The goose had told her family, on their way from the North Pole or somewhere in that region, that she knew of a spot on their way where they would do well to alight and rest awhile. They had no reason to be in the least afraid. She knew all the people very well, they were all kind, particularly the children. They would do them no harm, but, on the contrary, give them food, and they would have plenty to eat, and could rest for a night in a barn, where she herself had been sheltered and made comfortable for a whole winter. For the matter of that, any of them who did not care to go over to Africa could remain at that place. None of the young geese had ever seen human beings before, and were not afraid of them, but went on confidently, following their mother. As soon as the last goose had got inside the door, Jussi jumped up and fastened the door, remaining inside himself. And what did he do? Did he fondle them, or stroke the old goose who stood so fearlessly in the centre of the flock, looking up at Jussi as if she expected him to pet her? Instead of that he did something so shameful, so unmercifully brutal, so cruel, that one would rather not tell the story. He set to work to wring their necks, one after the other, and killed all of them, even the old goose with the red band round its neck—Hanhi, the children’s pet. The children, who were standing outside, began to suspect mischief. There was such a screaming inside that they themselves began to scream and cry, and to stamp on the ground, and to shout through a chink in the door, ‘Father, father, don’t kill them! don’t kill Hanhi! Let us have her, let her live! Hanhi is our sister, father!’ Presently, with bloody hands, Jussi came out; he had killed every one of them, and the next day he sold them to the monks in the monastery. He would not tell them how he had obtained them, for he was afraid of what Ambrose would say concerning his cruelty. Unnas would not have done such a thing as this. He would, at least, have spared the life of the old goose, either from compassion, or from calculation, hoping that it might at some other time bring him another haul of the same kind. But if Jussi was cruel to helpless animals, he was no coward in front of a bear. He showed his bravery when these three men, Ambrose, Jussi, and Unnas—men as different in appearance and in character as three men could be—were out on an expedition in snow-shoes, and this story I must now narrate: