Heidi (1899)/Part 1/Chapter 3

Heidi was awakened early in the morning by a loud whistle; and when she opened her eyes, a flood of sunshine was pouring through the round window on her bed and the hay close by, so that everything about shone like gold. Heidi looked around her in amazement and did not know where she was.

Then she heard her grandfather's deep voice outside, and everything came back to her mind—where she had come from, and that now she was up on the Alm with her grandfather and no longer with old Ursel. Ursel was always cold, so that she liked to sit by the kitchen fire or the stove in her chamber. Heidi had been obliged to stay very near, so that the old woman could see where she was, because she was deaf and could not hear her. This had often been very irksome to Heidi, who longed to run outside.

So she was very glad when she awoke in her new home and remembered how many strange things she had seen the day before and what she would see again that day, especially Schwänli and Bärli.

Heidi jumped quickly out of bed and in a few minutes had put on all that she wore the day before; it was very little. Then she climbed down the ladder and ran out ​in front of the hut. There already stood the goatherd Peter with his flock, and the grandfather was bringing Schwänli and Bärli out of the shed to join the other goats. Heidi ran up to him to say good-morning to him and the goats.

"Would you like to go to the pasture, too?" asked the grandfather. Heidi was pleased with the idea and jumped for joy.

"But first wash and be clean, or else the sun will laugh at you when it is shining so brightly up there and sees that you are dirty; see, everything is ready for you."

The grandfather pointed to a large tub full of water standing before the door in the sunshine. Heidi ran to it and splashed and rubbed until she was all shining. Meanwhile the grandfather went into the hut and called to Peter:—

"Come here, general of the goats, and bring your haversack with you."

Peter, surprised, obeyed the call and brought along the little bag in which he carried his meagre dinner.

"Open it," said the old man; and he put in a large piece of bread and an equally large piece of cheese. Peter opened his round eyes as wide as possible in his amazement, for both pieces were half as large again as what he had brought for his own dinner.

"Now in goes the little bowl," continued the uncle, "for the child cannot drink the way you do, right from the goat; she does n't know how. Milk two bowlsful at noon for her, as she is to go with you and stay until ​you come down again; take care that she does n't fall over the rocks; do you hear?"

Heidi came running up.

"Can the sun laugh at me now, grandfather?" she asked eagerly. In her fear of the sun she had rubbed her face, neck, and arms so vigorously with the coarse towel her grandfather had hung by the water tub that she looked as red as a lobster. Her grandfather smiled.

"No; now he has nothing to laugh at," he admitted; "but do you know to-night, when you come home, you must go in all over, like a fish; for after running about like the goats you will have black feet. Now you can march along."

So she went merrily up the Alm. The wind in the night had blown away the last clouds; the sky was everywhere a deep blue, and in the midst stood the sun, shining on the green mountain; all the blue and yellow flowers opened their calyxes and looked up with gladness. Heidi jumped here and there and shouted for joy; for there were whole troops of delicate red primroses together, and yonder it was blue with gentians, and everywhere in the sunshine smiled and nodded the tender-leaved golden rock-roses. Heidi was so charmed by all these glistening, nodding flowers that she entirely forgot the goats and even Peter. She ran far ahead and then off on one side, for it shone red here and yellow there and enticed her in every direction. Wherever she went she plucked quantities of the flowers and put them into her apron, for she wanted to carry them all ​home and put them into the hay in her sleeping room, that it might look there as it did here.

So Peter had to look everywhere; and his round eyes, which did not move quickly from one place to another, had more work than they could well manage, for the goats were as bad as Heidi. They ran hither and thither, and he was obliged to whistle and shout and swing his rod continually in order to drive all the stragglers together.

"Where have you gone now, Heidi?" he called almost angrily.

"Here," sounded from some indefinite place. Peter could see no one, for Heidi was sitting on the ground behind a knoll, which was thickly covered with fragrant wild flowers. The whole air around was filled with the sweet odor, and Heidi had never breathed anything so exquisite before. She sat down among the flowers and drew in long breaths of the perfume.

