The boy sat for a moment and looked down into the sea. Suddenly he
thought that it began to roar louder than ever. He looked up. Right in
front of him--only a couple of metres away--stood a rugged and bare
mountain-wall. At its base the waves dashed into a foaming spray. The
wild geese flew straight toward the cliff, and the boy did not see how
they could avoid being dashed to pieces against it. Hardly had he
wondered that Akka hadn't seen the danger in time, when they were over
by the mountain. Then he also noticed that in front of them was the
half-round entrance to a grotto. Into this the geese steered; and the
next moment they were safe.
The first thing the wild geese thought of--before they gave themselves
time to rejoice over their safety--was to see if all their comrades were
also harboured. Yes, there were Akka, Iksi, Kolmi, Nelja, Viisi, Knusi,
all the six goslings, the goosey-gander, Dunfin and Thumbietot; but
Kaksi from Nuolja, the first left-hand goose, was missing--and no one
knew anything about her fate.
When the wild geese discovered that no one but Kaksi had been separated
from the flock, they took the matter lightly. Kaksi was old and wise.
She knew all their byways and their habits, and she, of course, would
know how to find her way back to them.
Then the wild geese began to look around in the cave. Enough daylight
came in through the opening, so that they could see the grotto was both
deep and wide. They were delighted to think they had found such a fine
night harbour, when one of them caught sight of some shining, green
dots, which glittered in a dark corner. "These are eyes!" cried Akka.
"There are big animals in here." They rushed toward the opening, but
Thumbietot called to them: "There is nothing to run away from! It's only
a few sheep who are lying alongside the grotto wall."
When the wild geese had accustomed themselves to the dim daylight in the
grotto, they saw the sheep very distinctly. The grown-up ones might be
about as many as there were geese; but beside these there were a few
little lambs. An old ram with long, twisted horns appeared to be the
most lordly one of the flock. The wild geese went up to him with much
bowing and scraping. "Well met in the wilderness!" they greeted, but the
big ram lay still, and did not speak a word of welcome.
Then the wild geese thought that the sheep were displeased because they
had taken shelter in their grotto. "It is perhaps not permissible that
we have come in here?" said Akka. "But we cannot help it, for we are
wind-driven. We have wandered about in the storm all day, and it would
be very good to be allowed to stop here to-night." After that a long
time passed before any of the sheep answered with words; but, on the
other hand, it could be heard distinctly that a pair of them heaved deep
sighs. 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 doleful
voice, said: "There isn't one among us that refuses to let you stay; but
this is a house of mourning, and we cannot receive guests as we did in
former days." "You needn't worry about anything of that sort," said
Akka. "If you knew what we have endured this day, you would surely
understand that we are satisfied if we only get a safe spot to sleep
on."
When Akka said this, the old ewe raised herself. "I believe that it
would be better for you to fly about in the worst storm than to stop
here. But, at least, you shall not go from here before we have had the
privilege of offering you the best hospitality which the house affords."
She conducted them to a hollow in the ground, which was filled with
water. Beside it lay a pile of bait and husks and chaff; and she bade
them make the most of these. "We have had a severe snow-winter this
year, on the island," she said. "The peasants who own us came out to us
with hay and oaten straw, so we shouldn't starve to death. And this
trash is all there is left of the good cheer."
The geese rushed to the food instantly. They thought that they had fared
well, and were in their best humour. They must have observed, of course,
that the sheep were anxious; but they knew how easily scared sheep
generally 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 thought
that they had never seen a sheep with such big and coarse horns. In
other respects, also, he was noticeable. He had a high, rolling
forehead, intelligent eyes, and a good bearing--as though he were a
proud and courageous animal.
