They only had to travel
direct south until they came to a large bird-track, which extended all
along the Blekinge coast. All the birds who had winter residences by the
West sea, and who now intended to travel to Finland and Russia, flew
forward there--and, in passing, they were always in the habit of
stopping at Oeland to rest. The wild geese would have no trouble in
finding guides.
That day it was perfectly still and warm--like a summer's day--the best
weather in the world for a sea trip. The only grave thing about it was
that it was not quite clear, for the sky was gray and veiled. Here and
there were enormous mist-clouds which hung way down to the sea's outer
edge, and obstructed the view.
When the travellers had gotten away from the wooded island, the sea
spread itself so smooth and mirror-like, that the boy as he looked down
thought the water had disappeared. There was no longer any earth under
him. He had nothing but mist and sky around him. He grew very dizzy, and
held himself tight on the goose-back, more frightened than when he sat
there for the first time. It seemed as though he couldn't possibly hold
on; he must fall in some direction.
It was even worse when they reached the big bird-track, of which the
gray goose had spoken. Actually, there came flock after flock flying in
exactly the same direction.
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