The Wonderful Adventures of Nils Holgersson

by Selma Lagerlof

  "No, I don't want to borrow any more money," his father said, as they were passing the stable. "There's nothing quite so hard as being in debt. It would be better to sell the cabin."

  "If it were not for the boy, I shouldn't mind selling it," his mother demurred. "But what will become of him, if he returns some day, wretched and poor—as he's likely to be—and we not here?"

  "You're right about that," the father agreed. "But we shall have to ask the folks who take the place to receive him kindly and to let him know that he's welcome back to us. We sha'n't say a harsh word to him, no matter what he may be, shall we mother?"

  "No, indeed! If I only had him again, so that I could be certain he is not starving and freezing on the highways, I'd ask nothing more!"

  Then his father and mother went in, and the boy heard no more of their conversation.

  He was happy and deeply moved when he knew that they loved him so dearly, although they believed he had gone astray. He longed to rush into their arms.

  "But perhaps it would be an even greater sorrow were they to see me as I now am."

  While he stood there, hesitating, a cart drove up to the gate. The boy smothered a cry of surprise, for who should step from the cart and go into the house yard but Osa, the goose girl, and her father!

  They walked hand in hand toward the cabin. When they were about half way there, Osa stopped her father and said:

  "Now remember, father, you are not to mention the wooden shoe or the geese or the little brownie who was so like Nils Holgersson that if it was not himself it must have had some connection with him."

  "Certainly not!" said Jon Esserson. "I shall only say that their son has been of great help to you on several occasions—when you were trying to find me—and that therefore we have come to ask if we can't do them a service in return, since I'm a rich man now and have more than I need, thanks to the mine I discovered up in Lapland."

  "I know, father, that you can say the right thing in the right way," Osa commended. "It is only that one particular thing that I don't wish you to mention."

  They went into the cabin, and the boy would have liked to hear what they talked about in there; but he dared not venture near the house. It was not long before they came out again, and his father and mother accompanied them as far as the gate.

  His parents were strangely happy. They appeared to have gained a new hold on life.

  When the visitors were gone, father and mother lingered at the gate gazing after them.

  "I don't feel unhappy any longer, since I've heard so much that is good of our Nils," said his mother.

  "Perhaps he got more praise than he really deserved," put in his father thoughtfully.

  "Wasn't it enough for you that they came here specially to say they wanted to help us because our Nils had served them in many ways? I think, father, that you should have accepted their offer."

  "No, mother, I don't wish to accept money from any one, either as a gift or a loan. In the first place I want to free myself from all debt, then we will work our way up again. We're not so very old, are we, mother?" The father laughed heartily as he said this.

  "I believe you think it will be fun to sell this place, upon which we have expended such a lot of time and hard work," protested the mother.

  "Oh, you know why I'm laughing," the father retorted. "It was the thought of the boy's having gone to the bad that weighed me down until I had no strength or courage left in me. Now that I know he still lives and has turned out well, you'll see that Holger Nilsson has some grit left."

  The mother went in alone, and the boy made haste to hide in a corner, for his father walked into the stable. He went over to the horse and examined its hoof, as usual, to try to discover what was wrong with it.

  "What's this!" he cried, discovering some letters scratched on the hoof.

  "Remove the sharp piece of iron from the foot," he read and glanced around inquiringly. However, he ran his fingers along the under side of the hoof and looked at it carefully.

  "I verily believe there is something sharp here!" he said.

  While his father was busy with the horse and the boy sat huddled in a corner, it happened that other callers came to the farm.

  The fact was that when Morten Goosey-Gander found himself so near his old home he simply could not resist the temptation of showing his wife and children to his old companions on the farm. So he took Dunfin and the goslings along, and made for home.

  There was not a soul in the barn yard when the goosey-gander came along. He alighted, confidently walked all around the place, and showed Dunfin how luxuriously he had lived when he was a tame goose.

  When they had viewed the entire farm, he noticed that the door of the cow shed was open.

  "Look in here a moment," he said, "then you will see how I lived in former days. It was very different from camping in swamps and morasses, as we do now."

  The goosey-gander stood in the doorway and looked into the cow shed.

  "There's not a soul in here," he said. "Come along, Dunfin, and you shall see the goose pen. Don't be afraid; there's no danger."

  Forthwith the goosey-gander, Dunfin, and all six goslings waddled into the goose pen, to have a look at the elegance and comfort in which the big white gander had lived before he joined the wild geese.

  "This is the way it used to be: here was my place and over there was the trough, which was always filled with oats and water," explained the goosey-gander.

  "Wait! there's some fodder in it now." With that he rushed to the trough and began to gobble up the oats.

  But Dunfin was nervous.

  "Let's go out again!" she said.

