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

way on the other side, they led the wanderer back to the

rest of the flock that had remained peacefully feeding. Peter,

now he had his goat in safety, lifted his stick in order to give

her a good beating as punishment, and Greenfinch seeing what was

coming shrank back in fear. But Heidi cried out, “No, no, Peter,

you must not strike her; see how frightened she is!”

 

“She deserves it,” growled Peter, and again lifted his stick.

Then Heidi flung herself against him and cried indignantly, “You

have no right to touch her, it will hurt her, let her alone!”

 

Peter looked with surprise at the commanding little figure,

whose dark eyes were flashing, and reluctantly he let his stick

drop. “Well I will let her off if you will give me some more of

your cheese tomorrow,” he said, for he was determined to have

something to make up to him for his fright.

 

“You shall have it all, tomorrow and every day, I do not want

it,” replied Heidi, giving ready consent to his demand. “And I

will give you bread as well, a large piece like you had to-day;

but then you must promise never to beat Greenfinch, or

Snowflake, or any of the goats.”

 

“All right,” said Peter, “I don’t care,” which meant that he

would agree to the bargain. He now let go of Greenfinch, who

joyfully sprang to join her companions.

 

And thus imperceptibly the day had crept on to its close, and

now the sun was on the point of sinking out of sight behind the

high mountains. Heidi was again sitting on the ground, silently

gazing at the blue bell-shaped flowers, as they glistened in the

evening sun, for a golden light lay on the grass and flowers, and

the rocks above were beginning to shine and glow. All at once she

sprang to her feet, “Peter! Peter! everything is on fire! All

the rocks are burning, and the great snow mountain and the sky! O

look, look! the high rock up there is red with flame! O the

beautiful, fiery snow! Stand up, Peter! See, the fire has

reached the great bird’s nest! look at the rocks! look at the fir

trees! Everything, everything is on fire!”

 

“It is always like that,” said Peter composedly, continuing to

peel his stick; “but it is not really fire.”

 

“What is it then?” cried Heidi, as she ran backwards and

forwards to look first one side and then the other, for she felt

she could not have enough of such a beautiful sight. “What is it,

Peter, what is it?” she repeated.

 

“It gets like that of itself,” explained Peter.

 

“Look, look!” cried Heidi in fresh excitement, “now they have

turned all rose color! Look at that one covered with snow, and

that with the high, pointed rocks! What do you call them?”

 

“Mountains have not any names,” he answered.

 

“O how beautiful, look at the crimson snow! And up there on the

rocks there are ever so many roses! Oh! now they are turning

grey! Oh! oh! now all the color has died away! it’s all gone,

Peter.” And Heidi sat down on the ground looking as full of

distress as if everything had really come to an end.

 

“It will come again tomorrow,” said Peter. “Get up, we must go

home now.” He whistled to his goats and together they all

started on their homeward way.

 

“Is it like that every day, shall we see it every day when we

bring the goats up here?” asked Heidi, as she clambered down the

mountain at Peter’s side; she waited eagerly for his answer,

hoping that he would tell her it was so.

 

“It is like that most days,” he replied.

 

“But will it be like that tomorrow for certain?” Heidi

persisted.

 

“Yes, yes, tomorrow for certain,” Peter assured her in answer.

 

Heidi now felt quite happy again, and her little brain was so

full of new impressions and new thoughts that she did not speak

any more until they had reached the hut. The grandfather was

sitting under the fir trees, where he had also put up a seat,

waiting as usual for his goats which returned down the mountain

on this side.

 

Heidi ran up to him followed by the white and brown goats, for

they knew their own master and stall. Peter called out after

her, “Come with me again tomorrow! Good-night!” For he was

anxious for more than one reason that Heidi should go with him

the next day.

 

Heidi ran back quickly and gave Peter her hand, promising to go

with him, and then making her way through the goats she once

more clasped Snowflake round the neck, saying in a gentle

soothing voice, “Sleep well, Snowflake, and remember that I shall

be with you again tomorrow, so you must not bleat so sadly any

more.” Snowflake gave her a friendly and grateful look, and then

went leaping joyfully after the other goats.

 

Heidi returned to the fir-trees. “O grandfather,” she cried,

even before she had come up to him, “it was so beautiful. The

fire, and the roses on the rocks, and the blue and yellow

flowers, and look what I have brought you!” And opening the apron

that held her flowers she shook them all out at her grandfather’s

feet. But the poor flowers, how changed they were! Heidi hardly

knew them again. They looked like dry bits of hay, not a single

little flower cup stood open. “O grandfather, what is the matter

with them?” exclaimed Heidi in shocked surprise, “they were not

like that this morning, why do they look so now?”

