Heidi (1899)/Part 2/Chapter 3

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Early the next morning the doctor climbed the mountain from Dörfli in company with Peter and his goats. In a friendly spirit he tried several times to enter into conversation with the goat boy, but he did not succeed in getting more than the briefest answers to his leading questions. Peter was not so easily led into conversation. So the whole company traveled in silence up to the Alm hut, where Heidi already stood waiting with her two goats, all three as lively and glad as the early sunshine on the heights.

"Coming too?" asked Peter, for he said this every morning either as a question or a summons.

"To be sure, of course, if the doctor will come with us," replied Heidi.

Peter looked a little askance at the gentleman.

Then the grandfather came out, bringing the dinner bag in his hand. He first greeted the doctor with great respect, then went to Peter and hung the bag over his shoulder.

It was heavier than usual, for the uncle had put in a good piece of the dried meat; he thought possibly the doctor might like it up in the pasture, and he would enjoy his dinner there at the same time with the chil​dren. Peter's mouth spread almost from one ear to the other with a grin of satisfaction, for he suspected that there was something unusual inside.

The journey up the mountain was now begun. Heidi was completely surrounded by the goats; each one wanted to be next her, and they kept pushing one another to one side. So she remained for some time in the midst of the flock, struggling with them. Then she stood still and said:—

"Now please run away and don't keep coming back and pushing and jostling me; I must go with the doctor a little while now."

Then she patted Schneehöpli gently on the back, for she still kept close to her side, and bade her especially to be very obedient. Then she made her way out of the flock and ran to the side of the doctor, who seized her hand at once and held it fast. He had no difficulty in getting Heidi to talk; she immediately began and had so much to tell him about the goats and their remarkable doings, and about the flowers up there and the rocks and the birds, that before they knew it they had reached the pasture.

As they climbed the mountain, Peter had frequently cast at the doctor sidelong glances, which might really have terrified him, but fortunately he did not see them.

When they reached the end of their journey, Heidi took her kind friend to the loveliest spot of all, where she always went, sat down on the ground, and looked around; this was her favorite place.

​The doctor dropped down beside her on the sunny pasture ground. Round about the golden autumn sun shone over the peaks and the distant green valley. Everywhere from the mountains below came the sound of the goat bells, so lovely and delightful, as if announcing sweet peace far and wide. The golden sunbeams flashed sparkling and glistening here and there on the great snow fields above, and the gray Falkniss lifted its towers of rock in lofty majesty far up into the deep blue sky. The morning breeze blew gently and deliciously over the mountain and softly stirred the last bluebells, still remaining from the great multitude of the summer, and cheerfully nodding their little heads in the warm sunshine. The great robber-bird flew around in wide circles above, but to-day he did not scream; with outspread wings he floated peacefully through the blue and took his ease.

Heidi gazed first one way and then another. The gay nodding flowers, the blue sky, the merry sunshine, the contented bird in the air, all were so beautiful, so beautiful! Heidi's eyes sparkled with delight. She looked at her friend to see whether he, too, understood how beautiful it was. Until now the doctor had been looking around him silently and wrapt in thought. As he met the child's beaming eyes he said:—

"Yes, Heidi, it is beautiful here; but what do you think? If you brought a sad heart, how could you make it well, so that you could enjoy all this beauty?"

"Oh, oh!" exclaimed Heidi quite gayly; "nobody ever has a sad heart here,—only in Frankfurt."

​A smile passed over the doctor's face, but it quickly vanished. Then he added:—

"And supposing some one should come and bring all his sorrow with him up here from Frankfurt, Heidi; do you know of anything that could help him then?"

"He must tell everything to the dear Lord, if he does not know what to do," said Heidi with perfect assurance.

"Yes, that is really a good thought, child," observed the doctor. "But if what makes you so very sad and miserable comes from Him, what can you say to the dear Lord?"

Heidi had to think what ought to be done in such a case; but she was very certain that one could obtain help from the dear Lord for every sorrow. She sought a reply from her own experience.

"Then you must wait," she said after a while with assurance, "and keep thinking: Surely now the dear Lord knows some joy which is to come out of this by and by, so I must be still for a little and not run away from Him. Then all at once it will happen so that you will see quite clearly that the dear Lord had nothing but good in His mind all the time; but because you could not see it so at first, and only had the terrible sorrow all the time before you, you thought it would always remain so."

"That is a beautiful faith, and you must hold it fast, Heidi," said the doctor. For some time he gazed silently at the mighty mountains of rock and down into the green sunlit valley; then he continued:—

​"You see, Heidi, you might sit here with a great shade over your eyes, so that you could not take in the beauty all about. Then indeed would your heart be sad, doubly sad, where it is so beautiful. Can you understand that?"

