The wild geese had spent the night on the north cape of Öland and were now en route to the mainland. A strong southerly wind was blowing over Kalmar Sound, tossing them northwards. They still worked their way at good speed towards land. But as they were approaching the first skerry they heard a mighty rumbling, as if a large number of birds with strong wings had come flying, and the water below suddenly turned completely black. Akka pulled in her wings so quickly that she almost remained stationary in the air. After that she descended to land on the surface of the sea. But before the geese had reached the water, the western storm caught up with them. It was already chasing clouds of dust, salt foam and small birds ahead of it, and now it also tore the wild geese with it, threw them backwards and heaved them out towards the sea.
It was a dreadful storm. Again and again the wild geese tried to turn, but they were unable to, instead being driven out towards the Baltic. The storm had already cast them past Öland, and the sea lay empty and desolate before them. They could do nothing other than run before the wind.
When Akka noticed that they were unable to turn, she thought it was unnecessary to let the storm drive them over the entire Baltic. For that reason she descended on to the water. The seaway was already rough and growing more so every moment. The waves rolled ahead, sea-green with sputtering foam on the crests. One wave heaved up higher than the next. It was as if they were competing over which could raise itself highest and foam the wildest. But the wild geese were not afraid of the surging sea. On the contrary, it seemed to give them great enjoyment. They did not exert themselves by swimming, but instead let themselves be washed up on the crests and down in the troughs of the waves and had as much fun as children on a swing. Their only worry was that the flock would be scattered. The poor land birds, who drove past up in the storm, shouted enviously, ‘You’ve got nothing to complain about, since you can swim!’
But the wild geese were certainly not out of all danger. For one thing the rocking made them hopelessly sleepy. They kept wanting to turn their heads backwards, stick their beaks in under their wings and sleep. Nothing can be more dangerous than falling asleep like that, and Akka called constantly, ‘Don’t fall asleep, wild geese! Anyone who falls asleep will be separated from the flock! Anyone who is separated from the flock is lost!’
Despite all attempts to resist, one after the other fell asleep, and Akka herself was very close to slumbering when suddenly she saw something round and dark rise over the top of a wave. ‘Seals! Seals! Seals!’ Akka called in a loud, shrill voice, raising herself in the air with flapping wing strokes. It was at the very last moment. Before the last wild goose had managed to get up out of the water, the seals were so close that they were snapping at their feet.
So the wild geese were again up in the storm, which drove them ahead of it out to sea. No rest was granted either to it or to them. And they saw no land, only desolate sea.
They settled down on the water again as soon as they dared. But when they had rocked on the water awhile, they got sleepy again. And when they fell asleep, the seals came swimming. If old Akka had not been so watchful, not one of them would have escaped.
The storm continued all day and it caused dreadful havoc among the masses of birds migrating at this time of year. Some were driven off course, away to distant lands where they died of starvation, others were so exhausted they sank down in the sea and drowned. Many were crushed against the cliff walls and many became prey for the seals.
The storm lasted all day, until Akka started to wonder if she and the flock would be lost. They were now dead tired and she could see nowhere they might rest. Towards evening she no longer dared settle down on the sea, because now it was suddenly filled with large ice floes which collided with each other, and she feared that they would be crushed between them. A couple of times the wild geese tried to set down on the ice floe. But one time the storm swept them into the water. Another time the merciless seals came crawling up on the ice.
At sundown the geese were once again high in the air. They flew forwards, anxious about the night. The darkness seemed to come over them much too quickly this evening, which was so full of dangers.
It was dreadful that they still did not see land. What would happen to them if they were forced to stay out on the sea the whole night? They would either be crushed between the ice floes or bitten to death by the seals or scattered by the storm.
