A STRANGE LOOKING PROCESSION
It was the month of May. The clear, warm sunshine lay upon the
mountain, which had turned green again. The last snows had disappeared
and the sun had already coaxed many of the flowers to show their bright
heads above the grass. Heidi was at home again on the mountain, running
backwards and forwards in her accustomed way, not knowing which spot
was most delightful.
From the shed at the back came the sound of sawing and chopping, and
Heidi listened to it with pleasure, for it was the old familiar sound
she had known from the beginning of her life up here. Suddenly she
jumped up and ran round, for she must know what her grandfather was
doing. In front of the shed door already stood a finished new chair,
and a second was in course of construction under the grandfather's
skilful hand.
"Oh, I know what these are for," exclaimed Heidi in great glee. "We
shall want them when they all come from Frankfurt. This one is for
grandmamma, and the one you are now making is for Clara, and then--then
there will, I suppose, have to be another," continued Heidi with more
hesitation in her voice, "or do you think, Grandfather, that perhaps
Miss Rottermeyer will not come with them?"
"Well, I cannot say just yet," replied her grandfather, "but it will be
safer to make one so that we can offer her a seat if she does."
While talking with the grandfather there was heard from above a
whistling and calling which Heidi immediately recognized. She ran out
and found herself surrounded by her four-footed friends. They were
apparently as pleased as she was to be among the heights again, for
they leaped about and bleated for joy. When Peter at last got up to her
he handed her a letter.
"There!" he exclaimed.
"Did some one give you this while you were out with the goats," she
asked, in her surprise.
"No," was the answer.
"Where did you get it from then?"
"I found it in the dinner bag."
Which was true to a certain extent. The letter to Heidi had been given
him the evening before by the postman at Doerfli, and Peter had put it
into his empty bag. That morning he had stuffed his bread and cheese on
the top of it, and had forgotten it when he called for Alm-Uncle's two
goats; only when he had finished his bread and cheese at mid-day and
was searching in the bag for any last crumbs did he remember the letter
which lay at the bottom.
Heidi read the address carefully; then she ran back to the shed holding
out her letter to her grandfather in high glee. "From Frankfurt! from
Clara! Would you like to hear it?"
The grandfather was ready and pleased to do so, as was Peter, who had
followed Heidi into the shed.
"DEAREST HEIDI,--Everything is packed and we shall start now in two or
three days, as soon as papa himself is ready to leave; he is not coming
with us as he has first to go to Paris. The doctor comes every day,
and as soon as he is inside the door, he cries, 'Off now as quickly as
you can, off to the mountain.' He is most impatient about our going.
You cannot think how much he enjoyed himself when he was with you! He
has called nearly every day this winter, and each time he describes
over again all he did with you and the grandfather, and talks of the
mountains and the flowers and of the great silence up there far above
all towns and villages, and of the fresh, delicious air, and often
adds, 'No one can help getting well up there.' He himself is quite a
different man since his visit, and looks happy again. Oh, how I am
looking forward to seeing everything and to being with you on the
mountain, and to making the acquaintance of Peter and the goats.
[Illustration]
"I shall have first to go through a six weeks' cure at Ragatz; this the
doctor has ordered, and then we shall move up to Doerfli, and every
fine day I shall be carried up the mountain in my chair and spend the
day with you. Grandmamma is traveling with me and will remain with
me; she also is delighted at the thought of paying you a visit. But
just imagine, Miss Rottermeyer refuses to come with us. Almost every
day grandmamma says to her, 'Well, how about this Swiss journey, my
worthy Rottermeyer? Pray say if you really would like to come with
us.' But she always thanks grandmamma very politely and says she has
quite made up her mind. I think I know what has done it: Sebastian gave
such a frightful description of the mountain, of how the rocks were
so overhanging and dangerous that at any minute you might fall into a
crevasse, and how it was such steep climbing that you feared at every
step to go slipping to the bottom, and that goats alone could make
their way up without fear of being killed. She shuddered when she heard
him tell of all this, and since then she has not been so enthusiastic
about Switzerland as she was before. Fear has also taken possession
of Tinette, and she also refuses to come. So grandmamma and I will be
alone; Sebastian will go with us as far as Ragatz and then return here.
