The goosey-gander certainly tried to follow the advice, and increase his speed; but then he became so exhausted that he sank away down to the drooping willows that bordered the fields and meadows.

“Akka, Akka, Akka from Kebnekaise!” cried those who flew last and saw what a hard time he was having.  “What do you want now?” asked the leader—­and she sounded awfully angry.  “The white one sinks to the earth; the white one sinks to the earth.”  “Tell him it’s easier to fly high than low!” shouted the leader, and she didn’t slow up the least little bit, but raced on as before.

The goosey-gander tried also to follow this advice; but when he wanted to raise himself, he became so winded that he almost burst his breast.

“Akka, Akka!” again cried those who flew last.  “Can’t you let me fly in peace?” asked the leader, and she sounded even madder than before.

“The white one is ready to collapse.”  “Tell him that he who has not the strength to fly with the flock, can go back home!” cried the leader.  She certainly had no idea of decreasing her speed—­but raced on as before.

“Oh! is that the way the wind blows,” thought the goosey-gander.  He understood at once that the wild geese had never intended to take him along up to Lapland.  They had only lured him away from home in sport.

He felt thoroughly exasperated.  To think that his strength should fail him now, so he wouldn’t be able to show these tramps that even a tame goose was good for something!  But the most provoking thing of all was that he had fallen in with Akka from Kebnekaise.  Tame goose that he was, he had heard about a leader goose, named Akka, who was more than a hundred years old.  She had such a big name that the best wild geese in the world followed her.  But no one had such a contempt for tame geese as Akka and her flock, and gladly would he have shown them that he was their equal.

He flew slowly behind the rest, while he deliberated whether he should turn back or continue.  Finally, the little creature that he carried on his back said:  “Dear Morten Goosey-gander, you know well enough that it is simply impossible for you, who have never flown, to go with the wild geese all the way up to Lapland.  Won’t you turn back before you kill yourself?”

But the farmer’s lad was about the worst thing the goosey-gander knew anything about, and as soon as it dawned on him that this puny creature actually believed that he couldn’t make the trip, he decided to stick it out.  “If you say another word about this, I’ll drop you into the first ditch we ride over!” said he, and at the same time his fury gave him so much strength that he began to fly almost as well as any of the others.

It isn’t likely that he could have kept this pace up very long, neither was it necessary; for, just then, the sun sank quickly; and at sunset the geese flew down, and before the boy and the goosey-gander knew what had happened, they stood on the shores of Vomb Lake.