Not far from there, in the canton of Valais, there was an eagle’s nest built very ingeniously in under an overhanging mountain cliff. There was an eaglet there, but it couldn’t be taken. Just a few days ago an Englishman had offered Rudy a whole fistful of gold to bring him the eaglet alive, “but there’s a limit to everything,” he said. “That eagle’s nest is unreachable. It would be madness to undertake it.”
The wine flowed, and talk flowed, but Rudy thought the evening was much too short, and yet it was past midnight when he ended his first visit to the mill.
The lights still shone for a short while through the window and through the green branches. Out from the open venting in the roof came the housecat, and along the gutter came the kitchen cat.
“Is there anything new at the mill?” asked the housecat. “We have a secret engagement in the house! Father doesn’t know about it yet. Rudy and Babette stepped on each other’s paws all evening under the table. They stepped on me twice, but I didn’t miaow because it would have caused attention.”
“Well, I would have miaowed!” said the kitchen cat.
“What’s fitting in the kitchen isn’t fitting in the parlor,” said the housecat. “I just wish I knew what the miller will say when he finds out about the engagement.”
What would the miller say? Rudy wanted to know that too, but he couldn’t wait a long time to find out, and so a few days later, when the coach rolled over the Rhone bridge between Valais and Vaud, Rudy was sitting within, optimistic as usual. He was thinking good thoughts about being accepted that very evening.
And when evening came, and the coach drove the same way back, Rudy was sitting in it again, going back the same way, but at the mill the housecat ran around with news.
“Have you heard about it, kitchen cat? Now the miller knows everything. A fine ending, I’ll say! Rudy got here towards evening, and he and Babette had a lot to whisper about. They were standing in the hallway right outside the miller’s room. I lay by their feet, but they had no word or thought for me. ‘I’m going straight in to your father,’ said Rudy. ‘It’s an honorable matter.’ ‘Shall I go with you?’ asked Babette. ‘It will give you courage.’ ‘I have enough courage,’ said Rudy, ‘but if you come along, he must look kindly upon us, whether he wants to or not.’ ”
“So they went in. Rudy stepped hard on my tail! He’s so clumsy. I miaowed, but neither he nor Babette had ears for me. They opened the door, and both went in. I went first, but jumped up on the back of a chair. I had no way of knowing what direction Rudy would kick next. But the miller is the one who kicked out! And it was a good kick. Out of the door, and up into the mountains to the antelope! Now Rudy can aim at them and not at our little Babette!”
“But what was said?” asked the kitchen cat.
“Said! Everything was said that people say when they’re courting: ‘I love her, and she loves me. And if there’s enough milk in the pail for one, there’s enough for two!’ ‘But she’s too far above you,’ said the miller, ‘She’s sitting on grain, golden grain, as you know. You can’t reach her.’ ‘Nothing is so high that it can’t be reached if you really want it,’ Rudy said, because he’s quick on the draw. ‘But you said last time that you can’t reach the eaglet! And Babette sits higher than that!’ ‘I’ll take both of them,’ said Rudy. ‘I’ll give her to you when you bring me the eaglet alive,’ said the miller, and he laughed until he cried. ‘Thanks for the visit, Rudy. If you come back tomorrow, there’ll be no one home. Good bye, Rudy.’ And Babette said good bye too, as pitifully as a little kitten who can’t see its mother. ‘A man’s as good as his word,’ Rudy said. ‘Don’t cry, Babette, I’ll bring the eaglet.’ ‘I hope you’ll break your neck,’ said the miller, ‘then we’ll get out of seeing you here.’ I call that kicking! Now Rudy’s gone. Babette is crying, and the miller is singing in German. He learned that on his trip. I’m not going to cry over it. It doesn’t help.”
“But there are always appearances,” said the kitchen cat.
7. THE EAGLE’S NEST
On the mountain path the yodeling rang out merrily and loudly. It suggested good spirits and confident courage. It was Rudy on his way to see his friend, Vesinand.
“You have to help me! We’ll get Ragli to come along. I must get the eaglet up on the cliff edge.”
“Why don’t you get the dark of the moon first? That would be just as easy,” said Vesinand. “You’re in a good mood.”
“I’m thinking about getting married. But seriously now, I’ll tell you what I’ve gotten myself into.”
And soon Vesinand and Ragli knew what Rudy wanted.
“You’re a foolhardy fellow!” they said. “It’s impossible! You’ll break your neck!”
“You won’t fall if you don’t think you will,” said Rudy.
At midnight they started off with poles, ladders, and ropes. The path went through scrub and bushes, and over rocky slopes, always upwards, upwards in the dark night. The river was rushing down below. Water was trickling above them, and heavy rain clouds chased by in the air. The closer the hunters got to the steep mountain edge, the darker it became. The walls of the cliffs almost met, and only high up above through the narrow cleft did the sky lighten. Close by, under them, there was a deep abyss with the sound of roaring water. All three sat quietly waiting for dawn when the eagle would fly out. It had to be shot before the eaglet could attempt to be taken. Rudy squatted, as still as if he were a piece of the rock he sat on. He had his rifle in front of him, ready to shoot. His eyes never left the upper cleft where the eagle’s nest was hidden under the overhanging cliff. The three hunters waited for a long time.
Then high above they heard a terribly loud rushing sound and a huge, hovering object darkened the sky. Two gun barrels aimed as the black eagle flew out of the nest. A shot rang out. For a moment the widespread wings moved, and then the bird slowly fell. It was as if its size and wing span would fill the entire cleft and pull the hunters down with it in its fall. But the eagle sank into the depths. They heard the creaking of tree branches and bushes that cracked from the bird’s fall.
Then they got busy. Three of the longest ladders were tied together. They had to reach all the way up, but when they were placed on the outermost safe footing at the edge of the abyss, they didn’t reach far enough. The side of the cliff was as smooth as a wall a considerable way further up, where the nest was hidden in the shelter of the uppermost overhanging cliff crag. After some deliberation they agreed that the best thing to do was to lower two ladders tied together into the cleft from above, and then connect these to the three that were already set up from below. With great difficulty two ladders were dragged furthest up and ropes attached. The ladders were lowered over the projecting cliff and hung swaying freely over the abyss. Rudy was already sitting on the lowest rung. It was an ice-cold morning. Clouds of fog drifted upward from the black crevice. Rudy sat there like a fly sitting on a tottering straw lost by a nest-building bird on the edge of a factory chimney. But the fly can fly when the straw breaks loose, and Rudy could only break his neck. The wind rushed around him, and down in the abyss roared
