The Wonderful Adventures of Nils 1732 Studios

Swedish · The Wonderful Adventures of Nils

Kråkorna

The Crows

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  1. 1

    THE CLAY JAR.

    LERKRUKANTHE CLAY JARLERKRUKAN · noun, nominative, common gender, singularhead of the phrase
  2. 2

    In the southwestern corner of Småland lies a district called Sunnerbo.

  3. It is a rather flat and level land, and anyone who sees it in winter, when it is covered with snow, cannot help imagining that beneath the snow lie spread out plowed fallow fields, green rye fields, and mown clover meadows, as is usual in flat farmland.

  4. But when the snow finally thaws away in Sunnerbo at the beginning of April, it turns out that what lies hidden beneath it is nothing but dry sand heaths, bare rock outcrops, and great, marshy bogs.

  5. There are fields here and there, to be sure, but they are so insignificant that one hardly notices them, and there are small gray or red farm cottages too, but they tend to be tucked away in some birch grove, almost as if they were afraid to show themselves.

  6. 3

    Where Sunnerbo district borders on Halland, there is a sand heath so vast that anyone standing at one edge cannot see across to the opposite side.

  7. Over the whole heath nothing grows but heather, and it would not be easy, either, to get other plants to thrive there.

  8. First of all one would have to root out the heather, for the truth about it is that although it has only a small stunted stem, small stunted branches, and dry, stunted leaves, it imagines that it is a tree.

  9. So it behaves just like the real trees, spreading out in forest-fashion over wide stretches, holding faithfully together, and causing every foreign plant that tries to force its way into its territory to die out.

  10. 4

    The only spot on the heath where the heather does not reign supreme is a low, stony ridge that runs right across it.

  11. There one finds both juniper bushes, rowans, and a few large, beautiful birches.

  12. At the time when Nils Holgersson traveled about with the wild geese, there was also a cottage there with a little patch of cleared ground around it, but the people who had once lived there had, for one reason or another, moved away from it.

  13. The little cottage stood empty, and the field lay untilled.

  14. 5

    When the people had moved away from the cottage, they had closed the damper, fastened the window hooks, and locked the door.

  15. But they had not thought of the fact that one pane in the window was broken and merely stuffed up with a rag.

  16. After a couple of summers' rain showers that rag had rotted and sunk together, and at last a crow succeeded in picking it away.

  17. 6

    For the ridge on the heather heath was not so desolate as one might think, but was inhabited by a great crow-folk.

  18. Naturally, the crows did not live there the whole year round.

  19. They moved abroad in the winter; in the autumns they went from one field to another all over Götaland gathering grain; in the summers they spread out to the farms in Sunnerbo district and lived on eggs, berries, and fledglings; but every spring, when they were to build their nests and lay eggs, they came back to the heather heath.

  20. 7

    The one who picked the rag out of the window was a male crow named Garm Whitefeather, but he was never called anything but Fumle or Drumle or simply Fumle-Drumle, because he always behaved foolishly and clumsily and was good for nothing but being made fun of.

  21. Fumle-Drumle was bigger and stronger than any other of the crows, but that did not help him in the least; he was and remained a laughingstock.

  22. Nor did it profit him that he came of a very good lineage.

  23. If everything had gone as it should, he ought even to have been leader of the whole flock, because that dignity had, since time immemorial, belonged to the eldest of the Whitefeathers.

  24. But long before Fumle-Drumle was born, power had passed away from his family and was now held by a cruel and savage crow named Wind-Ile.

  25. 8

    That change of power came about because the crows on Kråkåsen had taken a fancy to change their way of life.

  26. It may well be that many think that everything called a crow lives in the same way, but that is quite wrong.

  27. There are whole crow-folks who lead an honest life, that is to say, who eat only seeds, worms, grubs, and animals already dead, and there are others who lead a real robber's life, who fall upon young hares and small birds and plunder every bird's nest they catch sight of.

  28. 9

    The old Whitefeathers had been strict and moderate, and as long as they had led the flock, they had forced the crows to behave so that other birds had nothing bad to say about them.

  29. But the crows were numerous, and poverty was great among them.

  30. They could not in the long run endure leading so strict a life, but rebelled against the Whitefeathers and gave power to Wind-Ile, who was the worst nest-plunderer and robber imaginable, unless his wife, Wind-Kåra, was even worse.

  31. Under their rule the crows had begun to lead such a life that they were now more feared than goshawks and eagle owls.

  32. 10

    Fumle-Drumle, of course, had no say at all in the flock.

