Heidi was awakened early next morning by a loud whistle. Opening her eyes, she saw her little bed and the hay beside her bathed in golden sunlight. For a short while she did not know where she was, but when she heard her grandfather’s deep voice outside, she recollected everything. She remembered how she had come up the mountain the day before and left old Ursula, who was always shivering with cold and sat near the stove all day. While Heidi lived with Ursula, she had always been obliged to keep in the house, where the old woman could see her. Being deaf, Ursula was afraid to let Heidi go outdoors, and the child had often fretted in the narrow room and had longed to run outside. She was therefore delighted to find herself in her new home and hardly could wait to see the goats again. Jumping out of bed, she put on her few things and in a short time went down the ladder and ran outside. Peter was already there with his flock, waiting for Schwänli and Bärli, whom the grandfather was just bringing to join the other goats.
“Do you want to go with him to the pasture?” asked the grandfather.
“Yes,” cried Heidi, clapping her hands.
“Go now, and wash yourself first, for the sun will laugh at you if he sees how dirty you are. Everything is ready there for you,” he added, pointing to a large tub of water that stood in the sun. Heidi did as she was told, and washed and rubbed herself till her cheeks were glowing. In the meanwhile the grandfather called to Peter to come into the hut and bring his bag along. The boy followed the old man, who commanded him to open the bag in which he carried his scanty dinner. The grandfather put into the bag a piece of bread and a slice of cheese, that were easily twice as large as those the boy had in the bag himself.
“The little bowl goes in, too,” said the Uncle, “for the child does not know how to drink straight from the goat, the way you do. She is going to stay with you all day, therefore milk two bowls full for her dinner. Look out that she does not fall over the rocks! Do you hear?”
Just then Heidi came running in. “Grandfather, can the sun still laugh at me?” she asked. The child had rubbed herself so violently with the coarse towel which the grandfather had put beside the tub that her face, neck and arms were as red as a lobster. With a smile the grandfather said: “No, he can’t laugh any more now; but when you come home to-night you must go into the tub like a fish. When one goes about like the goats, one gets dirty feet. Be off!”
They started merrily up the Alp. A cloudless, deep-blue sky looked down on them, for the wind had driven away every little cloud in the night. The fresh green mountain-side was bathed in brilliant sunlight, and many blue and yellow flowers had opened. Heidi was wild with joy and ran from side to side. In one place she saw big patches of fine red primroses, on another spot blue gentians sparkled in the grass, and everywhere the golden rock-roses were nodding to her. In her transport at finding such treasures, Heidi even forgot Peter and his goats. She ran far ahead of him and then strayed away off to one side, for the sparkling flowers tempted her here and there. Picking whole bunches of them to take home with her, she put them all into her little apron.
Peter, whose round eyes could only move about slowly, had a hard time looking out for her. The goats were even worse, and only by shouting and whistling, especially by swinging his rod, could he drive them together.
“Heidi, where are you now?” he called quite angrily.
“Here,” it sounded from somewhere. Peter could not see her, for she was sitting on the ground behind a little mound, which was covered with fragrant flowers. The whole air was filled with their perfume, and the child drew it in, in long breaths.
“Follow me now!” Peter called out. “The grandfather has told me to look out for you, and you must not fall over the rocks.”
“Where are they?” asked Heidi without even stirring.
“Way up there, and we have still far to go. If you come quickly, we may see the eagle there and hear him shriek.”
That tempted Heidi, and she came running to Peter, with her apron full of flowers.
“You have enough now,” he declared. “If you pick them all to-day, there won’t be any left to-morrow.” Heidi admitted that, besides which she had her apron already full. From now on she stayed at Peter’s side. The goats, scenting the pungent herbs, also hurried up without delay.
Peter generally took his quarters for the day at the foot of a high cliff, which seemed to reach far up into the sky. Overhanging rocks on one side made it dangerous, so that the grandfather was wise to warn Peter.
After they had reached their destination, the boy took off his bag, putting it in a little hollow in the ground. The wind often blew in violent gusts up there, and Peter did not want to lose his precious load. Then he lay down in the sunny grass, for he was very tired.
Heidi, taking off her apron, rolled it tightly together and put it beside Peter’s bag. Then, sitting down beside the boy, she looked about her. Far down she saw the glistening valley; a large field of snow rose high in front of her. Heidi sat a long time without stirring, with Peter asleep by her side and the goats climbing about between the bushes. A light breeze fanned her cheek and those big mountains about her made her feel happy as never before. She looked up at the mountain-tops till they all seemed to have faces, and soon they were familiar to her, like old friends. Suddenly she heard a loud, sharp scream, and looking up she beheld the largest bird she had ever seen, flying above her. With outspread wings he flew in large circles over Heidi’s head.