  "Only two more grains," insisted the goosey-gander. The next second he let out a shriek and ran for the door, but it was too late! The door slammed, the mistress stood without and bolted it. They were locked in!

  The father had removed a sharp piece of iron from the horse's hoof and stood contentedly stroking the animal when the mother came running into the stable.

  "Come, father, and see the capture I've made!"

  "No, wait a minute!" said the father. "Look here, first. I have discovered what ailed the horse."

  "I believe our luck has turned," said the mother. "Only fancy! the big white goosey-gander that disappeared last spring must have gone off with the wild geese. He has come back to us in company with seven wild geese. They walked straight into the goose pen, and I've shut them all in."

  "That's extraordinary," remarked the father. "But best of all is that we don't have to think any more that our boy stole the goosey-gander when he went away."

  "You're quite right, father," she said. "But I'm afraid we'll have to kill them to-night. In two days is Morten Gooseday[1] and we must make haste if we expect to get them to market in time."

  [Footnote 1: In Sweden the 10th of November is called Morten Gooseday and corresponds to the American Thanksgiving Day.]

  "I think it would be outrageous to butcher the goosey-gander, now that he has returned to us with such a large family," protested Holger Nilsson.

  "If times were easier we'd let him live; but since we're going to move from here, we can't keep geese. Come along now and help me carry them into the kitchen," urged the mother.

  They went out together and in a few moments the boy saw his father coming along with Morten Goosey-Gander and Dunfin—one under each arm. He and his wife went into the cabin.

  The goosey-gander cried:

  "Thumbietot, come and help me!"—as he always did when in peril—although he was not aware that the boy was at hand.

  Nils Holgersson heard him, yet he lingered at the door of the cow shed.

  He did not hesitate because he knew that it would be well for him if the goosey-gander were beheaded—at that moment he did not even remember this—but because he shrank from being seen by his parents.

  "They have a hard enough time of it already," he thought. "Must I bring them a new sorrow?"

  But when the door closed on the goosey-gander, the
boy was aroused.

  He dashed across the house yard, sprang up on the board-walk leading to the entrance door and ran into the hallway, where he kicked off his wooden shoes in the old accustomed way, and walked toward the door.

  All the while it went so much against the grain to appear before his father and mother that he could not raise his hand to knock.

  "But this concerns the life of the goosey-gander," he said to himself—"he who has been my best friend ever since I last stood here."

  In a twinkling the boy remembered all that he and the goosey-gander had suffered on ice-bound lakes and stormy seas and among wild beasts of prey. His heart swelled with gratitude; he conquered himself and knocked on the door.

  "Is there some one who wishes to come in?" asked his father, opening the door.

  "Mother, you sha'n't touch the goosey-gander!" cried the boy.

  Instantly both the goosey-gander and Dunfin, who lay on a bench with their feet tied, gave a cry of joy, so that he was sure they were alive.

  Some one else gave a cry of joy—his mother!

  "My, but you have grown tall and handsome!" she exclaimed.

  The boy had not entered the cabin, but was standing on the doorstep, like one who is not quite certain how he will be received.

  "The Lord be praised that I have you back again!" said his mother, laughing and crying. "Come in, my boy! Come in!"

  "Welcome!" added his father, and not another word could he utter.

  But the boy still lingered at the threshold. He could not comprehend why they were so glad to see him—such as he was. Then his mother came and put her arms around him and drew him into the room, and he knew that he was all right.

  "Mother and father!" he cried. "I'm a big boy. I am a human being again!"

  THE PARTING WITH THE WILD GEESE

  Wednesday, November ninth.

  The boy arose before dawn and wandered down to the coast. He was standing alone on the strand east of Smyge fishing hamlet before sunrise. He had already been in the pen with Morten Goosey-Gander to try to rouse him, but the big white gander had no desire to leave home. He did not say a word, but only stuck his bill under his wing and went to sleep again.

  To all appearances the weather promised to be almost as perfect as it had been that spring day when the wild geese came to Skåne. There was hardly a ripple on the water; the air was still and the boy thought of the good passage the geese would have. He himself was as yet in a kind of daze—sometimes thinking he was an elf, sometimes a human being. When he saw a stone hedge alongside the road, he was afraid to go farther until he had made sure that no wild animal or vulture lurked behind it. Very soon he laughed to himself and rejoiced because he was big and strong and did not have to be afraid of anything.

  When he reached the coast he stationed himself, big as he was, at the very edge of the strand, so that the wild geese could see him.

  It was a busy day for the birds of passage. Bird calls sounded on the air continuously. The boy smiled as he thought that no one but himself understood what the birds were saying to one another. Presently wild geese came flying; one big flock following another.

