Heidi (25 page)

It was a bright sunny autumn month. The doctor came up to the
hut every morning, and thence made excursions over the mountain.
Alm-Uncle accompanied him on some of his higher ascents, when
they climbed up to the ancient storm-beaten fir trees and often
disturbed the great bird which rose startled from its nest, with
the whirl of wings and croakings, very near their heads. The
doctor found great pleasure in his companion's conversation, and
was astonished at his knowledge of the plants that grew on the
mountain: he knew the uses of them all, from the aromatic fir
trees and the dark pines with their scented needles, to the
curly moss that sprang up everywhere about the roots of the trees
and the smallest plant and tiniest flower. He was as well versed
also in the ways of the animals, great and small, and had many
amusing anecdotes to tell of these dwellers in caves and holes
and in the tops of the fir trees. And so the time passed
pleasantly and quickly for the doctor, who seldom said good-bye
to the old man at the end of the day without adding, "I never
leave you, friend, without having learnt something new from you."

On some of the very finest days, however, the doctor would
wander out again with Heidi, and then the two would sit together
as on the first day, and the child would repeat her hymns and
tell the doctor things which she alone knew. Peter sat at a
little distance from them, but he was now quite reconciled in
spirit and gave vent to no angry pantomime.

September had drawn to its close, and now one morning the doctor
appeared looking less cheerful than usual. It was his last day,
he said, as he must return to Frankfurt, but he was grieved at
having to say good-bye to the mountain, which he had begun to
feel quite like home. Alm-Uncle, on his side, greatly regretted
the departure of his guest, and Heidi had been now accustomed
for so long to see her good friend every day that she could
hardly believe the time had suddenly come to separate. She looked
up at him in doubt, taken by surprise, but there was no help, he
must go. So he bid farewell to the old man and asked that Heidi
might go with him part of the return way, and Heidi took his hand
and went down the mountain with him, still unable to grasp the
idea that he was going for good. After some distance the doctor
stood still, and passing his hand over the child's curly head
said, "Now, Heidi, you must go back, and I must say good-bye! If
only I could take you with me to Frankfurt and keep you there!"

The picture of Frankfurt rose before the child's eyes, its rows
of endless houses, its hard streets, and even the vision of
Fraulein Rottenmeier and Tinette, and she answered hesitatingly,
"I would rather that you came back to us."

"Yes, you are right, that would be better. But now good-bye,
Heidi." The child put her hand in his and looked up at him; the
kind eyes looking down on her had tears in them. Then the doctor
tore himself away and quickly continued his descent.

Heidi remained standing without moving. The friendly eyes with
the tears in them had gone to her heart. All at once she burst
into tears and started running as fast as she could after the
departing figure, calling out in broken tones: "Doctor! doctor!"

He turned round and waited till the child reached him. The tears
were streaming down her face and she sobbed out: "I will come to
Frankfurt with you, now at once, and I will stay with you as
long as you like, only I must just run back and tell
grandfather."

The doctor laid his hand on her and tried to calm her
excitement. "No, no, dear child," he said kindly, "not now; you
must stay for the present under the fir trees, or I should have
you ill again. But hear now what I have to ask you. If I am ever
ill and alone, will you come then and stay with me? May I know
that there would then be some one to look after me and care for
me?"

"Yes, yes, I will come the very day you send for me, and I love
you nearly as much as grandfather," replied Heidi, who had not
yet got over her distress.

And so the doctor again bid her good-bye and started on his way,
while Heidi remained looking after him and waving her hand as
long as a speck of him could be seen. As the doctor turned for
the last time and looked back at the waving Heidi and the sunny
mountain, he said to himself, "It is good to be up there, good
for body and soul, and a man might learn how to be happy once
more."

