The white goosey-gander had the good fortune to spy a perch.  He grabbed it quickly, swam ashore with it, and laid it down in front of the boy.  “Here’s a thank you for helping me into the water,” said he.

It was the first time the boy had heard a friendly word that day.  He was so happy that he wanted to throw his arms around the goosey-gander’s neck, but he refrained; and he was also thankful for the gift.  At first he must have thought that it would be impossible to eat raw fish, and then he had a notion to try it.

He felt to see if he still had his sheath-knife with him; and, sure enough, there it hung—­on the back button of his trousers, although it was so diminished that it was hardly as long as a match.  Well, at any rate, it served to scale and cleanse fish with; and it wasn’t long before the perch was eaten.

When the boy had satisfied his hunger, he felt a little ashamed because he had been able to eat a raw thing.  “It’s evident that I’m not a human being any longer, but a real elf,” thought he.

While the boy ate, the goosey-gander stood silently beside him.  But when he had swallowed the last bite, he said in a low voice:  “It’s a fact that we have run across a stuck-up goose folk who despise all tame birds.”

“Yes, I’ve observed that,” said the boy.

“What a triumph it would be for me if I could follow them clear up to Lapland, and show them that even a tame goose can do things!”

“Y-e-e-s,” said the boy, and drawled it out because he didn’t believe the goosey-gander could ever do it; yet he didn’t wish to contradict him.  “But I don’t think I can get along all alone on such a journey,” said the goosey-gander.  “I’d like to ask if you couldn’t come along and help me?” The boy, of course, hadn’t expected anything but to return to his home as soon as possible, and he was so surprised that he hardly knew what he should reply.  “I thought that we were enemies, you and I,” said he.  But this the goosey-gander seemed to have forgotten entirely.  He only remembered that the boy had but just saved his life.

“I suppose I really ought to go home to father and mother,” said the boy.  “Oh!  I’ll get you back to them some time in the fall,” said the goosey-gander.  “I shall not leave you until I put you down on your own doorstep.”

The boy thought it might be just as well for him if he escaped showing himself before his parents for a while.  He was not disinclined to favour the scheme, and was just on the point of saying that he agreed to it—­when they heard a loud rumbling behind them.  It was the wild geese who had come up from the lake—­all at one time—­and stood shaking the water from their backs.  After that they arranged themselves in a long row—­with the leader-goose in the centre—­and came toward them.