This was Ajola’s farewell speech, and Rudy threw his arms round the
dog’s neck and kissed his cold nose. Then he took the cat in his arms, but he
struggled to get free.
“You are getting too strong for me,” he said; “but I will not use my claws
against you. Clamber away over the mountains; it was I who taught you to
climb. Do not fancy you are going to fall, and you will be quite safe.” Then
the cat jumped down and ran away; he did not wish Rudy to see that there
were tears in his eyes.
The hens were hopping about the floor; one of them had no tail; a
traveller, who fancied himself a sportsman, had shot off her tail, he had
mistaken her for a bird of prey.
“Rudy is going away over the mountains,” said one of the hens.
“He is always in such a hurry,” said the other; “and I don’t like taking
leave,” so they both hopped out.
But the goats said farewell; they bleated and wanted to go with him, they
were so very sorry.
Just at this time two clever guides were going to cross the mountains to
the other side of the Gemmi, and Rudy was to go with them on foot. It was
a long walk for such a little boy, but he had plenty of strength and invincible
courage. The swallows flew with him a little way, singing, “We and you-
you and we.” The way led across the rushing Lutschine, which falls in
numerous streams from the dark clefts of the Grindelwald glaciers. Trunks
of fallen trees and blocks of stone form bridges over these streams. After
passing a forest of alders, they began to ascend, passing by some blocks of
ice that had loosened themselves from the side of the mountain and lay
across their path; they had to step over these ice-blocks or walk round them.
Rudy crept here and ran there, his eyes sparkling with joy, and he stepped
so firmly with his iron-tipped mountain shoe, that he left a mark behind him
wherever he placed his foot.
The earth was black where the mountain torrents or the melted ice had
poured upon it, but the bluish green, glassy ice sparkled and glittered. They
