The Collected Works. Selma Lagerlöf
the big brewer's vat, jumped down, and crawled in under it.
"It was a huge vat, large enough to hold a whole Christmas brew. The wolves pounced upon it and bit at the hoops, but the vat was too heavy for them to move. They could not get at the man inside.
"He knew that he was safe and laughed at the wolves. After a bit he was serious again.
"'For the future, when I get into a tight place, I shall remember this vat, and I shall bear in mind that I need never wrong either myself or others, for there is always a third way out of a difficulty if only one can hit upon it.'"
With this Bataki closed his narrative.
The boy noticed that the raven never spoke unless there was some special meaning back of his words, and the longer he listened to him, the more thoughtful he became.
"I wonder why you told me that story?" remarked the boy.
"I just happened to think of it as I stood here, gazing up at
Sonfjället," replied the raven.
Now they had travelled farther down Lake Ljusna and in an hour or so they came to Kolsätt, close to the border of Hälsingland. Here the raven alighted near a little hut that had no windows—only a shutter. From the chimney rose sparks and smoke, and from within the sound of heavy hammering was heard.
"Whenever I see this smithy," observed the raven, "I'm reminded that, in former times, there were such skilled blacksmiths here in Härjedalen, more especially in this village—that they couldn't be matched in the whole country."
"Perhaps you also remember a story about them?" said the boy.
"Yes," returned Bataki, "I remember one about a smith from Härjedalen who once invited two other master blacksmiths—one from Dalecarlia and one from Vermland—to compete with him at nail-making. The challenge was accepted and the three blacksmiths met here at Kolsätt. The Dalecarlian began. He forged a dozen nails, so even and smooth and sharp that they couldn't be improved upon. After him came the Vermlander. He, too, forged a dozen nails, which were quite perfect and, moreover, he finished them in half the time that it took the Dalecarlian. When the judges saw this they said to the Härjedal smith that it wouldn't be worth while for him to try, since he could not forge better than the Dalecarlian or faster than the Vermlander.
"'I sha'n't give up! There must be still another way of excelling,' insisted the Härjedal smith.
"He placed the iron on the anvil without heating it at the forge; he simply hammered it hot and forged nail after nail, without the use of either anvil or bellows. None of the judges had ever seen a blacksmith wield a hammer more masterfully, and the Härjedal smith was proclaimed the best in the land."
With these remarks Bataki subsided, and the boy grew even more thoughtful.
"I wonder what your purpose was in telling me that?" he queried.
"The story dropped into my mind when I saw the old smithy again," said
Bataki in an offhand manner.
The two travellers rose again into the air and the raven carried the boy southward till they came to Lillhärdal Parish, where he alighted on a leafy mound at the top of a ridge.
"I wonder if you know upon what mound you are standing?" said Bataki.
The boy had to confess that he did not know.
"This is a grave," said Bataki. "Beneath this mound lies the first settler in Härjedalen."
"Perhaps you have a story to tell of him too?" said the boy.
"I haven't heard much about him, but I think he was a Norwegian. He had served with a Norwegian king, got into his bad graces, and had to flee the country.
"Later he went over to the Swedish king, who lived at Upsala, and took service with him. But, after a time, he asked for the hand of the king's sister in marriage, and when the king wouldn't give him such a high-born bride, he eloped with her. By that time he had managed to get himself into such disfavour that it wasn't safe for him to live either in Norway or Sweden, and he did not wish to move to a foreign country. 'But there must still be a course open to me,' he thought. With his servants and treasures, he journeyed through Dalecarlia until he arrived in the desolate forests beyond the outskirts of the province. There he settled, built houses and broke up land. Thus, you see, he was the first man to settle in this part of the country."
As the boy listened to the last story, he looked very serious.
"I wonder what your object is in telling me all this?" he repeated.
Bataki twisted and turned and screwed up his eyes, and it was some time before he answered the boy.
"Since we are here alone," he said finally, "I shall take this opportunity to question you regarding a certain matter.
"Have you ever tried to ascertain upon what terms the elf who transformed you was to restore you to a normal human being?"
"The only stipulation I've heard anything about was that I should take the white goosey-gander up to Lapland and bring him back to Skåne, safe and sound."
"I thought as much," said Bataki; "for when last we met, you talked confidently of there being nothing more contemptible than deceiving a friend who trusts one. You'd better ask Akka about the terms. You know, I dare say, that she was at your home and talked with the elf."
"Akka hasn't told me of this," said the boy wonderingly.
"She must have thought that it was best for you not to know just what the elf did say. Naturally she would rather help you than Morten Goosey-Gander."
"It is singular, Bataki, that you always have a way of making me feel unhappy and anxious," said the boy.
"I dare say it might seem so," continued the raven, "but this time I believe that you will be grateful to me for telling you that the elf's words were to this effect: You were to become a normal human being again if you would bring back Morten Goosey-Gander that your mother might lay him on the block and chop his head off."
The boy leaped up.
"That's only one of your base fabrications," he cried indignantly.
"You can ask Akka yourself," said Bataki. "I see her coming up there
with her whole flock. And don't forget what I have told you to-day.
There is usually a way out of all difficulties, if only one can find it.
I shall be interested to see what success you have."
VERMLAND AND DALSLAND
Wednesday, October fifth.
To-day the boy took advantage of the rest hour, when Akka was feeding apart from the other wild geese, to ask her if that which Bataki had related was true, and Akka could not deny it. The boy made the leader-goose promise that she would not divulge the secret to Morten Goosey-Gander. The big white gander was so brave and generous that he might do something rash were he to learn of the elf's stipulations.
Later the boy sat on the goose-back, glum and silent, and hung his head.
He heard the wild geese call out to the goslings that now they were in
Dalarne, they could see Städjan in the north, and that now they were
flying over Österdal River to Horrmund Lake and were coming to Vesterdal
River. But the boy did not care even to glance at all this.
"I shall probably travel around with wild geese the rest of my life," he remarked to himself, "and I am likely to see more of this land than I wish."
He was quite as indifferent when the wild geese called out to him that now they had arrived in Vermland and that the stream they were following southward was Klarälven.
"I've