"Come along!" called Peter again. "You must not fall down over the cliffs; the uncle charged me not to let you."

"Where are the cliffs?" asked Heidi without stirring from the place, for every breath of wind brought the sweet odor to the child with increasing charm.

"Up there, 'way up; we have still a long way to go; so come along now! And up at the very top sits the old robber-bird croaking."

That availed. Heidi immediately jumped up and ran to Peter with her apron full of flowers.

"You have enough now," he said, when they were ​once more climbing together; "besides, you'll stay here forever, and if you pick them all you won't have any to-morrow."

The last reason convinced Heidi; besides, her apron was already so full that there was hardly room for more, and there must be some left for to-morrow. So she went along with Peter; and the goats behaved better and hurried along without delay, for they smelt the good herbage in the distance on the high pasture land.

The pasture where Peter usually went with his goats for the day lay at the foot of the high cliff. The lower part of this was covered with bushes and fir trees, but it rose toward heaven quite bald and steep. On one side of the mountain there were deep chasms. The grandfather was quite right in warning Peter about them.

When Peter reached this spot on the heights, he took off his bag and laid it carefully in a little hollow in the ground. He knew that the wind often rushed across in strong gusts, and he did not wish to see his precious possessions roll down the mountain. Then he stretched himself out on the ground in the sunny pasture to rest from the exertion of climbing.

In the mean time Heidi had taken off her apron, rolled it up tightly with the flowers inside, and laid it close to the lunch bag. Then she sat down beside Peter and looked around her. The valley lay far below in the full morning sunshine. In front of her Heidi saw a great wide field of snow, stretching high up into the deep blue sky; on the left stood an enormous mass ​of rock, on each side of which a higher tower of bald, jagged crags rose into the azure and looked very sternly down on Heidi. The child sat as still as a mouse; everywhere there was a great, deep stillness; only the wind passed very softly and gently over the tender bluebells

and the radiant golden rock-roses, which were everywhere gaily nodding to and fro on their slender stems. Peter had gone to sleep after his exertion, and the goats were climbing among the bushes.

She drank in the golden sunlight, the fresh air, the delicate fragrance of the flowers, and desired nothing more than to remain there forever. A good while passed ​in this way, and Heidi had gazed so often and so long at the lofty mountain tops that it seemed as if they all had faces and were gazing down quite familiarly at her, like good friends.

Then she heard above her a loud, shrill screaming and croaking, and as she looked up into the air the largest bird she had ever seen in her life was flying around on wide, outstretched wings and coming back in wider circles and screaming loud and piercingly over her head.

"Peter! Peter! Wake up!" cried Heidi at the top of her voice. "See, there is the robber-bird! See! see!"

Peter jumped up at the call and looked with Heidi at the bird, which was flying higher and higher in the blue sky. Finally it disappeared over the gray cliffs.

"Where has he gone now?" asked Heidi, who had watched the bird with eager scrutiny.

"Home to his nest," was Peter's answer.

"Is his home 'way up there? Oh, how lovely to be so high up! Why does he scream so?" asked Heidi again.

"Because he can't help it," explained Peter.

"Let us climb up there and see where his home is," proposed Heidi.

"Oh! oh! oh!" burst out Peter, uttering each exclamation with more vehement disapproval; "no goat can get there, and the uncle said you must not fall over the cliff."

Then Peter suddenly began such a whistling and calling that Heidi did not know what was going to happen; ​but the goats must have understood the sound, for one after another they came jumping down until the whole flock was assembled on the green slope, some nibbling the spicy stalks, others running to and fro, and still others amusing themselves by butting one another with their horns.

Heidi jumped up and ran around among the goats. It was new and indescribably amusing to her to see how the little creatures leaped about and played together, and Heidi made the personal acquaintance of each, for every one had a quite distinct individuality and its own peculiar ways.

