here the great logs were drawn up and down steephills; here the poor horses must be worked to their limit, and thedriver must often be in peril. "I'm afraid there has been very littlecheer along this road," the boy observed.
The eagle flew on with powerful wing strokes, and soon they came to ariver bank covered with logs, chips, and bark. The eagle perceived thatthe boy wondered why it looked so littered up down there.
"Here the harvest has been stacked," the eagle told him.
The boy thought of how the grain stacks in his part of the country werepiled up close to the farms, as if they were their greatest ornaments,while here the harvest was borne to a desolate river strand, and leftthere.
"I wonder if any one out in this wilderness counts his stacks, andcompares them with his neighbour's?" he said.
A little later they came to Ljungen, a river which glides through abroad valley. Immediately everything was so changed that they might wellthink they had come to another country. The dark spruce forest hadstopped on the inclines above the valley, and the slopes were clad inlight-stemmed birches and aspens. The valley was so broad that in manyplaces the river widened into lakes. Along the shores lay a largeflourishing town.
As they soared above the valley the eagle realized that the boy waswondering if the fields and meadows here could provide a livelihood forso many people.
"Here live the reapers who mow the forest fields," the eagle said.
The boy was thinking of the lowly cabins and the hedged-in farms down inSkane when he exclaimed:
"Why, here the peasants live in real manors. It looks as if it might beworth one's while to work in the forest!"
The eagle had intended to travel straight north, but when he had flownout over the river he understood that the boy wondered who handled thetimber after it was stacked on the river bank.
The boy recollected how careful they had been at home never to let agrain be wasted, while here were great rafts of logs floating down theriver, uncared for. He could not believe that more than half of the logsever reached their destination. Many were floating in midstream, and forthem all went smoothly; others moved close to the shore, bumping againstpoints of land, and some were left behind in the still waters of thecreeks. On the lakes there were so many logs that they covered theentire surface of the water. These appeared to be lodged for anindefinite period. At the bridges they stuck; in the falls they werebunched, then they were pyramided and broken in two; afterward, in therapids, they were blocked by the stones and massed into great heaps.
"I wonder how long it takes for the logs to get to the mill?" said theboy.
The eagle continued his slow flight down River Ljungen. Over many placeshe paused in the air on outspread wings, that the boy might see how thiskind of harvest work was done.
Presently they came to a place where the loggers were at work. The eaglemarked that the boy wondered what they were doing.
"They are the ones who take care of all the belated harvest," the eaglesaid.
The boy remembered the perfect ease with which his people at home haddriven their grain to the mill. Here the men ran alongside the shoreswith long boat-hooks, and with toil and effort urged the logs along.They waded out in the river and were soaked from top to toe. They jumpedfrom stone to stone far out into the rapids, and they tramped on therolling log heaps as calmly as though they were on flat ground. Theywere daring and resolute men.
"As I watch this, I'm reminded of the iron-moulders in the miningdistricts, who juggle with fire as if it were perfectly harmless,"remarked the boy. "These loggers play with water as if they were itsmasters. They seem to have subjugated it so that it dare not harm them."
Gradually they neared the mouth of the river, and Bothnia Bay was beyondthem. Gorgo flew no farther straight ahead, but went northward along thecoast. Before they had travelled very far they saw a lumber camp aslarge as a small city. While the eagle circled back and forth above it,he heard the boy remark that this place looked interesting.
"Here you have the great lumber camp called Svartvik," the eagle said.
The boy thought of the mill at home, which stood peacefully embedded infoliage, and moved its wings very slowly. This mill, where they grindthe forest harvest, stood on the water.
The mill pond was crowded with logs. One by one the helpers seized themwith their cant-hooks, crowded them into the chutes and hurried themalong to the whirling saws. What happened to the logs inside, the boycould not see, but he heard loud buzzing and roaring, and from the otherend of the house small cars ran out, loaded with white planks. The carsran on shining tracks down to the lumber yard, where the planks werepiled in rows, forming streets--like blocks of houses in a city. In oneplace they were building new piles; in another they were pulling downold ones. These were carried aboard two large vessels which lay waitingfor cargo. The place was alive with workmen, and in the woods, back ofthe yard, they had their homes.
"They'll soon manage to saw up all the forests in Medelpad the way theywork here," said the boy.
The eagle moved his wings just a little, and carried the boy aboveanother large camp, very much like the first, with the mill, yard,wharf, and the homes of the workmen.
"This is called Kukikenborg," the eagle said.
He flapped his wings slowly, flew past two big lumber camps, andapproached a large city. When the eagle heard the boy ask the name ofit, he cried; "This is Sundsvall, the manor of the lumber districts."
The boy remembered the cities of Skane, which looked so old and gray andsolemn; while here in the bleak North the city of Sundsvall faced abeautiful bay, and looked young and happy and beaming. There wassomething odd about the city when one saw it from above, for in themiddle stood a cluster of tall stone structures which looked so imposingthat their match was hardly to be found in Stockholm. Around the stonebuildings there was a large open space, then came a wreath of framehouses which looked pretty and cosy in their little gardens; but theyseemed to be conscious of the fact that they were very much poorer thanthe stone houses, and dared not venture into their neighbourhood.
"This must be both a wealthy and powerful city," remarked the boy. "Canit be possible that the poor forest soil is the source of all this?"
The eagle flapped his wings again, and went over to Aln Island, whichlies opposite Sundsvall. The boy was greatly surprised to see all thesawmills that decked the shores. On Aln Island they stood, one nextanother, and on the mainland opposite were mill upon mill, lumber yardupon lumber yard. He counted forty, at least, but believed there weremany more.
"How wonderful it all looks from up here!" he marvelled. "So much lifeand activity I have not seen in any place save this on the whole trip.It is a great country that we have! Wherever I go, there is alwayssomething new for people to live upon."
A MORNING IN ANGERMANLAND
THE BREAD
_Saturday, June eighteenth_.
Next morning, when the eagle had flown some distance into Angermanland,he remarked that to-day he was the one who was hungry, and must findsomething to eat! He set the boy down in an enormous pine on a highmountain ridge, and away he flew.
The boy found a comfortable seat in a cleft branch from which he couldlook down over Angermanland. It was a glorious morning! The sunshinegilded the treetops; a soft breeze played in the pine needles; thesweetest fragrance was wafted through the forest; a beautiful landscapespread before him; and the boy himself was happy and care-free. He feltthat no one could be better off.
He had a perfect outlook in every direction. The country west of him wasall peaks and table-land, and the farther away they were, the higher andwilder they looked. To the east there were also many peaks, but thesesank lower and lower toward the sea, where the land became perfectlyflat. Everywhere he saw shining rivers and brooks which were having atroublesome journey with rapids and falls so long as they ran betweenmountains, but spread out clear and broad as they neared the shore ofthe coast. Bothnia Bay was dotted with islands and notched with points,but farther out was open, blue water, like a sum
mer sky.
When the boy had had enough of the landscape he unloosed his knapsack,took out a morsel of fine white bread, and began to eat.
"I don't think I've ever tasted such good bread," said he. "And how muchI have left! There's enough to last me for a couple of days." As hemunched he thought of how he had come by the bread.
"It must be because I got it in such a nice way that it tastes so goodto me," he said.
The golden eagle had left Medelpad the evening before. He had hardlycrossed the border into Angermanland when the boy caught a glimpse of afertile valley and a river, which surpassed anything of the kind he hadseen before.
As the boy glanced down at the rich valley, he complained of feelinghungry. He had had no food for two whole days, he said, and now he wasfamished. Gorgo did not wish to have it said that the boy had faredworse in his company than when he travelled with the wild
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