“Wake up, Peter!” Heidi called. “Look up, Peter, and see the eagle there!”
Peter got wide wake, and then they both watched the bird breathlessly. It rose higher and higher into the azure, till it disappeared at last behind the mountain-peak.
“Where has it gone?” Heidi asked.
“Home to its nest,” was Peter’s answer.
“Oh, does it really live way up there? How wonderful that must be! But tell me why it screams so loud?” Heidi inquired.
“Because it has to,” Peter replied.
“Oh, let’s climb up there and see its nest!” implored Heidi, but Peter, expressing decided disapproval in his voice, answered: “Oh dear, Oh dear, not even goats could climb up there! Grandfather has told me not to let you fall down the rocks, so we can’t go!”
Peter now began to call loudly and to whistle, and soon all the goats were assembled on the green field. Heidi ran into their midst, for she loved to see them leaping and playing about.
Peter in the meantime was preparing dinner for Heidi and himself, by putting her large pieces on one side and his own small ones on the other. Then he milked Bärli and put the full bowl in the middle. When he was ready, he called to the little girl. But it took some time before she obeyed his call.
“Stop jumping, now,” said Peter, “and sit down; your dinner is ready.”
“Is this milk for me?” she inquired.
“Yes it is; those large pieces also belong to you. When you are through with the milk, I’ll get you some more. After that I’ll get mine.”
“What milk do you get?” Heidi inquired.
“I get it from my own goat, that speckled one over there. But go ahead and eat!” Peter commanded again. Heidi obeyed, and when the bowl was empty, he filled it again. Breaking off a piece of bread for herself, she gave Peter the rest, which was still bigger than his own portion had been. She handed him also the whole slice of cheese, saying: “You can eat that, I have had enough!”
Peter was speechless with surprise, for it would have been impossible for him ever to give up any of his share. Not taking Heidi in earnest, he hesitated till she put the things on his knees. Then he saw she really meant it, and he seized his prize. Nodding his thanks to her, he ate the most luxurious meal he had ever had in all his life. Heidi was watching the goats in the meantime, and asked Peter for their names.
The boy could tell them all to her, for their names were about the only thing he had to carry in his head. She soon knew them, too, for she had listened attentively. One of them was the Big Turk, who tried to stick his big horns into all the others. Most of the goats ran away from their rough comrade. The bold Thistlefinch alone was not afraid, and running his horns three or four times into the other, so astonished the Turk with his great daring that he stood still and gave up fighting, for the Thistlefinch had sharp horns and met him in the most warlike attitude. A small, white goat, called Snowhopper, kept up bleating in the most piteous way, which induced Heidi to console it several times. Heidi at last went to the little thing again, and throwing her arms around its head, she asked, “What is the matter with you, Snowhopper? Why do you always cry for help?” The little goat pressed close to Heidi’s side and became perfectly quiet. Peter was still eating, but between the swallows he called to Heidi: “She is so unhappy, because the old goat has left us. She was sold to somebody in Mayenfeld two days ago.”
“Who was the old goat?”
“Her mother, of course.”
“Where is her grandmother?”
“She hasn’t any.”
“And her grandfather?”
“Hasn’t any either.”
“Poor little Snowhopper!” said Heidi, drawing the little creature tenderly to her. “Don’t grieve any more; see, I am coming up with you every day now, and if there is anything the matter, you can come to me.”
Snowhopper rubbed her head against Heidi’s shoulder and stopped bleating. When Peter had finally finished his dinner, he joined Heidi.
The little girl had just been observing that Schwänli and Bärli were by far the cleanest and prettiest of the goats. They evaded the obtrusive Turk with a sort of contempt and always managed to find the greenest bushes for themselves. She mentioned it to Peter, who replied: “I know! Of course they are the prettiest, because the uncle washes them and gives them salt. He has the best stable by far.”
All of a sudden Peter, who had been lying on the ground, jumped up and bounded after the goats. Heidi, knowing that something must have happened, followed him. She saw him running to a dangerous abyss on the side. Peter had noticed how the rash Thistlefinch had gone nearer and nearer to the dangerous spot. Peter only just came in time to prevent the goat from falling down over the very edge. Unfortunately Peter had stumbled over a stone in his hurry and was only able to catch the goat by one leg. The Thistlefinch, being enraged to find himself stopped in his charming ramble, bleated furiously. Not being able to get up, Peter loudly called for help. Heidi immediately saw that Peter was nearly pulling off the animal’s leg. She quickly picked some fragrant herbs and holding them under the animal’s nose, she said soothingly: “Come, come, Thistlefinch, and be sensible. You might fall down there and break your leg. That would hurt you horribly.”
