Heidi
Presently he doubled both fists, and the longer Heidi stayed beside the
gentleman, the more fiercely did he threaten with them.
Meanwhile the sun had risen to the height which Peter knew pointed to
the dinner hour. All of a sudden he called at the top of his voice,
"It's dinner time."
Heidi started for the dinner bag so that the doctor might eat his where
he sat. But he stopped her, telling her he was not hungry at all, and
only cared for a glass of milk, as he wanted to climb up a little
higher. Then Heidi found that she also was not hungry and only wanted
milk, and she should like, she said, to take the doctor up to the large
moss-covered rock where Greenfinch had nearly jumped down and killed
herself. So she ran and explained matters to Peter, telling him to go
and get milk for the two. Peter seemed hardly to understand. "Who is
going to eat what is in the bag, then?" he asked.
"You can have it," she answered, "only first make haste and get the
milk."
Peter had seldom performed any task more promptly, for he thought of
the bag and its contents, which now belonged to him. As soon as the
other two were sitting quietly drinking their milk, he opened it,
and quite trembled for joy at the sight of the meat, and he was just
putting his hand in to draw it out when something seemed to hold him
back. His conscience smote him at the remembrance of how he had stood
with his doubled fists behind the doctor, who was giving up to him his
whole good dinner. He felt as if he could not now enjoy it. But all at
once he jumped up and ran back to the spot where he had stood before,
and there held up his open hands as a sign that he had no longer any
wish to use them as fists, and kept them up until he felt he had made
amends for his past conduct. Then he rushed back and sat down to the
double enjoyment of a clear conscience and unusually satisfying meal.
Heidi and the doctor climbed and talked for a long while, until
the latter said it was time for him to be going back, and no doubt
Heidi would like to go and be with her goats. But Heidi would not
hear of this, as then the doctor would have to go the whole way down
the mountain alone. She insisted on accompanying him as far as the
grandfather's hut, or even a little further. She kept hold of her
friend's hand all the time, and the whole way she entertained him with
accounts of this thing and that. But at last the doctor insisted on her
going back; so they bid each other good-night and the doctor continued
his descent, turning now and again to look back, and each time he saw
Heidi standing on the same spot and waving her hand to him. Even so in
the old days had his own dear little daughter watched him when he went
from home.
It was a bright, sunny autumn month. The doctor came up to the hut
every morning, and thence made excursions over the mountain. Alm-Uncle
accompanied him on some of his higher ascents. The doctor found great
pleasure in his companion's conversation, and was astonished at his
knowledge of the plants that grew on the mountain. He was well versed
also in the ways of the animals, great and small, and had many amusing
anecdotes to tell of these dwellers in caves and holes and in the tops
of the fir trees. And so the time passed pleasantly and quickly for
the doctor, who seldom said good-bye to the old man at the end of the
day without adding, "I never leave you, friend, without having learnt
something new from you."
On some of the very finest days, however, the doctor would wander out
again with Heidi, and then the two would sit together as on the first
day, and the child would repeat her hymns and tell the doctor things
which she alone knew. Peter sat at a little distance from them, but he
was now quite reconciled in spirit and gave vent to no angry pantomime.
September had drawn to its close, and one morning the doctor appeared
looking less cheerful than usual. It was his last day, he said, as
he must return to Frankfurt, but he was grieved at having to say
good-bye to the mountain, which had begun to feel quite like home to
him. Alm-Uncle, on his side, greatly regretted the departure of his
guest, and Heidi had been accustomed for so long to see her good friend
every day that she could hardly believe the time had suddenly come to
separate. She walked part way down the mountain with him, still unable
to grasp the idea that he was going for good. After some distance the
doctor stood still, and passing his hand over the child's curly head
said, "Now, Heidi, you must go back, and I must say good-bye! If only I
could take you with me to Frankfurt and keep you there!"
The picture of Frankfurt rose before the child's eyes, its endless rows
of houses, its hard streets, and even the vision of Miss Rottermeyer
and Tinette, and she answered hesitatingly, "I would rather that you
came back to us."
"Yes, you are right, that would be better. But now good-bye, Heidi."
The child put her hand in his and looked up at him; the kind eyes
looking down on her had tears in them. Then the doctor tore himself
away and quickly continued his descent.
Heidi remained standing without moving. The friendly eyes with the
tears in them had gone to her heart. All at once she burst into tears
and started running as fast as she could after the departing figure,
calling out in broken tones: "Doctor! doctor!"
He turned round and waited till the child reached him. The tears were
streaming down her face and she sobbed out: "I will come to Frankfurt
with you, now at once, and I will stay with you as long as you like,
only I must just run back and tell grandfather."
The doctor laid his hand on her and tried to calm her excitement.
