Now the good humour which the boy had felt when he was up in the air,
was gone, and in his misery he looked around for his travelling
companions. He had no one but them to cling to now.
Then he saw that the goosey-gander was having even a worse time of it
than he. He was lying prostrate on the spot where he had alighted; and
it looked as if he were ready to die. His neck lay flat against the
ground, his eyes were closed, and his breathing sounded like a feeble
hissing.
"Dear Morten Goosey-Gander," said the boy, "try to get a swallow of
water! It isn't two steps to the lake."
But the goosey-gander didn't stir.
The boy had certainly been cruel to all animals, and to the
goosey-gander in times gone by; but now he felt that the goosey-gander
was the only comfort he had left, and he was dreadfully afraid of losing
him.
At once the boy began to push and drag him, to get him into the water,
but the goosey-gander was big and heavy, and it was mighty hard work for
the boy; but at last he succeeded.
The goosey-gander got in head first. For an instant he lay motionless in
the slime, but soon he poked up his head, shook the water from his eyes
and sniffed. Then he swam, proudly, between reeds and seaweed.
The wild geese were in the lake before him. They had not looked around
for either the goosey-gander or for his rider, but had made straight
for the water.
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