A pain shot through Heidi's happy heart. The great shade over the eyes reminded her of the grandmother, who could never again see the bright sun and all the beauty up there. To Heidi it was a grief that was always revived as often as the fact occurred to her. She remained perfectly silent for some time, for the pain had so broken into the midst of her joy. Then she said earnestly:—

"Yes, indeed, I can understand that. But I know something; then you must say the grandmother's hymns, and they will give you a little light, and perhaps so much light that you will become quite happy. The grandmother said so."

"What hymns, Heidi?" asked the doctor.

"I know only the one about the sun and the beautiful garden, and the verses the grandmother likes from the other long one, for I always have to read it three times," replied Heidi.

"Just tell me these verses, I should like to hear them." And the doctor sat up straight at once to listen attentively.

Heidi folded her hands and collected her thoughts for a little.

"Shall I begin where the grandmother says that trust returns to one's heart?"

​The doctor nodded assent.

Then Heidi began:—

Heidi stopped suddenly, for she was not sure that the doctor was still listening. He had laid his hand over his eyes and was sitting motionless. She thought perhaps he had fallen asleep; so if he should wake up and care to hear more verses she would repeat them to ​him. Everything was still. The doctor said nothing, but he was not asleep. He had been carried back to days of long ago. He stood as a little boy beside his dear mother's chair; she had placed her arm around his neck and was repeating the hymn which Heidi had

just repeated, and which he had not heard for so long. Now he heard his mother's voice again and saw her gentle eyes resting on him so lovingly, and when the words of the hymn had ceased, the kind voice seemed to be speaking still other words to him; he must have enjoyed listening to them and have gone far back in his thoughts, for he sat there for a long while, silent ​and motionless, with his face buried in his hands. When he finally rose he noticed that Heidi was looking at him in amazement. He took the child's hand in his.

"Heidi, your hymn was beautiful," he said; and his voice sounded more cheerful than it had been before. "We will come up here another day, and you shall repeat it to me once more."

During all this time Peter was having enough to do in giving vent to his vexation. Heidi had not been with him up to the pasture for several days, and now that she had finally come this old gentleman sat beside her the whole time, and Peter could not come near her at all. This greatly annoyed him. He took his place at a distance higher up, where the unsuspecting gentleman could not see him, and here he first doubled up one fist and shook it, and after a while he doubled up both fists, and the longer Heidi remained sitting beside the doctor, the more frantically Peter doubled up his fists and the higher and more threateningly he raised them in the air behind the gentleman's back.

Meanwhile the sun had reached the point where it stands when it is time for the midday meal; this Peter knew well enough. Suddenly he screamed down with all his might to the others:—

"We must have something to eat!"

Heidi rose and was going to get the bag, so that the doctor could have his dinner just where he was sitting. But he said he was not hungry; he wanted nothing but a glass of milk to drink, and then he would like to ​go about a little more on the mountain and climb somewhat higher. Then Heidi discovered that she was not hungry either, and that she cared for only a glass of milk, after which she would like to take the doctor to the big moss-covered rock, high up, where Distelfinck had almost jumped over, and where all the spicy herbs grew. She ran to Peter and explained it all to him, how he must first take a bowl of milk from Schwänli for the doctor and another for herself. At first Peter looked at Heidi for some time in amazement, then he asked:—

"Who is to have what is in the bag?"

"You may have it, but you must get the milk first and be quick about it," was Heidi's reply.

Peter had never done anything in his life so quickly as he accomplished this task, for he saw the bag constantly before him, and he did not know how its contents looked, and yet it belonged to him. As soon as the two others had drunk their milk, Peter opened the bag and took a look into it. When he saw the wonderful piece of meat his whole body trembled with delight, and he looked into the bag again to make sure that it was really true. Then he put his hand in to take out the welcome gift and enjoy it. But suddenly he put his hand back, as if he dared not take it. He recalled how he had stood there behind the doctor and shook his fists at him, and now the same gentleman had given him all his splendid dinner. Then Peter was sorry for what he had done, for it seemed as if it hindered him from taking his fine present and enjoying it. Suddenly ​he jumped up and ran back to the place where he had been standing, stretched both his hands wide open up in the air, as a sign that his clinched fists meant nothing, and so remained standing there for some time until he felt that his deed was atoned for. Then he took great leaps back to the bag; for now that his conscience was clear he could eat his unusually nice dinner with perfect enjoyment.

