Authors: Johanna Spyri
Against the hut, on the side looking towards the valley, Uncle
had put up a seat. Here he was sitting, his pipe in his mouth
and his hands on his knees, quietly looking out, when the
children, the goats and Cousin Dete suddenly clambered into view.
Heidi was at the top first. She went straight up to the old man,
put out her hand, and said, "Good-evening, Grandfather."
"So, so, what is the meaning of this?" he asked gruffly, as he
gave the child an abrupt shake of the hand, and gazed long and
scrutinisingly at her from under his bushy eyebrows. Heidi
stared steadily back at him in return with unflinching gaze, for
the grandfather, with his long beard and thick grey eyebrows that
grew together over his nose and looked just like a bush, was
such a remarkable appearance, that Heidi was unable to take her
eyes off him. Meanwhile Dete had come up, with Peter after her,
and the latter now stood still a while to watch what was going
on.
"I wish you good-day, Uncle," said Dete, as she walked towards
him, "and I have brought you Tobias and Adelaide's child. You
will hardly recognise her, as you have never seen her since she
was a year old."
"And what has the child to do with me up here?" asked the old
man curtly. "You there," he then called out to Peter, "be off
with your goats, you are none too early as it is, and take mine
with you."
Peter obeyed on the instant and quickly disappeared, for the old
man had given him a look that made him feel that he did not want
to stay any longer.
"The child is here to remain with you," Dete made answer. "I
have, I think, done my duty by her for these four years, and now
it is time for you to do yours."
"That's it, is it?" said the old man, as he looked at her with a
flash in his eye. "And when the child begins to fret and whine
after you, as is the way with these unreasonable little beings,
what am I to do with her then?"
"That's your affair," retorted Dete. "I know I had to put up
with her without complaint when she was left on my hands as an
infant, and with enough to do as it was for my mother and self.
Now I have to go and look after my own earnings, and you are the
next of kin to the child. If you cannot arrange to keep her, do
with her as you like. You will be answerable for the result if
harm happens to her, though you have hardly need, I should think,
to add to the burden already on your conscience."
Now Dete was not quite easy in her own conscience about what she
was doing, and consequently was feeling hot and irritable, and
said more than she had intended. As she uttered her last words,
Uncle rose from his seat. He looked at her in a way that made
her draw back a step or two, then flinging out his arm, he said
to her in a commanding voice: "Be off with you this instant, and
get back as quickly as you can to the place whence you came, and
do not let me see your face again in a hurry."
Dete did not wait to be told twice. "Good-bye to you then, and
to you too, Heidi," she called, as she turned quickly away and
started to descend the mountain at a running pace, which she did
not slacken till she found herself safely again at Dorfli, for
some inward agitation drove her forwards as if a steam-engine
was at work inside her. Again questions came raining down upon
her from all sides, for every one knew Dete, as well as all
particulars of the birth and former history of the child, and
all wondered what she had done with it. From every door and
window came voices calling: "Where is the child?" "Where have you
left the child, Dete?" and more and more reluctantly Dete made
answer, "Up there with Alm-Uncle!" "With Alm-Uncle, have I not
told you so already?"
Then the women began to hurl reproaches at her; first one cried
out, "How could you do such a thing!" then another, "To think of
leaving a helpless little thing up there,"—while again and
again came the words, "The poor mite! the poor mite!" pursuing
her as she went along. Unable at last to bear it any longer Dete
ran forward as fast as she could until she was beyond reach of
their voices. She was far from happy at the thought of what she
had done, for the child had been left in her care by her dying
mother. She quieted herself, however, with the idea that she
would be better able to do something for the child if she was
earning plenty of money, and it was a relief to her to think
that she would soon be far away from all these people who were
making such a fuss about the matter, and she rejoiced further
still that she was at liberty now to take such a good place.
