The other wild
geese crowded round him and stroked him with their bills. They cackled
and chattered and wished him all kinds of good luck, and he, too, talked
to them and thanked them for the wonderful journey which he had been
privileged to make in their company.
All at once the wild geese became strangely quiet and withdrew from him,
as if to say:
"Alas! he is a man. He does not understand us: we do not understand
him!"
Then the boy rose and went over to Akka; he stroked her and patted her.
He did the same to Yksi and Kaksi, Kolme and Neljae, Viisi and Kuusi--the
old birds who had been his companions from the very start.
After that he walked farther up the strand. He knew perfectly well that
the sorrows of the birds do not last long, and he wanted to part with
them while they were still sad at losing him.
As he crossed the shore meadows he turned and watched the many flocks of
birds that were flying over the sea. All were shrieking their coaxing
calls--only one goose flock flew silently on as long as he could follow
it with his eyes. The wedge was perfect, the speed good, and the wing
strokes strong and certain.
The boy felt such a yearning for his departing comrades that he almost
wished he were Thumbietot again and could travel over land and sea with
a flock of wild geese.
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