n I don't dare to stand here and wait for you," said Akka. "You had
better meet us at Smygahoek early to-morrow morning, so that you may stay
at home over night."

"Oh, don't go yet, Mother Akka!" begged the boy, jumping from the hedge.

He could not tell just why it was, but he felt as if something would
happen, either to the wild goose or to himself, to prevent their future
meeting.

"No doubt you see that I'm distressed because I cannot get back my
right form; but I want to say to you that I don't regret having gone
with you last spring," he added. "I would rather forfeit the chance of
ever being human again than to have missed that trip."

Akka breathed quickly before she answered.

"There's a little matter I should have mentioned to you before this, but
since you are not going back to your home for good, I thought there was
no hurry about it. Still it may as well be said now."

"You know very well that I am always glad to do your bidding," said the
boy.

"If you have learned anything at all from us, Thumbietot, you no longer
think that the humans should have the whole earth to themselves," said
the wild goose, solemnly. "Remember you have a large country and you can
easily afford to leave a few bare rocks, a few shallow lakes and swamps,
a few desolate cliffs and remote forests to us poor, dumb creatures,
where we can be allowed to live in peace. All my days I have been
hounded and hunted. It would be a comfort to know that there is a refuge
somewhere for one like me."

"Indeed, I should be glad to help if I could," said the boy, "but it's
not likely that I shall ever again have any influence among human
beings."

"Well, we're standing here talking as if we were never to meet again,"
said Akka, "but we shall see each other to-morrow, of course. Now I'll
return to my flock."

She spread her wings and started to fly, but came back and stroked
Thumbietot up and down with her bill before she flew away.

It was broad daylight, but no human being moved on the farm and the boy
could go where he pleased. He hastened to the cow shed, because he knew
that he could get the best information from the cows.

It looked rather barren in their shed. In the spring there had been
three fine cows there, but now there was only one--Mayrose. It was quite
apparent that she yearned for her comrades. Her head drooped sadly, and
she had hardly touched the feed in her crib.

"Good day, Mayrose!" said the boy, running fearless