Two years before Nils Holgersson travelled with the wild geese the old leader-goose, Akka from Kebnekaise, was standing at the foot of the mountain slope looking toward the eagle’s nest.

The eagles were in the habit of starting on their chase soon after sunrise; during the summers that Akka had lived in the glen she had watched every morning for their departure to find if they stopped in the glen to hunt, or if they flew beyond it to other hunting grounds.

She did not have to wait long before the two eagles left the ledge on the cliff.  Stately and terror-striking they soared into the air.  They directed their course toward the plain, and Akka breathed a sigh of relief.

The old leader-goose’s days of nesting and rearing of young were over, and during the summer she passed the time going from one goose range to another, giving counsel regarding the brooding and care of the young.  Aside from this she kept an eye out not only for eagles but also for mountain fox and owls and all other enemies who were a menace to the wild geese and their young.

About noontime Akka began to watch for the eagles again.  This she had done every day during all the summers that she had lived in the glen.  She could tell at once by their flight if their hunt had been successful, and in that event she felt relieved for the safety of those who belonged to her.  But on this particular day she had not seen the eagles return.  “I must be getting old and stupid,” she thought, when she had waited a time for them.  “The eagles have probably been home this long while.”

In the afternoon she looked toward the cliff again, expecting to see the eagles perched on the rocky ledge where they usually took their afternoon rest; toward evening, when they took their bath in the dale lake, she tried again to get sight of them, but failed.  Again she bemoaned the fact that she was growing old.  She was so accustomed to having the eagles on the mountain above her that she could not imagine the possibility of their not having returned.

The following morning Akka was awake in good season to watch for the eagles; but she did not see them.  On the other hand, she heard in the morning stillness a cry that sounded both angry and plaintive, and it seemed to come from the eagles’ nest.  “Can there possibly be anything amiss with the eagles?” she wondered.  She spread her wings quickly, and rose so high that she could perfectly well look down into the nest.

There she saw neither of the eagles.  There was no one in the nest save a little half-fledged eaglet who was screaming for food.

Akka sank down toward the eagles’ nest, slowly and reluctantly.  It was a gruesome place to come to!  It was plain what kind of robber folk lived there!  In the nest and on the cliff ledge lay bleached bones, bloody feathers, pieces of skin, hares’ heads, birds’ beaks, and the tufted claws of grouse.  The eaglet, who was lying in the midst of this, was repulsive to look upon, with his big, gaping bill, his awkward, down-clad body, and his undeveloped wings where the prospective quills stuck out like thorns.