Heidi
snow-field, till at last the sun sank in a sea of golden flame.
Heidi never tired of telling Clara of the beauty of the spot on the
higher slope of the mountain, where the bright golden rock-roses grew
in masses, and the blue flowers were in such numbers that the very
grass seemed to have turned blue. An irrepressible longing came over
her to see it all once more. She ran to her grandfather, who was in the
shed, calling out almost before she was inside,--
"Grandfather, will you take us out with the goats tomorrow? Oh, it is
so lovely up there now!"
"Very well," he answered, "but if I do, little Clara must do something
to please me: she must try her best again this evening to stand on her
feet."
Heidi ran back with the good news to Clara, and the latter promised to
try her very best as the grandfather wished, for she looked forward
immensely to the next day's excursion. Heidi was so pleased and excited
that she called out to Peter as soon as she caught sight of him that
evening,--
"Peter, Peter, we are all coming out with you tomorrow and are going to
stay up there the whole day."
Peter, cross as a bear, grumbled some reply, and lifted his stick to
give Greenfinch a blow for no reason in particular, but Greenfinch saw
the movement, and with a leap over Snowflake's back she got out of the
way, and the stick only hit the air.
Clara and Heidi got into their two fine beds that night full of
delightful anticipation of the morrow; they were so full of their plans
that they agreed to keep awake all night and talk over them. But their
heads had no sooner touched their soft pillows than the conversation
suddenly ceased, and Clara fell into a dream of an immense field,
which looked the color of the sky, so thickly inlaid was it with blue,
bell-shaped flowers; and Heidi heard the great bird of prey calling to
her from the heights above, "Come! come! come!"
CHAPTER XXII
WICKED PETER AND THE UNLUCKY CHAIR
Uncle went out early the next morning to see what kind of a day it was
going to be. There was a reddish gold light over the higher peaks; a
light breeze was springing up and the branches of the fir trees moved
gently to and fro--the sun was on its way.
He wheeled the chair out of the shed ready for the coming journey, and
then went in to call the children and tell them what a lovely sunrise
it was.
Peter came up the mountain at this moment. The goats did not gather
round him so trustfully as usual, but seemed to avoid him timidly, for
he had reached a high pitch of anger and bitterness, and was using
his stick very unnecessarily, and where it fell the blow was no light
one. For weeks now he had not had Heidi all to himself as formerly.
When he came up in the morning the invalid child was always already
in her chair and Heidi fully occupied with her. And it was the same
thing over again when he came down in the evening. She had not come
out with the goats once this summer, and today she was only coming in
company with her friend and the chair, and would stick by the latter's
side the whole time. It was the thought of this which was making him
particularly cross this morning. There stood the chair on its high
wheels. Peter glared at it as at an enemy that had done him harm and
was likely to do him still more today. He glanced round--there was
no sound anywhere, no one to see him. He sprang forward like a wild
creature, caught hold of the chair, and gave it a violent and angry
push in the direction of the slope. It rolled swiftly forward and in
another minute had disappeared.
Peter now sped up the mountain as if on wings, not pausing till he was
well hidden behind a large blackberry bush, for he had no wish to be
seen by Uncle. But he was anxious to see what had become of the chair,
so he looked, and there he saw his enemy running faster and faster down
hill, then it turned head over heels several times, and finally, after
one great bound, rolled over and over to its complete destruction.
The pieces flew in every direction--feet, arms, and torn fragments of
the padded seat and bolster--and Peter experienced a feeling of such
unbounded delight at the sight that he leapt in the air, laughing aloud
and stamping for joy. He could see only good results for himself in
the disaster to his enemy. Now Heidi's friend would be obliged to
go away, for she would have no means of going about, and when Heidi
was alone again she would come out with him as in the old days, and
everything would go on in the proper way. But Peter did not consider,
or did not know, that when we do a wrong thing trouble is sure to
follow.
Heidi now came running out of the hut and round the shed. Grandfather
was behind with Clara in his arms. The shed stood wide open, the two
loose planks having been taken down, and it was quite light inside.
Heidi looked into every corner and ran from one end to the other, and
then stood still wondering what could have happened to the chair.
Grandfather now came up.
"How is this, have you wheeled the chair away, Heidi?"
"I have been looking everywhere for it, Grandfather; you said it was
standing ready outside," and she again searched each corner of the shed
with her eyes.
At that moment the wind, which had risen suddenly, blew open the shed
door and sent it banging back against the wall.
"It must have been the wind, Grandfather," exclaimed Heidi, and her
eyes grew anxious at this sudden discovery. "Oh! if it has blown the
chair all the way down to Doerfli we shall not get it back in time, and
shall not be able to go."
"If it has rolled as far as that it will never come back, for it is in
a hundred pieces by now," said the grandfather, going round the corner
and looking down. "But it's a curious thing to have happened!" he added
as he thought over the matter, for the chair would have had to turn a
corner before starting down hill.
