and swamps--all were in motionand tried to find their way to creeks, that they might be borne along tothe sea. 

The creeks rushed as fast as possible down to the rivers, and the riversdid their utmost to carry the water to Lake Mälar. 

All the lakes and rivers in Uppland and the mining district quicklythrew off their ice covers on one and the same day, so that the creeksfilled with ice-floes which rose clear up to their banks. 

Swollen as they were, they emptied into Lake Mälar, and it was not longbefore the lake had taken in as much water as it could well hold. Downby the outlet was a raging torrent. Norrström is a narrow channel, andit could not let out the water quickly enough. Besides, there was astrong easterly wind that lashed against the land, obstructing thestream when it tried to carry the fresh water into the East Sea. Sincethe rivers kept running to Mälaren with more water than it could disposeof, there was nothing for the big lake to do but overflow its banks. 

It rose very slowly, as if reluctant to injure its beautiful shores; butas they were mostly low and gradually sloping, it was not long beforethe water had flooded several acres of land, and that was enough tocreate the greatest alarm. 

Lake Mälar is unique in its way, being made up of a succession of narrowfiords, bays, and inlets. In no place does it spread into a stormcentre, but seems to have been created only for pleasure trips, yachtingtours, and fishing. Nowhere does it present barren, desolate, wind-sweptshores. It looks as if it never thought that its shores could holdanything but country seats, summer villas, manors, and amusementresorts. But, because it usually presents a very agreeable and friendlyappearance, there is all the more havoc whenever it happens to drop itssmiling expression in the spring, and show that it can be serious. 

At that critical time Smirre Fox happened to come sneaking through abirch grove just north of Lake Mälar. As usual, he was thinking ofThumbietot and the wild geese, and wondering how he should ever findthem again. He had lost all track of them. 

As he stole cautiously along, more discouraged than usual, he caughtsight of Agar, the carrier-pigeon, who had perched herself on a birchbranch. 

"My, but I'm in luck to run across you, Agar!" exclaimed Smirre. "Maybeyou can tell me where Akka from Kebnekaise and her flock hold forthnowadays?"

"It's quite possible that I know where they are, " Agar hinted, "but I'mnot likely to tell you!"

"Please yourself!" retorted Smirre. "Nevertheless, you can take amessage that I have for them. You probably know the present condition ofLake Mälar? There's a great overflow down there and all the swans wholive in Hjälsta Bay are about to see their nests, with all their eggs, destroyed. Daylight, the swan-king, has heard of the midget who travelswith the wild geese and knows a remedy for every ill. He has sent me toask Akka if she will bring Thumbietot down to Hjälsta Bay. "

"I dare say I can convey your message, " Agar replied, "but I can'tunderstand how the little boy will be able to help the swans. "

"Nor do I, " said Smirre, "but he can do almost everything, it seems. "

"It's surprising to me that Daylight should send his messages by a fox, "Agar remarked. 

"Well, we're not exactly what you'd call good friends, " said Smirresmoothly, "but in an emergency like this we must help each other. Perhaps it would be just as well not to tell Akka that you got themessage from a fox. Between you and me, she's inclined to be a littlesuspicious. "

The safest refuge for water-fowl in the whole Mälar district is HjälstaBay. It has low shores, shallow water and is also covered with reeds. 

It is by no means as large as Lake Tåkern, but nevertheless Hjälsta is agood retreat for birds, since it has long been forbidden territory tohunters. 

It is the home of a great many swans, and the owner of the old castlenearby has prohibited all shooting on the bay, so that they might beunmolested. 

As soon as Akka received word that the swans needed her help, shehastened down to Hjälsta Bay. She arrived with her flock one evening andsaw at a glance that there had been a great disaster. The big swans'nests had been torn away, and the strong wind was driving them down thebay. Some had already fallen apart, two or three had capsized, and theeggs lay at the bottom of the lake. 

When Akka alighted on the bay, all the swans living there were gatherednear the eastern shore, where they were protected from the wind. 

Although they had suffered much by the flood, they were too proud to letany one see it. 

"It is useless to cry, " they said. "There are plenty of root-fibres andstems here; we can soon build new nests. "

None had thought of asking a stranger to help them, and the swans had noidea that Smirre Fox had sent for the wild geese!

There were several hundred swans resting on the water. They had placedthemselves according to rank and station. The young and inexperiencedwere farthest out, the old and wise nearer the middle of the group, andright in the centre sat Daylight, the swan-king, and Snow-White, theswan-queen, who were older than any of the others and regarded the restof the swans as their children. 

The geese alighted on the west shore of the bay; but when Akka saw wherethe swans were, she swam toward them at once. She was very muchsurprised at their having sent for her, but she regarded it as an honourand did not wish to lose a moment in coming to their aid. 

As Akka approached the swans she paused to see if the geese who followedher swam in a straight line, and at even distances apart. 

"Now, swim along quickly!" she ordered. "Don't stare at the swans as ifyou had never before seen anything beautiful, and don't mind what theymay say to you!"

This was not the first time that Akka had called on the aristocraticswans. They had always received her in a manner befitting a greattraveller like herself. 

But still she did not like the idea of swimming in among them. She neverfelt so gray and insignificant as when she happened upon swans. One oranother of them was sure to drop a remark about "common gray-feathers"and "poor folk. " But it is always best to take no notice of such things. 

This time everything passed off uncommonly well. The swans politely madeway for the wild geese, who swam forward through a kind of passageway, which formed an avenue bordered by shimmering, white birds. 

It was a beautiful sight to watch them as they spread their wings, likesails, to appear well before the strangers. They refrained from makingcomments, which rather surprised Akka. 

Evidently Daylight had noted their misbehaviour in the past and had toldthe swans that they must conduct themselves in a proper manner--sothought the leader-goose. 

But just as the swans were making an effort to observe the rules ofetiquette, they caught sight of the goosey-gander, who swam last in thelong goose-line. Then there was a murmur of disapproval, even ofthreats, among the swans, and at once there was an end to their gooddeportment!

"What's this?" shrieked one. "Do the wild geese intend to dress up inwhite feathers?"

"They needn't think that will make swans of them, " cried another. 

They began shrieking--one louder than another--in their strong, resonantvoices. It was impossible to explain that a tame goosey-gander had comewith the wild geese. 

"That must be the goose-king himself coming along, " they saidtauntingly. "There's no limit to their audacity!"

"That's no goose, it's only a tame duck. "

The big white gander remembered Akka's admonition to pay no attention, no matter what he might hear. He kept quiet and swam ahead as fast hecould, but it did no good. The swans became more and more impertinent. 

"What kind of a frog does he carry on his back?" asked one. "They mustthink we don't see it's a frog because it is dressed like a humanbeing. "

The swans, who but a moment before had been resting in such perfectorder, now swam up and down excitedly. All tried to crowd forward to geta glimpse of the white wild goose. 

"That white goosey-gander ought to be ashamed to come here and paradebefore swans!"

"He's probably as gray as the rest of them. He has only been in a flourbarrel at some farm house!"

Akka had just come up to Daylight and was about to ask him what kind ofhelp he wanted of her, when the swan-king noticed the uproar among theswans. 

"What do I see? Haven't I taught you to be polite to strangers?" he saidwith a frown. 

Snow-White, the swan-queen, swam out to restore order among hersubjects, and again Daylight turned to Akka. 

Presently Snow-White came back, appearing greatly agitated. 

"Can't you keep them quiet?" shouted Daylight. 

"There's a white wild goose over there, " answered Snow-White. "Is it notshameful? I don't wonder they are furious!"

"A white wild goose?" scoffed Daylight. "That's too ridiculous! Therecan't be such a thing. You must be mistaken. "

The crowds around Morten Goosey-Gander grew larger and larger. Akka andthe other wild geese tried to swim over to him, but were jostled hitherand thither and could not get to him. 

The old swan-king, who was the strongest among them, swam off quickly, pushed all the others aside, and made his way over to the big whitegander. But when he saw that there really was a white goose on thewater, he was just as indignant as the rest. 

He hissed with rage, flew straight at Morten Goosey-Gander and tore outa few feathers. 

"I'll teach you a lesson, wild goose, " he shrieked, "so that you'll notcome again to the swans, togged out in this way!"

"Fly, Morten Goosey-Gander! Fly, fly!" cried Akka, for she knew thatotherwise the swans would pull out every feather the goosey-gander had. 

"Fly, fly!" screamed Thumbietot, too. 

But the goosey-gander was so hedged in by the swans that he had notroom enough to spread his wings. All around him the swans stretchedtheir long necks, opened their strong bills, and plucked his feathers. 

Morten Goosey-Gander defended himself as best he could, by striking andbiting. The wild geese also began to fight the swans. 

It was obvious how this would have ended had the geese not received helpquite unexpectedly. 

A red-tail noticed that they were being roughly treated by the swans. Instantly he cried out the shrill call that little birds use when theyneed help to drive off a hawk or a falcon. 

Three calls had barely sounded when all the little birds in the vicinitycame shooting down to Hjälsta Bay, as if on wings of lightning. 

These delicate little creatures swooped down upon the swans, screechedin their ears, and obstructed their view with the flutter of their tinywings. They made them dizzy with their fluttering and drove them todistraction with their cries of "Shame, shame, swans!"

The attack of the small birds lasted but a moment. When they were goneand the swans came to their senses, they saw that the geese had risenand flown over to the other end of the bay. 

THE NEW WATCH-DOG

There was this at least to be said in the swans' favour--when they sawthat the wild geese had escaped, they were too proud to chase them. Moreover, the geese could stand on a clump of reeds with perfectcomposure, and sleep. 

Nils Holgersson was too hungry to sleep. 

"It is necessary for me to get something to eat, " he said. 

At that time, when all kinds of things were floating on the water, itwas not difficult for a little boy like Nils Holgersson to find a craft. He did not stop to deliberate, but hopped down on a stump that haddrifted in amongst the reeds. Then he picked up a little stick and beganto pole toward shore. 

Just as he was landing, he heard a splash in the water. He stoppedshort. First he saw a lady swan asleep in her big nest quite close tohim, then he noticed that a fox had taken a few steps into the water andwas sneaking up to the swan's nest. 

"Hi, hi, hi! Get up, get up!" cried the boy, beating the water with hisstick. 

The lady swan rose, but not so quickly but that the fox could havepounced upon her had he cared to. However, he refrained and insteadhurried straight toward the boy. 

Thumbietot saw the fox coming and ran for his life. 

Wide stretches of meadow land spread before him. He saw no tree that hecould climb, no hole where he might hide; he just had to keep running. 

The boy was a good runner, but it stands to reason that he could notrace with a fox!

Not far from the bay there were a number of little cabins, with candlelights shining through the windows. Naturally the boy ran in thatdirection, but he realized that long before he could reach the nearestcabin the fox would catch up to him. 

Once the fox was so close that it looked as if the boy would surely behis prey, but Nils quickly sprang aside and turned back toward the bay. By that move the fox lost time, and before he could reach the boy thelatter had run up to two men who were on their way home from work. 

The men were tired and sleepy; they had noticed neither boy nor fox, although both had been running right in front of them. Nor did the boyask help of the men; he was content to walk close beside them. 

"Surely the fox won't venture to come up to the men, " he thought. 

But presently the fox came pattering along. He probably counted on themen taking him for a dog, for he went straight up to them. 

"Whose dog can that be sneaking around here?" queried one. "He looks asthough he were ready to bite. "

The other paused and glanced back. 

"Go along with you!" he said, and gave the fox a kick that sent it tothe opposite side of the road. "What are you doing here?"

After that the fox kept at a safe distance, but followed all the while. 

Presently the men reached a cabin and entered it. The boy intended to goin with them; but when he got to the stoop he saw a big, shaggywatch-dog rush out from his kennel to greet his master. Suddenly the boychanged his mind and remained out in the open. 

"Listen, watch-dog!" whispered the boy as soon as the men had shut thedoor. "I wonder if you would like to help me catch a fox to-night?"

The dog had poor eyesight and had become irritable and cranky from beingchained. 

"What, I catch a fox?" he barked angrily. "Who are you that makes fun ofme? You just come within my reach and I'll teach you not to fool withme!"

"You needn't think that I'm afraid to come near you!" said the boy, running up to the dog. 

When the dog saw him he was so astonished that he could not speak. 

"I'm the one they call Thumbietot, who travels with the wild geese, "said the boy, introducing himself. "Haven't you heard of me?"

"I believe the sparrows have twittered a little about you, " the dogreturned. "They say that you have done wonderful things for one of yoursize. "

"I've been rather lucky up to the present, " admitted the boy. "But nowit's all up with me unless you help me! There's a fox at my heels. He'slying in wait for me around the corner. "

"Don't you suppose I can smell him?" retorted the dog. "But we'll soonbe rid of him!" With that the dog sprang as far as the chain wouldallow, barking and growling for ever so long. "Now I don't think he willshow his face again to-night!" said the dog. 

"It will take something besides a fine bark to scare that fox!" the boyremarked. "He'll soon be here again, and that is precisely what I wish, for I have set my heart on your catching him. "

"Are you poking fun at me now?" asked the dog. 

"Only come with me into your kennel, and I'll tell you what to do. "

The boy and the watch-dog crept into the kennel and crouched there, whispering. 

By and by the fox stuck his nose out from his hiding place. When all wasquiet he crept along cautiously. He scented the boy all the way to thekennel, but halted at a safe distance and sat down to think of some wayto coax him out. 

Suddenly the watch-dog poked his head out and growled at him:

"Go away, or I'll catch you!"

"I'll sit here as long as I please for all of you!" defied the fox. 

"Go away!" repeated the dog threateningly, "or there will be no morehunting for you after to-night. "

But the fox only grinned and did not move an inch. 

"I know how far your chain can reach, " he said. 

"I have warned you twice, " said the dog, coming out from his kennel. "Now blame yourself!"

With that the dog sprang at the fox and caught him without the leasteffort, for he was loose. The boy had unbuckled his collar. 

There was a hot struggle, but it was soon over. The dog was the victor. The fox lay on the ground and dared not move. 

"Don't stir or I'll kill you!" snarled the dog. Then he took the fox bythe scruff of the neck and dragged him to the kennel. There the boy wasready with the chain. He placed the dog collar around the neck of thefox, tightening it so that he was securely chained. During all this thefox had to lie still, for he was afraid to move. 

"Now, Smirre Fox, I hope you'll make a good watch-dog, " laughed the boywhen he had finished. 

DUNFIN

THE CITY THAT FLOATS ON THE WATER

_Friday, May sixth_. 

No one could be more gentle and kind than the little gray goose Dunfin. All the wild geese loved her, and the tame white goosey-gander wouldhave died for her. When Dunfin asked for anything not even Akka couldsay no. 

As soon as Dunfin came to Lake Mälar the landscape looked familiar toher. Just beyond the lake lay the sea, with many wooded islands, andthere, on a little islet, lived her parents and her brothers andsisters. She begged the wild geese to fly to her home before travellingfarther north, that she might let her family see that she was stillalive. It would be such a joy to them. 

Akka frankly declared that she thought Dunfin's parents and brothers andsisters had shown no great love for her when they abandoned her atÖland, but Dunfin would not admit that Akka was in the right. "What elsewas there to do, when they saw that I could not fly?" she protested. "Surely they couldn't remain at Öland on my account!"

Dunfin began telling the wild geese all about her home in thearchipelago, to try to induce them to make the trip. Her family lived ona rock island. Seen from a distance, there appeared to be nothing butstone there; but when one came closer, there were to be found thechoicest goose tidbits in clefts and hollows, and one might search longfor better nesting places than those that were hidden in the mountaincrevices or among the osier bushes. But the best of all was the oldfisherman who lived there. Dunfin had heard that in his youth he hadbeen a great shot and had always lain in the offing and hunted birds. But now, in his old age--since his wife had died and the children hadgone from home, so that he was alone in the hut--he had begun to carefor the birds on his island. He never fired a shot at them, nor would hepermit others to do so. He walked around amongst the birds' nests, andwhen the mother birds were sitting he brought them food. Not one wasafraid of him. They all loved him. 

Dunfin had been in his hut many times, and he had fed her with breadcrumbs. Because he was kind to the birds, they flocked to his island insuch great numbers that it was becoming overcrowded. If one happened toarrive a little late in the spring, all the nesting places wereoccupied. That was why Dunfin's family had been obliged to leave her. 

Dunfin begged so hard that she finally had her way, although the wildgeese felt that they were losing time and really should be goingstraight north. But a little trip like this to the cliff island wouldnot delay them more than a day. 

So they started off one morning, after fortifying themselves with a goodbreakfast, and flew eastward over Lake Mälar. The boy did not know forcertain where they were going; but he noticed that the farther east theyflew, the livelier it was on the lake and the more built up were theshores. 

Heavily freighted barges and sloops, boats and fishing smacks were ontheir way east, and these were met and passed by many pretty whitesteamers. Along the shores ran country roads and railway tracks--all inthe same direction. There was some place beyond in the east where allwished to go to in the morning. 

On one of the islands the boy saw a big, white castle, and to the eastof it the shores were dotted with villas. At the start these lay farapart, then they became closer and closer, and, presently, the wholeshore was lined with them. They were of every variety--here a castle, there a cottage; then a low manor house appeared, or a mansion, withmany small towers. Some stood in gardens, but most of them were in thewild woods which bordered the shores. Despite their dissimilarity, theyhad one point of resemblance--they were not plain and sombre-looking, like other buildings, but were gaudily painted in striking greens andblues, reds and white, like children's playhouses. 

As the boy sat on the goose's back and glanced down at the curious shoremansions, Dunfin cried out with delight: "Now I know where I am! Overthere lies the City that Floats on the Water. "

The boy looked ahead. At first he saw nothing but some light clouds andmists rolling forward over the water, but soon he caught sight of sometall spires, and then one and another house with many rows of windows. They appeared and disappeared--rolling hither and thither--but not astrip of shore did he see! Everything over there appeared to be restingon the water. 

Nearer to the city he saw no more pretty playhouses along theshores--only dingy factories. Great heaps of coal and wood were stackedbehind tall planks, and alongside black, sooty docks lay bulky freightsteamers; but over all was spread a shimmering, transparent mist, whichmade everything appear so big and strong and wonderful that it wasalmost beautiful. 

The wild geese flew past factories and freight steamers and werenearing the cloud-enveloped spires. Suddenly all the mists sank to thewater, save the thin, fleecy ones that circled above their heads, beautifully tinted in blues and pinks. The other clouds rolled overwater and land. They entirely obscured the lower portions of the houses:only the upper stories and the roofs and gables were visible. Some ofthe buildings appeared to be as high as the Tower of Babel. The boy nodoubt knew that they were built upon hills and mountains, but these hedid not see--only the houses that seemed to float among the white, drifting clouds. In reality the buildings were dark and dingy, for thesun in the east was not shining on them. 

The boy knew that he was riding above a large city, for he saw spiresand house roofs rising from the clouds in every direction. Sometimes anopening was made in the circling mists, and he looked down into arunning, tortuous stream; but no land could he see. All this wasbeautiful to look upon, but he felt quite distraught--as one does whenhappening upon something one cannot understand. 

When he had gone beyond the city, he found that the ground was no longerhidden by clouds, but that shores, streams, and islands were againplainly visible. He turned to see the city better, but could not, fornow it looked quite enchanted. The mists had taken on colour from thesunshine and were rolling forward in the most brilliant reds, blues, andyellows. The houses were white, as if built of light, and the windowsand spires sparkled like fire. All things floated on the water asbefore. 

The geese were travelling straight east. They flew over factories andworkshops; then over mansions edging the shores. Steamboats and tugsswarmed on the water; but now they came from the east and were steamingwestward toward the city. 

The wild geese flew on, but instead of the narrow Mälar fiords and thelittle islands, broader waters and larger islands spread under them. Atlast the land was left behind and seen no more. 

They flew still farther out, where they found no more large inhabitedislands--only numberless little rock islands were scattered on thewater. Now the fiords were not crowded by the land. The sea lay beforethem, vast and limitless. 

Here the wild geese alighted on a cliff island, and as soon as theirfeet touched the ground the boy turned to Dunfin. 

"What city did we fly over just now?" he asked. 

"I don't know what human beings have named it, " said Dunfin. "We graygeese call it the 'City that Floats on the Water'. "

THE SISTERS

Dunfin had two sisters, Prettywing and Goldeye. They were strong andintelligent birds, but they did not have such a soft and shiny featherdress as Dunfin, nor did they have her sweet and gentle disposition. From the time they had been little, yellow goslings, their parents andrelatives and even the old fisherman had plainly shown them that theythought more of Dunfin than of them. Therefore the sisters had alwayshated her. 

When the wild geese landed on the cliff island, Prettywing and Goldeyewere feeding on a bit of grass close to the strand, and immediatelycaught sight of the strangers. 

"See, Sister Goldeye, what fine-looking geese have come to our island!"exclaimed Prettywing, "I have rarely seen such graceful birds. Do younotice that they have a white goosey-gander among them? Did you ever seteyes on a handsomer bird? One could almost take him for a swan!"

Goldeye agreed with her sister that these were certainly verydistinguished strangers that had come to the island, but suddenly shebroke off and called: "Sister Prettywing! Oh, Sister Prettywing! Don'tyou see whom they bring with them?"

Prettywing also caught sight of Dunfin and was so astounded that shestood for a long time with her bill wide open, and only hissed. 

"It can't be possible that it is she! How did she manage to get in withpeople of that class? Why, we left her at Öland to freeze and starve. "

"The worse of it is she will tattle to father and mother that we flewso close to her that we knocked her wing out of joint, " said Goldeye. "You'll see that it will end in our being driven from the island!"

"We have nothing but trouble in store for us, now that that young onehas come back!" snapped Prettywing. "Still I think it would be best forus to appear as pleased as possible over her return. She is so stupidthat perhaps she didn't even notice that we gave her a push on purpose. "

While Prettywing and Goldeye were talking in this strain, the wild geesehad been standing on the strand, pluming their feathers after theflight. Now they marched in a long line up the rocky shore to the cleftwhere Dunfin's parents usually stopped. 

Dunfin's parents were good folk. They had lived on the island longerthan any one else, and it was their habit to counsel and aid allnewcomers. They too had seen the geese approach, but they had notrecognized Dunfin in the flock. 

"It is strange to see wild geese land on this island, " remarked thegoose-master. "It is a fine flock--that one can see by their flight. "

"But it won't be easy to find pasturage for so many, " said thegoose-wife, who was gentle and sweet-tempered, like Dunfin. 

When Akka came marching with her company, Dunfin's parents went out tomeet her and welcome her to the island. Dunfin flew from her place atthe end of the line and lit between her parents. 

"Mother and father, I'm here at last!" she cried joyously. "Don't youknow Dunfin?"

At first the old goose-parents could not quite make out what they saw, but when they recognized Dunfin they were absurdly happy, of course. 

While the wild geese and Morten Goosey-Gander and Dunfin were chatteringexcitedly, trying to tell how she had been rescued, Prettywing andGoldeye came running. They cried "_welcome"_ and pretended to be sohappy because Dunfin was at home that she was deeply moved. 

The wild geese fared well on the island and decided not to travelfarther until the following morning. After a while the sisters askedDunfin if she would come with them and see the places where theyintended to build their nests. She promptly accompanied them, and sawthat they had picked out secluded and well protected nesting places. 

"Now where will you settle down, Dunfin?" they asked. 

"I? Why I don't intend to remain on the island, " she said. "I'm goingwith the wild geese up to Lapland. "

"What a pity that you must leave us!" said the sisters. 

"I should have been very glad to remain here with father and mother andyou, " said Dunfin, "had I not promised the big, white--"

"What!" shrieked Prettywing. "Are you to have the handsomegoosey-gander? Then it is--" But here Goldeye gave her a sharp nudge, and she stopped short. 

The two cruel sisters had much to talk about all the afternoon. Theywere furious because Dunfin had a suitor like the white goosey-gander. They themselves had suitors, but theirs were only common gray geese, and, since they had seen Morten Goosey-Gander, they thought them sohomely and low-bred that they did not wish even to look at them. 

"This will grieve me to death!" whimpered Goldeye. "If at least it hadbeen you, Sister Prettywing, who had captured him!"

"I would rather see him dead than to go about here the entire summerthinking of Dunfin's capturing a white goosey-gander!" poutedPrettywing. 

However, the sisters continued to appear very friendly toward Dunfin, and in the afternoon Goldeye took Dunfin with her, that she might seethe one she thought of marrying. 

"He's not as attractive as the one you will have, " said Goldeye. "But tomake up for it, one can be certain that he is what he is. "

"What do you mean, Goldeye?" questioned Dunfin. At first Goldeye wouldnot explain what she had meant, but at last she came out with it. 

"We have never seen a white goose travel with wild geese, " said thesister, "and we wonder if he can be bewitched. "

"You are very stupid, " retorted Dunfin indignantly. "He is a tame goose, of course. "

"He brings with him one who is bewitched, " said Goldeye, "and, under thecircumstances, he too must be bewitched. Are you not afraid that he maybe a black cormorant?" She was a good talker and succeeded infrightening Dunfin thoroughly. 

"You don't mean what you are saying, " pleaded the little gray goose. "You only wish to frighten me!"

"I wish what is for your good, Dunfin, " said Goldeye. "I can't imagineanything worse than for you to fly away with a black cormorant! But nowI shall tell you something--try to persuade him to eat some of the rootsI have gathered here. If he is bewitched, it will be apparent at once. If he is not, he will remain as he is. "

The boy was sitting amongst the wild geese, listening to Akka and theold goose-master, when Dunfin came flying up to him. "Thumbietot, Thumbietot!" she cried. "Morten Goosey-Gander is dying! I have killedhim!"

"Let me get up on your back, Dunfin, and take me to him!" Away theyflew, and Akka and the other wild geese followed them. When they got tothe goosey-gander, he was lying prostrate on the ground. He could notutter a word--only gasped for breath. 

"Tickle him under the gorge and slap him on the back!" commanded Akka. The boy did so and presently the big, white gander coughed up a large, white root, which had stuck in his gorge. "Have you been eating ofthese?" asked Akka, pointing to some roots that lay on the ground. 

"Yes, " groaned the goosey-gander. 

"Then it was well they stuck in your throat, " said Akka, "for they arepoisonous. Had you swallowed them, you certainly should have died. "

"Dunfin bade me eat them, " said the goosey-gander. 

"My sister gave them to me, " protested Dunfin, and she told everything. 

"You must beware of those sisters of yours, Dunfin!" warned Akka, "forthey wish you no good, depend upon it!"

But Dunfin was so constituted that she could not think evil of any oneand, a moment later, when Prettywing asked her to come and meet herintended, she went with her immediately. 

"Oh, he isn't as handsome as yours, " said the sister, "but he's muchmore courageous and daring!"

"How do you know he is?" challenged Dunfin. 

"For some time past there has been weeping and wailing amongst the seagulls and wild ducks on the island. Every morning at daybreak a strangebird of prey comes and carries off one of them. "

"What kind of a bird is it?" asked Dunfin. 

"We don't know, " replied the sister. "One of his kind has never beforebeen seen on the island, and, strange to say, he has never attacked oneof us geese. But now my intended has made up his mind to challenge himto-morrow morning, and drive him away. "

"Oh, I hope he'll succeed!" said Dunfin. 

"I hardly think he will, " returned the sister. "If my goosey-gander wereas big and strong as yours, I should have hope. "

"Do you wish me to ask Morten Goosey-Gander to meet the strange bird?"asked Dunfin. 

"Indeed, I do!" exclaimed Prettywing excitedly. "You couldn't render mea greater service. "

The next morning the goosey-gander was up before the sun. He stationedhimself on the highest point of the island and peered in all directions. Presently he saw a big, dark bird coming from the west. His wings wereexceedingly large, and it was easy to tell that he was an eagle. Thegoosey-gander had not expected a more dangerous adversary than an owl, and how he understood that he could not escape this encounter with hislife. But it did not occur to him to avoid a struggle with a bird whowas many times stronger than himself. 

The great bird swooped down on a sea gull and dug his talons into it. Before the eagle could spread his wings, Morten Goosey-Gander rushed upto him. "Drop that!" he shouted, "and don't come here again or you'llhave me to deal with!" "What kind of a lunatic are you?" said the eagle. "It's lucky for you that I never fight with geese, or you would soon bedone for!"

Morten Goosey-Gander thought the eagle considered himself too good tofight with him and flew at him, incensed, biting him on the throat andbeating him with his wings. This, naturally, the eagle would nottolerate and he began to fight, but not with his full strength. 

The boy lay sleeping in the quarters where Akka and the other wild geeseslept, when Dunfin called: "Thumbietot, Thumbietot! Morten Goosey-Ganderis being torn to pieces by an eagle. "

"Let me get up on your back, Dunfin, and take me to him!" said the boy. 

When they arrived on the scene Morten Goosey-Gander was badly torn, andbleeding, but he was still fighting. The boy could not battle with theeagle; all that he could do was to seek more efficient help. 

"Hurry, Dunfin, and call Akka and the wild geese!" he cried. The instanthe said that, the eagle flew back and stopped fighting. 

"Who's speaking of Akka?" he asked. He saw Thumbietot and heard the wildgeese honking, so he spread his wings. 

"Tell Akka I never expected to run across her or any of her flock outhere in the sea!" he said, and soared away in a rapid and gracefulflight. 

"That is the self-same eagle who once brought me back to the wildgeese, " the boy remarked, gazing after the bird in astonishment. 