The goat turned about and devoured the herbs Heidi held in her hand. When Peter got to his feet, he led back the runaway with Heidi’s help. When he had the goat in safety, he raised his rod to beat it for punishment. The goat retreated shyly, for it knew what was coming. Heidi screamed loudly: “Peter, no, do not beat him! look how scared he is.”
“He well deserves it,” snarled Peter, ready to strike. But Heidi, seizing his arm, shouted, full of indignation: “You mustn’t hurt him! Let him go!”
Heidi’s eyes were sparkling, and when he saw her with her commanding mien, he desisted and dropped his rope. “I’ll let him go, if you give me a piece of your cheese again to-morrow,” he said, for he wanted a compensation for his fright.
“You may have it all to-morrow and every day, because I don’t need it,” Heidi assured him. “I shall also give you a big piece of bread, if you promise never to beat any of the goats.”
“I don’t care,” growled Peter, and in that way he gave his promise.
Thus the day had passed, and the sun was already sinking down behind the mountains. Sitting on the grass, Heidi looked at the bluebells and the wild roses that were shining in the last rays of the sun. The peaks also started to glow, and Heidi suddenly called to the boy: “Oh, Peter, look! everything is on fire. The mountains are burning and the sky, too. Oh, look! the moon over there is on fire, too. Do you see the mountains all in a glow? Oh, how beautiful the snow looks! Peter, the eagle’s nest is surely on fire, too. Oh, look at the fir-trees over there!”
Peter was quietly peeling his rod, and looking up, said to Heidi: “This is no fire; it always looks like that.”
“But what is it then?” asked Heidi eagerly, gazing about her everywhere.
“It gets that way of itself,” explained Peter.
“Oh look! Everything is all rosy now! Oh, look at this mountain over there with the snow and the sharp peaks. What is its name?”
“Mountains have no names,” he answered.
“Oh, see, how beautiful! It looks as if many, many roses were growing on those cliffs. Oh, now they are getting grey. Oh dear! the fire has gone out and it is all over. What a terrible shame!” said Heidi quite despondently.
“It will be the same again tomorrow,” Peter reassured her. “Come now, we have to go home.”
When Peter had called the goats together, they started downwards.
“Will it be like that every day when we are up?” asked Heidi, eagerly.
“It usually is,” was the reply.
“What about tomorrow?” she inquired.
“Tomorrow it will be like that, I am sure,” Peter affirmed.
That made Heidi feel happy again. She walked quietly by Peter’s side, thinking over all the new things she had seen. At last, reaching the hut, they found the grandfather waiting for them on a bench under the fir-trees. Heidi ran up to him and the two goats followed, for they knew their master. Peter called to her: “Come again tomorrow! Good-night!”
Heidi gave him her hand, assuring him that she would come, and finding herself surrounded by the goats, she hugged Snowhopper a last time.
When Peter had disappeared, Heidi returned to her grandfather. “Oh grandfather! it was so beautiful! I saw the fire and the roses on the rocks! And see the many, many flowers I am bringing you!” With that Heidi shook them out of her apron. But oh, how miserable they looked! Heidi did not even know them any more.
“What is the matter with them, grandfather? They looked so different!” Heidi exclaimed in her fright.
“They are made to bloom in the sun and not to be shut up in an apron,” said the grandfather.
“Then I shall never pick them any more! Please, grandfather, tell me why the eagle screeches so loudly,” asked Heidi.
“First go and take a bath, while I go into the shed to get your milk. Afterwards we’ll go inside together and I’ll tell you all about it during supper-time.”
They did as was proposed, and when Heidi sat on her high chair before her milk, she asked the same question as before.
“Because he is sneering at the people down below, who sit in the villages and make each other angry. He calls down to them:—’If you would go apart to live up on the heights like me, you would feel much better!'” The grandfather said these last words with such a wild voice, that it reminded Heidi of the eagle’s screech.
“Why do the mountains have no names, grandfather?” asked Heidi.
“They all have names, and if you tell me their shape I can name them for you.”
Heidi described several and the old man could name them all. The child told him now about all the happenings of the day, and especially about the wonderful fire. She asked how it came about.
“The sun does it,” he exclaimed. “Saying good-night to the mountains, he throws his most beautiful rays to them, that they may not forget him till the morning.”
Heidi was so much pleased with this explanation, that she could hardly wait to see the sun’s good-night greetings repeated. It was time now to go to bed, and Heidi slept soundly all night. She dreamt that the little Snowhopper was bounding happily about on the glowing mountains with many glistening roses blooming round her.