Thursday, April twenty-eighth.  
When the wild geese and Thumbietot had helped Osa, the goose girl, and little Mats across the ice, they flew into Westmanland, where they alighted in a grain field to feed and rest.
 
A strong west wind blew almost the entire day on which the wild geese travelled over the mining districts, and as soon as they attempted to direct their course they were toward the east. Now, Akka thought that Smirre Fox was at large in the eastern part of the province; therefore she would not fly in that direction, but turned back, time and again, struggling with great difficulty. At this rate the wild geese advanced very slowly, and late in the afternoon they were still in the Westmanland mining districts. Toward evening the wind suddenly, and the tired travellers hoped that they would have an of easy flight before sundown. Then along came a violent of wind, which tossed the geese before it, like balls, and the boy, who was sitting comfortably, with no thought of , was lifted from the goose's back and into space.
 
Little and light as he was, he could not fall straight to the ground in such a wind; so at first he was carried along with it, drifting down slowly and spasmodically, as a leaf falls from a tree.
 
"Why, this isn't so bad!" thought the boy as he fell. "I'm tumbling as easily as if I were only a of paper. Morten Goosey-Gander will doubtless hurry along and pick me up."
 
The first thing the boy did when he landed was to tear off his cap and wave it, so that the big white gander should see where he was.
 
"Here am I, where are you? Here am I, where are you?" he called, and was rather surprised that Morten Goosey-Gander was not already at his side.
 
But the big white gander was not to be seen, nor was the wild goose flock outlined against the sky. It had disappeared.
 
He thought this rather singular, but he was neither worried nor frightened. Not for a second did it occur to him that folk like Akka and Morten Goosey-Gander would abandon him. The unexpected gust of wind had probably borne them along with it. As soon as they could manage to turn, they would surely come back and fetch him.
 
But what was this? Where on earth was he anyway? He had been gazing toward the sky for some sign of the geese, but now he happened to glance about him. He had not come down on even ground, but had dropped into a deep, wide mountain cave—or whatever it might be. It was as large as a church, with almost walls on all four sides, and with no roof at all. On the ground were some huge rocks, between which and lignon-brush and birches grew. Here and there in the wall were , from which swung rickety ladders. At one side there was a dark passage, which led far into the mountain.
 
The boy had not been travelling over the mining districts a whole day for nothing. He comprehended at once that the big had been made by the men who had mined ore in this place.
 
"I must try and climb back to earth again," he thought, "otherwise I fear that my companions won't find me!"
 
He was about to go over to the wall when some one seized him from behind, and he heard a gruff voice in his ear: "Who are you?"
 
The boy turned quickly, and, in the confusion of the moment, he thought he was facing a huge rock, covered with brownish moss. Then he noticed that the rock had broad paws to walk with, a head, two eyes, and a mouth.
 
He could not pull himself together to answer, nor did the big beast appear to expect it of him, for it knocked him down, rolled him back and with its paws, and nosed him. It seemed just about ready to swallow him, when it changed its mind and called:
 
"Brumme and Mulle, come here, you , and you shall have something good to eat!"
 
A pair of cubs, as uncertain on their feet and as woolly as puppies, came tumbling along.
 
"What have you got, Mamma Bear? May we see, oh, may we see?" the cubs excitedly.
 
"Oho! so I've fallen in with bears," thought the boy to himself. "Now
Smirre Fox won't have to trouble himself further to chase after me!"
The mother bear pushed the boy along to the cubs. One of them nabbed him quickly and ran off with him; but he did not bite hard. He was playful and wanted to amuse himself awhile with Thumbietot before eating him. The other was after the first one to snatch the boy for himself, and as he along he managed to tumble straight down on the head of the one that carried the boy. So the two cubs rolled over each other, biting, clawing, and .
 
During the the boy got loose, ran over to the wall, and started to scale it. Then both cubs after him, and, nimbly scaling the cliff, they caught up with him and tossed him down on the moss, like a ball.
 
"Now I know how a poor little mousie fares when it falls into the cat's claws," thought the boy.
 
He made several attempts to get away. He ran deep down into the old tunnel and hid behind the rocks and climbed the birches, but the cubs hunted him out, go where he would. The instant they caught him they let him go, so that he could run away again and they should have the fun of recapturing him.
 
At last the boy got so sick and tired of it all that he threw himself down on the ground.
 
"Run away," the cubs, "or we'll eat you up!"
 
"You'll have to eat me then," said the boy, "for I can't run any more."
 
Immediately both cubs rushed over to the mother bear and complained:
 
"Mamma Bear, oh, Mamma Bear, he won't play any more."
 
"Then you must divide him evenly between you," said Mother Bear.
 
When the boy heard this he was so scared that he jumped up instantly and began playing again.
 
As it was bedtime, Mother Bear called to the cubs that they must come now and cuddle up to her and go to sleep. They had been having such a good time that they wished to continue their play next day; so they took the boy between them and laid their paws over him. They did not want him to move without waking them. They went to sleep immediately. The boy thought that after a while he would try to steal away. But never in all his life had he been so tumbled and tossed and hunted and rolled! And he was so tired out that he too fell asleep.
 
By and by Father Bear came clambering down the mountain wall. The boy was wakened by his tearing away stone and as he swung himself into the old mine. The boy was afraid to move much; but he managed to stretch himself and turn over, so that he could see the big bear. He was a frightfully coarse, huge old beast, with great paws, large, , and wicked little eyes! The boy could not help as he looked at this old of the forest.
 