The geese had decided to leave the island at dawn, but first they wantedto feed awhile. As they walked about and nibbled, a mountain duck cameup to Dunfin. 

"I have a message for you from your sisters, " said the duck. "They darenot show themselves among the wild geese, but they asked me to remindyou not to leave the island without calling on the old fisherman. "

"That's so!" exclaimed Dunfin, but she was so frightened now that shewould not go alone, and asked the goosey-gander and Thumbietot toaccompany her to the hut. 

The door was open, so Dunfin entered, but the others remained outside. After a moment they heard Akka give the signal to start, and calledDunfin. A gray goose came out and flew with the wild geese away from theisland. 

They had travelled quite a distance along the archipelago when the boybegan to wonder at the goose who accompanied them. Dunfin always flewlightly and noiselessly, but this one laboured with heavy and noisywing-strokes. "We are in the wrong company. It is Prettywing thatfollows us!"

The boy had barely spoken when the goose uttered such an ugly and angryshriek that all knew who she was. Akka and the others turned to her, butthe gray goose did not fly away at once. Instead she bumped against thebig goosey-gander, snatched Thumbietot, and flew off with him in herbill. 

There was a wild chase over the archipelago. Prettywing flew fast, butthe wild geese were close behind her, and there was no chance for her toescape. 

Suddenly they saw a puff of smoke rise up from the sea, and heard anexplosion. In their excitement they had not noticed that they weredirectly above a boat in which a lone fisherman was seated. 

However, none of the geese was hurt; but just there, above the boat, Prettywing opened her bill and dropped Thumbietot into the sea. 

STOCKHOLM

SKANSEN

A few years ago, at Skansen--the great park just outside of Stockholmwhere they have collected so many wonderful things--there lived a littleold man, named Clement Larsson. He was from Hälsingland and had come toSkansen with his fiddle to play folk dances and other old melodies. As aperformer, he appeared mostly in the evening. During the day it was hisbusiness to sit on guard in one of the many pretty peasant cottageswhich have been moved to Skansen from all parts of the country. 

In the beginning Clement thought that he fared better in his old agethan he had ever dared dream; but after a time he began to dislike theplace terribly, especially while he was on watch duty. It was all verywell when visitors came into the cottage to look around, but some daysClement would sit for many hours all alone. Then he felt so homesickthat he feared he would have to give up his place. He was very poor andknew that at home he would become a charge on the parish. Therefore hetried to hold out as long as he could, although he felt more unhappyfrom day to day. 

One beautiful evening in the beginning of May Clement had been granted afew hours' leave of absence. He was on his way down the steep hillleading out of Skansen, when he met an island fisherman coming alongwith his game bag. The fisherman was an active young man who came toSkansen with seafowl that he had managed to capture alive. Clement hadmet him before, many times. 

The fisherman stopped Clement to ask if the superintendent at Skansenwas at home. When Clement had replied, he, in turn, asked what choicething the fisherman had in his bag. "You can see what I have, " thefisherman answered, "if in return you will give me an idea as to what Ishould ask for it. "

He held open the bag and Clement peeped into it once--and again--thenquickly drew back a step or two. "Good gracious, Ashbjörn!" heexclaimed. "How did you catch that one?"

He remembered that when he was a child his mother used to talk of thetiny folk who lived under the cabin floor. He was not permitted to cryor to be naughty, lest he provoke these small people. After he was grownhe believed his mother had made up these stories about the elves to makehim behave himself. But it had been no invention of his mother's, itseemed; for there, in Ashbjörn's bag, lay one of the tiny folk. 

There was a little of the terror natural to childhood left in Clement, and he felt a shudder run down his spinal column as he peeped into thebag. Ashbjörn saw that he was frightened and began to laugh; butClement took the matter seriously. "Tell me, Ashbjörn, where you cameacross him?" he asked. "You may be sure that I wasn't lying in wait forhim!" said Ashbjörn. "He came to me. I started out early this morningand took my rifle along into the boat. I had just poled away from theshore when I sighted some wild geese coming from the east, shriekinglike mad. I sent them a shot, but hit none of them. Instead thiscreature came tumbling down into the water--so close to the boat that Ionly had to put my hand out and pick him up. "

"I hope you didn't shoot him, Ashbjörn?"

"Oh, no! He is well and sound; but when he came down, he was a littledazed at first, so I took advantage of that fact to wind the ends of twosail threads around his ankles and wrists, so that he couldn't run away. 'Ha! Here's something for Skansen, ' I thought instantly. "

Clement grew strangely troubled as the fisherman talked. All that he hadheard about the tiny folk in his childhood--of their vindictivenesstoward enemies and their benevolence toward friends--came back to him. It had never gone well with those who had attempted to hold one of themcaptive. 

"You should have let him go at once, Ashbjörn, " said Clement. 

"I came precious near being forced to set him free, " returned thefisherman. "You may as well know, Clement, that the wild geese followedme all the way home, and they criss-crossed over the island the wholemorning, honk-honking as if they wanted him back. Not only they, but theentire population--sea gulls, sea swallows, and many others who are notworth a shot of powder, alighted on the island and made an awful racket. When I came out they fluttered about me until I had to turn back. Mywife begged me to let him go, but I had made up my mind that he shouldcome here to Skansen, so I placed one of the children's dolls in thewindow, hid the midget in the bottom of my bag, and started away. Thebirds must have fancied that it was he who stood in the window, for theypermitted me to leave without pursuing me. "

"Does it say anything?" asked Clement. 

"Yes. At first he tried to call to the birds, but I wouldn't have it andput a gag in his mouth. "

"Oh, Ashbjörn!" protested Clement. "How can you treat him so! Don't yousee that he is something supernatural!"

"I don't know what he is, " said Ashbjörn calmly. "Let others considerthat. I'm satisfied if only I can get a good sum for him. Now tell me, Clement, what you think the doctor at Skansen would give me. "

There was a long pause before Clement replied. He felt very sorry forthe poor little chap. He actually imagined that his mother was standingbeside him telling him that he must always be kind to the tiny folk. 

"I have no idea what the doctor up there would care to give you, Ashbjörn, " he said finally. "But if you will leave him with me, I'll payyou twenty kroner for him. "

Ashbjörn stared at the fiddler in amazement when he heard him name solarge a sum. He thought that Clement believed the midget had somemysterious power and might be of service for him. He was by no meanscertain that the doctor would think him such a great find or would offerto pay so high a sum for him; so he accepted Clement's proffer. 

The fiddler poked his purchase into one of his wide pockets, turned backto Skansen, and went into a moss-covered hut, where there were neithervisitors nor guards. He closed the door after him, took out the midget, who was still bound hand and foot and gagged, and laid him down gentlyon a bench. 

"Now listen to what I say!" said Clement. "I know of course that such asyou do not like to be seen of men, but prefer to go about and busyyourselves in your own way. Therefore I have decided to give you yourliberty--but only on condition that you will remain in this park until Ipermit you to leave. If you agree to this, nod your head three times. "

Clement gazed at the midget with confident expectation, but the latterdid not move a muscle. 

"You shall not fare badly, " continued Clement. "I'll see to it that youare fed every day, and you will have so much to do there that the timewill not seem long to you. But you mustn't go elsewhere till I give youleave. Now we'll agree as to a signal. So long as I set your food out ina white bowl you are to stay. When I set it out in a blue one you maygo. "

Clement paused again, expecting the midget to give the sign of approval, but he did not stir. 

"Very well, " said Clement, "then there's no choice but to show you tothe master of this place. Then you'll be put in a glass case, and allthe people in the big city of Stockholm will come and stare at you. "

This scared the midget, and he promptly gave the signal. 

"That was right, " said Clement as he cut the cord that bound themidget's hands. Then he hurried toward the door. 

The boy unloosed the bands around his ankles and tore away the gagbefore thinking of anything else. When he turned to Clement to thankhim, he had gone. 

Just outside the door Clement met a handsome, noble-looking gentleman, who was on his way to a place close by from which there was a beautifuloutlook. Clement could not recall having seen the stately old manbefore, but the latter must surely have noticed Clement sometime when hewas playing the fiddle, because he stopped and spoke to him. 

"Good day, Clement!" he said. "How do you do? You are not ill, are you?I think you have grown a bit thin of late. "

There was such an expression of kindliness about the old gentleman thatClement plucked up courage and told him of his homesickness. 

"What!" exclaimed the old gentleman. "Are you homesick when you are inStockholm? It can't be possible!" He looked almost offended. Then hereflected that it was only an ignorant old peasant from Hälsingland thathe talked with--and so resumed his friendly attitude. 

"Surely you have never heard how the city of Stockholm was founded? Ifyou had, you would comprehend that your anxiety to get away is only afoolish fancy. Come with me to the bench over yonder and I will tell yousomething about Stockholm. "

When the old gentleman was seated on the bench he glanced down at thecity, which spread in all its glory below him, and he drew a deepbreath, as if he wished to drink in all the beauty of the landscape. Thereupon he turned to the fiddler. 

"Look, Clement!" he said, and as he talked he traced with his cane alittle map in the sand in front of them. "Here lies Uppland, and here, to the south, a point juts out, which is split up by a number of bays. And here we have Sörmland with another point, which is just as cut upand points straight north. Here, from the west, comes a lake filled withislands: It is Lake Mälar. From the east comes another body of water, which can barely squeeze in between the islands and islets. It is theEast Sea. Here, Clement, where Uppland joins Sörmland and Mälaren joinsthe East Sea, comes a short river, in the centre of which lie fourlittle islets that divide the river into several tributaries--one ofwhich is called Norriström but was formerly Stocksund. 

"In the beginning these islets were common wooded islands, such as onefinds in plenty on Lake Mälar even to-day, and for ages they wereentirely uninhabited. They were well located between two bodies of waterand two bodies of land; but this no one remarked. Year after yearpassed; people settled along Lake Mälar and in the archipelago, butthese river islands attracted no settlers. Sometimes it happened that aseafarer put into port at one of them and pitched his tent for thenight; but no one remained there long. 

"One day a fisherman, who lived on Liding Island, out in Salt Fiord, steered his boat toward Lake Mälar, where he had such good luck with hisfishing that he forgot to start for home in time. He got no farther thanthe four islets, and the best he could do was to land on one and waituntil later in the night, when there would be bright moonlight. 

"It was late summer and warm. The fisherman hauled his boat on land, laydown beside it, his head resting upon a stone, and fell asleep. When heawoke the moon had been up a long while. It hung right above him andshone with such splendour that it was like broad daylight. 

"The man jumped to his feet and was about to push his boat into thewater, when he saw a lot of black specks moving out in the stream. Aschool of seals was heading full speed for the island. When thefisherman saw that they intended to crawl up on land, he bent down forhis spear, which he always took with him in the boat. But when hestraightened up, he saw no seals. Instead, there stood on the strand themost beautiful young maidens, dressed in green, trailing satin robes, with pearl crowns upon their heads. The fisherman understood that thesewere mermaids who lived on desolate rock islands far out at sea and hadassumed seal disguises in order to come up on land and enjoy themoonlight on the green islets. 

"He laid down the spear very cautiously, and when the young maidens cameup on the island to play, he stole behind and surveyed them. He hadheard that sea-nymphs were so beautiful and fascinating that no onecould see them and not be enchanted by their charms; and he had to admitthat this was not too much to say of them. 

"When he had stood for a while under the shadow of the trees and watchedthe dance, he went down to the strand, took one of the seal skins lyingthere, and hid it under a stone. Then he went back to his boat, lay downbeside it, and pretended to be asleep. 

"Presently he saw the young maidens trip down to the strand to don theirseal skins. At first all was play and laughter, which was changed toweeping and wailing when one of the mermaids could not find her sealrobe. Her companions ran up and down the strand and helped her searchfor it, but no trace could they find. While they were seeking theynoticed that the sky was growing pale and the day was breaking, so theycould tarry no longer, and they all swam away, leaving behind the onewhose seal skin was missing. She sat on the strand and wept. 

"The fisherman felt sorry for her, of course, but he forced himself tolie still till daybreak. Then he got up, pushed the boat into the water, and stepped into it to make it appear that he saw her by chance after hehad lifted the oars. 

"'Who are you?' he called out. 'Are you shipwrecked?'

"She ran toward him and asked if he had seen her seal skin. Thefisherman looked as if he did not know what she was talking about. Shesat down again and wept. Then he determined to take her with him in theboat. 'Come with me to my cottage, ' he commanded, 'and my mother willtake care of you. You can't stay here on the island, where you haveneither food nor shelter!' He talked so convincingly that she waspersuaded to step into his boat. 

"Both the fisherman and his mother were very kind to the poor mermaid, and she seemed to be happy with them. She grew more contented every dayand helped the older woman with her work, and was exactly like any otherisland lass--only she was much prettier. One day the fisherman asked herif she would be his wife, and she did not object, but at once said yes. 

"Preparations were made for the wedding. The mermaid dressed as a bridein her green, trailing robe with the shimmering pearl crown she had wornwhen the fisherman first saw her. There was neither church nor parson onthe island at that time, so the bridal party seated themselves in theboats to row up to the first church they should find. 

"The fisherman had the mermaid and his mother in his boat, and he rowedso well that he was far ahead of all the others. When he had come so farthat he could see the islet in the river, where he won his bride, hecould not help smiling. 

"'What are you smiling at?' she asked. 

"'Oh, I'm thinking of that night when I hid your seal skin, ' answeredthe fisherman; for he felt so sure of her that he thought there was nolonger any need for him to conceal anything. 

"'What are you saying?' asked the bride, astonished. 'Surely I havenever possessed a seal skin!' It appeared she had forgotten everything. 

"'Don't you recollect how you danced with the mermaids?' he asked. 

"'I don't know what you mean, ' said the bride. 'I think that you musthave dreamed a strange dream last night. '

"If I show you your seal skin, you'll probably believe me!' laughed thefisherman, promptly turning the boat toward the islet. They steppedashore and he brought the seal skin out from under the stone where hehad hidden it. 

"But the instant the bride set eyes on the seal skin she grasped it anddrew it over her head. It snuggled close to her--as if there was life init--and immediately she threw herself into the stream. 

"The bridegroom saw her swim away and plunged into the water after her;but he could not catch up to her. When he saw that he couldn't stop herin any other way, in his grief he seized his spear and hurled it. Heaimed better than he had intended, for the poor mermaid gave a piercingshriek and disappeared in the depths. 

"The fisherman stood on the strand waiting for her to appear again. Heobserved that the water around him began to take on a soft sheen, abeauty that he had never seen before. It shimmered in pink and white, like the colour-play on the inside of sea shells. 

"As the glittering water lapped the shores, the fisherman thought thatthey too were transformed. They began to blossom and waft theirperfumes. A soft sheen spread over them and they also took on a beautywhich they had never possessed before. 

"He understood how all this had come to pass. For it is thus withmermaids: one who beholds them must needs find them more beautiful thanany one else, and the mermaid's blood being mixed with the water thatbathed the shores, her beauty was transferred to both. All who saw themmust love them and yearn for them. This was their legacy from themermaid. "

When the stately old gentleman had got thus far in his narrative heturned to Clement and looked at him. Clement nodded reverently but madeno comment, as he did not wish to cause a break in the story. 

"Now you must bear this in mind, Clement, " the old gentleman continued, with a roguish glint in his eyes. "From that time on people emigrated tothe islands. At first only fishermen and peasants settled there, butothers, too, were attracted to them. One day the king and his earlsailed up the stream. They started at once to talk of these islands, having observed they were so situated that every vessel that sailedtoward Lake Mälar had to pass them. The earl suggested that there oughtto be a lock put on the channel which could be opened or closed at will, to let in merchant vessels and shut out pirates. 

"This idea was carried out, " said the old gentleman, as he rose andbegan to trace in the sand again with his cane. "On the largest of theseislands the earl erected a fortress with a strong tower, which wascalled 'Kärnan. ' And around the island a wall was built. Here, at thenorth and south ends of the wall, they made gates and placed strongtowers over them. Across the other islands they built bridges; thesewere likewise equipped with high towers. Out in the water, round about, they put a wreath of piles with bars that could open and close, so thatno vessel could sail past without permission. 

"Therefore you see, Clement, the four islands which had lain so longunnoticed were soon strongly fortified. But this was not all, for theshores and the sound tempted people, and before long they came from allquarters to settle there. They built a church, which has since beencalled 'Storkyrkan. ' Here it stands, near the castle. And here, withinthe walls, were the little huts the pioneers built for themselves. Theywere primitive, but they served their purpose. More was not needed atthat time to make the place pass for a city. And the city was namedStockholm. 

"There came a day, Clement, when the earl who had begun the work went tohis final rest, and Stockholm was without a master builder. Monks calledthe Gray Friars came to the country. Stockholm attracted them. Theyasked permission to erect a monastery there, so the king gave them anisland--one of the smaller ones--this one facing Lake Mälar. There theybuilt, and the place was called Gray Friars' Island. Other monks came, called the Black Friars. They, too, asked for right to build inStockholm, near the south gate. On this, the larger of the islands northof the city, a 'Holy Ghost House, ' or hospital, was built; while on thesmaller one thrifty men put up a mill, and along the little islandsclose by the monks fished. As you know, there is only one island now, for the canal between the two has filled up; but it is still called HolyGhost Island. 

"And now, Clement, all the little wooded islands were dotted withhouses, but still people kept streaming in; for these shores and watershave the power to draw people to them. Hither came pious women of theOrder of Saint Clara and asked for ground to build upon. For them therewas no choice but to settle on the north shore, at Norrmalm, as it iscalled. You may be sure that they were not over pleased with thislocation, for across Norrmalm ran a high ridge, and on that the city hadits gallows hill, so that it was a detested spot. Nevertheless the PoorClares erected their church and their convent on the strand below theridge. After they were established there they soon found plenty offollowers. Upon the ridge itself were built a hospital and a church, consecrated to Saint Goran, and just below the ridge a church waserected to Saint Jacob. 

"And even at Södermalm, where the mountain rises perpendicularly fromthe strand, they began to build. There they raised a church to SaintMary. 

"But you must not think that only cloister folk moved to Stockholm!There were also many others--principally German tradesmen and artisans. These were more skilled than the Swedes, and were well received. Theysettled within the walls of the city where they pulled down the wretchedlittle cabins that stood there and built high, magnificent stone houses. But space was not plentiful within the walls, therefore they had tobuild the houses close together, with gables facing the narrow by-lanes. So you see, Clement, that Stockholm could attract people!"

At this point in the narrative another gentleman appeared and walkedrapidly down the path toward the man who was talking to Clement, but hewaved his hand, and the other remained at a distance. The dignified oldgentleman still sat on the bench beside the fiddler. 

"Now, Clement, you must render me a service, " he said. "I have no timeto talk more with you, but I will send you a book about Stockholm andyou must read it from cover to cover. I have, so to speak, laid thefoundations of Stockholm for you. Study the rest out for yourself andlearn how the city has thrived and changed. Read how the little, narrow, wall-enclosed city on the islands has spread into this great sea ofhouses below us. Read how, on the spot where the dark tower Kärnan oncestood, the beautiful, light castle below us was erected and how the GrayFriars' church has been turned into the burial place of the Swedishkings; read how islet after islet was built up with factories; how theridge was lowered and the sound filled in; how the truck gardens at thesouth and north ends of the city have been converted into beautifulparks or built-up quarters; how the King's private deer park has becomethe people's favourite pleasure resort. You must make yourself at homehere, Clement. This city does not belong exclusively to theStockholmers. It belongs to you and to all Swedes. 

"As you read about Stockholm, remember that I have spoken the truth, forthe city has the power to draw every one to it. First the King movedhere, then the nobles built their palaces here, and then one afteranother was attracted to the place, so that now, as you see, Stockholmis not a city unto itself or for nearby districts; it has grown into acity for the whole kingdom. 

"You know, Clement, that there are judicial courts in every parishthroughout the land, but in Stockholm they have jurisdiction for thewhole nation. You know that there are judges in every district court inthe country, but at Stockholm there is only one court, to which all theothers are accountable. You know that there are barracks and troops inevery part of the land, but those at Stockholm command the whole army. Everywhere in the country you will find railroads, but the whole greatnational system is controlled and managed at Stockholm; here you willfind the governing boards for the clergy, for teachers, for physicians, for bailiffs and jurors. This is the heart of your country, Clement. Allthe change you have in your pocket is coined here, and the postagestamps you stick on your letters are made here. There is something herefor every Swede. Here no one need feel homesick, for here all Swedes areat home. 

"And when you read of all that has been brought here to Stockholm, thinktoo of the latest that the city has attracted to itself: these old-timepeasant cottages here at Skansen; the old dances; the old costumes andhouse-furnishings; the musicians and story-tellers. Everything good ofthe old times Stockholm has tempted here to Skansen to do it honour, that it may, in turn, stand before the people with renewed glory. 

"But, first and last, remember as you read about Stockholm that you areto sit in this place. You must see how the waves sparkle in joyous playand how the shores shimmer with beauty. You will come under the spell oftheir witchery, Clement. "

The handsome old gentleman had raised his voice, so that it rang outstrong and commanding, and his eyes shone. Then he rose, and, with awave of his hand to Clement, walked away. Clement understood that theone who had been talking to him was a great man, and he bowed to him aslow as he could. 

The next day came a royal lackey with a big red book and a letter forClement, and in the letter it said that the book was from the King. 

After that the little old man, Clement Larsson, was lightheaded forseveral days, and it was impossible to get a sensible word out of him. When a week had gone by, he went to the superintendent and gave in hisnotice. He simply had to go home. 

"Why must you go home? Can't you learn to be content here?" asked thedoctor. 

"Oh, I'm contented here, " said Clement. "That matter troubles me nolonger, but I must go home all the same. "

Clement was quite perturbed because the King had said that he shouldlearn all about Stockholm and be happy there. But he could not restuntil he had told every one at home that the King had said those wordsto him. He could not renounce the idea of standing on the church knollat home and telling high and low that the King had been so kind to him, that he had sat beside him on the bench, and had sent him a book, andhad taken the time to talk to him--a poor fiddler--for a whole hour, inorder to cure him of his homesickness. It was good to relate this to theLaplanders and Dalecarlian peasant girls at Skansen, but what was thatcompared to being able to tell of it at home?

Even if Clement were to end in the poorhouse, it wouldn't be so hardafter this. He was a totally different man from what he had been, and hewould be respected and honoured in a very different way. 

This new yearning took possession of Clement. He simply had to go up tothe doctor and say that he must go home. 

GORGO, THE EAGLE

IN THE MOUNTAIN GLEN

Far up among the mountains of Lapland there was an old eagle's nest on aledge which projected from a high cliff. The nest was made of dry twigsof pine and spruce, interlaced one with another until they formed aperfect network. Year by year the nest had been repaired andstrengthened. It was about two metres wide, and nearly as high as aLaplander's hut. 

The cliff on which the eagle's nest was situated towered above a bigglen, which was inhabited in summer by a flock of wild geese, as it wasan excellent refuge for them. It was so secluded between cliffs that notmany knew of it, even among the Laplanders themselves. 

In the heart of this glen there was a small, round lake in which was anabundance of food for the tiny goslings, and on the tufted lake shoreswhich were covered with osier bushes and dwarfed birches the geese foundfine nesting places. 

In all ages eagles had lived on the mountain, and geese in the glen. Every year the former carried off a few of the latter, but they werevery careful not to take so many that the wild geese would be afraid toremain in the glen. The geese, in their turn, found the eagles quiteuseful. They were robbers, to be sure, but they kept other robbers away. 

Two years before Nils Holgersson travelled with the wild geese the oldleader-goose, Akka from Kebnekaise, was standing at the foot of themountain slope looking toward the eagle's nest. 

The eagles were in the habit of starting on their chase soon aftersunrise; during the summers that Akka had lived in the glen she hadwatched every morning for their departure to find if they stopped in theglen to hunt, or if they flew beyond it to other hunting grounds. 

She did not have to wait long before the two eagles left the ledge onthe cliff. Stately and terror-striking they soared into the air. Theydirected their course toward the plain, and Akka breathed a sigh ofrelief. 

The old leader-goose's days of nesting and rearing of young were over, and during the summer she passed the time going from one goose range toanother, giving counsel regarding the brooding and care of the young. Aside from this she kept an eye out not only for eagles but also formountain fox and owls and all other enemies who were a menace to thewild geese and their young. 

About noontime Akka began to watch for the eagles again. This she haddone every day during all the summers that she had lived in the glen. She could tell at once by their flight if their hunt had beensuccessful, and in that event she felt relieved for the safety of thosewho belonged to her. But on this particular day she had not seen theeagles return. "I must be getting old and stupid, " she thought, when shehad waited a time for them. "The eagles have probably been home thislong while. "

In the afternoon she looked toward the cliff again, expecting to see theeagles perched on the rocky ledge where they usually took theirafternoon rest; toward evening, when they took their bath in the dalelake, she tried again to get sight of them, but failed. Again shebemoaned the fact that she was growing old. She was so accustomed tohaving the eagles on the mountain above her that she could not imaginethe possibility of their not having returned. 

The following morning Akka was awake in good season to watch for theeagles; but she did not see them. On the other hand, she heard in themorning stillness a cry that sounded both angry and plaintive, and itseemed to come from the eagles' nest. "Can there possibly be anythingamiss with the eagles?" she wondered. She spread her wings quickly, androse so high that she could perfectly well look down into the nest. 

There she saw neither of the eagles. There was no one in the nest save alittle half-fledged eaglet who was screaming for food. 

Akka sank down toward the eagles' nest, slowly and reluctantly. It was agruesome place to come to! It was plain what kind of robber folk livedthere! In the nest and on the cliff ledge lay bleached bones, bloodyfeathers, pieces of skin, hares' heads, birds' beaks, and the tuftedclaws of grouse. The eaglet, who was lying in the midst of this, wasrepulsive to look upon, with his big, gaping bill, his awkward, down-clad body, and his undeveloped wings where the prospective quillsstuck out like thorns. 

At last Akka conquered her repugnance and alighted on the edge of thenest, at the same time glancing about her anxiously in every direction, for each second she expected to see the old eagles coming back. 

"It is well that some one has come at last, " cried the baby eagle. "Fetch me some food at once!"

"Well, well, don't be in such haste, " said Akka. "Tell me first whereyour father and mother are. "

"That's what I should like to know myself. They went off yesterdaymorning and left me a lemming to live upon while they were away. You canbelieve that was eaten long ago. It's a shame for mother to let mestarve in this way!"

Akka began to think that the eagles had really been shot, and shereasoned that if she were to let the eaglet starve she might perhaps berid of the whole robber tribe for all time. But it went very muchagainst her not to succour a deserted young one so far as she could. 

"Why do you sit there and stare?" snapped the eaglet. "Didn't you hearme say I want food?"

Akka spread her wings and sank down to the little lake in the glen. Amoment later she returned to the eagles' nest with a salmon trout in herbill. 

The eaglet flew into a temper when she dropped the fish in front of him. 

"Do you think I can eat such stuff?" he shrieked, pushing it aside, andtrying to strike Akka with his bill. "Fetch me a willow grouse or alemming, do you hear?"

Akka stretched her head forward, and gave the eaglet a sharp nip in theneck. "Let me say to you, " remarked the old goose, "that if I'm toprocure food for you, you must be satisfied with what I give you. Yourfather and mother are dead, and from them you can get no help; but ifyou want to lie here and starve to death while you wait for grouse andlemming, I shall not hinder you. "

When Akka had spoken her mind she promptly retired, and did not show herface in the eagles' nest again for some time. But when she did return, the eaglet had eaten the fish, and when she dropped another in front ofhim he swallowed it at once, although it was plain that he found it verydistasteful. 

Akka had imposed upon herself a tedious task. The old eagles neverappeared again, and she alone had to procure for the eaglet all the foodhe needed. She gave him fish and frogs and he did not seem to fare badlyon this diet, but grew big and strong. He soon forgot his parents, theeagles, and fancied that Akka was his real mother. Akka, in turn, lovedhim as if he had been her own child. She tried to give him a goodbringing up, and to cure him of his wildness and overbearing ways. 

After a fortnight Akka observed that the time was approaching for her tomoult and put on a new feather dress so as to be ready to fly. For awhole moon she would be unable to carry food to the baby eaglet, and hemight starve to death. 

So Akka said to him one day: "Gorgo, I can't come to you any more withfish. Everything depends now upon your pluck--which means can you dareto venture into the glen, so I can continue to procure food for you? Youmust choose between starvation and flying down to the glen, but that, too, may cost you your life. "

Without a second's hesitation the eaglet stepped upon the edge of thenest. Barely taking the trouble to measure the distance to the bottom, he spread his tiny wings and started away. He rolled over and over inspace, but nevertheless made enough use of his wings to reach the groundalmost unhurt. 

Down there in the glen Gorgo passed the summer in company with thelittle goslings, and was a good comrade for them. Since he regardedhimself as a gosling, he tried to live as they lived; when they swam inthe lake he followed them until he came near drowning. It was mostembarrassing to him that he could not learn to swim, and he went to Akkaand complained of his inability. 

"Why can't I swim like the others?" he asked. 

"Your claws grew too hooked, and your toes too large while you were upthere on the cliff, " Akka replied. "But you'll make a fine bird all thesame. "

The eaglet's wings soon grew so large that they could carry him; but notuntil autumn, when the goslings learned to fly, did it dawn upon himthat he could use them for flight. There came a proud time for him, forat this sport he was the peer of them all. His companions never stayedup in the air any longer than they had to, but he stayed there nearlythe whole day, and practised the art of flying. So far it had notoccurred to him that he was of another species than the geese, but hecould not help noting a number of things that surprised him, and hequestioned Akka constantly. 

