It was the third week of Clara’s stay. Every morning after the grandfather had carried her down, he said to her: “Would my Clara try to stand a little?” Clara always sighed, “Oh, it hurts me so!” but though she would cling to him, he made her stand a little longer every day.
This summer was the finest that had been for years. Day after day the sun shone on a cloudless sky, and at night it would pour its purple, rosy light down on the rocks and snowfields till everything seemed to glow like fire.
Heidi had told Clara over and over again of all the flowers on the pasture, of the masses of golden roses and the blue-flowers that covered the ground. She had just been telling it again, when a longing seized her, and jumping up she ran over to her grandfather, who was busy carving in the shop.
“Oh, grandfather,” she cried from afar, “won’t you come with us to the pasture tomorrow? Oh, it’s so beautiful up there now.”
“All right, I will,” he replied; “but tell Clara that she must do something to please me; she must try to stand longer this evening for me.”
Heidi merrily came running with her message. Of course, Clara promised, for was it not her greatest wish to go up with Heidi to the pasture! When Peter returned this evening, he heard of the plan for the morrow. But for answer Peter only growled, nearly hitting poor Thistlefinch in his anger.
The children had just resolved to stay awake all night to talk about the coming day, when their conversation suddenly ceased and they were both peacefully slumbering. In her dreams Clara saw before her a field that was thickly strewn with light-blue flowers, while Heidi heard the eagle scream to her from above, “Come, come, come!”
XXII
Something Unexpected Happens
The next day dawned cloudless and fair. The grandfather was still with the children, when Peter came climbing up; his goats kept at a good distance from him, to evade the rod, which was striking right and left. The truth was that the boy was terribly embittered and angry by the changes that had come. When he passed the hut in the morning, Heidi was always busy with the strange child, and in the evening it was the same. All summer long Heidi had not been up with him a single time; it was too much! And today she was coming at last, but again in company with this hateful stranger.
It was then that Peter noticed the rolling-chair standing near the hut. After carefully glancing about him, he rushed at the hated object and pushed it down the incline. The chair fairly flew away and had soon disappeared.
Peter’s conscience smote him now, and he raced up the Alp, not daring to pause till he had reached a blackberry bush. There he could hide, when the uncle might appear. Looking down, he watched his fallen enemy tumbling downwards, downwards.
Sometimes it was thrown high up into the air, to crash down again the next moment harder than ever. Pieces were falling from it right and left, and were blown about. Now the stranger would have to travel home and Heidi would be his again! But Peter had forgotten that a bad deed always brings a punishment.
Heidi just now came out of the hut. The grandfather, with Clara, followed. Heidi at first stood still, and then, running right and left, she returned to the old man.
“What does this mean? Have you rolled the chair away Heidi?” he asked.
“I am just looking for it everywhere, grandfather. You said it was beside the shop door,” said the child, still hunting for the missing object. A strong wind was blowing, which at this moment violently closed the shop-door.
“Grandfather, the wind has done it,” exclaimed Heidi eagerly. “Oh dear! if it has rolled all the way down to the village, it will be too late to go today. It will take us a long time to fetch it.”
“If it has rolled down there, we shall never get it any more, for it will be smashed to pieces,” said the old man, looking down and measuring the distance from the corner of the hut.
“I don’t see how it happened,” he remarked.
“What a shame! now I’ll never be able to go up to the pasture,” lamented Clara. “I am afraid I’ll have to go home now. What a pity, what a pity!”
“You can find a way for her to stay, grandfather, can’t you?”
“We’ll go up to the pasture today, as we have planned. Then we shall see what further happens.”
The children were delighted, and the grandfather lost no time in getting ready. First he fetched a pile of covers, and seating Clara on a sunny spot on the dry ground, he got their breakfast.
“I wonder why Peter is so late today,” he said, leading his goats out of the shed. Then, lifting Clara up on one strong arm, he carried the covers on the other.
“Now, march!” he cried. “The goats come with us.”
That suited Heidi, and with one arm round Schwänli and the other round Bärli, she wandered up. Her little companions were so pleased at having her with them again that they nearly crushed her with affection.
What was their astonishment when, arriving on top, they saw Peter already lying on the ground, with his peaceful flock about him.
“What did you mean by going by us like that? I’ll teach you!” called the uncle to him.
Peter was frightened, for he knew the voice.
“Nobody was up yet,” the boy retorted.
“Have you seen the chair?” asked the uncle again.
“Which?” Peter growled.
The uncle said no more. Unfolding the covers, he put Clara down on the dry grass. Then, when he had been assured of Clara’s comfort, he got ready to go home. The three were to stay there till
