Nils Holgerssons underbara resa. English

by Selma Lagerlöf

you have come here to help me. The white goosey-gander hastold me that no one is as wise and as good as you."

  She said this with such dignity, that the boy grew really embarrassed."This surely can't be any bird," thought he. "It is certainly somebewitched princess."

  He was filled with a desire to help her, and ran his hand under thefeathers, and felt along the wing-bone. The bone was not broken, butthere was something wrong with the joint. He got his finger down intothe empty cavity. "Be careful, now!" he said; and got a firm grip on thebone-pipe and fitted it into the place where it ought to be. He did itvery quickly and well, considering it was the first time that he hadattempted anything of the sort. But it must have hurt very much, for thepoor young goose uttered a single shrill cry, and then sank down amongthe stones without showing a sign of life.

  The boy was terribly frightened. He had only wished to help her, and nowshe was dead. He made a big jump from the stone pile, and ran away. Hethought it was as though he had murdered a human being.

  The next morning it was clear and free from mist, and Akka said that nowthey should continue their travels. All the others were willing to go,but the white goosey-gander made excuses. The boy understood well enoughthat he didn't care to leave the gray goose. Akka did not listen to him,but started off.

  The boy jumped up on the goosey-gander's back, and the white onefollowed the flock--albeit slowly and unwillingly. The boy was mightyglad that they could fly away from the island. He was conscience-strickenon account of the gray goose, and had not cared to tell the goosey-ganderhow it had turned out when he had tried to cure her. It would probably bebest if Morten goosey-gander never found out about this, he thought,though he wondered, at the same time, how the white one had the heart toleave the gray goose.

  But suddenly the goosey-gander turned. The thought of the young graygoose had overpowered him. It could go as it would with the Laplandtrip: he couldn't go with the others when he knew that she lay alone andill, and would starve to death.

  With a few wing-strokes he was over the stone pile; but then, there layno young gray goose between the stones. "Dunfin! Dunfin! Where artthou?" called the goosey-gander.

  "The fox has probably been here and taken her," thought the boy. But atthat moment he heard a pretty voice answer the goosey-gander. "Here amI, goosey-gander; here am I! I have only been taking a morning bath."And up from the water came the little gray goose--fresh and in goodtrim--and told how Thumbietot had pulled her wing into place, and thatshe was entirely well, and ready to follow them on the journey.

  The drops of water lay like pearl-dew on her shimmery satin-likefeathers, and Thumbietot thought once again that she was a real littleprincess.

  THE BIG BUTTERFLY

  _Wednesday, April sixth_.

  The geese travelled alongside the coast of the long island, which laydistinctly visible under them. The boy felt happy and light of heartduring the trip. He was just as pleased and well satisfied as he hadbeen glum and depressed the day before, when he roamed around down onthe island, and hunted for the goosey-gander.

  He saw now that the interior of the island consisted of a barren highplain, with a wreath of fertile land along the coast; and he began tocomprehend the meaning of something which he had heard the otherevening.

  He had just seated himself to rest a bit by one of the many windmills onthe highland, when a couple of shepherds came along with the dogs besidethem, and a large herd of sheep in their train. The boy had not beenafraid because he was well concealed under the windmill stairs. But asit turned out, the shepherds came and seated themselves on the samestairway, and then there was nothing for him to do but to keep perfectlystill.

  One of the shepherds was young, and looked about as folks do mostly; theother was an old queer one. His body was large and knotty, but the headwas small, and the face had sensitive and delicate features. It appearedas though the body and head didn't want to fit together at all.

  One moment he sat silent and gazed into the mist, with an unutterablyweary expression. Then he began to talk to his companion. Then the otherone took out some bread and cheese from his knapsack, to eat his eveningmeal. He answered scarcely anything, but listened very patiently, justas if he were thinking: "I might as well give you the pleasure ofletting you chatter a while."