"Why do grouse and lemming run and hide when they see my shadow on thecliff?" he queried. "They don't show such fear of the other goslings. "

"Your wings grew too big when you were on the cliff, " said Akka. "It isthat which frightens the little wretches. But don't be unhappy becauseof that. You'll be a fine bird all the same. "

After the eagle had learned to fly, he taught himself to fish, and tocatch frogs. But by and by he began to ponder this also. 

"How does it happen that I live on fish and frogs?" he asked. "The othergoslings don't. "

"This is due to the fact that I had no other food to give you when youwere on the cliff, " said Akka. "But don't let that make you sad. You'llbe a fine bird all the same. "

When the wild geese began their autumn moving, Gorgo flew along with theflock, regarding himself all the while as one of them. The air wasfilled with birds who were on their way south, and there was greatexcitement among them when Akka appeared with an eagle in her train. Thewild goose flock was continually surrounded by swarms of the curious wholoudly expressed their astonishment. Akka bade them be silent, but itwas impossible to stop so many wagging tongues. 

"Why do they call me an eagle?" Gorgo asked repeatedly, growing more andmore exasperated. "Can't they see that I'm a wild goose? I'm nobird-eater who preys upon his kind. How dare they give me such an uglyname?"

One day they flew above a barn yard where many chickens walked on a dumpheap and picked. "An eagle! An eagle!" shrieked the chickens, andstarted to run for shelter. But Gorgo, who had heard the eagles spokenof as savage criminals, could not control his anger. He snapped hiswings together and shot down to the ground, striking his talons into oneof the hens. "I'll teach you, I will, that I'm no eagle!" he screamedfuriously, and struck with his beak. 

That instant he heard Akka call to him from the air, and roseobediently. The wild goose flew toward him and began to reprimand him. "What are you trying to do?" she cried, beating him with her bill. "Wasit perhaps your intention to tear that poor hen to pieces?" But when theeagle took his punishment from the wild goose without a protest, therearose from the great bird throng around them a perfect storm of tauntsand gibes. The eagle heard this, and turned toward Akka with flamingeyes, as though he would have liked to attack her. But he suddenlychanged his mind, and with quick wing strokes bounded into the air, soaring so high that no call could reach him; and he sailed around upthere as long as the wild geese saw him. 

Two days later he appeared again in the wild goose flock. 

"I know who I am, " he said to Akka. "Since I am an eagle, I must liveas becomes an eagle; but I think that we can be friends all the same. You or any of yours I shall never attack. "

But Akka had set her heart on successfully training an eagle into a mildand harmless bird, and she could not tolerate his wanting to do as hechose. 

"Do you think that I wish to be the friend of a bird-eater?" she asked. "Live as I have taught you to live, and you may travel with my flock asheretofore. "

Both were proud and stubborn, and neither of them would yield. It endedin Akka's forbidding the eagle to show his face in her neighbourhood, and her anger toward him was so intense that no one dared speak his namein her presence. 

After that Gorgo roamed around the country, alone and shunned, like allgreat robbers. He was often downhearted, and certainly longed many atime for the days when he thought himself a wild goose, and played withthe merry goslings. 

Among the animals he had a great reputation for courage. They used tosay of him that he feared no one but his foster-mother, Akka. And theycould also say of him that he never used violence against a wild goose. 

IN CAPTIVITY

Gorgo was only three years old, and had not as yet thought aboutmarrying and procuring a home for himself, when he was captured one dayby a hunter, and sold to the Skansen Zoölogical Garden, where there werealready two eagles held captive in a cage built of iron bars and steelwires. The cage stood out in the open, and was so large that a couple oftrees had easily been moved into it, and quite a large cairn was piledup in there. Notwithstanding all this, the birds were unhappy. They satmotionless on the same spot nearly all day. Their pretty, dark featherdresses became rough and lustreless, and their eyes were riveted withhopeless longing on the sky without. 

During the first week of Gorgo's captivity he was still awake and fullof life, but later a heavy torpor came upon him. He perched himself onone spot, like the other eagles, and stared at vacancy. He no longerknew how the days passed. 

One morning when Gorgo sat in his usual torpor, he heard some one callto him from below. He was so drowsy that he could barely rouse himselfenough to lower his glance. 

"Who is calling me?" he asked. 

"Oh, Gorgo! Don't you know me? It's Thumbietot who used to fly aroundwith the wild geese. "

"Is Akka also captured?" asked Gorgo in the tone of one who is trying tocollect his thoughts after a long sleep. 

"No; Akka, the white goosey-gander, and the whole flock are probablysafe and sound up in Lapland at this season, " said the boy. "It's only Iwho am a prisoner here. "

As the boy was speaking he noticed that Gorgo averted his glance, andbegan to stare into space again. 

"Golden eagle!" cried the boy; "I have not forgotten that once youcarried me back to the wild geese, and that you spared the whitegoosey-gander's life! Tell me if I can be of any help to you!"

Gorgo scarcely raised his head. "Don't disturb me, Thumbietot, " heyawned. "I'm sitting here dreaming that I am free, and am soaring awayup among the clouds. I don't want to be awake. "

"You must rouse yourself, and see what goes on around you, " the boyadmonished, "or you will soon look as wretched as the other eagles. "

"I wish I were as they are! They are so lost in their dreams thatnothing more can trouble them, " said the eagle. 

When night came, and all three eagles were asleep, there was a lightscraping on the steel wires stretched across the top of the cage. Thetwo listless old captives did not allow themselves to be disturbed bythe noise, but Gorgo awakened. 

"Who's there? Who is moving up on the roof?" he asked. 

"It's Thumbietot, Gorgo, " answered the boy. "I'm sitting here filingaway at the steel wires so that you can escape. "

The eagle raised his head, and saw in the night light how the boy satand filed the steel wires at the top of the cage. He felt hopeful for aninstant, but soon discouragement got the upper hand. 

"I'm a big bird, Thumbietot, " said Gorgo; "how can you ever manage tofile away enough wires for me to come out? You'd better quit that, andleave me in peace. "

"Oh, go to sleep, and don't bother about me!" said the boy. "I'll not bethrough to-night nor to-morrow night, but I shall try to free you intime for here you'll become a total wreck. "

Gorgo fell asleep. When he awoke the next morning he saw at a glancethat a number of wires had been filed. That day he felt less drowsy thanhe had done in the past. He spread his wings, and fluttered from branchto branch to get the stiffness out of his joints. 

One morning early, just as the first streak of sunlight made itsappearance, Thumbietot awakened the eagle. 

"Try now, Gorgo!" he whispered. 

The eagle looked up. The boy had actually filed off so many wires thatnow there was a big hole in the wire netting. Gorgo flapped his wingsand propelled himself upward. Twice he missed and fell back into thecage; but finally he succeeded in getting out. 

With proud wing strokes he soared into the clouds. Little Thumbietot satand gazed after him with a mournful expression. He wished that some onewould come and give him his freedom too. 

The boy was domiciled now at Skansen. He had become acquainted with allthe animals there, and had made many friends among them. He had to admitthat there was so much to see and learn there that it was not difficultfor him to pass the time. To be sure his thoughts went forth every dayto Morten Goosey-Gander and his other comrades, and he yearned for them. "If only I weren't bound by my promise, " he thought, "I'd find some birdto take me to them!"

It may seem strange that Clement Larsson had not restored the boy'sliberty, but one must remember how excited the little fiddler had beenwhen he left Skansen. The morning of his departure he had thought ofsetting out the midget's food in a blue bowl, but, unluckily, he hadbeen unable to find one. All the Skansen folk--Lapps, peasant girls, artisans, and gardeners--had come to bid him good-bye, and he had had notime to search for a blue bowl. It was time to start, and at the lastmoment he had to ask the old Laplander to help him. 

"One of the tiny folk happens to be living here at Skansen, " saidClement, "and every morning I set out a little food for him. Will you dome the favour of taking these few coppers and purchasing a blue bowlwith them? Put a little gruel and milk in it, and to-morrow morning setit out under the steps of Bollnäs cottage. "

The old Laplander looked surprised, but there was no time for Clement toexplain further, as he had to be off to the railway station. 

The Laplander went down to the zoölogical village to purchase the bowl. As he saw no blue one that he thought appropriate, he bought a whiteone, and this he conscientiously filled and set out every morning. 

That was why the boy had not been released from his pledge. He knew thatClement had gone away, but _he_ was not allowed to leave. 

That night the boy longed more than ever for his freedom. This wasbecause summer had come now in earnest. During his travels he hadsuffered much in cold and stormy weather, and when he first came toSkansen he had thought that perhaps it was just as well that he had beencompelled to break the journey. He would have been frozen to death hadhe gone to Lapland in the month of May. But now it was warm; the earthwas green-clad, birches and poplars were clothed in their satinyfoliage, and the cherry trees--in fact all the fruit trees--were coveredwith blossoms. The berry bushes had green berries on their stems; theoaks had carefully unfolded their leaves, and peas, cabbages, and beanswere growing in the vegetable garden at Skansen. 

"Now it must be warm up in Lapland, " thought the boy. "I should like tobe seated on Morten Goosey-Gander's back on a fine morning like this! Itwould be great fun to ride around in the warm, still air, and look downat the ground, as it now lies decked with green grass, and embellishedwith pretty blossoms. "

He sat musing on this when the eagle suddenly swooped down from the sky, and perched beside the boy, on top of the cage. 

"I wanted to try my wings to see if they were still good for anything, "said Gorgo. "You didn't suppose that I meant to leave you here incaptivity? Get up on my back, and I'll take you to your comrades. "

"No, that's impossible!" the boy answered. "I have pledged my word thatI would stay here till I am liberated. "

"What sort of nonsense are you talking?" protested Gorgo. "In the firstplace they brought you here against your will; then they forced you topromise that you would remain here. Surely you must understand that sucha promise one need not keep?"

"Oh, no, I must keep it, " said the boy. "I thank you all the same foryour kind intention, but you can't help me. "

"Oh, can't I?" said Gorgo. "We'll see about that!" In a twinkling hegrasped Nils Holgersson in his big talons, and rose with him toward theskies, disappearing in a northerly direction. 

ON OVER GÄSTRIKLAND

THE PRECIOUS GIRDLE

_Wednesday, June fifteenth_. 

The eagle kept on flying until he was a long distance north ofStockholm. Then he sank to a wooded hillock where he relaxed his hold onthe boy. 

The instant Thumbietot was out of Gorgo's clutches he started to runback to the city as fast as he could. 

The eagle made a long swoop, caught up to the boy, and stopped him withhis claw. 

"Do you propose to go back to prison?" he demanded. 

"That's my affair. I can go where I like, for all of you!" retorted theboy, trying to get away. Thereupon the eagle gripped him with his strongtalons, and rose in the air. 

Now Gorgo circled over the entire province of Uppland and did not stopagain until he came to the great water-falls at Älvkarleby where healighted on a rock in the middle of the rushing rapids below the roaringfalls. Again he relaxed his hold on the captive. 

The boy saw that here there was no chance of escape from the eagle. Above them the white scum wall of the water-fall came tumbling down, andround about the river rushed along in a mighty torrent. Thumbietot wasvery indignant to think that in this way he had been forced to become apromise-breaker. He turned his back to the eagle and would not speak tohim. 

Now that the bird had set the boy down in a place from which he couldnot run away, he told him confidentially that he had been brought up byAkka from Kebnekaise, and that he had quarrelled with his foster-mother. 

"Now, Thumbietot, perhaps you understand why I wish to take you back tothe wild geese, " he said. "I have heard that you are in great favourwith Akka, and it was my purpose to ask you to make peace between us. "

As soon as the boy comprehended that the eagle had not carried him offin a spirit of contrariness, he felt kindly toward him. 

"I should like very much to help you, " he returned, "but I am bound bymy promise. " Thereupon he explained to the eagle how he had fallen intocaptivity and how Clement Larsson had left Skansen without setting himfree. 

Nevertheless the eagle would not relinquish his plan. 

"Listen to me, Thumbietot, " he said. "My wings can carry you whereveryou wish to go, and my eyes can search out whatever you wish to find. Tell me how the man looks who exacted this promise from you, and I willfind him and take you to him. Then it is for you to do the rest. "

Thumbietot approved of the proposition. 

"I can see, Gorgo, that you have had a wise bird like Akka for afoster-mother, " the boy remarked. 

He gave a graphic description of Clement Larsson, and added that he hadheard at Skansen that the little fiddler was from Hälsingland. 

"We'll search for him through the whole of Hälsingland--from Ljungby toMellansjö; from Great Mountain to Hornland, " said the eagle. "To-morrowbefore sundown you shall have a talk with the man!"

"I fear you are promising more than you can perform, " doubted the boy. 

"I should be a mighty poor eagle if I couldn't do that much, " saidGorgo. 

So when Gorgo and Thumbietot left Älvkarleby they were good friends, andthe boy willingly took his mount for a ride on the eagle's back. Thus hehad an opportunity to see much of the country. 

When clutched in the eagle's talons he had seen nothing. Perhaps it wasjust as well, for in the forenoon he had travelled over Upsala, Österby's big factories, the Dannemora Mine, and the ancient castle ofÖrbyhus, and he would have been sadly disappointed at not seeing themhad he known of their proximity. 

The eagle bore him speedily over Gästrikland. In the southern part ofthe province there was very little to tempt the eye. But as they flewnorthward, it began to be interesting. 

"This country is clad in a spruce skirt and a gray-stone jacket, "thought the boy. "But around its waist it wears a girdle which has notits match in value, for it is embroidered with blue lakes and greengroves. The great ironworks adorn it like a row of precious stones, andits buckle is a whole city with castles and cathedrals and greatclusters of houses. "

When the travellers arrived in the northern forest region, Gorgoalighted on top of a mountain. As the boy dismounted, the eagle said:

"There's game in this forest, and I can't forget my late captivity andfeel really free until I have gone a-hunting. You won't mind my leavingyou for a while?"

"No, of course, I won't, " the boy assured him. 

"You may go where you like if only you are back here by sundown, " saidthe eagle, as he flew off. 

The boy sat on a stone gazing across the bare, rocky ground and thegreat forests round about. 

He felt rather lonely. But soon he heard singing in the forest below, and saw something bright moving amongst the trees. Presently he saw ablue and yellow banner, and he knew by the songs and the merry chatterthat it was being borne at the head of a procession. On it came, up thewinding path; he wondered where it and those who followed it were going. He couldn't believe that anybody would come up to such an ugly, desolatewaste as the place where he sat. But the banner was nearing the forestborder, and behind it marched many happy people for whom it had led theway. Suddenly there was life and movement all over the mountain plain;after that there was so much for the boy to see that he didn't have adull moment. 

FOREST DAY

On the mountain's broad back, where Gorgo left Thumbietot, there hadbeen a forest fire ten years before. Since that time the charred treeshad been felled and removed, and the great fire-swept area had begun todeck itself with green along the edges, where it skirted the healthyforest. However, the larger part of the top was still barren andappallingly desolate. Charred stumps, standing sentinel-like between therock ledges, bore witness that once there had been a fine forest here;but no fresh roots sprang from the ground. 

One day in the early summer all the children in the parish had assembledin front of the schoolhouse near the fire-swept mountain. Each childcarried either a spade or a hoe on its shoulder, and a basket of food inits hand. As soon as all were assembled, they marched in a longprocession toward the forest. The banner came first, with the teacherson either side of it; then followed a couple of foresters and a wagonload of pine shrubs and spruce seeds; then the children. 

The procession did not pause in any of the birch groves near thesettlements, but marched on deep into the forest. As it moved along, thefoxes stuck their heads out of the lairs in astonishment, and wonderedwhat kind of backwoods people these were. As they marched past old coalpits where charcoal kilns were fired every autumn, the cross-beakstwisted their hooked bills, and asked one another what kind of coalersthese might be who were now thronging the forest. 

Finally, the procession reached the big, burnt mountain plain. The rockshad been stripped of the fine twin-flower creepers that once coveredthem; they had been robbed of the pretty silver moss and the attractivereindeer moss. Around the dark water gathered in clefts and hollowsthere was now no wood-sorrel. The little patches of soil in crevices andbetween stones were without ferns, without star-flowers, without all thegreen and red and light and soft and soothing things which usuallyclothe the forest ground. 

It was as if a bright light flashed upon the mountain when all theparish children covered it. Here again was something sweet and delicate;something fresh and rosy; something young and growing. Perhaps thesechildren would bring to the poor abandoned forest a little new life. 

When the children had rested and eaten their luncheon, they seized hoesand spades and began to work. The foresters showed them what to do. Theyset out shrub after shrub on every clear spot of earth they could find. 

As they worked, they talked quite knowingly among themselves of how thelittle shrubs they were planting would bind the soil so that it couldnot get away, and of how new soil would form under the trees. By and byseeds would drop, and in a few years they would be picking bothstrawberries and raspberries where now there were only bare rocks. Thelittle shrubs which they were planting would gradually become talltrees. Perhaps big houses and great splendid ships would be built fromthem!

If the children had not come here and planted while there was still alittle soil in the clefts, all the earth would have been carried away bywind and water, and the mountain could never more have been clothed ingreen. 

"It was well that we came, " said the children. "We were just in the nickof time!" They felt very important. 

While they were working on the mountain, their parents were at home. Byand by they began to wonder how the children were getting along. Ofcourse it was only a joke about their planting a forest, but it might beamusing to see what they were trying to do. 

So presently both fathers and mothers were on their way to the forest. When they came to the outlying stock farms they met some of theirneighbours. 

"Are you going to the fire-swept mountain?" they asked. 

"That's where we're bound for. "

"To have a look at the children?"

"Yes, to see what they're up to. "

"It's only play, of course. "

"It isn't likely that there will be many forest trees planted by theyoungsters. We have brought the coffee pot along so that we can havesomething warm to drink, since we must stay there all day with onlylunch-basket provisions. "

So the parents of the children went on up the mountain. At first theythought only of how pretty it looked to see all the rosy-cheeked littlechildren scattered over the gray hills. Later, they observed how thechildren were working--how some were setting out shrubs, while otherswere digging furrows and sowing seeds. Others again were pulling upheather to prevent its choking the young trees. They saw that thechildren took the work seriously and were so intent upon what they weredoing that they scarcely had time to glance up. 

The fathers and mothers stood for a moment and looked on; then they toobegan to pull up heather--just for the fun of it. The children were theinstructors, for they were already trained, and had to show their elderswhat to do. 

Thus it happened that all the grown-ups who had come to watch thechildren took part in the work. Then, of course, it became greater funthan before. By and by the children had even more help. Other implementswere needed, so a couple of long-legged boys were sent down to thevillage for spades and hoes. As they ran past the cabins, thestay-at-homes came out and asked: "What's wrong? Has there been anaccident?"

"No, indeed! But the whole parish is up on the fire-swept mountainplanting a forest. "

"If the whole parish is there, we can't stay at home!"

So party after party of peasants went crowding to the top of the burntmountain. They stood a moment and looked on. The temptation to join theworkers was irresistible. 

"It's a pleasure to sow one's own acres in the spring, and to think ofthe grain that will spring up from the earth, but this work is even morealluring, " they thought. 

Not only slender blades would come from that sowing, but mighty treeswith tall trunks and sturdy branches. It meant giving birth not merelyto a summer's grain, but to many years' growths. It meant the awakeninghum of insects, the song of the thrush, the play of grouse and all kindsof life on the desolate mountain. Moreover, it was like raising amemorial for coming generations. They could have left a bare, treelessheight as a heritage. Instead they were to leave a glorious forest. 

Coming generations would know their forefathers had been a good and wisefolk and they would remember them with reverence and gratitude. 

A DAY IN HÄLSINGLAND

A LARGE GREEN LEAF

_Thursday, June sixteenth_. 

The following day the boy travelled over Hälsingland. It spread beneathhim with new, pale-green shoots on the pine trees, new birch leaves inthe groves, new green grass in the meadows, and sprouting grain in thefields. It was a mountainous country, but directly through it ran abroad, light valley from either side of which branched othervalleys--some short and narrow, some broad and long. 

"This land resembles a leaf, " thought the boy, "for it's as green as aleaf, and the valleys subdivide it in about the same way as the veins ofa leaf are foliated. "

The branch valleys, like the main one, were filled with lakes, rivers, farms, and villages. They snuggled, light and smiling, between the darkmountains until they were gradually squeezed together by the hills. There they were so narrow that they could not hold more than a littlebrook. 

On the high land between the valleys there were pine forests which hadno even ground to grow upon. There were mountains standing all about, and the forest covered the whole, like a woolly hide stretched over abony body. 

It was a picturesque country to look down upon, and the boy saw a gooddeal of it, because the eagle was trying to find the old fiddler, Clement Larsson, and flew from ravine to ravine looking for him. 

A little later in the morning there was life and movement on every farm. The doors of the cattle sheds were thrown wide open and the cows werelet out. They were prettily coloured, small, supple and sprightly, andso sure-footed that they made the most comic leaps and bounds. Afterthem came the calves and sheep, and it was plainly to be seen that they, too, were in the best of spirits. 

It grew livelier every moment in the farm yards. A couple of young girlswith knapsacks on their backs walked among the cattle; a boy with a longswitch kept the sheep together, and a little dog ran in and out amongthe cows, barking at the ones that tried to gore him. The farmer hitcheda horse to a cart loaded with tubs of butter, boxes of cheese, and allkinds of eatables. The people laughed and chattered. They and the beastswere alike merry--as if looking forward to a day of real pleasure. 

A moment later all were on their way to the forest. One of the girlswalked in the lead and coaxed the cattle with pretty, musical calls. Theanimals followed in a long line. The shepherd boy and the sheep-dog ranhither and thither, to see that no creature turned from the rightcourse; and last came the farmer and his hired man. They walked besidethe cart to prevent its being upset, for the road they followed was anarrow, stony forest path. 

It may have been the custom for all the peasants in Hälsingland to sendtheir cattle into the forests on the same day--or perhaps it onlyhappened so that year; at any rate the boy saw how processions of happypeople and cattle wandered out from every valley and every farm andrushed into the lonely forest, filling it with life. From the depths ofthe dense woods the boy heard the shepherd maidens' songs and the tinkleof the cow bells. Many of the processions had long and difficult roadsto travel; and the boy saw how they tramped through marshes, how theyhad to take roundabout ways to get past windfalls, and how, time andagain, the carts bumped against stones and turned over with all theircontents. But the people met all the obstacles with jokes and laughter. 

In the afternoon they came to a cleared space where cattle sheds and acouple of rude cabins had been built. The cows mooed with delight asthey tramped on the luscious green grass in the yards between thecabins, and at once began grazing. The peasants, with merry chatter andbanter, carried water and wood and all that had been brought in thecarts into the larger cabin. Presently smoke rose from the chimney andthen the dairymaids, the shepherd boy, and the men squatted upon a flatrock and ate their supper. 

Gorgo, the eagle, was certain that he should find Clement Larsson amongthose who were off for the forest. Whenever he saw a stock farmprocession, he sank down and scrutinized it with his sharp eyes; buthour after hour passed without his finding the one he sought. 

After much circling around, toward evening they came to a stony anddesolate tract east of the great main valley. There the boy saw anotheroutlying stock farm under him. The people and the cattle had arrived. The men were splitting wood, and the dairymaids were milking the cows. 

"Look there!" said Gorgo. "I think we've got him. "

He sank, and, to his great astonishment, the boy saw that the eagle wasright. There indeed stood little Clement Larsson chopping wood. 

Gorgo alighted on a pine tree in the thick woods a little away from thehouse. 

"I have fulfilled my obligation, " said the eagle, with a proud toss ofhis head. "Now you must try and have a word with the man. I'll perchhere at the top of the thick pine and wait for you. "

THE ANIMALS' NEW YEAR'S EVE

The day's work was done at the forest ranches, supper was over, and thepeasants sat about and chatted. It was a long time since they had beenin the forest of a summer's night, and they seemed reluctant to go tobed and sleep. It was as light as day, and the dairymaids were busy withtheir needle-work. Ever and anon they raised their heads, looked towardthe forest and smiled. "Now we are here again!" they said. The town, with its unrest, faded from their minds, and the forest, with itspeaceful stillness, enfolded them. When at home they had wondered howthey should ever be able to endure the loneliness of the woods; butonce there, they felt that they were having their best time. 

Many of the young girls and young men from neighbouring ranches had cometo call upon them, so that there were quite a lot of folk seated on thegrass before the cabins, but they did not find it easy to startconversation. The men were going home the next day, so the dairymaidsgave them little commissions and bade them take greetings to theirfriends in the village. This was nearly all that had been said. 

Suddenly the eldest of the dairy girls looked up from her work and saidlaughingly:

"There's no need of our sitting here so silent to-night, for we have twostory-tellers with us. One is Clement Larsson, who sits beside me, andthe other is Bernhard from Sunnasjö, who stands back there gazing towardBlack's Ridge. I think that we should ask each of them to tell us astory. To the one who entertains us the better I shall give the mufflerI am knitting. "

This proposal won hearty applause. The two competitors offered lameexcuses, naturally, but were quickly persuaded. Clement asked Bernhardto begin, and he did not object. He knew little of Clement Larsson, butassumed that he would come out with some story about ghosts and trolls. As he knew that people liked to listen to such things, he thought itbest to choose something of the same sort. 

"Some centuries ago, " he began, "a dean here in Delsbo township wasriding through the dense forest on a New Year's Eve. He was onhorseback, dressed in fur coat and cap. On the pommel of his saddle hunga satchel in which he kept the communion service, the Prayer-book, andthe clerical robe. He had been summoned on a parochial errand to aremote forest settlement, where he had talked with a sick person untillate in the evening. Now he was on his way home, but feared that heshould not get back to the rectory until after midnight. 

"As he had to sit in the saddle when he should have been at home in hisbed, he was glad it was not a rough night. The weather was mild, the airstill and the skies overcast. Behind the clouds hung a full round moonwhich gave some light, although it was out of sight. But for that faintlight it would have been impossible for him to distinguish paths fromfields, for that was a snowless winter, and all things had the samegrayish-brown colour. 

"The horse the dean rode was one he prized very highly. He was strongand sturdy, and quite as wise as a human being. He could find his wayhome from any place in the township. The dean had observed this onseveral occasions, and he relied upon it with such a sense of securitythat he never troubled himself to think where he was going when he rodethat horse. So he came along now in the gray night, through thebewildering forest, with the reins dangling and his thoughts far away. 

"He was thinking of the sermon he had to preach on the morrow, and ofmuch else besides, and it was a long time before it occurred to him tonotice how far along he was on his homeward way. When he did glance up, he saw that the forest was as dense about him as at the beginning, andhe was somewhat surprised, for he had ridden so long that he should havecome to the inhabited portion of the township. 

"Delsbo was about the same then as now. The church and parsonage and allthe large farms and villages were at the northern end of the township, while at the southern part there were only forests and mountains. Thedean saw that he was still in the unpopulated district and knew that hewas in the southern part and must ride to the north to get home. Therewere no stars, nor was there a moon to guide him; but he was a man whohad the four cardinal points in his head. He had the positive feelingthat he was travelling southward, or possibly eastward. 

"He intended to turn the horse at once, but hesitated. The animal hadnever strayed, and it did not seem likely that he would do so now. Itwas more likely that the dean was mistaken. He had been far away inthought and had not looked at the road. So he let the horse continue inthe same direction, and again lost himself in his reverie. 

"Suddenly a big branch struck him and almost swept him off the horse. Then he realized that he must find out where he was. 

"He glanced down and saw that he was riding over a soft marsh, wherethere was no beaten path. The horse trotted along at a brisk pace andshowed no uncertainty. Again the dean was positive that he was going inthe wrong direction, and now he did not hesitate to interfere. He seizedthe reins and turned the horse about, guiding him back to the roadway. No sooner was he there than he turned again and made straight for thewoods. 

"The dean was certain that he was going wrong, but because the beast wasso persistent he thought that probably he was trying to find a betterroad, and let him go along. 

"The horse did very well, although he had no path to follow. If aprecipice obstructed his way, he climbed it as nimbly as a goat, andlater, when they had to descend, he bunched his hoofs and slid down therocky inclines. 

"'May he only find his way home before church hour!' thought the dean. 'I wonder how the Delsbo folk would take it if I were not at my churchon time?'

"He did not have to brood over this long, for soon he came to a placethat was familiar to him. It was a little creek where he had fished thesummer before. Now he saw it was as he had feared--he was in the depthsof the forest, and the horse was plodding along in a south-easterlydirection. He seemed determined to carry the dean as far from church andrectory as he could. 

"The clergyman dismounted. He could not let the horse carry him into thewilderness. He must go home. And, since the animal persisted in going inthe wrong direction, he decided to walk and lead him until they came tomore familiar roads. The dean wound the reins around his arm and beganto walk. It was not an easy matter to tramp through the forest in aheavy fur coat; but the dean was strong and hardy and had little fear ofoverexertion. 

"The horse, meanwhile, caused him fresh anxiety. He would not follow butplanted his hoofs firmly on the ground. 

"At last the dean was angry. He had never beaten that horse, nor did hewish to do so now. Instead, he threw down the reins and walked away. 

"'We may as well part company here, since you want to go your own way, 'he said. 

"He had not taken more than two steps before the horse came after him, took a cautious grip on his coat sleeve and stopped him. The dean turnedand looked the horse straight in the eyes, as if to search out why hebehaved so strangely. 

