e possible that there is something in what you say," said the
young one; "for on summer nights, when the heavens widen and open over
the island, I have sometimes thought that it was as if it wanted to
raise itself from the sea, and fly away."

But when the old one had finally gotten the young one to talk, he didn't
listen to him very much. "I would like to know," the old one said in a
low tone, "if anyone can explain why one feels such a longing up here on
Alvaret. I have felt it every day of my life; and I think it preys upon
each and every one who must go about here. I want to know if no one else
has understood that all this wistfulness is caused by the fact that the
whole island is a butterfly that longs for its wings."

LITTLE KARL'S ISLAND

THE STORM

_Friday, April eighth_.

The wild geese had spent the night on Oeland's northern point, and were
now on their way to the continent. A strong south wind blew over Kalmar
Sound, and they had been thrown northward. Still they worked their way
toward land with good speed. But when they were nearing the first
islands a powerful rumbling was heard, as if a lot of strong-winged
birds had come flying; and the water under them, all at once, became
perfectly black. Akka drew in her wings so suddenly that she almost
stood still in the air. Thereupon, she lowered herself to light on the
edge of the sea. But before the geese had reached the water, the west
storm caught up with them. Already, it drove before it fogs, salt scum
and small birds; it also snatched with it the wild geese, threw them on
end, and cast them toward the sea.

It was a rough storm. The wild geese tried to turn back, time and again,
but they couldn't do it and were driven out toward the East sea. The
storm had already blown them past Oeland, and the sea lay before
them--empty and desolate. There was nothing for them to do but to keep
out of the water.

When Akka observed that they were unable to turn back she thought that
it was needless to let the storm drive them over the entire East sea.
Therefore she sank down to the water. Now the sea was raging, and
increased in violence with every second. The sea-green billows rolled
forward, with seething foam on their crests. Each one surged higher than
the other. It was as though they raced with each other, to see which
could foam the wildest. But the wild geese were not afraid of the
swells. On the contrary, this seemed to afford them much pleasure. They