Heidi | Page 6

and must have turned aside from following her
companions some time before, while these were too eagerly occupied
with their conversation to notice it. Dete stood still and looked around
her in all directions. The footpath wound a little here and there, but
could nevertheless be seen along its whole length nearly to Dorfli; no
one, however, was visible upon it at this moment.
"I see where she is," exclaimed Barbel, "look over there!" and she
pointed to a spot far away from the footpath. "She is climbing up the
slope yonder with the goatherd and his goats. I wonder why he is so
late to-day bringing them up. It happens well, however, for us, for he
can now see after the child, and you can the better tell me your tale."
"Oh, as to the looking after," remarked Dete, "the boy need not put
himself out about that; she is not by any means stupid for her five years,
and knows how to use her eyes. She notices all that is going on, as I

have often had occasion to remark, and this will stand her in good stead
some day, for the old man has nothing beyond his two goats and his
hut."
"Did he ever have more?" asked Barbel.
"He? I should think so indeed," replied Dete with animation; "he was
owner once of one of the largest farms in Domleschg. He was the elder
of two brothers; the younger was a quiet, orderly man, but nothing
would please the other but to play the grand gentleman and go driving
about the country and mixing with bad company, strangers that nobody
knew. He drank and gambled away the whole of his property, and when
this became known to his mother and father they died, one shortly after
the other, of sorrow. The younger brother, who was also reduced to
beggary, went off in his anger, no one knew whither, while Uncle
himself, having nothing now left to him but his bad name, also
disappeared. For some time his whereabouts were unknown, then some
one found out that he had gone to Naples as a soldier; after that nothing
more was heard of him for twelve or fifteen years. At the end of that
time he reappeared in Domleschg, bringing with him a young child,
whom he tried to place with some of his kinspeople. Every door,
however, was shut in his face, for no one wished to have any more to
do with him. Embittered by this treatment, he vowed never to set foot
in Domleschg again, and he then came to Dorfli, where he continued to
live with his little boy. His wife was probably a native of the Grisons,
whom he had met down there, and who died soon after their marriage.
He could not have been entirely without money, for he apprenticed his
son, Tobias, to a carpenter. He was a steady lad, and kindly received by
every one in Dorfli. The old man was, however, still looked upon with
suspicion, and it was even rumoured that he had been forced to make
his escape from Naples, or it might have gone badly with him, for that
he had killed a man, not in fair fight, you understand, but in some brawl.
We, however, did not refuse to acknowledge our relationship with him,
my great-grandmother on my mother's side having been sister to his
grandmother. So we called him Uncle, and as through my father we are
also related to nearly every family in Dorfli, he became known all over
the place as Uncle, and since he went to live on the mountain side he

has gone everywhere by the name of Alm-Uncle."
"And what happened to Tobias?" asked Barbel, who was listening with
deep interest.
"Wait a moment, I am coming to that, but I cannot tell you everything
at once," replied Dete. "Tobias was taught his trade in Mels, and when
he had served his apprenticeship he came back to Dorfli and married
my sister Adelaide. They had always been fond of one another, and
they got on very well together after they were married. But their
happiness did not last long. Her husband met with his death only two
years after their marriage, a beam falling upon him as he was working,
and killing him on the spot. They carried him home, and when
Adelaide saw the poor disfigured body of her husband she was so
overcome with horror and grief that she fell into a fever from which she
never recovered. She had always been rather delicate and subject to
curious attacks, during which no one knew whether she was awake or
sleeping. And so two months after Tobias had been carried to the grave,
his wife followed him. Their sad fate