As the sun rose next morning Uncle Alp was outside as usual, quietly watching the mists disperse over the mountains and the light clouds grow pink as day broke. Soon the valley was flooded with gold and the whole countryside awoke to another glorious day. Then he went indoors and softly climbed the ladder. Clara had just opened her eyes and was gazing with astonishment at the sunbeams, dancing on her bed, not remembering at first where she was. Then she saw Heidi beside her, and heard Uncle Alp’s friendly voice ask, ‘Well, have you had a good sleep? Do you feel rested this morning?’
‘Oh yes,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t wake up once during the night.’
Uncle nodded in a satisfied way, and began to get her up in the same gentle, understanding way that he had arranged things for her overnight. Heidi woke up to find Clara already dressed and in his arms, ready to be carried down. She did not want to miss a single moment, so she leapt out of bed, threw on her clothes, and was down the ladder after them in a flash.
The evening before, Uncle Alp had thought of a way of putting the wheel‐chair under cover. It was too wide to go through the door of the hut, but he removed two boards from the entrance to the shed and pushed it in there, and then propped the boards back afterwards so that they could easily be moved when necessary. Heidi came down just as he brought it out of the shed, with Clara in it, and wheeled her into the sunshine. He left her in front of the hut and went off to see to the goats, while Heidi came to say good morning. It was the very first time in all her life that Clara had been out in the open country so early, and she sniffed the cool mountain air, so fragrant with the scent of the fir trees, and drew in deep, long breaths of it. She felt the warm sunshine on her face and hands. Though she had thought so much about it, she had never dreamed that life on the mountain would be like this.
‘I wish I could stay here for ever,’ she told Heidi.
‘You see now what I told you was true. Isn’t it heavenly up here with Grandfather?’ said Heidi.
At that moment Grandfather came out with two mugs full of foaming milk, one for each of them. ‘This will do the little one good,’ he said in his gentle way to Clara. ‘It’s from Daisy. It will help to make you strong, so drink it up. Good health to you!’
Clara had never tasted goat’s milk, and she sniffed at it uncertainly, but when she saw how quickly Heidi was emptying her mug, she began to drink too, and thought the milk tasted as sweet and spicy as if it had sugar and cinnamon in it.
‘Tomorrow we shall drink two mugfuls,’ said Uncle Alp, pleased to see how she had followed Heidi’s good example.
Peter appeared then with the goats, and the animals rushed up to Heidi as usual, bleating so loudly that Uncle Alp, who had something to say to Peter, had to take him aside to make him hear.
‘Now attend to me. From now on let Daisy go where she likes. I want her to give extra good milk, and she will know where to find the best grass. If she wants to go higher up than usual, you go too, and the other goats as well. She’s wiser than you in such matters, and it won’t hurt you to scramble about a bit. Now why are you staring over there, as if you wanted to eat somebody? They won’t interfere with you. Now be off and remember what I’ve told you.’
Peter was accustomed to do what Uncle Alp told him promptly and he went on his way at once, but not without turning and rolling his eyes at the girls, as though he had something on his mind. The goats swept Heidi along with them a little way and this was just what Peter wanted.
‘You’d better come too, because I’ve got to be after Daisy all the time,’ he shouted to her.
‘I can’t,’ she called back. ‘I shan’t be able to as long as Clara is here. But Grandfather’s promised we shall all come up together one day.’ By this time she had managed to extricate herself from the goats, and ran back to Clara. Peter shook both fists in the direction of the wheel‐chair, then turned and ran till he was out of sight, afraid Uncle Alp might have seen him, and he preferred not to hear what the old man might have to say about such behaviour.
Clara and Heidi had so many plans that they did not know where to begin, but Heidi thought they should first write to Grandmamma as they had promised to do every day. Grandmamma had been first a little worried as to whether Clara would really be comfortable at the hut for any length of time, and how she would stand the life, and she needed to have regular news of her. If she had a daily letter telling of Clara’s doings, she would be content to stay quietly at Ragaz, knowing she could get up to the hut quite quickly if she was needed.
‘Must we go indoors to write?’ asked Clara, quite ready to fall in with Heidi’s ideas, but not wanting to be moved. Heidi ran and fetched some of her school books and a three‐legged stool. She put the books on Clara’s knee for her to write on, and used the bench herself, sitting in front of it on the little stool. They both began to write letters, but Clara’s eyes kept straying. It was all so wonderful. The wind had dropped, and only a gentle breeze fanned her cheeks and whispered through the trees. Thousands of tiny insects were dancing in the clear air, but everything else was very still. Only an occasional shout from some goatherd came echoing down the rocky crags.
The morning passed in a flash, and Uncle Alp appeared with two steaming bowls, saying that Clara should stay out of doors as long as it was light. So they had another pleasant meal in the open air. Afterwards Heidi wheeled Clara under the shade of the fir trees, where they spent the afternoon telling each other everything that had happened since Heidi left Frankfurt. Though nothing very remarkable had occurred, there was still plenty for Clara to tell about the household which Heidi had come to know so well. So they chattered away gaily, and in the branches over their heads the birds twittered and sang, as though they were enjoying the conversation too and wanted to join in.
