He was immediately surrounded by a crowd of foxes, and doomed in accordance with an old custom, which demands that whosoever disturbs the peace on the great play-day, must go into exile.  Not a fox wished to lighten the sentence, since they all knew that the instant they attempted anything of the sort, they would be driven from the playground, and would nevermore be permitted to enter it.  Banishment was pronounced upon Smirre without opposition.  He was forbidden to remain in Skane.  He was banished from wife and kindred; from hunting grounds, home, resting places and retreats, which he had hitherto owned; and he must tempt fortune in foreign lands.  So that all foxes in Skane should know that Smirre was outlawed in the district, the oldest of the foxes bit off his right earlap.  As soon as this was done, all the young foxes began to yowl from blood-thirst, and threw themselves on Smirre.  For him there was no alternative except to take flight; and with all the young foxes in hot pursuit, he rushed away from Kullaberg.

All this happened while black grouse and brown grouse were going on with their games.  But these birds lose themselves so completely in their song, that they neither hear nor see.  Nor had they permitted themselves to be disturbed.

The forest birds’ contest was barely over, before the stags from Haeckeberga came forward to show their wrestling game.  There were several pairs of stags who fought at the same time.  They rushed at each other with tremendous force, struck their antlers dashingly together, so that their points were entangled; and tried to force each other backward.  The heather-heaths were torn up beneath their hoofs; the breath came like smoke from their nostrils; out of their throats strained hideous bellowings, and the froth oozed down on their shoulders.

On the knolls round about there was breathless silence while the skilled stag-wrestlers clinched.  In all the animals new emotions were awakened.  Each and all felt courageous and, strong; enlivened by returning powers; born again with the spring; sprightly, and ready for all kinds of adventures.  They felt no enmity toward each other, although, everywhere, wings were lifted, neck-feathers raised and claws sharpened.  If the stags from Haeckeberga had continued another instant, a wild struggle would have arisen on the knolls, for all had been gripped with a burning desire to show that they too were full of life because the winter’s impotence was over and strength surged through their bodies.

But the stags stopped wrestling just at the right moment, and instantly a whisper went from knoll to knoll:  “The cranes are coming!”