Heidi
Peter appeared with the goats, and again the two children climbed up
together to the high meadows, and so it went on day after day till
Heidi, passing her life thus among the grass and flowers, was burnt
brown with the sun, and grew so strong and healthy that nothing ever
ailed her. She was happy too, and lived from day to day as free and
lighthearted as the little birds that make their home among the green
forest trees. Then the autumn came, and the wind blew louder and
stronger, and the grandfather would say sometimes, "Today you must stay
at home, Heidi; a sudden gust of the wind would blow a little thing
like you over the rocks into the valley below in a moment."
Whenever Peter heard that he must go alone he looked very unhappy, for
he saw nothing but mishaps of all kinds ahead, and did not know how
he should bear the long, dull day without Heidi. Then, too, there was
the good meal he would miss, and besides that the goats on these days
were so naughty and obstinate that he had twice the usual trouble with
them, for they had grown so accustomed to Heidi's presence that they
would run in every direction and refuse to go on unless she was with
them. Heidi was never unhappy, for wherever she was she found something
to interest or amuse her. She liked best, it is true, to go out with
Peter up to the flowers and the great bird, but she also found her
grandfather's hammering and sawing and carpentering very entertaining,
and if it should chance to be the day when the large, round goats'-milk
cheese was made she enjoyed beyond measure watching her grandfather
stir the great cauldron. The thing which attracted her most, however,
was the waving and roaring of the three old fir trees on these windy
days. She would stand underneath them and look up, unable to tear
herself away, looking and listening while they bowed and swayed and
roared as the mighty wind rushed through them. There was no longer now
the warm, bright sun that had shone all through the summer, so Heidi
went to the cupboard and got out her shoes and stockings and dress.
Then it grew very cold, and Peter would come up early in the morning
blowing on his fingers to keep them warm. But he soon left off coming,
for one night there was a heavy fall of snow and the next morning the
whole mountain was covered with it, and not a single little green leaf
even was to be seen anywhere upon it. There was no Peter that day, and
Heidi stood at the little window looking out in wonderment, for the
snow was beginning again, and the thick flakes kept falling till the
snow was up to the window, and still they continued to fall, and the
snow grew higher, so that at last the window could not be opened, and
she and her grandfather were shut up fast within the hut. Heidi thought
this was great fun and ran from one window to the other. The next day,
the snow having ceased, the grandfather went out and shoveled it away
from the house, and threw it into such great heaps that they looked
like mountains.
Heidi and her grandfather were sitting one afternoon on their
three-legged stools before the fire when there came a great thump at
the door. It was Peter all white with snow for he had had to fight his
way through deep snowdrifts. He had been determined, however, to climb
up to the hut, for it was a week now since he had seen Heidi.
"Good-evening," he said as he came in; then he went and placed himself
as near the fire as he could, his whole face beaming with pleasure
at finding himself there. Heidi looked on in astonishment, for Peter
was beginning to thaw all over with the warmth, so that he had the
appearance of a trickling waterfall.
"Well, General, how goes it with you?" said the grandfather, "now that
you have lost your army you will have to turn to your pen and pencil."
"Why must he turn to his pen and pencil," asked Heidi immediately, full
of curiosity.
"During the winter he must go to school," explained her grandfather,
"and learn how to read and write; it's a bit hard, although useful
sometimes afterwards. Am I not right, General?"
"Yes, indeed," assented Peter.
Heidi's interest was now thoroughly awakened, and she had so many
questions to ask Peter about school, and the conversation took so long
that he had time to get thoroughly dry.
"Well, now, General, you have been under fire for some time and must
want some refreshment. Come and join us," said the grandfather as he
brought the supper out of the cupboard, and Heidi pushed the stools to
the table. There was also now a bench fastened against the wall, for
as he was no longer alone the grandfather had put up seats of various
kinds here and there, long enough to hold two persons, for Heidi had a
way of always keeping close to her grandfather whether he was walking,
sitting, or standing. Peter opened his round eyes very wide when he
saw what a large piece of meat Alm-Uncle gave him on his thick slice
of bread. It was a long time since Peter had had anything so nice to
eat. As soon as the pleasant meal was over he began to get ready for
returning home, for it was already growing dark. He had said his
"good-night" and his thanks, and was just going out, when he turned
and said, "I shall come again next Sunday, this day week, and my
grandmother sent word that she would like you to come and see her some
day."
It was quite a new idea to Heidi that she should go and pay anybody a
visit, and she could not get it out of her head; so the first thing she
said to her grandfather the next day was, "I must go down to see the
grandmother today, she will be expecting me."
"The snow is too deep," answered the grandfather, trying to put her
off. Not a day passed but what she said five or six times to her
grandfather, "I must certainly go today, the grandmother will be
waiting for me."
On the fourth day, when Heidi was sitting on her high stool at dinner
with the bright sun shining in upon her through the window, she again
repeated her little speech, "I must certainly go down to see the
grandmother today, or else I shall keep her waiting too long."