The sky was cloud-covered, the moon stayed hidden and darkness came quickly. At the same time all of nature was filled by a ghastliness that struck the bravest hearts with terror. The cries of migratory birds in distress had sounded over the sea the whole day without anyone paying them any heed, but now, when you no longer saw who was making them, they seemed dismal and frightening. Down on the sea the floes of drift ice bumped against each other with a strong rumbling. The seals struck up their wild hunting songs. It was as if sky and earth were about to collide.
The boy had been looking down at the sea for a while. Suddenly he thought that it started to roar more than before. He looked up. Right in front of him, only a few metres away, a rough, bare rock wall rose up. Down at its foot the waves were struck into high-spraying foam. The wild geese were flying straight towards the cliff, and the boy’s only thought was that they would be crushed against it.
He barely had time to wonder that Akka had not seen this danger in time before they were at the rock. Then he also noticed that ahead of them the semicircular entrance to a grotto opened. The geese steered into it and the next moment they were in safety.
The first thing the travellers thought about, before they took a moment to rejoice over their rescue, was to see whether all their comrades were also saved. Then there were Akka, Yksi, Kolme, Neljä, Viisi, Kuusi, all six goslings, the gander, Downy and Thumbkin, but Kaksi from Nuolja, the first goose on the left, was missing, and no one knew anything about her fate.
When the wild geese noticed that no one except Kaksi had been separated from the flock, they took the matter lightly. Kaksi was old and wise. She knew all their paths and habits, and she would probably know how to find her way back to them.
Then the wild geese started looking around inside the cavern. Enough daylight still came in through the opening that they could see that the grotto was both deep and wide. They were happy to have found themselves such a splendid lodging, when one of them caught sight of some glistening green dots that shone out of a dark corner. ‘Those are eyes!’ Akka called. ‘There are large animals in here.’ They rushed towards the exit, but Thumbkin, who saw better in the dark than the wild geese, called to them, ‘It’s nothing to flee from! It’s only some sheep lying along the grotto wall.’
When the wild geese had got used to the dim light in the grotto, they saw the sheep very well. There might be roughly as many adults as themselves, but in addition there were some small lambs. A big ram with long, twisted horns seemed to be the leader of the flock. The wild geese went towards him with much curtsying. ‘Wilderness salutations!’ they greeted, but the big ram lay quietly and did not say a word of welcome.
Then the wild geese thought the sheep were unhappy that they had made their way into their grotto. ‘Perhaps it is not pleasing to you that we’ve come into the house here?’ said Akka. ‘But we can’t help it, because we are wind-driven. We have travelled around in the storm the whole day and it would be very good to be able to stay here tonight.’ After this it took a long while before any of the sheep answered with words, but on the other hand it was clearly heard that a couple of them let out long sighs. Akka knew that sheep are always shy and peculiar, but these did not seem to have any concept at all of how to behave. Finally an old ewe, who had a long-set, mournful face and a whining voice, said, ‘None of us will refuse to let you stay, but this is a house of mourning and we cannot receive guests like in the past.’
‘You don’t need to be worried about any such thing,’ Akka said. ‘If you knew what we’ve been subjected to today, you would probably realize that we will be satisfied just to get a safe spot to sleep on.’
When Akka said this, the old ewe got up. ‘I believe that it would be better for you to fly around in the strongest storm than to stay here. But you will not leave here anyway before we’ve been able to offer you such good cheer as the house can provide.’
She showed them to a hole in the ground, which was full of water. Beside it was a pile of husks and chaff, and she asked them to be content with that. ‘We’ve had a lot of snow this year on the island,’ she said. ‘The farmers who own us came out with hay and oat straw, so that we wouldn’t starve to death. And this rubbish is all that is left of the fodder.’
The geese pounced on the food at once. They thought that they had been fortunate and were in a good mood. They noticed, however, that the sheep were anxious, but they knew how easily frightened sheep usually are and did not think that there was any real danger imminent. As soon as they had eaten, they intended to settle down to sleep as usual. But then the big ram got up and came over to them. The geese thought that they had never seen a sheep with such long, rough horns. He was striking in other ways too. He had a large, bulging forehead, wise eyes and good posture, as if he were a proud, courageous animal.
