alighting. But a little south ofthe city and not far from the sea, lies Ronneby health-spring, with itsbath house and spring house; with its big hotel and summer cottages forthe spring's guests. All these stand empty and desolate in winter--whichthe birds know perfectly well; and many are the bird-companies who seekshelter on the deserted buildings' balustrades and balconies during hardstorm-times.
Here the wild geese lit on a balcony, and, as usual, they fell asleep atonce. The boy, on the contrary, could not sleep because he hadn't caredto creep in under the goosey-gander's wing.
The balcony faced south, so the boy had an outlook over the sea. Andsince he could not sleep, he sat there and saw how pretty it looked whensea and land meet, here in Blekinge.
You see that sea and land can meet in many different ways. In manyplaces the land comes down toward the sea with flat, tufted meadows, andthe sea meets the land with flying sand, which piles up in mounds anddrifts. It appears as though they both disliked each other so much thatthey only wished to show the poorest they possessed. But it can alsohappen that, when the land comes toward the sea, it raises a wall ofhills in front of it--as though the sea were something dangerous. Whenthe land does this, the sea comes up to it with fiery wrath, and beatsand roars and lashes against the rocks, and looks as if it would tearthe land-hill to pieces.
But in Blekinge it is altogether different when sea and land meet. Therethe land breaks itself up into points and islands and islets; and thesea divides itself into fiords and bays and sounds; and it is, perhaps,this which makes it look as if they must meet in happiness and harmony.
Think now first and foremost of the sea! Far out it lies desolate andempty and big, and has nothing else to do but to roll its gray billows.When it comes toward the land, it happens across the first obstacle.This it immediately overpowers; tears away everything green, and makesit as gray as itself. Then it meets still another obstacle. With this itdoes the same thing. And still another. Yes, the same thing happens tothis also. It is stripped and plundered, as if it had fallen intorobbers' hands. Then the obstacles come nearer and nearer together, andthen the sea must understand that the land sends toward it her littlestchildren, in order to move it to pity. It also becomes more friendly thefarther in it comes; rolls its waves less high; moderates its storms;lets the green things stay in cracks and crevices; separates itself intosmall sounds and inlets, and becomes at last so harmless in the land,that little boats dare venture out on it. It certainly cannot recogniseitself--so mild and friendly has it grown.
And then think of the hillside! It lies uniform, and looks the samealmost everywhere. It consists of flat grain-fields, with one andanother birch-grove between them; or else of long stretches of forestranges. It appears as if it had thought about nothing but grain andturnips and potatoes and spruce and pine. Then comes a sea-fiord thatcuts far into it. It doesn't mind that, but borders it with birch andalder, just as if it was an ordinary fresh-water lake. Then stillanother wave comes driving in. Nor does the hillside bother itself aboutcringing to this, but it, too, gets the same covering as the first one.Then the fiords begin to broaden and separate, they break up fields andwoods and then the hillside cannot help but notice them. "I believe itis the sea itself that is coming," says the hillside, and then it beginsto adorn itself. It wreathes itself with blossoms, travels up and downin hills and throws islands into the sea. It no longer cares about pinesand spruces, but casts them off like old every day clothes, and paradeslater with big oaks and lindens and chestnuts, and with blossoming leafybowers, and becomes as gorgeous as a manor-park. And when it meets thesea, it is so changed that it doesn't know itself. All this one cannotsee very well until summertime; but, at any rate, the boy observed howmild and friendly nature was; and he began to feel calmer than he hadbeen before, that night. Then, suddenly, he heard a sharp and ugly yowlfrom the bath-house park; and when he stood up he saw, in the whitemoonlight, a fox standing on the pavement under the balcony. For Smirrehad followed the wild geese once more. But when he had found the placewhere they were quartered, he had understood that it was impossible toget at them in any way; then he had not been able to keep from yowlingwith chagrin.
When the fox yowled in this manner, old Akka, the leader-goose, wasawakened. Although she could see nothing, she thought she recognised thevoice. "Is it you who are out to-night, Smirre?" said she. "Yes," saidSmirre, "it is I; and I want to ask what you geese think of the nightthat I have given you?"
