"We're
so hungry, we can't fly any more!"
"Wild geese must learn to eat air and drink wind," said the
leader-goose, and kept right on flying.
It actually seemed as if the young ones were learning to live on wind
and air, for when they had flown a little longer, they said nothing more
about being hungry.
The goose flock was still in the mountain regions, and the old geese
called out the names of all the peaks as they flew past, so that the
youngsters might learn them. When they had been calling out a while:
"This is Porsotjokko, this is Saerjaktjokko, this is Sulitelma," and so
on, the goslings became impatient again.
"Akka, Akka, Akka!" they shrieked in heart-rending tones.
"What's wrong?" said the leader-goose.
"We haven't room in our heads for any more of those awful names!"
shrieked the goslings.
"The more you put into your heads the more you can get into them,"
retorted the leader-goose, and continued to call out the queer names.
The boy sat thinking that it was about time the wild geese betook
themselves southward, for so much snow had fallen that the ground was
white as far as the eye could see. There was no use denying that it had
been rather disagreeable in the glen toward the last. Rain and fog had
succeeded each other without any relief, and even if it did clear up
once in a while, immediately frost set in.
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