"Afterward the dean could not quite understand how this was possible, but it is certain that, dark as it was, he plainly saw the horse's faceand read it like that of a human being. He realized that the animal wasin a terrible state of apprehension and fear. He gave his master a lookthat was both imploring and reproachful. 

"'I have served you day after day and done your bidding, ' he seemed tosay. 'Will you not follow me this one night?'

"The dean was touched by the appeal in the animal's eyes. It was clearthat the horse needed his help to-night, in one way or another. Being aman through and through, the dean promptly determined to follow him. Without further delay he sprang into the saddle. 'Go on!' he said. 'Iwill not desert you since you want me. No one shall say of the dean inDelsbo that he refused to accompany any creature who was in trouble. '

"He let the horse go as he wished and thought only of keeping his seat. It proved to be a hazardous and troublesome journey--uphill most of theway. The forest was so thick that he could not see two feet ahead, butit appeared to him that they were ascending a high mountain. The horseclimbed perilous steeps. Had the dean been guiding, he should not havethought of riding over such ground. 

"'Surely you don't intend to go up to Black's Ridge, do you?' laughedthe dean, who knew that was one of the highest peaks in Hälsingland. 

"During the ride he discovered that he and the horse were not the onlyones who were out that night. He heard stones roll down and branchescrackle, as if animals were breaking their way through the forest. Heremembered that wolves were plentiful in that section and wondered ifthe horse wished to lead him to an encounter with wild beasts. 

"They mounted up and up, and the higher they went the more scatteredwere the trees. At last they rode on almost bare highland, where thedean could look in every direction. He gazed out over immeasurabletracts of land, which went up and down in mountains and valleys coveredwith sombre forests. It was so dark that he had difficulty in seeing anyorderly arrangement; but presently he could make out where he was. 

"'Why of course it's Black's Ridge that I've come to!' he remarked tohimself. 'It can't be any other mountain, for there, in the west, I seeJarv Island, and to the east the sea glitters around Ag Island. Towardthe north also I see something shiny. It must be Dellen. In the depthsbelow me I see white smoke from Nian Falls. Yes, I'm up on Black'sRidge. What an adventure!'

"When they were at the summit the horse stopped behind a thick pine, asif to hide. The dean bent forward and pushed aside the branches, that hemight have an unobstructed view. 

"The mountain's bald plate confronted him. It was not empty anddesolate, as he had anticipated. In the middle of the open space was animmense boulder around which many wild beasts had gathered. Apparentlythey were holding a conclave of some sort. 

"Near to the big rock he saw bears, so firmly and heavily built thatthey seemed like fur-clad blocks of stone. They were lying down andtheir little eyes blinked impatiently; it was obvious that they had comefrom their winter sleep to attend court, and that they could hardly keepawake. Behind them, in tight rows, were hundreds of wolves. They werenot sleepy, for wolves are more alert in winter than in summer. They satupon their haunches, like dogs, whipping the ground with their tails andpanting--their tongues lolling far out of their jaws. Behind the wolvesthe lynx skulked, stiff-legged and clumsy, like misshapen cats. Theywere loath to be among the other beasts, and hissed and spat when onecame near them. The row back of the lynx was occupied by the wolverines, with dog faces and bear coats. They were not happy on the ground, andthey stamped their pads impatiently, longing to get into the trees. Behind them, covering the entire space to the forest border, leaped thefoxes, the weasels, and the martens. These were small and perfectlyformed, but they looked even more savage and bloodthirsty than thelarger beasts. 

"All this the dean plainly saw, for the whole place was illuminated. Upon the huge rock at the centre was the Wood-nymph, who held in herhand a pine torch which burned in a big red flame. The Nymph was as tallas the tallest tree in the forest. She wore a spruce-brush mantle andhad spruce-cone hair. She stood very still, her face turned toward theforest. She was watching and listening. 

"The dean saw everything as plain as plain could be, but hisastonishment was so great that he tried to combat it, and would notbelieve the evidence of his own eyes. 

"'Such things cannot possibly happen!' he thought. 'I have ridden muchtoo long in the bleak forest. This is only an optical illusion. '

"Nevertheless he gave the closest attention to the spectacle, andwondered what was about to be done. 

"He hadn't long to wait before he caught the sound of a familiar bell, coming from the depths of the forest, and the next moment he heardfootfalls and crackling of branches--as when many animals break throughthe forest. 

"A big herd of cattle was climbing the mountain. They came through theforest in the order in which they had marched to the mountain ranches. First came the bell cow followed by the bull, then the other cows andthe calves. The sheep, closely herded, followed. After them came thegoats, and last were the horses and colts. The sheep-dog trotted alongbeside the sheep; but neither shepherd nor shepherdess attended them. 

"The dean thought it heart-rending to see the tame animals comingstraight toward the wild beasts. He would gladly have blocked their wayand called 'Halt!' but he understood that it was not within human powerto stop the march of the cattle on this night; therefore he made nomove. 

"The domestic animals were in a state of torment over that which theyhad to face. If it happened to be the bell cow's turn, she advanced withdrooping head and faltering step. The goats had no desire either to playor to butt. The horses tried to bear up bravely, but their bodies wereall of a quiver with fright. The most pathetic of all was the sheep-dog. He kept his tail between his legs and crawled on the ground. 

"The bell cow led the procession all the way up to the Wood-nymph, whostood on the boulder at the top of the mountain. The cow walked aroundthe rock and then turned toward the forest without any of the wildbeasts touching her. In the same way all the cattle walked unmolestedpast the wild beasts. 

"As the creatures filed past, the dean saw the Wood-nymph lower her pinetorch over one and another of them. 

"Every time this occurred the beasts of prey broke into loud, exultantroars--particularly when it was lowered over a cow or some other largecreature. The animal that saw the torch turning toward it uttered apiercing shriek, as if it had received a knife thrust in its flesh, while the entire herd to which it belonged bellowed their lamentations. 

"Then the dean began to comprehend the meaning of what he saw. Surely hehad heard that the animals in Delsbo assembled on Black's Ridge everyNew Year's Eve, that the Wood-nymph might mark out which among the tamebeasts would that year be prey for the wild beasts. The dean pitied thepoor creatures that were at the mercy of savage beasts, when in realitythey should have no master but man. 

"The leading herd had only just left when another bell tinkled, and thecattle from another farm tramped to the mountain top. These came in thesame order as the first and marched past the Wood-nymph, who stoodthere, stern and solemn, indicating animal after animal for death. 

"Herd upon herd followed, without a break in the line of procession. Some were so small that they included only one cow and a few sheep;others consisted of only a pair of goats. It was apparent that thesewere from very humble homes, but they too were compelled to pass inreview. 

"The dean thought of the Delsbo farmers, who had so much love for theirbeasts. 'Did they but know of it, surely they would not allow arepetition of this!' he thought. 'They would risk their own lives ratherthan let their cattle wander amongst bears and wolves, to be doomed bythe Wood-nymph!'

"The last herd to appear was the one from the rectory farm. The deanheard the sound of the familiar bell a long way off. The horse, too, must have heard it, for he began to shake in every limb, and was bathedin sweat. 

"'So it is your turn now to pass before the Wood-nymph to receive yoursentence, ' the dean said to the horse. 'Don't be afraid! Now I know whyyou brought me here, and I shall not leave you. '

"The fine cattle from the parsonage farm emerged from the forest andmarched to the Wood-nymph and the wild beasts. Last in the line was thehorse that had brought his master to Black's Ridge. The dean did notleave the saddle, but let the animal take him to the Wood-nymph. 

"He had neither knife nor gun for his defence, but he had taken out thePrayer-book and sat pressing it to his heart as he exposed himself tobattle against evil. 

"At first it appeared as if none had observed him. The dean's cattlefiled past the Wood-nymph in the same order as the others had done. Shedid not wave the torch toward any of these, but as soon as theintelligent horse stepped forward, she made a movement to mark him fordeath. 

"Instantly the dean held up the Prayer-book, and the torchlight fellupon the cross on its cover. The Wood-nymph uttered a loud, shrill cryand let the torch drop from her hand. 

"Immediately the flame was extinguished. In the sudden transition fromlight to darkness the dean saw nothing, nor did he hear anything. Abouthim reigned the profound stillness of a wilderness in winter. 

"Then the dark clouds parted, and through the opening stepped the fullround moon to shed its light upon the ground. The dean saw that he andthe horse were alone on the summit of Black's Ridge. Not one of the manywild beasts was there. The ground had not been trampled by the herdsthat had passed over it; but the dean himself sat with his Prayer-bookbefore him, while the horse under him stood trembling and foaming. 

"By the time the dean reached home he no longer knew whether or not ithad been a dream, a vision, or reality--this that he had seen; but hetook it as a warning to him to remember the poor creatures who were atthe mercy of wild beasts. He preached so powerfully to the Delsbopeasants that in his day all the wolves and bears were exterminated fromthat section of the country, although they may have returned since histime. "

Here Bernhard ended his story. He received praise from all sides and itseemed to be a foregone conclusion that he would get the prize. Themajority thought it almost a pity that Clement had to compete with him. 

But Clement, undaunted, began:

"One day, while I was living at Skansen, just outside of Stockholm, andlonging for home--" Then he told about the tiny midget he had ransomedso that he would not have to be confined in a cage, to be stared at byall the people. He told, also, that no sooner had he performed this actof mercy than he was rewarded for it. He talked and talked, and theastonishment of his hearers grew greater and greater; but when he cameto the royal lackey and the beautiful book, all the dairymaids droppedtheir needle-work and sat staring at Clement in open-eyed wonder at hismarvellous experiences. 

As soon as Clement had finished, the eldest of the dairymaids announcedthat he should have the muffler. 

"Bernhard related only things that happened to another, but Clement hashimself been the hero of a true story, which I consider far moreimportant. "

In this all concurred. They regarded Clement with very different eyesafter hearing that he had talked with the King, and the little fiddlerwas afraid to show how proud he felt. But at the very height of hiselation some one asked him what had become of the midget. 

"I had no time to set out the blue bowl for him myself, " said Clement, "so I asked the old Laplander to do it. What has become of him sincethen I don't know. "

No sooner had he spoken than a little pine cone came along and struckhim on the nose. It did not drop from a tree, and none of the peasantshad thrown it. It was simply impossible to tell whence it had come. 

"Aha, Clement!" winked the dairymaid, "it appears as if the tiny folkwere listening to us. You should not have left it to another to set outthat blue bowl!"

IN MEDELPAD

_Friday, June seventeenth_. 

The boy and the eagle were out bright and early the next morning. Gorgohoped that he would get far up into West Bothnia that day. As luck wouldhave it, he heard the boy remark to himself that in a country like theone through which they were now travelling it must be impossible forpeople to live. 

The land which spread below them was Southern Medelpad. When the eagleheard the boy's remark, he replied:

"Up here they have forests for fields. "

The boy thought of the contrast between the light, golden-rye fieldswith their delicate blades that spring up in one summer, and the darkspruce forest with its solid trees which took many years to ripen forharvest. 

"One who has to get his livelihood from such a field must have a deal ofpatience!" he observed. 

Nothing more was said until they came to a place where the forest hadbeen cleared, and the ground was covered with stumps and lopped-offbranches. As they flew over this ground, the eagle heard the boy mutterto himself that it was a mighty ugly and poverty-stricken place. 

"This field was cleared last winter, " said the eagle. 

The boy thought of the harvesters at home, who rode on their reapingmachines on fine summer mornings, and in a short time mowed a largefield. But the forest field was harvested in winter. The lumbermen wentout in the wilderness when the snow was deep, and the cold most severe. It was tedious work to fell even one tree, and to hew down a forest suchas this they must have been out in the open many weeks. 

"They have to be hardy men to mow a field of this kind, " he said. 

When the eagle had taken two more wing strokes, they sighted a log cabinat the edge of the clearing. It had no windows and only two loose boardsfor a door. The roof had been covered with bark and twigs, but now itwas gaping, and the boy could see that inside the cabin there were onlya few big stones to serve as a fireplace, and two board benches. Whenthey were above the cabin the eagle suspected that the boy was wonderingwho could have lived in such a wretched hut as that. 

"The reapers who mowed the forest field lived there, " the eagle said. 

The boy remembered how the reapers in his home had returned from theirday's work, cheerful and happy, and how the best his mother had in thelarder was always spread for them; while here, after the arduous work ofthe day, they must rest on hard benches in a cabin that was worse thanan outhouse. And what they had to eat he could not imagine. 

"I wonder if there are any harvest festivals for these labourers?" hequestioned. 

A little farther on they saw below them a wretchedly bad road windingthrough the forest. It was narrow and zigzag, hilly and stony, and cutup by brooks in many places. As they flew over it the eagle knew thatthe boy was wondering what was carted over a road like that. 

"Over this road the harvest was conveyed to the stack, " the eagle said. 

The boy recalled what fun they had at home when the harvest wagonsdrawn by two sturdy horses, carried the grain from the field. The manwho drove sat proudly on top of the load; the horses danced and prickedup their ears, while the village children, who were allowed to climbupon the sheaves, sat there laughing and shrieking, half-pleased, half-frightened. But here the great logs were drawn up and down steephills; here the poor horses must be worked to their limit, and thedriver must often be in peril. "I'm afraid there has been very littlecheer along this road, " the boy observed. 

The eagle flew on with powerful wing strokes, and soon they came to ariver bank covered with logs, chips, and bark. The eagle perceived thatthe boy wondered why it looked so littered up down there. 

"Here the harvest has been stacked, " the eagle told him. 

The boy thought of how the grain stacks in his part of the country werepiled up close to the farms, as if they were their greatest ornaments, while here the harvest was borne to a desolate river strand, and leftthere. 

"I wonder if any one out in this wilderness counts his stacks, andcompares them with his neighbour's?" he said. 

A little later they came to Ljungen, a river which glides through abroad valley. Immediately everything was so changed that they might wellthink they had come to another country. The dark spruce forest hadstopped on the inclines above the valley, and the slopes were clad inlight-stemmed birches and aspens. The valley was so broad that in manyplaces the river widened into lakes. Along the shores lay a largeflourishing town. 

As they soared above the valley the eagle realized that the boy waswondering if the fields and meadows here could provide a livelihood forso many people. 

"Here live the reapers who mow the forest fields, " the eagle said. 

The boy was thinking of the lowly cabins and the hedged-in farms down inSkåne when he exclaimed:

"Why, here the peasants live in real manors. It looks as if it might beworth one's while to work in the forest!"

The eagle had intended to travel straight north, but when he had flownout over the river he understood that the boy wondered who handled thetimber after it was stacked on the river bank. 

The boy recollected how careful they had been at home never to let agrain be wasted, while here were great rafts of logs floating down theriver, uncared for. He could not believe that more than half of the logsever reached their destination. Many were floating in midstream, and forthem all went smoothly; others moved close to the shore, bumping againstpoints of land, and some were left behind in the still waters of thecreeks. On the lakes there were so many logs that they covered theentire surface of the water. These appeared to be lodged for anindefinite period. At the bridges they stuck; in the falls they werebunched, then they were pyramided and broken in two; afterward, in therapids, they were blocked by the stones and massed into great heaps. 

"I wonder how long it takes for the logs to get to the mill?" said theboy. 

The eagle continued his slow flight down River Ljungen. Over many placeshe paused in the air on outspread wings, that the boy might see how thiskind of harvest work was done. 

Presently they came to a place where the loggers were at work. The eaglemarked that the boy wondered what they were doing. 

"They are the ones who take care of all the belated harvest, " the eaglesaid. 

The boy remembered the perfect ease with which his people at home haddriven their grain to the mill. Here the men ran alongside the shoreswith long boat-hooks, and with toil and effort urged the logs along. They waded out in the river and were soaked from top to toe. They jumpedfrom stone to stone far out into the rapids, and they tramped on therolling log heaps as calmly as though they were on flat ground. Theywere daring and resolute men. 

"As I watch this, I'm reminded of the iron-moulders in the miningdistricts, who juggle with fire as if it were perfectly harmless, "remarked the boy. "These loggers play with water as if they were itsmasters. They seem to have subjugated it so that it dare not harm them. "

Gradually they neared the mouth of the river, and Bothnia Bay was beyondthem. Gorgo flew no farther straight ahead, but went northward along thecoast. Before they had travelled very far they saw a lumber camp aslarge as a small city. While the eagle circled back and forth above it, he heard the boy remark that this place looked interesting. 

"Here you have the great lumber camp called Svartvik, " the eagle said. 

The boy thought of the mill at home, which stood peacefully embedded infoliage, and moved its wings very slowly. This mill, where they grindthe forest harvest, stood on the water. 

The mill pond was crowded with logs. One by one the helpers seized themwith their cant-hooks, crowded them into the chutes and hurried themalong to the whirling saws. What happened to the logs inside, the boycould not see, but he heard loud buzzing and roaring, and from the otherend of the house small cars ran out, loaded with white planks. The carsran on shining tracks down to the lumber yard, where the planks werepiled in rows, forming streets--like blocks of houses in a city. In oneplace they were building new piles; in another they were pulling downold ones. These were carried aboard two large vessels which lay waitingfor cargo. The place was alive with workmen, and in the woods, back ofthe yard, they had their homes. 

"They'll soon manage to saw up all the forests in Medelpad the way theywork here, " said the boy. 

The eagle moved his wings just a little, and carried the boy aboveanother large camp, very much like the first, with the mill, yard, wharf, and the homes of the workmen. 

"This is called Kukikenborg, " the eagle said. 

He flapped his wings slowly, flew past two big lumber camps, andapproached a large city. When the eagle heard the boy ask the name ofit, he cried; "This is Sundsvall, the manor of the lumber districts. "

The boy remembered the cities of Skåne, which looked so old and gray andsolemn; while here in the bleak North the city of Sundsvall faced abeautiful bay, and looked young and happy and beaming. There wassomething odd about the city when one saw it from above, for in themiddle stood a cluster of tall stone structures which looked so imposingthat their match was hardly to be found in Stockholm. Around the stonebuildings there was a large open space, then came a wreath of framehouses which looked pretty and cosy in their little gardens; but theyseemed to be conscious of the fact that they were very much poorer thanthe stone houses, and dared not venture into their neighbourhood. 

"This must be both a wealthy and powerful city, " remarked the boy. "Canit be possible that the poor forest soil is the source of all this?"

The eagle flapped his wings again, and went over to Aln Island, whichlies opposite Sundsvall. The boy was greatly surprised to see all thesawmills that decked the shores. On Aln Island they stood, one nextanother, and on the mainland opposite were mill upon mill, lumber yardupon lumber yard. He counted forty, at least, but believed there weremany more. 

"How wonderful it all looks from up here!" he marvelled. "So much lifeand activity I have not seen in any place save this on the whole trip. It is a great country that we have! Wherever I go, there is alwayssomething new for people to live upon. "

A MORNING IN ÅNGERMANLAND

THE BREAD

_Saturday, June eighteenth_. 

Next morning, when the eagle had flown some distance into Ångermanland, he remarked that to-day he was the one who was hungry, and must findsomething to eat! He set the boy down in an enormous pine on a highmountain ridge, and away he flew. 

The boy found a comfortable seat in a cleft branch from which he couldlook down over Ångermanland. It was a glorious morning! The sunshinegilded the treetops; a soft breeze played in the pine needles; thesweetest fragrance was wafted through the forest; a beautiful landscapespread before him; and the boy himself was happy and care-free. He feltthat no one could be better off. 

He had a perfect outlook in every direction. The country west of him wasall peaks and table-land, and the farther away they were, the higher andwilder they looked. To the east there were also many peaks, but thesesank lower and lower toward the sea, where the land became perfectlyflat. Everywhere he saw shining rivers and brooks which were having atroublesome journey with rapids and falls so long as they ran betweenmountains, but spread out clear and broad as they neared the shore ofthe coast. Bothnia Bay was dotted with islands and notched with points, but farther out was open, blue water, like a summer sky. 

When the boy had had enough of the landscape he unloosed his knapsack, took out a morsel of fine white bread, and began to eat. 

"I don't think I've ever tasted such good bread, " said he. "And how muchI have left! There's enough to last me for a couple of days. " As hemunched he thought of how he had come by the bread. 

"It must be because I got it in such a nice way that it tastes so goodto me, " he said. 

The golden eagle had left Medelpad the evening before. He had hardlycrossed the border into Ångermanland when the boy caught a glimpse of afertile valley and a river, which surpassed anything of the kind he hadseen before. 

As the boy glanced down at the rich valley, he complained of feelinghungry. He had had no food for two whole days, he said, and now he wasfamished. Gorgo did not wish to have it said that the boy had faredworse in his company than when he travelled with the wild geese, so heslackened his speed. 

"Why haven't you spoken of this before?" he asked. "You shall have allthe food you want. There's no need of your starving when you have aneagle for a travelling companion. "

Just then the eagle sighted a farmer who was sowing a field near theriver strand. The man carried the seeds in a basket suspended from hisneck, and each time that it was emptied he refilled it from a seed sackwhich stood at the end of the furrow. The eagle reasoned it out that thesack must be filled with the best food that the boy could wish for, sohe darted toward it. But before the bird could get there a terribleclamour arose about him. Sparrows, crows, and swallows came rushing upwith wild shrieks, thinking that the eagle meant to swoop down upon somebird. 

"Away, away, robber! Away, away, bird-killer!" they cried. They madesuch a racket that it attracted the farmer, who came running, so thatGorgo had to flee, and the boy got no seed. 

The small birds behaved in the most extraordinary manner. Not only didthey force the eagle to flee, they pursued him a long distance down thevalley, and everywhere the people heard their cries. Women came out andclapped their hands so that it sounded like a volley of musketry, andthe men rushed out with rifles. 

The same thing was repeated every time the eagle swept toward theground. The boy abandoned the hope that the eagle could procure any foodfor him. It had never occurred to him before that Gorgo was so muchhated. He almost pitied him. 

In a little while they came to a homestead where the housewife had justbeen baking. She had set a platter of sugared buns in the back yard tocool and was standing beside it, watching, so that the cat and dogshould not steal the buns. 

The eagle circled down to the yard, but dared not alight right under theeyes of the peasant woman. He flew up and down, irresolute; twice hecame down as far as the chimney, then rose again. 

The peasant woman noticed the eagle. She raised her head and followedhim with her glance. 

"How peculiarly he acts!" she remarked. "I believe he wants one of mybuns. "

She was a beautiful woman, tall and fair, with a cheery, opencountenance. Laughing heartily, she took a bun from the platter, andheld it above her head. 

"If you want it, come and take it!" she challenged. 

While the eagle did not understand her language, he knew at once thatshe was offering him the bun. With lightning speed, he swooped to thebread, snatched it, and flew toward the heights. 

When the boy saw the eagle snatch the bread he wept for joy--not becausehe would escape suffering hunger for a few days, but because he wastouched by the peasant woman's sharing her bread with a savage bird ofprey. 

Where he now sat on the pine branch he could recall at will the tall, fair woman as she stood in the yard and held up the bread. 

She must have known that the large bird was a golden eagle--a plunderer, who was usually welcomed with loud shots; doubtless she had also seenthe queer changeling he bore on his back. But she had not thought ofwhat they were. As soon as she understood that they were hungry, sheshared her good bread with them. 

"If I ever become human again, " thought the boy, "I shall look up thepretty woman who lives near the great river, and thank her for herkindness to us. "

THE FOREST FIRE

While the boy was still at his breakfast he smelled a faint odour ofsmoke coming from the north. He turned and saw a tiny spiral, white as amist, rise from a forest ridge--not from the one nearest him, but fromthe one beyond it. It looked strange to see smoke in the wild forest, but it might be that a mountain stock farm lay over yonder, and thewomen were boiling their morning coffee. 

It was remarkable the way that smoke increased and spread! It could notcome from a ranch, but perhaps there were charcoal kilns in the forest. 

The smoke increased every moment. Now it curled over the whole mountaintop. It was not possible that so much smoke could come from a charcoalkiln. There must be a conflagration of some sort, for many birds flewover to the nearest ridge. Hawks, grouse, and other birds, who were sosmall that it was impossible to recognize them at such a distance, fledfrom the fire. 

The tiny white spiral of smoke grew to a thick white cloud which rolledover the edge of the ridge and sank toward the valley. Sparks and flakesof soot shot up from the clouds, and here and there one could see a redflame in the smoke. A big fire was raging over there, but what wasburning? Surely there was no large farm hidden in the forest. 

The source of such a fire must be more than a farm. Now the smoke camenot only from the ridge, but from the valley below it, which the boycould not see, because the next ridge obstructed his view. Great cloudsof smoke ascended; the forest itself was burning!

It was difficult for him to grasp the idea that the fresh, green pinescould burn. If it really were the forest that was burning, perhaps thefire might spread all the way over to him. It seemed improbable; but hewished the eagle would soon return. It would be best to be away fromthis. The mere smell of the smoke which he drew in with every breath wasa torture. 

All at once he heard a terrible crackling and sputtering. It came fromthe ridge nearest him. There, on the highest point, stood a tall pinelike the one in which he sat. A moment before it had been a gorgeous redin the morning light. Now all the needles flashed, and the pine caughtfire. Never before had it looked so beautiful! But this was the lasttime it could exhibit any beauty, for the pine was the first tree on theridge to burn. It was impossible to tell how the flames had reached it. Had the fire flown on red wings, or crawled along the ground like asnake? It was not easy to say, but there it was at all events. The greatpine burned like a birch stem. 

Ah, look! Now smoke curled up in many places on the ridge. The forestfire was both bird and snake. It could fly in the air over widestretches, or steal along the ground. The whole ridge was ablaze!

There was a hasty flight of birds that circled up through the smoke likebig flakes of soot. They flew across the valley and came to the ridgewhere the boy sat. A horned owl perched beside him, and on a branch justabove him a hen hawk alighted. These would have been dangerousneighbours at any other time, but now they did not even glance in hisdirection--only stared at the fire. Probably they could not make outwhat was wrong with the forest. A marten ran up the pine to the tip of abranch, and looked at the burning heights. Close beside the marten sat asquirrel, but they did not appear to notice each other. 

Now the fire came rushing down the slope, hissing and roaring like atornado. Through the smoke one could see the flames dart from tree totree. Before a branch caught fire it was first enveloped in a thin veilof smoke, then all the needles grew red at one time, and it began tocrackle and blaze. 

In the glen below ran a little brook, bordered by elms and smallbirches. It appeared as if the flames would halt there. Leafy trees arenot so ready to take fire as fir trees. The fire did pause as if beforea gate that could stop it. It glowed and crackled and tried to leapacross the brook to the pine woods on the other side, but could notreach them. 

For a short time the fire was thus restrained, then it shot a longflame over to the large, dry pine that stood on the slope, and this wassoon ablaze. The fire had crossed the brook! The heat was so intensethat every tree on the mountain was ready to burn. With the roar andrush of the maddest storm and the wildest torrent the forest fire flewover to the ridge. 

Then the hawk and the owl rose and the marten dashed down the tree. In afew seconds more the fire would reach the top of the pine, and the boy, too, would have to be moving. It was not easy to slide down the long, straight pine trunk. He took as firm a hold of it as he could, and slidin long stretches between the knotty branches; finally he tumbledheadlong to the ground. He had no time to find out if he was hurt--onlyto hurry away. The fire raced down the pine like a raging tempest; theground under his feet was hot and smouldering. On either side of him rana lynx and an adder, and right beside the snake fluttered a mothergrouse who was hurrying along with her little downy chicks. 

When the refugees descended the mountain to the glen they met peoplefighting the fire. They had been there for some time, but the boy hadbeen gazing so intently in the direction of the fire that he had notnoticed them before. 

In this glen there was a brook, bordered by a row of leaf trees, andback of these trees the people worked. They felled the fir trees nearestthe elms, dipped water from the brook and poured it over the ground, washing away heather and myrtle to prevent the fire from stealing up tothe birch brush. 

They, too, thought only of the fire which was now rushing toward them. The fleeing animals ran in and out among the men's feet, withoutattracting attention. No one struck at the adder or tried to catch themother grouse as she ran back and forth with her little peepingbirdlings. They did not even bother about Thumbietot. In their handsthey held great, charred pine branches which had dropped into the brook, and it appeared as if they intended to challenge the fire with theseweapons. There were not many men, and it was strange to see them standthere, ready to fight, when all other living creatures were fleeing. 

As the fire came roaring and rushing down the slope with its intolerableheat and suffocating smoke, ready to hurl itself over brook andleaf-tree wall in order to reach the opposite shore without having topause, the people drew back at first as if unable to withstand it; butthey did not flee far before they turned back. 

The conflagration raged with savage force, sparks poured like a rain offire over the leaf trees, and long tongues of flame shot hissingly outfrom the smoke, as if the forest on the other side were sucking them in. 

But the leaf-tree wall was an obstruction behind which the men worked. When the ground began to smoulder they brought water in their vesselsand dampened it. When a tree became wreathed in smoke they felled it atonce, threw it down and put out the flames. Where the fire crept alongthe heather, they beat it with the wet pine branches and smothered it. 

The smoke was so dense that it enveloped everything. One could notpossibly see how the battle was going, but it was easy enough tounderstand that it was a hard fight, and that several times the firecame near penetrating farther. 

But think! After a while the loud roar of the flames decreased, and thesmoke cleared. By that time the leaf trees had lost all their foliage, the ground under them was charred, the faces of the men were blackenedby smoke and dripping with sweat; but the forest fire was conquered. Ithad ceased to flame up. Soft white smoke crept along the ground, andfrom it peeped out a lot of black stumps. This was all there was left ofthe beautiful forest!