The grandfather rose from the table, climbed up to the hayloft and
brought down the thick sack that was Heidi's coverlid, and said,
"Come along then!" The child skipped out gleefully after him into the
glittering world of snow.
The old fir trees were standing now quite silent, their branches
covered with the white snow, and they looked so lovely as they
glittered and sparkled in the sunlight that Heidi jumped for joy at the
sight and kept on calling out, "Come here, come here, Grandfather! The
fir trees are all silver and gold!" The grandfather had gone into the
shed and he now came out, dragging a large hand-sleigh; inside there
was a low seat, and the sleigh could be pushed forward and guided by
the feet of the one who sat upon it with the help of a pole that was
fastened to the side. The old man got in and lifted the child on to his
lap; then he wrapped her up in the sack, that she might keep nice and
warm, and put his left arm closely round her, for it was necessary to
hold her tight during the coming journey. He now grasped the pole with
his right hand and gave the sleigh a push forward with his two feet.
It shot down the mountain side with such rapidity that Heidi thought
they were flying through the air like a bird, and shouted aloud with
delight. Suddenly they came to a standstill, and there they were at
Peter's hut. Her grandfather lifted her out and unwrapped her. "There
you are, now go in, and when it begins to grow dark you must start
on your way home again." Then he left her and went up the mountain,
pulling his sleigh after him.
Heidi opened the door of the hut and stepped into a tiny room that
looked very dark, with a fireplace and a few dishes on a wooden shelf;
this was the little kitchen. She opened another door, and found herself
in another small room, for the place was not a herdsman's hut like her
grandfather's, with one large room on the ground floor and a hay-loft
above, but a very old cottage, where everything was narrow and poor
and shabby. A table was close to the door, and as Heidi stepped in she
saw a woman sitting at it, putting a patch on a waistcoat which Heidi
recognized at once as Peter's. In the corner sat an old woman, bent
with age, spinning. Heidi was quite sure this was the grandmother, so
she went up to the spinning-wheel and said, "Good-day, Grandmother, I
have come at last; did you think I was a long time coming?"
The old woman raised her head and felt for the hand that the child
held out to her, and when she had found it, she passed her own over it
thoughtfully for a few seconds, and then said, "Are you the child who
lives up with Alm-Uncle, are you Heidi?"
"Yes, yes," answered Heidi, "I have just come down in the sleigh with
grandfather."
"Is it possible! Why, your hands are quite warm! Brigitta, did
Alm-Uncle come himself with the child?"
Peter's mother had left her work and risen from the table and now stood
looking at Heidi with curiosity, scanning her from head to foot. "I do
not know, mother, whether Uncle came himself; it is hardly likely, the
child probably makes a mistake."
But Heidi looked steadily at the woman, and said, "I know quite well
who wrapped me up in my bedcover and brought me down in the sleigh: it
was grandfather."
"There was some truth then perhaps in what Peter used to tell us of
Alm-Uncle during the summer, when we thought he must be wrong," said
grandmother; "but who would ever have believed that such a thing was
possible; I did not think the child would live three weeks up there.
What is she like, Brigitta?"
The latter had so thoroughly examined Heidi on all sides that she was
well able to describe her to her mother.
Heidi meanwhile had not been idle; she had made the round of the room
and looked carefully at everything there was to be seen. All of a
sudden she exclaimed, "Grandmother, one of your shutters is flapping
backwards and forwards: grandfather would put a nail in and make it all
right in a minute. It will break one of the panes some day; look, how
it keeps on banging!"
"Ah, dear child," said the old woman, "I am not able to see it, but I
can hear that and many other things besides the shutter. Everything
about the place rattles and creaks when the wind is blowing, and it
gets inside through all the cracks and holes. The house is going to
pieces, and in the night, when the two others are asleep, I often lie
awake in fear and trembling, thinking that the whole place will give
way and fall and kill us. And there is not a creature to mend anything
for us, for Peter does not understand such work."
"But why cannot you see, Grandmother, that the shutter is loose. Look,
there it goes again, see, that one there!" And Heidi pointed to the
particular shutter.
"Alas, child, I can see nothing, nothing," said the grandmother in a
voice of lamentation.
"But if I were to go outside and put back the shutter so that you had
more light, then you could see, Grandmother?"
"No, no, not even then, no one can make it light for me again."
"But if you were to go outside among all the white snow, then surely
you would find it light; just come with me, Grandmother, and I will
show you." Heidi took hold of the old woman's hand to lead her along,
for she was beginning to feel quite distressed at the thought of her
being without light.
"Let me be, dear child; it is always dark for me now; whether in snow
or sun. It will never be light for me again on earth, never."
At these words Heidi broke into loud crying. In her distress she kept
on sobbing out, "Who can make it light for you again? Can no one do it?
Isn't there any one who can do it?"
The grandmother now tried to comfort the child, but it was not easy to