HAPPY DAYS FOR THE LITTLE VISITOR
Next morning at sunrise Alm-Uncle went softly up the ladder to see if
the children were awake yet. Clara had just opened her eyes and was
looking with wonder at the bright sunlight that shone through the round
window and danced and sparkled about her bed. She could not at first
think where she was, until she caught sight of Heidi sleeping beside
her, and heard the grandfather's cheery voice asking her if she had
slept well. She assured him that when she had once fallen asleep she
had not opened her eyes again all night. The grandfather was satisfied
at this and immediately began to help her dress with so much gentleness
and understanding that it seemed as if his chief calling had been to
look after sick children.
When Heidi awoke she was surprised to see Clara dressed, and already
in the grandfather's arms ready to be carried down. She hurried up too
and soon ran down the ladder and out of the hut, and there further
astonishment awaited her, for grandfather had been busy the night
before after they were in bed. Seeing that it was impossible to get
Clara's chair through the hut-door, he had taken down two of the boards
at the side of the shed and made an opening large enough to admit the
chair; these he left loose so that they could be taken away and put up
at pleasure. He was at this moment wheeling Clara out into the sun; he
left her in front of the hut while he went to look after the goats and
Heidi ran up to her friend.
"O Heidi, if only I could stay up here for ever with you," exclaimed
Clara happily, turning in her chair from side to side that she might
drink in the air and sun from all quarters.
"Now you see that it is just what I told you," replied Heidi delighted;
"that it is the most beautiful thing in the world to be up here with
grandfather."
The latter at that moment appeared coming from the goat shed and
bringing two small foaming bowls of snow-white milk--one for Clara and
one for Heidi.
"That will do the little daughter good," he said, nodding to Clara; "it
is from Little Swan and will make her strong. To your health, child!
drink it up."
Clara had never tasted goat's milk before; she hesitated and smelt
it before putting it to her lips, but seeing how Heidi drank hers up
without hesitating, and how much she seemed to like it, Clara did the
same, and drank till there was not a drop left, for she too found it
delicious, tasting just as if sugar and cinnamon had been mixed with it.
"Tomorrow we will drink two," said the grandfather, who had looked on
with satisfaction at seeing her follow Heidi's example.
When Peter arrived with the goats, Uncle drew him aside and said, "From
today be sure you let Little Swan go where she likes. She knows where
to find the best food for herself, and so if she wants to climb higher,
you follow her, and it will do the others no harm if they go too. A
little more climbing won't hurt you, and in this matter she probably
knows better than you what is good for her; I want her to give as fine
milk as possible. So now be off and remember what I say, and don't look
so cross about it."
Peter was accustomed to give immediate obedience to Uncle, and he
marched off with his goats, but with a turn of the head and roll of
the eye that showed he had some thought in reserve. The goats carried
Heidi along with them a little way, which was what Peter wanted. "You
will have to come with them," he called to her, "for I shall be obliged
to follow Little Swan."
[Illustration: A STRANGE-LOOKING PROCESSION WAS MAKING ITS WAY
UP THE MOUNTAIN]
"I cannot," Heidi called back from the midst of her friends, "and I
shall not be able to come for a long, long time--not as long as Clara
is with me. Grandfather, however, has promised to go up the mountain
with both of us some day."
As Heidi ran back to Clara, Peter doubled his fists and made
threatening gestures towards the invalid on her couch, and then climbed
up some distance without pause until he was out of sight, for he was
afraid Uncle might have seen him.
Clara and Heidi had made so many plans for themselves that they hardly
knew where to begin. Heidi suggested that they should first write to
grandmamma, to whom they had promised to send word every day, for
grandmamma had not felt sure whether it would in the long run suit
Clara's health to remain up the mountain. With daily news of her
granddaughter she could stay on without anxiety at Ragatz, and yet be
ready to go to Clara at a moment's notice.
"Must we go indoors to write?" asked Clara. It is so much nicer out
here. So Heidi ran in and brought out her school-book and writing
things and her own little stool. She put her reading book and copy
book on Clara's knees, to make a desk for her to write upon, and she
herself took her seat on the stool by the bench, and then they both
began writing to grandmamma. But Clara paused after every sentence
to look about her; it was too beautiful for much letter writing. The
breeze had sunk a little, and now only gently fanned her face and
whispered lightly through the fir trees. Now and again the call of some
shepherd-boy rang out through the air, and the echo answered softly
from the rocks. Thus the morning passed, the children hardly knew how,
and soon grandfather came with the mid-day bowls of steaming milk. Then
Heidi pushed Clara's chair under the fir trees, where they spent the
afternoon in the shade, telling each other all that had happened since
last they met. So the hours flew by and all at once, as it seemed, the
evening had come with the returning Peter, who still scowled and looked
angry.
[Illustration]
"Good-night, Peter," called out Heidi, as she saw he had no intention
of stopping to speak.
"Good-night, Peter," called out Clara in a friendly voice. Peter took
no notice and went surlily on with his goats.