  "Now I shall tell you something, Eric," said the old shepherd. "I havefigured out that in former days, when both human beings and animals weremuch larger than they are now, that the butterflies, too, must have beenuncommonly large. And once there was a butterfly that was many mileslong, and had wings as wide as seas. Those wings were blue, and shonelike silver, and so gorgeous that, when the butterfly was out flying,all the other animals stood still and stared at it. It had thisdrawback, however, that it was too large. The wings had hard work tocarry it. But probably all would have gone very well, if the butterflyhad been wise enough to remain on the hillside. But it wasn't; itventured out over the East sea. And it hadn't gotten very far before thestorm came along and began to tear at its wings. Well, it's easy tounderstand, Eric, how things would go when the East sea storm commencedto wrestle with frail butterfly-wings. It wasn't long before they weretorn away and scattered; and then, of course, the poor butterfly fellinto the sea. At first it was tossed backward and forward on thebillows, and then it was stranded upon a few cliff-foundations outsideof Smaland. And there it lay--as large and long as it was.

  "Now I think, Eric, that if the butterfly had dropped on land, it wouldsoon have rotted and fallen apart. But since it fell into the sea, itwas soaked through and through with lime, and became as hard as a stone.You know, of course, that we have found stones on the shore which werenothing but petrified worms. Now I believe that it went the same waywith the big butterfly-body. I believe that it turned where it lay intoa long, narrow mountain out in the East sea. Don't you?"

  He paused for a reply, and the other one nodded to him. "Go on, so I mayhear what you are driving at," said he.

  "And mark you, Eric, that this very Oeland, upon which you and I live, isnothing else than the old butterfly-body. If one only thinks about it,one can observe that the island is a butterfly. Toward the north, theslender fore-body and the round head can be seen, and toward the south,one sees the back-body--which first broadens out, and then narrows to asharp point."

  Here he paused once more and looked at his companion rather anxiously tosee how he would take this assertion. But the young man kept on eatingwith the utmost calm, and nodded to him to continue.

  "As soon as the butterfly had been changed into a limestone rock, manydifferent kinds of seeds of herbs and trees came travelling with thewinds, and wanted to take root on it. It was a long time before anythingbut sedge could grow there. Then came sheep sorrel, and the rock-roseand thorn-brush. But even to-day there is not so much growth on Alvaret,that the mountain is well covered, but it shines through here and there.And no one can think of ploughing and sowing up here, where theearth-crust is so thin. But if you will admit that Alvaret and thestrongholds around it, are made of the butterfly-body, then you may wellhave the right to question where that land which lies beneath thestrongholds came from."

  "Yes, it is just that," said he who was eating. "That I should indeedlike to know."

  "Well, you must remember that Oeland has lain in the sea for a good manyyears, and in the course of time all the things which tumble around withthe waves--sea-weed and sand and clams--have gathered around it, andremained lying there. And then, stone and gravel have fallen down fromboth the eastern and western strongholds. In this way the island hasacquired broad shores, where grain and flowers and trees can grow.

  "Up here, on the hard butterfly-back, only sheep and cows and littlehorses go about. Only lapwings and plover live here, and there are nobuildings except windmills and a few stone huts, where we shepherdscrawl in. But down on the coast lie big villages and churches andparishes and fishing hamlets and a whole city."

  He looked questioningly at the other one. This one had finished hismeal, and was tying th
e food-sack together. "I wonder where you will endwith all this," said he.

  "It is only this that I want to know," said the shepherd, as he loweredhis voice so that he almost whispered the words, and looked into themist with his small eyes, which appeared to be worn out from spyingafter all that which does not exist. "Only this I want to know: if thepeasants who live on the built-up farms beneath the strongholds, or thefishermen who take the small herring from the sea, or the merchants inBorgholm, or the bathing guests who come here every summer, or thetourists who wander around in Borgholm's old castle ruin, or thesportsmen who come here in the fall to hunt partridges, or the painterswho sit here on Alvaret and paint the sheep and windmills--I should liketo know if any of them understand that this island has been a butterflywhich flew about with great shimmery wings."

