Soap-Bubble Stories Part 17

But on these occasions the Goat-mother always reproved them.

"Remember," she would say severely, "that because people are ridiculous you shouldn't be unmannerly. They can't help their appearance, poor things! They may think themselves quite as good as we are."

"Well, at all events, we don't look like _that_," said Lizbet. "I am sure you would never allow it."

The princ.i.p.al news from the outer world was brought to the Heif family by a Stein-bok pedlar, who wandered about the country with his wares, and was so popular that he was a friend of all cla.s.ses, and supplied even the Chamois with their groceries and tobacco.

He generally arrived at the Chalet on the first of every month, and spread out his wares on the gra.s.s plot in front of the cave, while the Goat-mother and her children walked up and down, and bargained good-humouredly for anything they had taken a fancy to.

CHAPTER II.

It was a bright sunny day, and the Goat-mother sat with her daughters at the door of the cavern. The Goat-father had gone off by himself to get some provisions at a village on the opposite side of the Glacier, and Heinrich and Pyto were digging in the fields at the back of the Chalet; when the Stein-bok, in his well-known brown cloth coat, appeared panting up the narrow pathway.

Throwing himself down on a stone bench, he tossed his Tyrolese hat on to the ground, and fanned himself with his handkerchief.

"Good morning, Herr Stein-bok. You seem exhausted," said the Goat-mother.

"I am, ma'am, and well I may be. Five miles with twenty pounds on my back is no joke, I can a.s.sure you."

"Shall I bring you a gla.s.s of lager-beer?" enquired the Heif-mother.

"It would be acceptable, ma'am, and then I will tell you my news.

You've heard nothing of the Goat-father, have you?"

"Nothing," said the Goat-mother. "I am beginning to feel very nervous.

I never knew him to stay away two days before."

The Stein-bok looked round darkly.

"I have something to tell you," he whispered. "Prepare for bad news.

The Goat-father has been captured."

The Heif-mother gave a wild shriek, and fell back upon Lizbet, who was peeling potatoes in the doorway.

"When--where--how--who--what?" she cried frantically. "Tell me at once, or I shall faint away."

"Be calm, ma'am," said the Stein-bok soothingly. "I heard it from the Chamois, who have a habit of bounding about everywhere, as you know.

Your dear husband reached the middle of the Glacier in safety, when--being hampered by a satchel and a green cotton umbrella--he fell in attempting to jump an ice-pinnacle, and sprained his foot so severely that he was unable to move. Though he bleated loudly for help, no one came except some huntsmen who were in search of Chamois.

They picked him up, and dragged him to the Inn on the other side of the valley, where he was locked up securely in a shed, and there he is at the present moment."

"My brave Heif in prison! He will never, never survive it!" cried the Goat-mother, shedding tears in profusion.

"Oh yes he will, ma'am," replied the Stein-bok, "they're not going to kill him, their idea is to take him down to the village."

"_That_ they shall never do!" cried the Heif-mother, starting up, "not if I go myself to rescue him! Go, Lizbet, and call your brothers. We must consult together immediately."

Lizbet darted off, and the Stein-bok continued.

"I have still something else I must let you know, ma'am. As our great poet observes--

'Whenever green food fades away, Some dire misfortune comes the self-same day.'

In plain words, troubles never come singly. I discovered while having a friendly game of dominoes with the Head Chamois, that they intend to seize upon your house next Tuesday, in the absence of the Heif-father."

"And to-day is Friday!" shrieked the Goat-mother. "Oh! this is hard indeed!"

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Compose yourself, ma'am, and listen to my advice," said the Pedlar.

"You lock up your house, or leave me in charge with Lizbet and Lenora, and you and the two other children start off at once to ask the help of the Goat-king. He is a mild, humane creature, and will very likely order out a detachment of the 'Free-will' goats to help to defend your household."

"That is the only thing to do," said the Goat-mother mournfully. "I certainly know the way, for of course I have always been to the yearly Goat a.s.sembly, but I always started three days before the meeting, and went down the back of the mountain, over the slopes. I don't know how I'm to manage the short cut."

"Oh, easy enough, ma'am," replied the Stein-bok; "you'll get on very well. Don't go in goloshes, though, for they will be sure to catch on the nails. I wouldn't wear my waterproof mantle either--too large for a walking tour. Put on a shawl, and tie it round you."

By this time Heinrich and Pyto had hastily dressed themselves in out-door costume, and the Goat-mother was rus.h.i.+ng about her house, collecting an extraordinary number of things, which the Stein-bok had some difficulty in persuading her not to take with her.

"_Not_ sugar nippers, ma'am, I _beg_; or your large work-box, or the mincing machine! Quite useless on a long journey; and your best cap you won't want, I a.s.sure you."

"I thought I might perhaps wait a moment in the ante-room and put it on before entering the presence of Royalty," bleated the Goat-mother.

"But no doubt you know best."

The luggage was at last reduced to a small leather handbag; and the Goat-mother, after solemnly bestowing her blessing on Lizbet and Lenora, and the door-key on the Stein-bok, set off down the garden path with her children, upon their adventures.

CHAPTER III.

Meanwhile, the Goat-father was languis.h.i.+ng in a dark shed attached to the Inn on the other side of the Glacier. His bleats had failed to attract any attention. In fact the only person who had heard him at all, had been an old Goat-slave, who while browsing on the hillside with a bell round his neck, had been attracted by the cries, and creeping up to the shed, peeped through a crack to see what could be the matter.

"Is there anyone near?" enquired the Goat-father in a whisper.

"No. There's a party in the Inn, but they are too busy eating to take any notice of us. I am just loitering here, in case there should be any pieces of sandwich paper flying about."

"Is there any chance of my making my escape?" enquired the Heif-father. "Are they very watchful people?"

"Excessively so," replied the old Slave. "I've never been able to get away for the last ten years."

The Goat-father groaned. "Then it wouldn't be possible for you to take a message to my family?"

"Quite impossible, my dear friend, I a.s.sure you. Can't you find any crack in the shed where you could break through?"

"There's _nothing_," cried the Goat-father. "I've searched round and round, and the door is as strong and tight as a prison."

"Well, I'll go off and see if I can find a messenger," said the old Slave good-naturedly. "Perhaps the old fox would manage it."

"A fox! Oh, I don't think _that_ would do," said the Heif-father. "It mightn't be safe for my family."

"Oh, _he's_ all right," said the Slave. "He's been in captivity so long, it's taken all the spirit out of him. He might live in a farmyard. He's a good-natured creature, too, and I daresay he'll go to oblige me."