The Wonderful Adventures of Nils by Selma Lagerlöf (i can read book club TXT) 📕

“Dear Morten Goosey-Gander,” said the boy, “try to get a swallow of water! It isn’t two steps to the lake.”

But the goosey-gander didn’t stir.

The boy had certainly been cruel to all animals, and to the goosey-gander in times gone by; but now he felt that the goosey-gander was the only comfort he had left, and he was dreadfully afraid of losing him.

At once the boy began to push and drag him, to get him into the water, but the goosey-gander was big and heavy, and it was mighty hard work for the boy; but at last he succeeded.

The goosey-gander got in head first. For an instant he lay motionless in the slime, but soon he poked up his head, shook the water from his eyes and sniffed. Then he swam, proudly, between reeds and seaweed.

The wild geese were in the lake before him. They had not looked around for either the goosey-gander or for his rider, but had made straight for the water. They had bathed and primped, and now they lay and gulped half-rotten pondweed and water-clover.

The white goosey-gander had the good fortune to spy a perch. He grabbed it quickly, swam ashore with it, and laid it down in front of the boy. “Here’s a thank you for helping me into the water,” said he.

It was the first time the boy had heard a friendly word that day. He was so happy that he wanted to throw his arms around the goosey-gander’s neck, but he refrained; and he was also thankful for the gift. At first he must have thought that it would be impossible to eat raw fish, and then he had a notion to try it.

He felt to see if he still had his sheath-knife with him; and, sure enough, there it hung⁠—on the back button of his trousers, although it was so diminished that it was hardly as long as a match. Well, at any rate, it served to scale and cleanse fish with; and it wasn’t long before the perch was eaten.

When the boy had satisfied his hunger, he felt a little ashamed because he had been able to eat a raw thing. “It’s evident that I’m not a human being any longer, but a real elf,” thought he.

While the boy ate, the goosey-gander stood silently beside him. But when he had swallowed the last bite, he said in a low voice: “It’s a fact that we have run across a stuck-up goose folk who despise all tame birds.”

“Yes, I’ve observed that,” said the boy.

“What a triumph it would be for me if I could follow them clear up to Lapland, and show them that even a tame goose can do things!”

“Y-e-e-s,” said the boy, and drawled it out because he didn’t believe the goosey-gander could ever do it; yet he didn’t wish to contradict him. “But I don’t think I can get along all alone on such a journey,” said the goosey-gander. “I’d like to ask if you couldn’t come along and help me?” The boy, of course, hadn’t expected anything but to return to his home as soon as possible, and he was so surprised that he hardly knew what he should reply. “I thought that we were enemies, you and I,” said he. But this the goosey-gander seemed to have forgotten entirely. He only remembered that the boy had but just saved his life.

“I suppose I really ought to go home to father and mother,” said the boy. “Oh! I’ll get you back to them some time in the fall,” said the goosey-gander. “I shall not leave you until I put you down on your own doorstep.”

The boy thought it might be just as well for him if he escaped showing himself before his parents for a while. He was not disinclined to favour the scheme, and was just on the point of saying that he agreed to it⁠—when they heard a loud rumbling behind them. It was the wild geese who had come up from the lake⁠—all at one time⁠—and stood shaking the water from their backs. After that they arranged themselves in a long row⁠—with the leader-goose in the centre⁠—and came toward them.

As the white goosey-gander sized up the wild geese, he felt ill at ease. He had expected that they should be more like tame geese, and that he should feel a closer kinship with them. They were much smaller than he, and none of them were white. They were all gray with a sprinkling of brown. He was almost afraid of their eyes. They were yellow, and shone as if a fire had been kindled back of them. The goosey-gander had always been taught that it was most fitting to move slowly and with a rolling motion, but these creatures did not walk⁠—they half ran. He grew most alarmed, however, when he looked at their feet. These were large, and the soles were torn and ragged-looking. It was evident that the wild geese never questioned what they tramped upon. They took no bypaths. They were very neat and well cared for in other respects, but one could see by their feet that they were poor wilderness-folk.

The goosey-gander only had time to whisper to the boy: “Speak up quickly for yourself, but don’t tell them who you are!”⁠—before the geese were upon them.

When the wild geese had stopped in front of them, they curtsied with their necks many times, and the goosey-gander did likewise many more times. As soon as the ceremonies were over, the leader-goose said: “Now I presume we shall hear what kind of creatures you are.”

“There isn’t much to tell about me,” said the goosey-gander. “I was born in Skanor last spring. In the fall I was sold to Holger Nilsson of West Vemminghög, and there I have lived ever since.”

“You don’t seem to have any pedigree to boast of,” said the leader-goose. “What is it, then, that makes you so high-minded that you wish to associate with