  "Ah!" said the young shepherd, suddenly. "It should have occurred tosome of them, as they sat on the edge of the stronghold of an evening,and heard the nightingales trill in the groves below them, and lookedover Kalmar Sound, that this island could not have come into existencein the same way as the others."

  "I want to ask," said the old one, "if no one has had the desire to givewings to the windmills--so large that they could reach to heaven, solarge that they could lift the whole island out of the sea and let itfly like a butterfly among butterflies."

  "It may be possible that there is something in what you say," said theyoung one; "for on summer nights, when the heavens widen and open overthe island, I have sometimes thought that it was as if it wanted toraise itself from the sea, and fly away."

  But when the old one had finally gotten the young one to talk, he didn'tlisten to him very much. "I would like to know," the old one said in alow tone, "if anyone can explain why one feels such a longing up here onAlvaret. I have felt it every day of my life; and I think it preys uponeach and every one who must go about here. I want to know if no one elsehas understood that all this wistfulness is caused by the fact that thewhole island is a butterfly that longs for its wings."

  LITTLE KARL'S ISLAND

  THE STORM

  _Friday, April eighth_.

  The wild geese had spent the night on Oeland's northern point, and werenow on their way to the continent. A strong south wind blew over KalmarSound, and they had been thrown northward. Still they worked their waytoward land with good speed. But when they were nearing the firstislands a powerful rumbling was heard, as if a lot of strong-wingedbirds had come flying; and the water under them, all at once, becameperfectly black. Akka drew in her wings so suddenly that she almoststood still in the air. Thereupon, she lowered herself to light on theedge of the sea. But before the geese had reached the water, the weststorm caught up with them. Already, it drove before it fogs, salt scumand small birds; it also snatched with it the wild geese, threw them onend, and cast them toward the sea.

  It was a rough storm. The wild geese tried to turn back, time and again,but they couldn't do it and were driven out toward the East sea. Thestorm had already blown them past Oeland, and the sea lay beforethem--empty and desolate. There was nothing for them to do but to keepout of the water.

  When Akka observed that they were unable to turn back she thought thatit was needless to let the storm drive them over the entire East sea.Therefore she sank down to the water. Now the sea was raging, andincreased in violence with every second. The sea-green billows rolledforward, with seething foam on their crests. Each one surged higher thanthe other. It was as though they raced with each other, to see whichcould foam the wildest. But the wild geese were not afraid of theswells. On the contrary, this seemed to afford them much pleasure. Theydid not strain themselves with swimming, but lay and let themselves bewashed up with the wave-crests, and down in the water-dales, and hadjust as much fun as children in a swing. Their only anxiety was that theflock should be separated. The few land-birds who drove by, up in thestorm, cried with envy: "There is no danger for you who can swim."

  But the wild geese were certainly not out of all danger. In the firstplace, the rocking made them helplessly sleepy. They wished continuallyto turn their heads backward, poke their bills under their wings, and goto sleep. Nothing can be more dangerous than to fall asleep in this way;and Akka called out all the while: "Don't go to sleep, wild geese! Hethat falls asleep will get away from the flock. He that gets away fromthe flock is lost."

  Despite all attempts at resistance one after another fell asleep; andAkka herself came pretty near dozing off, when she suddenly sawsomething round and dark rise on the top of a wave. "Seals! Seals!Seals!" cried Akka in a high, shrill voice, and raised herself up in theair with resounding wing-strokes. It was just at the crucial moment.Before the last wild goose had time to come up from the water, the sealswere so close to her that they made a grab for her feet.

  Then the wild geese were once more up in the storm which drove thembefore it out to sea. No rest did it allow either itself or the wildgeese; and no land did they see--only desolate sea.

  They lit on the water again, as soon as they dared venture. But whenthey had rocked upon the waves for a while, they became sleepy again.And when they fell asleep, the seals came swimming. If old Akka had notbeen so wakeful, not one of them would have escaped.