"I can hardly bear waiting till I see you again. Good-bye, dearest
Heidi; grandmamma sends you her best love and all good wishes.--Your
affectionate friend, CLARA."
As soon as the letter had been read, Peter rushed out, twirling his
stick in the air in such a reckless fashion that the frightened goats
fled down the mountain before him with higher and wider leaps than
usual. He followed at full speed, his stick still raised in air in a
menacing manner as if he was longing to vent his fury on some invisible
foe. This foe was indeed the prospect of the arrival of the Frankfurt
visitors, the thought of whom filled him with exasperation.
Heidi was so full of joyful anticipation that she determined to seize
the first possible moment next day to go down and tell grandmother who
was coming, and also particularly who was not coming. The old lady
was no longer confined to her bed. She was back in her corner at her
spinning-wheel, but there was an expression on her face of mournful
anxiety. Peter had come in the evening before, brimful of anger and
had told about the large party who were coming up from Frankfurt, and
he did not know what other things might happen after that; and the old
woman had not slept all night, pursued by the old thought of Heidi
being taken from her.
Heidi ran in, and taking her little stool immediately sat down by
grandmother and began eagerly pouring out all her news, growing more
excited with her pleasure as she went on. But all of a sudden she
stopped short and said anxiously, "What is the matter, Grandmother,
aren't you a bit pleased with what I am telling you?"
"Yes, yes, of course, child, since it gives you so much pleasure," she
answered, trying to look more cheerful.
"But I can see all the same that something troubles you. Is it because
you think after all that Miss Rottermeyer may come?" asked Heidi,
beginning to feel anxious herself.
"No, no! it is nothing, child," said the grandmother, wishing to
reassure her. "Just give me your hand that I may feel sure you are
there. No doubt it would be the best thing for you, although I feel I
could scarcely survive it."
"I do not want anything of the best if you could scarcely survive it,"
said Heidi, in such a determined tone of voice that the grandmother's
fears increased as she felt sure the people from Frankfurt were coming
to take Heidi back with them, since now she was well again they
naturally wished to have her with them once more. But she was anxious
to hide her trouble from Heidi if possible, as the latter was so
sympathetic that she might refuse perhaps to go away, and that would
not be right.
"Heidi," she said, "there is something that would comfort me and calm
my thoughts; read me the hymn beginning: 'All things will work for
good.'"
Heidi found the place at once and read out in her clear, young voice:--
All things will work for good
To those who trust in Me;
I come with healing on my wings,
To save and set thee free.
"Yes, yes, that is just what I wanted to hear," said the grandmother,
and the deep expression of trouble passed from her face. Heidi looked
at her thoughtfully for a minute or two and then said, "healing means
that which cures everything and makes everybody well, doesn't it,
Grandmother?"
"Yes, that is it," replied the old woman with a nod of assent, "and
we may be sure everything will come to pass according to God's good
purpose."
When the evening came, Heidi returned home up the mountain. The stars
came out overhead one by one, so bright and sparkling that each seemed
to send a fresh ray of joy into her heart.
Not only were the nights of this month of May so clear and bright, but
the days as well; the sun rose every morning into the cloudless sky, as
undimmed in its splendor as when it sank the evening before, and the
grandfather would look out early and exclaim with astonishment, "This
is indeed a wonderful year of sun; it will make all the shrubs and
plants grow apace; you will have to see, General, that your army does
not get out of hand from overfeeding." And Peter would swing his stick
with an air of assurance and an expression on his face as much as to
say, "I'll see to that."
So May passed, everything growing greener and greener, and then came
the month of June, with a hotter sun and long, light days, that brought
the flowers out all over the mountain, so that every spot was bright
with them and the air full of their sweet scents. This month too was
drawing to its close when one day Heidi, having finished her household
duties, ran out with the intention of paying first a visit to the fir
trees, and then going up higher to see if the bush of rock roses was
yet in bloom, for its flowers were so lovely when standing open in the
sun. But just as she was turning the corner of the hut, she gave such a
loud cry that her grandfather came running out of the shed to see what
had happened.
"Grandfather, Grandfather!" she cried, beside herself with excitement.
"Come here! look! look!"