"It smells like a human being around here," said Father Bear the instant he came up to Mother Bear, and his growl was as the rolling of thunder.
 
"How can you imagine anything so absurd?" said Mother Bear without disturbing herself. "It has been settled for good and all that we are not to harm mankind any more; but if one of them were to put in an appearance here, where the cubs and I have our quarters, there wouldn't be enough left of him for you to catch even a of him!"
 
Father Bear lay down beside Mother Bear. "You ought to know me well enough to understand that I don't allow anything dangerous to come near the cubs. Talk, instead, of what you have been doing. I haven't seen you for a whole week!"
 
"I've been looking about for a new residence," said Father Bear. "First I went over to Vermland, to learn from our at Ekshärad how they fared in that country; but I had my trouble for nothing. There wasn't a bear's left in the whole forest."
 
"I believe the humans want the whole earth to themselves," said Mother Bear. "Even if we leave people and cattle in peace and live upon lignon and insects and green things, we cannot remain unmolested in the forest! I wonder where we could move to in order to live in peace?"
 
"We've lived comfortably for many years in this pit," observed Father Bear. "But I can't be content here now since the big noise-shop has been built right in our neighbourhood. Lately I have been taking a look at the land east of Dal River, over by Garpen Mountain. Old mine pits are there, too, and other fine retreats. I thought it looked as if one might be fairly protected against men—"
 
The instant Father Bear said this he sat up and began to .
 
"It's extraordinary that whenever I speak of human beings I catch that queer scent again," he remarked.
 
"Go and see for yourself if you don't believe me!" challenged Mother Bear. "I should just like to know where a human being could manage to hide down here?"
 
The bear walked all around the cave, and nosed. Finally he went back and lay down without a word.
 
"What did I tell you?" said Mother Bear. "But of course you think that no one but yourself has any nose or ears!"
 
"One can't be too careful, with such neighbours as we have," said Father Bear gently. Then he leaped up with a roar. As luck would have it, one of the cubs had moved a paw over to Nils Holgersson's face and the poor little could not breathe, but began to sneeze. It was impossible for Mother Bear to keep Father Bear back any longer. He pushed the young ones to right and left and caught sight of the boy before he had time to sit up.
 
He would have swallowed him instantly if Mother Bear had not cast herself between them.
 
"Don't touch him! He belongs to the cubs," she said. "They have had such fun with him the whole evening that they couldn't bear to eat him up, but wanted to save him until morning."
 
Father Bear pushed Mother Bear aside.
 
"Don't with what you don't understand!" he roared. "Can't you scent that human odour about him from afar? I shall eat him at once, or he will play us some mean trick."
 
He opened his again; but meanwhile the boy had had time to think, and, quick as a flash, he dug into his knapsack and brought forth some matches—his sole weapon of defence—struck one on his leather breeches, and stuck the burning match into the bear's open mouth.
 
Father Bear snorted when he smelled the sulphur, and with that the flame went out. The boy was ready with another match, but, enough, Father Bear did not repeat his attack.
 
"Can you light many of those little blue roses?" asked Father Bear.
 
"I can light enough to put an end to the whole forest," replied the boy, for he thought that in this way he might be able to scare Father Bear.
 
"Oh, that would be no trick for me!" boasted the boy, hoping that this would make the bear respect him.
 
"Good!" exclaimed the bear. "You shall render me a service. Now I'm very glad that I did not eat you!"
 
Father Bear carefully took the boy between his tusks and climbed up from the pit. He did this with ease and , considering that he was so big and heavy. As soon as he was up, he speedily made for the woods. It was evident that Father Bear was created to squeeze through forests. The heavy body pushed through the brushwood as a boat does through the water.
 
Father Bear ran along till he came to a hill at the skirt of the forest, where he could see the big noise-shop. Here he lay down and placed the boy in front of him, holding him securely between his forepaws.
 
"Now look down at that big noise-shop!" he commanded. The great ironworks, with many tall buildings, stood at the edge of a waterfall. High chimneys sent forth dark clouds of smoke, blasting furnaces were in full blaze, and light shone from all the windows and . Within hammers and rolling mills were going with such force that the air rang with their and boom. All around the workshops proper were immense coal sheds, great heaps, , wood piles, and tool sheds. Just beyond were long rows of workingmen's homes, pretty , schoolhouses, assembly halls, and shops. But there all was quiet and apparently everybody was asleep. The boy did not glance in that direction, but gazed intently at the ironworks. The earth around them was black; the sky above them was like a great ; the rapids, white with , rushed by; while the buildings themselves were sending out light and smoke, fire and sparks. It was the grandest sight the boy had ever seen!
 
"Surely you don't mean to say you can set fire to a place like that?" remarked the bear doubtingly.
 
The boy stood wedged between the beast's paws thinking the only thing that might save him would be that the bear should have a high opinion of his and power.
 
"It's all the same to me," he answered with a superior air. "Big or little, I can burn it down."
 
"Then I'll tell you something," said Father Bear. "My lived in this region from the time that the forests first sprang up. From them I inherited hunting grounds and pastures, and retreats, and have lived here in peace all my life. In the beginning I wasn't troubled ............