couldn't possibily hold on; but must fall in some direction.
It was even worse when they reached the big bird-track, of which the gray goose
had spoken. Flock after flock came flying in exactly the same direction. They
seemed to follow a fixed route. There were ducks and gray geese, surf-scoters
and guillemots, loons and pin-tail ducks and mergansers and grebes and
oyster-catchers and sea-grouse. But now, when the boy leaned forward and looked
in the direction where the sea ought to lie, he saw the entire bird procession
reflected in the water. But he was so dizzy that he didn't understand how this
had come about; he thought that all the birds flew with their bellies upside
down. Still he didn't wonder so much at this, for he did not himself know which
was up and which was down.
The birds were tired out and impatient to get on. Not one of them shrieked or
said a funny thing, and this made everything seem peculiarly unreal.
"Think, if we have travelled away from the earth!" he said to himself. "Think,
if we are on our way up to heaven!"
He saw nothing but mists and birds around him, and began to look upon it as
reasonable that they were travelling heavenward. He was glad, and wondered what
he should see up there. The dizziness passed all at once. He was so exceedingly
happy in the thought that he was on his way to heaven and was leaving this
earth.
Just about then he heard a couple of loud shots, and saw two white smoke-columns
rise.
There was a sudden awakening and an unrest among the birds. "Hunters! Hunters!"
they cried. "Fly high! Fly away!"
Then the boy finally saw that they were travelling all the while over the
seacoast and that they were certainly not in heaven. In a long row lay small
boats filled with hunters, who fired shot upon shot. The nearest bird-flocks
hadn't noticed them in time. They had flown too low. Several dark bodies sank
down toward the sea; and for every one that fell there arose cries of anguish
from the living.
It was strange for one who had but lately believed himself in heaven to wake up
suddenly to such fear and lamentation. Akka shot toward the heights and the
flock followed with the greatest possible speed. The wild geese got safely out
of the way, but the boy couldn't get over his amazement. "To think that any one
could wish to shoot at such as Akka and Yksi and Kaksi and the goosey-gander and
the others! Human beings had no conception of what they did."
So it bore on again, in the still air, and all was as quiet as before, but for
some of the tired birds calling out every now and then: "Are we not there soon?
Are you sure we're on the right track?" Whereupon, the leaders answered: "We are
flying straight to Öland; straight to Öland."
The gray geese were tired out, and the loons circled around them. "Don't be in
such a rush!" cried the ducks. "You'll eat up all the food before we get there."
"Oh! There'll be enough for all of us," answered the loons.
Before they had gone far enough to sight Öland, a light wind blew against them.
It brought with it something that looked like immense clouds of white smoke ­ as
if there was a big fire somewhere.
When the birds saw the first white spiral haze, they became uneasy and increased
their speed. But that which resembled smoke blew thicker and thicker, and at
last it enveloped them altogether. There was no odor of smoke; and this smoke
was not dark and dry, but white and damp. Suddenly the boy realized that it was
only a mist.
When the mist became so thick that they couldn't see a goose-length ahead, the
birds began to carry on like real lunatics. All who before had travelled forward
in such perfect order now began to play in the mist. They flew hither and
thither to entice one another astray. "Be careful!" they cried. "You're only
travelling round and round. Turn back, for pity's sake! You'll never get to
Öland that way."
They all knew perfectly well where the island was, but they tried their best to
lead each other astray. "Look at those wagtails!" rang out in the mist. "They
are going back toward the North Sea!" "Have a care, wild geese!" shrieked some
one from another direction. "If you continue like this, you'll get clear up to
Rugen."
There was of course no danger that the birds who were accustomed to travel here
would permit themselves to be lured in a wrong direction. But the ones who had a
hard time of it were the wild geese! The jesters observed that they were
uncertain as to the way, and did all they could to confuse them.
"Where are you bound for, good people?" called a swan. He came right up to Akka,
looking sympathetic and serious.
"We are travelling to Öland; but we have never been there before," said Akka.
She thought that here was a bird to be trusted.
"It's too bad," said the swan, "they have lured you in the wrong direction.
You're on the road to Blekinge. Now come with me, and I'll put you right!"
So he flew off with them, and when he had taken them so far away from the track
that they could hear no calls, he disappeared in the mist.
They flew around a while at random. They had barely succeeded in tracking the
birds when a duck approached them. "You'd better lie down on the water until the
mist clears," said the duck. "It is evident that you are not accustomed to
looking out for yourself on journeys."
Those rogues succeeded in making Akka's head swim. As near as the boy could make
out, the wild geese circled round and round for a long time.
"Be careful! Can't you see that you are flying up and down?" shouted a loon as
he rushed by.
The boy positively clutched the goosey-gander around the neck. This was
something which he had feared for a long time.
If they had not heard a rolling and muffled sound in the distance, no one could
have told when they would have arrived.
Then Akka craned her neck, snapped hard with her wings, and rushed on at full
speed. Now she had something to go by. The gray goose had told her not to light
on Öland's southern point, because there was a cannon there, which the people
used to shoot at the mist. Now she knew the way, and now no one in the world
could lead her astray.
[Next]
Chapter XI.
"Chapter XI." by Selma Lagerlöf (1858-1940), translated by Velma Swanston
Howard.
From: The Wonderful Adventures of Nils. by Selma Lagerlöf. New York: Doubleday,
Page & Company, 1922, pp. 139-148.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ÖLAND'S SOUTHERN POINT
April, third to sixth.
ON THE most southerly part of Öland lies a royal demesne, called Ottenby. It is
a rather large estate which extends from shore to shore, straight across the
island; and it is remarkable in that it has always been a haunt for large
bird-companies.