"No, no, dear child," he said kindly, "not now; you must stay for the
present under the fir trees, you might get sick again. But if I am ever
ill and alone, will you come then and stay with me? May I know that
there would then be some one to look after me and care for me?"
"Yes, yes, I will come the very day you send for me, and I love you
nearly as much as grandfather," replied Heidi, who had not yet got over
her distress.
And so the doctor again bid her good-bye and started on his way, while
Heidi remained looking after him and waving her hand as long as a speck
of him could be seen. As the doctor turned for the last time and looked
back at the waving Heidi and the sunny mountain, he said to himself,
"It is good to be up there, good for body and soul, and a man might
learn how to be happy once more."
CHAPTER XVIII
A NEW HOME FOR THE WINTER
Alm-Uncle had kept his word and was not spending the winter in his old
home. As soon as the first snow began to fall, he had shut up the hut
and the outside buildings and gone down to Doerfli with Heidi and the
goats. Near the church was a straggling half-ruined building, which had
once been the home of a distinguished soldier. It was rented to poor
people, who paid but a small sum, and when any part of the building
fell it was allowed to remain. As soon as the grandfather had made up
his mind to spend the winter in Doerfli, he rented the old place and
worked during the autumn to get it sound and tight. In the middle of
October he and Heidi took up their residence there.
On approaching the house from the back one came first into an open
space with a wall on either side, of which one was half in ruins. Above
this rose the arch of an old window thickly overgrown with ivy, which
spread over the remains of a domed roof that had evidently been part
of a chapel. A large hall came next, which lay open, without doors, to
the square outside. Here also walls and roof only partially remained,
and indeed what was left of the roof looked as if it might fall at
any minute had it not been for two stout pillars that supported it.
Alm-Uncle had here put up a wooden partition and covered the floor
with straw, for this was to be the goats' house. Endless passages led
from this, through the rents of which the sky as well as the fields
and the road outside could be seen at intervals; but at last one came
to a stout oak door that led into a room that still stood intact. Here
the walls and the dark wainscoting remained as good as ever, and in
the corner was an immense stove reaching nearly to the ceiling, on
the white tiles of which were painted large pictures in blue. These
represented old castles surrounded with trees, and huntsmen riding out
with their hounds; or else a quiet lake scene, with broad oak trees and
a man fishing. A seat ran all round the stove so that one could sit at
one's ease and study the pictures. These attracted Heidi's attention
at once, and she had no sooner arrived with her grandfather than she
ran and seated herself and began to examine them. But when she had
gradually worked herself round to the back, something else diverted
her attention. In the large space between the stove and the wall four
planks had been put together as if to make a large receptacle for
apples; there were no apples, however, inside, but something Heidi had
no difficulty in recognizing, for it was her very own bed, with its hay
mattress and sheets, and sack for a coverlid, just as she had it up at
the hut. Heidi clapped her hands for joy and exclaimed, "O Grandfather,
this is my room, how nice! But where are you going to sleep?"
"Your room must be near the stove or you will freeze," he replied, "but
you can come and see mine too."
Heidi got down and skipped across the large room after her grandfather,
who opened a door at the farther end leading into a smaller one which
was to be his bed-room. Then came another door. Heidi pushed it open
and stood amazed, for here was an immense room like a kitchen, larger
than anything of the kind that Heidi had seen before. There was still
plenty of work for the grandfather before this room could be finished,
for there were holes and cracks in the walls through which the wind
whistled, and yet he had already nailed up so many new planks that
it looked as if a lot of small cupboards had been set up round the
room. He had, however, made the large, old door safe with many screws
and nails, as a protection against the outside air, and this was very
necessary, for just beyond was a mass of ruined building overgrown with
tall weeds, which made a dwelling-place for innumerable beetles and
lizards.
Heidi was very delighted with her new home, and by the morning after
their arrival she knew every nook and corner so thoroughly that she
could take Peter over it and show him all that was to be seen; indeed
she would not let him go till he had examined every single wonderful
thing contained in it.
Heidi slept soundly in her corner by the stove; but every morning when
she first awoke she still thought she was on the mountain, and that she
must run outside at once to see if the fir trees were so quiet because
their branches were weighed down with the thick snow. She had to look
about her for some minutes before she felt quite sure where she was,
and a certain sensation of trouble and oppression would come over her
as she grew aware that she was not at home in the hut. But then she
would hear her grandfather's voice outside, attending to the goats, and
these would give one or two loud bleats, as if calling to her to make
haste and go to them, and then Heidi was happy again, for she knew she
was still at home, and she would jump gladly out of bed and run out to
the animals as quickly as she could. On the fourth morning, as soon as
she saw her grandfather, she said, "I must go up to see grandmother
today; she ought not to be alone so long."
But the grandfather would not agree to this. "Neither today nor
tomorrow can you go," he said, "the mountain is covered fathom-deep in