 

“They like to stand out there in the sun and not to be shut up

in an apron,” said her grandfather.

 

“Then I will never gather any more. But, grandfather, why did

the great bird go on croaking so?” she continued in an eager tone

of inquiry.

 

“Go along now and get into your bath while I go and get some

milk; when we are together at supper I will tell you all about

it.”

 

Heidi obeyed, and when later she was sitting on her high stool

before her milk bowl with her grandfather beside her, she

repeated her question, “Why does the great bird go on croaking

and screaming down at us, grandfather?”

 

“He is mocking at the people who live down below in the

villages, because they all go huddling and gossiping together,

and encourage one another in evil talking and deeds. He calls

out, ‘If you would separate and each go your own way and come up

here and live on a height as I do, it would be better for you!’”

There was almost a wildness in the old man’s voice as he spoke,

so that Heidi seemed to hear the croaking of the bird again even

more distinctly.

 

“Why haven’t the mountains any names?” Heidi went on.

 

“They have names,” answered her grandfather, “and if you can

describe one of them to me that I know I will tell you what it

is called.”

 

Heidi then described to him the rocky mountain with the two high

peaks so exactly that the grandfather was delighted. “Just so, I

know it,” and he told her its name. “Did you see any other?”

 

Then Heidi told him of the mountain with the great snowfield,

and how it had been on fire, and had turned rosy-red and then all

of a sudden had grown quite pale again and all the color had

disappeared.

 

“I know that one too,” he said, giving her its name. “So you

enjoyed being out with the goats?”

 

Then Heidi went on to give him an account of the whole day, and

of how delightful it had all been, and particularly described

the fire that had burst out everywhere in the evening. And then

nothing would do but her grandfather must tell how it came, for

Peter knew nothing about it.

 

The grandfather explained to her that it was the sun that did

it. “When he says good-night to the mountains he throws his most

beautiful colors over them, so that they may not forget him

before he comes again the next day.”

 

Heidi was delighted with this explanation, and could hardly bear

to wait for another day to come that she might once more climb

up with the goats and see how the sun bid good-night to the

mountains. But she had to go to bed first, and all night she

slept soundly on her bed of hay, dreaming of nothing but of

shining mountains with red roses all over them, among which

happy little Snowflake went leaping in and out.

 

CHAPTER IV. THE VISIT TO GRANDMOTHER

 

The next morning the sun came out early as bright as ever, and

then Peter appeared with the goats, and again the two children

climbed up together to the high meadows, and so it went on day

after day till Heidi, passing her life thus among the grass and

flowers, was burnt brown with the sun, and grew so strong and

healthy that nothing ever ailed her. She was happy too, and

lived from day to day as free and lighthearted as the little

birds that make their home among the green forest trees. Then the

autumn came, and the wind blew louder and stronger, and the

grandfather would say sometimes, “To-day you must stay at home,

Heidi; a sudden gust of the wind would blow a little thing like

you over the rocks into the valley below in a moment.”

 

Whenever Peter heard that he must go alone he looked very

unhappy, for he saw nothing but mishaps of all kinds ahead, and

did not know how he should bear the long dull day without Heidi.

Then, too, there was the good meal he would miss, and besides

that the goats on these days were so naughty and obstinate that

he had twice the usual trouble with them, for they had grown so

accustomed to Heidi’s presence that they would run in every

direction and refuse to go on unless she was with them. Heidi

was never unhappy, for wherever she was she found something to

interest or amuse her. She liked best, it is true, to go out

with Peter up to the flowers and the great bird, where there was

so much to be seen, and so many experiences to go through among

the goats with their different characters; but she also found her

grandfather’s hammering and sawing and carpentering very

entertaining, and if it should chance to be the day when the

large round goat’s-milk cheese was made she enjoyed beyond

measure looking on at this wonderful performance, and watching

her grandfather, as with sleeves rolled back, he stirred the

great cauldron with his bare arms. The thing which attracted her

most, however, was the waving and roaring of the three old fir

trees on these windy days. She would run away repeatedly from

whatever she might be doing, to listen to them, for nothing

seemed so strange and wonderful to her as the deep mysterious

sound in the tops of the trees. She would stand underneath them

and look up, unable to tear herself away, looking and listening

while they bowed and swayed and roared as the mighty wind rushed

through them. There was no longer now the warm bright sun that

had shone all through the summer, so Heidi went to the cupboard

and got out her shoes and stockings and dress, for it was

growing colder every day, and when Heidi stood under the fir

trees the wind blew through her as if she was a thin little leaf,

but still she felt she could