The boy scrambled up on a rock, so that he might see how the fire hadbeen quenched. But now that the forest was saved, his peril began. Theowl and the hawk simultaneously turned their eyes toward him. Just thenhe heard a familiar voice calling to him. 

Gorgo, the golden eagle, came sweeping through the forest, and soon theboy was soaring among the clouds--rescued from every peril. 

WESTBOTTOM AND LAPLAND

THE FIVE SCOUTS

Once, at Skansen, the boy had sat under the steps at Bollnäs cottage andhad overheard Clement Larsson and the old Laplander talk about Norrland. Both agreed that it was the most beautiful part of Sweden. Clementthought that the southern part was the best, while the Laplanderfavoured the northern part. 

As they argued, it became plain that Clement had never been farthernorth than Härnösand. The Laplander laughed at him for speaking withsuch assurance of places that he had never seen. 

"I think I shall have to tell you a story, Clement, to give you someidea of Lapland, since you have not seen it, " volunteered the Laplander. 

"It shall not be said of me that I refuse to listen to a story, "retorted Clement, and the old Laplander began:

"It once happened that the birds who lived down in Sweden, south of thegreat Saméland, thought that they were overcrowded there and suggestedmoving northward. 

"They came together to consider the matter. The young and eager birdswished to start at once, but the older and wiser ones passed aresolution to send scouts to explore the new country. 

"'Let each of the five great bird families send out a scout, ' said theold and wise birds, 'to learn if there is room for us all up there--foodand hiding places. '

"Five intelligent and capable birds were immediately appointed by thefive great bird families. 

"The forest birds selected a grouse, the field birds a lark, the seabirds a gull, the fresh-water birds a loon, and the cliff birds a snowsparrow. 

"When the five chosen ones were ready to start, the grouse, who was thelargest and most commanding, said:

"'There are great stretches of land ahead. If we travel together, itwill be long before we cover all the territory that we must explore. If, on the other hand, we travel singly--each one exploring his specialportion of the country--the whole business can be accomplished in a fewdays. '

"The other scouts thought the suggestion a good one, and agreed to actupon it. 

"It was decided that the grouse should explore the midlands. The larkwas to travel to the eastward, the sea gull still farther east, wherethe land bordered on the sea, while the loon should fly over theterritory west of the midlands, and the snow sparrow to the extremewest. 

"In accordance with this plan, the five birds flew over the wholeNorthland. Then they turned back and told the assembly of birds whatthey had discovered. 

"The gull, who had travelled along the sea-coast, spoke first. 

"'The North is a fine country, ' he said. 'The sounds are full of fish, and there are points and islands without number. Most of these areuninhabited, and the birds will find plenty of room there. The humansdo a little fishing and sailing in the sounds, but not enough to disturbthe birds. If the sea birds follow my advice, they will move northimmediately. '

"When the gull had finished, the lark, who had explored the land backfrom the coast, spoke:

"'I don't know what the gull means by his islands and points, ' said thelark. I have travelled only over great fields and flowery meadows. Ihave never before seen a country crossed by some large streams. Theirshores are dotted with homesteads, and at the mouth of the rivers arecities; but for the most part the country is very desolate. If the fieldbirds follow my advice, they will move north immediately. '

"After the lark came the grouse, who had flown over the midlands. 

"'I know neither what the lark means with his meadows nor the gull withhis islands and points, ' said he. 'I have seen only pine forests on thiswhole trip. There are also many rushing streams and great stretches ofmoss-grown swamp land; but all that is not river or swamp is forest. Ifthe forest birds follow my advice, they will move north immediately. '

"After the grouse came the loon, who had explored the borderland to thewest. 

"I don't know what the grouse means by his forests, nor do I know wherethe eyes of the lark and the gull could have been, ' remarked the loon. There's hardly any land up there--only big lakes. Between beautifulshores glisten clear, blue mountain lakes, which pour into roaringwater-falls. If the fresh-water birds follow my advice, they will movenorth immediately. '

"The last speaker was the snow sparrow, who had flown along the westernboundary. 

"'I don't know what the loon means by his lakes, nor do I know whatcountries the grouse, the lark, and the gull can have seen, ' he said. 'Ifound one vast mountainous region up north. I didn't run across anyfields or any pine forests, but peak after peak and highlands. I haveseen ice fields and snow and mountain brooks, with water as white asmilk. No farmers nor cattle nor homesteads have I seen, but only Lappsand reindeer and huts met my eyes. If the cliff birds follow my advice, they will move north immediately. '

"When the five scouts had presented their reports to the assembly, theybegan to call one another liars, and were ready to fly at each other toprove the truth of their arguments. 

"But the old and wise birds who had sent them out, listened to theiraccounts with joy, and calmed their fighting propensities. 

"'You mustn't quarrel among yourselves, ' they said. 'We understand fromyour reports that up north there are large mountain tracts, a big lakeregion, great forest lands, a wide plain, and a big group of islands. This is more than we have expected--more than many a mighty kingdom canboast within its borders. '"

THE MOVING LANDSCAPE

_Saturday, June eighteenth_. 

The boy had been reminded of the old Laplander's story because hehimself was now travelling over the country of which he had spoken. Theeagle told him that the expanse of coast which spread beneath them wasWestbottom, and that the blue ridges far to the west were in Lapland. 

Only to be once more seated comfortably on Gorgo's back, after all thathe had suffered during the forest fire, was a pleasure. Besides, theywere having a fine trip. The flight was so easy that at times it seemedas if they were standing still in the air. The eagle beat and beat hiswings, without appearing to move from the spot; on the other hand, everything under them seemed in motion. The whole earth and all thingson it moved slowly southward. The forests, the fields, the fences, therivers, the cities, the islands, the sawmills--all were on the march. The boy wondered whither they were bound. Had they grown tired ofstanding so far north, and wished to move toward the south?

Amid all the objects in motion there was only one that stood still: thatwas a railway train. It stood directly under them, for it was with thetrain as with Gorgo--it could not move from the spot. The locomotivesent forth smoke and sparks. The clatter of the wheels could be heardall the way up to the boy, but the train did not seem to move. Theforests rushed by; the flag station rushed by; fences and telegraphpoles rushed by; but the train stood still. A broad river with a longbridge came toward it, but the river and the bridge glided along underthe train with perfect ease. Finally a railway station appeared. Thestation master stood on the platform with his red flag, and moved slowlytoward the train. 

When he waved his little flag, the locomotive belched even darker smokecurls than before, and whistled mournfully because it had to standstill. All of a sudden it began to move toward the south, likeeverything else. 

The boy saw all the coach doors open and the passengers step out whileboth cars and people were moving southward. 

He glanced away from the earth and tried to look straight ahead. Staringat the queer railway train had made him dizzy; but after he had gazedfor a moment at a little white cloud, he was tired of that and lookeddown again--thinking all the while that the eagle and himself were quitestill and that everything else was travelling on south. Fancy! Supposethe grain field just then running along under him--which must have beennewly sown for he had seen a green blade on it--were to travel all theway down to Skåne where the rye was in full bloom at this season!

Up here the pine forests were different: the trees were bare, thebranches short and the needles were almost black. Many trees were baldat the top and looked sickly. If a forest like that were to journey downto Kolmården and see a real forest, how inferior it would feel!

The gardens which he now saw had some pretty bushes, but no fruit treesor lindens or chestnut trees--only mountain ash and birch. There weresome vegetable beds, but they were not as yet hoed or planted. 

"If such an apology for a garden were to come trailing into Sörmland, the province of gardens, wouldn't it think itself a poor wilderness bycomparison?"

Imagine an immense plain like the one now gliding beneath him, comingunder the very eyes of the poor Småland peasants! They would hurry awayfrom their meagre garden plots and stony fields, to begin plowing andsowing. 

There was one thing, however, of which this Northland had more thanother lands, and that was light. Night must have set in, for the cranesstood sleeping on the morass; but it was as light as day. The sun hadnot travelled southward, like every other thing. Instead, it had gone sofar north that it shone in the boy's face. To all appearance, it had nonotion of setting that night. 

If this light and this sun were only shining on West Vemmenhög! It wouldsuit the boy's father and mother to a dot to have a working day thatlasted twenty-four hours. 

_Sunday, June nineteenth_. 

The boy raised his head and looked around, perfectly bewildered. It wasmighty queer! Here he lay sleeping in some place where he had not beenbefore. No, he had never seen this glen nor the mountains round about;and never had he noticed such puny and shrunken birches as those underwhich he now lay. 

Where was the eagle? The boy could see no sign of him. Gorgo must havedeserted him. Well, here was another adventure!

The boy lay down again, closed his eyes, and tried to recall thecircumstances under which he had dropped to sleep. 

He remembered that as long as he was travelling over Westbottom he hadfancied that the eagle and he were at a standstill in the air, and thatthe land under them was moving southward. As the eagle turned northwest, the wind had come from that side, and again he had felt a current ofair, so that the land below had stopped moving and he had noticed thatthe eagle was bearing him onward with terrific speed. 

"Now we are flying into Lapland, " Gorgo had said, and the boy had bentforward, so that he might see the country of which he had heard so much. 

But he had felt rather disappointed at not seeing anything but greattracts of forest land and wide marshes. Forest followed marsh and marshfollowed forest. The monotony of the whole finally made him so sleepythat he had nearly dropped to the ground. 

He said to the eagle that he could not stay on his back another minute, but must sleep awhile. Gorgo had promptly swooped to the ground, wherethe boy had dropped down on a moss tuft. Then Gorgo put a talon aroundhim and soared into the air with him again. 

"Go to sleep, Thumbietot!" he cried. "The sunshine keeps me awake and Iwant to continue the journey. "

Although the boy hung in this uncomfortable position, he actually dozedand dreamed. 

He dreamed that he was on a broad road in southern Sweden, hurryingalong as fast as his little legs could carry him. He was not alone, manywayfarers were tramping in the same direction. Close beside him marchedgrain-filled rye blades, blossoming corn flowers, and yellow daisies. Heavily laden apple trees went puffing along, followed by vine-coveredbean stalks, big clusters of white daisies, and masses of berry bushes. Tall beeches and oaks and lindens strolled leisurely in the middle ofthe road, their branches swaying, and they stepped aside for none. Between the boy's tiny feet darted the little flowers--wild strawberryblossoms, white anemones, clover, and forget-me-nots. At first hethought that only the vegetable family was on the march, but presentlyhe saw that animals and people accompanied them. The insects werebuzzing around advancing bushes, the fishes were swimming in movingditches, the birds were singing in strolling trees. Both tame and wildbeasts were racing, and amongst all this people moved along--some withspades and scythes, others with axes, and others, again, with fishingnets. 

The procession marched with gladness and gayety, and he did not wonderat that when he saw who was leading it. It was nothing less than the Sunitself that rolled on like a great shining head with hair of many-huedrays and a countenance beaming with merriment and kindliness!

"Forward, march!" it kept calling out. "None need feel anxious whilst Iam here. Forward, march!"

"I wonder where the Sun wants to take us to?" remarked the boy. A ryeblade that walked beside him heard him, and immediately answered:

"He wants to take us up to Lapland to fight the Ice Witch. "

Presently the boy noticed that some of the travellers hesitated, slowedup, and finally stood quite still. He saw that the tall beech treestopped, and that the roebuck and the wheat blade tarried by thewayside, likewise the blackberry bush, the little yellow buttercup, thechestnut tree, and the grouse. 

He glanced about him and tried to reason out why so many stopped. Thenhe discovered that they were no longer in southern Sweden. The march hadbeen so rapid that they were already in Svealand. 

Up there the oak began to move more cautiously. It paused awhile toconsider, took a few faltering steps, then came to a standstill. 

"Why doesn't the oak come along?" asked the boy. 

"It's afraid of the Ice Witch, " said a fair young birch that trippedalong so boldly and cheerfully that it was a joy to watch it. The crowdhurried on as before. In a short time they were in Norrland, and now itmattered not how much the Sun cried and coaxed--the apple tree stopped, the cherry tree stopped, the rye blade stopped!

The boy turned to them and asked:

"Why don't you come along? Why do you desert the Sun?"

"We dare not! We're afraid of the Ice Witch, who lives in Lapland, " theyanswered. 

The boy comprehended that they were far north, as the procession grewthinner and thinner. The rye blade, the barley, the wild strawberry, theblueberry bush, the pea stalk, the currant bush had come along as far asthis. The elk and the domestic cow had been walking side by side, butnow they stopped. The Sun no doubt would have been almost deserted ifnew followers had not happened along. Osier bushes and a lot of brushyvegetation joined the procession. Laps and reindeer, mountain owl andmountain fox and willow grouse followed. 

Then the boy heard something coming toward them. He saw great rivers andcreeks sweeping along with terrible force. 

"Why are they in such a hurry?" he asked. 

"They are running away from the Ice Witch, who lives up in themountains. "

All of a sudden the boy saw before him a high, dark, turreted wall. Instantly the Sun turned its beaming face toward this wall and floodedit with light. Then it became apparent that it was no wall, but the mostglorious mountains, which loomed up--one behind another. Their peakswere rose-coloured in the sunlight, their slopes azure and gold-tinted. 

"Onward, onward!" urged the Sun as it climbed the steep cliffs. "There'sno danger so long as I am with you. "

But half way up, the bold young birch deserted--also the sturdy pine andthe persistent spruce, and there, too, the Laplander, and the willowbrush deserted. At last, when the Sun reached the top, there was no onebut the little tot, Nils Holgersson, who had followed it. 

The Sun rolled into a cave, where the walls were bedecked with ice, andNils Holgersson wanted to follow, but farther than the opening of thecave he dared not venture, for in there he saw something dreadful. 

Far back in the cave sat an old witch with an ice body, hair of icicles, and a mantle of snow!

At her feet lay three black wolves, who rose and opened their jaws whenthe Sun approached. From the mouth of one came a piercing cold, from thesecond a blustering north wind, and from the third came impenetrabledarkness. 

"That must be the Ice Witch and her tribe, " thought the boy. 

He understood that now was the time for him to flee, but he was socurious to see the outcome of the meeting between the Sun and the IceWitch that he tarried. 

The Ice Witch did not move--only turned her hideous face toward the Sun. This continued for a short time. It appeared to the boy that the witchwas beginning to sigh and tremble. Her snow mantle fell, and the threeferocious wolves howled less savagely. 

Suddenly the Sun cried:

"Now my time is up!" and rolled out of the cave. 

Then the Ice Witch let loose her three wolves. Instantly the North Wind, Cold, and Darkness rushed from the cave and began to chase the Sun. 

"Drive him out! Drive him back!" shrieked the Ice Witch. "Chase him sofar that he can never come back! Teach him that Lapland is MINE!"

But Nils Holgersson felt so unhappy when he saw that the Sun was to bedriven from Lapland that he awakened with a cry. When he recovered hissenses, he found himself at the bottom of a ravine. 

But where was Gorgo? How was he to find out where he himself was?

He arose and looked all around him. Then he happened to glance upwardand saw a peculiar structure of pine twigs and branches that stood on acliff-ledge. 

"That must be one of those eagle nests that Gorgo--" But this was as faras he got. He tore off his cap, waved it in the air, and cheered. 

Now he understood where Gorgo had brought him. This was the very glenwhere the wild geese lived in summer, and just above it was the eagles'cliff. 

HE HAD ARRIVED!

He would meet Morten Goosey-Gander and Akka and all the other comradesin a few moments. Hurrah!

THE MEETING

All was still in the glen. The sun had not yet stepped above the cliffs, and Nils Holgersson knew that it was too early in the morning for thegeese to be awake. 

The boy walked along leisurely and searched for his friends. Before hehad gone very far, he paused with a smile, for he saw such a prettysight. A wild goose was sleeping in a neat little nest, and beside herstood her goosey-gander. He too, slept, but it was obvious that he hadstationed himself thus near her that he might be on hand in the possibleevent of danger. 

The boy went on without disturbing them and peeped into the willow brushthat covered the ground. It was not long before he spied another goosecouple. These were strangers, not of his flock, but he was so happy thathe began to hum--just because he had come across wild geese. 

He peeped into another bit of brushwood. There at last he saw two thatwere familiar. 

It was certainly Neljä that was nesting there, and the goosey-ganderwho stood beside her was surely Kolme. Why, of course! The boy had agood mind to awaken them, but he let them sleep on, and walked away. 

In the next brush he saw Viisi and Kuusi, and not far from them he foundYksi and Kaksi. All four were asleep, and the boy passed by withoutdisturbing them. As he approached the next brush, he thought he sawsomething white shimmering among the bushes, and the heart of himthumped with joy. Yes, it was as he expected. In there sat the daintyDunfin on an egg-filled nest. Beside her stood her white goosey-gander. Although he slept, it was easy to see how proud he was to watch over hiswife up here among the Lapland mountains. The boy did not care to wakenthe goosey-gander, so he walked on. 

He had to seek a long time before he came across any more wild geese. Finally, he saw on a little hillock something that resembled a small, gray moss tuft, and he knew that there was Akka from Kebnekaise. Shestood, wide awake, looking about as if she were keeping watch over thewhole glen. 

"Good morning, Mother Akka!" said the boy. "Please don't waken the othergeese yet awhile, for I wish to speak with you in private. "

The old leader-goose came rushing down the hill and up to the boy. 

First she seized hold of him and shook him, then she stroked him withher bill before she shook him again. But she did not say a word, sincehe asked her not to waken the others. 

Thumbietot kissed old Mother Akka on both cheeks, then he told her howhe had been carried off to Skansen and held captive there. 

"Now I must tell you that Smirre Fox, short of an ear, sat imprisoned inthe foxes' cage at Skansen, " said the boy. "Although he was very mean tous, I couldn't help feeling sorry for him. There were many other foxesin the cage; and they seemed quite contented there, but Smirre sat allthe while looking dejected, longing for liberty. 

"I made many good friends at Skansen, and I learned one day from theLapp dog that a man had come to Skansen to buy foxes. He was from someisland far out in the ocean. All the foxes had been exterminated there, and the rats were about to get the better of the inhabitants, so theywished the foxes back again. 

"As soon as I learned of this, I went to Smirre's cage and said to him:

"'To-morrow some men are coming here to get a pair of foxes. Don't hide, Smirre, but keep well in the foreground and see to it that you arechosen. Then you'll be free again. '

"He followed my suggestion, and now he is running at large on theisland. What say you to this, Mother Akka? If you had been in my place, would you not have done likewise?"

"You have acted in a way that makes me wish I had done that myself, "said the leader-goose proudly. 

"It's a relief to know that you approve, " said the boy. "Now there isone thing more I wish to ask you about:

"One day I happened to see Gorgo, the eagle--the one that fought withMorten Goosey-Gander--a prisoner at Skansen. He was in the eagles' cageand looked pitifully forlorn. I was thinking of filing down the wireroof over him and letting him out, but I also thought of his being adangerous robber and bird-eater, and wondered if I should be doing rightin letting loose such a plunderer, and if it were not better, perhaps, to let him stay where he was. What say you, Mother Akka? Was it rightto think thus?"

"No, it was not right!" retorted Akka. "Say what you will about theeagles, they are proud birds and greater lovers of freedom than allothers. It is not right to keep them in captivity. Do you know what Iwould suggest? This: that, as soon as you are well rested, we two makethe trip together to the big bird prison, and liberate Gorgo. "

"That is just the word I was expecting from you, Mother Akka, " returnedthe boy eagerly. 

"There are those who say that you no longer have any love in your heartfor the one you reared so tenderly, because he lives as eagles mustlive. But I know now that it isn't true. And now I want to see ifMorten Goosey-Gander is awake. 

"Meanwhile, if you wish to say a 'thank you' to the one who brought mehere to you, I think you'll find him up there on the cliff ledge, whereonce you found a helpless eaglet. "

OSA, THE GOOSE GIRL, AND LITTLE MATS

The year that Nils Holgersson travelled with the wild geese everybodywas talking about two little children, a boy and a girl, who trampedthrough the country. They were from Sunnerbo township, in Småland, andhad once lived with their parents and four brothers and sisters in alittle cabin on the heath. 

While the two children, Osa and Mats, were still small, a poor, homelesswoman came to their cabin one night and begged for shelter. Although theplace could hardly hold the family, she was taken in and the motherspread a bed for her on the floor. In the night she coughed so hard thatthe children fancied the house shook. By morning she was too ill tocontinue her wanderings. The children's father and mother were as kindto her as could be. They gave up their bed to her and slept on thefloor, while the father went to the doctor and brought her medicine. 

The first few days the sick woman behaved like a savage; she demandedconstant attention and never uttered a word of thanks. Later she becamemore subdued and finally begged to be carried out to the heath and leftthere to die. 

When her hosts would not hear of this, she told them that the last fewyears she had roamed about with a band of gipsies. She herself was notof gipsy blood, but was the daughter of a well-to-do farmer. She had runaway from home and gone with the nomads. She believed that a gipsy womanwho was angry at her had brought this sickness upon her. Nor was thatall: The gipsy woman had also cursed her, saying that all who took herunder their roof or were kind to her should suffer a like fate. Shebelieved this, and therefore begged them to cast her out of the houseand never to see her again. She did not want to bring misfortune downupon such good people. But the peasants refused to do her bidding. Itwas quite possible that they were alarmed, but they were not the kind offolk who could turn out a poor, sick person. 

Soon after that she died, and then along came the misfortunes. Before, there had never been anything but happiness in that cabin. Its inmateswere poor, yet not so very poor. The father was a maker of weavers'combs, and mother and children helped him with the work. Father made theframes, mother and the older children did the binding, while the smallerones planed the teeth and cut them out. They worked from morning untilnight, but the time passed pleasantly, especially when father talked ofthe days when he travelled about in foreign lands and sold weavers'combs. Father was so jolly that sometimes mother and the children wouldlaugh until their sides ached at his funny quips and jokes. 

The weeks following the death of the poor vagabond woman lingered in theminds of the children like a horrible nightmare. They knew not if thetime had been long or short, but they remembered that they were alwayshaving funerals at home. One after another they lost their brothers andsisters. At last it was very still and sad in the cabin. 

The mother kept up some measure of courage, but the father was not a bitlike himself. He could no longer work nor jest, but sat from morningtill night, his head buried in his hands, and only brooded. 

Once--that was after the third burial--the father had broken out intowild talk, which frightened the children. He said that he could notunderstand why such misfortunes should come upon them. They had done akindly thing in helping the sick woman. Could it be true, then, that theevil in this world was more powerful than the good?

The mother tried to reason with him, but she was unable to soothe him. 

A few days later the eldest was stricken. She had always been thefather's favourite, so when he realized that she, too, must go, he fledfrom all the misery. The mother never said anything, but she thought itwas best for him to be away, as she feared that he might lose hisreason. He had brooded too long over this one idea: that God had alloweda wicked person to bring about so much evil. 

After the father went away they became very poor. For awhile he sentthem money, but afterward things must have gone badly with him, for nomore came. 

The day of the eldest daughter's burial the mother closed the cabin andleft home with the two remaining children, Osa and Mats. She went downto Skåne to work in the beet fields, and found a place at the Jordbergasugar refinery. She was a good worker and had a cheerful and generousnature. Everybody liked her. Many were astonished because she could beso calm after all that she had passed through, but the mother was verystrong and patient. When any one spoke to her of her two sturdychildren, she only said: "I shall soon lose them also, " without a quaverin her voice or a tear in her eye. She had accustomed herself to expectnothing else. 

But it did not turn out as she feared. Instead, the sickness came uponherself. She had gone to Skane in the beginning of summer; before autumnshe was gone, and the children were left alone. 

While their mother was ill she had often said to the children they mustremember that she never regretted having let the sick woman stop withthem. It was not hard to die when one had done right, she said, for thenone could go with a clear conscience. 

Before the mother passed away, she tried to make some provision for herchildren. She asked the people with whom she lived to let them remain inthe room which she had occupied. If the children only had a shelter theywould not become a burden to any one. She knew that they could take careof themselves. 

Osa and Mats were allowed to keep the room on condition that they wouldtend the geese, as it was always hard to find children willing to dothat work. It turned out as the mother expected: they did maintainthemselves. The girl made candy, and the boy carved wooden toys, whichthey sold at the farm houses. They had a talent for trading and soonbegan buying eggs and butter from the farmers, which they sold to theworkers at the sugar refinery. Osa was the older, and, by the time shewas thirteen, she was as responsible as a grown woman. She was quiet andserious, while Mats was lively and talkative. His sister used to say tohim that he could outcackle the geese. 

When the children had been at Jordberga for two years, there was alecture given one evening at the schoolhouse. Evidently it was meant forgrown-ups, but the two Småland children were in the audience. They didnot regard themselves as children, and few persons thought of them assuch. The lecturer talked about the dread disease called the WhitePlague, which every year carried off so many people in Sweden. He spokevery plainly and the children understood every word. 

After the lecture they waited outside the schoolhouse. When the lecturercame out they took hold of hands and walked gravely up to him, asking ifthey might speak to him. 

The stranger must have wondered at the two rosy, baby-faced childrenstanding there talking with an earnestness more in keeping with peoplethrice their age; but he listened graciously to them. They related whathad happened in their home, and asked the lecturer if he thought theirmother and their sisters and brothers had died of the sickness he haddescribed. 

"Very likely, " he answered. "It could hardly have been any otherdisease. "

If only the mother and father had known what the children learned thatevening, they might have protected themselves. If they had burned theclothing of the vagabond woman; if they had scoured and aired the cabinand had not used the old bedding, all whom the children mourned mighthave been living yet. The lecturer said he could not say positively, buthe believed that none of their dear ones would have been sick had theyunderstood how to guard against the infection. 

Osa and Mats waited awhile before putting the next question, for thatwas the most important of all. It was not true then that the gipsy womanhad sent the sickness because they had befriended the one with whom shewas angry. It was not something special that had stricken only them. Thelecturer assured them that no person had the power to bring sicknessupon another in that way. 

Thereupon the children thanked him and went to their room. They talkeduntil late that night. 

The next day they gave notice that they could not tend geese anotheryear, but must go elsewhere. Where were they going? Why, to try to findtheir father. They must tell him that their mother and the otherchildren had died of a common ailment and not something special broughtupon them by an angry person. They were very glad that they had foundout about this. Now it was their duty to tell their father of it, forprobably he was still trying to solve the mystery. 

Osa and Mats set out for their old home on the heath. When they arrivedthey were shocked to find the little cabin in flames. They went to theparsonage and there they learned that a railroad workman had seen theirfather at Malmberget, far up in Lapland. He had been working in a mineand possibly was still there. When the clergyman heard that the childrenwanted to go in search of their father he brought forth a map and showedthem how far it was to Malmberget and tried to dissuade them from makingthe journey, but the children insisted that they must find their father. He had left home believing something that was not true. They must findhim and tell him that it was all a mistake. 

They did not want to spend their little savings buying railway tickets, therefore they decided to go all the way on foot, which they neverregretted, as it proved to be a remarkably beautiful journey. 

Before they were out of Småland, they stopped at a farm house to buyfood. The housewife was a kind, motherly soul who took an interest inthe children. She asked them who they were and where they came from, andthey told her their story. "Dear, dear! Dear, dear!" she interpolatedtime and again when they were speaking. Later she petted the childrenand stuffed them with all kinds of goodies, for which she would notaccept a penny. When they rose to thank her and go, the woman asked themto stop at her brother's farm in the next township. Of course thechildren were delighted. 

"Give him my greetings and tell him what has happened to you, " said thepeasant woman. 

This the children did and were well treated. From every farm after thatit was always: "If you happen to go in such and such a direction, stopthere or there and tell them what has happened to you. "

In every farm house to which they were sent there was always aconsumptive. So Osa and Mats went through the country unconsciouslyteaching the people how to combat that dreadful disease. 

Long, long ago, when the black plague was ravaging the country, 'twassaid that a boy and a girl were seen wandering from house to house. Theboy carried a rake, and if he stopped and raked in front of a house, itmeant that there many should die, but not all; for the rake has coarseteeth and does not take everything with it. The girl carried a broom, and if she came along and swept before a door, it meant that all wholived within must die; for the broom is an implement that makes a cleansweep. 

It seems quite remarkable that in our time two children should wanderthrough the land because of a cruel sickness. But these children did notfrighten people with the rake and the broom. They said rather: "We willnot content ourselves with merely raking the yard and sweeping thefloors, we will use mop and brush, water and soap. We will keep cleaninside and outside of the door and we ourselves will be clean in bothmind and body. In this way we will conquer the sickness. "

One day, while still in Lapland, Akka took the boy to Malmberget, wherethey discovered little Mats lying unconscious at the mouth of the pit. He and Osa had arrived there a short time before. That morning he hadbeen roaming about, hoping to come across his father. He had venturedtoo near the shaft and been hurt by flying rocks after the setting offof a blast. 

Thumbietot ran to the edge of the shaft and called down to the minersthat a little boy was injured. 

Immediately a number of labourers came rushing up to little Mats. Two ofthem carried him to the hut where he and Osa were staying. They did allthey could to save him, but it was too late. 

Thumbietot felt so sorry for poor Osa. He wanted to help and comforther; but he knew that if he were to go to her now, he would onlyfrighten her--such as he was!

The night after the burial of little Mats, Osa straightway shut herselfin her hut. 

