Heidi (1899)/Part 2/Chapter 6

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May had come. From every height the overflowing brooks were rushing down into the valley. Warm, bright sunshine lay on the mountain. It had grown green again; the last traces of snow had melted away and the first little flowers, awakened by the alluring sunbeams, were peeping up with their bright eyes out of the fresh grass. The joyous spring wind blew through the fir trees and shook off the old, dark needles, so that the young, bright green ones could come out and dress the trees in splendor. High above the old robber-bird was swinging his wings in the blue air, and around the Alm hut the golden sunshine lay warm on the ground, drying up the last damp places so that one could sit down wherever one liked.

Heidi was on the mountain again. She ran here and there and could not tell which spot was the loveliest. Now she had to listen to the wind as it blew down deep and mysterious from the cliffs above, coming nearer and growing mightier, and then leaping into the fir trees, bending and shaking them until it seemed as if it were shouting with delight; and Heidi had to shout too, while she was blown hither and thither like a little leaf. Then she would run back to the sunny spot in ​front of the house, sit down on the ground and peep into the short grass to see how many flower-cups were going to open or were open already. So many gay gnats and little beetles were hopping and crawling and dancing about in the sun and enjoying themselves, and Heidi was happy with them, and drew in long breaths of the spring fragrance, which came up out of the fresh earth. It seemed even more beautiful on the mountain than ever before. The thousand little creatures must have liked it as well as she did, for it seemed exactly as if they were all humming and singing for sheer delight: "On the Alm! On the Alm! On the Alm!"

From the workshop behind the house, every now and then, came the sound of busy hammering and sawing, and Heidi listened, for it was the old familiar sound she knew so well, and which she had heard ever since she came to live on the Alm. She had to jump up and run at once to the shop, for she wished to know what her grandfather was doing. In front of the workshop door there was standing a fine new stool already finished, and her grandfather was working skilfully on another.

"Oh, I know what that is for!" exclaimed Heidi with delight. "That will be needed when they come from Frankfurt. It is for the grandmamma, and the one you are making now is for Klara, and then—then there will have to be one more," continued Heidi hesitatingly; "or do you think, grandfather, that Fräulein Rotten-meier will not come with them?"

​"That I can't say now," said her grandfather, "but it will be safer to have one ready, so that we can invite her to sit down if she comes."

Heidi looked critically at the little wooden stool and quietly considered how it would suit Fräulein Rottenmeier. After a while she said doubtfully, shaking her head:—

"Grandfather, I don't believe she would sit on it."

"Then we will invite her to the sofa with the beautiful green grass covering," replied the grandfather quietly.

As Heidi was thinking where the beautiful sofa with the green grass covering could be, suddenly there sounded from above a whistling and calling and rod swinging through the air, so that Heidi knew at once what it was. She ran out and was surrounded in a twinkling by the leaping goats. They must have been as glad as Heidi to be up on the mountain again, for they jumped higher and bleated more merrily than they had ever done before, and Heidi was pushed back and forth by them, for each one was anxious to get next to her and express its delight. But Peter pushed them all away, some to the right and others to the left, for he had a message to give to Heidi. When he had made his way to her, he held out a letter toward her.

"There!" he said, leaving Heidi to find out the rest for herself. She was very much surprised.

"Did you find a letter for me up in the pasture?" she asked in great astonishment.

"No," was the answer.

​"Well, where did you get it, then, Peter?"

"Out of the lunch bag."

That was so. The evening before the postmaster in Dörfli had given him the letter for Heidi. Peter had put it in the empty bag. In the morning he had put his cheese and his piece of bread on top of it and had started off. He had seen the uncle and Heidi when he went to get their goats; at noon, when he had finished his bread and cheese and was going to shake the crumbs out of the bag, the letter fell into his hand.

Heidi read the address carefully; then she ran back to her grandfather in the shop and held out the letter to him in high glee.

