Without a second’s hesitation the eaglet stepped upon the edge of the nest.  Barely taking the trouble to measure the distance to the bottom, he spread his tiny wings and started away.  He rolled over and over in space, but nevertheless made enough use of his wings to reach the ground almost unhurt.

Down there in the glen Gorgo passed the summer in company with the little goslings, and was a good comrade for them.  Since he regarded himself as a gosling, he tried to live as they lived; when they swam in the lake he followed them until he came near drowning.  It was most embarrassing to him that he could not learn to swim, and he went to Akka and complained of his inability.

“Why can’t I swim like the others?” he asked.

“Your claws grew too hooked, and your toes too large while you were up there on the cliff,” Akka replied.  “But you’ll make a fine bird all the same.”

The eaglet’s wings soon grew so large that they could carry him; but not until autumn, when the goslings learned to fly, did it dawn upon him that he could use them for flight.  There came a proud time for him, for at this sport he was the peer of them all.  His companions never stayed up in the air any longer than they had to, but he stayed there nearly the whole day, and practised the art of flying.  So far it had not occurred to him that he was of another species than the geese, but he could not help noting a number of things that surprised him, and he questioned Akka constantly.

“Why do grouse and lemming run and hide when they see my shadow on the cliff?” he queried.  “They don’t show such fear of the other goslings.”

“Your wings grew too big when you were on the cliff,” said Akka.  “It is that which frightens the little wretches.  But don’t be unhappy because of that.  You’ll be a fine bird all the same.”

After the eagle had learned to fly, he taught himself to fish, and to catch frogs.  But by and by he began to ponder this also.

“How does it happen that I live on fish and frogs?” he asked.  “The other goslings don’t.”

“This is due to the fact that I had no other food to give you when you were on the cliff,” said Akka.  “But don’t let that make you sad.  You’ll be a fine bird all the same.”

When the wild geese began their autumn moving, Gorgo flew along with the flock, regarding himself all the while as one of them.  The air was filled with birds who were on their way south, and there was great excitement among them when Akka appeared with an eagle in her train.  The wild goose flock was continually surrounded by swarms of the curious who loudly expressed their astonishment.  Akka bade them be silent, but it was impossible to stop so many wagging tongues.

“Why do they call me an eagle?” Gorgo asked repeatedly, growing more and more exasperated.  “Can’t they see that I’m a wild goose?  I’m no bird-eater who preys upon his kind.  How dare they give me such an ugly name?”