Free Astrid Lindgren, illustrated by Ilon Wikland, translated from the Swedish by Jill Morgan by Astrid Lindgren

ground opened before us, and I saw a burrow there. Before I knew how it happened, Pompoo and I crawled down in a crowded heap into the burrow, trembling like two baby rabbits hunted by the fox.
    We were just in time. We heard hoofbeats coming closer. We heard the spies riding above us, right over our burrow. We heard the trampling of hooves, we heard the horses’ heavy feet thunder across the earth above our heads. A little bit of the dirt loosened and trickled down on us. And we crouched there feeling so small and scared.
    But it became quiet. As quiet as if there weren’t any spies in the Dead Forest. We waited longer.
    â€œI think we can crawl out now,” I said at last.
    But just then we heard the horrible sound of hooves again. The spies were coming back. Once more the hooves thundered over our heads, and we heard the spies shouting and yelling. They jumped off their horses and sat down on the ground just outside the burrow. We could see them through the opening. They were so close we could’ve touched them. And we could hear them talking.
    â€œOrders from Sir Kato that the enemy must be captured,” said one of them. “The enemy who rode on the white colt must be captured tonight. It’s Sir Kato’s command.”
    â€œThe enemy is in our midst,” said another, “and we’ll certainly capture him. Search! Search every-where!”
    They were sitting very close to us, speaking about how they would catch us. Dark and terrifying, they sat there in the sinister gray light, with all the dead trees around them and their black horses snapping wildly and stamping the ground.
    â€œSearch! Search everywhere!” said a spy. “What is that hole in the ground there?”
    â€œA burrow,” said another. “Maybe the enemy is inside there. Search everywhere!”
    Pompoo and I held each other tightly. This was the end, I knew it.
    â€œI’ll prod with my spear,” said one of the spies. “If the enemy is in there I’ll pierce him with my spear.”
    We saw a black spear coming through the entrance. We had crept as far back into the burrow as we could go. But the spear was long, the sharp point came closer and closer. The spear thrust and thrust. But it didn’t hit us. It hit the wall of the burrow between Pompoo and me, but it didn’t hit us.
    â€œSearch! Search the entire Dead Forest,” said the spies outside. “Orders from Sir Kato that the enemy must be caught. But he isn’t here. Search everywhere!”
    So the spies mounted their black horses and rode away.
    We were safe. The burrow had rescued us, and I wondered why. Was it because even the earth and the ground hated Sir Kato and would gladly help the one who had come to fight him? Maybe soft green grass had once grown on this ground, wet from the dew at dawn. Sir Kato’s evilness must have made it wither and die. I don’t believe the ground can ever forgive anyone who has killed the soft green grass that once grew there. That must be why the earth protected the one who had come to fight Sir Kato.
    â€œThank you, kind earth,” I said, when we left. But the earth didn’t answer. It lay silent, and the burrow was gone.
    We walked and walked, and reached the end of the Dead Forest. Mountains and cliffs rose up in front of us. I felt hopeless. We had come back to the rocks around the Dead Lake. We felt so hopeless, Pompoo and I. It was no good going on. We would never find the Swordsmith. We had been walking through the Dead Forest for the whole night, and now we were back exactly where we had started. Eno’s cottage stood there, small and gray and shabby. It leaned against the cliff so it wouldn’t fall down. It was a tall, jet black cliff that it leaned against.
    â€œThis must be the blackest mountain in the world,” said Pompoo.
    The blackest mountain—yes, of course that’s where the Swordsmith was supposed to have his cave! “The