  "Just so it's not my geese that are going away without bidding me farewell," he thought. He wanted so much to tell them how everything had turned out, and to show them that he was no longer an elf but a human being.

  There came a flock that flew faster and cackled louder than the others, and something told him that this must be the flock, but now he was not quite so sure about it as he would have been the day before.

  The flock slackened its flight and circled up and down along the coast.

  The boy knew it was the right one, but he could not understand why the geese did not come straight down to him. They could not avoid seeing him where he stood. He tried to give a call that would bring them down to him, but only think! his tongue would not obey him. He could not make the right sound! He heard Akka's calls, but did not understand what she said.

  "What can this mean? Have the wild geese changed their language?" he wondered.

  He waved his cap to them and ran along the shore calling.

  "Here am I, where are you?"

  But this seemed only to frighten the geese. They rose and flew farther out to sea. At last he understood. They did not know that he was human, had not recognized him. He could not call them to him because human beings can not speak the language of birds. He could not speak their language, nor could he understand it.

  Although the boy was very glad to be released from the enchantment, still he thought it hard that because of this he should be parted from his old comrades.

  He sat down on the sands and buried his face in his hands. What was the use of his gazing after them any more?

  Presently he heard the rustle of wings. Old mother Akka had found it hard to fly away from Thumbietot, and turned back, and now that the boy sat quite still she ventured to fly nearer to him. Suddenly something must have told her who he was, for she lit close beside him.

  Nils gave a cry of joy and took old Akka in his arms. The other wild geese crowded round him and stroked him with their bills. They cackled and chattered and wished him all kinds of good luck, and he, too, talked to them and thanked them for the wonderful journey which he had been privileged to make in their company.

  All at once the wild geese became strangely quiet and withdrew from him, as if to say:

  "Alas! he is a man. He does not understand us: we do not understand him!"

  Then the boy rose and went over to Akka; he stroked her and patted her. He did the same to Yksi and Kaksi, Kolme and Neljä, Viisi and Kuusi—the old birds who had been his companions from the very start.

  After that he walked farther up the strand. He knew perfectly well that the sorrows of the birds do not last long, and he wanted to part with them while they were still sad at losing him.

  As he crossed the shore meadows he turned and watched the many flocks of birds that were flying over the sea. All were shrieking their coaxing calls—only one goose flock flew silently on as long as he could follow it with his eyes. The wedge was perfect, the speed good, and the wing strokes strong and certain.

  The boy felt such a yearning for his departing comrades that he almost wished he were Thumbietot again and could travel over land and sea with a flock of wild geese.

  TABLE OF PRONUNCIATION

  The final e is sounded in Skåne, Sirle, Gripe, etc.

  The å in Skåne and Småland is pronounced like o in ore.

  j is like the English y. Nuolja, Oviksfjällen, Sjangeli, Jarro, etc., should sound as if they were spelled like this: Nuolya, Oviksfyellen, Syang [one syllable] elee, Yarro, etc.

  g, when followed by e, i, y, ä, ö, is also like y. Example, Göta is pronounced Yöta.

  When g is followed by a, o, u, or å, it is hard, as in go.

  k in Norrköping, Linköping, Kivik (pronounced Cheeveek), etc., is like ch in cheer.

  k is hard when it precedes a, o, u, or å. Example, Kaksi, Kolmi, etc.

  ä is pronounced like ä in fare. Example, Färs.

  There is no sound in the English language which corresponds to the

  Swedish ö. It is like the French eu in jeu.

  Gripe is pronounced Greep-e.

  In Sirle, the first syllable has the same sound as sir, in sirup.

  The names which Miss Lagerlöf has given to the animals are descriptive.

  Smirre Fox, is cunning fox.

  Sirle Squirrel, is graceful, or nimble squirrel.

  Gripe Otter, means grabbing or clutching otter.

  Mons is a pet name applied to cats; like our tommy or pussy. Monsie house-cat is equivalent to Tommy house-cat.

  Mårten gåskarl (Morten Goosie-gander) is a pet name for a tame gander, just as we use Dickie-bird for a pet bird.

  Fru is the Swedish for Mrs. This title is usually applied to gentlewomen only. The author has used this meaning of "fru."

  A Goa-Nisse is an elf-king, and corresponds to the English Puck or Robin
Goodfellow.

  VELMA SWANSTON HOWARD.

  THE WONDERFUL ADVENTURES OF NILS HOLGERSSON

  by

  SELMA LAGERLÖF

  TRANSLATED FROM SWEDISH BY

  VELMA SWANSTON HOWARD

  E-BOOK PRODUCTION: GRAMMOFONBOLAGET

  ISBN-978-91-87155-02-4

  PUBLISHED BY GRAMMOFONBOLAGET

  © PUBLIC DOMAIN