But she flung herself quickly to one side and saved her life.
Before Smirre got through panting, three more geese came flying in a
row. They flew just like the rest, and Smirre made high springs for them
all, but he did not succeed in catching any one of them.
After that came five geese; but these flew better than the others. And
although it seemed as if they wanted to lure Smirre to jump, he
withstood the temptation. After quite a long time came one single goose.
It was the thirteenth. This one was so old that she was gray all over,
without a dark speck anywhere on her body. She didn't appear to use one
wing very well, but flew so wretchedly and crookedly, that she almost
touched the ground. Smirre not only made a high leap for her, but he
pursued her, running and jumping all the way down to the lake. But not
even this time did he get anything for his trouble.
When the fourteenth goose came along, it looked very pretty because it
was white. And as its great wings swayed, it glistened like a light, in
the dark forest. When Smirre Fox saw this one, he mustered all his
resources and jumped half-way up to the tree-canopy. But the white one
flew by unhurt like the rest.
Now it was quiet for a moment under the beeches. It looked as if the
whole wild-goose-flock had travelled past.
Suddenly Smirre remembered his prisoner and raised his eyes toward the
young beech-tree.
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