As soon as Dete had disappeared the old man went back to his
bench, and there he remained seated, staring on the ground
without uttering a sound, while thick curls of smoke floated
upward from his pipe. Heidi, meanwhile, was enjoying herself in
her new surroundings; she looked about till she found a shed,
built against the hut, where the goats were kept; she peeped in,
and saw it was empty. She continued her search and presently
came to the fir trees behind the hut. A strong breeze was blowing
through them, and there was a rushing and roaring in their
topmost branches, Heidi stood still and listened. The sound
growing fainter, she went on again, to the farther corner of the
hut, and so round to where her grandfather was sitting. Seeing
that he was in exactly the same position as when she left him,
she went and placed herself in front of the old man, and putting
her hands behind her back, stood and gazed at him. Her
grandfather looked up, and as she continued standing there
without moving, "What is it you want?" he asked.
"I want to see what you have inside the house," said Heidi.
"Come then!" and the grandfather rose and went before her
towards the hut.
"Bring your bundle of clothes in with you," he bid her as she
was following.
"I shan't want them any more," was her prompt answer.
The old man turned and looked searchingly at the child, whose
dark eyes were sparkling in delighted anticipation of what she
was going to see inside. "She is certainly not wanting in
intelligence," he murmured to himself. "And why shall you not
want them any more?" he asked aloud.
"Because I want to go about like the goats with their thin light
legs."
"Well, you can do so if you like," said her grandfather, "but
bring the things in, we must put them in the cupboard."
Heidi did as she was told. The old man now opened the door and
Heidi stepped inside after him; she found herself in a good-
sized room, which covered the whole ground floor of the hut. A
table and a chair were the only furniture; in one corner stood
the grandfather's bed, in another was the hearth with a large
kettle hanging above it; and on the further side was a large door
in the wall—this was the cupboard. The grandfather opened it;
inside were his clothes, some hanging up, others, a couple of
shirts, and some socks and handkerchiefs, lying on a shelf; on a
second shelf were some plates and cups and glasses, and on a
higher one still, a round loaf, smoked meat, and cheese, for
everything that Alm-Uncle needed for his food and clothing was
kept in this cupboard. Heidi, as soon as it was opened, ran
quickly forward and thrust in her bundle of clothes, as far back
behind her grandfather's things as possible, so that they might
not easily be found again. She then looked carefully round the
room, and asked, "Where am I to sleep, grandfather?"
"Wherever you like," he answered.
Heidi was delighted, and began at once to examine all the nooks
and corners to find out where it would be pleasantest to sleep.
In the corner near her grandfather's bed she saw a short ladder
against the wall; up she climbed and found herself in the
hayloft. There lay a large heap of fresh sweet-smelling hay,
while through a round window in the wall she could see right
down the valley.
"I shall sleep up here, grandfather," she called down to him,
"It's lovely, up here. Come up and see how lovely it is!"
"Oh, I know all about it," he called up in answer.
"I am getting the bed ready now," she called down again, as she
went busily to and fro at her work, "but I shall want you to
bring me up a sheet; you can't have a bed without a sheet, you
want it to lie upon."
"All right," said the grandfather, and presently he went to the
cupboard, and after rummaging about inside for a few minutes he
drew out a long, coarse piece of stuff, which was all he had to
do duty for a sheet. He carried it up to the loft, where he
found Heidi had already made quite a nice bed. She had put an
extra heap of hay at one end for a pillow, and had so arranged it
that, when in bed, she would be able to see comfortably out
through the round window.
"That is capital," said her grandfather; "now we must put on the
sheet, but wait a moment first," and he went and fetched another
large bundle of hay to make the bed thicker, so that the child
should not feel the hard floor under her—"there, now bring it
here." Heidi had got hold of the sheet, but it was almost too
heavy for her to carry; this was a good thing, however, as the
close thick stuff would prevent the sharp stalks of the hay
running through and pricking her. The two together now spread
the sheet over the bed, and where it was too long or too broad,
Heidi quickly tucked it in under the hay. It looked now as tidy
and comfortable a bed as you could wish for, and Heidi stood
gazing thoughtfully at her handiwork.