The old man was by her side by this time and looked in the direction of
her outstretched hand.
A strange-looking procession was making its way up the mountain;
in front were two men carrying a sedan chair, in which sat a girl
well wrapped up in shawls; then followed a horse, mounted by a
stately-looking lady who was looking about her with great interest and
talking to the guide who walked beside her; then a reclining chair,
which was being pushed up by another man, it having evidently been
thought safer to send the invalid to whom it belonged up the steep path
in a sedan chair. The procession wound up with a porter, with such a
bundle of cloaks, shawls, and furs on his back that it rose well above
his head.
"Here they come! here they come!" shouted Heidi, jumping with joy. And
sure enough it was the party from Frankfurt; the figures came nearer
and nearer, and at last they had actually arrived. The men in front put
down their burden, Heidi rushed forward and the two children embraced
each other with mutual delight. Grandmamma having also reached the top,
dismounted, and gave Heidi an affectionate greeting, before turning to
the grandfather, who had meanwhile come up to welcome his guests. There
was no constraint about the meeting, for they both knew each other
perfectly well from hearsay and felt like old acquaintances.
After the first words of greeting had been exchanged grandmamma broke
out into lively expressions of admiration. "What a magnificent
residence you have, Uncle! I could hardly have believed it was so
beautiful! A king might well envy you! And how well my little Heidi
looks--like a wild rose!" she continued, drawing the child towards her
and stroking her fresh pink cheeks. "I don't know which way to look
first, it is all so lovely! What do you say to it, Clara, what do you
say?"
Clara was gazing round entranced; she had never imagined, much less
seen, anything so beautiful. She gave vent to her delight in cries of
joy. "O Grandmamma," she said, "I should like to remain here for ever."
The grandfather had meanwhile drawn up the invalid chair and spread
some of the wraps over it; he now went up to Clara.
"Supposing we carry the little daughter now to her accustomed chair;
I think she will be more comfortable, the travelling sedan is rather
hard," he said, and without waiting for any one to help him he lifted
the child in his strong arms and laid her gently down on her own couch.
He then covered her over carefully and arranged her feet on the soft
cushion, as if he had never done anything all his life but wait on
cripples. The grandmamma looked on with surprise.
"My dear Uncle," she exclaimed, "if I knew where you had learned to
nurse I would at once send all the nurses I know to the same place that
they might handle their patients in like manner. How do you come to
know so much?"
Uncle smiled. "I know more from experience than training," he answered,
but as he spoke the smile died away and a look of sadness passed over
his face. The vision rose before him of a face of suffering that he had
known long years before, the face of a man lying crippled on his couch
of pain, and unable to move a limb. The man had been his captain during
the fierce fighting in Sicily; he had found him lying wounded and had
carried him away, and after that the captain would suffer no one else
near him, and Uncle had stayed and nursed him till his sufferings ended
in death. It all came back to Uncle now, and it seemed natural to him
to attend the sick Clara and to show her all those kindly attentions
with which he had once been so familiar.
"O Heidi, if only I could walk about with you," said Clara longingly,
"if I could but go and look at the fir trees and at everything I know
so well from your description, although I have never been here before."
Heidi in response put out all her strength, and after a slight effort,
managed to wheel Clara's chair quite easily round the hut to the fir
trees. There they paused. Clara had never seen such trees before, with
their tall, straight stems, and long, thick branches growing thicker
and thicker till they touched the ground. Even the grandmamma, who had
followed the children, was astonished at the sight of them.
Heidi had now wheeled Clara toward the goat shed, and had flung open
the door, so that Clara might have a full view of the inside. Clara
lamented to her grandmother that they would have to leave early before
the goats came home. "I should so like to have seen Peter and his whole
flock."
"Oh, the flowers!" exclaimed Clara. "Look at the bushes of red flowers,
and all the nodding blue bells! Oh, if I could but get out and pick
some!"
Heidi ran off at once and picked her a large nosegay of them.