  33. Everyone agreed that he did not in the least take after his ancestors, and that he could not be fit to be a leader.

  34. No one would have spoken of him at all, had he not constantly done fresh foolish things.

  35. Some who were really wise said now and then that it was perhaps lucky for Fumle-Drumle that he was such a helpless wretch, otherwise Wind-Ile and Kåra would surely not have let him, who was of the old chieftain lineage, stay on with the flock.

  36. 11

    As it was, they were, on the contrary, quite friendly to him and gladly took him along on their hunts.

  37. There everyone could notice how much more skillful and bold they were than he.

  38. 12

    None of the crows knew that it was Fumle-Drumle who had picked the rag out of the window, and had they known it, they would have been unbelievably astonished.

  39. Such boldness as approaching a human dwelling they had not credited him with.

  40. He himself kept the matter carefully secret and had his good reasons for doing so.

  41. Ile and Kåra always treated him well by day, and while the others were present, but on one very dark night, when his comrades were already sitting on the night-perch, he had been set upon by a couple of crows and nearly killed.

  42. After that he moved, every evening once it had grown dark, from his usual sleeping place into the empty cottage.

  43. 13

    It happened now one afternoon, when the crows already had their nests in order on Kråkåsen, that they made a remarkable find.

  44. Wind-Ile, Fumle-Drumle, and a couple of others had flown down into a large pit that lay in one corner of the heath.

  45. The pit was nothing but a gravel pit, but the crows could not content themselves with so simple an explanation, and kept flying down into it and turning over every grain of sand to find out why the people had dug it.

  46. Just as the crows were walking about there, a mass of gravel came crashing down from one side.

  47. They hurried over and had the good luck to find, among the fallen stones and tufts, a rather large clay jar closed with a wooden lid.

  48. They naturally wanted to know if there was anything in it, and they tried both to peck a hole in the jar and to pry up the lid, but neither succeeded.

  49. 14

    They stood quite at a loss, gazing at the jar, when they heard someone say: “Shall I come down and help you, crows?”

  50. They looked up quickly.

  51. On the edge of the pit sat a fox, looking down at them.

  52. He was one of the handsomest foxes, both in color and form, that they had ever seen.

  53. The only fault with him was that he had lost one ear.

  54. 15

    “If you care to do us a service,” said Wind-Ile, “we won’t say no.”

  55. At the same moment both he and the others flew up out of the pit.

  56. The fox jumped down in their place, bit at the jar and pulled at the lid, but he could not open it either.

  57. 16

    “Can you figure out what is in it?” said Wind-Ile.

  58. The fox rolled the jar back and forth and listened attentively.

  59. “It can’t be anything but silver money,” he said.

  60. 17

    This was more than the crows had expected.

  61. “Do you think it can be silver?” they said, and their eyes were nearly popping out of their heads with greed, for however strange it may sound, there is nothing in the world that crows love as much as silver money.

  62. 18

    “Hear how they rattle!” said the fox, and rolled the jar around once more.

  63. “I simply can’t understand how we’re to get at them.”

  64. —“No, it will surely be impossible,” said the crows.

  65. The fox stood rubbing his head against his left leg and pondering.

  66. Perhaps he might now succeed, with the crows’ help, in becoming master of that little fellow who always escaped him.

  67. “I do know of someone who could open the jar for you,” said the fox.

  68. —“Tell us, then!

  69. Tell us!” cried the crows, and were so eager that they flapped down into the pit.

  70. —“That I will do, only if you first promise to agree to my terms,” said he.

  71. 19

    The fox now told the crows about Thumbietot, and told them that if they could bring him to the heath, then he would surely open the jar for them.

  72. But as payment for this advice he demanded that they hand Thumbietot over to him as soon as he had gotten them the silver money.

  73. The crows had no reason to spare Thumbietot, so they agreed to the bargain at once.

  74. 20

    All this was easily agreed upon, but it was harder to find out where Thumbietot and the wild geese were.

  75. 21

    Wind-Ile himself set off with fifty crows and said that he would soon be back.

  76. But one day passed after another without the crows on Kråkåsen catching a glimpse of him.

  77. 22

    The wild geese were up at first dawn so as to manage to get a bit of food before they were to start on the journey up toward Östergötland.

  78. The islet in Gåsfjärden, where they had slept, was small and bare, but in the water around it there were plants they could eat their fill of.

  79. It was worse for the boy.

  80. He was not able to find anything edible.

  81. 23

    As he stood there hungry and chilly with the morning cold, looking about him in every direction, his eyes fell on a couple of squirrels playing on a wooded point opposite the rocky islet.