"From Frankfurt! From Klara! Will you hear it now, grandfather?"

He was very ready to hear it, and so was Peter, who had followed Heidi. He leaned his back against the doorpost in order to have a firm support while she read her letter, as it was easier to follow Heidi so.

When Peter heard these words he ran away from the door post and struck out right and left so recklessly ​and furiously with his rod that the goats, in the greatest terror, all took to flight and ran down the mountain, making such enormous leaps as they had seldom done before. Peter rushed after them beating the air with his rod, as if he had to vent his great spite on some invisible enemy. This enemy was the prospect of guests coming from Frankfurt, and this was what had so enraged him.

Heidi was so full of happiness and joy that she really had to go to visit the grandmother the next day and tell her all about it—who were coming from Frankfurt, and also who were not coming. This was of the greatest importance to the grandmother, for she knew all the people so well and always felt the greatest interest in everything that concerned Heidi's life. So early on the following afternoon Heidi started; for now she could go alone once more to make her visits, for the sun was shining brightly again and remained longer in the sky, and there was a fine mountain path over the dry ground; while the joyous May wind blew behind her and pushed her along faster and faster.

The grandmother was no longer in bed. She was sitting once more in the corner spinning. But there was an expression on her face as if she had troublesome thoughts. It had been there since the evening before; and the whole night long these thoughts had followed her and kept her from sleeping. Peter had come home in the midst of his great anger, and she had understood from his broken outcries that a crowd of people from Frankfurt was coming up to the Alm hut. What would ​happen afterwards he did not know; but the grandmother could not help thinking about it, and it was just these thoughts which had troubled her and kept her from sleeping.

Heidi ran in, went straight to the grandmother, sat down on the little footstool which always stood there, and told her all that she knew with such eagerness that she herself began to realize it even more. But all of a sudden she stopped in the middle of a sentence and asked with concern:—

"What is the matter, grandmother? don't you like all this a single bit?"

"Yes, yes, Heidi, I am glad for you, because it will give you so much pleasure," she answered, trying to look a little happier.

"But, grandmother, I can see very well that it troubles you. Do you think Fräulein Rottenmeier will come with them?" asked Heidi, feeling somewhat anxious herself.

"No, no! it is nothing, it is nothing!" said the grandmother soothingly. "Let me take your hand for a little, Heidi, so that I can feel that you are still here. It will be a good thing for you, even if I don't live to see that day."

"I don't care for what is best for me, if you are not going to live to see it, grandmother," said Heidi, so decidedly that suddenly a new fear arose in the old dame's mind; she must take it for granted that the people from Frankfurt were coming to take Heidi away; for now that she was well once more they would ​surely want to take her back with them. This was a great grief to the grandmother. But she felt that she ought not to say anything about it before Heidi; she would be so sorry for her that she would perhaps object to going, and that must not be. She sought for some remedy, but not long, for she knew but one.

"I know something, Heidi," she then said, "that will make me feel better and bring me good thoughts again. Read me the hymn where it begins, 'God will bring.'"

Heidi had now become so familiar with the old hymn book that she at once found the place the grandmother desired and read in a clear voice:—

"Yes, yes, that is exactly what I want to hear," said the grandmother, relieved, and the expression of distress disappeared from her face. Heidi looked at her thoughtfully and then said:—

"Grandmother, does wholesome mean when everything is cured so that one is entirely well again?"

"Yes, yes, that is what it will be," said the grandmother, nodding in assent; "and because the dear Lord will make it so; we can be sure how it will come out. Read it once more, Heidi, so that we can fix it in our minds and not forget it."

​Heidi read the lines over again, and then twice more, for the thought of safety pleased her so much.

When evening came and Heidi was climbing up the mountain again, one little star after another came out and sparkled and twinkled down at her, and it seemed exactly as if each one wanted to send a new beam of great delight into her heart, and Heidi had to stand still every moment and look up, and when they all in every part of the sky looked down with still greater delight, she had to exclaim quite loudly:—

"I know now, because the dear Lord knows so well what is best, we can have such joy and be perfectly safe!"

