sharp pine-branches lay snow that had been melting and freezing, melting
and freezing, until it was hard as ice.

The boy thought he had struck an arctic wilderness, and he was so
miserable that he wanted to scream. He was hungry too. He hadn't eaten a
bite the whole day. But where should he find any food? Nothing eatable
grew on either ground or tree in the month of March.

Yes, where was he to find food, and who would give him shelter, and who
would fix his bed, and who would protect him from the wild beasts?

For now the sun was away and frost came from the lake, and darkness sank
down from heaven, and terror stole forward on the twilight's trail, and
in the forest it began to patter and rustle.

Now the good humour which the boy had felt when he was up in the air,
was gone, and in his misery he looked around for his travelling
companions. He had no one but them to cling to now.

Then he saw that the goosey-gander was having even a worse time of it
than he. He was lying prostrate on the spot where he had alighted; and
it looked as if he were ready to die. His neck lay flat against the
ground, his eyes were closed, and his breathing sounded like a feeble
hissing.

"Dear Morten Goosey-Gander," said the boy, "try to get a swallow of
water! It isn't two steps to the lake."

But the goosey-gander didn't stir.