‘I cannot be held accountable for letting you fall asleep without telling you that it is unsafe here,’ he said. ‘We cannot receive overnight guests nowadays.’ Finally Akka started to understand that this was serious.
‘We’ll go our way, because you absolutely wish it,’ she said. ‘But won’t you first tell us what is tormenting you? We don’t know a thing. We don’t even know where we are.’
‘This is the island of Lilla Karlsön,’ said the ram. ‘It is located outside Gotland, and nothing but sheep and seabirds live here.’
‘Perhaps you are wild sheep?’ said Akka.
‘Not far from it,’ the ram answered. ‘We basically have nothing to do with humans. There is an old agreement between us and the farmers in a place on Gotland that they will supply us with fodder in case there is snow in the winter, and in return they get to take away those of us who are excess. The island is small, so it can’t feed all that many of us. But otherwise we take care of ourselves year-round, and we don’t live in houses with doors and locks, instead we stay in grottos like this.’
‘Do you stay out here in the winter too?’ Akka asked, surprised.
‘Yes, we do,’ the ram answered. ‘We have good grazing up here on the hill year-round.’
‘I think it sounds as if you have it better than other sheep,’ said Akka. ‘But what kind of misfortune has befallen you?’
‘There was severe cold last winter. The sea froze and then three foxes came over here on the ice and they’ve stayed here ever since. Otherwise there is not a dangerous animal here on the island.’
‘I see, the foxes dare to attack the likes of you?’
‘Oh no, not during the day, when I can probably defend myself and my flock,’ the ram said, shaking his horns. ‘But they sneak up on us at night, when we are sleeping in the grottos. We try to stay awake, but sometimes you have to sleep and then they attack us. They’ve already killed every single sheep in the other grottos and those were flocks that were just as big as mine.’
‘It’s not pleasant to say that we are so helpless,’ the old ewe now said. ‘We can’t take care of ourselves any better than if we were domestic sheep.’
‘Do you think they will come here tonight?’ said Akka.
‘There’s nothing to do but wait,’ the old ewe answered. ‘They were here last night and stole a lamb from us. They will probably come again, as long as any of us are still alive. That’s what they’ve done at other places.’
‘But if they are allowed to carry on like this, then you’ll be completely wiped out,’ said Akka.
‘Yes, it probably won’t be long before it’s the end of all the sheep on Lilla Karlsön,’ said the ewe.
Akka stood there, quite uncertain. It wasn’t pleasant to head out into the storm again, and it wasn’t good to stay in a house where such guests were expected. When she had thought for a while, she turned to Thumbkin. ‘I wonder if you will help us, as you have done many times before?’ she said.
Yes, the boy answered, of course he would.
‘It’s too bad for you not to get to sleep,’ the wild goose said, ‘but I wonder if you are able to keep watch until the foxes come, and then wake us so that we can fly away?’
The boy was not overly happy about this, but anything was better than going out into the storm again, so he promised that he would stay awake.
He went up to the grotto opening, crept down behind a stone so that he would have shelter from the storm, and sat down to keep watch.
When the boy had been sitting there a while, the storm seemed to abate. The sky became clear and the moonlight started playing on the waves. The boy went to the grotto opening to look out. The grotto was situated quite high up on the hill. A narrow, steep trail led up to it. It was probably there that he could expect the foxes.
He saw no foxes yet, but on the other hand something which at first he was much more afraid of. On the strip of shore below the hill stood some big giants or other stone trolls, or perhaps it was even humans. At first he thought he was dreaming, but now he was quite certain that he had not fallen asleep. He saw the big fellows so clearly that it could not be an optical illusion. Some stood out on the water’s edge and others right next to the rock, as if they intended to climb up it. Some had big, thick heads and others had none at all. Some were one-armed and some had humps both front and back. He had never seen anything so strange.