And the little stars all twinkled and sparkled and winked at Heidi, until she reached the hut, where her grandfather was standing, and also gazing up at the stars, for they had not shone so beautifully for a long time.

Not only the nights but also the days in this month of May were brighter and clearer than they had been for many years, and the grandfather often looked out in the morning in surprise to see how the sun was coming up again in a cloudless sky, that the sunrise was as glorious as the sunset, and he would repeat:—

"It is a remarkably sunny year; it will make the pasturage very rich. Take care, leader, that your leapers don't get too wild from the good feed!"

Then Peter would swing his rod boldly in the air, and the answer was plainly written on his face:—

"I'll be a match for them."

So the verdant May soon passed and June came with ​its still warmer sun and long, long, light days, alluring all the flowers on the whole mountain to come out, so that they shone and glowed everywhere, and filled the air all about with their sweet fragrance. This month too was drawing to an end when one morning Heidi, having already finished her morning tasks, came running out of the hut. She hurried out under the fir trees and then a little higher up to see if the big centaury bush was in bloom, for the little flowers were enchantingly lovely with the sun shining through them. But as Heidi was running around the hut she suddenly screamed with all her might so loud that the uncle came out of his shop, for it was something unusual.

"Grandfather! grandfather!" cried the child as if beside herself. "Come here! come here! Seel see!"

The grandfather came at her call, and his eyes followed the excited child's outstretched arm.

A strange procession, such as had never been seen there before, was winding up the Alm. First came two men with a sedan chair in which sat a young girl wrapped up in ever so many shawls. Then came a horse on which sat a stately lady, who was looking with great interest in every direction and talking eagerly with the young guide walking by her side. Then came an empty wheel chair, pushed by another young fellow, for the invalid to whom it belonged could be carried more securely up the steep mountain in the sedan chair. Last of all walked a porter, who had so many wraps, shawls, and furs piled up in the basket on his back that they reached high above his head.

​"There they are! There they are!" screamed Heidi, jumping up in the air with delight. They really were coming. They came nearer and nearer and at last they were there. The porter put the chair down on the ground. Heidi ran to it and the two children greeted

each other with immense delight. Then the grandmamma arrived and dismounted from the horse. Heidi ran to her and was embraced with great tenderness. Then the grandmamma turned toward the Alm-Uncle, who had come to welcome her. There was no formality in their greeting, for she knew him and he knew her as well as if they had been acquainted for a long time.

​As soon as the first words of greeting had been said, the grandmamma exclaimed with great enthusiasm:—

"My dear uncle, what a splendid situation you have ! Who would have believed it! Many a king might envy you! How well my Heidi looks! Like a little June rose!" she continued, drawing the child to her and stroking her fresh cheeks. "How glorious it is everywhere all about! What do you say, Klärchen, my child; what do you say?"

Klara was looking around her perfectly enchanted; she had never seen anything, never imagined anything like it in all her life.

"Oh, how beautiful it is here! Oh, how beautiful it is here!" she exclaimed again and again. "I never imagined it. Oh, grandmamma, I should like to stay here!"

Meanwhile the uncle had pushed along the wheel chair, taken some shawls out of the basket, and arranged them in it. Then he stepped up to the sedan chair.

"If we should put the little daughter in her accustomed chair now, it would be better for her; the traveling chair is a little hard," he said; and without waiting for any one to assist him, at once lifted the little invalid gently in his strong arms out of the straw chair and placed her with the greatest care in the soft seat. Then he laid the shawls over her knees and wrapped her feet as comfortably on the cushion as if he had done nothing else all his life but care for invalids who could not use their limbs. The grandmamma looked at him in the greatest astonishment.

​Then she exclaimed:—

"My dear uncle, if I knew where you learned to care for the sick, I would send all the nurses I know there to take lessons. How is it possible?"

