she. "The peasants who own us came out to us with hay and oaten straw, so we
shouldn't starve to death. And this trash is all there is left of the good
cheer."
The geese promptly made a rush for the food. They thought they had fared well,
and were in their best humour. They must have observed, however, that the sheep
were anxious; but they knew how easily scared sheep always are, and didn't
believe there was any actual danger on foot. As soon as they had eaten, they
meant to stand up to sleep as usual. But presently the big ram got up and walked
over to them. The geese thought they had never seen a sheep with such big and
coarse horns. In other respects, also, he was noticeable. He had a high, rolling
forehead, intelligent eyes, and a good bearing ­ as if he were a proud and
courageous animal.
"I cannot assume the responsibility of letting you geese remain, without telling
you that it is unsafe here," he said. "We cannot receive night guests just now."
At last Akka began to comprehend that this was serious. "We will go away, since
you really wish it," said she. "But won't you tell us first, what it is that
troubles you? We know nothing about it. We do not even know where we are." "This
is Little Karl's Island!" said the ram. "It lies outside of Gottland, and only
sheep and sea-birds live here." "Perhaps you are wild sheep?" said Akka. "We're
not far removed from it," replied the ram. "We have nothing to do with human
beings. It's an old agreement between us and some peasants on a farm in
Gottland, that they shall supply us with fodder in case we have snow-winter; and
as a recompense they are permitted to take away those of us who become
superfluous. The island is small, so it cannot feed very many of us. But
otherwise we take care of ourselves all the year around, and we do not live in
houses with doors and locks, but in grottoes like these."
"Do you stay out here in the winter as well?" asked Akka, surprised. "We do,"
answered the ram. "We have good fodder up here on the mountain throughout the
year." "It sounds as if you were better off than other sheep," said Akka. "But
what is the misfortune that has befallen you?" "It was bitter cold last winter.
The sea froze, and then three foxes came over the ice, and here they have been
ever since. Otherwise, there are no dangerous animals on the island." "Oho! do
foxes dare to attack such as you?" "Oh, no! not during the day, when I can
protect myself and mine," said the ram, shaking his horns . "But they sneak upon
us at night when we sleep in the grottoes. We try to keep awake, but one must
sleep some of the time; and then they come upon us. They have already killed
every sheep in the other grottoes, and there were herds that were just as large
as mine."
"It isn't pleasant to tell that we are so helpless," said the old ewe. "We
cannot defend ourselves any better than if we were tame sheep." "Do you think
that they will come here to-night?" asked Akka. "There is nothing else in store
for us," answered the old ewe. "They were here last night, and stole a lamb from
us. They'll be sure to come back, as long as there are any of us alive. That is
what they have done in the other places." "But if they are allowed to keep this
up, you'll become entirely extinct," said Akka. "Oh! it won't be long before
it's all over with the sheep on Little Karl's Island," sighed the ewe.
Akka stood there hesitatingly. It was by no means a pleasant prospect to venture
out in the storm again, nor was it well to remain in a house where such guests
were expected. When she had pondered a while, she turned to Thumbietot. "I
wonder if you will help us, as you have done so many times before, "said she.
Yes, that he would love to do, he replied. "It is a pity for you not to get any
sleep!" said the wild goose, "but I wonder if you are able to keep awake until
the foxes come, and then to awaken us, so we may fly away." The boy was not very
glad of this; but anything was better than going out in the storm again ­ so he
promised to keep awake.
He went over to the grotto opening, crawled in behind a stone that he might be
sheltered from the storm, and sat down to watch.
When the boy had been sitting there a while, the storm abated. The sky grew
clear and the moonlight began to play on the waves. The boy stepped to the
opening to look out. The grotto was rather high up on the mountain. A narrow and
steep path led to it. It was probably here that he must await the foxes.
As yet he saw no foxes; but, on the other hand, there was something which, for
the moment, terrified him much more. On the land-strip below the mountain stood
some giants, or other stone-trolls ­ or perhaps they were actual human beings.
He thought at first that he was dreaming, but now he was positive that he had
not fallen asleep. He saw the big men so distinctly that it could be no
illusion. Some stood on the land-strip, others right on the mountain-wall as if
about to climb it. Some had big, thick heads; others had no heads at all. Some
were one-armed, and some had humps both before and behind. He had never seen
anything so extraordinary.
The boy stood there and worked himself into a state of panic because of those
trolls, and he almost forgot to keep his eye peeled for the foxes. But now he
heard the scraping of claws saw three foxes coming up the steep. As soon as he
knew that he had something real to deal with, he was calm again, and not the
least bit scared. It occurred to him that it would be a pity to awaken only the
geese, and leave the sheep to their fate. He thought he would like to arrange
things some other way.
He ran quickly to the other end of the grotto, shook the big ram's horns until
he awoke, and at the same time swung himself upon his back. "Get up, daddy, and
we'll try to frighten the foxes a bit!" said the boy.
He had tried to be as quiet as possible, but the foxes must have heard some
noise; for when they came up to the mouth of the grotto they stopped and
deliberated. "It was certainly some one in there that moved," said one. "I
wonder if they are awake." "Just you go ahead!" said another. "At all events,
they can't do anything to us."
When they came farther into the grotto, they stopped and sniffed. "Whom shall we
take to-night?" whispered the one in the lead. "To-night we will take the big
ram," said the last. "After that, we'll have easy work with the rest."