  82. He wondered whether the squirrels still had any of their winter store left, and he asked the white gander to carry him over to the point so that he might beg a couple of hazelnuts from them.

  83. 24

    The big white one at once swam across the sound with him, but as ill luck would have it, the squirrels were having such fun chasing each other from tree to tree that they paid no attention to the boy.

  84. Instead, they drew farther in among the trees.

  85. He hurried after them and soon was out of sight of the gander, who stayed behind on the shore.

  86. 25

    The boy waded forward among some clumps of wood anemones that were so tall they reached clear up to his chin, when he felt someone seize him from behind and try to lift him up.

  87. He turned around and saw that a crow had gripped hold of his shirt collar.

  88. He tried to tear himself loose, but before he had managed it, yet another crow rushed up, dug its claws into one of his stockings, and pulled him over.

  89. 26

    If Nils Holgersson had called for help at once, the white gander could certainly have freed him, but the boy supposed he ought to be able to manage on his own against a couple of crows.

  90. He kicked and struck out, but the crows did not let go their hold, and they managed to lift him up into the air.

  91. In doing so they flew so carelessly that his head struck against a branch.

  92. He got a hard blow on the crown of his head, everything went black before his eyes, and he lost consciousness.

  93. 27

    When he opened his eyes again, he found himself high above the earth.

  94. He slowly regained consciousness, and at first he knew neither where he was nor what he saw.

  95. When he looked down, it seemed to him that beneath him there spread out an immensely large, woolly rug, woven of green and brown in great, irregular patterns.

  96. The rug was very thick and splendid, but he thought it a pity that it was so badly worn.

  97. It was quite tattered; long tears ran through it, and in places great pieces were torn away.

  98. And the strangest thing was that it seemed to lie spread out over a mirrored floor, for beneath the holes and tears in the rug there shimmered smooth, glittering glass.

  99. 28

    The next thing the boy noticed was that the sun came rolling up in the sky.

  100. At once the mirrored glass beneath the holes and tears in the rug began to glitter in red and gold.

  101. It looked very splendid, and the boy was glad at the beautiful shifting colors, although he did not quite understand what it was he saw.

  102. But now the crows descended, and all at once he noticed that the great rug beneath him was the earth, which here was clothed in green evergreen forest and brown, bare deciduous woods, and that the holes and tears were glittering bays and small lakes.

  103. 29

    He remembered that the first time he had traveled up in the air, he had thought that the land of Skåne looked like a checkered piece of cloth.

  104. But this, which resembled a torn-up rug — what kind of land could it be?

  105. 30

    He began asking himself a great many questions.

  106. Why was he not sitting on the white gander’s back?

  107. Why was a great swarm of crows flying around him?

  108. And why was he being jerked and flung this way and that, so that he was nearly coming apart?

  109. 31

    Then it all became clear to him at once.

  110. He had been carried off by a couple of crows.

  111. The white gander lay waiting back on the shore, and the wild geese were to travel up toward Östergötland today.

  112. He himself was being carried southwest — that he understood from the fact that he had the sun’s disk behind him.

  113. And the great forest rug lying beneath him was surely Småland.

  114. 32

    “How will it go now with the white gander, when I can’t take care of him?” thought the boy, and began shouting at the crows to carry him straight back to the wild geese.

  115. He was not the least bit worried on his own account.

  116. He believed it was out of sheer mischief that they were carrying him off.

  117. 33

    The crows paid not the least attention to his demands, but flew on as fast as they were able.

  118. But after a while one of them clapped its wings in the manner that means: “Look out!

  119. Danger!”

  120. Directly after, they dove down into a spruce forest, pushed between the twiggy branches clear down to the forest floor, and set the boy down under a thick spruce, where he was so well hidden that not even a falcon could have caught sight of him.

  121. 34

    Fifty crows lined up around the boy with their beaks pointed at him to guard him.

  122. “Now perhaps I can find out, crows, what you mean by carrying me off,” he said.

  123. But he had scarcely finished speaking before a big crow hissed at him: “Just be quiet!

  124. Or I’ll peck your eyes out.”

  125. 35

    It was clear that the crow meant what she said, and the boy had nothing else to do but obey.

  126. So he sat there staring at the crows, and the crows stared at him.

  127. 36

    The longer he looked at them, the less he liked them.

  128. It was dreadful how dusty and ill-kept their feather coats were, quite as if they knew nothing of bathing or oiling.