  All day the storm raged; and it caused fearful havoc among the crowds oflittle birds, which at this time of year were migrating. Some weredriven from their course to foreign lands, where they died ofstarvation; others became so exhausted that they sank down in the seaand were drowned. Many were crushed against the cliff-walls, and manybecame a prey for the seals.

  The storm continued all day, and, at last, Akka began to wonder if sheand her flock would perish. They were now dead tired, and nowhere didthey see any place where they might rest. Toward evening she no longerdared to lie down on the sea, because now it filled up all of a suddenwith large ice-cakes, which struck against each other, and she fearedthey should be crushed between these. A couple of times the wild geesetried to stand on the ice-crust; but one time the wild storm swept theminto the water; another time, the merciless seals came creeping up onthe ice.

  At sundown the wild geese were once more up in the air. They flewon--fearful for the night. The darkness seemed to come upon them muchtoo quickly this night--which was so full of dangers.

  It was terrible that they, as yet, saw no land. How would it go withthem if they were forced to stay out on the sea all night? They wouldeither be crushed between the ice-cakes or devoured by seals orseparated by the storm.

  The heavens were cloud-bedecked, the moon hid itself, and the darknesscame quickly. At the same time all nature was filled with a horror whichcaused the most courageous hearts to quail. Distressed bird-travellers'cries had sounded over the sea all day long, without anyone having paidthe slightest attention to them; but now, when one no longer saw who itwas that uttered them, they seemed mournful and terrifying. Down on thesea, the ice-drifts crashed against each other with a loud rumblingnoise. The seals tuned up their wild hunting songs. It was as thoughheaven and earth were, about to clash.

  THE SHEEP

  The boy sat for a moment and looked down into the sea. Suddenly hethought that it began to roar louder than ever. He looked up. Right infront of him--only a couple of metres away--stood a rugged and baremountain-wall. At its base the waves dashed into a foaming spray. Thewild geese flew straight toward the cliff, and the boy did not see howthey could avoid being dashed to pieces against it. Hardly had hewondered that Akka hadn't seen the danger in time, when they were overby the mountain. Then he also noticed that in front of them was thehalf-round entrance to a grotto. Into this the geese steered; and thenext moment they were safe.

  The first thing the wild geese thought of--before they gave themselvestime to rejoice over their safety--was to see if all their comrades werealso harboured. Yes, there were Akka, Iksi, Kolmi, Nelja, Viisi, Knusi,all the six goslings, the goosey-gander, Dunfin and Thumbietot; butKaksi from Nuolja, the first left-hand goose, was missing--and no oneknew anything about her fate.

  Whe
n the wild geese discovered that no one but Kaksi had been separatedfrom the flock, they took the matter lightly. Kaksi was old and wise.She knew all their byways and their habits, and she, of course, wouldknow how to find her way back to them.

  Then the wild geese began to look around in the cave. Enough daylightcame in through the opening, so that they could see the grotto was bothdeep and wide. They were delighted to think they had found such a finenight harbour, when one of them caught sight of some shining, greendots, which glittered in a dark corner. "These are eyes!" cried Akka."There are big animals in here." They rushed toward the opening, butThumbietot called to them: "There is nothing to run away from! It's onlya few sheep who are lying alongside the grotto wall."

  When the wild geese had accustomed themselves to the dim daylight in thegrotto, they saw the sheep very distinctly. The grown-up ones might beabout as many as there were geese; but beside these there were a fewlittle lambs. An old ram with long, twisted horns appeared to be themost lordly one of the flock. The wild geese went up to him with muchbowing and scraping. "Well met in the wilderness!" they greeted, but thebig ram lay still, and did not speak a word of welcome.

  Then the wild geese thought that the sheep were displeased because theyhad taken shelter in their grotto. "It is perhaps not permissible thatwe have come in here?" said Akka. "But we cannot help it, for we arewind-driven. We have wandered about in the storm all day, and it wouldbe very good to be allowed to stop here to-night." After that a longtime passed before any of the sheep answered with words; but, on theother hand, it could be heard distinctly that a pair of them heaved deepsighs. Akka knew, to be sure, that sheep are always