She sat alone recalling, one after another, things her brother had saidand done. There was so much to think about that she did not go straightto bed, but sat up most of the night. The more she thought of herbrother the more she realized how hard it would be to live without him. At last she dropped her head on the table and wept. 

"What shall I do now that little Mats is gone?" she sobbed. 

It was far along toward morning and Osa, spent by the strain of her hardday, finally fell asleep. 

She dreamed that little Mats softly opened the door and stepped into theroom. 

"Osa, you must go and find father, " he said. 

"How can I when I don't even know where he is?" she replied in herdream. 

"Don't worry about that, " returned little Mats in his usual, cheery way. "I'll send some one to help you. "

Just as Osa, the goose girl, dreamed that little Mats had said this, there was a knock at the door. It was a real knock--not something sheheard in the dream, but she was so held by the dream that she could nottell the real from the unreal. As she went on to open the door, shethought:

"This must be the person little Mats promised to send me. "

She was right, for it was Thumbietot come to talk to her about herfather. 

When he saw that she was not afraid of him, he told her in a few wordswhere her father was and how to reach him. 

While he was speaking, Osa, the goose girl, gradually regainedconsciousness; when he had finished she was wide awake. 

Then she was so terrified at the thought of talking with an elf that shecould not say thank you or anything else, but quickly shut the door. 

As she did that she thought she saw an expression of pain flash acrossthe elf's face, but she could not help what she did, for she was besideherself with fright. She crept into bed as quickly as she could and drewthe covers over her head. 

Although she was afraid of the elf, she had a feeling that he meant wellby her. So the next day she made haste to do as he had told her. 

WITH THE LAPLANDERS

One afternoon in July it rained frightfully up around Lake Luossajaure. The Laplanders, who lived mostly in the open during the summer, hadcrawled under the tent and were squatting round the fire drinkingcoffee. 

The new settlers on the east shore of the lake worked diligently to havetheir homes in readiness before the severe Arctic winter set in. Theywondered at the Laplanders, who had lived in the far north for centurieswithout even thinking that better protection was needed against cold andstorm than thin tent covering. 

The Laplanders, on the other hand, wondered at the new settlers givingthemselves so much needless, hard work, when nothing more was necessaryto live comfortably than a few reindeer and a tent. 

They only had to drive the poles into the ground and spread the coversover them, and their abodes were ready. They did not have to troublethemselves about decorating or furnishing. The principal thing was toscatter some spruce twigs on the floor, spread a few skins, and hang thebig kettle, in which they cooked their reindeer meat, on a chainsuspended from the top of the tent poles. 

While the Laplanders were chatting over their coffee cups, a row boatcoming from the Kiruna side pulled ashore at the Lapps' quarters. 

A workman and a young girl, between thirteen and fourteen, stepped fromthe boat. The girl was Osa. The Lapp dogs bounded down to them, barkingloudly, and a native poked his head out of the tent opening to see whatwas going on. 

He was glad when he saw the workman, for he was a friend of theLaplanders--a kindly and sociable man, who could speak their nativetongue. The Lapp called to him to crawl under the tent. 

"You're just in time, Söderberg!" he said. "The coffee pot is on thefire. No one can do any work in this rain, so come in and tell us thenews. "

The workman went in, and, with much ado and amid a great deal oflaughter and joking, places were made for Söderberg and Osa, though thetent was already crowded to the limit with natives. Osa understood noneof the conversation. She sat dumb and looked in wonderment at the kettleand coffee pot; at the fire and smoke; at the Lapp men and Lapp women;at the children and dogs; the walls and floor; the coffee cups andtobacco pipes; the multi-coloured costumes and crude implements. Allthis was new to her. 

Suddenly she lowered her glance, conscious that every one in the tentwas looking at her. Söderberg must have said something about her, fornow both Lapp men and Lapp women took the short pipes from their mouthsand stared at her in open-eyed wonder and awe. The Laplander at her sidepatted her shoulder and nodded, saying in Swedish, "bra, bra!" (good, good!) A Lapp woman filled a cup to the brim with coffee and passed itunder difficulties, while a Lapp boy, who was about her own age, wriggled and crawled between the squatters over to her. 

Osa felt that Söderberg was telling the Laplanders that she had justburied her little brother, Mats. She wished he would find out about herfather instead. 

The elf had said that he lived with the Lapps, who camped west of LakeLuossajaure, and she had begged leave to ride up on a sand truck to seekhim, as no regular passenger trains came so far. Both labourers andforemen had assisted her as best they could. An engineer had sentSöderberg across the lake with her, as he spoke Lappish. She had hopedto meet her father as soon as she arrived. Her glance wandered anxiouslyfrom face to face, but she saw only natives. Her father was not there. 

She noticed that the Lapps and the Swede, Söderberg, grew more and moreearnest as they talked among themselves. The Lapps shook their heads andtapped their foreheads, as if they were speaking of some one that wasnot quite right in his mind. 

She became so uneasy that she could no longer endure the suspense andasked Söderberg what the Laplanders knew of her father. 

"They say he has gone fishing, " said the workman. "They're not sure thathe can get back to the camp to-night; but as soon as the weather clears, one of them will go in search of him. "

Thereupon he turned to the Lapps and went on talking to them. He did notwish to give Osa an opportunity to question him further about JonEsserson. 

THE NEXT MORNING

Ola Serka himself, who was the most distinguished man among the Lapps, had said that he would find Osa's father, but he appeared to be in nohaste and sat huddled outside the tent, thinking of Jon Esserson andwondering how best to tell him of his daughter's arrival. It wouldrequire diplomacy in order that Jon Esserson might not become alarmedand flee. He was an odd sort of man who was afraid of children. He usedto say that the sight of them made him so melancholy that he could notendure it. 

While Ola Serka deliberated, Osa, the goose girl, and Aslak, the youngLapp boy who had stared so hard at her the night before, sat on theground in front of the tent and chatted. 

Aslak had been to school and could speak Swedish. He was telling Osaabout the life of the "Saméfolk, " assuring her that they fared betterthan other people. 

Osa thought that they lived wretchedly, and told him so. 

"You don't know what you are talking about!" said Aslak curtly. "Onlystop with us a week and you shall see that we are the happiest people onearth. "

"If I were to stop here a whole week, I should be choked by all thesmoke in the tent, " Osa retorted. 

"Don't say that!" protested the boy. "You know nothing of us. Let metell you something which will make you understand that the longer youstay with us the more contented you will become. "

Thereupon Aslak began to tell Osa how a sickness called "The BlackPlague" once raged throughout the land. He was not certain as to whetherit had swept through the real "Saméland, " where they now were, but inJämtland it had raged so brutally that among the Saméfolk, who lived inthe forests and mountains there, all had died except a boy of fifteen. Among the Swedes, who lived in the valleys, none was left but a girl, who was also fifteen years old. 

The boy and girl separately tramped the desolate country all winter insearch of other human beings. Finally, toward spring, the two met. Aslak continued: "The Swedish girl begged the Lapp boy to accompany hersouthward, where she could meet people of her own race. She did not wishto tarry longer in Jämtland, where there were only vacant homesteads. I'll take you wherever you wish to go, ' said the boy, 'but not beforewinter. It's spring now, and my reindeer go westward toward themountains. You know that we who are of the Saméfolk must go where ourreindeer take us. ' The Swedish girl was the daughter of wealthy parents. She was used to living under a roof, sleeping in a bed, and eating at atable. She had always despised the poor mountaineers and thought thatthose who lived under the open sky were most unfortunate; but she wasafraid to return to her home, where there were none but the dead. 'Atleast let me go with you to the mountains, ' she said to the boy, 'sothat I sha'n't have to tramp about here all alone and never hear thesound of a human voice. '

"The boy willingly assented, so the girl went with the reindeer to themountains. 

"The herd yearned for the good pastures there, and every day trampedlong distances to feed on the moss. There was not time to pitch tents. The children had to lie on the snowy ground and sleep when the reindeerstopped to graze. The girl often sighed and complained of being so tiredthat she must turn back to the valley. Nevertheless she went along toavoid being left without human companionship. 

"When they reached the highlands the boy pitched a tent for the girl ona pretty hill that sloped toward a mountain brook. 

"In the evening he lassoed and milked the reindeer, and gave the girlmilk to drink. He brought forth dried reindeer meat and reindeer cheese, which his people had stowed away on the heights when they were there thesummer before. 

"Still the girl grumbled all the while, and was never satisfied. Shewould eat neither reindeer meat nor reindeer cheese, nor would she drinkreindeer milk. She could not accustom herself to squatting in the tentor to lying on the ground with only a reindeer skin and some sprucetwigs for a bed. 

"The son of the mountains laughed at her woes and continued to treat herkindly. 

"After a few days, the girl went up to the boy when he was milking andasked if she might help him. She next undertook to make the fire underthe kettle, in which the reindeer meat was to be cooked, then to carrywater and to make cheese. So the time passed pleasantly. The weather wasmild and food was easily procured. Together they set snares for game, fished for salmon-trout in the rapids and picked cloud-berries in theswamp. 

"When the summer was gone, they moved farther down the mountains, wherepine and leaf forests meet. There they pitched their tent. They had towork hard every day, but fared better, for food was even more plentifulthan in the summer because of the game. 

"When the snow came and the lakes began to freeze, they drew farthereast toward the dense pine forests. 

"As soon as the tent was up, the winter's work began. The boy taught thegirl to make twine from reindeer sinews, to treat skins, to make shoesand clothing of hides, to make combs and tools of reindeer horn, totravel on skis, and to drive a sledge drawn by reindeer. 

"When they had lived through the dark winter and the sun began to shineall day and most of the night, the boy said to the girl that now hewould accompany her southward, so that she might meet some of her ownrace. 

"Then the girl looked at him astonished. 

"'Why do you want to send me away?' she asked. 'Do you long to be alonewith your reindeer?'

"'I thought that you were the one that longed to get away?' said theboy. 

"'I have lived the life of the Saméfolk almost a year now, ' replied thegirl. I can't return to my people and live the shut-in life after havingwandered freely on mountains and in forests. Don't drive me away, butlet me stay here. Your way of living is better than ours. '

"The girl stayed with the boy for the rest of her life, and never againdid she long for the valleys. And you, Osa, if you were to stay with usonly a month, you could never again part from us. "

With these words, Aslak, the Lapp boy, finished his story. Just then hisfather, Ola Serka, took the pipe from his mouth and rose. 

Old Ola understood more Swedish than he was willing to have any oneknow, and he had overheard his son's remarks. While he was listening, ithad suddenly flashed on him how he should handle this delicate matter oftelling Jon Esserson that his daughter had come in search of him. 

Ola Serka went down to Lake Luossajaure and had walked a short distancealong the strand, when he happened upon a man who sat on a rock fishing. 

The fisherman was gray-haired and bent. His eyes blinked wearily andthere was something slack and helpless about him. He looked like a manwho had tried to carry a burden too heavy for him, or to solve a problemtoo difficult for him, who had become broken and despondent over hisfailure. 

"You must have had luck with your fishing, Jon, since you've been at itall night?" said the mountaineer in Lappish, as he approached. 

The fisherman gave a start, then glanced up. The bait on his hook wasgone and not a fish lay on the strand beside him. He hastened to rebaitthe hook and throw out the line. In the meantime the mountaineersquatted on the grass beside him. 

"There's a matter that I wanted to talk over with you, " said Ola. "Youknow that I had a little daughter who died last winter, and we havealways missed her in the tent. "

"Yes, I know, " said the fisherman abruptly, a cloud passing over hisface--as though he disliked being reminded of a dead child. 

"It's not worth while to spend one's life grieving, " said the Laplander. 

"I suppose it isn't. "

"Now I'm thinking of adopting another child. Don't you think it would bea good idea?"

"That depends on the child, Ola. "

"I will tell you what I know of the girl, " said Ola. Then he told thefisherman that around midsummer-time, two strange children--a boy and agirl--had come to the mines to look for their father, but as theirfather was away, they had stayed to await his return. While there, theboy had been killed by a blast of rock. 

Thereupon Ola gave a beautiful description of how brave the little girlhad been, and of how she had won the admiration and sympathy ofeveryone. 

"Is that the girl you want to take into your tent?" asked thefisherman. 

"Yes, " returned the Lapp. "When we heard her story we were all deeplytouched and said among ourselves that so good a sister would also make agood daughter, and we hoped that she would come to us. "

The fisherman sat quietly thinking a moment. It was plain that hecontinued the conversation only to please his friend, the Lapp. 

"I presume the girl is one of your race?"

"No, " said Ola, "she doesn't belong to the Saméfolk. "

"Perhaps she's the daughter of some new settler and is accustomed to thelife here?"

"No, she's from the far south, " replied Ola, as if this was of smallimportance. 

The fisherman grew more interested. 

"Then I don't believe that you can take her, " he said. "It's doubtful ifshe could stand living in a tent in winter, since she was not brought upthat way. "

"She will find kind parents and kind brothers and sisters in the tent, "insisted Ola Serka. "It's worse to be alone than to freeze. "

The fisherman became more and more zealous to prevent the adoption. Itseemed as if he could not bear the thought of a child of Swedish parentsbeing taken in by Laplanders. 

"You said just now that she had a father in the mine. "

"He's dead, " said the Lapp abruptly. 

"I suppose you have thoroughly investigated this matter, Ola?"

"What's the use of going to all that trouble?" disdained the Lapp. "Iought to know! Would the girl and her brother have been obliged to roamabout the country if they had a father living? Would two children havebeen forced to care for themselves if they had a father? The girlherself thinks he's alive, but I say that he must be dead. "

The man with the tired eyes turned to Ola. 

"What is the girl's name, Ola?" he asked. 

The mountaineer thought awhile, then said:

"I can't remember it. I must ask her. "

"Ask her! Is she already here?"

"She's down at the camp. "

"What, Ola! Have you taken her in before knowing her father's wishes?"

"What do I care for her father! If he isn't dead, he's probably the kindof man who cares nothing for his child. He may be glad to have anothertake her in hand. "

The fisherman threw down his rod and rose with an alertness in hismovements that bespoke new life. 

"I don't think her father can be like other folk, " continued themountaineer. "I dare say he is a man who is haunted by gloomyforebodings and therefore can not work steadily. What kind of a fatherwould that be for the girl?"

While Ola was talking the fisherman started up the strand. 

"Where are you going?" queried the Lapp. 

"I'm going to have a look at your foster-daughter, Ola. "

"Good!" said the Lapp. "Come along and meet her. I think you'll saythat she will be a good daughter to me. "

The Swede rushed on so rapidly that the Laplander could hardly keep pacewith him. 

After a moment Ola said to his companion:

"Now I recall that her name is Osa--this girl I'm adopting. "

The other man only kept hurrying along and old Ola Serka was so wellpleased that he wanted to laugh aloud. 

When they came in sight of the tents, Ola said a few words more. 

"She came here to us Saméfolk to find her father and not to become myfoster-child. But if she doesn't find him, I shall be glad to keep herin my tent. "

The fisherman hastened all the faster. 

"I might have known that he would be alarmed when I threatened to takehis daughter into the Lapps' quarters, " laughed Ola to himself. 

When the man from Kiruna, who had brought Osa to the tent, turned backlater in the day, he had two people with him in the boat, who sat closetogether, holding hands--as if they never again wanted to part. 

They were Jon Esserson and his daughter. Both were unlike what they hadbeen a few hours earlier. 

The father looked less bent and weary and his eyes were clear and good, as if at last he had found the answer to that which had troubled him solong. 

Osa, the goose girl, did not glance longingly about, for she had foundsome one to care for her, and now she could be a child again. 

HOMEWARD BOUND!

THE FIRST TRAVELLING DAY

_Saturday, October first_. 

The boy sat on the goosey-gander's back and rode up amongst the clouds. Some thirty geese, in regular order, flew rapidly southward. There was arustling of feathers and the many wings beat the air so noisily that onecould scarcely hear one's own voice. Akka from Kebnekaise flew in thelead; after her came Yksi and Kaksi, Kolme and Neljä, Viisi and Kuusi, Morten Goosey-Gander and Dunfin. The six goslings which had accompaniedthe flock the autumn before had now left to look after themselves. Instead, the old geese were taking with them twenty-two goslings thathad grown up in the glen that summer. Eleven flew to the right, elevento the left; and they did their best to fly at even distances, like thebig birds. 

The poor youngsters had never before been on a long trip and at firstthey had difficulty in keeping up with the rapid flight. 

"Akka from Kebnekaise! Akka from Kebnekaise!" they cried in plaintivetones. 

"What's the matter?" said the leader-goose sharply. 

"Our wings are tired of moving, our wings are tired of moving!" wailedthe young ones. 

"The longer you keep it up, the better it will go, " answered theleader-goose, without slackening her speed. And she was quite right, forwhen the goslings had flown two hours longer, they complained no more ofbeing tired. 

But in the mountain glen they had been in the habit of eating all daylong, and very soon they began to feel hungry. 

"Akka, Akka, Akka from Kebnekaise!" wailed the goslings pitifully. 

"What's the trouble now?" asked the leader-goose. 

"We're so hungry, we can't fly any more!" whimpered the goslings. "We'reso hungry, we can't fly any more!"

"Wild geese must learn to eat air and drink wind, " said theleader-goose, and kept right on flying. 

It actually seemed as if the young ones were learning to live on windand air, for when they had flown a little longer, they said nothing moreabout being hungry. 

The goose flock was still in the mountain regions, and the old geesecalled out the names of all the peaks as they flew past, so that theyoungsters might learn them. When they had been calling out a while:

"This is Porsotjokko, this is Särjaktjokko, this is Sulitelma, " and soon, the goslings became impatient again. 

"Akka, Akka, Akka!" they shrieked in heart-rending tones. 

"What's wrong?" said the leader-goose. 

"We haven't room in our heads for any more of those awful names!"shrieked the goslings. 

"The more you put into your heads the more you can get into them, "retorted the leader-goose, and continued to call out the queer names. 

The boy sat thinking that it was about time the wild geese betookthemselves southward, for so much snow had fallen that the ground waswhite as far as the eye could see. There was no use denying that it hadbeen rather disagreeable in the glen toward the last. Rain and fog hadsucceeded each other without any relief, and even if it did clear uponce in a while, immediately frost set in. Berries and mushrooms, uponwhich the boy had subsisted during the summer, were either frozen ordecayed. Finally he had been compelled to eat raw fish, which wassomething he disliked. The days had grown short and the long eveningsand late mornings were rather tiresome for one who could not sleep thewhole time that the sun was away. 

Now, at last, the goslings' wings had grown, so that the geese couldstart for the south. The boy was so happy that he laughed and sang as herode on the goose's back. It was not only on account of the darkness andcold that he longed to get away from Lapland; there were other reasonstoo. 

The first weeks of his sojourn there the boy had not been the least bithomesick. He thought he had never before seen such a glorious country. The only worry he had had was to keep the mosquitoes from eating him up. 

The boy had seen very little of the goosey-gander, because the big, white gander thought only of his Dunfin and was unwilling to leave herfor a moment. On the other hand, Thumbietot had stuck to Akka and Gorgo, the eagle, and the three of them had passed many happy hours together. 

The two birds had taken him with them on long trips. He had stood onsnow-capped Mount Kebnekaise, had looked down at the glaciers andvisited many high cliffs seldom tramped by human feet. Akka had shownhim deep-hidden mountain dales and had let him peep into caves wheremother wolves brought up their young. He had also made the acquaintanceof the tame reindeer that grazed in herds along the shores of thebeautiful Torne Lake, and he had been down to the great falls andbrought greetings to the bears that lived thereabouts from their friendsand relatives in Westmanland. 

Ever since he had seen Osa, the goose girl, he longed for the day whenhe might go home with Morten Goosey-Gander and be a normal human beingonce more. He wanted to be himself again, so that Osa would not beafraid to talk to him and would not shut the door in his face. 

Yes, indeed, he was glad that at last they were speeding southward. Hewaved his cap and cheered when he saw the first pine forest. In the samemanner he greeted the first gray cabin, the first goat, the first cat, and the first chicken. 

They were continually meeting birds of passage, flying now in greaterflocks than in the spring. 

"Where are you bound for, wild geese?" called the passing birds. "Whereare you bound for?"

"We, like yourselves, are going abroad, " answered the geese. 

"Those goslings of yours aren't ready to fly, " screamed the others. "They'll never cross the sea with those puny wings!"

Laplander and reindeer were also leaving the mountains. When the wildgeese sighted the reindeer, they circled down and called out:

"Thanks for your company this summer!"

"A pleasant journey to you and a welcome back!" returned the reindeer. 

But when the bears saw the wild geese, they pointed them out to the cubsand growled:

"Just look at those geese; they are so afraid of a little cold theydon't dare to stay at home in winter. "

But the old geese were ready with a retort and cried to their goslings:

"Look at those beasts that stay at home and sleep half the year ratherthan go to the trouble of travelling south!"

Down in the pine forest the young grouse sat huddled together and gazedlongingly after the big bird flocks which, amid joy and merriment, proceeded southward. 

"When will our turn come?" they asked the mother grouse. 

"You will have to stay at home with mamma and papa, " she said. 

LEGENDS FROM HÄRJEDALEN

_Tuesday, October fourth_. 

The boy had had three days' travel in the rain and mist and longed forsome sheltered nook, where he might rest awhile. 

At last the geese alighted to feed and ease their wings a bit. To hisgreat relief the boy saw an observation tower on a hill close by, anddragged himself to it. 

When he had climbed to the top of the tower he found a party of touriststhere, so he quickly crawled into a dark corner and was soon soundasleep. 

When the boy awoke, he began to feel uneasy because the touristslingered so long in the tower telling stories. He thought they wouldnever go. Morten Goosey-Gander could not come for him while they werethere and he knew, of course, that the wild geese were in a hurry tocontinue the journey. In the middle of a story he thought he heardhonking and the beating of wings, as if the geese were flying away, buthe did not dare to venture over to the balustrade to find out if it wasso. 

At last, when the tourists were gone, and the boy could crawl from hishiding place, he saw no wild geese, and no Morten Goosey-Gander came tofetch him. He called, "Here am I, where are you?" as loud as he could, but his travelling companions did not appear. Not for a second did hethink they had deserted him; but he feared that they had met with somemishap and was wondering what he should do to find them, when Bataki, the raven, lit beside him. 

The boy never dreamed that he should greet Bataki with such a gladwelcome as he now gave him. 

"Dear Bataki, " he burst forth. "How fortunate that you are here! Maybeyou know what has become of Morten Goosey-Gander and the wild geese?"

"I've just come with a greeting from them, " replied the raven. "Akka sawa hunter prowling about on the mountain and therefore dared not stay towait for you, but has gone on ahead. Get up on my back and you shallsoon be with your friends. "

The boy quickly seated himself on the raven's back and Bataki would soonhave caught up with the geese had he not been hindered by a fog. It wasas if the morning sun had awakened it to life. Little light veils ofmist rose suddenly from the lake, from fields, and from the forest. Theythickened and spread with marvellous rapidity, and soon the entireground was hidden from sight by white, rolling mists. 

Bataki flew along above the fog in clear air and sparkling sunshine, butthe wild geese must have circled down among the damp clouds, for it wasimpossible to sight them. The boy and the raven called and shrieked, butgot no response. 

"Well, this is a stroke of ill luck!" said Bataki finally. "But we knowthat they are travelling toward the south, and of course I'll find themas soon as the mist clears. "

The boy was distressed at the thought of being parted from MortenGoosey-Gander just now, when the geese were on the wing, and the bigwhite one might meet with all sorts of mishaps. After Thumbietot hadbeen sitting worrying for two hours or more, he remarked to himselfthat, thus far, there had been no mishap, and it was not worth while tolose heart. 

Just then he heard a rooster crowing down on the ground, and instantlyhe bent forward on the raven's back and called out:

"What's the name of the country I'm travelling over?"

"It's called Härjedalen, Härjedalen, Härjedalen, " crowed the rooster. 

"How does it look down there where you are?" the boy asked. 

"Cliffs in the west, woods in the east, broad valleys across the wholecountry, " replied the rooster. 

"Thank you, " cried the boy. "You give a clear account of it. "

When they had travelled a little farther, he heard a crow cawing down inthe mist. 

"What kind of people live in this country?" shouted the boy. 

"Good, thrifty peasants, " answered the crow. "Good, thrifty peasants. "

"What do they do?" asked the boy. "What do they do?"

"They raise cattle and fell forests, " cawed the crow. 

"Thanks, " replied the boy. "You answer well. "

A bit farther on he heard a human voice yodeling and singing down in themist. 

"Is there any large city in this part of the country?" the boy asked. 

"What--what--who is it that calls?" cried the human voice. 

"Is there any large city in this region?" the boy repeated. 

"I want to know who it is that calls, " shouted the human voice. 

"I might have known that I could get no information when I asked a humanbeing a civil question, " the boy retorted. 

It was not long before the mist went away as suddenly as it had come. Then the boy saw a beautiful landscape, with high cliffs as in Jämtland, but there were no large, flourishing settlements on the mountain slopes. The villages lay far apart, and the farms were small. Bataki followedthe stream southward till they came within sight of a village. There healighted in a stubble field and let the boy dismount. 

"In the summer grain grew on this ground, " said Bataki. "Look around andsee if you can't find something eatable. "

The boy acted upon the suggestion and before long he found a blade ofwheat. As he picked out the grains and ate them, Bataki talked to him. 

"Do you see that mountain towering directly south of us?" he asked. 

"Yes, of course, I see it, " said the boy. 

"It is called Sonfjället, " continued the raven; "you can imagine thatwolves were plentiful there once upon a time. "

"It must have been an ideal place for wolves, " said the boy. 

"The people who lived here in the valley were frequently attacked bythem, " remarked the raven. 

"Perhaps you remember a good wolf story you could tell me?" said theboy. 

"I've been told that a long, long time ago the wolves from Sonfjälletare supposed to have waylaid a man who had gone out to peddle hiswares, " began Bataki. "He was from Hede, a village a few miles down thevalley. It was winter time and the wolves made for him as he was drivingover the ice on Lake Ljusna. There were about nine or ten, and the manfrom Hede had a poor old horse, so there was very little hope of hisescaping. 

"When the man heard the wolves howl and saw how many there were afterhim, he lost his head, and it did not occur to him that he ought to dumphis casks and jugs out of the sledge, to lighten the load. He onlywhipped up the horse and made the best speed he could, but he soonobserved that the wolves were gaining on him. The shores were desolateand he was fourteen miles from the nearest farm. He thought that hisfinal hour had come, and was paralyzed with fear. 

"While he sat there, terrified, he saw something move in the brush, which had been set in the ice to mark out the road; and when hediscovered who it was that walked there, his fear grew more and moreintense. 

"Wild beasts were not coming toward him, but a poor old woman, namedFinn-Malin, who was in the habit of roaming about on highways andbyways. She was a hunchback, and slightly lame, so he recognized her ata distance. 

"The old woman was walking straight toward the wolves. The sledge hadhidden them from her view, and the man comprehended at once that, if hewere to drive on without warning her, she would walk right into the jawsof the wild beasts, and while they were rending her, he would have timeenough to get away. 

"The old woman walked slowly, bent over a cane. It was plain that shewas doomed if he did not help her, but even if he were to stop and takeher into the sledge, it was by no means certain that she would be safe. More than likely the wolves would catch up with them, and he and she andthe horse would all be killed. He wondered if it were not better tosacrifice one life in order that two might be spared--this flashed uponhim the minute he saw the old woman. He had also time to think how itwould be with him afterward--if perchance he might not regret that hehad not succoured her; or if people should some day learn of the meetingand that he had not tried to help her. It was a terrible temptation. 

"'I would rather not have seen her, ' he said to himself. 

"Just then the wolves howled savagely. The horse reared, plungedforward, and dashed past the old beggar woman. She, too, had heard thehowling of the wolves, and, as the man from Hede drove by, he saw thatthe old woman knew what awaited her. She stood motionless, her mouthopen for a cry, her arms stretched out for help. But she neither criednor tried to throw herself into the sledge. Something seemed to haveturned her to stone. 'It was I, ' thought the man. 'I must have lookedlike a demon as I passed. '

"He tried to feel satisfied, now that he was certain of escape; but atthat very moment his heart reproached him. Never before had he done adastardly thing, and he felt now that his whole life was blasted. 

"'Let come what may, ' he said, and reined in the horse, 'I cannot leaveher alone with the wolves!'

"It was with great difficulty that he got the horse to turn, but in theend he managed it and promptly drove back to her. 

"'Be quick and get into the sledge, ' he said gruffly; for he was madwith himself for not leaving the old woman to her fate. 

"'You might stay at home once in awhile, you old hag!' he growled. 'Nowboth my horse and I will come to grief on your account. '

"The old woman did not say a word, but the man from Hede was in no moodto spare her. 

"'The horse has already tramped thirty-five miles to-day, and the loadhasn't lightened any since you got up on it!' he grumbled, 'so that youmust understand he'll soon be exhausted. '

"The sledge runners crunched on the ice, but for all that he heard howthe wolves panted, and knew that the beasts were almost upon him. 

"'It's all up with us!' he said. 'Much good it was, either to you or tome, this attempt to save you, Finn-Malin!'

"Up to this point the old woman had been silent--like one who isaccustomed to take abuse--but now she said a few words. 

"'I can't understand why you don't throw out your wares and lighten theload. You can come back again to-morrow and gather them up. '

"The man realized that this was sound advice and was surprised that hehad not thought of it before. He tossed the reins to the old woman, loosed the ropes that bound the casks, and pitched them out. The wolveswere right upon them, but now they stopped to examine that which wasthrown on the ice, and the travellers again had the start of them. 

