Heidi (1899)/Part 2/Chapter 8

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Very early the next morning the uncle came out of the hut and looked around to see what the day was going to be.

On the lofty mountain peaks lay a reddish-golden light; a cool breeze was beginning to rock the branches of the fir trees to and fro; the sun was coming up.

For a while the old man stood earnestly watching how, after the high mountain tops, the green hills began to shine golden, and then the dark shadows gently faded away from the valley and a rosy light flowed in, and both heights and depths gleamed in the morning gold. The sun was up.

Then the uncle brought the wheel chair out of the shop, placed it ready for the journey in front of the hut, and afterwards went in to tell the children how beautiful the morning had dawned, and to bring them out.

Just then Peter came climbing up the mountain. His goats did not come as trustfully as usual by his side, and close in front of him and behind, up the mountain, they sprang timidly around here and there, for Peter kept striking about him without any occasion, like a madman; and wherever he hit he hurt. Peter had reached the highest point of anger and bitterness. ​For weeks he had not had Heidi to himself, as usual. When he came up in the morning, the strange child had always been brought out in her chair, and Heidi was occupied with her. When he came down at evening, the wheel chair with its occupant was still standing under the fir trees, and Heidi was busy doing something for her. She had not been up to the pasture all summer long, and now to-day she was coming, but with the chair and the stranger in it, and would devote herself to her the whole time. Peter saw how it would be, and it had brought his secret anger to a climax. He noticed the chair standing there so proudly on its wheels, and looked at it as if it were an enemy which had done him all sorts of harm, and to-day was going to do still more.

Peter looked around him; everything was still, not a person was to be seen. Then, as if he were crazy, he rushed at the chair, seized it and pushed it with such force, in his anger, toward the slope of the mountain that it actually started away and in a moment had disappeared.

Then Peter rushed up the Alm as if he had wings, and did not once stop until he had reached a great blackberry bush, behind which he could hide, for he was not anxious to have the uncle catch sight of him. But he wanted to see what became of the chair, and the bush was favorably situated on a projection of the mountain. Partly concealed, Peter could look down the Alm, and if the uncle appeared he could quickly hide himself. This he did, and what a sight met his ​eyes! His enemy had already gone rushing far below, driven on faster and faster; then it turned over again and again; then it bounded up in the air and fell down on the ground again, and went rolling over and over to its destruction.

Pieces were flying away from it in every direction—feet, cushions, back, all thrown high in the air. Peter took such furious delight in the sight that he jumped high with both feet together; he laughed aloud, he stamped with joy, he leaped around in circles, he kept coming back to the same spot and looking down the mountain. He burst out into fresh laughter and danced anew for joy. He was completely beside himself with delight at the ruin of his enemy, for he saw good things in prospect for him. Now the strange child would have to go away, for she had no means of moving about. Heidi would be alone again and come up to the pasture with him, and in the morning and at evening she would be there when he came, and everything would be as it was before. But Peter did not consider what it meant when one has begun to do a wicked deed, or what the consequences may be.

Heidi came jumping out of the hut and ran to the shop. Her grandfather followed her with Klara in his arms. The shop door stood wide open; both boards had been taken away, so that it was as light as day in the farthest corner. Heidi looked all about, ran around the corner, and came back again with the greatest amazement in her face. Just then her grandfather came along.

​"What is it? Have you rolled the chair away, Heidi?" he asked. "I have looked for it everywhere, grandfather, and you said it was standing by the shop door," said the child, still looking in every direction.

Meanwhile the wind had grown stronger; it rattled around the shop door and suddenly threw it with a crash back against the wall.

"Grandfather, the wind has done it!" exclaimed Heidi; and her eyes flashed at the suggestion. "Oh, if it has blown the chair down to Dörfli, it will be too late before we can get it back, and we can't go at all."

"If it has rolled down there, it will never come back, for it is in a hundred pieces," said her grandfather, stepping around the corner and looking down the mountain. "It is singular how it happened," he added as he looked back at the distance, for the chair had to go around the corner of the hut first.

"Oh, what a shame! we can't go now, and perhaps never," bewailed Klara; "now I shall really have to go home, for I haven't any chair. Oh, what a shame! What a shame!"

But Heidi looked quite trustfully up at her grandfather and said:—

"Surely, grandfather, you can find a way, so that it won't be as Klara thinks, and that she won't have to go home right off?"

