tufts and hollows, coming nearer and nearer to the goosey-gander ­ without his
seeming to notice that he was being hunted. At last the foxes were so near that
they could make the final leap. Simultaneously, all three threw themselves with
one long jump at the goosey-gander.
But yet at the last moment he must have noticed something, for he ran out of the
way, and the foxes missed him. This, at any rate, didn't mean very much, for the
goosey-gander only had a couple of metres headway, and, in the bargain, he
limped. Anyhow, the poor thing ran ahead as fast as he could.
The boy sat upon the goose-back ­ backward ­ and shrieked and called to the
foxes. "You have eaten yourselves too fat on mutton, foxes. You can't catch up
with a goose even." He teased them so that they became crazed with rage and
thought only of rushing forward.
The white one ran right straight to the big cleft. When he was there, he made
one stroke with his wings, and was over. Just then the foxes were almost upon
him.
The goosey-gander hurried on with the same haste as before, even after he had
got across Hell's Hole. But he had hardly run two metres when the boy patted him
on the neck, and said: "Now you can stop, goosey-gander."
At that instant they heard wild howls behind them, and a scraping of claws, and
heavy falls. But of the foxes they saw nothing more.
The next morning the keeper of the lighthouse on Great Karl's Island found a bit
of bark poked under the entrance-door, and on it was carved in slanting, angular
letters: "The foxes on the little island have fallen down into Hell's Hole. Take
care of them!"
And this the keeper of the lighthouse did, too.
[Next]
Chapter XIV.
"Chapter XIV." 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. 169-183.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TWO CITIES
THE CITY AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA
Saturday, April ninth.
IT WAS a calm and clear night. The wild geese did not bother to seek shelter in
any of the grottoes, but stood and slept on the mountain top; and the boy had
lain down in the short, dry grass beside the geese.
It was bright moonlight that night; so bright that it was difficult for the boy
to go to sleep. He lay there wondering how long he had been away from home and
figured out that it was three weeks since he had started on the trip. At the
same time he remembered that this was Easter-eve.
"It is to-night that all the witches come home from Blåkulla," thought he,
laughing to himself. For he was just a little afraid of both the water-sprite
and the elf, but he didn't believe the least little bit in witches.
If there had been any witches out that night, he should have seen them, to be
sure. It was so light in the heavens that not the tiniest black speck could move
in the air without his seeing it.
As the boy lay there with his nose in the air thinking about this, he caught
sight of something lovely! The moon's disc was whole and round, and rather high,
and over it a big bird came flying. It did not fly past the moon, but moved as
if it might have flown out from it. The bird looked black against the light
background, and the wings extended from one rim of the disc to the other. It
flew on evenly, in the same direction, and the boy thought that it was painted
on the moon. The body was small, the neck long and slender, the legs hung down,
long and thin. It couldn't be anything but a stork.
A couple of seconds later Herr Ermenrich, the stork, lit beside the boy. He bent
down and poked him with his bill, to awaken him.
Instantly the boy sat up. "I'm not asleep, Herr Ermenrich," he said. "How does
it happen that you are out in the middle of the night, and how is everything at
Glimminge castle? Do you want to speak with mother Akka?"
"It's too light to sleep to-night," answered Herr Ermenrich. "Therefore I
decided to fly over here to Karl's Island to hunt you up, friend Thumbietot. I
learned from the seamew that you were spending the night here. I have not as yet
moved over to Glimminge castle, but am still living at Pommern."
The boy was simply overjoyed to think that Herr Ermenrich had sought him out.
They chatted about all sorts of things, like old friends. At last the stork
asked the boy if he wouldn't like to go out riding for a while on this beautiful
night.
Oh, yes! that the boy wanted to do, if the stork would manage to get him back to
the wild geese before sunrise. This he promised, so off they went.
Again Herr Ermenrich flew straight toward the moon. They rose and rose; the sea
sank deep down, but the flight went so light and easy that to the boy it seemed
almost as if he were lying still in the air.
When Herr Ermenrich began to descend, the boy thought that the flight had lasted
an unreasonably short time.
They landed on a desolate bit of seashore that was covered with fine, even sand.
All along the coast ran a row of sand-dunes with lyme-grass on their tops. They
were not very high, but they prevented the boy from seeing any of the island.
Herr Ermenrich stood on a dune, drew up one leg and bent his head backward, so
he could stick his bill under his wing. "You can roam around on the shore for a
while," he said to Thumbietot, "while I rest myself. But don't go so far away
that you can't find your way back to me!"
To start with, the boy intended to climb a sand-dune to see how the land behind
it looked. But when he had gone a couple of paces, he stubbed the toe of his
wooden shoe against something hard. He stooped down, and saw a small copper coin
lying on the sand. The coin was so worn with verdigris that it was almost
transparent; and so poor that he didn't even bother to pick it up, but only
kicked it out of the way.
When he straightened up he was perfectly astounded, for two paces away from him
stood a high, dark wall with a big, turreted gate.
The moment before the boy had bent down, the sea lay there ­ shimmering and
smooth, while now it was hidden by a long wall with towers and battlements.
Directly in front of him, where before there had been only a few sea-weed banks,
the big gate of the wall opened.
The boy probably understood that it was a spectre play of some sort; but this
was nothing to be afraid of, thought he. It wasn't any dangerous witch or troll,
or any other evil ­ such as he always dreaded to encounter at night. Both the
wall and the gate were so beautifully constructed that his only desire was to
see what there might be back of them. "I must find out what this is," thought
he, and went in through the gate.
