Heidi - Johanna Spyri (red scrolls of magic .txt) 📗

she then sat down beside his outstretched figure and

looked about her. The valley lay far below bathed in the morning

sun. In front of her rose a broad snowfield, high against the

dark-blue sky, while to the left was a huge pile of rocks on

either side of which a bare lofty peak, that seemed to pierce

the blue, looked frowningly down upon, her. The child sat without

moving, her eyes taking in the whole scene, and all around was a

great stillness, only broken by soft, light puffs of wind that

swayed the light bells of the blue flowers, and the shining gold

heads of the cistus, and set them nodding merrily on their

slender stems. Peter had fallen asleep after his fatigue and the

goats were climbing about among the bushes overhead. Heidi had

never felt so happy in her life before. She drank in the golden

sunlight, the fresh air, the sweet smell of the flowers, and

wished for nothing better than to remain there forever. So the

time went on, while to Heidi, who had so often looked up from

the valley at the mountains above, these seemed now to have

faces, and to be looking down at her like old friends. Suddenly

she heard a loud harsh cry overhead and lifting her eyes she saw

a bird, larger than any she had ever seen before, with great,

spreading wings, wheeling round and round in wide circles, and

uttering a piercing, croaking kind of sound above her.

 

“Peter, Peter, wake up!” called out Heidi. “See, the great bird

is there—look, look!”

 

Peter got up on hearing her call, and together they sat and

watched the bird, which rose higher and higher in the blue air

till it disappeared behind the grey mountain-tops.

 

“Where has it gone to?” asked Heidi, who had followed the bird’s

movements with intense interest.

 

“Home to its nest,” said Peter.

 

“Is his home right up there? Oh, how nice to be up so high! why

does he make that noise?”

 

“Because he can’t help it,” explained Peter.

 

“Let us climb up there and see where his nest is,” proposed

Heidi.

 

“Oh! oh! oh!” exclaimed Peter, his disapproval of Heidi’s

suggestion becoming more marked with each ejaculation, “why even

the goats cannot climb as high as that, besides didn’t Uncle say

that you were not to fall over the rocks?”

 

Peter now began suddenly whistling and calling in such a loud

manner that Heidi could not think what was happening; but the

goats evidently understood his voice, for one after the other

they came springing down the rocks until they were all assembled

on the green plateau, some continuing to nibble at the juicy

stems, others skipping about here and there or pushing at each

other with their horns for pastime.

 

Heidi jumped up and ran in and out among them, for it was new to

her to see the goats playing together like this and her delight

was beyond words as she joined in their frolics; she made

personal acquaintance with them all in turn, for they were like

separate individuals to her, each single goat having a

particular way of behavior of its own. Meanwhile Peter had taken

the wallet out of the hollow and placed the pieces of bread and

cheese on the ground in the shape of a square, the larger two on

Heidi’s side and the smaller on his own, for he knew exactly

which were hers and which his. Then he took the little bowl and

milked some delicious fresh milk into it from the white goat, and

afterwards set the bowl in the middle of the square. Now he

called Heidi to come, but she wanted more calling than the goats,

for the child was so excited and amused at the capers and lively

games of her new playfellows that she saw and heard nothing else.

But Peter knew how to make himself heard, for he shouted till the

very rocks above echoed his voice, and at last Heidi appeared,

and when she saw the inviting repast spread out upon the ground

she went skipping round it for joy.

 

“Leave off jumping about, it is time for dinner,” said Peter;

“sit down now and begin.”

 

Heidi sat down. “Is the milk for me?” she asked, giving another

look of delight at the beautifully arranged square with the bowl

as a chief ornament in the centre.

 

“Yes,” replied Peter, “and the two large pieces of bread and

cheese are yours also, and when you have drunk up that milk, you

are to have another bowlful from the white goat, and then it

will be my turn.”

 

“And which do you get your milk from?” inquired Heidi.

 

“From my own goat, the piebald one. But go on now with your

dinner,” said Peter, again reminding her it was time to eat.

Heidi now took up the bowl and drank her milk, and as soon as

she had put it down empty Peter rose and filled it again for her.

Then she broke off a piece of her bread and held out the

remainder, which was still larger than Peter’s own piece,

together with the whole big slice of cheese to her companion,

saying, “You can have that, I have plenty.”

 

Peter looked at Heidi, unable to speak for astonishment, for

never in all his life could he have said and done like that with

anything he had. He hesitated a moment, for he could not believe

that Heidi was in earnest; but the latter kept on holding out

the bread and cheese, and as Peter still did not take it, she

laid it down on his knees. He saw then that she really meant it;

he seized the food, nodded his thanks and acceptance of her

present, and then made a more splendid meal than he had known

ever since he was a goatherd. Heidi the while still continued to

watch the goats. “Tell me all their names,” she said.