Meanwhile Peter had brought out the bag and nicely arranged all four of the pieces of bread and cheese on the ground in a square, the larger pieces on Heidi's side, the smaller ones on his side; he knew just how many he had. Then he took the little bowl and milked sweet, fresh milk from Schwänli into it and placed it in the middle of the square. Then he called Heidi, but he had to call longer for her than for the goats, because she was so interested and pleased with the varied gamboling and frolicking of her new playmates that she saw and heard nothing else.

But Peter knew how to make himself understood. He called till it made the rocks above echo; and Heidi appeared, and the table he had laid looked so inviting that she danced around it for joy.

"Stop jumping; it is time to eat," said Peter; "sit down and begin."

Heidi sat down.

​"Is the milk mine?" she asked, contemplating with satisfaction the neat square and the bowl in the middle.

"Yes," answered Peter, "and the two large pieces of bread and cheese are yours, too; and when you have drunk all the milk, you can have another bowlful from Schwänli, and then it is my turn."

"And where will you get your milk?" Heidi wanted to know.

"From my goat—from Schnecke. Go to eating!" commanded Peter once more.

Heidi began with her milk, and as soon as she set down her empty bowl Peter rose and filled it again. Heidi broke some of her bread into it; the rest, a piece still larger than all Peter's bread, she handed over to him, with all her large portion of cheese, and said:—

"You may have that. I have enough."

Peter looked at Heidi in speechless amazement, for never in his life had he been able to say such a thing or give anything away. He hesitated a little, for he could not really believe that Heidi was in earnest. She persisted in offering the bread and cheese, and when he did not take it, she laid it down on his knee. Then he saw that she meant it for him, seized the prize, nodded his thanks, and then made the most satisfactory dinner of his goatherd life. Meantime Heidi watched the goats.

"What are their names, Peter?" she asked.

He knew them all well enough and could keep them in his head all the better because he had little else to ​store away there. So he began and without hesitation named one after the other, pointing to each one as he did so. Heidi listened with the closest attention to his explanation, and before long she could distinguish them from one another and call each by name; for they all had their peculiarities, which any one might remember, but it was necessary to look at them closely, and she did this.

There was the big Türk with his powerful horns. He was always trying to butt all the others, and if he came near, most of them ran away and would have nothing to do with their rough comrade. The brave Distelfinck, a slender, nimble little goat, was the only one that did not avoid him, but often ran at him three or four times in succession so swiftly and skilfully that the big Türk would stand still in astonishment and make no further attack; for the Distelfinck looked very warlike and had sharp horns.

There was the little white Schneehöpli, always bleating so touchingly, so beseechingly, that Heidi ran to her again and again and put her arms around her head to comfort her. But now the child hurried to her once more, for her mournful young voice was again raised in appeal. Heidi threw her arm around the little creature's neck and asked quite sympathetically:—

"What is the matter, Schneehöpli? Why do you cry so?"

The goat trustingly pressed close to Heidi's side and became perfectly quiet.

Peter called out from where he was sitting, with ​frequent interruptions while he took a bite and a swallow:—

"She does so because the old one does n't come with her any more. They sold her and sent her to Mayenfeld day before yesterday; so she doesn't come up on the Alm any longer."

"Who is the old one?" asked Heidi.

"Why, the mother, of course," was the reply.

"Where is the grandmother?" asked Heidi again.

"Hasn't any."

"And the grandfather?"

"Hasn't any."

"You poor Schneehöpli," said Heidi, drawing the little creature tenderly towards her. "Don't cry so any more, for, you see, I will come with you every day, and then you won't be alone; and if you want anything, you can come to me."

Schneehöpli rubbed her head contentedly against Heidi's shoulder and bleated no more.

By far the prettiest and cleanest of the goats were Schwänli and Bärli, who were decidedly superior in their behavior, and usually went their own way; they especially avoided the obtrusive Türk and treated him with contempt.

The animals had begun to climb up to the bushes again, each one after his own fashion some leaping carelessly over everything, others cautiously seeking out the good herbs as they went along, while the Türk tried his horns here and there—first in one place and then in another.

