something to eat. But he needed so little nowadays; and there would
always be a way to get that.

So he pictured the whole scene to himself; what he should see, and all
the adventures that he would be in on. Yes, it would be something
different from the wear and tear at home. "If I could only go with the
wild geese on their travels, I shouldn't grieve because I'd been
transformed," thought the boy.

He wasn't afraid of anything--except being sent home; but not even on
Wednesday did the geese say anything to him about going. That day passed
in the same way as Tuesday; and the boy grew more and more contented
with the outdoor life. He thought that he had the lovely Övid Cloister
park--which was as large as a forest--all to himself; and he wasn't
anxious to go back to the stuffy cabin and the little patch of ground
there at home.

On Wednesday he believed that the wild geese thought of keeping him with
them; but on Thursday he lost hope again.

Thursday began just like the other days; the geese fed on the broad
meadows, and the boy hunted for food in the park. After a while Akka
came to him, and asked if he had found anything to eat. No, he had not;
and then she looked up a dry caraway herb, that had kept all its tiny
seeds intact.

When the boy had eaten, Akka said that she thought he ran around in the
park altogether too recklessly. She wondered if he knew how many enemies
he had to guard against--he, who was so little. No, he didn't know
anything at all about that. Then Akka began to enumerate them for him.