"Don't be
in such a rush!" cried the ducks. "You'll eat up all the food before we
get there." "Oh! there'll be enough for both you and us," answered the
loons.
Before they had gotten so far that they saw Oeland, there came a light
wind against them. It brought with it something that resembled immense
clouds of white smoke--just as if there was a big fire somewhere.
When the birds saw the first white spiral haze, they became uneasy and
increased their speed. But that which resembled smoke blew thicker and
thicker, and at last it enveloped them altogether. They smelled no
smoke; and the smoke was not dark and dry, but white and damp. Suddenly
the boy understood that it was nothing but a mist.
When the mist became so thick that one couldn't see a goose-length
ahead, the birds began to carry on like real lunatics. All these, who
before had travelled forward in such perfect order, began to play in the
mist. They flew hither and thither, to entice one another astray. "Be
careful!" they cried. "You're only travelling round and round. Turn
back, for pity's sake! You'll never get to Oeland in this way."
They all knew perfectly well where the island was, but they did their
best to lead each other astray. "Look at those wagtails!" rang out in
the mist. "They are going back toward the North Sea!" "Have a care, wild
geese!" shrieked someone from another direction.
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