Now he lay still in an immeasurable height, and floated in the
air without moving his wings, now he flung himself downward with such
sudden haste that it seemed as though he would fall to the ground,
helpless as a stone; now he had lots of fun flying all around Akka, in
great and small circles, like a whirlwind. The boy had never been on a
ride of this sort before; and although he sat there all the while in
terror, he had to acknowledge to himself that he had never before known
what a good flight meant.
Only a single pause was made during the journey, and that was at Vomb
Lake when Akka joined her travelling companions, and called to them that
the gray rats had been vanquished. After that, the travellers flew
straight to Kullaberg.
There they descended to the knoll reserved for the wild geese; and as
the boy let his glance wander from knoll to knoll, he saw on one of them
the many-pointed antlers of the stags; and on another, the gray herons'
neck-crests. One knoll was red with foxes, one was gray with rats; one
was covered with black ravens who shrieked continually, one with larks
who simply couldn't keep still, but kept on throwing themselves in the
air and singing for very joy.
Just as it has ever been the custom on Kullaberg, it was the crows who
began the day's games and frolics with their flying-dance.
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