 section 44 of the Wonderful Adventures of Nils. This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, reading by Lars Rolander. The Wonderful Adventures of Nils by Selma Lagerlöf, translated by Velma Svonston-Howard. Home at Last Tuesday, November 8. The atmosphere was dull and hazy. The wild geese had been feeding on the big meadow around Scare of Church, and were having their noonday rest when Aka came up to the boy. It looks as if we should have calm weather for a while, Sri Rimaat, and I think we'll cross the Baltic to-morrow. Indeed, said the boy abruptly, for his throat contracted so that he could hardly speak. All along he had cherished the hope that he would be released from the enchantment while he was still in Skåne. We are quite near West Vemmingurg now, said Aka, and I thought that perhaps you might like to go home for a while. It may be some time before you have another opportunity to see your people. Perhaps I had better not, said the boy hesitatingly, but something in his voice betrayed that he was glad of Aka's proposal. If the gocegander remains with us, no harm can come to him, Aka assured. I think you had better find out how your parents are getting along. You might be of some help to them, even if you're not a normal boy. You're right, mother Aka. I should have thought of that long ago, said the boy impulsively. The next second he and the leader-goose were on their way to his home. It was not long before Aka alighted behind the stone hedge, encircling the little farm. Strange how natural everything looks around here, the boy remarked, quickly clumbering to the top of the hedge, so that he could look about. It seems to me only yesterday that I first saw you come flying through the air. I wonder if your father has a gun, said Aka suddenly. You may be sure he has returned the boy. It was just the gun that kept me at home that Sunday morning when I should have been at church. Then I don't dare to stand here and wait for you, said Aka. You had better meet us at Smiggyhub early tomorrow morning, so that you may stay at home overnight. Oh, don't go yet, mother Aka, begged the boy, jumping from the hedge. He could not tell just why it was, but he felt as if something would happen, either to the wild goose or to himself, to prevent their future meeting. No doubt you see that I am distressed because I cannot get back my right form, but I want to say to you that I don't regret having gone with you last spring, he added. I would rather forfeit the chance of ever being human again than to have missed that trip. Aka breathed quickly before she answered. There is a little matter I should have mentioned to you before this, but since you are not going back to your home for good, I thought there was no hurry about it. Still, it may as well be said now. You know very well that I am always glad to do your bidding, said the boy. If you have learnt anything at all from us, Thambitot, you no longer think that the humans should have the whole earth to themselves, said the wild goose solemnly. Remember, you have a large country, and you can easily afford to leave a few bare rocks, a few shallow lakes and swamps, a few desolate cliffs and remote forests to us poor, dumb creatures, where we can be allowed to live in peace. All my days I have been hounded and hunted. It would be a comfort to know that there is a refuge somewhere for one like me. Indeed, I should be glad to help if I could, said the boy. But it is not likely that I shall ever again have any influence among human beings. Well, we are standing here talking as if we were never to meet again, said Akka. But we shall see each other tomorrow, of course. Now I return to my flock. She spread her wings and started to fly, but came back and stroked Thambitot up and down with her bill before she flew away. It was broad daylight, but no human being moved on the farm, and the boy could go where he pleased. He hastened to the cowshed, because he knew that he could get the best information from the cows. It looked rather barren in their shed. In the spring there had been three fine cows there, but now there was only one, Mayrose. It was quite apparent that she adjourned for her comrades. Her head drooped sadly, and she had hardly touched the feed in her crib. Good day, Mayrose, said the boy, running fearlessly into her stall. How are mother and father? How are the cat and the chickens? What has become of star and gold, Lily? When Mayrose heard the boy's voice, she started and appeared as if she were going to gore him, but she was not so quick-tempered now as formally, and took time to look well at Nils Holgersson. He was just as little now as when he went away, and wore the same clothes, yet he was completely changed. The Nils Holgersson that went away in the spring had a heavy, slow gait, a drawing speech, and sleepy eyes. The one that had come back was sleet and alert, ready of speech, and had eyes that sparkled and danced. He had a confident peering that commanded respect, little as he was. Although he himself did not look happy, he inspired happiness in others. Bellowed Mayrose, they told me that he was changed, but I couldn't believe it. Welcome home, Nils Holgersson. Welcome home. This is the first glad moment I have known for ever so long. Thank you, Mayrose, said the boy who was very happy to be so well-received. Now tell me about father and mother. They have had nothing but hardship ever since you went away, said Mayrose. The horse has been a costly care all summer, for he has stood in the stable the whole time and not earned his feed. Your father is too soft-hearted to shoot him, and he can't sell him. It was an account of the horse that both Dara