In the Seventeenth Century, when the kings used to go over to Öland to hunt, the
entire estate was simply a deer park. In the Eighteenth Century there was a stud
there, where blooded race-horses were bred; and a sheep farm, where hundreds of
sheep were maintained. In our day you'll find neither blooded horses nor sheep
at Ottenby, but great herds of young horses, which are to be used by the
cavalry. And in all the land there could be no better abode for animals.
Along the extreme eastern shore lies the old sheep meadow which is a mile and a
half long, and the largest meadow in all Öland. There animals can graze and play
and run about as free as if they were in a wilderness. And there you will find
the celebrated Ottenby Grove with the hundred-year old oaks, which give shade
from the sun, and shelter from the severe Öland winds. And we must not forget
the long Ottenby wall, which stretches from shore to shore, and separates
Ottenby from the rest of the island, so that the animals may know how far the
old royal demesne extends and be careful about getting in on other ground, where
they are not so well protected.
You'll find plenty of tame animals at Ottenby, but that isn't all. One could
almost believe that the wild ones also felt that on an old crown property both
the wild and the tame creatures can count upon shelter and protection ­ since
they venture there in such great numbers.
Besides, there are still a few stags of the old stock left; and burrow ducks,
and partridges love to live there, and it offers a resting place in spring and
late summer for thousands of migratory birds. Above all, it is on the swampy
eastern shore below the sheep meadow where the migratory birds alight to rest
and feed.
When the wild geese and Nils had finally found their way to Öland, they came
down, like all the rest, on the shore near the sheep meadow. The mist lay thick
over the island, as well as over the sea. But still the boy was amazed at all
the birds which he discovered only on the little narrow stretch of shore which
he could see.
It was a low sand-shore with stones and pools, and heaps of cast-up seaweed. If
the boy had been permitted to choose, it isn't likely that he would have thought
of alighting there; but the birds probably looked upon this as a veritable
paradise. Ducks and geese walked about and fed on the meadow; nearer to the
water ran snipe, and other coast-birds. The loons lay in the sea and fished, but
the greatest life and movement was upon the seaweed banks along the coast. There
the birds stood side by side close together and gobbled grub-worms which must
have been found there in limitless numbers, for it was very evident that there
was never any complaint over a lack of food.
The great majority were going to travel farther, and had only alighted to take a
short rest; and as soon as the leader of a flock thought his comrades
sufficiently refreshed he said, "If you are ready now, we may as well move on."
"No, wait, wait! We haven't had anything like enough," cried the company.
"You surely don't believe that I intend to let you eat so much that you will not
be able to move?" said the leader, flapping his wings and starting off. Along
the outermost seaweed banks lay a flock of swans. They didn't bother to go on
land, but rested themselves by lying and rocking on the water. Now and then they
would thrust their necks under the water and bring up food from the sea-bottom.
When they got hold of anything very good, they indulged in loud shouts that
sounded like trumpet calls.
When the boy heard that there were swans on the shoals, he hurried out to the
seaweed banks. He had never before seen wild swans at close range. He had the
good luck to get quite close to them.
The boy was not the only one who had heard the swans. Wild geese, gray geese and
loons swam out between the banks, formed a ring around the swans and stared at
them. The swans ruffled their feathers, raised their wings like sails, and
stretched their necks high in the air. Occasionally one and another of them swam
up to a goose, or a great loon, or a diving-duck, and said a few words. And then
it appeared as though the one addressed hardly dared raise his bill to reply.
But then there was a little loon ­ a tiny mischievous baggage ­ that couldn't
stand all this ceremony. He made a quick dive, and disappeared. Soon after that,
one of the swans let out a scream, and swam off so quickly that the water
foamed. Then he stopped and began to look majestic once more. Presently another
one shrieked in the same way as the first one, and then a third.
The little loon wasn't able to stay under water any longer, but bobbed up to the
water's edge, little and black and venomous. The swans rushed toward him; but
when they saw what a poor little wretch it was, they turned abruptly ­ as if
they considered themselves too good to quarrel with him. Then the little loon
dived again, and pinched their feet. It certainly must have hurt; but the worst
was that they could not maintain ther dignity. At once they took a decided
stand. They began to beat the air with their wings so that it thundered; came
forward a bit ­ as if running on the water ­ finally they got wind under their
wings, and rose.
When the swans were gone they were greatly missed; and those who had but lately
been amused by the little loon's antics scolded him for his thoughtlessness.
The boy walked back toward firm land again, where he stationed himself to watch
the pool-snipe play. They resembled small storks, and like these, had small
bodies, tall legs, long necks, and light, swaying movements; only they were not
gray, but brown. They stood in a long row on the shore where it was washed by
waves. As soon as a wave rolled in, the whole row ran backward; as soon as it
receded, they followed it. And they kept this up for hours.
The showiest of all the birds were the burrow-ducks. They were undoubtedly
related to the ordinary ducks; for, like these, they too had a thick-set body, a
broad bill, aand webbed feet; but they were much more elaborately gotten up. The
feather dress itself was white; around the neck they wore a broad gold band; the
wing-mirror shimmered in green, red, and black; the wing-tips were black, the
head was a dark green and shone like satin.
As soon as any of these appeared on the shore, the others would say: "Now, just
look at those freaks! They know how to tog themselves out." "If they were not so
conspicuous, they wouldn't have to dig their nests in the earth, but could lie
above ground, like any one else," said a brown mallard-duck. "They may try as
much as they please, but they'll never get anywhere with such noses," remarked a
gray goose. And this was actually true. The burrow-ducks have a big knob at the