"We will go up to the pasture this time as we intended; then we will see what will happen next," said the grandfather.

​The children shouted for joy.

He went back into the hut, brought out a good number of wraps, laid them in the sunniest place near the hut, and set Klara down on them. Then he brought the children their morning milk and led Schwänli and Bärli out of the shed.

"Why is he so long coming up this morning?" said the uncle to himself, for Peter's whistle had not yet sounded.

The grandfather then took Klara up with one arm and the wraps with the other.

"There, now, forward!" he said, starting along; "the goats may come with us."

This pleased Heidi. With one arm around Schwänli's neck and the other around Bärli's, Heidi followed after her grandfather; and the goats were so delighted to go again with Heidi that out of pure affection they almost squeezed her to death between them.

When they reached the pasture, all at once they saw the goats standing in groups, peacefully grazing here and there on the slopes, and Peter lying at full length in the midst of them.

"Another time I will cure you of passing us by, sleepy-head; what did you mean?" the uncle called out to him.

Peter jumped up at the sound of the well-known voice.

"Nobody was up," he replied.

"Did you see anything of the chair?" asked the uncle again.

​"Of what?" said Peter crossly, in reply.

The uncle said nothing more. He spread the shawls out on the sunny slope, placed Klara on them, and asked if she was comfortable.

"As comfortable as in my chair," she said, thanking him; "and I am in the most beautiful place. It is so beautiful here, Heidi, so beautiful!" she exclaimed, looking all about her.

The grandfather started to go back. He said they ought to enjoy themselves together now, and when it was time Heidi must bring out the dinner, which he had left packed in the bag, over in the shade. Then Peter would give them as much milk as they wanted to drink, but Heidi must take good care that it came from Schwänli. Toward evening the grandfather would return; now he wanted above all to go after the chair and see what had become of it.

The sky was deep blue, and not a single cloud was to be seen anywhere. The great snow field beyond them sparkled like thousands and thousands of gold and silver stars. The gray rocky peaks stood high and steadfast in their places, as they had done for ages, looking down solemnly into the valley below. The great bird rocked himself up in the blue, and the mountain wind passed over the heights and blew cool around the sunny Alm. The children were indescribably happy. Now and then a little goat would come and lie down by them for a while; the affectionate Schneehöpli came most frequently and laid her little head against Heidi, and would not have gone away at all if another ​one of the flock had not driven her off. Thus Klara learned to know the goats so well that she never mistook one for another, for each had a quite different face and peculiar manner.

They now felt so familiar with Klara that they came quite near and rubbed their heads against her shoulder; this was always a sign of friendship and affection.

Several hours had passed in this way, when it occurred to Heidi that she would like to go over to the place where there were so many flowers, and see if they were all open and as beautiful as they were the year before.

When her grandfather came back at evening they might go there with Klara, but perhaps the flowers would already have their eyes closed then. Heidi's longing kept increasing until she could resist it no longer. So she asked a little timidly:—

"Would you be angry, Klara, if I should run away very fast and leave you alone? I should so much like to see how the flowers are; but wait"—a thought came to Heidi. She jumped aside and pulled up some beautiful bunches of green plants; Schneehöpli immediately came running toward her, and she took her around the neck and led her to Klara.

There, you must not be left alone," said Heidi, pushing Schnechöpli to a place a little nearer Klara. This the goat understood very well and lay down. Then Heidi threw the leaves into Klara's lap, and she said, much delighted, that Heidi must go now and take a good look at the flowers; she was perfectly willing ​to stay alone with the goat; it was something she had never done before.

Heidi ran away and Klara began to hold out one leaf after another for Schneehöpli; and the goat was so tame that she nestled up to her new friend and ate the leaves slowly out of her fingers. One could easily see how contented she was, that she dared to lie so quietly and peacefully in this place of refuge, for outside with the flock she always had to endure a great deal of persecution from the big, strong goats. How delightful it seemed to Klara to sit in this way, all alone on a mountain, with only a little trusting goat looking up at her so helplessly. A great desire arose in her to become her own master and be able to help some one else and not always be obliged to take help from others. And so many thoughts which she had never had before came to Klara, and a strange desire to live on in the beautiful sunshine and do something to give pleasure to some one as she was now pleasing Schneehöpli, An entirely new joy came into her heart, and it seemed as if everything she knew might be much more beautiful and different from what she had ever seen before; and she felt so contented and happy that she had to throw her arms around the goat's neck and exclaim:—

"Oh, Schneehöpli, how beautiful it is up here; if I only could stay here always with you!"

