_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 be
ushered in with anything short of this; nevertheless they thought it
unbearable.
After it had been raining for a whole day, the snowdrifts in the pine
forests began to melt in earnest, and the spring brooks grew lively. All
the pools on the farms, the standing water in the ditches, the water
that oozed between the tufts in marshes and swamps--all were in motion
and tried to find their way to creeks, that they might be borne along to
the sea.
The creeks rushed as fast as possible down to the rivers, and the rivers
did their utmost to carry the water to Lake Mälar.
All the lakes and rivers in Uppland and the mining district quickly
threw off their ice covers on one and the same day, so that the creeks
filled with ice-floes which rose clear up to their banks.
Swollen as they were, they emptied into Lake Mälar, and it was not long
before the lake had taken in as much water as it could well hold. Down
by the outlet was a raging torrent. Norrström is a narrow channel, and
it could not let out the water quickly enough. Besides, there was a
strong easterly wind that lashed against the land, obstructing the
stream when it tried to carry the fresh water into the East Sea. Since
the rivers kept running to Mälaren with more water than it could dispose
of, 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; but
as they were mostly low and gradually sloping, it was not long before
the water had flooded several acres of land, and that was enough to
create the greatest alarm.
Lake Mälar is unique in its way, being made up of a succession of narrow
fiords, bays, and inlets. In no place does it spread into a storm
centre, but seems to have been created only for pleasure trips, yachting
tours, and fishing. Nowhere does it present barren, desolate, wind-swept
shores. It looks as if it never thought that its shores could hold
anything but country seats, summer villas, manors, and amusement
resorts. But, because it usually presents a very agreeable and friendly
appearance, there is all the more havoc whenever it happens to drop its
smiling expression in the spring, and show that it can be serious.
At that critical time Smirre Fox happened to come sneaking through a
birch grove just north of Lake Mälar. As usual, he was thinking of
Thumbietot and the wild geese, and wondering how he should ever find
them again. He had lost all track of them.
As he stole cautiously along, more discouraged than usual, he caught
sight of Agar, the carrier-pigeon, who had perched herself on a birch
branch.
"My, but I'm in luck to run across you, Agar!" exclaimed Smirre. "Maybe
you can tell me where Akka from Kebnekaise and her flock hold forth
nowadays?"
"It's quite possible that I know where they are," Agar hinted, "but I'm
not likely to tell you!"
"Please yourself!" retorted Smirre. "Nevertheless, you can take a
message that I have for them. You probably know the present condition of
Lake Mälar? There's a great overflow down there and all the swans who
live in Hjälsta Bay are about to see their nests, with all their eggs,
destroyed. Daylight, the swan-king, has heard of the midget who travels
with the wild geese and knows a remedy for every ill. He has sent me to
ask Akka if she will bring Thumbietot down to Hjälsta Bay."
"I dare say I can convey your message," Agar replied, "but I can't
understand 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 Smirre
smoothly, "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 the
message from a fox. Between you and me, she's inclined to be a little
suspicious."
The safest refuge for water-fowl in the whole Mälar district is Hjälsta
Bay. 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 a
good retreat for birds, since it has long been forbidden territory to
hunters.
It is the home of a great many swans, and the owner of the old castle
nearby has prohibited all shooting on the bay, so that they might be
unmolested.
As soon as Akka received word that the swans needed her help, she
hastened down to Hjälsta Bay. She arrived with her flock one evening and
saw 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 the
bay. Some had already fallen apart, two or three had capsized, and the
eggs lay at the bottom of the lake.
When Akka alighted on the bay, all the swans living there were gathered
near the eastern shore, where they were protected from the wind.
Although they had suffered much by the flood, they were too proud to let
any one see it.
"It is useless to cry," they said. "There are plenty of root-fibres and
stems here; we can soon build new nests."
None had thought of asking a stranger to help them, and the swans had no
idea that Smirre Fox had sent for the wild geese!
