KARLSKRONA

_Saturday, April second_.

It was a moonlight evening in Karlskrona--calm and beautiful. But

earlier in the day, there had been rain and wind; and the people must

have thought that the bad weather still continued, for hardly one of

them had ventured out on the streets.

While the city lay there so desolate, Akka, the wild goose, and her

flock, came flying toward it over Vemmön and Pantarholmen. They were out

in the late evening to seek a sleeping place on the islands. They

couldn't remain inland because they were disturbed by Smirre Fox

wherever they lighted.

When the boy rode along high up in the air, and looked at the sea and

the islands which spread themselves before him, he thought that

everything appeared so strange and spook-like. The heavens were no

longer blue, but encased him like a globe of green glass. The sea was

milk-white, and as far as he could see rolled small white waves tipped

with silver ripples. In the midst of all this white lay numerous little

islets, absolutely coal black. Whether they were big or little, whether

they were as even as meadows, or full of cliffs, they looked just as

black. Even dwelling houses and churches and windmills, which at other

times 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 was

come to another world.

He thought that just for this one night he wanted to be brave, and not

afraid--when he saw something that really frightened him. It was a high

cliff island, which was covered with big, angular blocks; and between

the blocks shone specks of bright, shining gold. He couldn't keep from

thinking of Maglestone, by Trolle-Ljungby, which the trolls sometimes

raised upon high gold pillars; and he wondered if this was something

like that.

But with the stones and the gold it might have gone fairly well, if such

a lot of horrid things had not been lying all around the island. It

looked like whales and sharks and other big sea-monsters. But the boy

understood that it was the sea-trolls, who had gathered around the

island and intended to crawl up on it, to fight with the land-trolls who

lived there. And those on the land were probably afraid, for he saw how

a big giant stood on the highest point of the island and raised his

arms--as if in despair over all the misfortune that should come to him

and his island.

The boy was not a little terrified when he noticed that Akka began to

descend right over that particular island! "No, for pity's sake! We

must not light there," said he.

But the geese continued to descend, and soon the boy was astonished that

he could have seen things so awry. In the first place, the big stone

blocks were nothing but houses. The whole island was a city; and the

shining gold specks were street lamps and lighted window-panes. The

giant, who stood highest up on the island, and raised his arms, was a

church with two cross-towers; all the sea-trolls and monsters, which he

thought he had seen, were boats and ships of every description, that lay

anchored all around the island. On the side which lay toward the land

were mostly row-boats and sailboats and small coast steamers; but on the

side that faced the sea lay armour-clad battleships; some were broad,

with very thick, slanting smokestacks; others were long and narrow, and

so constructed that they could glide through the water like fishes.

Now what city might this be? That, the boy could figure out because he

saw all the battleships. All his life he had loved ships, although he

had had nothing to do with any, except the galleys which he had sailed

in the road ditches. He knew very well that this city--where so many

battleships lay--couldn't be any place but Karlskrona.

The boy's grandfather had been an old marine; and as long as he had

lived, 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 felt

perfectly at home, and he was glad that he should see all this of which

he had heard so much.

But he only had a glimpse of the towers and fortifications which barred

the entrance to the harbour, and the many buildings, and the

shipyard--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 a

fox, and the boy began to wonder if he couldn't venture to crawl in

under the goosey-gander's wing for this one night. Yes, that he might

safely do. It would do him good to get a little sleep. He should try to

see 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 wait

until the next morning to see the ships. He certainly had not slept five

minutes before he slipped out from under the wing and slid down the

lightning-rod and the waterspout all the way down to the ground.

Soon he stood on a big square which spread itself in front of the

church. It was covered with round stones, and was just as difficult for

him 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 the

country--always feel uneasy when they come into a city, where the houses

stand straight and forbidding, and the streets are open, so that

everyone can see who goes there. And it happened in the same way with

the boy. When he stood on the big Karlskrona square, and looked at the

German church, and town hall, and the cathedral from which he had just

descended, he couldn't do anything but wish that he was back on the

tower again with the geese.