  129. Their toes and claws were dirty with caked-on earth, and there were bits of stale food stuck in the corners of their beaks.

  130. These were a different sort of bird from wild geese, he noticed that.

  131. He thought they had cruel, greedy, watchful, and bold looks, quite like scoundrels and tramps.

  132. 37

    “It’s certainly a real gang of robbers I’ve fallen in with,” he thought.

  133. 38

    At that same moment he heard the wild geese’s calling cry above him.

  134. “Where are you?

  135. Here I am.

  136. Where are you?

  137. Here I am.”

  138. 39

    He understood that Akka and the others had set out to search for him, but before he had time to answer them, the big crow, who seemed to be leader of the band, hissed in his ear: “Think of your eyes!”

  139. And there was nothing else for him to do but keep silent.

  140. 40

    The wild geese could not have known that he was so near them, but must only have happened to fly over this forest.

  141. He heard their cries a couple of times more; then they died away.

  142. “Well, now you must manage on your own, Nils Holgersson,” he then said to himself.

  143. “Now you’ll get to show whether you’ve learned anything during these weeks in the wilds.”

  144. 41

    A little while later the crows made as if to break camp, and since they now also seemed to intend carrying him along in the same way as before, one holding his shirt collar and one his stocking, the boy said: “Isn’t there one of you crows strong enough to carry me on her back?

  145. You’ve already handled me so roughly that it feels as if I were coming apart.

  146. Just let me ride!

  147. I won’t throw myself off the crow’s back, I promise you that.”

  148. 42

    “Don’t think we care how you feel,” said the leader, but now the biggest of the crows, a ruffled and clumsy one with a white feather in its wing, came forward and said: “It would surely be better for all of us, Wind-Ile, if Thumbietot arrived whole rather than in pieces, and so I’ll try to carry him on my back.”

  149. —“If you can manage it, Fumle-Drumle, it’s no objection of mine,” said Wind-Ile.

  150. “But don’t lose him!”

  151. 43

    With this much had already been gained, and the boy felt quite pleased again.

  152. “There’s no use losing my temper just because I’ve been stolen away by crows,” he thought.

  153. “I’ll surely manage those poor wretches somehow.”

  154. 44

    The crows still kept flying southwest onward over Småland.

  155. It was a splendid morning, sunny and calm, and the birds down on the earth were in the midst of singing their courting songs.

  156. In a tall, dark forest, the thrush himself sat with drooping wings and swollen throat up in a spruce top, trilling note after note.

  157. “How beautiful you are!

  158. How beautiful you are!

  159. How beautiful you are!” he sang.

  160. “No one is so beautiful.

  161. No one is so beautiful.

  162. No one is so beautiful.”

  163. And as soon as he had finished this song, he began it anew.

  164. 45

    But the boy was just then flying over the forest, and when he had heard the song a couple of times and noticed that the thrush knew no other, he put both hands like a horn to his mouth and called down: “We’ve heard that before.

  165. We’ve heard that before.”

  166. —“Who is it?

  167. Who is it?

  168. Who is it?

  169. Who is making fun of me?” asked the thrush, trying to catch sight of whoever was calling.

  170. —“It’s Crow-Snatched making fun of your song,” answered the boy.

  171. The crow-chief turned his head at once and said: “Mind your eyes, Thumbietot!”

  172. But the boy thought: “No, I don’t care about that.

  173. I mean to show you that I’m not afraid of you.”

  174. 46

    Ever farther inland they flew, and there were forests and lakes everywhere.

  175. In a birch grove the wood pigeon sat on a bare branch, and before her stood the male pigeon.

  176. He puffed up his feathers, arched his neck, raised and lowered his body so that his breast feathers rustled against the branch.

  177. Meanwhile he cooed: “You, you, you are the loveliest in the forest.

  178. No one in the forest is as lovely as you, you, you.”

  179. 47

    But the boy went flying past overhead, and when he heard the male pigeon, he could not keep silent.

  180. “Don’t believe him!

  181. Don’t believe him!” he cried.

  182. 48

    “Who, who, who is it that’s lying about me?” cooed the male pigeon, trying to catch sight of whoever had called out to him.

  183. “It’s Crow-Snatched, who’s lying about you,” answered the boy.

  184. Again Wind-Ile turned his head toward the boy and ordered him to be silent, but Fumle-Drumle, who was carrying him, said: “Let him talk — then the little birds will think we crows have become witty and amusing birds!”