The uncle smiled a little. "It comes more from experience than from study," he replied; but in spite of the smile a look of sadness came over his face. Out of the remote past before his eyes rose the suffering face of a man who used to sit wrapped up in a chair just like this, and was so crippled that he could hardly use a limb. It was his captain, whom he had found lying on the ground after a fierce battle in Sicily, and had carried off the field; and from that time the captain would allow no other nurse around him, and would never let him out of his sight, until his great sufferings came to an end. The uncle saw his sick friend before him again; his only thought now was that it would be his duty to care for sick Klara and show her all those comforting attentions he understood so well.

The sky spread deep blue and cloudless above the hut and the fir trees and high above the lofty cliffs which towered up so gray and sparkling. Klara could not look around enough; she was perfectly fascinated with all that she saw.

"Oh, Heidi, if I could only go around with you, about the hut and under the fir trees!" she exclaimed longingly. "If I could go with you to look at all the things I have heard so much about and have n't yet seen!"

Then Heidi made a great effort and succeeded in ​rolling the chair smoothly over the dry, grassy ground under the fir trees. Here she paused. Klara had never seen anything in her life like the tall old fir trees whose long, wide-spreading branches grew down to the ground and became larger and thicker there. The grandmamma, who had followed the children, also stood still in great admiration. She could not tell which was the more beautiful, the full roaring tops of the ancient trees, high up in the blue sky, or their straight, strong trunks, which with their mighty branches could tell of so many, many years while they had been standing there and looking down into the valley where men came and went and everything else was constantly changing, but they always remained the same.

Meanwhile, Heidi pushed the wheel chair in front of the goat-shed and opened the little door wide, so that Klara could see everything inside. There was really not much to see now, for the goats were not at home. Klara called back quite regretfully:—

"Oh, grandmamma, if I could just wait for Schwänli and Bärli and all the other goats, and Peter! I can never see them all if we always have to go away as early as you said; it is such a shame!"

"Dear child, we will enjoy all the beautiful things that are here, and not think about those that are wanting," was the grandmamma's advice, as she followed the chair, which Heidi was now pushing back.

"Oh, the flowers!" exclaimed Klara; "whole bushes of fine red flowers, and all the nodding bluebells! Oh, if I could only go and get some!"

​Heidi immediately ran and brought back to her a great bunch of them.

"But this is nothing, Klara," she said, laying the flowers in her lap. "If you could come up to the pasture with us once, then you would see something! In one place there are so many, many bushes of red centauries and ever so many more bluebells than here, and so many thousand bright yellow wild roses that it looks as if the ground was shining with pure gold. And then there are some with large leaves, which my grandfather says are called heliopsis, and, besides, the brown ones, you know, with little round heads, which smell so good,—and it is so beautiful! If you once sit down there, you can never get up again, it is so lovely!"

Heidi's eyes sparkled with longing to see what she described, and Klara was so excited by it that out of her gentle blue eyes there shone a complete reflection of Heidi's fiery enthusiasm.

"Oh, grandmamma, can I go up there? Do you think I could go so high?" she asked eagerly. "Oh, if I could only go, Heidi, and climb around everywhere on the mountain with you!"

"I will push you," said Heidi soothingly; and to show how easily it went she took such a run around the corner that the chair almost ran away from her down the mountain. But her grandfather was standing near and stopped its course just in time.

During their visit to the fir trees the grandfather had not been idle. The table and necessary chairs were ​standing by the bench in front of the hut and everything was ready; the good dinner was still steaming in the kettle and roasting on the big fork over the fire inside the hut. It was not long before the grandfather had everything on the table and the whole company sat down gladly to the meal.

The grandmamma was perfectly enchanted at this dining-room, from which one could see far, far down into the valley and above all the mountains into the blue sky. A cool, mild breeze gently fanned the faces of the guests and rustled as pleasantly in the fir trees as if it had been especially ordered music for the feast.