It was a lucky thing that the square was entirely deserted. There wasn't

a human being about--unless he counted a statue that stood on a high

pedestal. The boy gazed long at the statue, which represented a big,

brawny man in a three-cornered hat, long waistcoat, knee-breeches and

coarse shoes, and wondered what kind of a one he was. He held a long

stick in his hand, and he looked as if he would know how to make use of

it, too--for he had an awfully severe countenance, with a big, hooked

nose and an ugly mouth.

"What is that long-lipped thing doing here?" said the boy at last. He

had never felt so small and insignificant as he did that night. He tried

to jolly himself up a bit by saying something audacious. Then he thought

no more about the statue, but betook himself to a wide street which led

down to the sea.

But the boy hadn't gone far before he heard that someone was following

him. Someone was walking behind him, who stamped on the stone pavement

with heavy footsteps, and pounded on the ground with a hard stick. It

sounded as if the bronze man up in the square had gone out for a

promenade.

The boy listened after the steps, while he ran down the street, and he

became more and more convinced that it was the bronze man. The ground

trembled, and the houses shook. It couldn't be anyone but he, who walked

so heavily, and the boy grew panic-stricken when he thought of what he

had just said to him. He did not dare to turn his head to find out if it

really 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 were

not at all badly meant."

Instead of going straight on, and trying to get down to the dock, the

boy turned into a side street which led east. First and foremost, he

wanted to get away from the one who tramped after him.

But the next instant he heard that the bronze man had switched off to

the same street; and then the boy was so scared that he didn't know what

he would do with himself. And how hard it was to find any hiding places

in a city where all the gates were closed! Then he saw on his right an

old frame church, which lay a short distance away from the street in the

centre of a large grove. Not an instant did he pause to consider, but

rushed on toward the church. "If I can only get there, then I'll surely

be shielded from all harm," thought he.

As he ran forward, he suddenly caught sight of a man who stood on a

gravel path and beckoned to him. "There is certainly someone who will

help me!" thought the boy; he became intensely happy, and hurried off in

that direction. He was actually so frightened that the heart of him

fairly 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't

have been that one who beckoned to me!" thought he; for he saw that the

entire 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 wooden

knee-breeches and wooden stockings; and on his feet black wooden shoes.

He was newly painted and newly varnished, so that he glistened and shone

in the moonlight. This undoubtedly had a good deal to do with giving him

such a good-natured appearance, that the boy at once placed confidence

in 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 now

he remembered that grandpa had also spoken of the wooden man, and said

that all the children in Karlskrona were so fond of him. And that must

have 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 to

be many hundred years old; and at the same time, he looked so strong and

bold, and animated--just as one might imagine that folks looked in olden

times.

The boy had so much fun looking at the wooden man, that he entirely

forgot the one from whom he was fleeing. But now he heard him. He turned

from 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 his

big, 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 him

to his hat--and stuck him under it.

The boy was just hidden, and the wooden man had just gotten his arm in

its right place again, when the bronze man stopped in front of him and

banged the stick on the ground, so that the wooden man shook on his

pedestal. 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's

leave. 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 "Your

Majesty." For now, when he thought about it, he knew that the statue on

the square represented the one who had founded the city. It was probably

no less an one than Charles the Eleventh himself, whom he had

encountered.

"He gives a good account of himself," said the bronze man. "Can he also

tell me if he has seen a little brat who runs around in the city

to-night? He's an impudent rascal, if I get hold of him, I'll teach him

manners!" With that, he again pounded on the ground with his stick, and

looked fearfully angry.

"By Your Majesty's leave, I have seen him," said the wooden man; and the

boy was so scared that he commenced to shake where he sat under the hat

and looked at the bronze man through a crack in the wood. But he calmed

down when the wooden man continued: "Your Majesty is on the wrong track.

That youngster certainly intended to run into the shipyard, and conceal

himself there."

"Does he say so, Rosenbom? Well then, don't stand still on the pedestal

any longer but come with me and help me find him. Four eyes are better

than two, Rosenbom."

But the wooden man answered in a doleful voice: "I would most humbly beg

to be permitted to stay where I am. I look well and sleek because of the

paint, but I'm old and mouldy, and cannot stand moving about."

The bronze man was not one of those who liked to be contradicted. "What

sort of notions are these? Come along, Rosenbom!" Then he raised his

stick and gave the other one a resounding whack on the shoulder. "Does

Rosenbom not see that he holds together?"