  185. —“They’re maybe not so foolish, either,” said Wind-Ile, but he rather liked the idea, for after that he let the boy shout as much as he liked.

  186. 49

    Forest and woodland was mostly what they flew over, but there were, of course, also churches and church villages and little cabins at the forest’s edge.

  187. At one spot they saw a pleasant old manor house.

  188. It lay with the forest behind it and the lake in front, had red walls and a broken roof, huge maples around the yard, and big, straggly gooseberry bushes in the garden.

  189. At the very top of the weathervane sat the starling, singing so that every note carried in to the female, who lay on her eggs in the nest box in the pear tree.

  190. “We have four pretty little eggs,” sang the starling.

  191. “We have four pretty little round eggs.

  192. We have a whole nest full of splendid eggs.”

  193. 50

    When the starling was singing the song for the thousandth time, the boy flew over the yard.

  194. He put his hands to his mouth like a tube and called: “The magpie will get them.

  195. The magpie will get them.”

  196. 51

    “Who is it that wants to frighten me?” asked the starling, flapping his wings anxiously.

  197. —“It’s Crow-Caught, who’s frightening you,” said the boy.

  198. This time the crow-chief did not try to silence him.

  199. Instead, both he and the whole flock had such fun that they cawed with satisfaction.

  200. 52

    The farther inland they came, the bigger the lakes grew, and the richer they became in islands and points of land.

  201. And on a lakeshore stood the drake, preening himself before the duck.

  202. “I’ll be true to you all my days.

  203. I’ll be true to you all my days,” said the drake.

  204. —“Won’t last till summer’s end,” shouted the boy, flying past.

  205. —“Who are you, then?” called the drake.

  206. —“My name is Crow-Stolen,” shouted the boy.

  207. 53

    At midday the crows landed in a pasture.

  208. They flew about getting food for themselves, but none of them thought of giving the boy anything.

  209. Then Fumle-Drumle came flying up to the chief with a twig from a thorn bush that had a few red rosehips on it.

  210. “Here, you shall have this, Wind-Ile,” he said.

  211. “It’s fine food, well suited to you.”

  212. Wind-Ile snorted scornfully.

  213. “Do you think I want to eat old dry rosehips?” he said.

  214. —“And here I thought you’d be glad to have them!” said Fumle-Drumle, and tossed the rosehip twig away as if in disappointment.

  215. But it fell down right in front of the boy, and he was not slow to grab hold of it and eat his fill.

  216. 54

    When the crows had eaten, they began to talk.

  217. “What are you thinking about, Wind-Ile?

  218. You’re so quiet today,” said one of them to the leader.

  219. —“I’m thinking that in this district there once lived a hen who was very fond of her mistress, and to give her real joy went and laid a clutch of eggs, which she hid under a barn floor.

  220. The whole time she brooded the eggs, she rejoiced at the thought of how glad the mistress would be over the chicks.

  221. The mistress, of course, wondered where the hen was keeping herself for so long a time.

  222. She searched for her but did not find her.

  223. Can you guess, Long-Beak, who found her and the eggs?”

  224. 55

    “I think I can guess it, Wind-Ile, but when you have told about this, I’ll tell something similar.

  225. Do you remember the big black cat at Hinneryd parsonage?

  226. She was displeased with the master’s household, because they always took the newborn kittens from her and drowned them.

  227. Only once did she manage to keep them hidden, and that was when she had put them in a haystack

  228. 56

    out in the field.

  229. She was, to be sure, quite pleased with the kittens, but I think I got more joy out of them, I did, than she.”

  230. 57

    Now they all grew so eager that they kept interrupting each other.

  231. “What kind of skill is it to steal eggs and young ones?” said one.

  232. “I once hunted a young hare that was nearly full-grown.

  233. It was a matter of following him from thicket to thicket.”

  234. She got no further before another took the word from her.

  235. “It may well be amusing to cause hens and cats vexation, but I find it still more remarkable that a crow can bring a human being trouble.

  236. I once stole a silver spoon...

  237. 58

    But now the boy thought he was too good to sit and listen to such talk.

  238. “No, listen now, crows!” he said.

  239. “I think you ought to be ashamed to talk of all your wickedness.

  240. I have lived among wild geese for three weeks, and from them I have seen and heard nothing but good.

  241. You must have a poor chief, who lets you rob and murder in that way.

  242. You ought to begin a different life, for I can tell you that people have become so fed up with your wickedness that they’re trying with all their might to root you out.