"Nothing like this has ever happened to me. It is really glorious!" exclaimed the grandmamma again and again. "But what do I see?" she added in the greatest surprise. "I believe you are taking a second piece of toasted cheese, Klärchen!"

Sure enough, a second golden shining piece of cheese lay on Klara's slice of bread.

"Oh, it tasted so good, grandmamma,—better than everything on the table at Ragatz," asserted Klara, taking the appetizing dish with great relish.

"Eat away! Eat away!" said the Alm-Uncle, well pleased. "It is our mountain air, which succeeds when the cook fails."

So the happy meal went on. The grandmamma and the Alm-Uncle took a great liking to each other, and their conversation became more and more lively. They agreed in all their opinions about men and things and the progress of the world as well as if they had been ​friends for years. Thus the time passed until the grandmamma suddenly looked toward the west and said:—

"We must soon be getting ready, Klärchen; the sun is already going down; the people will be back with the horse and the chair."

Immediately an expression of sadness came over Klara's happy face and she asked urgently:—

"Oh, grandmamma, just one hour more, or two! We haven't seen the hut yet, or Heidi's bed and all their other arrangements. Oh, if the day were only ten hours longer!"

"That is not possible," said the grandmamma; but she too wanted to see the hut. So they rose at once from the table, and the uncle directed the chair with steady hand to the door. But here it would go no farther; the chair was much too wide to go through the opening. The uncle did not stop long to consider. He lifted Klara out and carried her in his strong arms into the hut.

The grandmamma went back and forth looking carefully at all the furnishings, and was greatly amused at the domestic contrivances which were so prettily arranged and well ordered.

"That is surely your bed up above there, Heidi, is it not?" she then asked, and straightway, without any timidity, climbed the little ladder leading to the hayloft.

"Oh, how sweet it smells! It must be a healthful sleeping room!" and the grandmamma went to the window and peeped through.

​The grandfather followed with Klara in his arms, and Heidi came on behind.

They then all stood around Heidi's beautifully made hay bed, and the grandmamma looked at it quite critically, every now and then drawing in with delight deep breaths of the spicy fragrance of the new hay. Klara was perfectly charmed with Heidi's sleeping place.

"Oh, Heidi, what a jolly place you have here! From your bed you can see straight out into the sky, and you have such a lovely odor around you, and you can hear the fir trees roar outside. Oh, I have never seen such a jolly, pleasant sleeping room before!"

The uncle then looked over at the grandmamma.

"I have an idea," he said, "if your grandmamma will listen to me and not be opposed to the plan. I think if we could keep the daughter up here a little while she would gain new strength. You have brought so many shawls and wraps out of which we could arrange an entirely separate soft bed, and your grandmamma need have no anxiety about the care of the little daughter; that I will undertake myself."

Klara and Heidi both shouted with joy like two escaped birds, and the grandmamma's face lighted up with sunshine.

"My dear uncle, you are a wonderful man!" she exclaimed. "How did you know what I was just thinking about? I was saying to myself: 'Would n't a stay up here give the child especial strength? But the nursing! the care! the inconvenience to the host!' ​And here you spoke of it as if it would be nothing at all. I must thank you, my dear uncle, I must thank you with my whole heart!" and the grandmamma shook the uncle's hand again and again, and the uncle also shook hers with great delight.

The uncle immediately began to carry out his plan. He carried Klara back to her chair in front of the hut; Heidi followed, not knowing how high she wanted to jump in her delight. Then he piled up all the shawls and fur robes in his arms and said, smiling with satisfaction:—

"It is a good thing that grandmamma brought enough things for a winter campaign; we can use them."

"My dear uncle," she replied, approaching briskly, "foresight is an excellent virtue, and protection from many an evil. If one escapes storm and wind and violent rains in traveling over your mountains, one may be thankful; and so we are, and my wraps may be useful yet; about that we are agreed."

