Nils Holgerssons underbara resa. English
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beasts.
"As the creatures filed past, the dean saw the Wood-nymph lower her pinetorch over one and another of them.
"Every time this occurred the beasts of prey broke into loud, exultantroars--particularly when it was lowered over a cow or some other largecreature. The animal that saw the torch turning toward it uttered apiercing shriek, as if it had received a knife thrust in its flesh,while the entire herd to which it belonged bellowed their lamentations.
"Then the dean began to comprehend the meaning of what he saw. Surely hehad heard that the animals in Delsbo assembled on Black's Ridge everyNew Year's Eve, that the Wood-nymph might mark out which among the tamebeasts would that year be prey for the wild beasts. The dean pitied thepoor creatures that were at the mercy of savage beasts, when in realitythey should have no master but man.
"The leading herd had only just left when another bell tinkled, and thecattle from another farm tramped to the mountain top. These came in thesame order as the first and marched past the Wood-nymph, who stoodthere, stern and solemn, indicating animal after animal for death.
"Herd upon herd followed, without a break in the line of procession.Some were so small that they included only one cow and a few sheep;others consisted of only a pair of goats. It was apparent that thesewere from very humble homes, but they too were compelled to pass inreview.
"The dean thought of the Delsbo farmers, who had so much love for theirbeasts. 'Did they but know of it, surely they would not allow arepetition of this!' he thought. 'They would risk their own lives ratherthan let their cattle wander amongst bears and wolves, to be doomed bythe Wood-nymph!'
"The last herd to appear was the one from the rectory farm. The deanheard the sound of the familiar bell a long way off. The horse, too,must have heard it, for he began to shake in every limb, and was bathedin sweat.
"'So it is your turn now to pass before the Wood-nymph to receive yoursentence,' the dean said to the horse. 'Don't be afraid! Now I know whyyou brought me here, and I shall not leave you.'
"The fine cattle from the parsonage farm emerged from the forest andmarched to the Wood-nymph and the wild beasts. Last in the line was thehorse that had brought his master to Black's Ridge. The dean did notleave the saddle, but let the animal take him to the Wood-nymph.
"He had neither knife nor gun for his defence, but he had taken out thePrayer-book and sat pressing it to his heart as he exposed himself tobattle against evil.
"At first it appeared as if none had observed him. The dean's cattlefiled past the Wood-nymph in the same order as the others had done. Shedid not wave the torch toward any of these, but as soon as theintelligent horse stepped forward, she made a movement to mark him fordeath.
"Instantly the dean held up the Prayer-book, and the torchlight fellupon the cross on its cover. The Wood-nymph uttered a loud, shrill cryand let the torch drop from her hand.
"Immediately the flame was extinguished. In the sudden transition fromlight to darkness the dean saw nothing, nor did he hear anything. Abouthim reigned the profound stillness of a wilderness in winter.
"Then the dark clouds parted, and through the opening stepped the fullround moon to shed its light upon the ground. The dean saw that he andthe horse were alone on the summit of Black's Ridge. Not one of the manywild beasts was there. The ground had not been trampled by the herdsthat had passed over it; but the dean himself sat with his Prayer-bookbefore him, while the horse under him stood trembling and foaming.
"By the time the dean reached home he no longer knew whether or not ithad been a dream, a vision, or reality--this that he had seen; but hetook it as a warning to him to remember the poor creatures who were atthe mercy of wild beasts. He preached so powerfully to the Delsbopeasants that in his day all the wolves and bears were exterminated fromthat section of the country, although they may have returned since histime."
Here Bernhard ended his story. He received praise from all sides and itseemed to be a foregone conclusion that he would get the prize. Themajority thought it almost a pity that Clement had to compete with him.
