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