She waited until the boy had found his
wooden shoes, which the stork had shaken off; then she put him on her
back and followed the stork. On his own account, the boy made no
objection, and said not a word about not wanting to go along. He had
become so furious with the stork, that he actually sat and puffed. That
long, red-legged thing believed he was of no account just because he was
little; but he would show him what kind of a man Nils Holgersson from
West Vemminghoeg was.
A couple of moments later Akka stood in the storks' nest. It had a wheel
for foundation, and over this lay several grass-mats, and some twigs.
The nest was so old that many shrubs and plants had taken root up there;
and when the mother stork sat on her eggs in the round hole in the
middle of the nest, she not only had the beautiful outlook over a goodly
portion of Skane to enjoy, but she had also the wild brier-blossoms and
house-leeks to look upon.
Both Akka and the boy saw immediately that something was going on here
which turned upside down the most regular order. On the edge of the
stork-nest sat two gray owls, an old, gray-streaked cat, and a dozen
old, decrepit rats with protruding teeth and watery eyes. They were not
exactly the sort of animals one usually finds living peaceably together.
Not one of them turned around to look at Akka, or to bid her welcome.
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