​Schwänli and Bärli climbed prettily and gracefully, and whenever they found fine bushes, there they stationed themselves and browsed on them. Heidi stood with her hands behind her back, watching them all with the closest attention.

"Peter," she said to the boy, who had thrown himself down again on the ground, "the prettiest of them all are Schwänli and Bärli."

"Of course they are," was the reply. "The Alm-Uncle brushes and washes them and gives them salt and has the best shed."

Suddenly Peter jumped up and fairly leaped after the goats. Heidi ran after him; she felt that something must have happened, and she could not remain behind. Peter ran through the midst of the goats to the side of the mountain, where the rocks descended steep and bare far below, and where a careless goat, going near, might easily fall over and break all its bones. He had seen the venturesome Distelfinck jumping along in that direction; he reached there just in time, for at that instant the little goat came to the very edge of the precipice. Just as it was falling, Peter flung himself down on the ground and managed to seize one of its legs and hold it fast. Distelfinck bleated with anger and surprise, to be held so by his leg and hindered from continuing his merry course, and struggled obstinately onward. Peter screamed: "Heidi, help me!" for he could n't get up and was almost pulling off Distelfinck's leg. Heidi was already there and instantly understood their sorry plight. She quickly pulled up from the ground some fragrant ​herbs and held them under Distelfinck's nose and said soothingly:—

"Come, come, Distelfinck, you must be sensible! See, you might fall off and break your bones, and that would give you frightful pain."

The goat quickly turned around and eagerly nibbled the herbs from Heidi's hand. Meanwhile Peter had succeeded in getting on his feet and had seized the cord which held the bell around Distelfinck's neck. Heidi seized it on the opposite side, and the two together led the runaway back to the peacefully feeding flock.

When Peter had the goat in safety once more, he raised his rod to beat him soundly as a punishment, and Distelinck timidly drew back, for he saw what was going to happen. But Heidi cried:—

"No, Peter! no, you must not beat him! See how frightened he is!"

"He deserves it," snarled Peter and was going to strike the goat. But Heidi scized his arm and cried indignantly:—

"You shall not do it; it will hurt him! Let him alone!"

Peter looked in astonishment at the commanding Heidi, whose black eyes snapped at him. He reluctantly dropped his rod.

"He can go if you will give me some of your cheese again to-morrow," said Peter, yielding; for he wanted some compensation for his fright.

"You may have it all—the whole piece—to-morrow ​and every day; I do not want it," said Heidi with ready assent; "and I will give you a good part of my bread, too, as I did to-day. But then you must never, never beat Distelfinck, nor Schneehöpli, nor any of the goats."

"It's all the same to me," remarked Peter; and this was as good as a promise with him. Then he let the offender go, and the happy Distelfinck leaped high in the air and then bounded back into the flock.

Thus the day had imperceptibly passed away, and the sun was just ready to go down behind the mountains. Heidi sat down on the ground again and silently gazed at the bluebells and the rock-roses glowing in the evening light; and all the grass seemed tinted with gold, and the cliffs above began to gleam and sparkle. Suddenly Heidi jumped up and exclaimed:—

"Peter! Peter! it's on fire! It's on fire! All the mountains are burning, and the big snow field over there is on fire and the sky! Oh, see! see! The high cliff is all burning! Oh, the beautiful fiery snow! Peter, get up! See! the fire reaches up to the robber-bird! Look at the rocks! See the fir trees! Everything, everything is on fire!"

"It's always so," said Peter good-naturedly, peeling the bark from his rod; "but it is no fire."

"What is it, then?" asked Heidi, running back and forth in order to look on every side; for she could not see enough, it was so beautiful everywhere.

"What is it, Peter? what is it?" cried Heidi again.

"It comes so of itself," explained Peter.

​"Oh, see! see!" cried Heidi in great excitement; "suddenly it grows rosy red! Look at the snow and the high, pointed rocks! What are their names, Peter?"

"Mountains don't have names," he replied.

"Oh, how lovely! See the snow all rosy red! And oh, on the rocks above there are ever and ever so many roses! Oh, now they are turning gray! Oh! Oh! Now it is all gone! It is all gone, Peter!" And Heidi sat down on the ground and looked as distressed as if everything was really coming to an end.