"Oh, I am sorry," lamented Clara, "for we shall not be able to go
today, or perhaps any other day. I shall have to go home, I suppose, if
I have no chair. Oh, I am so sorry, I am so sorry!"
But Heidi looked towards her grandfather with her usual expression of
confidence.
"Grandfather, you will be able to do something, won't you, so that it
need not be as Clara says, and so that she is not obliged to go home."
"Well, for the present we will go up the mountain as we had arranged,
and then later on we will see what can be done," he answered, much to
the children's delight.
He went indoors, carried out a pile of shawls, and laying them on the
sunniest spot he could find set Clara down upon them. Then he brought
the children's morning milk and led out his two goats.
"Why is Peter not here yet," thought Uncle to himself, for Peter's
whistle had not been sounded that morning. The grandfather then took
Clara up on one arm, and the shawls on the other.
"Now then we will start," he said, "the goats can come with us."
Heidi was pleased at this and walked on after her grandfather with an
arm over either of the goats' necks, and the animals were so overjoyed
to have her again that they nearly squeezed her flat between them out
of sheer affection. When they reached the spot where the goats usually
pastured they were surprised to find them already feeding there,
climbing about the rocks, and Peter with them, lying his full length on
the ground.
"I'll teach you another time to go by like that, you lazy rascal! What
do you mean by it?" Uncle called to him.
Peter, recognizing the voice, jumped up like a shot. "No one was up,"
he answered.
"Have you seen anything of the chair?" asked the grandfather.
"Of what chair?" called Peter back in answer in a morose tone of voice.
Uncle said no more. He spread the shawls on the sunny slope, and
setting Clara upon them asked if she was comfortable.
"As comfortable as in my chair," she said, thanking him, "and this
seems the most beautiful spot. O Heidi, it is lovely, it is lovely!"
she cried, looking round her with delight.
The grandfather prepared to leave them. They would now be safe and
happy together he said, and when it was time for dinner Heidi was to go
and bring the bag from the shady hollow where he had put it; Peter was
to get them as much milk as they wanted, but Heidi was to see that it
was Little Swan's milk. He would come for them towards evening; he must
now be off to see after the chair and find out what had become of it.
The sky was dark blue, and not a single cloud was to be seen from one
horizon to the other. The great snowfield overhead sparkled as if set
with thousands and thousands of gold and silver stars. Now and again
a young goat came and lay down beside them; Snowflake came oftenest,
putting her little head down near Heidi, and only moving because
another goat came and drove her away. And the goats had also grown
familiar with Clara and would rub their heads against her shoulder,
which was always a sign of acquaintanceship and goodwill.
Some hours went by, and Heidi began to think that she might just go
over to the spot where all the flowers grew to see if they were fully
blown and looking as lovely as the year before. Clara could not go
until grandfather came back that evening, when the flowers probably
would be already closed. The longing to go became stronger and
stronger, till Heidi felt she could not resist it.
"Would you think me unkind, Clara," she said rather hesitatingly, "if
I left you for a few minutes? I could run there and back very quickly.
I want so to see how the flowers are looking--but wait--" for an idea
had come into Heidi's head. She ran and picked a bunch or two of green
leaves, and then took hold of Snowflake and led her up to Clara.
"There, now you will not be alone," said Heidi, giving the goat a
little push to show her she was to lie down near Clara, which the
animal quite understood. Heidi threw the leaves into Clara's lap,
and the latter told her friend to go at once to look at the flowers
as she was quite happy to be left with the goat; she liked this new
experience. Heidi ran off, and Clara began to hold out the leaves one
by one to Snowflake, who snuggled up to her new friend in a confiding
manner and slowly ate the leaves from her hand. She found a strange
new pleasure in sitting all alone like this on the mountain side, her
only companion a little goat that looked to her for protection. She
suddenly felt a great desire to be her own mistress and to be able to
help others, instead of herself being always dependent as she was now.
Many thoughts, unknown to her before, came crowding into her mind, and
a longing to go on living in the sunshine, and to be doing something
that would bring happiness to another, as now she was helping to make
the goat happy. An unaccustomed feeling of joy took possession of her,
as if everything she had ever known or felt became all at once more
beautiful, and she seemed to see all things in a new light, and so
strong was the sense of this new beauty and happiness that she threw
her arms round the little goat's neck, and exclaimed, "O Snowflake, how
delightful it is up here! if only I could stay on for ever with you
beside me!"
Heidi had meanwhile reached her field of flowers, and as she caught
sight of it she uttered a cry of joy. The whole ground in front of her
was a mass of shimmering gold, where the cistus flowers spread their
yellow blossoms. Above them waved whole bushes of the deep blue-bell
flowers. Heidi stood and gazed and drew in the delicious air. Suddenly
she turned round and reached Clara's side out of breath with running
and excitement. "Oh, you must come," she called out as soon as she came
in sight, "it is more beautiful than you can imagine, and perhaps this
evening it may not be so lovely. I believe I could carry you, don't you