But Clement, undaunted, began:
"One day, while I was living at Skansen, just outside of Stockholm, andlonging for home--" Then he told about the tiny midget he had ransomedso that he would not have to be confined in a cage, to be stared at byall the people. He told, also, that no sooner had he performed this actof mercy than he was rewarded for it. He talked and talked, and theastonishment of his hearers grew greater and greater; but when he cameto the royal lackey and the beautiful book, all the dairymaids droppedtheir needle-work and sat staring at Clement in open-eyed wonder at hismarvellous experiences.
As soon as Clement had finished, the eldest of the dairymaids announcedthat he should have the muffler.
"Bernhard related only things that happened to another, but Clement hashimself been the hero of a true story, which I consider far moreimportant."
In this all concurred. They regarded Clement with very different eyesafter hearing that he had talked with the King, and the little fiddlerwas afraid to show how proud he felt. But at the very height of hiselation some one asked him what had become of the midget.
"I had no time to set out the blue bowl for him myself," said Clement,"so I asked the old Laplander to do it. What has become of him sincethen I don't know."
No sooner had he spoken than a little pine cone came along and struckhim on the nose. It did not drop from a tree, and none of the peasantshad thrown it. It was simply impossible to tell whence it had come.
"Aha, Clement!" winked the dairymaid, "it appears as if the tiny folkwere listening to us. You should not have left it to another to set outthat blue bowl!"
IN MEDELPAD
_Friday, June seventeenth_.
The boy and the eagle were out bright and early the next morning. Gorgohoped that he would get far up into West Bothnia that day. As luck wouldhave it, he heard the boy remark to himself that in a country like theone through which they were now travelling it must be impossible forpeople to live.
The land which spread below them was Southern Medelpad. When the eagleheard the boy's remark, he replied:
"Up here they have forests for fields."
The boy thought of the contrast between the light, golden-rye fieldswith their delicate blades that spring up in one summer, and the darkspruce forest with its solid trees which took many years to ripen forharvest.
"One who has to get his livelihood from such a field must have a deal ofpatience!" he observed.
Nothing more was said until they came to a place where the forest hadbeen cleared, and the ground was covered with stumps and lopped-offbranches. As they flew over this ground, the eagle heard the boy mutterto himself that it was a mighty ugly and poverty-stricken place.
"This field was cleared last winter," said the eagle.
The boy thought of the harvesters at home, who rode on their reapingmachines on fine summer mornings, and in a short time mowed a largefield. But the forest field was harvested in winter. The lumbermen wentout in the wilderness when the snow was deep, and the cold most severe.It was tedious work to fell even one tree, and to hew down a forest suchas this they must have been out in the open many weeks.
"They have to be hardy men to mow a field of this kind," he said.
When the eagle had taken two more wing strokes, they sighted a log cabinat the edge of the clearing. It had no windows and only two loose boardsfor a door. The roof had been covered with bark and twigs, but now itwas gaping, and the boy could see that inside the cabin there were onlya few big stones to serve as a fireplace, and two board benches. Whenthey were above the cabin the eagle suspected that the boy was wonderingwho could have lived in such a wretched hut as that.
"The reapers who mowed the forest field lived there," the eagle said.
The boy remembered how the reapers in his home had returned from theirday's work, cheerful and happy, and how the best his mother had in thelarder was always spread for them; while here, after the arduous work ofthe day, they must rest on har
d benches in a cabin that was worse thanan outhouse. And what they had to eat he could not imagine.
"I wonder if there are any harvest festivals for these labourers?" hequestioned.
A little farther on they saw below them a wretchedly bad road windingthrough the forest. It was narrow and zigzag, hilly and stony, and cutup by brooks in many places. As they flew over it the eagle knew thatthe boy was wondering what was carted over a road like that.
"Over this road the harvest was conveyed to the stack," the eagle said.
The boy recalled what fun they had at home when the harvest wagonsdrawn by two sturdy horses, carried the grain from the field. The manwho drove sat proudly on top of the load; the horses danced and prickedup their ears, while the village children, who were allowed to climbupon the sheaves, sat there laughing and shrieking, half-pleased,half-frightened. But