The doctor and Heidi wandered about together for a long while and enjoyed each other's company. Then the doctor found that it was time for him to go back, and thought that the child would like to stay a little longer with her goats. But Heidi had no such idea, for then the doctor would have to go alone down the whole length of the mountain. She would walk with him as far as her grandfather's hut, and even farther. She went hand in hand with her good friend, and had all the way a great deal to tell him and show him; she wanted him to see all the places where the goats liked best to feed, and where grew the greatest number of bright yellow wild roses and red centauries and other flowers to be found in the summer time. She knew them all, for her grandfather had taught her their names.

But at last the doctor said he must go. They bade each other good-night, and as he went down the mountain he turned every little while to look back, and saw Heidi still standing in the same place, gazing after him and waving her hand to him. Just so had his own dear little daughter done when he went away from his house. ​It was a clear sunny autumn month. Every morning the doctor came up on the mountain, and then there was a delightful excursion farther up. Often he went off with the Alm-Uncle far up into the craggy mountains, where the old weather-beaten fir trees were; the great robber-bird must have had his nest near by, for he often whizzed past, whirring and croaking, close to the heads of the two men.

The doctor took great pleasure in his companion's society, and was more and more amazed to see how familiar the uncle was with all the plants around on his mountain, and how well he knew what they were good for, and how many valuable and good things he discovered everywhere up there, in the pitchy fir trees and the sombre pines with their fragrant needles, in the crinkled moss, sprouting out between the roots of the old trees, and in all the delicate little plants and modest flowers, still growing quite high up in the nourishing mountain soil.

The old man was equally familiar with the life and habits of all the animals up there, both great and small, and he had very amusing things to tell the doctor about the ways of these little creatures living in holes in the rocks, caves, and even the branches of the lofty fir trees.

The doctor did not know where the time went on these excursions, and often at evening when he shook the uncle's hand heartily at parting, he would say:—

"My good friend, I never go away from you without learning something new."

​But on many days, and usually on the finest, the doctor chose to go with Heidi. Then the two would often sit together on the lovely cliff where they sat the first day, and Heidi had to repeat her hymns and tell the doctor what she knew. And Peter would often sit behind them in his place, but he was now quite peaceable and no longer shook his fists at them.

Thus the lovely month of September came to an end. Then one morning the doctor came, looking less happy than usual. He said it was his last day, and he must go back to Frankfurt; this grieved him very much, for he had become as fond of the mountain as if it were his own home. This news pained the Alm-Uncle also, for he had particularly enjoyed the doctor's company, and Heidi had become so accustomed to see her beloved friend every day that she could not understand that the pleasure was now suddenly coming to an end. She looked up at him inquiringly and quite amazed. But it was really so. The doctor bade her grandfather farewell and then asked if Heidi would go with him a little way. With her hand in his she went down the mountain, but she could not fully realize that he was really going away.

After a while the doctor stood still and said that Heidi had come far enough, and she must turn back. He pressed his hand tenderly over the child's curly hair two or three times and said:—

"Now I must go, Heidi! If only I could take you to Frankfurt and could keep you with me!"

All Frankfurt suddenly rose before Heidi's eyes, its ​many, many houses and stony streets, as well as Fräulein Rottenmeier and Tinette, and she answered somewhat timidly:—

"I would rather have you come back to us again."

"Well, yes, perhaps it would be better, so good-bye, Heidi," said the doctor kindly, holding out his hand to her. Heidi laid hers in it and looked up at her departing friend. The kind eyes which looked down at her filled with tears. Then the doctor turned quickly and hastened down the mountain.

Heidi remained standing and did not stir. The beloved eyes and the tears which she saw in them went straight to her heart. Suddenly she burst into loud weeping and rushed with all her might after the fast disappearing doctor and called between her sobs as loudly as she could:—

"Doctor! Doctor!"

He turned around and stood still.

The child had now reached him. The tears streamed down her cheeks while she sobbed out:—

"I will truly go with you to Frankfurt now, and I will stay with you as long as you like, but I must hurry back to tell my grandfather."

The doctor soothingly caressed the excited child.

"No, my dear Heidi," he said in the kindest tone, "not now; you must stay longer under the fir trees, for you might be sick again if you went with me. But come, I want to ask you something: if I am ever sick and alone, will you come to me then and stay with me? ​Can I think that then some one will care for me and love me?"

"Yes, yes; then I will surely come to you, the very same day; and I love you almost as well as my grandfather," said Heidi decidedly, still sobbing.

Then the doctor pressed her hand once more and hurried on his way. But Heidi remained standing in the same spot, waving her hand again and again, until the form of her friend, as he hastened away, was a mere speck in the distance. When he turned round for the last time and looked back at Heidi, waving her hand, and the sunny mountain, he said softly to himself:—

"It is good to be on the mountain; body and soul get well there, and life becomes happy again."