"'If this does not help you, ' said the old woman, 'you understand, ofcourse, that I will give myself up to the wolves voluntarily, that youmay escape. '

"While she was speaking the man was trying to push a heavy brewer's vatfrom the long sledge. As he tugged at this he paused, as if he could notquite make up his mind to throw it out; but, in reality, his mind wastaken up with something altogether different. 

"'Surely a man and a horse who have no infirmities need not let a feebleold woman be devoured by wolves for their sakes!' he thought. 'Theremust be some other way of salvation. Why, of course, there is! It's onlymy stupidity that hinders me from finding the way. '

"Again he started to push the vat, then paused once more and burst outlaughing. 

"The old woman was alarmed and wondered if he had gone mad, but the manfrom Hede was laughing at himself because he had been so stupid all thewhile. It was the simplest thing in the world to save all three of them. He could not imagine why he had not thought of it before. 

"'Listen to what I say to you, Malin!' he said. 'It was splendid of youto be willing to throw yourself to the wolves. But you won't have to dothat because I know how we can all three be helped without endangeringthe life of any. Remember, whatever I may do, you are to sit still anddrive down to Linsäll. There you must waken the townspeople and tellthem that I'm alone out here on the ice, surrounded by wolves, and askthem to come and help me. '

"The man waited until the wolves were almost upon the sledge. Then herolled out the big brewer's vat, jumped down, and crawled in under it. 

"It was a huge vat, large enough to hold a whole Christmas brew. Thewolves pounced upon it and bit at the hoops, but the vat was too heavyfor them to move. They could not get at the man inside. 

"He knew that he was safe and laughed at the wolves. After a bit he wasserious again. 

"'For the future, when I get into a tight place, I shall remember thisvat, and I shall bear in mind that I need never wrong either myself orothers, for there is always a third way out of a difficulty if only onecan hit upon it. '"

With this Bataki closed his narrative. 

The boy noticed that the raven never spoke unless there was some specialmeaning back of his words, and the longer he listened to him, the morethoughtful he became. 

"I wonder why you told me that story?" remarked the boy. 

"I just happened to think of it as I stood here, gazing up atSonfjället, " replied the raven. 

Now they had travelled farther down Lake Ljusna and in an hour or sothey came to Kolsätt, close to the border of Hälsingland. Here the ravenalighted near a little hut that had no windows--only a shutter. From thechimney rose sparks and smoke, and from within the sound of heavyhammering was heard. 

"Whenever I see this smithy, " observed the raven, "I'm reminded that, informer times, there were such skilled blacksmiths here in Härjedalen, more especially in this village--that they couldn't be matched in thewhole country. "

"Perhaps you also remember a story about them?" said the boy. 

"Yes, " returned Bataki, "I remember one about a smith from Härjedalenwho once invited two other master blacksmiths--one from Dalecarlia andone from Vermland--to compete with him at nail-making. The challenge wasaccepted and the three blacksmiths met here at Kolsätt. The Dalecarlianbegan. He forged a dozen nails, so even and smooth and sharp that theycouldn't be improved upon. After him came the Vermlander. He, too, forged a dozen nails, which were quite perfect and, moreover, hefinished them in half the time that it took the Dalecarlian. When thejudges saw this they said to the Härjedal smith that it wouldn't beworth while for him to try, since he could not forge better than theDalecarlian or faster than the Vermlander. 

"'I sha'n't give up! There must be still another way of excelling, 'insisted the Härjedal smith. 

"He placed the iron on the anvil without heating it at the forge; hesimply hammered it hot and forged nail after nail, without the use ofeither anvil or bellows. None of the judges had ever seen a blacksmithwield a hammer more masterfully, and the Härjedal smith was proclaimedthe best in the land. "

With these remarks Bataki subsided, and the boy grew even morethoughtful. 

"I wonder what your purpose was in telling me that?" he queried. 

"The story dropped into my mind when I saw the old smithy again, " saidBataki in an offhand manner. 

The two travellers rose again into the air and the raven carried the boysouthward till they came to Lillhärdal Parish, where he alighted on aleafy mound at the top of a ridge. 

"I wonder if you know upon what mound you are standing?" said Bataki. 

The boy had to confess that he did not know. 

"This is a grave, " said Bataki. "Beneath this mound lies the firstsettler in Härjedalen. "

"Perhaps you have a story to tell of him too?" said the boy. 

"I haven't heard much about him, but I think he was a Norwegian. He hadserved with a Norwegian king, got into his bad graces, and had to fleethe country. 

"Later he went over to the Swedish king, who lived at Upsala, and tookservice with him. But, after a time, he asked for the hand of the king'ssister in marriage, and when the king wouldn't give him such a high-bornbride, he eloped with her. By that time he had managed to get himselfinto such disfavour that it wasn't safe for him to live either in Norwayor Sweden, and he did not wish to move to a foreign country. 'But theremust still be a course open to me, ' he thought. With his servants andtreasures, he journeyed through Dalecarlia until he arrived in thedesolate forests beyond the outskirts of the province. There he settled, built houses and broke up land. Thus, you see, he was the first man tosettle in this part of the country. "

As the boy listened to the last story, he looked very serious. 

"I wonder what your object is in telling me all this?" he repeated. 

Bataki twisted and turned and screwed up his eyes, and it was some timebefore he answered the boy. 

"Since we are here alone, " he said finally, "I shall take thisopportunity to question you regarding a certain matter. 

"Have you ever tried to ascertain upon what terms the elf whotransformed you was to restore you to a normal human being?"

"The only stipulation I've heard anything about was that I should takethe white goosey-gander up to Lapland and bring him back to Skåne, safeand sound. "

"I thought as much, " said Bataki; "for when last we met, you talkedconfidently of there being nothing more contemptible than deceiving afriend who trusts one. You'd better ask Akka about the terms. You know, I dare say, that she was at your home and talked with the elf. "

"Akka hasn't told me of this, " said the boy wonderingly. 

"She must have thought that it was best for you not to know just whatthe elf _did_ say. Naturally she would rather help you than MortenGoosey-Gander. "

"It is singular, Bataki, that you always have a way of making me feelunhappy and anxious, " said the boy. 

"I dare say it might seem so, " continued the raven, "but this time Ibelieve that you will be grateful to me for telling you that the elf'swords were to this effect: You were to become a normal human being againif you would bring back Morten Goosey-Gander that your mother might layhim on the block and chop his head off. "

The boy leaped up. 

"That's only one of your base fabrications, " he cried indignantly. 

"You can ask Akka yourself, " said Bataki. "I see her coming up therewith her whole flock. And don't forget what I have told you to-day. There is usually a way out of all difficulties, if only one can find it. I shall be interested to see what success you have. "

VERMLAND AND DALSLAND

_Wednesday, October fifth_. 

To-day the boy took advantage of the rest hour, when Akka was feedingapart from the other wild geese, to ask her if that which Bataki hadrelated was true, and Akka could not deny it. The boy made theleader-goose promise that she would not divulge the secret to MortenGoosey-Gander. The big white gander was so brave and generous that hemight do something rash were he to learn of the elf's stipulations. 

Later the boy sat on the goose-back, glum and silent, and hung his head. He heard the wild geese call out to the goslings that now they were inDalarne, they could see Städjan in the north, and that now they wereflying over Österdal River to Horrmund Lake and were coming to VesterdalRiver. But the boy did not care even to glance at all this. 

"I shall probably travel around with wild geese the rest of my life, " heremarked to himself, "and I am likely to see more of this land than Iwish. "

He was quite as indifferent when the wild geese called out to him thatnow they had arrived in Vermland and that the stream they were followingsouthward was Klarälven. 

"I've seen so many rivers already, " thought the boy, "why bother to lookat one more?"

Even had he been more eager for sight-seeing, there was not very much tobe seen, for northern Vermland is nothing but vast, monotonous foresttracts, through which Klarälven winds--narrow and rich in rapids. Hereand there one can see a charcoal kiln, a forest clearing, or a few low, chimneyless huts, occupied by Finns. But the forest as a whole is soextensive one might fancy it was far up in Lapland. 

A LITTLE HOMESTEAD

_Thursday, October sixth_. 

The wild geese followed Klarälven as far as the big iron foundries atMonk Fors. Then they proceeded westward to Fryksdalen. Before they gotto Lake Fryken it began to grow dusky, and they lit in a little wetmorass on a wooded hill. The morass was certainly a good night quarterfor the wild geese, but the boy thought it dismal and rough, and wishedfor a better sleeping place. While he was still high in the air, he hadnoticed that below the ridge lay a number of farms, and with great hastehe proceeded to seek them out. 

They were farther away than he had fancied and several times he wastempted to turn back. Presently the woods became less dense, and he cameto a road skirting the edge of the forest. From it branched a prettybirch-bordered lane, which led down to a farm, and immediately hehastened toward it. 

First the boy entered a farm yard as large as a city marketplace andenclosed by a long row of red houses. As he crossed the yard, he sawanother farm where the dwelling-house faced a gravel path and a widelawn. Back of the house there was a garden thick with foliage. Thedwelling itself was small and humble, but the garden was edged by a rowof exceedingly tall mountain-ash trees, so close together that theyformed a real wall around it. It appeared to the boy as if he werecoming into a great, high-vaulted chamber, with the lovely blue sky fora ceiling. The mountain-ash were thick with clusters of red berries, thegrass plots were still green, of course, but that night there was a fullmoon, and as the bright moonlight fell upon the grass it looked as whiteas silver. 

No human being was in sight and the boy could wander freely wherever hewished. When he was in the garden he saw something which almost put himin good humour. He had climbed a mountain-ash to eat berries, but beforehe could reach a cluster he caught sight of a barberry bush, which wasalso full of berries. He slid along the ash branch and clambered up intothe barberry bush, but he was no sooner there than he discovered acurrant bush, on which still hung long red clusters. Next he saw thatthe garden was full of gooseberries and raspberries and dog-rose bushes;that there were cabbages and turnips in the vegetable beds and berrieson every bush, seeds on the herbs and grain-filled ears on every blade. And there on the path--no, of course he could not mistake it--was a bigred apple which shone in the moonlight. 

The boy sat down at the side of the path, with the big red apple infront of him, and began cutting little pieces from it with his sheathknife. 

"It wouldn't be such a serious matter to be an elf all one's life if itwere always as easy to get good food as it is here, " he thought. 

He sat and mused as he ate, wondering finally if it would not be as wellfor him to remain here and let the wild geese travel south without him. 

"I don't know for the life of me how I can ever explain to MortenGoosey-Gander that I cannot go home, " thought he. "It would be betterwere I to leave him altogether. I could gather provisions enough for thewinter, as well as the squirrels do, and if I were to live in a darkcorner of the stable or the cow shed, I shouldn't freeze to death. "

Just as he was thinking this, he heard a light rustle over his head, and a second later something which resembled a birch stump stood on theground beside him. 

The stump twisted and turned, and two bright dots on top of it glowedlike coals of fire. It looked like some enchantment. However, the boysoon remarked that the stump had a hooked beak and big feather wreathsaround its glowing eyes. Then he knew that this was no enchantment. 

"It is a real pleasure to meet a living creature, " remarked the boy. "Perhaps you will be good enough to tell me the name of this place, Mrs. Brown Owl, and what sort of folk live here. "

That evening, as on all other evenings, the owl had perched on a rung ofthe big ladder propped against the roof, from which she had looked downtoward the gravel walks and grass plots, watching for rats. Very much toher surprise, not a single grayskin had appeared. She saw insteadsomething that looked like a human being, but much, much smaller, movingabout in the garden. 

"That's the one who is scaring away the rats!" thought the owl. "What inthe world can it be? It's not a squirrel, nor a kitten, nor a weasel, "she observed. "I suppose that a bird who has lived on an old place likethis as long as I have ought to know about everything in the world; butthis is beyond my comprehension, " she concluded. 

She had been staring at the object that moved on the gravel path untilher eyes burned. Finally curiosity got the better of her and she flewdown to the ground to have a closer view of the stranger. 

When the boy began to speak, the owl bent forward and looked him up anddown. 

"He has neither claws nor horns, " she remarked to herself, "yet whoknows but he may have a poisonous fang or some even more dangerousweapon. I must try to find out what he passes for before I venture totouch him. "

"The place is called Mårbacka, " said the owl, "and gentlefolk lived hereonce upon a time. But you, yourself, who are you?"

"I think of moving in here, " volunteered the boy without answering theowl's question. "Would it be possible, do you think?"

"Oh, yes--but it's not much of a place now compared to what it wasonce, " said the owl. "You can weather it here I dare say. It all dependsupon what you expect to live on. Do you intend to take up the ratchase?"

"Oh, by no means!" declared the boy. "There is more fear of the ratseating me than that I shall do them any harm. "

"It can't be that he is as harmless as he says, " thought the brown owl. "All the same I believe I'll make an attempt. .. . " She rose into the air, and in a second her claws were fastened in Nils Holgersson's shoulderand she was trying to hack at his eyes. 

The boy shielded both eyes with one hand and tried to free himself withthe other, at the same time calling with all his might for help. Herealized that he was in deadly peril and thought that this time, surely, it was all over with him!

Now I must tell you of a strange coincidence: The very year that NilsHolgersson travelled with the wild geese there was a woman who thoughtof writing a book about Sweden, which would be suitable for children toread in the schools. She had thought of this from Christmas time untilthe following autumn; but not a line of the book had she written. Atlast she became so tired of the whole thing that she said to herself:"You are not fitted for such work. Sit down and compose stories andlegends, as usual, and let another write this book, which has got to beserious and instructive, and in which there must not be one untruthfulword. "

It was as good as settled that she would abandon the idea. But shethought, very naturally, it would have been agreeable to write somethingbeautiful about Sweden, and it was hard for her to relinquish her work. Finally, it occurred to her that maybe it was because she lived in acity, with only gray streets and house walls around her, that she couldmake no headway with the writing. Perhaps if she were to go into thecountry, where she could see woods and fields, that it might go better. 

She was from Vermland, and it was perfectly clear to her that shewished to begin the book with that province. First of all she wouldwrite about the place where she had grown up. It was a little homestead, far removed from the great world, where many old-time habits and customswere retained. She thought that it would be entertaining for children tohear of the manifold duties which had succeeded one another the yeararound. She wanted to tell them how they celebrated Christmas and NewYear and Easter and Midsummer Day in her home; what kind of housefurnishings they had; what the kitchen and larder were like, and how thecow shed, stable, lodge, and bath house had looked. But when she was towrite about it the pen would not move. Why this was she could not in theleast understand; nevertheless it was so. 

True, she remembered it all just as distinctly as if she were stillliving in the midst of it. She argued with herself that since she wasgoing into the country anyway, perhaps she ought to make a little tripto the old homestead that she might see it again before writing aboutit. She had not been there in many years and did not think it half badto have a reason for the journey. In fact she had always longed to bethere, no matter in what part of the world she happened to be. She hadseen many places that were more pretentious and prettier. But nowherecould she find such comfort and protection as in the home of herchildhood. 

It was not such an easy matter for her to go home as one might think, for the estate had been sold to people she did not know. She felt, to besure, that they would receive her well, but she did not care to go tothe old place to sit and talk with strangers, for she wanted to recallhow it had been in times gone by. That was why she planned it so as toarrive there late in the evening, when the day's work was done and thepeople were indoors. 

She had never imagined that it would be so wonderful to come home! Asshe sat in the cart and drove toward the old homestead she fancied thatshe was growing younger and younger every minute, and that soon shewould no longer be an oldish person with hair that was turning gray, but a little girl in short skirts with a long flaxen braid. As sherecognized each farm along the road, she could not picture anything elsethan that everything at home would be as in bygone days. Her father andmother and brothers and sisters would be standing on the porch towelcome her; the old housekeeper would run to the kitchen window to seewho was coming, and Nero and Freja and another dog or two would comebounding and jumping up on her. 

The nearer she approached the place the happier she felt. It was autumn, which meant a busy time with a round of duties. It must have been allthese varying duties which prevented home from ever being monotonous. All along the way the farmers were digging potatoes, and probably theywould be doing likewise at her home. That meant that they must beginimmediately to grate potatoes and make potato flour. The autumn had beena mild one; she wondered if everything in the garden had already beenstored. The cabbages were still out, but perhaps the hops had beenpicked, and all the apples. 

It would be well if they were not having house cleaning at home. Autumnfair time was drawing nigh, everywhere the cleaning and scouring had tobe done before the fair opened. That was regarded as a great event--moreespecially by the servants. It was a pleasure to go into the kitchen onMarket Eve and see the newly scoured floor strewn with juniper twigs, the whitewashed walls and the shining copper utensils which weresuspended from the ceiling. 

Even after the fair festivities were over there would not be much of abreathing spell, for then came the work on the flax. During dog days theflax had been spread out on a meadow to mould. Now it was laid in theold bath house, where the stove was lighted to dry it out. When it wasdry enough to handle all the women in the neighbourhood were calledtogether. They sat outside the bath house and picked the flax to pieces. Then they beat it with swingles, to separate the fine white fibres fromthe dry stems. As they worked, the women grew gray with dust; their hairand clothing were covered with flax seed, but they did not seem to mindit. All day the swingles pounded, and the chatter went on, so that whenone went near the old bath house it sounded as if a blustering storm hadbroken loose there. 

After the work with the flax, came the big hard-tack baking, the sheepshearing, and the servants' moving time. In November there were busyslaughter days, with salting of meats, sausage making, baking of bloodpudding, and candle steeping. The seamstress who used to make up theirhomespun dresses had to come at this time, of course, and those werealways two pleasant weeks--when the women folk sat together and busiedthemselves with sewing. The cobbler, who made shoes for the entirehousehold, sat working at the same time in the men-servants' quarters, and one never tired of watching him as he cut the leather and soled andheeled the shoes and put eyelets in the shoestring holes. 

But the greatest rush came around Christmas time. Lucia Day--when thehousemaid went about dressed in white, with candles in her hair, andserved coffee to everybody at five in the morning--came as a sort ofreminder that for the next two weeks they could not count on much sleep. For now they must brew the Christmas ale, steep the Christmas fish inlye, and do their Christmas baking and Christmas scouring. 

She was in the middle of the baking, with pans of Christmas buns andcooky platters all around her, when the driver drew in the reins at theend of the lane as she had requested. She started like one suddenlyawakened from a sound sleep. It was dismal for her who had just dreamedherself surrounded by all her people to be sitting alone in the lateevening. As she stepped from the wagon and started to walk up the longlane that she might come unobserved to her old home, she felt so keenlythe contrast between then and now that she would have preferred to turnback. 

"Of what use is it to come here?" she sighed. "It can't be the same asin the old days!"

On the other hand she felt that since she had travelled such a longdistance, she would see the place at all events, so continued to walkon, although she was more depressed with every step that she took. 

She had heard that it was very much changed; and it certainly was! Butshe did not observe this now in the evening. She thought, rather, thateverything was quite the same. There was the pond, which in her youthhad been full of carp and where no one dared fish, because it wasfather's wish that the carp should be left in peace. Over there were themen-servants' quarters, the larder and barn, with the farm yard bellover one gable and the weather-vane over the other. The house yard waslike a circular room, with no outlook in any direction, as it had beenin her father's time--for he had not the heart to cut down as much as abush. 

She lingered in the shadow under the big mountain-ash at the entrance tothe farm, and stood looking about her. As she stood there a strangething happened; a flock of doves came and lit beside her. 

She could hardly believe that they were real birds, for doves are not inthe habit of moving about after sundown. It must have been the beautifulmoonlight that had awakened these. They must have thought it was dawnand flown from their dove-cotes, only to become confused, hardly knowingwhere they were. When they saw a human being they flew over to her, asif she would set them right. 

There had been many flocks of doves at the manor when her parents livedthere, for the doves were among the creatures which her father had takenunder his special care. If one ever mentioned the killing of a dove, itput him in a bad humour. She was pleased that the pretty birds had cometo meet her in the old home. Who could tell but the doves had flown outin the night to show her they had not forgotten that once upon a timethey had a good home there. 

Perhaps her father had sent his birds with a greeting to her, so thatshe would not feel so sad and lonely when she came to her former home. 

As she thought of this, there welled up within her such an intenselonging for the old times that her eyes filled with tears. Life hadbeen beautiful in this place. They had had weeks of work broken by manyholiday festivities. They had toiled hard all day, but at evening theyhad gathered around the lamp and read Tegner and Runeberg, "_Fru"_Lenngren and "_Mamsell"_ Bremer. They had cultivated grain, but alsoroses and jasmine. They had spun flax, but had sung folk-songs as theyspun. They had worked hard at their history and grammar, but they hadalso played theatre and written verses. They had stood at the kitchenstove and prepared food, but had learned, also, to play the flute andguitar, the violin and piano. They had planted cabbages and turnips, peas and beans in one garden, but they had another full of apples andpears and all kinds of berries. They had lived by themselves, and thiswas why so many stories and legends were stowed away in their memories. They had worn homespun clothes, but they had also been able to leadcare-free and independent lives. 

"Nowhere else in the world do they know how to get so much out of lifeas they did at one of these little homesteads in my childhood!" shethought. "There was just enough work and just enough play, and every daythere was a joy. How I should love to come back here again! Now that Ihave seen the place, it is hard to leave it. "

Then she turned to the flock of doves and said to them--laughing atherself all the while:

"Won't you fly to father and tell him that I long to come home? I havewandered long enough in strange places. Ask him if he can't arrange itso that I may soon turn back to my childhood's home. "

The moment she had said this the flock of doves rose and flew away. Shetried to follow them with her eyes, but they vanished instantly. It wasas if the whole white company had dissolved in the shimmering air. 

The doves had only just gone when she heard a couple of piercing criesfrom the garden, and as she hastened thither she saw a singular sight. There stood a tiny midget, no taller than a hand's breadth, strugglingwith a brown owl. At first she was so astonished that she could notmove. But when the midget cried more and more pitifully, she stepped upquickly and parted the fighters. The owl swung herself into a tree, butthe midget stood on the gravel path, without attempting either to hideor to run away. 

"Thanks for your help, " he said. "But it was very stupid of you to letthe owl escape. I can't get away from here, because she is sitting up inthe tree watching me. "

"It was thoughtless of me to let her go. But to make amends, can't Iaccompany you to your home?" asked she who wrote stories, somewhatsurprised to think that in this unexpected fashion she had got intoconversation with one of the tiny folk. Still she was not so muchsurprised after all. It was as if all the while she had been awaitingsome extraordinary experience, while she walked in the moonlight outsideher old home. 

"The fact is, I had thought of stopping here over night, " said themidget. "If you will only show me a safe sleeping place, I shall not beobliged to return to the forest before daybreak. "

"Must I show you a place to sleep? Are you not at home here?"

"I understand that you take me for one of the tiny folk, " said themidget, "but I'm a human being, like yourself, although I have beentransformed by an elf. "

"That is the most remarkable thing I have ever heard! Wouldn't you liketo tell me how you happened to get into such a plight?"

The boy did not mind telling her of his adventures, and, as thenarrative proceeded, she who listened to him grew more and moreastonished and happy. 

"What luck to run across one who has travelled all over Sweden on theback of a goose!" thought she. "Just this which he is relating I shallwrite down in my book. Now I need worry no more over that matter. It waswell that I came home. To think that I should find such help as soon asI came to the old place!"

Instantly another thought flashed into her mind. She had sent word toher father by the doves that she longed for home, and almost immediatelyshe had received help in the matter she had pondered so long. Might notthis be the father's answer to her prayer?

THE TREASURE ON THE ISLAND

ON THEIR WAY TO THE SEA

_Friday, October seventh_. 

From the very start of the autumn trip the wild geese had flown straightsouth; but when they left Fryksdalen they veered in another direction, travelling over western Vermland and Dalsland, toward Bohuslän. 

That was a jolly trip! The goslings were now so used to flying that theycomplained no more of fatigue, and the boy was fast recovering his goodhumour. He was glad that he had talked with a human being. He feltencouraged when she said to him that if he were to continue doing goodto all whom he met, as heretofore, it could not end badly for him. Shewas not able to tell him how to get back his natural form, but she hadgiven him a little hope and assurance, which inspired the boy to thinkout a way to prevent the big white gander from going home. 

"Do you know, Morten Goosey-Gander, that it will be rather monotonousfor us to stay at home all winter after having been on a trip likethis, " he said, as they were flying far up in the air. "I'm sitting herethinking that we ought to go abroad with the geese. "

"Surely you are not in earnest!" said the goosey-gander. Since he hadproved to the wild geese his ability to travel with them all the way toLapland, he was perfectly satisfied to get back to the goose pen inHolger Nilsson's cow shed. 

The boy sat silently a while and gazed down on Vermland, where the birchwoods, leafy groves, and gardens were clad in red and yellow autumncolours. 

"I don't think I've ever seen the earth beneath us as lovely as it isto-day!" he finally remarked. "The lakes are like blue satin bands. Don't you think it would be a pity to settle down in West Vemminghög andnever see any more of the world?"

"I thought you wanted to go home to your mother and father and show themwhat a splendid boy you had become?" said the goosey-gander. 

All summer he had been dreaming of what a proud moment it would be forhim when he should alight in the house yard before Holger Nilsson'scabin and show Dunfin and the six goslings to the geese and chickens, the cows and the cat, and to Mother Holger Nilsson herself, so that hewas not very happy over the boy's proposal. 

"Now, Morten Goosey-Gander, don't you think yourself that it would behard never to see anything more that is beautiful!" said the boy. 

"I would rather see the fat grain fields of Söderslätt than these leanhills, " answered the goosey-gander. "But you must know very well thatif you really wish to continue the trip, I can't be parted from you. "

"That is just the answer I had expected from you, " said the boy, and hisvoice betrayed that he was relieved of a great anxiety. 

Later, when they travelled over Bohuslän, the boy observed that themountain stretches were more continuous, the valleys were more likelittle ravines blasted in the rock foundation, while the long lakes attheir base were as black as if they had come from the underworld. This, too, was a glorious country, and as the boy saw it, with now a strip ofsun, now a shadow, he thought that there was something strange and wildabout it. He knew not why, but the idea came to him that once upon atime there were many strong and brave heroes in these mystical regionswho had passed through many dangerous and daring adventures. The oldpassion of wanting to share in all sorts of wonderful adventures awokein him. 

"I might possibly miss not being in danger of my life at least onceevery day or two, " he thought. "Anyhow it's best to be content withthings as they are. "

He did not speak of this idea to the big white gander, because the geesewere now flying over Bohuslän with all the speed they could muster, andthe goosey-gander was puffing so hard that he would not have had thestrength to reply. 

The sun was far down on the horizon, and disappeared every now and thenbehind a hill; still the geese kept forging ahead. 

Finally, in the west, they saw a shining strip of light, which grewbroader and broader with every wing stroke. Soon the sea spread beforethem, milk white with a shimmer of rose red and sky blue, and when theyhad circled past the coast cliffs they saw the sun again, as it hungover the sea, big and red and ready to plunge into the waves. 

As the boy gazed at the broad, endless sea and the red evening sun, which had such a kindly glow that he dared to look straight at it, hefelt a sense of peace and calm penetrate his soul. 

"It's not worth while to be sad, Nils Holgersson, " said the Sun. "Thisis a beautiful world to live in both for big and little. It is also goodto be free and happy, and to have a great dome of open sky above you. "

THE GIFT OF THE WILD GEESE

The geese stood sleeping on a little rock islet just beyond Fjällbacka. When it drew on toward midnight, and the moon hung high in the heavens, old Akka shook the sleepiness out of her eyes. After that she walkedaround and awakened Yksi and Kaksi, Kolme and Neljä, Viisi and Kuusi, and, last of all, she gave Thumbietot a nudge with her bill thatstartled him. 

"What is it, Mother Akka?" he asked, springing up in alarm. 

"Nothing serious, " assured the leader-goose. "It's just this: we sevenwho have been long together want to fly a short distance out to seato-night, and we wondered if you would care to come with us. "

The boy knew that Akka would not have proposed this move had there notbeen something important on foot, so he promptly seated himself on herback. The flight was straight west. The wild geese first flew over abelt of large and small islands near the coast, then over a broadexpanse of open sea, till they reached the large cluster known as theVäder Islands. All of them were low and rocky, and in the moonlight onecould see that they were rather large. 

Akka looked at one of the smallest islands and alighted there. Itconsisted of a round, gray stone hill, with a wide cleft across it, intowhich the sea had cast fine, white sea sand and a few shells. 

As the boy slid from the goose's back he noticed something quite closeto him that looked like a jagged stone. But almost at once he saw thatit was a big vulture which had chosen the rock island for a nightharbour. Before the boy had time to wonder at the geese recklesslyalighting so near a dangerous enemy, the bird flew up to them and theboy recognized Gorgo, the eagle. 

Evidently Akka and Gorgo had arranged the meeting, for neither of themwas taken by surprise. 

"This was good of you, Gorgo, " said Akka. "I didn't expect that youwould be at the meeting place ahead of us. Have you been here long?"

"I came early in the evening, " replied Gorgo. "But I fear that the onlypraise I deserve is for keeping my appointment with you. I've not beenvery successful in carrying out the orders you gave me. "

"I'm sure, Gorgo, that you have done more than you care to admit, "assured Akka. "But before you relate your experiences on the trip, Ishall ask Thumbietot to help me find something which is supposed to beburied on this island. "

The boy stood gazing admiringly at two beautiful shells, but when Akkaspoke his name, he glanced up. 