"We have forgotten something now, grandfather," she said after a
short silence.
"What's that?" he asked.
"A coverlid; when you get into bed, you have to creep in between
the sheets and the coverlid."
"Oh, that's the way, is it? But suppose I have not got a
coverlid?" said the old man.
"Well, never mind, grandfather," said Heidi in a consoling tone
of voice, "I can take some more hay to put over me," and she was
turning quickly to fetch another armful from the heap, when her
grandfather stopped her. "Wait a moment," he said, and he
climbed down the ladder again and went towards his bed. He
returned to the loft with a large, thick sack, made of flax,
which he threw down, exclaiming, "There, that is better than hay,
is it not?"
Heidi began tugging away at the sack with all her little might,
in her efforts to get it smooth and straight, but her small
hands were not fitted for so heavy a job. Her grandfather came to
her assistance, and when they had got it tidily spread over the
bed, it all looked so nice and warm and comfortable that Heidi
stood gazing at it in delight. "That is a splendid coverlid," she
said, "and the bed looks lovely altogether! I wish it was night,
so that I might get inside it at once."
"I think we might have something to eat first," said the
grandfather, "what do you think?"
Heidi in the excitement of bed-making had forgotten everything
else; but now when she began to think about food she felt
terribly hungry, for she had had nothing to eat since the piece
of bread and little cup of thin coffee that had been her
breakfast early that morning before starting on her long, hot
journey. So she answered without hesitation, "Yes, I think so
too."
"Let us go down then, as we both think alike," said the old man,
and he followed the child down the ladder. Then he went up to
the hearth, pushed the big kettle aside, and drew forward the
little one that was hanging on the chain, and seating himself on
the round-topped, three-legged stool before the fire, blew it up
into a clear bright flame. The kettle soon began to boil, and
meanwhile the old man held a large piece of cheese on a long
iron fork over the fire, turning it round and round till it was
toasted a nice golden yellow color on each side. Heidi watched
all that was going on with eager curiosity. Suddenly some new
idea seemed to come into her head, for she turned and ran to the
cupboard, and then began going busily backwards and forwards.
Presently the grandfather got up and came to the table with a
jug and the cheese, and there he saw it already tidily laid with
the round loaf and two plates and two knives each in its right
place; for Heidi had taken exact note that morning of all that
there was in the cupboard, and she knew which things would be
wanted for their meal.
"Ah, that's right," said the grandfather, "I am glad to see that
you have some ideas of your own," and as he spoke he laid the
toasted cheese on a layer of bread, "but there is still
something missing."
Heidi looked at the jug that was steaming away invitingly, and
ran quickly back to the cupboard. At first she could only see a
small bowl left on the shelf, but she was not long in
perplexity, for a moment later she caught sight of two glasses
further back, and without an instant's loss of time she returned
with these and the bowl and put them down on the table.
"Good, I see you know how to set about things; but what will you
do for a seat?" The grandfather himself was sitting on the only
chair in the room. Heidi flew to the hearth, and dragging the
three-legged stool up to the table, sat herself down upon it.
"Well, you have managed to find a seat for yourself, I see, only
rather a low one I am afraid," said the grandfather, "but you
would not be tall enough to reach the table even if you sat in
my chair; the first thing now, however, is to have something to
eat, so come along."
With that he stood up, filled the bowl with milk, and placing it
on the chair, pushed it in front of Heidi on her little three-
legged stool, so that she now had a table to herself. Then he
brought her a large slice of bread and a piece of the golden
cheese, and told her to eat. After which he went and sat down on
the corner of the table and began his own meal. Heidi lifted the
bowl with both hands and drank without pause till it was empty,
for the thirst of all her long hot journey had returned upon
her. Then she drew a deep breath—in the eagerness of her thirst
she had not stopped to breathe—and put down the bowl.