When the wild geese and Nils Holgersson had finally found their way to Oeland, they came down, like all the rest, on the shore near the sheep meadow.  The mist lay thick over the island, just as it had over the sea.  But still the boy was amazed at all the birds which he discerned, only on the little narrow stretch of shore which he could see.

It was a low sand-shore with stones and pools, and a lot of cast-up sea-weed.  If the boy had been permitted to choose, it isn’t likely that he would have thought of alighting there; but the birds probably looked upon this as a veritable paradise.  Ducks and geese walked about and fed on the meadow; nearer the water, ran snipe, and other coast-birds.  The loons lay in the sea and fished, but the life and movement was upon the long sea-weed banks along the coast.  There the birds stood side by side close together and picked grub-worms—­which must have been found there in limitless quantities for it was very evident that there was never any complaint over a lack of food.

The great majority were going to travel farther, and had only alighted to take a short rest; and as soon as the leader of a flock thought that his comrades had recovered themselves sufficiently he said, “If you are ready now, we may as well move on.”

“No, wait, wait!  We haven’t had anything like enough,” said the followers.

“You surely don’t believe that I intend to let you eat so much that you will not be able to move?” said the leader, and flapped his wings and started off.  Along the outermost sea-weed banks lay a flock of swans.  They didn’t bother about going on land, but rested themselves by lying and rocking on the water.  Now and then they dived down with their necks and brought up food from the sea-bottom.  When they had gotten hold of anything very good, they indulged in loud shouts that sounded like trumpet calls.

When the boy heard that there were swans on the shoals, he hurried out to the sea-weed banks.  He had never before seen wild swans at close range.  He had luck on his side, so that he got close up to them.

The boy was not the only one who had heard the swans.  Both the wild geese and the gray geese and the loons swam out between the banks, laid themselves in a ring around the swans and stared at them.  The swans ruffled their feathers, raised their wings like sails, and lifted their necks high in the air.  Occasionally one and another of them swam up to a goose, or a great loon, or a diving-duck, and said a few words.  And then it appeared as though the one addressed hardly dared raise his bill to reply.

But then there was a little loon—­a tiny mischievous baggage—­who couldn’t stand all this ceremony.  He dived suddenly, and disappeared under the water’s edge.  Soon after that, one of the swans let out a scream, and swam off so quickly that the water foamed.  Then he stopped and began to look majestic once more.  But soon, another one shrieked in the same way as the first one, and then a third.