Joenkoeping with its great factories. The wildgeese rode first over Monksjoe paper mills. The noon rest hour was justover, and the big workmen were streaming down to the mill-gate. Whenthey heard the wild geese, they stopped a moment to listen to them."Where are you going? Where are you going?" called the workmen. The wildgeese understood nothing of what they said, but the boy answered forthem: "There, where there are neither machines nor steam-boxes." Whenthe workmen heard the answer, they believed it was their own longingthat made the goose-cackle sound like human speech. "Take us along withyou!" "Not this year," answered the boy. "Not this year."
Next, the geese rode over the well-known match factory, which lies onthe shores of Vettern--large as a fortress--and lifts its high chimneystoward the sky. Not a soul moved out in the yards; but in a large hallyoung working-women sat and filled match-boxes. They had opened a windowon account of the beautiful weather, and through it came the wildgeese's call. The one who sat nearest the window, leaned out with amatch-box in her hand, and cried: "Where are you going? Where are yougoing?" "To that land where there is no need of either light ormatches," said the boy. The girl thought that what she had heard wasonly goose-cackle; but since she thought she had distinguished a coupleof words, she called out in answer: "Take me along with you!" "Not thisyear," replied the boy. "Not this year."
East of the factories rises Joenkoeping, on the most glorious spot thatany city can occupy. The narrow Vettern has high, steep sand-shores,both on the eastern and western sides; but straight south, thesand-walls are broken down, just as if to make room for a large gate,through which one reaches the lake. And in the middle of the gate--withmountains to the left, and mountains to the right, with Monk Lake behindit, and Vettern in front of it--lies Joenkoeping.
The wild geese travelled forward over the long, narrow city, and behavedthemselves here just as they had done in the country. But in the citythere was no one who answered them. It was not to be expected that cityfolks should stop out in the streets, and call to the wild geese.
The trip extended further along Vettern's shores; and after a littlethey came to Sanna Sanitarium. Some of the patients had gone out on theveranda to enjoy the spring air, and in this way they heard thegoose-cackle. "Where are you going?" asked one of them with such afeeble voice that he was scarcely heard. "To that land where there isneither sorrow nor sickness," answered the boy. "Take us along withyou!" said the sick ones. "Not this year," answered the boy. "Not thisyear."
When they had travelled still farther on, they came to Huskvarna. It layin a valley. The mountains around it were steep and beautifully formed.A river rushed along the heights in long and narrow falls. Big workshopsand factories lay below the mountain walls; and scattered over thevalley-bottom were the workingmens' homes, encircled by little gardens;and in the centre of the valley lay the schoolhouse. Just as the wildgeese came along, a bell rang, and a crowd of school children marchedout in line. They were so numerous that the whole schoolyard was filledwith them. "Where are you going? Where are you going?" the childrenshouted when they heard the wild geese. "Where there are neither booksnor lessons to be found," answered the boy. "Take us along!" shriekedthe children. "Not this year, but next," cried the boy. "Not this year,but next."
THE BIG BIRD LAKE
JARRO, THE WILD DUCK
On the eastern shore of Vettern lies Mount Omberg; east of Omberg liesDagmosse; east of Dagmosse lies Lake Takern. Around the whole of Takernspreads the big, even Oestergoeta plain.
Takern is a pretty large lake and in olden times it must have been stilllarger. But then the people thought it covered entirely too much of thefertile plain, so they attempted to drain the water from it, that theymight sow and reap on the lake-bottom. But they did not succeed inlaying waste the entire lake--which had evidently been theirintention--therefore it still hides a lot of land. Since the drainingthe lake has become so shallow that hardly at any point is it more thana couple of metres deep. The shores have become marshy and muddy; andout in the lake, little mud-islets stick up above the water's surface.
Now, there is one who loves to stand with his feet in the water, if hecan just keep his body and head in the air, and that is the reed. And itcannot find a better place to grow upon, than the long, shallow Takernshores, and around the little mud-islets. It thrives so well that itgrows taller than a man's height, and so thick that it is almostimpossible to push a boat through it. It forms a broad green enclosurearound the whole lake, so that it is only accessible in a few placeswhere the people have taken away the reeds.