The boy was scaring himself about these trolls, so that he almost forgot to watch out for the foxes. But now he heard a claw scraping against a stone. He saw three foxes come up the precipice, and as soon as he knew that he had something real to deal with, he became calm again and not a bit scared. It struck him that it was a shame to simply wake the geese and leave the sheep to their fate. He thought he would like to arrange things differently.
He quickly ran into the grotto, shaking the big ram by the horn so that he woke up, and at the same time swung himself up on his back. ‘Get up, Father, let’s try to scare the foxes a little!’
He tried to be as quiet as possible, but the foxes must have heard all the commotion. When they came to the opening of the grotto they stopped and considered. ‘There was definitely something moving in there,’ said one. ‘I wonder if they’re awake.’
‘Oh, just get on with it!’ said another. ‘They can’t do anything to us anyway.’
When they came farther into the grotto, they stopped and sniffed. ‘Who shall we take tonight?’ whispered the fox who went first.
‘Tonight we’ll take the big ram,’ said the last one. ‘Then we’ll have an easy time with the others.’
The boy sat on the old ram’s back and saw how they were sneaking up. ‘Now lunge straight ahead,’ the boy whispered. The ram lunged and the first fox was thrown headlong back towards the opening.
‘Lunge now to the left!’ the boy said, turning the ram’s big head in the right direction. The ram aimed a terrible blow, which struck the second fox on the side. He rolled around several times, before he got on his feet again and could flee. The boy would have liked to have shoved the third one too, but he had already taken off.
‘Now I think they’ve had enough for tonight,’ the boy said.
‘I think so too,’ said the big ram. ‘Now lie on my back and crawl down into the wool! You deserve to be nice and warm after all the wind you’ve been out in.’
The next day the big ram went around with the boy on his back and showed him the island. It consisted of a single massive cliff. It was like a big house with vertical walls and a flat roof. The ram first went up on the rocky roof and showed the boy the good grazing grounds there, and the boy had to admit that the island seemed to be specially created for sheep. Not much grew on the rock other than sheep fescue and the kind of small, dry, spicy-smelling plants that sheep like.
But to be sure, there was more besides sheep grazing to see once someone had come up the precipice. For one thing the whole sea was visible, now lying blue and sunlit and rolling along in shining swells. Only at an occasional promontory did it spray up in foam. Due east was Gotland with its even, long coast and in the south-west Stora Karlsön, which was constructed the same way as the smaller island. When the ram went all the way to the edge of the roof, so that the boy could look down the rock walls, he noticed that they were full of birds’ nests, and in the blue sea below him were velvet scoters and eider ducks and kittiwakes and guillemots and razorbills so beautiful and peaceful, busy fishing for herring.
‘This is really a promised land,’ said the boy. ‘You live in such a beautiful place, you sheep.’
‘Yes, it’s definitely beautiful here,’ said the big ram. It was as if he wanted to add something, but he did not say anything, only sighed. ‘But if you walk here alone, you have to watch out for all the cracks that run across the rock,’ he continued after a while. And this was a good warning, because there were deep and wide cracks in several places. The biggest of them was called the Hell Hole. That crack was several fathoms deep and almost a fathom wide. ‘If someone were to fall down here, it would be all over for him,’ the big ram said. The boy thought it sounded as if he had a particular meaning in what he said.
Then he brought the boy down to the water’s edge. He could see those giants close up that had frightened him the night before. It was nothing other than big cliff pillars. The big ram called them ‘raukar’. The boy could not stop looking at them. If trolls had ever been turned into stone, he thought, they would look just like that.
Although it was beautiful down at the water’s edge, the boy still liked it better up on the summit. It was awful down here, because they encountered dead sheep everywhere. Here was where the foxes had their dinner. He saw skeletons completely picked clean, but also bodies that were only half-eaten, and others they had hardly tasted, but instead left untouched. It was quite heart-rending to see that the wild animals had thrown themselves over the sheep only for sport, only to get to hunt and kill.
