Heidi
Peter rose and filled it again for her. Then she broke off a piece
of her bread and held out the remainder, which was still larger than
Peter's own piece, together with the whole big slice of cheese to her
companion, saying, "You can have that, I have plenty."
Peter looked at Heidi, unable to speak for astonishment. He hesitated
a moment, for he could not believe that Heidi was in earnest; but the
latter kept on holding out the bread and cheese, and as Peter still did
not take it, she laid it down on his knees. He saw then that she really
meant it; he seized the food, nodded his thanks and acceptance of her
present, and then made a more splendid meal than he had known ever
since he was a goat-herd. Heidi the while still continued to watch the
goats. "Tell me all their names," she said.
Peter knew these by heart, so he began, telling Heidi the name of each
goat in turn as he pointed it out to her. She listened with great
attention, and it was not long before she could herself distinguish
the goats from one another and could call each by name, for every goat
had its own peculiarities which could not easily be mistaken. There
was the great Turk with his big horns, who was always wanting to butt
the others, so that most of them ran away when they saw him coming and
would have nothing to do with their rough companion. Only Greenfinch,
the slender, nimble, little goat, was brave enough to face him, and
would make a rush at him, three or four times in succession. Then
there was little White Snowflake, who bleated in such a plaintive
and beseeching manner that Heidi already had several times run to it
and taken its head in her hands to comfort it. Just at this moment
the pleading young cry was heard again, and Heidi jumped up running
and, putting her arms around the little creature's neck, asked in a
sympathetic voice, "What is it, little Snowflake? Why do you call
like that as if in trouble?" The goat pressed closer to Heidi in a
confiding way and left off bleating. Peter called out from where
he was sitting--for he had not yet got to the end of his bread and
cheese--"she cries like that because the old goat is not with her; she
was sold at Mayenfeld the day before yesterday, and so will not come up
the mountain any more."
"Who is the old goat?" called Heidi back.
"Why, her mother, of course," was the answer.
"Where is the grandmother?" called Heidi again.
"She has none."
"And the grandfather?"
"She has none."
"Oh, you poor little Snowflake!" exclaimed Heidi, clasping the animal
gently to her, "but do not cry like that any more; see now, I shall
come up here with you every day, so that you will not be alone any
more, and if you want anything you have only to come to me."
The goats were now beginning to climb the rocks again, each seeking for
the plants it liked in its own fashion, some jumping over everything
they met till they found what they wanted, others going more carefully
and cropping all the nice leaves by the way, the Turk still now and
then giving the others a poke with his horns. Little Swan and Little
Bear clambered lightly up and never failed to find the best bushes,
and then they would stand gracefully poised on their pretty legs,
delicately nibbling at the leaves. Heidi stood with her hands behind
her back, carefully noting all they did.
"Peter," she said to the boy who had again thrown himself down on the
ground, "the prettiest of all the goats are Little Swan and Little
Bear."
"Yes, I know they are," was the answer. "Alm-Uncle brushes them down
and washes them and gives them salt, and he has the nicest shed for
them."
All of a sudden Peter leaped to his feet and ran hastily after the
goats. Heidi followed him as fast as she could, for she was too eager
to know what had happened to stay behind. Peter dashed through the
middle of the flock towards that side of the mountain where the rocks
fell perpendicularly to a great depth below, and where any thoughtless
goat, if it went too near, might fall over and break all its legs. He
had caught sight of the inquisitive Greenfinch taking leaps in that
direction, and he was only just in time, for the animal had already
sprung to the edge of the abyss. All Peter could do was to throw
himself down and seize one of her hind legs. Greenfinch, thus taken by
surprise, began bleating furiously, angry at being held so fast and
prevented from continuing her voyage of discovery. She struggled to get
loose, and endeavored so obstinately to leap forward that Peter shouted
to Heidi to come and help him, for he could not get up and was afraid
of pulling out the goat's leg altogether.
Heidi had already run up and she saw at once the danger both Peter and
the animal were in. She quickly gathered a bunch of sweet-smelling
leaves, and then, holding them under Greenfinch's nose, said coaxingly,
"Come, come, Greenfinch, you must not be naughty! Look, you might fall
down there and break your leg, and that would give you dreadful pain!"
The young animal turned quickly and began contentedly eating the leaves
out of Heidi's hand. Meanwhile Peter got on to his feet again and took
hold of Greenfinch by the band round her neck from which her bell was
hung, and Heidi taking hold of her in the same way on the other side,
they led the wanderer back to the rest of the flock that had remained
peacefully feeding. Peter, now he had his goat in safety, lifted his
stick in order to give her a good beating as punishment, and Greenfinch
seeing what was coming shrank back in fear. But Heidi cried out, "No,
no, Peter, you must not strike her; see how frightened she is!"
"She deserves it," growled Peter, and again lifted his stick. Then
Heidi flung herself against him and cried indignantly, "You have no
right to touch her, it will hurt her, let her alone!"
