Lake Maelar is unique in its way, being made up of a succession of narrow
fiords, bays, and inlets. In no place does it spread into a storm
centre, but seems to have been created only for pleasure trips, yachting
tours, and fishing. Nowhere does it present barren, desolate, wind-swept
shores. It looks as if it never thought that its shores could hold
anything but country seats, summer villas, manors, and amusement
resorts. But, because it usually presents a very agreeable and friendly
appearance, there is all the more havoc whenever it happens to drop its
smiling expression in the spring, and show that it can be serious.
At that critical time Smirre Fox happened to come sneaking through a
birch grove just north of Lake Maelar. As usual, he was thinking of
Thumbietot and the wild geese, and wondering how he should ever find
them again. He had lost all track of them.
As he stole cautiously along, more discouraged than usual, he caught
sight of Agar, the carrier-pigeon, who had perched herself on a birch
branch.
"My, but I'm in luck to run across you, Agar!" exclaimed Smirre. "Maybe
you can tell me where Akka from Kebnekaise and her flock hold forth
nowadays?"
"It's quite possible that I know where they are," Agar hinted, "but I'm
not likely to tell you!"
"Please yourself!" retorted Smirre.
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