"It will be just the same again to-morrow," explained Peter. "Get up! We must go home now."

Peter whistled and called the goats together, and they started on the homeward journey.

"Will it be like that every day—every day when we go to the pasture?" asked Heidi, listening eagerly for some decided assurance as she walked down the mountain by Peter's side.

"Usually," was the reply.

"But really to-morrow again?" she wanted to know.

"Yes; yes, to-morrow, certainly!" assured Peter.

Then Heidi was happy once more, but she had received so many impressions, and so many things were going around in her mind, that she was perfectly silent until they reached the hut and saw her grandfather. He was sitting under the fir trees, where he had also made a seat and was in the habit of waiting in the evening for his goats, which came down in this direction.

Heidi ran straight up to him, followed by Schwänli ​and Bärli; for the goats knew their master and their shed. Peter called out to Heidi:—

"Come again to-morrow! Good-night!" He was pleased to have Heidi go with him.

Heidi darted back, gave Peter her hand, and assured him that she would accompany him again; then she sprang into the midst of the departing flock, threw her arms once more around Schneehöpli's neck, and said confidingly:—

"Sleep well, Schneehöpli, and remember that I will go with you again to-morrow and that you must never bleat so mournfully again."

Schneehöpli seemed pleased and looked thankfully into Heidi's face and then leaped gaily after the other goats.

Heidi came back under the fir trees.

"Oh, grandfather, it was so beautiful!" she exclaimed even before she had reached him—"the fire and the roses on the cliffs and the blue and yellow flowers; and see what I have brought you!"

Whereupon Heidi shook all her wealth of flowers out of her folded apron in front of her grandfather. But what a sight the poor little flowers made! Heidi no longer recognized them. They were all like hay, and not a single cup was open.

"Oh, grandfather, what is the matter with them?" cried Heidi, quite shocked. "They were not like that; why do they look so now?"

"They like to stand out in the sunshine and not shut up in your apron," said the grandfather.

​"Then I will never bring any more home: But, grandfather, what made the robber-bird scream so?" asked Heidi urgently.

"You must jump into the water now, while I go to the shed and fetch the milk; afterwards we will go into the house together and have supper. Then I will tell you about it."

So it was; and later, when Heidi sat on her high stool before her little bowl of milk, next her grandfather, she again asked the question:—

"Why did the robber-bird keep croaking and screaming so, grandfather?"

"He is mocking at the people down below, because so many sit together in the villages and make one another wicked. So he mocks at them: It would be much better for you to leave one another and let each go his own way and climb up to some mountain-top, as I do!'"

The grandfather spoke these words so wildly that the robber-bird's screaming came back to Heidi's mind still more impressively.

"Why have the mountains no names, grandfather?" asked Heidi again.

"They have names," he replied; "and if you can describe one to me so that I can recognize it, I will tell you what it is called."

Then Heidi described the rocky mountain, with its two high towers, just as she had seen it, and the grandfather, well pleased, said:—

Very good! I know it; it is called Falkniss.^[1] Did you see any more?" ​Then Heidi described the mountain with the big snow field, which had been on fire, then turned rose color, and then suddenly grew pale and wan.

"I know that, too," said the grandfather; "that is the Cäsaplana. So it pleased you up in the pasture, did it?"

Then Heidi told him about everything that had happened throughout the day—how lovely it had been; and she asked her grandfather to tell her where the fire at evening had come from, for Peter had not known anything about it.

"You see," the grandfather explained, "the sun does it. When he says good-night to the mountains, he sends to them his most beautiful rays so that they may not forget him until he comes back again in the morning."

This pleased Heidi, and she could hardly wait for another day to come so that she could go up to the pasture and see once more how the sun said good-night to the mountains. But first she had to go to sleep, and she slept soundly the whole night long on her bed of hay and dreamed of bright, shining mountains and their red roses, in the midst of which Schneehöpli merrily ran and jumped.