Peter looked with surprise at the commanding little figure, whose dark
eyes were flashing, and reluctantly he let his stick drop. "Well,
I will let her off if you will give me some more of your cheese
tomorrow," he said, for he was determined to have something to make up
to him for his fright.
"You shall have it all, tomorrow and every day, I do not want it,"
replied Heidi, giving ready consent to his demand. "And I will give
you bread as well, a large piece like you had today; but then you must
promise never to beat Greenfinch, or Snowflake, or any of the goats."
"All right," said Peter, "I don't care," which meant that he would
agree to the bargain, and let go of Greenfinch, who joyfully sprang to
join her companions.
And thus imperceptibly the day had crept on to its close, and now the
sun was on the point of sinking out of sight behind the high mountains.
Heidi was again sitting on the ground, when all at once she sprang
to her feet, "Peter! Peter! everything is on fire! All the rocks are
burning, and the great snow mountain and the sky! O look, look! the
high rock up there is red with flame! O the beautiful, fiery snow!
Stand up, Peter! See, the fire has reached the great bird's nest! look
at the rocks! look at the fir trees! Everything, everything is on fire!"
"It is always like that," said Peter composedly, continuing to peel his
stick; "but it is not really fire."
"What is it then?" cried Heidi.
"It gets like that of itself," explained Peter.
"Look, look!" cried Heidi in fresh excitement, "now they have turned
all rose color! Look at that one covered with snow, and that with the
high, pointed rocks! What do you call them?"
"Mountains have not any names," he answered.
"O how beautiful, look at the crimson snow! And up there on the rocks
there are ever so many roses! Oh! now they are turning grey! Oh! oh!
now all the color has died away! it's all gone, Peter." And Heidi sat
down on the ground looking as full of distress as if everything had
really come to an end.
"It will come again tomorrow," said Peter. "Get up, we must go home
now." He whistled to his goats and together they all started on their
homeward way.
"Is it like that every day, shall we see it every day when we bring
the goats up here?" asked Heidi, as she clambered down the mountain at
Peter's side; she waited eagerly for his answer, hoping that he would
tell her it was so.
"It is like that most days," he replied.
"But will it be like that tomorrow for certain?" Heidi persisted.
"Yes, yes, tomorrow for certain," Peter assured her in answer.
Heidi now felt quite happy again, and her little brain was so full of
new impressions and new thoughts that she did not speak any more until
they had reached the hut. The grandfather was sitting under the fir
trees, where he had put up a new seat.
Heidi ran up to him, followed by the white and brown goats, for they
knew their own master and stall. Peter called out after her, "Come with
me again tomorrow! Good-night!" For he was anxious for more than one
reason that Heidi should go with him the next day.
"O, Grandfather," cried Heidi, "it was so beautiful. The fire, and the
roses on the rocks, and the blue and yellow flowers, and look what I
have brought you!" And opening the apron that held her flowers she
shook them all out at her grandfather's feet. But the poor flowers,
how changed they were! Heidi hardly knew them again. They looked like
dried bits of hay, not a single little flower cup stood open. "O,
Grandfather, what is the matter with them?" exclaimed Heidi in shocked
surprise, "they were not like that this morning, why do they look so
now?"
"They like to stand out there in the sun and not to be shut up in an
apron," said her grandfather.
"Then I will never gather any more. But, Grandfather, why did the great
bird go on croaking so?" she continued in an eager tone of inquiry.
"Go along now and get into your bath while I go and get some milk; when
we are together at supper I will tell you all about it."
Heidi obeyed, and when later she was sitting on her high stool before
her milk bowl with her grandfather beside her, she repeated her
question, "Why does the great bird go on croaking and screaming down at
us, Grandfather?"
"He is mocking at the people who live down below in the villages,
because they all go huddling and gossipping together, and encourage one
another in evil talking and deeds. He calls out, 'If you would separate
and each go your own way and come up here and live on a height as I
do, it would be better for you!'" there was almost a wildness in the
old man's voice as he spoke, so that Heidi seemed to hear the croaking
of the bird again even more distinctly.
"Why haven't the mountains any names?" Heidi went on.
"They have names," answered her grandfather, "and if you can describe
one of them to me that I know I will tell you what it is called."
Heidi then described to him the rocky mountain with the two high peaks
so exactly that the grandfather was delighted. "Just so, I know it,"
and he told her its name.
Then Heidi told him of the mountain with the great snowfield, and how
it had been on fire.
The grandfather explained to her it was the sun that did it. "When he
says good-night to the mountains he throws his most beautiful colors
over them, so that they may not forget him before he comes again the
next day."
Heidi was delighted with this explanation, and could hardly bear to
wait for another day to come that she might once more climb up with the
goats and see how the sun bid good-night to the mountains. But she had
to go to bed first, and all night she slept soundly on her bed of hay,
dreaming of nothing but of shining mountains with red roses all over
them, among which happy little Snowflake went leaping in and out.
CHAPTER IV
SHOOTING DOWN THE MOUNTAIN SIDE
The next morning the sun came out early as bright as ever, and then