and Go Lily had to be sold. There was something else the boy wanted badly to know, but he was diffident about asking the question point-blank. Therefore, he said, Mother must have felt very sorry when she discovered that Morton Goosegander had flown. She wouldn't have worried much about Morton Goosegander, had she known the way he came to leave. She grieves most at the thought of her son having run away from home with a Goosegander. Does she really think that I stole the Goosegander? said the boy. What else could she think? Father and mother must fancy that I've been roaming about the country like a common tramp. They think that you've gone to the dogs, said Mayrose. They have mourned you as one mourns the loss of the deer's thing on earth. As soon as the boy heard this, he rushed from the cow shed and down to the stable. It was small but clean and tidy. Everything showed that his father had tried to make the place comfortable for the new horse. In the stalls stood a strong fine animal that looked well fed and well cared for. Good day to you, said the boy. I have heard that there is a sick horse in here. Surely it can't be you, who looks so healthy and strong. The horse turned his head and stared fixedly at the boy. Are you the son? he queered. I have heard many bad reports of him. But you have such a good face. I couldn't believe that you were he. Did I not know that he was transformed into an elf? I know that I left a bad name behind me when I went away from the farm, admitted Nils Holgerson. My own mother thinks I'm a thief. But what matters it? I shan't tarry here long. Meanwhile, I want to know what ails you. Petty, you are not going to stay, said the horse, for I have the feeling that you and I might become good friends. I've got something in my foot, the point of a knife or something sharp. That's all that ails me. It has gone so far in that the doctor can't find it, but it cuts so that I can't walk. If you would only tell your father what's wrong with me, I'm sure that he could help me. I should like to be of some use. I really feel ashamed to stand here and feed without doing any work. It's well that you have no real illness, remarked Nils Holgerson. I must attend to this at once so that you will be all right again. You don't mind if I do a little scratching on your hoof with my knife, do you? Nils Holgerson had just finished when he heard the sound of voices. He opened the stable door a little and peeped out. His father and mother were coming down the lane. It was easy to see that they were broken by many sorrows. His mother had many lines on her face, and his father's hair had turned gray. She was talking with him about getting a loan from her brother-in-law. No, I don't want to borrow any more money. His father said as they were passing the stable. There's nothing quite so hard as being in depth. It would be better to sell the cabin. If it were not for the boy, I shouldn't mind selling it, his mother demurred. But what will become of him if he returns some day, wretched and poor, as he's likely to be, and we not here? You're right about that, the father agreed. But we shall have to ask the forks to take the place to receive him kindly, and to let him know that he's welcome back to us. We shan't say a harsh word to him, no matter what he may be. Shall we, mother? No, indeed. If I only had him again, so that I could be certain he's not starving and freezing on the highways, I'd ask nothing more. Then his father and mother went in, and the boy heard no more of their conversation. He was happy and deeply moved when he knew that they loved him so dearly, or though they believed he had gone astray, he longed to rush into their arms. But perhaps it would be an even greater sorrow were they to see me as I now am. While he stood there hesitating, a cart drove up to the gate. The boy smothered a cry of surprise, for who should step from the cart and go into the houseyard but Ossa, the goose girl, and her father? They walked hand in hand toward the cabin. When they were about halfway there, Ossa stopped her father and said, Now remember, father, you are not to mention the wooden shoe or the geese or the little brownie who was so like Nils Holgerson, that if it was not himself, it must have had some connection with him. Certainly not, said John Esershon. I shall only say that their son has been of great help to you on several locations, when you were trying to find me, and that therefore we have come to ask if we can't do them a service in return. Since I am rich man now, I have more than I need, thanks to the mine I discovered up in Lapland. I know, father, that you can say the right thing in the right way, Ossa commanded. It's only that one particular thing that I don't wish you to mention. They went into the cabin, and the boy would have liked to hear what they talked about in there, but he dared not venture near the house. It was not long before they came out again, and his father and mother accompanied them as far as the gate. His parents were strangely happy. They appeared to have gained a new hold on life. When the visitors were gone, father and mother lingered at the gate, gazing after them. I don't feel unhappy any longer, since I've heard so much that it's good of our Nils, said his mother. Perhaps he got more praise than he really deserved, put in his father thoughtfully. Wasn't it enough for you that they came here specially to say that they wanted to help us, because our Nils had served them in many ways? I think, father, that you should have accepted their offer. No, mother, I don't wish to accept money from anyone, either as a gift or a loan. In the first place I want to free myself from all