 

Peter knew these by heart, for having very little else to carry

in his head he had no difficulty in remembering them. So he

began, telling Heidi the name of each goat in turn as he pointed

it out to her. Heidi listened with great attention, and it was

not long before she could herself distinguish the goats from one

another and could call each by name, for every goat had its own

peculiarities which could not easily be mistaken; only one had

to watch them closely, and this Heidi did. There was the great

Turk with his big horns, who was always wanting to butt the

others, so that most of them ran away when they saw him coming

and would have nothing to do with their rough companion. Only

Greenfinch, the slender nimble little goat, was brave enough to

face him, and would make a rush at him, three or four times in

succession, with such agility and dexterity, that the great Turk

often stood still quite astounded not venturing to attack her

again, for Greenfinch was fronting him, prepared for more warlike

action, and her horns were sharp. Then there was little White

Snowflake, who bleated in such a plaintive and beseeching manner

that Heidi already had several times run to it and taken its head

in her hands to comfort it. Just at this moment the pleading

young cry was heard again, and Heidi jumped up running and,

putting her arms round the little creature’s neck, asked in a

sympathetic voice, “What is it, little Snowflake? Why do you call

like that as if in trouble?” The goat pressed closer to Heidi in

a confiding way and left off bleating. Peter called out from

where he was sitting—for he had not yet got to the end of his

bread and cheese, “She cries like that because the old goat is

not with her; she was sold at Mayenfeld the day before yesterday,

and so will not come up the mountain any more.”

 

“Who is the old goat?” called Heidi back.

 

“Why, her mother, of course,” was the answer.

 

“Where is the grandmother?” called Heidi again.

 

“She has none.”

 

“And the grandfather?”

 

“She has none.”

 

“Oh, you poor little Snowflake!” exclaimed Heidi, clasping the

animal gently to her, “but do not cry like that any more; see

now, I shall come up here with you every day, so that you will

not be alone any more, and if you want anything you have only to

come to me.”

 

The young animal rubbed its head contentedly against Heidi’s

shoulder, and no longer gave such plaintive bleats. Peter now

having finished his meal joined Heidi and the goats, Heidi

having by this time found out a great many things about these.

She had decided that by far the handsomest and best-behaved of

the goats were undoubtedly the two belonging to her grandfather;

they carried themselves with a certain air of distinction and

generally went their own way, and as to the great Turk they

treated him with indifference and contempt.

 

The goats were now beginning to climb the rocks again, each

seeking for the plants it liked in its own fashion, some jumping

over everything they met till they found what they wanted,

others going more carefully and cropping all the nice leaves by

the way, the Turk still now and then giving the others a poke

with his horns. Little Swan and Little Bear clambered lightly up

and never failed to find the best bushes, and then they would

stand gracefully poised on their pretty legs, delicately nibbling

at the leaves. Heidi stood with her hands behind her back,

carefully noting all they did.

 

“Peter,” she said to the boy who had again thrown himself down

on the ground, “the prettiest of all the goats are Little Swan

and Little Bear.”

 

“Yes, I know they are,” was the answer. “Alm-Uncle brushes them

down and washes them and gives them salt, and he has the nicest

shed for them.”

 

All of a sudden Peter leaped to his feet and ran hastily after

the goats. Heidi followed him as fast as she could, for she was

too eager to know what had happened to stay behind. Peter dashed

through the middle of the flock towards that side of the

mountain where the rocks fell perpendicularly to a great depth

below, and where any thoughtless goat, if it went too near, might

fall over and break all its legs. He had caught sight of the

inquisitive Greenfinch taking leaps in that direction, and he was

only just in time, for the animal had already sprung to the edge

of the abyss. All Peter could do was to throw himself down and

seize one of her hind legs. Greenfinch, thus taken by surprise,

began bleating furiously, angry at being held so fast and

prevented from continuing her voyage of discovery. She struggled

to get loose, and endeavored so obstinately to leap forward that

Peter shouted to Heidi to come and help him, for he could not get

up and was afraid of pulling out the goat’s leg altogether.

 

Heidi had already run up and she saw at once the danger both

Peter and the animal were in. She quickly gathered a bunch of

sweet-smelling leaves, and then, holding them under Greenfinch’s

nose, said coaxingly, “Come, come, Greenfinch, you must not be

naughty! Look, you might fall down there and break your leg, and

that would give you dreadful pain!”

 

The young animal turned quickly, and began contentedly eating

the leaves out of Heidi’s hand. Meanwhile Peter got on to his

feet again and took hold of Greenfinch by the band round her neck

from which her bell was hung, and Heidi taking hold of her in the

same