The Collected Works. Selma Lagerlöf
and Hälsingland. Under us we, saw only thick pine forests. The snow was still deep among the trees, and the creeks were mostly frozen.
"Suddenly we noticed three poachers down in the forest! They were on skis, had dogs in leash, carried knives in their belts, but had no guns.
"As there was a hard crust on the snow, they did not bother to take the winding forest paths, but skied straight ahead. Apparently they knew very well where they must go to find what they were seeking.
"We wild geese flew on, high up in the air, so that the whole forest under us was visible. When we sighted the poachers we wanted to find out where the game was, so we circled up and down, peering through the trees. Then, in a dense thicket, we saw something that looked like big, moss-covered rocks, but couldn't be rocks, for there was no snow on them.
"We shot down, suddenly, and lit in the centre of the thicket. The three rocks moved. They were three elk—a bull and two cows—resting in the bleak forest.
"When we alighted, the elk bull rose and came toward us. He was the most superb animal we had ever seen. When he saw that it was only some poor wild geese that had awakened him, he lay down again.
"'No, old granddaddy, you mustn't go back to sleep!' I cried. 'Flee as fast as you can! There are poachers in the forest, and they are bound for this very deer fold.'
"'Thank you, goose mother!' said the elk. He seemed to be dropping to sleep while he was speaking. 'But surely you must know that we elk are under the protection of the law at this time of the year. Those poachers are probably out for fox,' he yawned.
"'There are plenty of fox trails in the forest, but the poachers are not looking for them. Believe me, old granddaddy! They know that you are lying here, and are coming to attack you. They have no guns with them—only spears and knives—for they dare not fire a shot at this season.'
"The elk bull lay there calmly, but the elk cows seemed to feel uneasy.
"'It may be as the geese say,' they remarked, beginning to bestir themselves.
"'You just lie down!' said the elk bull. 'There are no poachers coming here; of that you may be certain.'
"There was nothing more to be done, so we wild geese rose again into the air. But we continued to circle over the place, to see how it would turn out for the elk.
"We had hardly reached our regular flying altitude, when we saw the elk bull come out from the thicket. He sniffed the air a little, then walked straight toward the poachers. As he strode along he stepped upon dry twigs that crackled noisily. A big barren marsh lay just beyond him. Thither he went and took his stand in the middle, where there was nothing to hide him from view.
"There he stood until the poachers emerged from the woods. Then he turned and fled in the opposite direction. The poachers let loose the dogs, and they themselves skied after him at full speed.
"The elk threw back his head and loped as fast as he could. He kicked up snow until it flew like a blizzard about him. Both dogs and men were left far behind. Then the elk stopped, as if to await their approach. When they were within sight he dashed ahead again. We understood that he was purposely tempting the hunters away from the place where the cows were. We thought it brave of him to face danger himself, in order that those who were dear to him might be left in safety. None of us wanted to leave the place until we had seen how all this was to end.
"Thus the chase continued for two hours or more. We wondered that the poachers went to the trouble of pursuing the elk when they were not armed with rifles. They couldn't have thought that they could succeed in tiring out a runner like him!
"Then we noticed that the elk no longer ran so rapidly. He stepped on the snow more carefully, and every time he lifted his feet, blood could be seen in his tracks.
"We understood why the poachers had been so persistent! They had counted on help from the snow. The elk was heavy, and with every step he sank to the bottom of the drift. The hard crust on the snow was scraping his legs. It scraped away the fur, and tore out pieces of flesh, so that he was in torture every time he put his foot down.
"The poachers and the dogs, who were so light that the ice crust could hold their weight, pursued him all the while. He ran on and on—his steps becoming more and more uncertain and faltering. He gasped for breath. Not only did he suffer intense pain, but he was also exhausted from wading through the deep snowdrifts.
"At last he lost all patience. He paused to let poachers and dogs come upon him, and was ready to fight them. As he stood there waiting, he glanced upward. When he saw us wild geese circling above him, he cried out:
"'Stay here, wild geese, until all is over! And the next time you fly over Kolmården, look up Karr, and ask him if he doesn't think that his friend Grayskin has met with a happy end?'"
When Akka had gone so far in her story the old dog rose and walked nearer to her.
"Grayskin led a good life," he said. "He understands me. He knows that I'm a brave dog, and that I shall be glad to hear that he had a happy end. Now tell me how—"
He raised his tail and threw back his head, as if to give himself a bold and proud bearing—then he collapsed.
"Karr! Karr!" called a man's voice from the forest.
The old dog rose obediently.
"My master is calling me," he said, "and I must not tarry longer. I just saw him load his gun. Now we two are going into the forest for the last time.
"Many thanks, wild goose! I know everything that I need know to die content!"
THE WIND WITCH
IN NÄRKE
In bygone days there was something in Närke the like of which was not to be found elsewhere: it was a witch, named Ysätter-Kaisa.
The name Kaisa had been given her because she had a good deal to do with wind and storm—and these wind witches are always so called. The surname was added because she was supposed to have come from Ysätter swamp in Asker parish.
It seemed as though her real abode must have been at Asker; but she used also to appear at other places. Nowhere in all Närke could one be sure of not meeting her.
She was no dark, mournful witch, but gay and frolicsome; and what she loved most of all was a gale of wind. As soon as there was wind enough, off she would fly to the Närke plain for a good dance. On days when a whirlwind swept the plain, Ysätter-Kaisa had fun! She would stand right in the wind and spin round, her long hair flying up among the clouds and the long trail of her robe sweeping the ground, like a dust cloud, while the whole plain lay spread out under her, like a ballroom floor.
Of a morning Ysätter-Kaisa would sit up in some tall pine at the top of a precipice, and look across the plain. If it happened to be winter and she saw many teams on the roads she hurriedly blew up a blizzard, piling the drifts so high that people could barely get back to their homes by evening. If it chanced to be summer and good harvest weather, Ysätter-Kaisa would sit quietly until the first hayricks had been loaded, then down she would come with a couple of heavy showers, which put an end to the work for that day.
It was only too true that she seldom thought of anything else than raising mischief. The charcoal burners up in the Kil mountains hardly dared take a cat-nap, for as soon as she saw an unwatched kiln, she stole up and blew on it until it began to burn in a great flame. If the metal drivers from Laxå