debt, then we will work our way up again. We are not so very old, are we, mother? The father laughed heartily as he said this. I believe you think it will be fun to sell this place upon which we have expended such a lot of time and hard work, protested the mother. Oh, you know why I'm laughing, the father retorted. It was the thought of the boys having gone to the bad that weighed me down, until I had no strength or courage left in me. Now that I know he still lives and has turned out well, you'll see that Holger Nilsen has some grit left. The mother went in alone, and the boy made haste to hide in a corner, for his father walked into the stable. He went over to the horse and examined its hoof, as usual, to try to discover what was wrong with it. What's this? he cried, discovering some letters scratched on the hoof. Remove the sharpies of iron from the foot. He read and glanced around inquiringly. However, he ran his fingers along the underside of the hoof, and looked at it carefully. I barely believe there is something sharp here, he said. While his father was busy with the horse and the boys had huddled in a corner, it happened that other callers came to the farm. The fact was that when Morton Goosegander found himself so near his old home, he simply could not resist the temptation of showing his wife and children to his old companions on the farm. So he took Dunfin and the Gooslings along and made for home. There was not a soul in the barnyard when the Goosegander came along. He alighted confidently, walked all around the place and showed Dunfin how luxuriously he had lived when he was a tame Goose. When they had viewed the entire farm, he noticed that the door of the cow shed was open. Look in here a moment, he said. Then you will see how I lived in former days. It was very different from camping in swamps and morasses, as we do now. The Goosegander stood in the doorway and looked into the cow shed. There's not a soul in here, he said. Come along, Dunfin, and you shall see the Goosepen. Don't be afraid, there's no danger. Forced with the Goosegander, Dunfin and all six Gooslings whaddled into the Goosepen to have a look at the elegance and comfort in which the big white gander had lived before he joined the wild geese. This is the way it used to be. Here was my place, and over there was the trough, which was always filled with oats and water. He explained the Goosegander, wait, there's some fodder in it now. With that he rushed to the trough and began to gobble up the oats. But Dunfin was nervous. Let's go out again, she said. Only two more grains, insisted the Goosegander. The next second he let out a shriek and ran for the door, but it was too late. The door slammed. The mystery stood without and bolted it. They were locked in. The father had removed a sharp piece of iron from the horse's hoof and stood contentedly stroking the animal when the mother came running into the stable. Come, father, and see the capture I've made. Now, wait a minute, said the father. Look here first. I have discovered what ate the horse. I believe our luck has turned, said the mother. Only fancy. The big white Goosegander that disappeared last spring must have gone off with the wild geese. He has come back to us in company with seven wild geese. They walked straight into the Goosepen, and I've shut them all in. That's extraordinary, remarked the father. But best of all is that we don't have to think any more that our boy stole the Goosegander when he went away. You're quite right, father, she said, but I'm afraid we'll have to kill them tonight. In two days is Morten Goose Day, and we must make haste if we expect to get them to mark it in time. Footnote. In Sweden the 10th of November is called Morten Goose Day and corresponds to the American Thanksgiving Day. I think it would be outrageous to butcher the Goosegander now that he is returned to us with such a large family, protested Holger Nilsson. If times were easier, we'd let him live, but since we're going to move from here, we can't keep geese. Come along now and help me carry them into the kitchen, urged the mother. They went out together, and in a few moments the boy saw his father coming along with Morten Goosegander and Dönfinne, one under each arm. He and his wife went into the cabin. The Goosegander cried, Bambi, come and help me, as he always did when in peril, although he was not aware that the boy was at hand. Nils Holgersson heard him, yet he lingered at the door of the cowshed. He did not hesitate because he knew that it would be well for him if the Goosegander were beheaded. At that moment he did not even remember this, but because he shrank from being seen by his parents. They have had a hard time enough of it already, he thought. Must I bring them a new sorrow? But when the door closed on the Goosegander, the boy was aroused. He dashed across the house yard, rang up on the boardwalk leading to the entrance door, and ran into the hallway, where he kicked off his wooden shoes in the old accustomed way, and walked toward the door. All the while it went so much against the grain to appear before his father and mother that he could not raise his hand to knock. But this concerns the life of the Goosegander, he said to himself, he who has been my best friend ever since I last stood here. In a twinkling the boy remembered all that he and the Goosegander had suffered on ice-bound lakes and stormy seas, and among wild beasts of prey. His heart swelled with gratitude. He conquered himself and knocked on the door. Is there someone who wishes to come in? asked his father, opening the door. Mother, you shan't touch the Goosegander, cried the boy. Instantly both the Goosegander