Meanwhile Heidi had reached the place where the flowers were. She screamed with delight. The whole slope lay covered with shining gold. They were the bright rock roses. Thick, deep clusters of bluebells ​nodded above them, and a strong spicy odor filled the air about the sunny spot, as if cups of the most precious balsam were poured out up there. All the fragrance, however, came from the little brown blossoms which stretched up their round heads modestly here and there between the golden flower-cups. Heidi stood and looked and drew in long breaths of the sweet air. Suddenly she turned around and came panting with excitement back to Klara.

"Oh, you really must come," she called out before she had reached her; "they are so beautiful, and everything is so beautiful, and perhaps by evening it won't be so any longer. Perhaps I can carry you; don't you think I could?"

Klara looked at the excited Heidi in surprise; she shook her head.

"No, no; what are you thinking about, Heidi? you are ever so much smaller than I. Oh, if I only could walk!"

Then Heidi looked all around her trying to think of some new plan. Up where he had been lying on the ground Peter still sat staring down at the children. He had been sitting thus for hours, always gazing down, as if he could not realize what he saw. He had destroyed the hated chair that he might make an end of it all, and so that the stranger might not be able to move; and a short time after she appeared up there and was sitting before him on the ground next to Heidi. It could not be possible, and yet it was true, and whenever he chose he could see that it was so.

​Heidi looked up at him.

"Come down here, Peter!" she called very decidedly.

"Shan't come," he called back.

"But you must! Come, I can't do it alone, and you must help me; come quick!" urged Heidi.

"Shan't come," he replied again.

Then Heidi ran a little way up the mountain toward him.

She stood there with flashing eyes and called out:—

"Peter, if you don't come here at once, I will do something to you that you won't like at all; you can believe what I say!"

These words stabbed Peter, and he was seized with great fear. He had done something wicked which no one must know. Until now it had delighted him; but Heidi spoke as if she knew all about it, and would tell her grandfather everything she knew, and Peter was more afraid of him than any one else. If he should hear what had become of the chair! Peter's distress choked him worse and worse. He rose and came toward Heidi, who was waiting for him.

"I am coming, but then you must n't do it," he said, so subdued with fright that Heidi was quite touched.

"No, no, I will not do it now," she said assuringly; "only come with me; there is nothing to be afraid of in what I want you to do."

When they reached Klara, Heidi began to give orders. Peter was to take Klara firmly under one arm and Heidi take her under the other, and then they would lift her ​up. This went quite well, but then came the difficulty. Klara could not stand; how could they hold her and get her along? Heidi was too small to support her with her arm.

"You must put your arm around my neck now very firmly—so. And you must take Peter's arm and lean on it hard; then we can carry you."

But Peter had never given any one his arm before. Klara took it all right, but he held it stiffly down by his side like a long stick.

"That is not the way to do, Peter," said Heidi very decidedly. "You must make a ring with your arm, and then Klara must put hers through it, and she must lean on it very hard, and you must n't let go at any price; then we can move along."

This was done, but they did not make much progress. Klara was not so light, and the others were too unlike in size; one side went up and the other down, making the support uncertain.

Klara tried to bear weight on her feet a little, but she could not move them forward.

"Just stamp right down," suggested Heidi, "then it will hurt you less afterwards."

"Do you think so?" said Klara timidly.

But she obeyed and ventured to take one firm step on the ground and then another; but it made her give a little scream. Then she lifted one foot again and put it down more carefully.

"Oh, that did n't hurt nearly so much," she said, full of delight.

​"Do it once more," urged Heidi eagerly.

Klara did so, and then again and again, and suddenly she cried out:—

"I can, Heidi! Oh, I can! See! see! I can take steps, one after another."

Then Heidi shouted still louder.

"Oh, oh! Can you really step yourself? Can you walk now? Can you really walk yourself? Oh, if

only grandfather would come! Now you can walk, now you can walk!" she exclaimed again and again in triumphant delight.

Klara leaned on both of them, but with each step she gained a little more confidence, as all three could see. Heidi was quite beside herself with delight.

"Oh, now, we can come up to the pasture together ​every day and go wherever we please on the mountain!" she exclaimed again; "and you can go about as I do all the rest of your life, and never be pushed in a chair, and be well. Oh, this is the greatest joy we could have!"