The boy sat on the old ram's back and saw how they sneaked along. "Now butt
straight ahead!" whispered the boy. The ram butted, and the first fox was thrust
­ top over tail ­ back to the opening. "Now butt to the left!" said the boy,
turning the big ram's head in that direction. The ram measured a terrific
assault that caught the second fox in the side. He rolled over several times
before he got to his feet again and made his escape. The boy had wished that the
third one, too, might have got a bump, but this one had already skedaddled.
"Now I think that they've had enough for to-night," said the boy. "So do I,"
agreed the big ram. "Now lie down on my back, and creep into the wool! You
deserve to have it warm and comfortable, after all the wind and storm that you
have been out in."
HELL'S HOLE
THE next day the big ram went around with the boy on his back, and showed him
the island. It consisted of a single massive mountain. It was like a large house
with perpendicular walls and a flat roof. First the ram walked up on the
mountain roof and showed the boy the good grazing lands there; and he had to
admit that the island seemed to be especially created for sheep. There wasn't
much else than sheep-sorrel and such little spicy growths as sheep are fond of
that grew on the mountain.
But indeed there was something beside sheep fodder to look at, for one who was
well up on the cliff. To begin with, the large expanse of sea ­ which now lay
blue and sunlit, and rolled forward in glittering swells ­ was visible. Only
upon one and another point did the foam spray up. To the east lay Gottland, with
its even and long-stretched coast; and to the southwest lay Great Karl's Island,
which was built on the same plan as the little island. When the ram walked to
the very edge of the mountain roof, so the boy could look down the mountain
walls, he noticed that they were simply filled with birds' nests; and in the
blue sea beneath lay surf-scoters and eider-ducks and kittiwakes and guillemots
and razor-bills ­ so pretty and peaceful ­ busying themselves with fishing for
small herring.
"This is really a favoured land," said the boy. "You live in a pretty place, you
sheep." "Oh, yes! it's pretty enough here," said the big ram. It was as if he
wished to add something; but he didn't, he only sighed. "If you go about here
alone you must watch out for the crevices which run all around the mountain," he
cautioned after a pause. And this was a good warning, for there were deep and
broad crevices in several places. The largest of them was called Hell's Hole.
That crevice was many fathoms deep and nearly six feet wide. "If one were to
fall down there, it would certainly be the last of him," said the big ram. The
boy thought it sounded as if he had a special meaning in what he said.
Then he conducted the boy down to the narrow strip of shore. Now he could see
those giants that had frightened him the night before, at close range. They were
nothing but tall rock-pillars. The big ram called them "boulders." The boy
couldn't see enough of them. He thought that if there had ever been any trolls
who had turned into stone they ought to look just like that.
Although it was pretty down on the shore, the boy liked it even better on the
mountain height. It was ghastly down here; for everywhere they came across dead
sheep. It was here that the foxes held their orgies. He saw skeletons whose
flesh had been eaten, and bodies that were half-eaten, and others that they had
scarcely tasted. It was heart-rending to see how the wild beasts had thrown
themselves upon the sheep just for sport ­ only to hunt them and tear them to
death.
The big ram did not pause in front of the dead, but walked by them in silence.
But the boy, meanwhile, could not help seeing all the horror.
Then the big ram started up the mountain again. When he was there he stopped and
said: "If some one who is capable and wise could see all the misery which
prevails here he surely would not be able to rest until these foxes had been
punished." "The foxes must live, too," said the boy. "Yes," admitted the big
ram, "those who do not tear in pieces more animals than they need for their
sustenance, they may as well live. But these are felons." "The peasants who own
the island ought to come here and help you," insisted the boy. "They have rowed
over a number of times," replied the ram, "but the foxes always hid themselves
in the grottoes and crevices, so they could not shoot at them." "You surely
cannot mean, daddy, that a poor little creature like me should be able to get at
them, when neither you nor the peasants have succeeded in getting the better of
them." "One that is little and spry, can put many things to rights," said the
big ram.
They talked no more about this, and the boy went over and sat down among the
wild geese, who were feeding on the highland. Although he had not cared to show
his feelings before the ram, he was very sad on the sheep's account, and he
would have been glad to help them. "I can at least talk with Akka and Morten
Goosey-gander about the matter," thought he. "Perhaps they can help me with a
good suggestion."
A little later the white goosey-gander took the boy on his back and crossed the
mountain plain, in the direction of Hell's Hole at that!
He wandered, carefree, on the broad mountain roof ­ apparently unconscious of
how large and white he was. He didn't seek protection behind tufts, or any other
protuberances, but went straight ahead. It was singular that he was not more
careful, for it was obvious that he had fared badly in yesterday's storm. He
limped on his right leg, and his left wing hung and dragged as if it were
broken.
He acted as if there were no danger, pecked at a grass-blade here and another
there, and did not look about him in any direction. The boy lay stretched out
full length on the goose-back, and looked up toward the blue sky. He was so
accustomed to riding now that he could both stand and lie down on the
goose-back.
While the goosey-gander and the boy were so carefree, they did not observe, of
course, that the three foxes had come up on the mountain plain.
And the foxes, who knew that it was well-nigh impossible to take the life of a
goose on an open plain, thought at first that they wouldn't chase after the
goosey-gander. But since they had nothing else to do, they finally sneaked down
into one of the long cracks, and tried to steal up to him. They went about it so
cautiously that the goosey-gander couldn't see a shadow of them.
They were not far off when the goose-gander made an attempt to raise himself
into the air. He spread his wings, but he did not manage to lift himself. When
the foxes seemed to grasp the fact that he couldn't fly, they hurried forward
with greater eagerness than before. They no longer concealed themselves in the
cleft, but came out on the highland. They hurried as fast as they could, behind