In the deep archway were guards, dressed in brocaded and puffed suits, their
long-handled spears beside them ­ who sat and threw dice. They thought only of
the game, and took no notice of the boy who hurried past them.
Just within the gate he found an open space, paved with large, even stones.
Round about were rows of high and magnificent buildings, between which opened
long, narrow streets. On the square ­ facing the gate ­ it fairly swarmed with
human beings. The men wore long, fur-trimmed capes over satin suits;
plume-bedecked hats sat obliquely on their heads; on their chests hung superb
chains. They were all so regally attired that the whole lot of them might have
been kings.
The women went about in high headdresses and long robes with tight-fitting
sleeves. They, too, were beautifully dressed, but their splendour was not to be
compared with that of the men.
This was exactly like the old story-book which mother took from the chest ­ only
once ­ and showed to him. The boy simply couldn't believe his eyes.
But that which was even more wonderful to look at than either the men or the
women, was the city itself. Every house was built with a gable faced the street.
And the gables were so highly ornamented that one would think they were trying
to compete with each other as to which could show the most beautiful
decorations.
When suddenly seeing so much that is new, one cannot manage to treasure it all
in one's memory. But at least the boy could recall having seen stairway gables
on the various landings which bore images of the Christ and his Apostles; gables
where there were images in niche after niche all along the wall; gables that
were inlaid with multi-coloured bits of glass, and gables that were striped and
checked in white and black marble. As the boy was admiring all this, a sudden
sense of haste came over him. "Anything like this my eyes have never seen
before. Anything like this, they would never see again," he said to himself. And
he ran into the city ­ up one street, and down another.
The streets were straight and narrow, but not empty and gloomy, as they were in
the cities with which he was familiar. There were people everywhere. Old women
sat by their open doors and spun without a spinning-wheel ­ only with the help
of a shuttle. The merchants' shops were like market-stalls ­ opening onto the
street. All the handicraftsmen did their work out of doors. In one place they
were boiling crude oil; in another tanning hides; in a third there was a long
rope-walk.
If only the boy had had time enough he could have learned how to make all sorts
of things. Here he saw how armourers hammered out thin breast-plates; how
jewellers set precious stones in rings and bracelets; how turners tended their
irons; how the shoemakers soled soft, red shoes; how the gold-wire drawers
twisted gold thread, and how the weavers inserted silver and gold into their
cloth.
But the boy did not have the time to stay. He only rushed on, that he might see
as much as possible before all would vanish again..
The high wall ran clear round the city and fenced it in, as a hedge shuts in a
field. He saw it at the end of every street ­ gable-ornamented and crenelated.
On the top of the wall walked warriors in shining armour; and when he had run
from one end of the city to the other, he came to still another gate in the
wall. Beyond this wall lay the sea and harbour. The boy saw olden-time ships,
with rowing-benches straight across, and high structures fore and aft. Some lay
and took on cargo, others were just casting anchor. Carriers and merchants
hurried past each other. All over there was life and bustle.
But not even here did he have the time to linger. He rushed into the city again;
and now he came up to the big square. There stood the cathedral with its three
high towers and deep vaulted arches filled with images. Its walls had been so
richly decorated by sculptors that there was not a stone without its own special
ornamentation. And what a magnificent display of gilded crosses, and
gold-trimmed altars, and priests in golden vestments shimmered through the open
gate! Directly opposite the church there was a house with a notched roof and a
single slender, sky-high tower. That was probably the courthouse. And between
the courthouse and the cathedral, all around the square, stood the beautiful
gabled houses, with their multiplicity of adornments.
The boy had run himself both warm and tired. He thought that now he had seen the
most remarkable things, and therefore he began to walk more leisurely. The
street into which he had turned was surely the one where the inhabitants
purchased their fine clothing. He saw crowds of people standing before the
little stalls where the merchants spread brocades, stiff satins, heavy gold
cloth, shimmery velvet, delicate veiling, and laces as sheer as a spider's web.
Before, when the boy ran so fast, no one had paid any attention to him. The
people must have thought it was only a little gray rat that darted by them. But
now, as he walked down the street, very leisurely, one of the salesmen caught
sight of him, and began to beckon to him.
At first the boy was uneasy and wanted to hurry out of the way, but the salesman
only beckoned and smiled, and spread out on the counter a lovely piece of satin
damask, as if to tempt him.
The boy shook his head. "I will never be so rich that I can buy even a yard of
that cloth," thought he.
But now they had caught sight of him in every stall, all along the street.
Wherever he looked stood a salesman beckoning to him. They left their costly
wares, and thought only of him. He saw how they hurried into the most hidden
corner of the stall to fetch the best they had to sell, and how their hands
trembled with eagerness and haste as they laid it upon the counter.
When the boy kept going, one of the merchants jumped over the counter, caught
hold of him, and spread before him silver cloth and woven tapestries, which
shone in brilliant colours.
The boy could only laugh at him. The salesman must surely understand that a poor
little creature like him couldn't buy such things. He stood still and held out
his two empty hands so they would understand that he had nothing, and let him go
in peace.
But the merchant raised a finger and nodded and pushed the whole pile of
beautiful things over to him.
"Can he mean that he will sell all this for a gold piece?" wondered the boy.
The merchant brought out a tiny worn and poor coin ­ the smallest there was ­
and showed it to him. And he was so eager to sell that he increased his pile
with a pair of large, heavy, silver goblets.
Then the boy began to dig down in his pockets. He knew, of course, that he
didn't possess a single coin, but he couldn't help feeling for it.
All the other merchants stood by to see how the sale would come off, and when
they observed that the boy began to search in his pockets, they flung themselves
over the counters, took up handfuls of gold and silver ornaments, and offered