  243. And then it’ll surely soon be all over for you.”

  244. 59

    When Wind-Ile and the crows heard this, they grew so angry that they meant to fall upon the boy and tear him to pieces.

  245. But Fumle-Drumle laughed and cawed and placed himself in front of him.

  246. “No, no, no!” he said, seeming quite frightened.

  247. “What do you think Wind-Kåra will say if you tear Thumbietot to pieces before he’s gotten us the silver money?”

  248. —“It would be just like you, Fumle-Drumle, to be afraid of womenfolk,” said Ile, but in any case both he and the others left Thumbietot in peace.

  249. 60

    Shortly after, the crows moved on.

  250. Up to now the boy had been thinking to himself that Småland was not as poor a land as he had heard.

  251. It was certainly wooded and full of ridges, but along the streams and lakes lay cultivated land, and he had not come across any real desolation.

  252. But the farther inland they came, the rarer the villages and cottages became.

  253. At last he thought he was flying over a real wasteland, where he saw nothing but bogs and heaths and juniper knolls.

  254. 61

    The sun had set, but it was still full daylight when the crows reached the great heather heath.

  255. Wind-Ile sent a crow ahead to report that he had succeeded, and when this became known, Wind-Kåra rose with several hundred crows from Kråkåsen to meet the ones arriving.

  256. In the midst of the deafening cawing that the welcoming crows raised, Fumle-Drumle now said to the boy: “You’ve been so cheerful and merry on the journey that I’ve really come to like you.

  257. So I want to give you a piece of good advice.

  258. As soon as we land, you’ll be asked to do a piece of work that may seem very easy to you.

  259. But be careful not to do it!”

  260. 62

    Directly after, Fumle-Drumle set Nils Holgersson down on the bottom of a sand pit.

  261. The boy threw himself down and lay still, as though he were quite overcome with weariness.

  262. So many crows flapped about him that the air roared like a storm, but he did not look up.

  263. 63

    “Thumbietot,” said Wind-Ile, “get up now!

  264. You’re to help us now with something that’s very easy for you.”

  265. 64

    But the boy did not stir, but pretended he was asleep.

  266. Then Wind-Ile took him by the arm and dragged him across the sand to a clay jar of old-fashioned shape, standing in the middle of the pit.

  267. “Get up, Thumbietot,” he said, “and open this jar!”

  268. —“Why can’t you let me sleep?” said the boy.

  269. “I’m too tired to do anything tonight.

  270. Wait till tomorrow!”

  271. 65

    “Open the jar!” said Wind-Ile, shaking him.

  272. The boy then sat up and examined the jar carefully.

  273. “How am I, a poor child, supposed to open a jar like that?

  274. Why, it’s as big as I am myself.”

  275. —“Open it!” commanded Wind-Ile once more.

  276. “Or it’ll go badly for you.”

  277. The boy got up, tottered over to the jar, felt at the lid, and let his arms sink.

  278. “I’m not usually this weak,” he said.

  279. “If you’ll only let me sleep till tomorrow, I think I’ll manage to get the better of the lid.”

  280. 66

    But Wind-Ile was impatient, and he rushed forward and pinched the boy’s leg.

  281. Such treatment the boy would not put up with from a crow.

  282. He quickly tore himself loose, sprang a couple of steps backward, drew his knife from its sheath, and held it stretched out before him.

  283. “You watch out!” he shouted at Wind-Ile.

  284. 67

    He, however, was so embittered that he did not swerve aside from the danger.

  285. Quite as if he had been blind, he rushed at the boy and came so squarely against the knife that it drove through his eye into his brain.

  286. The boy quickly drew the knife back, but Wind-Ile only beat out with his wings.

  287. Then he sank down dead.

  288. 68

    “Wind-Ile is dead!

  289. The stranger has killed our chief Wind-Ile!” shouted the nearest crows, and then a terrible uproar arose.

  290. Some lamented, others cried out for revenge.

  291. All of them rushed or flapped toward the boy with Fumle-Drumle in the lead.

  292. But he behaved, as usual, foolishly.

  293. He merely flapped his outspread wings over the boy and kept the others from getting at him and driving their beaks into him.

  294. 69

    Now the boy thought that he was in a truly bad way.

  295. He couldn’t run away from the crows, and there was no place where he could hide.

  296. But then he came to think of the clay jar.

  297. He took a hard grip on the lid and tore it off.

  298. Then he jumped up into the jar to hide himself in it.

  299. But it was a poor hiding place, for it was almost full to the brim with small, thin silver coins.

  300. The boy did not sink deep enough down into it.

  301. So he bent down and began throwing out the coins.

  302. 70

    Up until now the crows had been flapping around him in a dense swarm, snapping at him, but when he threw out the coins, they at once forgot their thirst for revenge and hurried to snatch them up.

