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

the spot, and for a long time the snakes lay there hissing abusive epithets at each other.

When Crawlie was so angry that he couldn’t hiss, but could only dart his tongue out, the water-snake changed the subject, and began to talk in a very different tone.

“I had still another errand, Crawlie,” he said, lowering his voice to a mild whisper. “But now I suppose you are so angry that you wouldn’t care to help me?”

“If you don’t ask anything foolish of me, I shall certainly be at your service.”

“In the pine trees down by the swamp live a moth folk that fly around all night.”

“I know all about them,” remarked Crawlie. “What’s up with them now?”

“They are the smallest insect family in the forest,” said Helpless, “and the most harmless, since the caterpillars content themselves with gnawing only pine needles.”

“Yes, I know,” said Crawlie.

“I’m afraid those moths will soon be exterminated,” sighed the water-snake. “There are so many who pick off the caterpillars in the spring.”

Now Crawlie began to understand that the water-snake wanted the caterpillars for his own purpose, and he answered pleasantly:

“Do you wish me to say to the owls that they are to leave those pine tree worms in peace?”

“Yes, it would be well if you who have some authority in the forest should do this,” said Helpless.

“I might also drop a good word for the pine needle pickers among the thrushes?” volunteered the adder. “I will gladly serve you when you do not demand anything unreasonable.”

“Now you have given me a good promise, Crawlie,” said Helpless, “and I’m glad that I came to you.”

The Nun Moths

One morning⁠—several years later⁠—Karr lay asleep on the porch. It was in the early summer, the season of light nights, and it was as bright as day, although the sun was not yet up. Karr was awakened by someone calling his name.

“Is it you, Grayskin?” he asked, for he was accustomed to the elk’s nightly visits. Again he heard the call; then he recognized Grayskin’s voice, and hastened in the direction of the sound.

Karr heard the elk’s footfalls in the distance, as he dashed into the thickest pine wood, and straight through the brush, following no trodden path. Karr could not catch up with him, and he had great difficulty in even following the trail. “Karr, Karr!” came the cry, and the voice was certainly Grayskin’s, although it had a ring now which the dog had never heard before.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” the dog responded. “Where are you?”

“Karr, Karr! Don’t you see how it falls and falls?” said Grayskin.

Then Karr noticed that the pine needles kept dropping and dropping from the trees, like a steady fall of rain.

“Yes, I see how it falls,” he cried, and ran far into the forest in search of the elk.

Grayskin kept running through the thickets, while Karr was about to lose the trail again.

“Karr, Karr!” roared Grayskin; “can’t you scent that peculiar odour in the forest?”

Karr stopped and sniffed.

He had not thought of it before, but now he remarked that the pines sent forth a much stronger odour than usual.

“Yes, I catch the scent,” he said. He did not stop long enough to find out the cause of it, but hurried on after Grayskin.

The elk ran ahead with such speed that the dog could not catch up with him.

“Karr, Karr!” he called; “can’t you hear the crunching on the pines?” Now his tone was so plaintive it would have melted a stone.

Karr paused to listen. He heard a faint but distinct “tap, tap,” on the trees. It sounded like the ticking of a watch.

“Yes, I hear how it ticks,” cried Karr, and ran no farther. He understood that the elk did not want him to follow, but to take notice of something that was happening in the forest.

Karr was standing beneath the drooping branches of a great pine. He looked carefully at it; the needles moved. He went closer and saw a mass of grayish-white caterpillars creeping along the branches, gnawing off the needles. Every branch was covered with them. The crunch, crunch in the trees came from the working of their busy little jaws. Gnawed-off needles fell to the ground in a continuous shower, and from the poor pines there came such a strong odour that the dog suffered from it.

“What can be the meaning of this?” wondered Karr. “It’s too bad about the pretty trees! Soon they’ll have no beauty left.”

He walked from tree to tree, trying with his poor eyesight to see if all was well with them.

“There’s a pine they haven’t touched,” he thought. But they had taken possession of it, too. “And here’s a birch⁠—no, this also! The gamekeeper will not be pleased with this,” observed Karr.

He ran deeper into the thickets, to learn how far the destruction had spread. Wherever he went, he heard the same ticking; scented the same odour; saw the same needle rain. There was no need of his pausing to investigate. He understood it all by these signs. The little caterpillars were everywhere. The whole forest was being ravaged by them!

All of a sudden he came to a tract where there was no odour, and where all was still.

“Here’s the end of their domain,” thought the dog, as he paused and glanced about.

But here it was even worse; for the caterpillars had already done their work, and the trees were needleless. They were like the dead. The only thing that covered them was a network of ragged threads, which the caterpillars had spun to use as roads and bridges.

In there, among the dying trees, Grayskin stood waiting for Karr.

He was not alone. With him were four old elk⁠—the most respected in the forest. Karr knew them: They were Crooked-Back, who was a small elk, but had a larger hump than the others; Antler-Crown, who was the most dignified of the elk; Rough-Mane, with the thick coat; and an old long-legged one, who, up till the autumn before, when he got a bullet