“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the earth beneath us as lovely as it is to-day!” he finally remarked.  “The lakes are like blue satin bands.  Don’t you think it would be a pity to settle down in West Vemminghoeg and never see any more of the world?”

“I thought you wanted to go home to your mother and father and show them what a splendid boy you had become?” said the goosey-gander.

All summer he had been dreaming of what a proud moment it would be for him when he should alight in the house yard before Holger Nilsson’s cabin and show Dunfin and the six goslings to the geese and chickens, the cows and the cat, and to Mother Holger Nilsson herself, so that he was not very happy over the boy’s proposal.

“Now, Morten Goosey-Gander, don’t you think yourself that it would be hard never to see anything more that is beautiful!” said the boy.

“I would rather see the fat grain fields of Soederslaett than these lean hills,” answered the goosey-gander.  “But you must know very well that if you really wish to continue the trip, I can’t be parted from you.”

“That is just the answer I had expected from you,” said the boy, and his voice betrayed that he was relieved of a great anxiety.

Later, when they travelled over Bohuslaen, the boy observed that the mountain stretches were more continuous, the valleys were more like little ravines blasted in the rock foundation, while the long lakes at their base were as black as if they had come from the underworld.  This, too, was a glorious country, and as the boy saw it, with now a strip of sun, now a shadow, he thought that there was something strange and wild about it.  He knew not why, but the idea came to him that once upon a time there were many strong and brave heroes in these mystical regions who had passed through many dangerous and daring adventures.  The old passion of wanting to share in all sorts of wonderful adventures awoke in him.

“I might possibly miss not being in danger of my life at least once every day or two,” he thought.  “Anyhow it’s best to be content with things as they are.”

He did not speak of this idea to the big white gander, because the geese were now flying over Bohuslaen with all the speed they could muster, and the goosey-gander was puffing so hard that he would not have had the strength to reply.

The sun was far down on the horizon, and disappeared every now and then behind a hill; still the geese kept forging ahead.

Finally, in the west, they saw a shining strip of light, which grew broader and broader with every wing stroke.  Soon the sea spread before them, milk white with a shimmer of rose red and sky blue, and when they had circled past the coast cliffs they saw the sun again, as it hung over the sea, big and red and ready to plunge into the waves.

As the boy gazed at the broad, endless sea and the red evening sun, which had such a kindly glow that he dared to look straight at it, he felt a sense of peace and calm penetrate his soul.