  303. The boy flung out money by the fistful, and all the crows, yes, even Wind-Kåra herself, caught them up.

  304. And every one who managed to get hold of a coin flew off in the greatest haste to its nest to hide it.

  305. 71

    When the boy had thrown all the silver coins out of the jar, he looked up.

  306. Not more than a single crow remained in the sand pit.

  307. It was Fumle-Drumle with the white feather in his wing, the one who had carried him.

  308. “You’ve done me a greater service, Thumbietot, than you yourself realize,” said the crow, in a wholly different voice and tone than before, “and I want to save your life.

  309. Get up on my back, and I’ll carry you to a hiding place where you can be safe for tonight!

  310. Tomorrow I’ll arrange for you to get back to the wild geese.”

  311. 72

    The next morning, when the boy woke, he was lying on a bed.

  312. When he saw that he was indoors with four walls around him and a roof over him, he thought he was home.

  313. “I wonder if Mother will soon be bringing coffee,” he murmured, lying there half asleep.

  314. But then he remembered that he was in an abandoned cottage on Kråkåsen, and that Fumle-Drumle with the white feather had carried him there the evening before.

  315. 73

    The boy was sore all over from the journey he had made the day before, and he thought it was good to lie still while he waited for Fumle-Drumle, who had promised to come and fetch him.

  316. 74

    Curtains of checked cotton cloth hung before the bed, and he pushed them aside to look out into the cottage.

  317. He at once realized that he had never seen the like of such a building as this.

  318. The walls consisted of only a couple of rows of logs; then the roof began.

  319. There was no inner ceiling, so he could see clear up to the ridge beam.

  320. The whole cottage was so small that it seemed rather to be made for such as him than for real people, yet the hearth and chimney breast were so hugely built that he thought he had never seen bigger.

  321. The entrance door was on one gable wall beside the hearth and was so narrow that it looked more like a hatch.

  322. On the other gable wall he saw a low, broad window with many small panes.

  323. There was hardly any movable furniture in the cottage.

  324. The bench along one long wall and the table under the window were built into the wall, and so was the big bed where he lay, and the painted wall cupboard.

  325. 75

    The boy could not help wondering who owned the cottage, and why it stood abandoned.

  326. It certainly looked as though the people who had lived there had intended to come back.

  327. The coffee pot and the porridge kettle still stood in the hearth, and there was a little firewood in the fireplace nook.

  328. The oven rake and the peel stood up in a corner, the spinning wheel stood moved up onto a bench, and on the shelf above the window lay tow and flax, a couple of hanks of yarn, a tallow candle, and a bundle of matches.

  329. 76

    Yes, it certainly looked as though those who had owned the cottage had intended to come back.

  330. There were bedclothes on the bed, and on the wall there still hung long strips of cloth on which three men on horseback, named Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, were painted.

  331. The same horses and the same riders were pictured many times over.

  332. They rode all the way around the cottage and continued their journey even up onto the roof beams.

  333. 77

    But up in the ceiling the boy caught sight of something that brought him to his feet in a hurry.

  334. It was a couple of dry bread cakes hanging there on a spit.

  335. They certainly looked moldy and old, but it was bread all the same.

  336. He gave them a blow with the oven peel, so that a piece fell to the floor.

  337. He ate, and stuffed his bag full.

  338. It was unbelievable how good bread was, after all.

  339. 78

    He looked around the cottage once more to try to discover whether there wasn’t something else he might find useful to take along.

  340. “I suppose I may take what I need, since no one else cares about it,” he thought.

  341. But most of what there was, was too big and heavy.

  342. The only thing he could manage would be a few matches.

  343. 79

    He climbed up onto the table and then swung himself, with the help of the curtain, up onto the windowsill.

  344. While he stood there stuffing the matches into his bag, the crow with the white feather came in through the window.

  345. 80

    “Here I am now!” said Fumle-Drumle, alighting on the table.

  346. “I couldn’t come sooner, because we crows today chose a new chief after Wind-Ile.”

  347. —“Who did you choose, then?” said the boy.

  348. —“Well, we’ve chosen one who won’t allow robbery and injustice.

  349. We’ve chosen Garm Whitefeather, who used to be called Fumle-Drumle,” he answered, drawing himself up so that he looked altogether majestic.

