The wonderful adventures of nils

litelma,” and so on, 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 betook themselves southward, for so much snow had fallen that the ground was white as far as the eye could see. There was no use denying that it had been rather disagreeable in the glen toward the last. Rain and fog had succeeded each other without any relief, and even if it did clear up once in a while, immediately frost set in. Berries and mushrooms, upon which the boy had subsisted during the summer, were either frozen or decayed. Finally he had been compelled to eat raw fish, which was something he disliked. The days had grown short and the long evenings and late mornings were rather tiresome for one who could not sleep the whole time that the sun was away.
Now, at last, the goslings` wings had grown, so that the geese could start for the south. The boy was so happy that he laughed and sang as he rode on the goose`s back. It was not only on account of the darkness and cold that he longed to get away from Lapland; there were other reasons too.
The first weeks of his sojourn there the boy had not been the least bit homesick. 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 her for 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 on snow-capped Mount Kebnekaise, had looked down at the glaciers and visited many high cliffs seldom tramped by human feet. Akka had shown him deep-hidden mountain dales and had let him peep into caves where mother wolves brought up their young. He had also made the acquaintance of the tame reindeer that grazed in herds along the shores of the beautiful Torne Lake, and he had been down to the great falls and brought greetings to the bears that lived thereabouts from their friends and relatives in Westmanland.
Ever since he had seen Osa, the goose girl, he longed for the day when he might go home with Morten Goosey-Gander and be a normal human being once more. He wanted to be himself again, so that Osa would not be afraid 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. He waved his cap and cheered when he saw the first pine forest. In the same manner 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 greater flocks than in the spring.
“Where are you bound for, wild geese?” called the passing birds. “Where are 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 wild geese 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 cubs and growled:
“Just look at those geese; they are so afraid of a little cold they don`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 rather than go to the trouble of travelling south!”
Down in the pine forest the young grouse sat huddled together and gazed longingly 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 HARJEDALEN
Tuesday, October fourth.
The boy had had three days` travel in the rain and mist and longed for some sheltered nook, where he might rest awhile.
At last the geese alighted to feed and ease their wings a bit. To his great relief the boy saw an observation tower on a hill close by, and dragged himself to it.
When he had climbed to the top of the tower he found a party of tourists there, so he quickly crawled into a dark corner and was soon sound asleep.
When the boy awoke, he began to feel uneasy because the tourists lingered so long in the tower telling stories. He thought they would never go. Morten Goosey-Gander could not come for him while they were there and he knew, of course, that the wild geese were in a hurry to continue the journey. In the middle of a story he thought he heard honking and the beating of wings, as if the geese were flying away, but he did not dare to venture over to the balustrade to find out if it was so.
At last, when the tourists were gone, and the boy could crawl from his hiding place, he saw no wild geese, and no Morten Goosey-Gander came to fetch 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 he think they had deserted him; but he feared that they had met with some mishap 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 glad welcome as he now gave him.
“Dear Bataki,” he burst forth. “How fortunate that you are here! Maybe you 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 saw a hunter prowling about on the mountain and therefore dared not stay to wait for you, but has gone on ahead. Get up on my back and you shall soon be with your friends.”
The boy quickly seated himself on the raven`s back and Bataki would soon have caught up with the geese had he not been hindered by a fog. It was as if the morning sun had awakened it to life. Little light veils of mist rose suddenly from the lake, from fields, and from the forest. They thickened and spread with marvellous rapidity, and soon the entire ground was hidden from sight by white, rolling mists.
Bataki flew along above the fog in clear air and sparkling sunshine, but the wild geese must have circled down among the damp clouds, for it was impossible to sight them. The boy and the raven called and shrieked, but got no response.
“Well, this is a stroke of ill luck!” said Bataki finally. “But we know that they are travelling toward the south, and of course I`ll find them as soon as the mist clears.”
The boy was distressed at the thought of being parted from Morten Goosey-Gander just now, when the geese were on the wing, and the big white one might meet with all sorts of mishaps. After Thumbietot had been sitting worrying for two hours or more, he remarked to himself that, thus far, there had been no mishap, and it was not worth while to lose heart.
Just then he heard a rooster crowing down on the ground, and instantly he bent forward on the raven`s back and called out:
“What`s the name of the country I`m travelling over?”
“It`s called Harjedalen, Harjedalen, Harjedalen,” 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 whole country,” 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 in the 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 the mist.
“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 human being 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 Jamtland, but there were no large, flourishing settlements on the mountain slopes. The villages lay far apart, and the farms were small. Bataki followed the stream southward till they came within sight of a village. There he alighted in a stubble field and let the boy dismount.
“In the summer grain grew on this ground,” said Bataki. “Look around and see if you can`t find something eatable.”
The boy acted upon the suggestion and before long he found a blade of wheat. 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 Sonfjallet,” continued the raven; “you can imagine that wolves 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 by them,” remarked the raven.
“Perhaps you remember a good wolf story you could tell me?” said the boy.
“I`ve been told that a long, long time ago the wolves from Sonfjallet are supposed to have waylaid a man who had gone out to peddle his wares,” began Bataki. “He was from Hede, a village …