_Sunday, April third_.
The wild geese went out on a wooded island to feed. There they happened
to run across a few gray geese, who were surprised to see them--since
they knew very well that their kinsmen, the wild geese, usually travel
over the interior of the country.
They were curious and inquisitive, and wouldn't be satisfied with less
than that the wild geese should tell them all about the persecution
which they had to endure from Smirre Fox. When they had finished, a
gray 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 an
outlaw in his own land. He'll be sure to keep his word, and follow you
all the way up to Lapland. If I were in your place, I shouldn't travel
north 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. There
you'll find lots of food and lots of company. I don't believe you'll
regret it, if you go over there."
It was certainly very sensible advice, and the wild geese concluded to
follow it. As soon as they had eaten all they could hold, they started
on the trip to Öland. None of them had ever been there before, but the
gray goose had given them excellent directions. They only had to travel
direct south until they came to a large bird-track, which extended all
along the Blekinge coast. All the birds who had winter residences by the
West sea, and who now intended to travel to Finland and Russia, flew
forward there--and, in passing, they were always in the habit of
stopping at Öland to rest. The wild geese would have no trouble in
finding guides.
That day it was perfectly still and warm--like a summer's day--the best
weather in the world for a sea trip. The only grave thing about it was
that it was not quite clear, for the sky was gray and veiled. Here and
there were enormous mist-clouds which hung way down to the sea's outer
edge, and obstructed the view.
When the travellers had gotten away from the wooded island, the sea
spread itself so smooth and mirror-like, that the boy as he looked down
thought the water had disappeared. There was no longer any earth under
him. He had nothing but mist and sky around him. He grew very dizzy, and
held himself tight on the goose-back, more frightened than when he sat
there for the first time. It seemed as though he couldn't possibly hold
on; he must fall in some direction.
It was even worse when they reached the big bird-track, of which the
gray goose had spoken. Actually, there came flock after flock flying in
exactly the same direction. They seemed to follow a fixed route. There
were ducks and gray geese, surf-scoters and guillemots, loons and
pin-tail ducks and mergansers and grebes and oyster-catchers and
sea-grouse. But now, when the boy leaned forward, and looked in the
direction where the sea ought to lie, he saw the whole bird procession
reflected in the water. But he was so dizzy that he didn't understand
how this had come about: he thought that the whole bird procession flew
with 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 shrieked
or 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 it
as reasonable that they were travelling heaven-ward. He was glad, and
wondered 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 to
heaven and was leaving this earth.
Just about then he heard a couple of loud shots, and saw two white
smoke-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 over
the sea-coast, and that they certainly were not in heaven. In a long row
lay small boats filled with hunters, who fired shot upon shot. The
nearest 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 that
fell, there arose cries of anguish from the living.
It was strange for one who had but lately believed himself in heaven, to
wake up suddenly to such fear and lamentation. Akka shot toward the
heights as fast as she could, and the flock followed with the greatest
possible speed. The wild geese got safely out of the way, but the boy
couldn't get over his amazement. "To think that anyone could wish to
shoot upon such as Akka and Yksi and Kaksi and the goosey-gander and the
others! Human beings had no conception of what they did."
So it bore on again, in the still air, and everything was as quiet as
heretofore--with the exception that some of the tired birds called out
every now and then: "Are we not there soon? Are you sure we're on the
right track?" Hereupon, those who flew in the centre answered: "We are
flying straight to Öland; straight to Öland."
The gray geese were tired out, and the loons flew around them. "Don't be
in such a rush!" cried the ducks. "You'll eat up all the food before we
get there." "Oh! there'll be enough for both you and us," answered the
loons.
Before they had gotten so far that they saw Öland, there came a light
wind against them. It brought with it something that resembled immense
clouds of white smoke--just as if there was a big fire somewhere.
When the birds saw the first white spiral haze, they became uneasy and
increased their speed. But that which resembled smoke blew thicker and
thicker, and at last it enveloped them altogether. They smelled no
smoke; and the smoke was not dark and dry, but white and damp. Suddenly
the boy understood that it was nothing but a mist.
When the mist became so thick that one couldn't see a goose-length
ahead, the birds began to carry on like real lunatics. All these, who
before had travelled forward in such perfect order, began to play in the
mist. They flew hither and thither, to entice one another astray. "Be
careful!" they cried. "You're only travelling round and round. Turn
back, 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 their
best to lead each other astray. "Look at those wagtails!" rang out in
the mist. "They are going back toward the North Sea!" "Have a care, wild
geese!" shrieked someone from another direction. "If you continue like
this, you'll get clear up to Rügen."
There was, of course, no danger that the birds who were accustomed to
travel 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 jesters
observed that they were uncertain as to the way, and did all they could
to confuse them.
"Where do you intend to go, good people?" called a swan. He came right
up to Akka, and looked sympathetic and serious.
"We shall travel to Öland; but we have never been there before," said
Akka. She thought that this was a bird to be trusted.
"It's too bad," said the swan. "They have lured you in the wrong
direction. You're on the road to Blekinge. Now come with me, and I'll
put you right!"
And so he flew off with them; and when he had taken them so far away
from the track that they heard no calls, he disappeared in the mist.
They flew around for a while at random. They had barely succeeded in
finding the birds again, when a duck approached them. "It's best that
you lie down on the water until the mist clears," said the duck. "It is
evident that you are not accustomed to look out for yourselves on
journeys."
Those rogues succeeded in making Akka's head swim. As near as the boy
could 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 a
loon as he rushed by. The boy positively clutched the goosey-gander
around 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 a
rolling and muffled sound in the distance.
Then Akka craned her neck, snapped hard with her wings, and rushed on at
full speed. Now she had something to go by. The gray goose had told her
not to light on Öland's southern point, because there was a cannon
there, which the people used to shoot the mist with. Now she knew the
way, and now no one in the world should lead her astray again.