There were several hundred swans resting on the water. They had placed
themselves according to rank and station. The young and inexperienced
were farthest out, the old and wise nearer the middle of the group, and
right in the centre sat Daylight, the swan-king, and Snow-White, the
swan-queen, who were older than any of the others and regarded the rest
of the swans as their children.
The geese alighted on the west shore of the bay; but when Akka saw where
the swans were, she swam toward them at once. She was very much
surprised at their having sent for her, but she regarded it as an honour
and 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 followed
her swam in a straight line, and at even distances apart.
"Now, swim along quickly!" she ordered. "Don't stare at the swans as if
you had never before seen anything beautiful, and don't mind what they
may say to you!"
This was not the first time that Akka had called on the aristocratic
swans. They had always received her in a manner befitting a great
traveller like herself.
But still she did not like the idea of swimming in among them. She never
felt so gray and insignificant as when she happened upon swans. One or
another 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 made
way 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, like
sails, to appear well before the strangers. They refrained from making
comments, which rather surprised Akka.
Evidently Daylight had noted their misbehaviour in the past and had told
the swans that they must conduct themselves in a proper manner--so
thought the leader-goose.
But just as the swans were making an effort to observe the rules of
etiquette, they caught sight of the goosey-gander, who swam last in the
long goose-line. Then there was a murmur of disapproval, even of
threats, among the swans, and at once there was an end to their good
deportment!
"What's this?" shrieked one. "Do the wild geese intend to dress up in
white feathers?"
"They needn't think that will make swans of them," cried another.
They began shrieking--one louder than another--in their strong, resonant
voices. It was impossible to explain that a tame goosey-gander had come
with the wild geese.
"That must be the goose-king himself coming along," they said
tauntingly. "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 he
could, 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 must
think we don't see it's a frog because it is dressed like a human
being."
The swans, who but a moment before had been resting in such perfect
order, now swam up and down excitedly. All tried to crowd forward to get
a glimpse of the white wild goose.
"That white goosey-gander ought to be ashamed to come here and parade
before swans!"
"He's probably as gray as the rest of them. He has only been in a flour
barrel at some farm house!"
Akka had just come up to Daylight and was about to ask him what kind of
help he wanted of her, when the swan-king noticed the uproar among the
swans.
"What do I see? Haven't I taught you to be polite to strangers?" he said
with a frown.
Snow-White, the swan-queen, swam out to restore order among her
subjects, 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 not
shameful? I don't wonder they are furious!"
"A white wild goose?" scoffed Daylight. "That's too ridiculous! There
can't be such a thing. You must be mistaken."
The crowds around Morten Goosey-Gander grew larger and larger. Akka and
the other wild geese tried to swim over to him, but were jostled hither
and 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 white
gander. But when he saw that there really was a white goose on the
water, he was just as indignant as the rest.
He hissed with rage, flew straight at Morten Goosey-Gander and tore out
a few feathers.
"I'll teach you a lesson, wild goose," he shrieked, "so that you'll not
come again to the swans, togged out in this way!"
"Fly, Morten Goosey-Gander! Fly, fly!" cried Akka, for she knew that
otherwise 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 not
room enough to spread his wings. All around him the swans stretched
their long necks, opened their strong bills, and plucked his feathers.
Morten Goosey-Gander defended himself as best he could, by striking and
biting. The wild geese also began to fight the swans.
It was obvious how this would have ended had the geese not received help
quite 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 they
need help to drive off a hawk or a falcon.
Three calls had barely sounded when all the little birds in the vicinity
came shooting down to Hjälsta Bay, as if on wings of lightning.
These delicate little creatures swooped down upon the swans, screeched
in their ears, and obstructed their view with the flutter of their tiny
wings. They made them dizzy with their fluttering and drove them to
distraction with their cries of "Shame, shame, swans!"
The attack of the small birds lasted but a moment. When they were gone
and the swans came to their senses, they saw that the geese had risen
and flown over to the other end of the bay.