The snow was lying so high around the hut that the windows
looked level with the ground, and the door had entirely
disappeared from view. If Alm-Uncle had been up there he would
have had to do what Peter did daily, for fresh snow fell every
night. Peter had to get out of the window of the sitting-room
every morning, and if the frost had not been very hard during the
night, he immediately sank up to his shoulders almost in the snow
and had to struggle with hands, feet, and head to extricate
himself. Then his mother handed him the large broom, and with
this he worked hard to make a way to the door. He had to be
careful to dig the snow well away, or else as soon as the door
was opened the whole soft mass would fall inside, or, if the
frost was severe enough, it would have made such a wall of ice in
front of the house that no one could have gone in or out, for the
window was only big enough for Peter to creep through. The fresh
snow froze like this in the night sometimes, and this was an
enjoyable time for Peter, for he would get through the window on
to the hard, smooth, frozen ground, and his mother would hand him
out the little sleigh, and he could then make his descent to
Dorfli along any route he chose, for the whole mountain was
nothing but one wide, unbroken sleigh road.

Alm-Uncle had kept his word and was not spending the winter in
his old home. As soon as the first snow began to fall, he had
shut up the hut and the outside buildings and gone down to
Dorfli with Heidi and the goats. Near the church was a straggling
half-ruined building, which had once been the house of a person
of consequence. A distinguished soldier had lived there at one
time; he had taken service in Spain and had there performed many
brave deeds and gathered much treasure. When he returned home to
Dorfli he spent part of his booty in building a fine house, with
the intention of living in it. But he had been too long
accustomed to the noise and bustle of arms and the world to care
for a quiet country life, and he soon went off again, and this
time did not return. When after many long years it seemed
certain that he was dead, a distant relative took possession of
the house, but it had already fallen into disrepair, and he had
no wish to rebuild it. So it was let to poor people, who paid but
a small rent, and when any part of the building fell it was
allowed to remain. This had now gone on for many years. As long
ago as when his son Tobias was a child Alm-Uncle had rented the
tumble- down old place. Since then it had stood empty, for no one
could stay in it who had not some idea of how to stop up the
holes and gaps and make it habitable. Otherwise the wind and rain
and snow blew into the rooms, so that it was impossible even to
keep a candle alight, and the indwellers would have been frozen
to death during the long cold winters. Alm-Uncle, however, knew
how to mend matters. As soon as he made up his mind to spend the
winter in Dorfli, he rented the old place and worked during the
autumn to get it sound and tight. In the middle of October he and
Heidi took up their residence there.

On approaching the house from the back one came first into an
open space with a wall on either side, of which one was half in
ruins. Above this rose the arch of an old window thickly
overgrown with ivy, which spread over the remains of a domed
roof that had evidently been part of a chapel. A large hall came
next, which lay open, without doors, to the square outside. Here
also walls and roof only partially remained, and indeed what was
left of the roof looked as if it might fall at any minute had it
not been for two stout pillars that supported it. Alm-Uncle had
here put up a wooden partition and covered the floor with straw,
for this was to be the goats' house. Endless passages led from
this, through the rents of which the sky as well as the fields
and the road outside could be seen at intervals; but at last one
came to a stout oak door that led into a room that still stood
intact. Here the walls and the dark wainscoting remained as good
as ever, and in the corner was an immense stove reaching nearly
to the ceiling, on the white tiles of which were painted large
pictures in blue. These represented old castles surrounded with
trees, and huntsmen riding out with their hounds; or else a quiet
lake scene, with broad oak trees and a man fishing. A seat ran
all round the stove so that one could sit at one's ease and study
the pictures. These attracted Heidi's attention at once, and she
had no sooner arrived with her grandfather than she ran and
seated herself and began to examine them. But when she had
gradually worked herself round to the back, something else
diverted her attention. In the large space between the stove and
the wall four planks had been put together as if to make a large
receptacle for apples; there were no apples, however, inside, but
something Heidi had no difficulty in recognising, for it was her
very own bed, with its hay mattress and sheets, and sack for a
coverlid, just as she had it up at the hut. Heidi clapped her
hands for joy and exclaimed, "O grandfather, this is my room, how
nice! But where are you going to sleep?"