But if the reeds shut the people out, they give, in return, shelter andprotection to many other things. In the reeds there are a lot of littledams and canals with green, still water, where duckweed and pondweed runto seed; and where gnat-eggs and blackfish and worms are hatched out inuncountable masses. And all along the shores of these little dams andcanals, there are many well-concealed places, where seabirds hatch theireggs, and bring up their young without being disturbed, either byenemies or food worries.
An incredible number of birds live in the Takern reeds; and more andmore gather there every year, as it becomes known what a splendid abodeit is. The first who settled there were the wild ducks; and they stilllive there by thousands. But they no longer own the entire lake, forthey have been obliged to share it with swans, grebes, coots, loons,fen-ducks, and a lot of others.
Takern is certainly the largest and choicest bird lake in the wholecountry; and the birds may count themselves lucky as long as they ownsuch a retreat. But it is uncertain just how long they will be incontrol of reeds and mud-banks, for human beings cannot forget that thelake extends over a considerable portion of good and fertile soil; andevery now and then the proposition to drain it comes up among them. Andif these propositions were carried out, the many thousands ofwater-birds would be forced to move from this quarter.
At the time when Nils Holgersson travelled around with the wild geese,there lived at Takern a wild duck named Jarro. He was a young bird, whohad only lived one summer, one fall, and a winter; now, it was his firstspring. He had just returned from South Africa, and had reached Takernin such good season that the ice was still on the lake.
One evening, when he and the other young wild ducks played at racingbackward and forward over the lake, a hunter fired a couple of shots atthem, and Jarro was wounded in the breast. He thought he should die; butin order that the one who had shot him shouldn't get him into his power,he continued to fly as long as he possibly could. He didn't thinkwhither he was directing his course, but only struggled to get faraway. When his strength failed him, so that he could not fly anyfarther, he was no longer on the lake. He had flown a bit inland, andnow he sank down before the entrance to one of the big farms which liealong the shores of Takern.
A moment later a young farm-hand happened along. He saw Jarro, and cameand lifted him up. But Jarro, who asked for nothing but to be let die inpeace, gathered his last powers and nipped the farm-hand in the finger,so he should let go of him.
Jarro didn't succeed in freeing himself. The encounter had this good init at any rate: the farm-hand noticed that the bird was alive. Hecarried him very gently into the cottage, and showed him to the mistressof the house--a young woman with a kindly face. At once she took Jarrofrom the farm-hand, stroked him on the back and wiped away the bloodwhich trickled down through the neck-feathers. She looked him over verycarefully; and when she saw how pretty he was, with his dark-green,shining head, his white neck-band, his brownish-red back, and his bluewing-mirror, she must have thought that it was a pity for him to die.She promptly put a basket in order, and tucked the bird into it.
All the while Jarro fluttered and struggled to get loose; but when heunderstood that the people didn't intend to kill him, he settled down inthe basket with a sense of pleasure. Now it was evident how exhausted hewas from pain and loss of blood. The mistress carried the basket acrossthe floor to place it in the corner by the fireplace; but before she putit down Jarro was already fast asleep.
In a little whil
e Jarro was awakened by someone who nudged him gently.When he opened his eyes he experienced such an awful shock that healmost lost his senses. Now he was lost; for there stood _the_ one whowas more dangerous than either human beings or birds of prey. It was noless a thing than Caesar himself--the long-haired dog--who nosed aroundhim inquisitively.
How pitifully scared had he not been last summer, when he was still alittle yellow-down duckling, every time it had sounded over thereed-stems: "Caesar is coming! Caesar is coming!" When he had seen thebrown and white spotted dog with the teeth-filled jowls come wadingthrough the reeds, he had believed that he beheld death itself. He hadalways hoped that he would never have to live through that moment whenhe should meet Caesar face to face.
But, to his sorrow, he must have
Nils Holgerssons underbara resa. English Page 39