"But these are nothing, Clara," she said, laying the flowers on her
lap. "If you could come up higher to where the goats are feeding, then
you would indeed see something! Bushes on bushes of the red centaury,
and ever so many more of the blue-bell flowers; and then the bright
yellow rock roses, that gleam like pure gold, and all crowding together
in the one spot. And then there are others with the large leaves that
grandfather calls Bright Eyes, and the brown ones with little round
heads that smell so delicious. Oh, it is beautiful up there, and if you
sit down among them you never want to get up again, everything looks
and smells so lovely!"
Heidi's eyes sparkled with the remembrance of what she was describing;
she was longing herself to see it all again, and Clara caught her
enthusiasm and looked back at her with equal longing in her soft blue
eyes.
"Grandmamma, do you think I could get up there? Is it possible for
me to go?" she asked eagerly. "If only I could walk, climb about
everywhere with you, Heidi!"
"I am sure I could push you up, the chair goes so easily," said Heidi,
and in proof of her words, she sent the chair at such a pace round the
corner that it nearly went flying down the mountain-side. Grandmamma
being at hand, however, stopped it in time.
The grandfather, meantime, had not been idle. He had by this time put
the table and extra chairs in front of the seat, so that they might all
sit out here and eat the dinner that was preparing inside. The milk
and the cheese were soon ready, and then the company sat down in high
spirits to their mid-day meal.
Grandmamma was enchanted, as the doctor had been, with their
dining-room, whence one could see far along the valley, and far over
the mountains to the farthest stretch of blue sky. A light wind blew
refreshingly over them as they sat at table, and the rustling of the
fir trees made a festive accompaniment to the repast.
"I never enjoyed anything as much as this. It is really superb!" cried
grandmamma two or three times over; and then suddenly in a tone of
surprise, "Do I really see you taking a second piece of toasted cheese,
Clara!"
There, sure enough, was a second golden-colored slice of cheese on
Clara's plate.
"Oh, it does taste so nice, Grandmamma--better than all the dishes we
have at Ragatz," replied Clara, as she continued eating with appetite.
"That's right, eat what you can!" exclaimed Uncle. "It's the mountain
air, which makes up for the deficiencies of the kitchen."
And so the meal went on. Grandmamma and Alm-Uncle got on very well
together, and their conversation became more and more lively. They were
so thoroughly agreed in their opinions of men and things and the world
in general that they might have been taken for old cronies. The time
passed merrily, and then grandmamma looked towards the west and said,--
"We must soon get ready to go, Clara, the sun is a good way down; the
men will be here directly with the horse and sedan."
Clara's face fell, and she said beseechingly, "Oh, just another hour,
Grandmamma, or two hours. We haven't seen inside the hut yet, or
Heidi's bed, or any of the other things. If only the day was ten hours
long!"
"Well, that is not possible," said grandmamma, but she herself was
anxious to see inside the hut, so they all rose from the table and
Uncle wheeled Clara's chair to the door. But there they came to a
standstill, for the chair was much too broad to pass through the door.
Uncle, however, soon settled the difficulty by lifting Clara in his
strong arms and carrying her inside.
Grandmamma went all round and examined the household arrangements, and
was very much amused and pleased at their orderliness and the cozy
appearance of everything. "And this is your bedroom up here, Heidi, is
it not?" she asked, as without fear she mounted the ladder to the hay
loft. "Oh, it does smell sweet, what a healthy place to sleep in." She
went up to the round window and looked out, and grandfather followed up
with Clara in his arms, Heidi springing up after them. Then they all
stood and examined Heidi's wonderful hay-bed, and grandmamma looked
thoughtfully at it and drew in from time to time fragrant draughts of
the hay-perfumed air, while Clara was charmed beyond words with the
sleeping apartment.
"It is delightful for you up here, Heidi! You can look from your bed
straight into the sky, and then such a delicious smell all round you!
and outside the fir trees waving and rustling! I have never seen such a
pleasant, cheerful bedroom before."
Uncle looked across at the grandmamma. "I have been thinking," he
said to her, "that if you were willing to agree to it, your little
granddaughter might remain up here, and I am sure she would grow
stronger. You have brought up all kinds of shawls and covers with you,
and we could make up a soft bed out of them, and as to looking after
the child, you need have no fear, for I will see to that."
Clara and Heidi were as overjoyed at these words as if they were
two birds let out of their cages, and grandmamma's face beamed with
satisfaction.
