themall, but he did not succeed in catching any one of them.
After that came five geese; but these flew better than the others. Andalthough it seemed as if they wanted to lure Smirre to jump, hewithstood the temptation. After quite a long time came one single goose.It was the thirteenth. This one was so old that she was gray all over,without a dark speck anywhere on her body. She didn't appear to use onewing very well, but flew so wretchedly and crookedly, that she almosttouched the ground. Smirre not only made a high leap for her, but hepursued her, running and jumping all the way down to the lake. But noteven this time did he get anything for his trouble.
When the fourteenth goose came along, it looked very pretty because itwas white. And as its great wings swayed, it glistened like a light, inthe dark forest. When Smirre Fox saw this one, he mustered all hisresources and jumped half-way up to the tree-canopy. But the white oneflew by unhurt like the rest.
Now it was quiet for a moment under the beeches. It looked as if thewhole wild-goose-flock had travelled past.
Suddenly Smirre remembered his prisoner and raised his eyes toward theyoung beech-tree. And just as he might have expected--the boy haddisappeared.
But Smirre didn't have much time to think about him; for now the firstgoose came back again from the lake and flew slowly under the canopy. Inspite of all his ill luck, Smirre was glad that she came back, anddarted after her with a high leap. But he had been in too much of ahurry, and hadn't taken the time to calculate the distance, and helanded at one side of the goose. Then there came still another goose;then a third; a fourth; a fifth; and so on, until the angle closed inwith the old ice-gray one, and the big white one. They all flew low andslow. Just as they swayed in the vicinity of Smirre Fox, they sankdown--kind of inviting-like--for him to take them. Smirre ran after themand made leaps a couple of fathoms high--but he couldn't manage to gethold of a single one of them.
It was the most awful day that Smirre Fox had ever experienced. The wildgeese kept on travelling over his head. They came and went--came andwent. Great splendid geese who had eaten themselves fat on the Germanheaths and grain fields, swayed all day through the woods, and so closeto him that he touched them many times; yet he was not permitted toappease his hunger with a single one of them.
The winter was hardly gone yet, and Smirre recalled nights and days whenhe had been forced to tramp around in idleness, with not so much as ahare to hunt, when the rats hid themselves under the frozen earth; andwhen the chickens were all shut up. But all the winter's hunger had notbeen as hard to endure as this day's miscalculations.
Smirre was no young fox. He had had the dogs after him many a time, andhad heard the bullets whizz around his ears. He had lain in hiding, downin the lair, while the dachshunds crept into the crevices and all butfound him. But all the anguish that Smirre Fox had been forced to sufferunder this hot chase, was not to be compared with what he suffered everytime that he missed one of the wild geese.
In the morning, when the play began, Smirre Fox had looked so stunningthat the geese were amazed when they saw him. Smirre loved display. Hiscoat was a brilliant red; his breast white; his nose black; and his tailwas as bushy as a plume. But when the evening of this day was come,Smirre's coat hung in loose folds. He was bathed in sweat; his eyes werewithout lustre; his tongue hung far out from his gaping jaws; and frothoozed from his mouth.
In the afternoon Smirre was so exhausted that he grew delirious. He sawnothing before his eyes but flying geese. He made leaps for sun-spotswhich he saw on the ground; and for a poor little butterfly that hadcome out of his chrysalis too soon.
The wild geese flew and flew, unceasingly. All day long they continuedto torment Smirre. They were not moved to pity because Smirre was doneup, fevered, and out of his head. They continued without a let-up,although they understood that he hardly saw them, and that he jumpedafter their shadows.
When Smirre Fox sank down on a pile of dry leaves, weak and powerlessand almost ready to give up the ghost, they stopped teasing him.
"Now you know, Mr. Fox, what happens to the one who dares to come nearAkka of Kebnekaise!" they shouted in his ear; and with that they lefthim in peace.
THE WONDERFUL JOURNEY OF NILS
ON THE FARM
_Thursday, March twenty-fourth_.
Just at that time a thing happened in Skane which created a good deal ofdiscussion and even got into the newspapers but which many believed tobe a fable, because they had not been able to explain it.
