Monday, March twenty-eighth.  
Early one morning the wild geese who stood and slept on the ice in Vomb Lake were by long calls from the air. "Trirop, Trirop!" it sounded, "Trianut, the crane, sends greetings to Akka, the wild goose, and her flock. To-morrow will be the day of the great crane dance on Kullaberg."
 
Akka raised her head and answered at once: "Greetings and thanks!
Greetings and thanks!"
With that, the cranes flew farther; and the wild geese heard them for a long while—where they travelled and called out over every field, and every wooded hill: "Trianut sends greetings. To-morrow will be the day of the great crane dance on Kullaberg."
 
The wild geese were very happy over this invitation. "You're in luck," they said to the white goosey-gander, "to be permitted to attend the great crane dance on Kullaberg!" "Is it then so to see cranes dance?" asked the goosey-gander. "It is something that you have never even dreamed about!" replied the wild geese.
 
"Now we must think out what we shall do with Thumbietot to-morrow—so that no harm can come to him, while we run over to Kullaberg," said Akka. "Thumbietot shall not be left alone!" said the goosey-gander. "If the cranes won't let him see their dance, then I'll stay with him."
 
"No human being has ever been permitted to attend the Animal's Congress, at Kullaberg," said Akka, "and I shouldn't dare to take Thumbietot along. But we'll discuss this more at length later in the day. Now we must first and foremost think about getting something to eat."
 
With that Akka gave the signal to . On this day she also sought her feeding-place a good distance away, on Smirre Fox's account, and she didn't alight until she came to the meadows a little south of Glimminge castle.
 
All that day the boy sat on the shores of a little pond, and blew on reed-pipes. He was out of sorts because he shouldn't see the crane dance, and he just couldn't say a word, either to the goosey-gander, or to any of the others.
 
It was pretty hard that Akka should still doubt him. When a boy had given up being human, just to travel around with a few wild geese, they surely ought to understand that he had no desire to betray them. Then, too, they ought to understand that when he had so much to follow them, it was their duty to let him see all the wonders they could show him.
 
"I'll have to speak my mind right out to them," thought he. But hour after hour passed, still he hadn't come round to it. It may sound remarkable—but the boy had actually acquired a kind of respect for the old leader-goose. He felt that it was not easy to pit his will against hers.
 
On one side of the swampy meadow, where the wild geese fed, there was a broad stone hedge. Toward evening when the boy finally raised his head, to speak to Akka, his glance happened to rest on this hedge. He uttered a little cry of surprise, and all the wild geese instantly looked up, and stared in the same direction. At first, both the geese and the boy thought that all the round, gray stones in the hedge had acquired legs, and were starting on a run; but soon they saw that it was a company of rats who ran over it. They moved very rapidly, and ran forward, tightly packed, line upon line, and were so numerous that, for some time, they covered the entire stone hedge.
 
The boy had been afraid of rats, even when he was a big, strong human being. Then what must his feelings be now, when he was so tiny that two or three of them could overpower him? One after another travelled down his column as he stood and stared at them.
 
But strangely enough, the wild geese seemed to feel the same aversion toward the rats that he did. They did not speak to them; and when they were gone, they shook themselves as if their feathers had been mud-spattered.
 
"Such a lot of gray rats abroad!" said Iksi from Vassipaure. "That's not a good ."
 
The boy intended to take advantage of this opportunity to say to Akka that he thought she ought to let him go with them to Kullaberg, but he was prevented anew, for all of a sudden a big bird came down in the midst of the geese.
 
One could believe, when one looked at this bird, that he had borrowed body, neck and head from a little white goose. But in addition to this, he had for himself large black wings, long red legs, and a thick bill, which was too large for the little head, and weighed it down until it gave him a sad and worried look.
 
Akka at once straightened out the folds of her wings, and curtsied many times as she approached the . She wasn't surprised to see him in Skåne so early in the spring, because she knew that the male are in the habit of coming in good season to take a look at the nest, and see that it hasn't been damaged during the winter, before the female storks go to the trouble of flying over the East sea. But she wondered very much what it might signify that he sought her out, since storks prefer to associate with members of their own family.
 
"I can hardly believe that there is anything wrong with your house, Herr
Ermenrich," said Akka.
It was apparent now that it is true what they say: a stork can seldom open his bill without complaining. But what made the thing he said sound even more doleful was that it was difficult for him to speak out. He stood for a long time and only with his bill; he in a and feeble voice. He complained about everything: the nest—which was at the very top of the roof-tree at Glimminge castle—had been totally destroyed by winter storms; and no food could he get any more in Skåne. The people of Skåne were appropriating all his possessions. They dug out his and laid waste his swamps. He intended to move away from this country, and never return to it again.
 
While the stork , Akka, the wild goose who had neither home nor protection, could not help thinking to herself: "If I had things as comfortable as you have, Herr Ermenrich, I should be above complaining. You have remained a free and wild bird; and still you stand so well with human beings that no one will fire a shot at you, or steal an egg from your nest." But all this she kept to herself. To the stork she only remarked, that she couldn't believe he would be willing to move from a house where storks had resided ever since it was built.
 
Then the stork suddenly asked the geese if they had seen the gray rats who were marching toward Glimminge castle. When Akka replied that she had seen the creatures, he began to tell her about the brave black rats who, for years, had defended the castle. "But this night Glimminge castle will fall into the gray rats' power," sighed the stork.
 
"And why just this night, Herr Ermenrich?" asked Akka.
 
"Well, because nearly all the black rats went over to Kullaberg last night," s............