  350. —“That was a good choice,” said the boy, and congratulated him.

  351. —“Yes, you may well wish me luck,” said Garm, and began telling the boy about such days as he had once had with Wind-Ile and Kåra.

  352. 81

    In the midst of this, the boy heard outside the window a voice he thought he recognized.

  353. “Is this where he is?” asked Smirre the fox.

  354. —“Yes, in here he’s hidden,” answered a crow’s voice.

  355. —“Look out, Thumbietot!” shouted Garm.

  356. “Wind-Kåra is standing out here with that fox who wants to eat you up.”

  357. He had no time to say more, for Smirre made a leap at the window.

  358. The old rotten window frames gave way, and in the next moment Smirre stood on the windowsill.

  359. Garm Whitefeather, who had no time to fly away, he bit to death on the spot.

  360. Then he jumped down onto the floor and looked around for the boy.

  361. 82

    He tried to hide behind a big bundle of flax tow, but Smirre had already seen him and crouched to gather himself for a spring.

  362. And the cottage was so small and low that the boy understood the fox could reach him without the least difficulty.

  363. But at this moment the boy was not without a weapon of defense.

  364. Quickly he struck a match to flame, held it to the flax tow, and when it burst into fire, threw it down onto Smirre the fox.

  365. When the fire caught the fox, he was seized with a mad terror.

  366. He thought no more of the boy, but fled the cottage in blind panic.

  367. 83

    But it looked as if the boy had escaped one danger only by throwing himself into an even greater one.

  368. From the flax tuft he had thrown at Smirre, the fire had had time to spread to the bed curtain.

  369. He jumped down and tried to smother it, but it was already blazing too fiercely.

  370. The cottage quickly filled with smoke, and Smirre the fox, who had stayed outside the window, began to understand how things stood in there.

  371. “Well, Thumbietot,” he called, “which do you choose now, to let yourself be roasted, or to come out to me?

  372. I’d certainly like best to eat you, but however death overtakes you, it’s welcome to me.”

  373. 84

    The boy could not help thinking the fox would be proved right, for the fire spread with frightful speed.

  374. The whole bed was already burning, smoke rose up from the floor, and along the painted cloth strips the fire crept from rider to rider.

  375. The boy had jumped up into the hearth and was trying to open the door of the baking oven when he heard a key being put into the lock and slowly turned.

  376. It must be people coming, and in such distress as he now found himself, he was not afraid, only glad.

  377. He was already standing on the threshold when the door finally opened.

  378. He saw a couple of children in front of him, but what expression they wore when they saw the cottage in full blaze, he took no time to notice, but rushed past them out into the open.

  379. 85

    He dared not run far.

  380. He knew well enough that Smirre the fox lay in wait for him, and he understood he must stay near the children.

  381. He turned around to see what sort of folk they were, but he had not looked at them a second before he hurried toward them, calling: “Why, good day, Åsa the goose girl!

  382. Good day, little Mats!”

  383. 86

    For when the boy saw those children, he completely forgot where he was.

  384. Crows and burning cottage and talking animals vanished from his memory.

  385. He was walking on a stubble field in Västra Vemmenhög, watching over a flock of geese, and in the field next door those Småland children were walking with their geese.

  386. And as soon as he caught sight of them, he jumped up onto the stone wall and called: “Why, good day, Åsa the goose girl!

  387. Good day, little Mats!”

  388. 87

    But when the two children saw such a tiny mite coming toward them with outstretched hand, they clutched at each other, took a couple of steps backward, and looked deathly frightened.

  389. 88

    When the boy saw their fright, he woke up and remembered who he was.

  390. And then he thought that nothing worse could happen to him than that just those children should see that he had been bewitched.

  391. Shame and sorrow at no longer being human overwhelmed him.

  392. He turned around and fled.

  393. He himself did not know where.

  394. 89

    But the boy had a happy encounter when he came down onto the heath.

  395. For there in the heather he glimpsed something white, and coming toward him was the white gander in company with Dunfin.

  396. When the white one saw the boy come running at such speed, he thought that terrible enemies were pursuing him.

  397. He flung him hastily up onto his back and set off with him.

The particulars

The text
Nils Holgerssons underbara resa genom Sverige, Selma Lagerlöf. The Wonderful Adventures of Nils.
Translation
Public-domain Swedish (Lagerlöf, d. 1940; published 1906–07). English translation © 2026 1732 Studios, LLC.
Words
Every word of the text, by letter.
Data
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Two whoopie pies and a pine. An inside joke.