and Dünfin, who lay on a bench with their feet tied, gave a cry of joy, so that he was sure they were alive. Someone else gave a cry of joy. His mother. My, but you have grown tall and handsome, she exclaimed. The boy had not entered the cabin, but was standing on the doorstep, like one who is not quite certain how he will be received. The Lord be praised that I have you back again, said his mother, laughing and crying. Come in, my boy, come in. Welcome, added his father, and not another word could he utter. But the boy still lingered at the threshold. He could not comprehend why they were so glad to see him, such as he was. Then his mother came and put her arms around him, and drew him into the room, and he knew that he was all right. Mother and father, he cried, I am a big boy, I am a human being again. End of Home at Last, read by Lars Rolander. Reading by Lars Rolander. The boy arose before dawn, and wandered down to the coast. He was standing alone on the strand east of Smüge fishing hamlet before sunrise. He had already been in the pen with Morten Guzegander to try to rouse him, but the big white gander had no desire to leave home. He did not say a word, but only stuck his bill under his wing, and went to sleep again. To all appearances, the weather promised to be almost as perfect as it had been that spring day when the wild geese came to scorn her. There was hardly a ripple on the water. The air was still, and the boy thought of the good passage the geese would have. He himself was as yet in a kind of daze, sometimes thinking he was an elf, sometimes a human being. When he saw a stone hedge alongside the road, he was afraid to go farther until he had made sure that no wild animal or vulture lurked behind it. Very soon he laughed to himself and rejoiced because he was big and strong, and did not have to be afraid of anything. When he reached the coast, he stationed himself big as he was, at the very edge of the strand, so that the wild geese could see him. It was a busy day for the birds of passage. Bird calls sounded on the air continuously. The boy smiled as he thought that no one but himself understood what the birds were saying to one another. Presently the wild geese came flying, one big flock following another. Just so it's not my geese that are going away without bidding me far well, he thought. He wanted so much to tell them how everything had turned out, and to show them that he was no longer an elf but a human being. There came a flock that flew faster and cackled louder than the others, and something told him that this must be the flock, but now he was not quite so sure about it as he would have been the day before. The flock slackened its flight and circled up and down along the coast. The boy knew it was the right one, but he could not understand why the geese did not come straight down to him. They could not avoid seeing him where he stood. He tried to give a call that would bring them down to him, but only think his tongue would not obey him. He could not make the right sound. He heard Akka's calls but did not understand what she said. What can this mean? Have the wild geese changed their language, he wondered. He waved his cap to them and ran along the shore calling, Here am I, where are you? But this seemed only to frighten the geese. They rose and flew farther out to sea. At last he understood. They did not know that he was human, had not recognized him. He could not call them to him because human beings cannot speak the language of birds. He could not speak their language, nor could he understand it. Although the boy was very glad to be released from the enchantment, still he thought it hard that because of this he should be parted from his old comrades. He sat down on the sands and buried his face in his hands. What was the use of his casing after them any more? Presently he heard the rustle of wings. Old Mother Akka had found it hard to fly away from Thumbitott, and turned back, and now that the boy sat quite still, she ventured to fly near to him. Suddenly something must have told her who he was, for she lit close beside him. Nils gave a cry of joy and took an old Akka in his arms. The other wild geese crowded round him and stroked him with their bills. They cackled and chattered and wished him all kinds of good luck, and he too talked to them and thanked them for the wonderful journey which he had been privileged to make in their company. All at once the wild geese became strangely quiet and withdrew from him, as if to say. Alas, he is a man. He does not understand us. We do not understand him. Then the boy rose and went over to Akka. He stroked her and patted her. He did the same to Iksi and Kaxi, Kolme and Nelly, Bisi and Kousi, the old birds who had been his companions from the very start. After that he walked farther up the strand. He knew perfectly well that the sorrows of the birds do not last long, and he wanted to part with them while they were still sad at losing him. As he crossed the shore meadows, he turned and watched the many flocks of birds that were flying over the sea. All were shrieking their coaxing calls. Only one goose flock flew silently on as long as he could follow it with his eyes. The wedge was perfect, the speed could, and the wings stroked strong and certain. The boy felt such a journeying for his departing comrades, that he almost wished he were a thumb be taught again, and could travel over land and sea with a flock of wild geese. End of the parting with the wild geese, and end of the book The Wonderful Adventures of Nils by the Swedish author Selma Lagerlöf, translated by Velma Svonston-Howard, and read by Lars Rolander. Thank you for listening.