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"We must hurry, or we shan't be back by nightfall!" said the Goat-mother nervously; and they landed on an ice-block, covered up the boat again in its hiding place, and set off towards home, across the Glacier.
CHAPTER VI.
The weary travellers almost sank with fatigue as they stumbled over the rough ice.
In addition to the handbag, they now had the cuckoo clock, and though Heinrich had insisted on carrying it strapped on his back like a knapsack, his mother could see that he became more and more exhausted, and at last she determined on taking it from him and carrying it herself.
The difficulty was heightened by the fact that the clock continued to tick, and the cuckoo to bound out of the door at unexpected moments, startling the Goat-mother so, that she almost dropped it.
"It's the shaking that puts its works out," said Heinrich. "Hold on tight, mother, and we shall get it home safely at last!"
"I wish it was at the bottom of the Glacier!" groaned the Goat-mother, staggering along; her bonnet nearly falling off, her shawl trailing on the snow behind her.
"Be careful, Pyto! Careless Goat!" she cried. "Test the snow-bridges carefully with your alpenstock before you venture on them!"
But Pyto, who was young and giddy, went gamboling on; until suddenly, without even time for a bleat of terror, he fell cras.h.i.+ng through the rotten ice, and disappeared from view into one of the largest creva.s.ses.
"Goats-i-tivy!" cried the Goat-mother. "He's gone! Oh, my darling child, where are you?"
The cuckoo clock was thrown aside, and she ran to the edge of the crack and peered down frantically.
"All right, mother," said a voice, sounding very faint and hollow, "I've stuck in a hole. Let me down something, and perhaps I can scramble out again."
"What have we got to let down?" said the Goat-mother. "Not a ball of string amongst us! Oh, if ever we go on a journey again, I'll never, _never_ listen to the Stein-bok."
"Well, mother, we must make the best of what we have," cried Heinrich.
"Take your shawl off and tear it into strips. We _may_ be able to make a rope long enough to reach him--anyhow we'll try!"
The Goat-mother consented eagerly, though her shawl was one she was particularly fond of. She s.n.a.t.c.hed it off, and taking out her scissors, she soon cut it into pieces, which Heinrich knotted one to the other, and lowered into the creva.s.se.
"Can you reach it?" he cried, putting his head as far over the edge as possible, and peering into the green depths.
The Goat-mother leant over, too; but in stooping her head her bonnet became loosened, and slid with a loud _swish_ down the ice, darting from side to side until it disappeared from sight in the darkness.
"Oh, what misfortunes! My child, my shawl, and my bonnet, _all_ gone together!" she cried, wringing her hands. "Take hold of the rope, my Pyto, and let us at all events rescue _you_!"
"All right, mother," cried the distant voice. "Don't drag me up till I call out '_Pull_.'"
In a few minutes the Goat-mother and Heinrich, listening intently, heard the welcome shout, and pulling both together they landed Pyto--very much bruised and shaken, but not otherwise hurt--upon the Glacier beside them.
"Oh, what a warning!" cried the Goat-mother, and after embracing Pyto warmly, she turned to look for the cuckoo clock. But it had tobogganed down a steep bank into an ice stream close by, and was floating away in the distance, _cuckooing_ at intervals as it danced up and down upon the water.
Two travellers who had just reached the opposite bank, paused in astonishment to listen.
"You see," said one, "this proves what I have always told you. Nothing is impossible to Nature. You may even hear cuckoos on a Glacier!"
CHAPTER VII.
The Goat-mother arrived at home in a pitiable state of cold and exhaustion, but she was much cheered by finding the house in good order, and a warm supper awaiting her, prepared by the hands of the careful Stein-bok.
Lizbet and Lenora immediately started off with the Royal Order; which was sealed with a large crown of red sealing wax fastening down a wisp of mauve hair.
The next morning all the Goats of the neighbourhood collected in a secret cavern, where they held a patriotic meeting, and discussed their plans for the rescue and protection of the Heif-father.
Six of the strongest and most daring spirits were to start that afternoon for the Inn on the other side of the Glacier, while the rest of the Free-will corps would take it in turns to remain in ambush in the Heif-goat's garden, in case the Chamois should attempt their raid before the day they had appointed.
They all agreed that the corps should be armed to the teeth, and there was such a demand for sandpaper that the store in the Stein-bok's pack was soon exhausted.
"A rusty sword is all the deadlier, when it once gets in," said the Goat-Lieutenant. "I shan't trouble myself about petty details."
The Heif-father rescue party started to cross the Glacier as soon as it became twilight--for they did not wish to attract attention.
The Lieutenant carried a blunderbuss, but the five privates were more lightly armed with a collection of rapiers, carving knives, daggers, spears, and sword-sticks.
Their uniforms were varied, but each wore a mauve badge on his hat, with the motto--"Goats and justice."
After half-an-hour's steady walking they reached the opposite mountain, and climbing the ladders that led to the Inn, they skirted the Chalet carefully, hiding behind the loose rocks and bushes until they were well in the shadow of the outbuildings.
"Where are you, Herr Heif?" bleated the Lieutenant in a low tone. "We are friends. You needn't be alarmed."
"In here," answered a cautious voice from one of the larger sheds.
"You can't get in, though--there's no hope of breaking the door open.
Iron staples and bars, and the strongest hinges. How many of you are there?"
"Six," replied the Lieutenant. "Free-will Goats, armed to the teeth!"
"You might look at the place and see if you can find a crack anywhere," whispered the Goat-father.
The Lieutenant and his followers walked slowly round the house, examining it at every point; but it was all built of strong tree trunks tanned brown by the suns.h.i.+ne. Suddenly his eye lighted upon a small window. It was very high up and quite out of reach of anyone within, but the Lieutenant thought that by standing on something he might be able to raise himself sufficiently to reach it, and cut away the gla.s.s.
"Is there anything inside that _you_ could stand upon?" he enquired.
There was silence, and a sound of scuffling; then the voice of the Heif-goat: "I've been examining things, and there are two barrels. I think I could put one on the top of the other. They _might_ reach to the window, but it has two great wooden bars, I couldn't break through."
"Leave that to us," said the Lieutenant, and he turned to his followers.
"Two of you get on each other's shoulders, and then _I_ will be a.s.sisted up. The other three mount in the same way by my side," he said quickly. "We who are at the top will cut through the window frame with our knives, collect the gla.s.s, and drag out the Goat-father in no time."
This plan was carried out, and in spite of the unsteady position of the topmost Goats, and the uncomfortable shaking of the lower ones, the wooden bars were at length sawn through, and the gla.s.s carefully gathered together by the Lieutenant in his felt hat.
"Steady!" cried the Lieutenant, "I'm coming down in a minute, and you're beginning to shake about so, I can hardly keep my balance. Hi!
Do you hear me? Steady, there!"
"I can't stand this a moment longer--my legs are giving way beneath me!" bleated the lower Goat. "I know I shall double up!"
As he spoke his feet slipped from under him, and he fell full length upon the hillside, carrying the others with him; and there they all lay in a confused heap, scarcely able to realize what had happened to them.