"You must have wondered, Thumbietot, why we turned out of our course tofly here to the West Sea, " said Akka. 

"To be frank, I did think it strange, " answered the boy. "But I knew, ofcourse, that you always have some good reason for whatever you do. "

"You have a good opinion of me, " returned Akka, "but I almost fear youwill lose it now, for it's very probable that we have made this journeyin vain. 

"Many years ago it happened that two of the other old geese and myselfencountered frightful storms during a spring flight and were wind-drivento this island. When we discovered that there was only open sea beforeus, we feared we should be swept so far out that we should never findour way back to land, so we lay down on the waves between these barecliffs, where the storm compelled us to remain for several days. 

"We suffered terribly from hunger; once we ventured up to the cleft onthis island in search of food. We couldn't find a green blade, but wesaw a number of securely tied bags half buried in the sand. We hoped tofind grain in the bags and pulled and tugged at them till we tore thecloth. However, no grain poured out, but shining gold pieces. For suchthings we wild geese had no use, so we left them where they were. Wehaven't thought of the find in all these years; but this autumnsomething has come up to make us wish for gold. 

"We do not know that the treasure is still here, but we have travelledall this way to ask you to look into the matter. "

With a shell in either hand the boy jumped down into the cleft and beganto scoop up the sand. He found no bags, but when he had made a deep holehe heard the clink of metal and saw that he had come upon a gold piece. Then he dug with his fingers and felt many coins in the sand. So hehurried back to Akka. 

"The bags have rotted and fallen apart, " he exclaimed, "and the moneylies scattered all through the sand. "

"That's well!" said Akka. "Now fill in the hole and smooth it over so noone will notice the sand has been disturbed. "

The boy did as he was told, but when he came up from the cleft he wasastonished to see that the wild geese were lined up, with Akka in thelead, and were marching toward him with great solemnity. 

The geese paused in front of him, and all bowed their heads many times, looking so grave that he had to doff his cap and make an obeisance tothem. 

"The fact is, " said Akka, "we old geese have been thinking that ifThumbietot had been in the service of human beings and had done as muchfor them as he has for us they would not let him go without rewardinghim well. "

"I haven't helped you; it is you who have taken good care of me, "returned the boy. 

"We think also, " continued Akka, "that when a human being has attendedus on a whole journey he shouldn't be allowed to leave us as poor aswhen he came. "

"I know that what I have learned this year with you is worth more to methan gold or lands, " said the boy. 

"Since these gold coins have been lying unclaimed in the cleft all theseyears, I think that you ought to have them, " declared the wild goose. 

"I thought you said something about needing this money yourselves, "reminded the boy. 

"We do need it, so as to be able to give you such recompense as willmake your mother and father think you have been working as a goose boywith worthy people. "

The boy turned half round and cast a glance toward the sea, then facedabout and looked straight into Akka's bright eyes. 

"I think it strange, Mother Akka, that you turn me away from yourservice like this and pay me off before I have given you notice, " hesaid. 

"As long as we wild geese remain in Sweden, I trust that you will staywith us, " said Akka. "I only wanted to show you where the treasure waswhile we could get to it without going too far out of our course. "

"All the same it looks as if you wished to be rid of me before I want togo, " argued Thumbietot. "After all the good times we have had together, I think you ought to let me go abroad with you. "

When the boy said this, Akka and the other wild geese stretched theirlong necks straight up and stood a moment, with bills half open, drinking in air. 

"That is something I haven't thought about, " said Akka, when sherecovered herself. "Before you decide to come with us, we had betterhear what Gorgo has to say. You may as well know that when we leftLapland the agreement between Gorgo and myself was that he should travelto your home down in Skåne to try to make better terms for you with theelf. "

"That is true, " affirmed Gorgo, "but as I have already told you, luckwas against me. I soon hunted up Holger Nilsson's croft and aftercircling up and down over the place a couple of hours, I caught sight ofthe elf, skulking along between the sheds. 

"Immediately I swooped down upon him and flew off with him to a meadowwhere we could talk together without interruption. 

"I told him that I had been sent by Akka from Kebnekaise to ask if hecouldn't give Nils Holgersson easier terms. 

"'I only wish I could!' he answered, 'for I have heard that he hasconducted himself well on the trip; but it is not in my power to do so. '

"Then I was wrathy and said that I would bore out his eyes unless hegave in. 

"'You may do as you like, ' he retorted, 'but as to Nils Holgersson, itwill turn out exactly as I have said. You can tell him from me that hewould do well to return soon with his goose, for matters on the farm arein a bad shape. His father has had to forfeit a bond for his brother, whom he trusted. He has bought a horse with borrowed money, and thebeast went lame the first time he drove it. Since then it has been of noearthly use to him. Tell Nils Holgersson that his parents have had tosell two of the cows and that they must give up the croft unless theyreceive help from somewhere. "

When the boy heard this he frowned and clenched his fists so hard thatthe nails dug into his flesh. 

"It is cruel of the elf to make the conditions so hard for me that I cannot go home and relieve my parents, but he sha'n't turn me into atraitor to a friend! My father and mother are square and upright folk. Iknow they would rather forfeit my help than have me come back to themwith a guilty conscience. "

THE JOURNEY TO VEMMINGHÖG

_Thursday, November third_. 

One day in the beginning of November the wild geese flew over HallandRidge and into Skåne. For several weeks they had been resting on thewide plains around Falköping. As many other wild goose flocks alsostopped there, the grown geese had had a pleasant time visiting with oldfriends, and there had been all kinds of games and races between theyounger birds. 

Nils Holgersson had not been happy over the delay in Westergötland. Hehad tried to keep a stout heart; but it was hard for him to reconcilehimself to his fate. 

"If I were only well out of Skåne and in some foreign land, " he hadthought, "I should know for certain that I had nothing to hope for, andwould feel easier in my mind. "

Finally, one morning, the geese started out and flew toward Halland. 

In the beginning the boy took very little interest in that province. Hethought there was nothing new to be seen there. But when the wild geesecontinued the journey farther south, along the narrow coast-lands, theboy leaned over the goose's neck and did not take his glance from theground. 

He saw the hills gradually disappear and the plain spread under him, atthe same time he noticed that the coast became less rugged, while thegroup of islands beyond thinned and finally vanished and the broad, opensea came clear up to firm land. Here there were no more forests: herethe plain was supreme. It spread all the way to the horizon. A land thatlay so exposed, with field upon field, reminded the boy of Skåne. Hefelt both happy and sad as he looked at it. 

"I can't be very far from home, " he thought. 

Many times during the trip the goslings had asked the old geese:

"How does it look in foreign lands?"

"Wait, wait! You shall soon see, " the old geese had answered. 

When the wild geese had passed Halland Ridge and gone a distance intoSkåne, Akka called out:

"Now look down! Look all around! It is like this in foreign lands. "

Just then they flew over Söder Ridge. The whole long range of hills wasclad in beech woods, and beautiful, turreted castles peeped out here andthere. 

Among the trees grazed roe-buck, and on the forest meadow romped thehares. Hunters' horns sounded from the forests; the loud baying of dogscould be heard all the way up to the wild geese. Broad avenues woundthrough the trees and on these ladies and gentlemen were driving inpolished carriages or riding fine horses. At the foot of the ridge layRing Lake with the ancient Bosjö Cloister on a narrow peninsula. 

"Does it look like this in foreign lands?" asked the goslings. 

"It looks exactly like this wherever there are forest-clad ridges, "replied Akka, "only one doesn't see many of them. Wait! You shall seehow it looks in general. "

Akka led the geese farther south to the great Skåne plain. There itspread, with grain fields; with acres and acres of sugar beets, wherethe beet-pickers were at work; with low whitewashed farm- and outhouses;with numberless little white churches; with ugly, gray sugar refineriesand small villages near the railway stations. Little beech-encircledmeadow lakes, each of them adorned by its own stately manor, shimmeredhere and there. 

"Now look down! Look carefully!" called the leader-goose. "Thus it is inforeign lands, from the Baltic coast all the way down to the high Alps. Farther than that I have never travelled. "

When the goslings had seen the plain, the leader-goose flew down theÖresund coast. Swampy meadows sloped gradually toward the sea. In someplaces were high, steep banks, in others drift-sand fields, where thesand lay heaped in banks and hills. Fishing hamlets stood all along thecoast, with long rows of low, uniform brick houses, with a lighthouse atthe edge of the breakwater, and brown fishing nets hanging in the dryingyard. 

"Now look down! Look well! This is how it looks along the coasts inforeign lands. "

After Akka had been flying about in this manner a long time she alightedsuddenly on a marsh in Vemminghög township and the boy could not helpthinking that she had travelled over Skåne just to let him see that hiswas a country which could compare favourably with any in the world. Thiswas unnecessary, for the boy was not thinking of whether the country wasrich or poor. 

From the moment that he had seen the first willow grove his heart achedwith homesickness. 

HOME AT LAST

_Tuesday, November eighth_. 

The atmosphere was dull and hazy. The wild geese had been feeding on thebig meadow around Skerup church and were having their noonday rest whenAkka came up to the boy. 

"It looks as if we should have calm weather for awhile, " she remarked, "and I think we'll cross the Baltic to-morrow. "

"Indeed!" said the boy abruptly, for his throat contracted so that hecould hardly speak. All along he had cherished the hope that he would bereleased from the enchantment while he was still in Skåne. 

"We are quite near West Vemminghög now, " said Akka, "and I thought thatperhaps you might like to go home for awhile. It may be some time beforeyou have another opportunity to see your people. "

"Perhaps I had better not, " said the boy hesitatingly, but something inhis voice betrayed that he was glad of Akka's proposal. 

"If the goosey-gander remains with us, no harm can come to him, " Akkaassured. "I think you had better find out how your parents are gettingalong. You might be of some help to them, even if you're not a normalboy. "

"You are right, Mother Akka. I should have thought of that long ago, "said the boy impulsively. 

The next second he and the leader-goose were on their way to his home. It was not long before Akka alighted behind the stone hedge encirclingthe little farm. 

"Strange how natural everything looks around here!" the boy remarked, quickly clambering to the top of the hedge, so that he could look about. 

"It seems to me only yesterday that I first saw you come flying throughthe air. "

"I wonder if your father has a gun, " said Akka suddenly. 

"You may be sure he has, " returned the boy. "It was just the gun thatkept me at home that Sunday morning when I should have been at church. "

"Then I don't dare to stand here and wait for you, " said Akka. "You hadbetter meet us at Smygahök early to-morrow morning, so that you may stayat home over night. "

"Oh, don't go yet, Mother Akka!" begged the boy, jumping from the hedge. 

He could not tell just why it was, but he felt as if something wouldhappen, either to the wild goose or to himself, to prevent their futuremeeting. 

"No doubt you see that I'm distressed because I cannot get back myright form; but I want to say to you that I don't regret having gonewith you last spring, " he added. "I would rather forfeit the chance ofever being human again than to have missed that trip. "

Akka breathed quickly before she answered. 

"There's a little matter I should have mentioned to you before this, butsince you are not going back to your home for good, I thought there wasno hurry about it. Still it may as well be said now. "

"You know very well that I am always glad to do your bidding, " said theboy. 

"If you have learned anything at all from us, Thumbietot, you no longerthink that the humans should have the whole earth to themselves, " saidthe wild goose, solemnly. "Remember you have a large country and you caneasily afford to leave a few bare rocks, a few shallow lakes and swamps, a few desolate cliffs and remote forests to us poor, dumb creatures, where we can be allowed to live in peace. All my days I have beenhounded and hunted. It would be a comfort to know that there is a refugesomewhere for one like me. "

"Indeed, I should be glad to help if I could, " said the boy, "but it'snot likely that I shall ever again have any influence among humanbeings. "

"Well, we're standing here talking as if we were never to meet again, "said Akka, "but we shall see each other to-morrow, of course. Now I'llreturn to my flock. "

She spread her wings and started to fly, but came back and strokedThumbietot up and down with her bill before she flew away. 

It was broad daylight, but no human being moved on the farm and the boycould go where he pleased. He hastened to the cow shed, because he knewthat he could get the best information from the cows. 

It looked rather barren in their shed. In the spring there had beenthree fine cows there, but now there was only one--Mayrose. It was quiteapparent that she yearned for her comrades. Her head drooped sadly, andshe had hardly touched the feed in her crib. 

"Good day, Mayrose!" said the boy, running fearlessly into her stall. 

"How are mother and father? How are the cat and the chickens? What hasbecome of Star and Gold-Lily?"

When Mayrose heard the boy's voice she started, and appeared as if shewere going to gore him. But she was not so quick-tempered now asformerly, and took time to look well at Nils Holgersson. 

He was just as little now as when he went away, and wore the sameclothes; yet he was completely changed. The Nils Holgersson that wentaway in the spring had a heavy, slow gait, a drawling speech, and sleepyeyes. The one that had come back was lithe and alert, ready of speech, and had eyes that sparkled and danced. He had a confident bearing thatcommanded respect, little as he was. Although he himself did not lookhappy, he inspired happiness in others. 

"Moo!" bellowed Mayrose. "They told me that he was changed, but Icouldn't believe it. Welcome home, Nils Holgersson! Welcome home! Thisis the first glad moment I have known for ever so long!"

"Thank you, Mayrose!" said the boy, who was very happy to be so wellreceived. 

"Now tell me all about father and mother. "

"They have had nothing but hardship ever since you went away, " saidMayrose. "The horse has been a costly care all summer, for he has stoodin the stable the whole time and not earned his feed. Your father is toosoft-hearted to shoot him and he can't sell him. It was on account ofthe horse that both Star and Gold-Lily had to be sold. "

There was something else the boy wanted badly to know, but he wasdiffident about asking the question point blank. Therefore he said:

"Mother must have felt very sorry when she discovered that MortenGoosey-Gander had flown?"

"She wouldn't have worried much about Morten Goosey-Gander had sheknown the way he came to leave. She grieves most at the thought of herson having run away from home with a goosey-gander. "

"Does she really think that I _stole_ the goosey-gander?" said the boy. 

"What else could she think?"

"Father and mother must fancy that I've been roaming about the country, like a common tramp?"

"They think that you've gone to the dogs, " said Mayrose. "They havemourned you as one mourns the loss of the dearest thing on earth. "

As soon as the boy heard this, he rushed from the cow shed and down tothe stable. 

It was small, but clean and tidy. Everything showed that his father hadtried to make the place comfortable for the new horse. In the stallstood a strong, fine animal that looked well fed and well cared for. 

"Good day to you!" said the boy. "I have heard that there's a sick horsein here. Surely it can't be you, who look so healthy and strong. "

The horse turned his head and stared fixedly at the boy. 

"Are you the son?" he queried. "I have heard many bad reports of him. But you have such a good face, I couldn't believe that you were he, didI not know that he was transformed into an elf. "

"I know that I left a bad name behind me when I went away from thefarm, " admitted Nils Holgersson. "My own mother thinks I am a thief. Butwhat matters it--I sha'n't tarry here long. Meanwhile, I want to knowwhat ails you. "

"Pity you're not going to stay, " said the horse, "for I have the feelingthat you and I might become good friends. I've got something in myfoot--the point of a knife, or something sharp--that's all that ails me. It has gone so far in that the doctor can't find it, but it cuts so thatI can't walk. If you would only tell your father what's wrong with me, I'm sure that he could help me. I should like to be of some use. Ireally feel ashamed to stand here and feed without doing any work. "

"It's well that you have no real illness, " remarked Nils Holgersson. "Imust attend to this at once, so that you will be all right again. Youdon't mind if I do a little scratching on your hoof with my knife, doyou?"

Nils Holgersson had just finished, when he heard the sound of voices. Heopened the stable door a little and peeped out. 

His father and mother were coming down the lane. It was easy to see thatthey were broken by many sorrows. His mother had many lines on her faceand his father's hair had turned gray. She was talking with him aboutgetting a loan from her brother-in-law. 

"No, I don't want to borrow any more money, " his father said, as theywere passing the stable. "There's nothing quite so hard as being indebt. It would be better to sell the cabin. "

"If it were not for the boy, I shouldn't mind selling it, " his motherdemurred. "But what will become of him, if he returns some day, wretchedand poor--as he's likely to be--and we not here?"

"You're right about that, " the father agreed. "But we shall have to askthe folks who take the place to receive him kindly and to let him knowthat he's welcome back to us. We sha'n't say a harsh word to him, nomatter what he may be, shall we mother?"

"No, indeed! If I only had him again, so that I could be certain he isnot starving and freezing on the highways, I'd ask nothing more!"

Then his father and mother went in, and the boy heard no more of theirconversation. 

He was happy and deeply moved when he knew that they loved him sodearly, although they believed he had gone astray. He longed to rushinto their arms. 

"But perhaps it would be an even greater sorrow were they to see me as Inow am. "

While he stood there, hesitating, a cart drove up to the gate. The boysmothered a cry of surprise, for who should step from the cart and gointo the house yard but Osa, the goose girl, and her father!

They walked hand in hand toward the cabin. When they were about halfway there, Osa stopped her father and said:

"Now remember, father, you are not to mention the wooden shoe or thegeese or the little brownie who was so like Nils Holgersson that if itwas not himself it must have had some connection with him. "

"Certainly not!" said Jon Esserson. "I shall only say that their son hasbeen of great help to you on several occasions--when you were trying tofind me--and that therefore we have come to ask if we can't do them aservice in return, since I'm a rich man now and have more than I need, thanks to the mine I discovered up in Lapland. "

"I know, father, that you can say the right thing in the right way, " Osacommended. "It is only that one particular thing that I don't wish youto mention. "

They went into the cabin, and the boy would have liked to hear what theytalked about in there; but he dared not venture near the house. It wasnot long before they came out again, and his father and motheraccompanied them as far as the gate. 

His parents were strangely happy. They appeared to have gained a newhold on life. 

When the visitors were gone, father and mother lingered at the gategazing after them. 

"I don't feel unhappy any longer, since I've heard so much that is goodof our Nils, " said his mother. 

"Perhaps he got more praise than he really deserved, " put in his fatherthoughtfully. 

"Wasn't it enough for you that they came here specially to say theywanted to help us because our Nils had served them in many ways? Ithink, father, that you should have accepted their offer. "

"No, mother, I don't wish to accept money from any one, either as a giftor a loan. In the first place I want to free myself from all debt, thenwe will work our way up again. We're not so very old, are we, mother?"The father laughed heartily as he said this. 

"I believe you think it will be fun to sell this place, upon which wehave expended such a lot of time and hard work, " protested the mother. 

"Oh, you know why I'm laughing, " the father retorted. "It was thethought of the boy's having gone to the bad that weighed me down until Ihad no strength or courage left in me. Now that I know he still livesand has turned out well, you'll see that Holger Nilsson has some gritleft. "

The mother went in alone, and the boy made haste to hide in a corner, for his father walked into the stable. He went over to the horse andexamined its hoof, as usual, to try to discover what was wrong with it. 

"What's this!" he cried, discovering some letters scratched on thehoof. 

"Remove the sharp piece of iron from the foot, " he read and glancedaround inquiringly. However, he ran his fingers along the under side ofthe hoof and looked at it carefully. 

"I verily believe there is something sharp here!" he said. 

While his father was busy with the horse and the boy sat huddled in acorner, it happened that other callers came to the farm. 

The fact was that when Morten Goosey-Gander found himself so near hisold home he simply could not resist the temptation of showing his wifeand children to his old companions on the farm. So he took Dunfin andthe goslings along, and made for home. 

There was not a soul in the barn yard when the goosey-gander came along. He alighted, confidently walked all around the place, and showed Dunfinhow luxuriously he had lived when he was a tame goose. 

When they had viewed the entire farm, he noticed that the door of thecow shed was open. 

"Look in here a moment, " he said, "then you will see how I lived informer days. It was very different from camping in swamps and morasses, as we do now. "

The goosey-gander stood in the doorway and looked into the cow shed. 

"There's not a soul in here, " he said. "Come along, Dunfin, and youshall see the goose pen. Don't be afraid; there's no danger. "

Forthwith the goosey-gander, Dunfin, and all six goslings waddled intothe goose pen, to have a look at the elegance and comfort in which thebig white gander had lived before he joined the wild geese. 

"This is the way it used to be: here was my place and over there was thetrough, which was always filled with oats and water, " explained thegoosey-gander. 

"Wait! there's some fodder in it now. " With that he rushed to the troughand began to gobble up the oats. 

But Dunfin was nervous. 

"Let's go out again!" she said. 

"Only two more grains, " insisted the goosey-gander. The next second helet out a shriek and ran for the door, but it was too late! The doorslammed, the mistress stood without and bolted it. They were locked in!

The father had removed a sharp piece of iron from the horse's hoof andstood contentedly stroking the animal when the mother came running intothe stable. 

"Come, father, and see the capture I've made!"

"No, wait a minute!" said the father. "Look here, first. I havediscovered what ailed the horse. "

"I believe our luck has turned, " said the mother. "Only fancy! the bigwhite goosey-gander that disappeared last spring must have gone off withthe wild geese. He has come back to us in company with seven wild geese. They walked straight into the goose pen, and I've shut them all in. "

"That's extraordinary, " remarked the father. "But best of all is that wedon't have to think any more that our boy stole the goosey-gander whenhe went away. "

"You're quite right, father, " she said. "But I'm afraid we'll have tokill them to-night. In two days is Morten Gooseday[1] and we must makehaste if we expect to get them to market in time. "

[Footnote 1: In Sweden the 10th of November is called Morten Goosedayand corresponds to the American Thanksgiving Day. ]

"I think it would be outrageous to butcher the goosey-gander, now thathe has returned to us with such a large family, " protested HolgerNilsson. 

"If times were easier we'd let him live; but since we're going to movefrom here, we can't keep geese. Come along now and help me carry theminto the kitchen, " urged the mother. 

They went out together and in a few moments the boy saw his fathercoming along with Morten Goosey-Gander and Dunfin--one under each arm. He and his wife went into the cabin. 

The goosey-gander cried:

"Thumbietot, come and help me!"--as he always did when inperil--although he was not aware that the boy was at hand. 

Nils Holgersson heard him, yet he lingered at the door of the cow shed. 

He did not hesitate because he knew that it would be well for him if thegoosey-gander were beheaded--at that moment he did not even rememberthis--but because he shrank from being seen by his parents. 

"They have a hard enough time of it already, " he thought. "Must I bringthem a new sorrow?"

But when the door closed on the goosey-gander, the boy was aroused. 

He dashed across the house yard, sprang up on the board-walk leading tothe entrance door and ran into the hallway, where he kicked off hiswooden shoes in the old accustomed way, and walked toward the door. 

All the while it went so much against the grain to appear before hisfather and mother that he could not raise his hand to knock. 

"But this concerns the life of the goosey-gander, " he said tohimself--"he who has been my best friend ever since I last stood here. "

In a twinkling the boy remembered all that he and the goosey-gander hadsuffered on ice-bound lakes and stormy seas and among wild beasts ofprey. His heart swelled with gratitude; he conquered himself and knockedon the door. 

"Is there some one who wishes to come in?" asked his father, opening thedoor. 

"Mother, you sha'n't touch the goosey-gander!" cried the boy. 

Instantly both the goosey-gander and Dunfin, who lay on a bench withtheir feet tied, gave a cry of joy, so that he was sure they were alive. 

Some one else gave a cry of joy--his _mother_!

"My, but you have grown tall and handsome!" she exclaimed. 

The boy had not entered the cabin, but was standing on the doorstep, like one who is not quite certain how he will be received. 

"The Lord be praised that I have you back again!" said his mother, laughing and crying. "Come in, my boy! Come in!"

"Welcome!" added his father, and not another word could he utter. 

But the boy still lingered at the threshold. He could not comprehend whythey were so glad to see him--such as he was. Then his mother came andput her arms around him and drew him into the room, and he knew that hewas all right. 

"Mother and father!" he cried. "I'm a big boy. I am a human beingagain!"

THE PARTING WITH THE WILD GEESE

_Wednesday, November ninth_. 

The boy arose before dawn and wandered down to the coast. He wasstanding alone on the strand east of Smyge fishing hamlet beforesunrise. He had already been in the pen with Morten Goosey-Gander to tryto rouse him, but the big white gander had no desire to leave home. Hedid not say a word, but only stuck his bill under his wing and went tosleep again. 

To all appearances the weather promised to be almost as perfect as ithad been that spring day when the wild geese came to Skåne. There washardly a ripple on the water; the air was still and the boy thought ofthe good passage the geese would have. He himself was as yet in a kindof daze--sometimes thinking he was an elf, sometimes a human being. Whenhe saw a stone hedge alongside the road, he was afraid to go fartheruntil he had made sure that no wild animal or vulture lurked behind it. Very soon he laughed to himself and rejoiced because he was big andstrong and did not have to be afraid of anything. 

When he reached the coast he stationed himself, big as he was, at thevery edge of the strand, so that the wild geese could see him. 

It was a busy day for the birds of passage. Bird calls sounded on theair continuously. The boy smiled as he thought that no one but himselfunderstood what the birds were saying to one another. Presently wildgeese came flying; one big flock following another. 

"Just so it's not my geese that are going away without bidding mefarewell, " he thought. He wanted so much to tell them how everything hadturned out, and to show them that he was no longer an elf but a humanbeing. 

There came a flock that flew faster and cackled louder than the others, and something told him that this must be _the_ flock, but now he was notquite so sure about it as he would have been the day before. 

The flock slackened its flight and circled up and down along the coast. 

The boy knew it was the right one, but he could not understand why thegeese did not come straight down to him. They could not avoid seeing himwhere he stood. He tried to give a call that would bring them down tohim, but only think! his tongue would not obey him. He could not makethe right sound! He heard Akka's calls, but did not understand what shesaid. 

"What can this mean? Have the wild geese changed their language?" hewondered. 

He waved his cap to them and ran along the shore calling. 

"Here am I, where are you?"

But this seemed only to frighten the geese. They rose and flew fartherout to sea. At last he understood. They did not know that he was human, had not recognized him. He could not call them to him because humanbeings can not speak the language of birds. He could not speak theirlanguage, nor could he understand it. 

Although the boy was very glad to be released from the enchantment, still he thought it hard that because of this he should be parted fromhis old comrades. 

He sat down on the sands and buried his face in his hands. What was theuse of his gazing after them any more?

Presently he heard the rustle of wings. Old mother Akka had found ithard to fly away from Thumbietot, and turned back, and now that the boysat quite still she ventured to fly nearer to him. Suddenly somethingmust have told her who he was, for she lit close beside him. 

Nils gave a cry of joy and took old Akka in his arms. The other wildgeese crowded round him and stroked him with their bills. They cackledand chattered and wished him all kinds of good luck, and he, too, talkedto them and thanked them for the wonderful journey which he had beenprivileged to make in their company. 

All at once the wild geese became strangely quiet and withdrew from him, as if to say:

"Alas! he is a man. He does not understand us: we do not understandhim!"

Then the boy rose and went over to Akka; he stroked her and patted her. He did the same to Yksi and Kaksi, Kolme and Neljä, Viisi and Kuusi--theold birds who had been his companions from the very start. 

After that he walked farther up the strand. He knew perfectly well thatthe sorrows of the birds do not last long, and he wanted to part withthem while they were still sad at losing him. 

As he crossed the shore meadows he turned and watched the many flocks ofbirds that were flying over the sea. All were shrieking their coaxingcalls--only one goose flock flew silently on as long as he could followit with his eyes. The wedge was perfect, the speed good, and the wingstrokes strong and certain. 

The boy felt such a yearning for his departing comrades that he almostwished he were Thumbietot again and could travel over land and sea witha flock of wild geese. 

TABLE OF PRONUNCIATION

The final _e_ is sounded in Skåne, Sirle, Gripe, etc. 

The _å_ in Skåne and Småland is pronounced like _o_ in ore. 

_j_ is like the English _y_. Nuolja, Oviksfjällen, Sjangeli, Jarro, etc. , should sound as if they were spelled like this: Nuolya, Oviksfyellen, Syang [one syllable] elee, Yarro, etc. 

_g_, when followed by _e, i, y, ä, ö_, is also like _y_. Example, Götais pronounced Yöta. 

When _g_ is followed by _a, o, u_, or _å_, it is hard, as in go. 

_k_ in Norrköping, Linköping, Kivik (pronounced Cheeveek), etc. , is like_ch_ in cheer. 

_k_ is hard when it precedes _a, o, u_, or _å_. Example, Kaksi, Kolmi, etc. 

_ä_ is pronounced like _ä_ in fare. Example, Färs. 

There is no sound in the English language which corresponds to theSwedish _ö_. It is like the French _eu_ in jeu. 

Gripe is pronounced Greep-e. 

In Sirle, the first syllable has the same sound as _sir_, in sirup. 

The names which Miss Lagerlöf has given to the animals are descriptive. 

Smirre Fox, is cunning fox. 

Sirle Squirrel, is graceful, or nimble squirrel. 

Gripe Otter, means grabbing or clutching otter. 

Mons is a pet name applied to cats; like our tommy or pussy. Monsiehouse-cat is equivalent to Tommy house-cat. 

Mårten gåskarl (Morten Goosie-gander) is a pet name for a tame gander, just as we use Dickie-bird for a pet bird. 

Fru is the Swedish for Mrs. This title is usually applied to gentlewomenonly. The author has used this meaning of "fru. "

A Goa-Nisse is an elf-king, and corresponds to the English Puck or RobinGoodfellow. 

VELMA SWANSTON HOWARD.