It was about like this: A lady squirrel had been captured in thehazelbrush that grew on the shores of Vomb Lake, and was carried to afarmhouse close by. All the folks on the farm--both young and old--weredelighted with the pretty creature with the bushy tail, the wise,inquisitive eyes, and the natty little feet. They intended to amusethemselves all summer by watching its nimble movements; its ingeniousway of shelling nuts; and its droll play. They immediately put in orderan old squirrel cage with a little green house and a wire-cylinderwheel. The little house, which had both doors and windows, the ladysquirrel was to use as a dining room and bedroom. For this reason theyplaced therein a bed of leaves, a bowl of milk and some nuts. Thecylinder wheel, on the other hand, she was to use as a play-house, whereshe could run and climb and swing round.
The people believed that they had arranged things very comfortably forthe lady squirrel, and they were astonished because she didn't seem tobe contented; but, instead, she sat there, downcast and moody, in acorner of her room. Every now and again, she would let out a shrill,agonised cry. She did not touch the food; and not once did she swinground on the wheel. "It's probably because she's frightened," said thefarmer folk. "To-morrow, when she feels more at home, she will both eatand play."
Meanwhile, the women folk on the farm were making preparations for afeast; and just on that day when the lady squirrel had been captured,they were busy with an elaborate bake. They had had bad luck withsomething: either the dough wouldn't rise, or else they had beendilatory, for they were obliged to work long after dark.
Naturally there was a great deal of excitement and bustle in thekitchen, and probably no one there took time to think about thesquirrel, or to wonder how she was getting on. But there was an oldgrandma in the house who was too aged to take a hand in the baking; thisshe herself understood, but just the same she did not relish the idea ofbeing left out of the game. She felt rather downhearted; and for thisreason she did not go to bed but seated herself by the sitting-roomwindow and looked out.
They had opened the kitchen door on account of the heat; and through ita clear ray of light streamed out on the yard; and it became so welllighted out there that the old woman could see all the cracks and holesin the plastering on the wall opposite. She also saw the squirrel cagewhich hung just where the light fell clearest. And she noticed how thesquirrel ran from her room to the wheel, and from the wheel to her room,all night long, without stopping an instant. She thought it was astrange sort of unrest that had come over the animal; but she believed,of course, that the strong light kept her awake.
Between the cow-house and the stable there was a broad, handsomecarriage-gate; this too came within the light-radius. As the night woreon, the old grandma saw a tiny creature, no bigger than a hand'sbreadth, cautiously steal his way through the gate. He was dressed inleather breeches and wooden shoes like any other working man. The oldgrandma knew at once that it was the elf, and she was not the least bitfrightened. She had always heard that the elf kept himself somewhereabout the place, although she had never seen him before; and an elf, tobe sure, brought good luck wherever he appeared.
As soon as the elf came into the stone-paved yard, he ran right up tothe squirrel cage. And since it hung so high that he could not reach it,he went over to the store-house after a rod; placed it against the cage,and swung himself up--in the same way that a sailor climbs a rope. Whenhe had reached the cage, he shook the door of the little green house asif he wanted to open it; but the old grandma didn't move; for she knewthat the children had put a padlock on the door, a
s they feared that theboys on the neighbouring farms would try to steal the squirrel. The oldwoman saw that when the boy could not get the door open, the ladysquirrel came out to the wire wheel. There they held a long conferencetogether. And when the boy had listened to all that the imprisonedanimal had to say to him, he slid down the rod to the ground, and ranout through the carriage-gate.
The old woman didn't expect to see anything more of the elf that night,nevertheless, she remained at the window. After a few moments had goneby, he returned. He was in such a hurry that it seemed to her as thoughhis feet hardly touched the ground; and he rushed right up to thesquirrel cage. The old woman, with her far-sighted eyes, saw himdistinctly; and she also saw that he carried something in his hands; butwhat it was she couldn't imagine. The thing he carried in his left handhe laid down on the pavement; but that which he held in his right handhe took with him to the cage. He kicked so hard with his wooden shoes onthe
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