"Your room must be near the stove or you will freeze," he
replied, "but you can come and see mine too."

Heidi got down and skipped across the large room after her
grandfather, who opened a door at the farther end leading into a
smaller one which was to be his bedroom. Then came another door.
Heidi pushed it open and stood amazed, for here was an immense
room like a kitchen, larger than anything of the kind that Heidi
had seen before. There was still plenty of work for the
grandfather before this room could be finished, for there were
holes and cracks in the walls through which the wind whistled,
and yet he had already nailed up so many new planks that it
looked as if a lot of small cupboards had been set up round the
room. He had, however, made the large old door safe with many
screws and nails, as a protection against the outside air, and
this was very necessary, for just beyond was a mass of ruined
buildings overgrown with tall weeds, which made a dwelling-place
for endless beetles and lizards.

Heidi was very delighted with her new home, and by the morning
after their arrival she knew every nook and corner so thoroughly
that she could take Peter over it and show him all that was to
be seen; indeed she would not let him go till he had examined
every single wonderful thing contained in it.

Heidi slept soundly in her corner by the stove; but every
morning when she first awoke she still thought she was on the
mountain, and that she must run outside at once to see if the fir
trees were so quiet because their branches were weighed down with
the thick snow. She had to look about her for some minutes before
she felt quite sure where she was, and a certain sensation of
trouble and oppression would come over her as she grew aware that
she was not at home in the hut. But then she would hear her
grandfather's voice outside, attending to the goats, and these
would give one or two loud bleats, as if calling to her to make
haste and go to them, and then Heidi was happy again, for she
knew she was still at home, and she would jump gladly out of bed
and run out to the animals as quickly as she could. On the fourth
morning, as soon as she saw her grandfather, she said, "I must go
up to see grandmother to-day; she ought not to be alone so long."

But the grandfather would not agree to this. "Neither to-day nor
to-morrow can you go," he said; "the mountain is covered fathom-
deep in snow, and the snow is still falling; the sturdy Peter can
hardly get along. A little creature like you would soon be
smothered by it, and we should not be able to find you again.
Wait a bit till it freezes, then you will be able to walk over
the hard snow."

Heidi did not like the thought of having to wait, but the days
were so busy that she hardly knew how they went by.

Heidi now went to school in Dorfli every morning and afternoon,
and eagerly set to work to learn all that was taught her. She
hardly ever saw Peter there, for as a rule he was absent. The
teacher was an easy-going man who merely remarked now and then,
"Peter is not turning up to-day again, it seems, but there is a
lot of snow up on the mountain and I daresay he cannot get
along." Peter, however, always seemed able to make his way
through the snow in the evening when school was over, and he
then generally paid Heidi a visit.

At last, after some days, the sun again appeared and shone
brightly over the white ground, but he went to bed again behind
the mountains at a very early hour, as if he did not find such
pleasure in looking down on the earth as when everything was
green and flowery. But then the moon came out clear and large
and lit up the great white snowfield all through the night, and
the next morning the whole mountain glistened and sparkled like a
huge crystal. When Peter got out of his window as usual, he was
taken by surprise, for instead of sinking into the soft snow he
fell on the hard ground and went sliding some way down the
mountain side like a sleigh before he could stop himself. He
picked himself up and tested the hardness of the ground by
stamping on it and trying with all his might to dig his heels
into it, but even then he could not break off a single little
splinter of ice; the Alm was frozen hard as iron. This was just
what Peter had been hoping for, as he knew now that Heidi would
be able to come up to them. He quickly got back into the house,
swallowed the milk which his mother had put ready for him,
thrust a piece of bread in his pocket, and said, "I must be off
to school." "That's right, go and learn all you can," said the
grandmother encouragingly. Peter crept through the window again—
the door was quite blocked by the frozen snow outside—pulling
his little sleigh after him, and in another minute was shooting
down the mountain.