You
can't catch up with a goose even." He teased them so that they became
crazed with rage and thought only of rushing forward.
The white one ran right straight to the big cleft. When he was there, he
made one stroke with his wings, and got over. Just then the foxes were
almost upon him.
The goosey-gander hurried on with the same haste as before, even after
he had gotten across Hell's Hole. But he had hardly been running two
metres before the boy patted him on the neck, and said: "Now you can
stop, goosey-gander."
At that instant they heard a number of wild howls behind them, and a
scraping of claws, and heavy falls. But of the foxes they saw nothing
more.
The next morning the lighthouse keeper on Great Karl's Island found a
bit of bark poked under the entrance-door, and on it had been cut, in
slanting, angular letters: "The foxes on the little island have fallen
down into Hell's Hole. Take care of them!"
And this the lighthouse keeper did, too.
TWO CITIES
THE CITY AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA
_Saturday, April ninth_.
It was a calm and clear night. The wild geese did not trouble themselves
to seek shelter in any of the grottoes, but stood and slept upon the
mountain top; and the boy had lain down in the short, dry grass beside
the geese.
It was bright moonlight that night; so bright that it was difficult for
the boy to go to sleep.
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