Time passed very quickly, the light changed, and Peter, still scowling, was back with the goats. ‘Good night, Peter,’ called Heidi, seeing that he did not mean to stop, and Clara too called a friendly goodnight, but he made no reply, only drove the goats straight on.
Clara saw Uncle Alp taking Daisy to her stall, and found herself actually looking forward to the milk she knew he would presently bring her. ‘Isn’t it queer,’ she said to Heidi. ‘As long as I can remember I’ve only eaten because I had to. Everything always tasted so of cod‐liver oil, and I used to wish I didn’t have to eat at all. And here, I can hardly wait for your grandfather to bring my milk.’
‘I know what you mean,’ replied Heidi, remembering very well the days in Frankfurt when the good food seemed to stick in her throat.
Clara was surprised at herself. But she had never in her life spent a whole day out of doors anywhere, and did not know what strength was in this high mountain air. So when Uncle Alp brought over the milk, she took hers and drank it up before Heidi finished, and asked for more. Delighted, he took the mugs indoors and when he returned, each was covered with a slice of bread, thickly spread with butter — and that was a special treat. During the afternoon he had been to another hut a little way over the mountain, where they made delicious butter, and had brought back a fine big ball of it. As he stood and watched them, he was pleased to see how the children enjoyed it.
Clara meant to keep awake again that night, to watch the stars, but simply couldn’t keep her eyes open and fell at once into the soundest sleep she had ever known.
The next day or two passed as happily, then came a great surprise for the children. Two strong carriers arrived, each with a bed and bedding in a basket on his back. There was also a letter from Mrs Sesemann to say that the beds were for Clara and Heidi. From now on, instead of her couch of hay, Heidi was to have a proper bed, and when she went down to Dörfli in the winter, one was to be taken there, while the other remained at the hut, so that Clara would know there was always a bed for her whenever she could go to see Heidi. She thanked them for their daily letters, which she hoped would continue, so that she would know all that was going on as though she were there with them.
Uncle Alp went up to the loft and threw the hay back where it belonged, and folded the rugs away. Then he helped the two men to carry up the beds, and he put them close together so that the children could still look out of the window from their pillows.
Clara’s letters to her grandmother showed that she was enjoying life at the hut more and more every day. Uncle Alp was so kind and thoughtful, Heidi so gay and amusing — far more so than she had seemed in Frankfurt. So every morning Clara’s first thought was, ‘Oh, how lovely! I’m still here at Heidi’s!’ Mrs Sesemann was quite reassured by these promising accounts of her granddaughter, and felt there was no real need for her to make the journey up to the hut again at present, and she was not sorry for that as the steep slopes had made it rather tiring for her.
Uncle Alp grew very attached to his little guest and tried to find something new every day to make her better. He took to going off in the afternoons high up on the mountain top to look for special plants and herbs, and he hung bunches of them in the goat‐stall, where they scented the air with their fragrance. When Peter’s goats came down in the evening, they sniffed and wrinkled their noses, and tried to get into the stall, but the door was firmly shut against them. Uncle Alp had not gone scrambling about up there just to give the herd a treat. His herbs were only for Daisy, to improve her milk still more. It was easy to see that this diet agreed with her. She became very lively and tossed her head, and her eyes were very bright.
When Clara had been there a fortnight. Uncle Alp began trying to get her on her feet each morning, before putting her in her chair. ‘Won’t the little one try to stand for a minute?’ he asked gently, and to please him, she did try, but gave up very quickly because it hurt her, and she clung to him for support. But each day he persuaded her to try for a little longer.
There had not been such a beautiful summer as that on the mountain for many years. Day after day the sun shone from a cloudless sky, and the flowers had never been so gay nor so sweet before. And when evening came, snow‐fields and rocky peaks were a blaze of colour, purple, pink, and gold, but the full glory was only to be seen higher up than Uncle’s hut. Heidi told Clara all about it, and how specially lovely everything was up on the high pasture which she loved so much. One evening, as she was talking about it, she suddenly longed to see it so passionately that she ran to her grandfather, who was busy at his bench in the shed, and cried, ‘Oh Grandfather, will you take us up to the pasture tomorrow? It’ll be so lovely there now.’
‘Very well,’ he agreed, ‘if the little one will first do something for me, and try her best to stand alone this evening.’ Heidi ran back, delighted, to tell Clara the news, and Clara promised to try hard for Uncle Alp, as she too was excited at the thought of such an expedition.
Heidi was so thrilled that she called out as soon as she caught sight of Peter, ‘We’re coming up with you tomorrow, to spend the whole day on the pasture.’
In reply Peter only growled like a bear that has been teased, and hit out with his stick at Finch, who was trotting peaceably beside him. But Finch avoided it by leaping right over Snowflake’s back, and the stick fell on empty air.
Clara and Heidi went to bed so full of the plans for next day that they agreed to stay awake all night talking about them. However their heads had hardly touched the pillows, when all their chatter ceased. Clara dreamed of a great stretch of turf, covered with harebells, and Heidi of the hawk croaking away on the heights, as if he were calling, ‘Come, come, come!’