As Clara saw the grandfather leading away Little Swan to milk her, she
was suddenly taken with a longing for another bowlful of the fragrant
milk, and waited impatiently for it.
"Isn't it curious, Heidi," she said, astonished at herself, "as long
as I can remember I have only eaten because I was obliged to, and
everything used to seem to taste of cod liver oil, and I was always
wishing there was no need to eat or drink; and now I am longing for
grandfather to bring me the milk."
"Yes, I know what it feels like," replied Heidi, who remembered the
many days in Frankfurt when all her food used to seem to stick in
her throat. When grandfather at last brought the evening milk, Clara
drank it up so quickly that she had emptied her bowl before Heidi, and
then she asked for a little more. The grandfather went inside with
both the children's bowls, and when he brought them out again full he
had something else to add to their supper. He had walked over that
afternoon to a herdsman's house where the sweetly-tasting butter was
made, and had brought home a large pat, some of which he had now spread
thickly on two good slices of bread.
That night, when Clara lay down in her bed and prepared to watch the
stars, her eyes would not keep open, and she fell asleep as soon as
Heidi and slept soundly all night--a thing she never remembered having
done before. The following day and the day after passed in the same
pleasant fashion, and the third day there came a surprise for the
children. Two stout porters came up the mountain, each carrying a
bed on his shoulders with bedding of all kinds and two beautiful new
white coverlids. The men also had a letter with them from grandmamma,
in which she said that these were for Clara and Heidi, and that Heidi
in future was always to sleep in a proper bed, and when she went down
to Doerfli in the winter she was to take one with her and leave the
other at the hut, so that Clara might always know there was a bed ready
for her when she paid a visit to the mountain. She went on to thank
the children for their long letters and encouraged them to continue
writing daily, so that she might be able to picture all they were doing.
Grandfather went up the ladder and threw back the hay from Heidi's
bed on to the great heap, and soon the beds were put up close to one
another so that the children might still be able to see out of the
window, for he knew what pleasure they had in the light from the sun
and stars.
Meanwhile grandmamma down at Ragatz was rejoicing at the excellent
news of the invalid which reached her daily from the mountain. Clara
found the life more charming each day and could not say enough of the
kindness and care which the grandfather lavished upon her, nor of
Heidi's lively and amusing companionship.
Having such fresh assurances each day that all was going well with
Clara, grandmamma thought she might put off her visit to the children a
little longer, for the steep ride up and down was somewhat of a fatigue
to her.
The grandfather seemed to feel an especial sympathy for his little
invalid charge, for he tried to think of something fresh every day to
help forward her recovery. He climbed up the mountain every afternoon,
higher and higher each day, and came home in the evening with large
bunches of leaves which scented the air with a mingled fragrance as of
carnations and thyme. He hung them up in the goat shed for Little Swan
to eat so that she might give extra fine milk.
Clara had now been on the mountain for three weeks. For some days past
the grandfather, each morning after carrying her down, had said, "Won't
the little daughter try if she can stand for a minute or two?" And
Clara had made the effort in order to please him, but had clung to him
as soon as her feet touched the ground, exclaiming that it hurt her so.
He let her try a little longer, however, each day.
It was many years since they had had such a splendid summer among
the mountains. Day after day there were the same cloudless sky and
brilliant sun; the flowers opened wide their fragrant blossoms, and
everywhere the eye was greeted with a glow of color; and when the
evening came the crimson light fell on mountain peaks and on the great
snow-field, till at last the sun sank in a sea of golden flame.
Heidi never tired of telling Clara of the beauty of the spot on the
higher slope of the mountain, where the bright golden rock-roses grew
in masses, and the blue flowers were in such numbers that the very
grass seemed to have turned blue. An irrepressible longing came over
her to see it all once more. She ran to her grandfather, who was in the
shed, calling out almost before she was inside,--
"Grandfather, will you take us out with the goats tomorrow? Oh, it is
so lovely up there now!"
"Very well," he answered, "but if I do, little Clara must do something
to please me: she must try her best again this evening to stand on her
feet."
Heidi ran back with the good news to Clara, and the latter promised to
try her very best as the grandfather wished, for she looked forward
immensely to the next day's excursion. Heidi was so pleased and excited
that she called out to Peter as soon as she caught sight of him that
evening,--
"Peter, Peter, we are all coming out with you tomorrow and are going to
stay up there the whole day."
Peter, cross as a bear, grumbled some reply, and lifted his stick to
give Greenfinch a blow for no reason in particular, but Greenfinch saw
the movement, and with a leap over Snowflake's back she got out of the
way, and the stick only hit the air.
Clara and Heidi got into their two fine beds that night full of
delightful anticipation of the morrow; they were so full of their plans
that they agreed to keep awake all night and talk over them. But their
heads had no sooner touched their soft pillows than the conversation
suddenly ceased, and Clara fell into a dream of an immense field,
which looked the color of the sky, so thickly inlaid was it with blue,
bell-shaped flowers; and Heidi heard the great bird of prey calling to
her from the heights above, "Come! come! come!"