Klara agreed with all her heart. Surely she could have no greater fortune in the world than to be well and be able to go about like other people, and not be miserably condemned to sit all day long in an invalid chair.

It was not far to the slope where the flowers grew. They could already see the gleam of the golden roses in the sun. Then they came to the clusters of blue-bells where the sunny ground showed through so invitingly.

"Can't we sit down here?" asked Klara.

It was just what Heidi wished to do, and the children sat down in the midst of the flowers, Klara for the first time on the dry mountain ground; this pleased her more than she could tell. All around them the nodding bluebells, the shining golden roses, the red centauries, and everywhere the sweet fragrance of the brown blossoms and the spicy wild plum. Everything was so lovely—so lovely!

Heidi, too, as she sat next her, thought it had never been so beautiful up there before, and she did not know why she felt such joy in her heart, so that she had to keep shouting aloud. But suddenly it occurred to her that Klara had been made well; this was a far greater joy than all the beauty around them. Klara was perfectly silent; she was so delighted and fascinated with ​everything she saw, and with the prospect the experience she had just had presented to her. There was hardly any room in her heart for the great fortune; and the sunshine and fragrance of the flowers, besides, overpowered her with a feeling of joy which made her quite speechless.

Peter lay silent also and motionless in the midst of this field of flowers, for he was almost asleep. The wind blew down softly and caressingly behind the protecting rocks and whispered up in the bushes. Now and then Heidi had to get up and run about, for there was always some place still more beautiful, where the flowers were thicker, the fragrance stronger, because the wind blew it here and there; she had to sit down everywhere.

Thus the hours fled away.

The sun was long past midday when a troop of goats came walking quite gravely up to the flower field. It was not their pasturage; they had never been brought there before; they did not like to graze among the flowers. They looked like an embassy with Distelfinck ahead. The goats had evidently come to look for their companions who had left them so long in the lurch and stayed away beyond all rules, for the goats knew the time well. When Distelfinck spied the three missing ones in the flower field he began to bleat loudly, and immediately all the others joined in a chorus and came along making a great noise. Then Peter woke up. But he had to rub his eyes hard, for he had been dreaming that the wheel chair was standing again, all ​upholstered in red and unharmed, in front of the hut, and now that he was awake he still saw the gold nails in the upholstery shine in the sun; but quickly he discovered that they were only the yellow, glistening flowers on the ground. Then Peter's distress, which had entirely disappeared at sight of the uninjured chair, came back to him. Although Heidi had promised not to do anything, yet Peter grew very much afraid that what he had done might be found out. He was very meek and willing to be the guide and do everything exactly as Heidi wished.

When they had all three come back to the pasture, Heidi quickly brought out her well-filled dinner bag and set about keeping her promise, for her threat had reference to the contents of the bag. She had especially noticed in the morning what good things her grandfather put in, and had been pleased to think that a good part of it would fall to Peter's share. But when Peter was so disagreeable, she wanted to make him understand that he would not have what otherwise had been intended for him. Heidi took piece after piece out of the bag and made three little heaps of them, which were so high that she said to herself with satisfaction: "Then he will have all that we leave."

Then she gave a little pile to each one and sat down beside Klara with her own, and the children thoroughly enjoyed their dinner after their great exertion.

It happened just as Heidi expected; when they both were satisfied, there was still so much left that they gave Peter another pile as large as the first. He ate ​it all silently without stopping, even to the crumbs, but he accomplished his work without the usual satisfaction. Something lay in Peter's stomach which gnawed and choked him and squeezed him at every mouthful.

The children had returned so late to their dinner that immediately after the grandfather was seen coming up the Alm to get them. Heidi rushed to meet him; she had to tell him first of all what had happened. She was so excited over her good news that she could hardly find words to tell her grandfather; but he understood at once what the child meant, and his face lighted up with joy. He hastened his steps, and when he reached Klara, said, smiling gladly:—

"So you ventured and you have really succeeded!"

Then he lifted Klara from the ground, put his left arm around her, and held out his right as a strong support for her hand, and Klara walked, in this way, even more surely and less timidly than before.

Heidi shouted and danced around, and her grandfather looked as if some great good fortune had come to him. But he suddenly took Klara in his arms and said:—

"We will not overdo it; it is time now to go home." And he started on the way at once, for he knew that Klara had made enough exertion for that day and that she needed rest.