"Do you mean to say that it is you who have sent the marten and otteragainst us?" asked Akka. "A good turn shouldn't be denied," said Smirre."You once played the goose-game with me, now I have begun to play thefox-game with you; and I'm not inclined to let up on it so long as asingle one of you still lives even if I have to follow you the worldover!"
"You, Smirre, ought at least to think whether it is right for you, whoare weaponed with both teeth and claws, to hound us in this way; we, whoare without defence," said Akka.
Smirre thought that Akka sounded scared, and he said quickly: "If you,Akka, will take that Thumbietot--who has so often opposed me--and throwhim down to me, I'll promise to make peace with you. Then I'll nevermore pursue you or any of yours." "I'm not going to give youThumbietot," said Akka. "From the youngest of us to the oldest, we wouldwillingly give our lives for his sake!" "Since you're so fond of him,"said Smirre, "I'll promise you that he shall be the first among you thatI will wreak vengeance upon."
Akka said no more, and after Smirre had sent up a few more yowls, allwas still. The boy lay all the while awake. Now it was Akka's words tothe fox that prevented him from sleeping. Never had he dreamed that heshould hear anything so great as that anyone was willing to risk lifefor his sake. From that moment, it could no longer be said of NilsHolgersson that he did not care for anyone.
KARLSKRONA
_Saturday, April second_.
It was a moonlight evening in Karlskrona--calm and beautiful. Butearlier in the day, there had been rain and wind; and the people musthave thought that the bad weather still continued, for hardly one ofthem had ventured out on the streets.
While the city lay there so desolate, Akka, the wild goose, and herflock, came flying toward it over Vemmoen and Pantarholmen. They were outin the late evening to seek a sleeping place on the islands. Theycouldn't remain inland because they were disturbed by Smirre Foxwherever they lighted.
When the boy rode along high up in the air, and looked at the sea andthe islands which spread themselves before him, he thought thateverything appeared so strange and spook-like. The heavens were nolonger blue, but encased him like a globe of green glass. The sea wasmilk-white, and as far as he could see rolled small white waves tippedwith silver ripples. In the midst of all this white lay numerous littleislets, absolutely coal black. Whether they were big or little, whetherthey were as even as meadows, or full of cliffs, they looked just asblack. Even dwelling houses and churches and windmills, which at othertimes are white or red, were outlined in black against the green sky.The boy thought it was as if the earth had been transformed, and he wascome to another world.
He thought that just for this one night he wanted to be brave, and notafraid--when he saw something that really frightened him. It was a highcliff island, which was covered with big, angular blocks; and betweenthe blocks shone specks of bright, shining gold. He couldn't keep fromthinking of Maglestone, by Trolle-Ljungby, which the trolls sometimesraised upon high gold pillars; and he wondered if this was somethinglike that.
But with the stones and the gold it might have gone fairly well, if sucha lot of horrid things had not been lying all around the island. Itlooked like whales and sharks and other big sea-monsters. But the boyunderstood that it was the sea-trolls, who had gathered around theisland and intended to crawl up on it, to fight with the land-trolls wholived there. And those on the land were probably afraid, for he saw howa big giant stood on the highest point of the island and raised hisarms--as if in despair over all the misfortune that should come to himand his island.
The boy was not
a little terrified when he noticed that Akka began todescend right over that particular island! "No, for pity's sake! Wemust not light there," said he.
But the geese continued to descend, and soon the boy was astonished thathe could have seen things so awry. In the first place, the big stoneblocks were nothing but houses. The whole island was a city; and theshining gold specks were street lamps and lighted window-panes. Thegiant, who stood highest up on the island, and raised his arms, was achurch with two cross-towers; all the sea-trolls and monsters, which hethought he had seen, were boats and ships of every description, that layanchored all around the island. On the side which lay toward the landwere mostly row-boats and sailboats and small coast steamers; but on theside that faced the sea lay armour-clad battleships; some were broad,with very thick,
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