During this little conversation the two climbed up to the hayloft and began to spread the shawls, one after another, over the bed. There were so many that the bed finally looked like a little fortress.

"Now let a single wisp of hay stick through if it can," said the grandmamma, while she pressed her hand on all sides; but the soft wall was so impenetrable that nothing really could stick through. Then she climbed down the ladder quite satisfied and went out to the children, who were sitting close together with beaming faces, and planning what they would do from morning ​till night, as long as Klara stayed on the mountain. But how long would that be? That was now the great question, which was at once laid before the grandmamma. She said the grandfather knew best about that; they must ask him. As he happened along just then the question was put to him, and he said he thought that in about four weeks it would be safe to judge whether the mountain air would do its duty by the little daughter or not. Then the children shouted aloud, for the prospect of being together so long surpassed all their expectations.

The porters with the chair and the guide with the horse were now seen coming up the mountain. The first were allowed to turn around again immediately.

When the grandmamma was preparing to mount the horse, Klara exclaimed cheerfully:—

"Oh, grandmamma, we won't say farewell, if you are going away, for you will come back every little while to visit us on the mountain, to see what we are doing; and that will be so delightful, won't it, Heidi?"

Heidi, who had had one pleasure after another that day, could only express her assent by jumping high with delight.

Then the grandmamma mounted the steady beast, and the uncle took the bridle and led the horse safely down the steep mountain. Although the grandmamma tried not to have him go so far, it was of no use; the uncle explained that he was anxious to accompany her as far as Dörfli, for the mountain was so steep and the ride not free from danger.

​The grandmamma thought that now she was by herself she would not stay in Dörffi, where it was lonely. She would return to Ragatz and take the journey up the mountain occasionally from there.

Before the uncle returned, Peter came along with his goats. When they noticed Heidi they all rushed toward her; in a moment Klara in her chair, together with Heidi, was in the midst of the flock, and some one goat was always crowding and pushing to see over another, and each was immediately called and presented by Heidi to Klara.

So it happened that in a very short time Klara had made the long-wished-for acquaintance with Schneehöpli, the jolly Distelfinck, the grandfather's clean goats, and all the rest, up to the big Türk. But Peter meanwhile stood aside and threw occasional threatening glances at happy Klara.

When the children both called out pleasantly to him: "Good-night, Peter!" he made no reply, but raised his rod angrily in the air, as if he would like to beat them to pieces. Then he ran away, with his followers after him.

Now came an end to all the lovely things Klara had seen that day on the mountain.

When she lay on her great soft bed in the hayloft, to which Heidi had also climbed, she looked through the round, open window, out at the twinkling stars, and, completely charmed, exclaimed:—

"Oh, Heidi, see, it is just as if we were riding in the sky in a high carriage!"

​"Yes, and do you know why the stars are so full of joy, and wink at us so with their eyes?" asked Heidi.

"No, I don't know; what do you think about it?" asked Klara.

"Because they see up in heaven how well the dear Lord directs everything for people, so that they need have no anxiety and can be safe, because everything will happen for the best. That delights them so; see how they wink, that we may be happy too! But do you know, Klara, we must not forget our prayers; we must ask the dear Lord to think of us, when he is directing everything so well, that we may always be safe and never be afraid of anything."

So the children sat up in bed and said their evening prayer. Then Heidi laid her head on her round arm and was asleep in a moment. But Klara stayed awake for a long time, for she had never seen anything so wonderful in her life as this sleeping room in the starlight.

Moreover she had hardly ever seen the stars, for she never went outside the house at night, and indoors the thick curtains were drawn long before the stars came out. Now whenever she closed her eyes she had to open them again once more to see if the two big bright stars were still shining in and winking as remarkably as Heidi had said. And it was always so, and Klara could not look enough at their twinkling and sparkling, until at last her eyes closed of themselves, and in her dreams she still saw the two big shining stars.