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 tomorrow,” he said, for he wanted a compensation for his fright.
“You may have it all tomorrow 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 suppertime.”
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.