"You are indeed kind, my dear Uncle," she exclaimed. "I was just
thinking myself that a stay up here might be the very thing she wanted.
But then the trouble, the inconvenience to yourself! And you speak of
nursing and looking after her as if it were a mere nothing! I thank you
sincerely, I thank you from my whole heart, Uncle." And she took his
hand and gave it a long and grateful shake, which he returned with a
pleased expression of countenance.
Uncle immediately set to work to get things ready. He carried Clara
back to her chair outside, Heidi following, not knowing how to jump
high enough into the air to express her contentment. Then he gathered
up a whole pile of shawls and furs and said, smiling, "It is a good
thing that grandmamma came up well provided for a winter's campaign; we
shall be able to make good use of these."
The two had meanwhile ascended to the hay-loft and begun to prepare a
bed; there were so many articles piled one over the other that when
finished it looked like a regular little fortress. Grandmamma passed
her hand carefully over it to make sure that there were no bits of hay
sticking out. "If there's a bit that can come through it will," she
said. The soft mattress, however, was so smooth and thick that nothing
could penetrate it. Then they went down again well satisfied, and found
the children laughing and talking together and arranging all they were
going to do from morning till evening as long as Clara stayed. The
next question was how long she was to remain, and first grandmamma was
asked, but she referred them to the grandfather, who gave it as his
opinion that she ought to make trial of the mountain air for at least
a month. The children clapped their hands for joy, for they had not
expected to be together for so long a time.
The bearers and the horse and guide were now seen approaching; the
former were sent back at once, and grandmamma prepared to mount for her
return journey.
"It's not saying good-bye, Grandmamma," Clara called out, "for you will
come up now and then and see how we are getting on, and we shall so
look forward to your visits."
Grandmamma mounted her sturdy animal, and Uncle took the bridle to lead
her down the steep mountain path; she begged him not to come far with
her, but he insisted on seeing her safely as far as Doerfli, for the
way was precipitous and not without danger for the rider, he said.
Grandmamma did not care to stay alone in Doerfli, and therefore decided
to return to Ragatz, and thence to make excursions up the mountain from
time to time.
[Illustration]
Peter came down with his goats before Uncle had returned. As soon as
the animals caught sight of Heidi they all came flocking towards her,
and she, as well as Clara on her couch, were soon surrounded by the
goats, pushing and poking their heads one over the other, while Heidi
introduced each in turn by its name to her friend Clara.
It was not long before the latter had made the long-wished-for
acquaintance of little Snowflake, the lively Greenfinch, and the
well-behaved goats belonging to grandfather, as well as of the many
others, including the Grand Turk. Peter meanwhile stood apart looking
on, and casting somewhat unfriendly glances towards Clara.
When the two children called out, "Good-evening, Peter," he made no
answer, but swung his stick angrily, as if wanting to cut the air in
two, and then ran off with his goats after him.
The climax to all the beautiful things that Clara had already seen upon
the mountain came at the close of the day.
As she lay on the large, soft bed in the hay loft, with Heidi near her,
she looked out through the round, open window right into the middle of
the shining clusters of stars, and she exclaimed in delight,--
"Heidi, it's just as if we were in a high carriage and were going to
drive straight into heaven."
"Yes, and do you know why the stars are so happy and look down and nod
to us like that?" asked Heidi.
"No, why is it?" Clara asked in return.
"Because they live up in heaven, and know how well God arranges
everything for us, so that we need have no more fear or trouble and
may be quite sure that all things will come right in the end. But then
we must never forget to pray, and to ask God to remember us when He
is arranging things, so that we too may feel safe and have no anxiety
about what is going to happen."
The two children now sat up and said their prayers, and then Heidi put
her head down on her little round arm and fell off to sleep at once,
but Clara lay awake some time, for she could not get over the wonder
of this new experience of being in bed up here among the stars. She
had indeed seldom seen a star, for she never went outside the house at
night, and the curtains at home were always drawn before the stars came
out. Each time she closed her eyes she felt she must open them again to
see if the two very large stars were still looking in, and nodding to
her as Heidi said they did. There they were, always in the same place.
At last her eyes closed of their own accord, and it was only in her
dreams that she still saw the two large, friendly stars shining down
upon her.