y if you tear Thumbietot in pieces before he has gotten that
silver money for us?" "It has to be you, Fumle-Drumle, that's afraid of
women-folk," said Rush. But, at any rate, both he and the others left
Thumbietot in peace.

Shortly after that the crows went further. Until now the boy thought
that Smaland wasn't such a poor country as he had heard. Of course it
was woody and full of mountain-ridges, but alongside the islands and
lakes lay cultivated grounds, and any real desolation he hadn't come
upon. But the farther inland they came, the fewer were the villages and
cottages. Toward the last, he thought that he was riding over a
veritable wilderness where he saw nothing but swamps and heaths and
juniper-hills.

The sun had gone down, but it was still perfect daylight when the crows
reached the large heather-heath. Wind-Rush sent a crow on ahead, to say
that he had met with success; and when it was known, Wind-Air, with
several hundred crows from Crow-Ridge, flew to meet the arrivals. In the
midst of the deafening cawing which the crows emitted, Fumle-Drumle said
to the boy: "You have been so comical and so jolly during the trip that
I am really fond of you. Therefore I want to give you some good advice.
As soon as we light, you'll be requested to do a bit of work which may
seem very easy to you; but beware of doing it!"

Soon thereafter Fumle-Drumle put Nils Holgersson down in the bottom of
a sandpit. The boy flung himself down, rolled over, and lay there as
though he was simply done up with fatigue. Such a lot of crows fluttered
about him that the air rustled like a wind-storm, but he didn't look up.

"Thumbietot," said Wind-Rush, "get up now! You shall help us with a
matter which will be very easy for you."

The boy didn't move, but pretended to be asleep. Then Wind-Rush took him
by the arm, and dragged him over the sand to an earthen crock of
old-time make, that was standing in the pit. "Get up, Thumbietot," said
he, "and open this crock!" "Why can't you let me sleep?" said the boy.
"I'm too tired to do anything to-night. Wait until to-morrow!"

"Open the crock!" said Wind-Rush, shaking him. "How shall a poor little
child be able to open such a crock? Why, it's quite as large as I am
myself." "Open it!" commanded Wind-Rush once more, "or it will be a
sorry thing for you." The boy got up, tottered over to the crock,
fumbled the clasp, and let his arms fall. "I'm not usually so weak,"
said he. "If you will only