The big ram did not stop in front of the dead, but instead went calmly past them. But the boy could not avoid seeing all the unpleasantness in any event.
Now the big ram went back up to the summit, but when he got there, he stopped and said, ‘If anyone who was capable and wise had to see all the misery that prevails here, he would probably not rest until those foxes got their punishment.’
‘Foxes have to live too,’ the boy said.
‘Yes,’ said the big ram. ‘Those who don’t kill more animals than they need for their sustenance, they may well live. But these are miscreants.’
‘The farmers who own the island ought to be able to come here and help you,’ the boy said.
‘They’ve rowed over here several times,’ the ram answered, ‘but the foxes hid in grottos and cracks, so they didn’t get a chance to shoot them.’
‘You can’t very well mean that a little wretch like me should be able to get the better of those that you and the farmers haven’t been able to overcome.’
‘Someone who is small and quick-witted can put many things right,’ said the big ram.
They spoke no more about this, but the boy went and sat down with the wild geese, who were grazing up on the highland. Although he had not wanted to show it to the ram, he was very distressed for the sheep’s sake and he really wanted to help them. ‘I’ll at least talk with Akka and Martin Gander about it,’ he thought. ‘Perhaps they can assist me with some good advice.’
Later the white gander took the boy on his back and went over the plateau beyond the Hell Hole.
He wandered carefree on the open summit and did not seem to think about how white and big he was. He did not seek shelter behind grassy hillocks or other elevations, instead he walked straight ahead. It was strange that he was not more careful, because he seemed to have been badly knocked about during yesterday’s storm. He limped on his right leg and his left wing hung and dragged, as if it were broken.
He behaved as if there was no danger, nibbling a blade of grass here and another there and not looking around in any direction. The boy was stretched out on the gander’s back, looking up towards the blue sky. He was now so used to riding that he could both stand and lie on the goose’s back.
When the gander and the boy were so carefree, they did not notice, of course, that the three foxes had come up on the plateau. And the foxes, who knew that it is almost impossible to get close to a goose on open ground, did not think about chasing the gander at all to start with. But as they had nothing else to do, they finally went down into one of the long cracks anyway and tried to sneak up on him. They set about it so carefully that the gander could not catch a glimpse of them.
They were not far away when the gander made an attempt to raise himself in the air. He flapped his wings, but he was unable to take off. When the foxes thought this meant that he could not fly, they hurried ahead with greater eagerness than before. They no longer kept themselves hidden in the crevice, but instead went out on the plateau. They concealed themselves as best they could behind tussocks and rocks and got ever closer to the gander, without him seeming to notice that he was being hunted. At last the foxes were so close that they could take a run for the final leap. All three threw themselves at one time at the gander in a long leap.
At the last moment the gander must have noticed something anyway, because he ran away, so that the foxes missed him. This did not mean that much in any case, because the gander’s head start was only a couple of fathoms, and he was limping besides. The poor thing ran off anyway, as quickly as he was able.
The boy was sitting backwards on the gander’s back and called and shouted at the foxes, ‘You’ve got too fat on mutton, foxes! You can’t even catch up with a goose!’ He made fun of them, so that they were crazed with fury and only thought about rushing ahead.
The white one ran towards the big crevice. When he came up to it, he made a flap with his wings so that he went over. Just then the foxes were right behind him.
The gander hurried ahead at the same speed as before, even after he had crossed over the Hell Hole. But he had only run a couple of metres before the boy tapped him on the neck and said, ‘Now you can stop, gander.’
At the same moment they heard behind them some wild howls and scraping with claws and heavy falls. But they saw no more of the foxes.
The next morning the lighthouse keeper at Stora Karlsön found a piece of bark stuck under the front door, and on it was carved in crooked, block letters: ‘The foxes on the small island fell down into the Hell Hole. Take care of them!’
And the lighthouse keeper did that too.