With that they broke off and walked forward on the streets of

Karlskrona--large and mighty--until they came to a high gate, which led

to the shipyard. Just outside and on guard walked one of the navy's

jack-tars, but the bronze man strutted past him and kicked the gate open

without the jack-tar's pretending to notice it.

As soon as they had gotten into the shipyard, they saw before them a

wide, expansive harbor separated by pile-bridges. In the different

harbour basins, lay the warships, which looked bigger, and more

awe-inspiring close to, like this, than lately, when the boy had seen

them from up above. "Then it wasn't so crazy after all, to imagine that

they were sea-trolls," thought he.

"Where does Rosenbom think it most advisable for us to begin the

search?" said the bronze man.

"Such an one as he could most easily conceal himself in the hall of

models," replied the wooden man.

On a narrow land-strip which stretched to the right from the gate, all

along the harbour, lay ancient structures. The bronze man walked over to

a building with low walls, small windows, and a conspicuous roof. He

pounded on the door with his stick until it burst open; and tramped up a

pair of worn-out steps. Soon they came into a large hall, which was

filled with tackled and full-rigged little ships. The boy understood

without being told, that these were models for the ships which had been

built 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 and

aft, and their masts weighed down with a network of sails and ropes.

There were small island-boats with rowing-benches along the sides; there

were undecked cannon sloops and richly gilded frigates, which were

models of the ones the kings had used on their travels. Finally, there

were also the heavy, broad armour-plated ships with towers and cannon

on deck--such as are in use nowadays; and narrow, shining torpedo boats

which resembled long, slender fishes.

When the boy was carried around among all this, he was awed. "Fancy that

such big, splendid ships have been built here in Sweden!" he thought to

himself.

He had plenty of time to see all that was to be seen in there; for when

the bronze man saw the models, he forgot everything else. He examined

them all, from the first to the last, and asked about them. And

Rosenbom, the boatswain on the _Dristigheten_, told as much as he knew

of the ships' builders, and of those who had manned them; and of the

fates they had met. He told them about Chapman and Puke and Trolle; of

Hoagland and Svensksund--all the way along until 1809--after that he had

not been there.

Both he and the bronze man had the most to say about the fine old wooden

ships. The new battleships they didn't exactly appear to understand.

"I can hear that Rosenbom doesn't know anything about these new-fangled

things," said the bronze man. "Therefore, let us go and look at

something else; for this amuses me, Rosenbom."

By this time he had entirely given up his search for the boy, who felt

calm and secure where he sat in the wooden hat.

Thereupon both men wandered through the big establishment: sail-making

shops, anchor smithy, machine and carpenter shops. They saw the mast

sheers and the docks; the large magazines, the arsenal, the rope-bridge

and the big discarded dock, which had been blasted in the rock. They

went 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 they

had laboured and struggled in this place, to equip the navies which had

gone out from here. He heard how life and blood had been risked; how the

last penny had been sacrificed to build the warships; how skilled men

had strained all their powers, in order to perfect these ships which

had been their fatherland's safeguard. A couple of times the tears came

to the boy's eyes, as he heard all this.

And the very last, they went into an open court, where the galley models

of old men-of-war were grouped; and a more remarkable sight the boy had

never beheld; for these models had inconceivably powerful and

terror-striking faces. They were big, fearless and savage: filled with

the same proud spirit that had fitted out the great ships. They were

from another time than his. He thought that he shrivelled up before

them.

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 all

fought for the fatherland."

And Rosenbom--like the bronze man--had forgotten why they had begun this

tramp. Without thinking, he lifted the wooden hat from his head and

shouted:

"I take off my hat to the one who chose the harbour and founded the

shipyard and recreated the navy; to the monarch who has awakened all

this into life!"

"Thanks, Rosenbom! That was well spoken. Rosenbom is a fine man. But

what is this, Rosenbom?"

For there stood Nils Holgersson, right on the top of Rosenbom's bald

pate. 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 never

learned what he had intended to do for now the sun ran up, and, at the

same time, both the bronze man and the wooden man vanished--as if they

had been made of mists. While he still stood and stared after them, the

wild geese flew up from the church tower, and swayed back and forth over

the city. Instantly they caught sight of Nils Holgersson; and then the

big white one darted down from the sky and fetched him.