When Peter with his goats came down late that evening to Dörfli, a crowd of people were standing together, pushing each other this way and that to get ​a better view of what lay in their midst. Peter had to see too; he pushed and squeezed right and left and made his way through. Then he saw what it was.

On the grass lay the middle part of the wheel chair with a portion of the back still hanging to it. The red upholstery and the bright nails still showed how splendid it had looked when it was perfect.

"I was here when it came down," said the baker, who was standing next to Peter; "it was worth at least five hundred francs. I'll wager that with any one. But it's a wonder to me how it happened.'

"The wind must have brought it down; the uncle said so himself," remarked Barbel, who could not admire the handsome red material enough.

"It is a good thing that it was n't any one else who did it," said the baker again; "he would be in a fine fix. If the gentleman in Frankfurt hears of it, he will try to find out how it happened. As for me, I am glad that I haven't been upon the Alm for two years; suspicion may fall on any one who was seen up there at that time."

A good many other opinions were expressed, but Peter had heard enough. He crept quite meekly and softly out of the crowd and ran with all his might up the mountain, as if some one were after him to catch him. The baker's words had given him a terrible scare. He felt sure that at any moment an officer from Frankfurt might come to look into the matter, and then he might find out that he had done it, and he ​would seize him and take him to the house of correction in Frankfurt. Peter saw this before him and his hair stood on end from fear.

He came home very much distressed. He would make no reply to any remark and would not eat his potatoes; he crept hurriedly into bed and groaned.

"Peterli has been eating sorrel again; he has some in his stomach that makes him groan so," said his mother, Brigitte.

"You must give him a little more bread to take with him; give him a piece of mine to-morrow," said the grandmother compassionately.

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When the children that night looked up from their beds at the starlight, Heidi said:—

"Haven't you been thinking all day long to-day how good it is that the dear Lord does n't give us what we pray so terribly hard for, when He knows of something much better?"

"Why do you say that now, Heidi?" asked Klara.

"Don't you know, because I prayed so hard in Frankfurt that I might go home right away, and because I could n't go, I thought the dear Lord had not heard me. But, do you know, if I had gone right away, you would never have come up on the mountain, and you would n't have got well."

Klara became quite thoughtful.

"But, Heidi," she began again, "then we ought not to pray for anything, because the dear Lord certainly ​has always something better in mind than we know and ask him for."

"Oh, Klara, do you really think so?" Heidi hastened to say. "We ought to pray to the dear Lord every day, and about every single thing; for then He will know that we do not forget that we receive everything from Him. And if we forget the dear Lord, He will forget us too; your grandmamma told me that. But, you know, if we do not receive what we would like, we must not think the dear Lord has not listened, and stop praying, but we must pray like this: 'Now I know, dear Lord, that you have something better in store, and I will be glad that you will be so good to me.'"

"How did you find out all this, Heidi?" asked Klara.

"Your grandmamma explained it to me first, and then it happened exactly so, and then I knew it. But I think, Klara," Heidi continued, sitting up, "that to-night we ought really to thank the dear Lord heartily, because He has sent us the great good fortune that you are able to walk now."

"Yes, indeed, Heidi; you are right, and I am glad that you reminded me. I was so delighted I almost forgot it."

Then the children prayed, and each thanked the dear Lord in her own way for sending such a wonderful blessing to Klara, who had been ill so long.

The next morning the grandfather thought they could write the grandmamma that if she would come up on the Alm there would be something new for her ​to see. But the children had another plan. They wanted to give the grandmamma a great surprise. First, Klara was to learn to walk better, so that she could go a little way with only Heidi's support; but the grandmamma must not have the least supicion of it. The grandfather must decide how long it would take, and as he thought that it would not take more than a week, in the next letter they would give her an urgent invitation to come up on the mountain at the end of that time; but not a word must be said to her about anything new.

The days which followed were by far the most beautiful which Klara had passed on the Alm. Every morning she awoke with these delightful words in her mind:—

"I am well! I am well! I do not need to sit in a wheel chair any longer; I can go about by myself like other people!"

Then followed the walking; and every day she went more easily and better, and was able to take longer walks. The exercise caused such an appetite that the grandfather made her thick slices of bread and butter larger and was well pleased to see them disappear. He always brought with them a large pot of foaming milk and filled bowl after bowl with it. The end of the week came and with it the day that was to bring the grandmamma!