"I cannot assume the responsibility of letting you geese remain, without
telling you that it is unsafe here," said he. "We cannot receive night
guests just now." At last Akka began to comprehend that this was
serious. "We shall go away, since you really wish it," said she. "But
won't you tell us first, what it is that troubles you? We know nothing
about it. We do not even know where we are." "This is Little Karl's
Island!" said the ram. "It lies outside of Gottland, and only sheep and
seabirds live here." "Perhaps you are wild sheep?" said Akka. "We're not
far removed from it," replied the ram. "We have nothing to do with human
beings. It's an old agreement between us and some peasants on a farm in
Gottland, that they shall supply us with fodder in case we have
snow-winter; and as a recompense they are permitted to take away those
of us who become superfluous. The island is small, so it cannot feed
very many of us. But otherwise we take care of ourselves all the year
round, and we do not live in houses with doors and locks, but we reside
in grottoes like these."
"Do you stay out here in the winter as well?" asked Akka, surprised. "We
do," answered the ram. "We have good fodder up here on the mountain, all
the year around." "I think it sounds as if you might have it better than
other sheep," said Akka. "But what is the misfortune that has befallen
you?" "It was bitter cold last winter. The sea froze, and then three
foxes 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; then
I can protect myself and mine," said the ram, shaking his horns. "But
they sneak upon us at night when we sleep in the grottoes. We try to
keep awake, but one must sleep some of the time; and then they come upon
us. They have already killed every sheep in the other grottoes, and
there 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." "Do
you think that they will come here to-night?" asked Akka. "There is
nothing else in store for us," answered the old ewe. "They were here
last night, and stole a lamb from us. They'll be sure to come again, as
long as there are any of us alive. This is what they have done in the
other places." "But if they are allowed to keep this up, you'll become
entirely exterminated," said Akka. "Oh! it won't be long before it is
all over with the sheep on Little Karl's Island," said the ewe.
Akka stood there hesitatingly. It was not pleasant, by any means, to
venture out in the storm again, and it wasn't good to remain in a house
where such guests were expected. When she had pondered a while, she
turned to Thumbietot. "I wonder if you will help us, as you have done so
many 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 I
wonder if you are able to keep awake until the foxes come, and then to
awaken us, so we may fly away." The boy was so very glad of this--for
anything was better than to go out in the storm again--so he promised
to keep awake. He went down to the grotto opening, crawled in behind a
stone, 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. The
boy stepped to the opening to look out. The grotto was rather high up on
the mountain. A narrow path led to it. It was probably here that he must
await the foxes.
As yet he saw no foxes; but, on the other hand, there was something
which, for the moment, terrified him much more. On the land-strip below
the mountain stood some giants, or other stone-trolls--or perhaps they
were actual human beings. At first he thought that he was dreaming, but
now he was positive that he had not fallen asleep. He saw the big men so
distinctly that it couldn't be an illusion. Some of them stood on the
land-strip, and others right on the mountain just as if they intended to
climb it. Some had big, thick heads; others had no heads at all. Some
were one-armed, and some had humps both before and behind. He had never
seen anything so extraordinary.
The boy stood and worked himself into a state of panic because of those
trolls, 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 foxes
coming up the steep; and as soon as he knew that he had something real
to deal with, he was calm again, and not the least bit scared. It struck
him that it was a pity to awaken only the geese, and to leave the sheep
to their fate. He thought he would like to arrange things some other
way.
He ran quickly to the other end of the grotto, shook the big ram's horns
until he awoke, and, at the same time, swung himself upon his back. "Get
up, 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 heard
some noise; for when they came up to the mouth of the grotto they
stopped and deliberated. "It was certainly someone in there that
moved," 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. "Who
shall we take to-night?" whispered the one who went first. "To-night we
will take the big ram," said the last. "After that, we'll have easy work
with the rest."
The boy sat on the old ram's back and saw how they sneaked along. "Now
butt straight forward!" whispered the boy. The ram butted, and the first
fox was thrust--top over tail--back to the opening. "Now butt to the
left!" 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 the
side. He rolled around several times before he got to his feet again and
made his escape. The boy had wished that the third one, too, might have
gotten a bump, but this one had already gone.
"Now I think that they've had enough for to-night," said the boy. "I
think so too," said the big ram. "Now lie down on my back, and creep
into the wool! You deserve to have it warm and comfortable, after all
the wind and storm that you have been out in."