DURING the first half of the journey Vinzi had not spoken. The thought that he was to spend a long time in the midst of strangers far from his home lay heavily upon him. He hardly realized what went on about him. In Berisal his companion took him to the inn belonging to his father’s friend. When the latter had questioned the boy sufficiently about the trip, he found it wise for Vinzi to have supper and immediately go to bed, as he was sure to be tired from the long waken till his fellow-traveller firmly shook him the next morning. As the sun was already high, it was necessary to hurry; but that did not trouble Vinzi, for he was used to that at home. On the days when they had gone to the pasture Stefeli was nearly always dressed when he got up, and he had had to be quick to get ready in time. Oh, if only Stefeli were there now to call him, and if only his mother would come in to say a few friendly words! Vinzi had to fight hard to keep back the tears. He was dressed in a short time and sat down to his cup of coffee in the room where his companion awaited him. The two companions went silently up the mountain. Poor Vinzi felt stranger and stranger as he neared his destination.

“Look, boy,” said the young workman, who had been whistling all the time, “do you see that stone house?”

Vinzi saw it and in his terror he could not utter a syllable. He thought that the gloomy gray house on the stony slope was his cousin’s place.

“Yes, I see it,” he finally said in a very low voice.

“We’ll stop there to get something to eat,” said the young man. “After that comes the last stretch we have to climb. From then on it goes down hill and you’ll soon be there. I have to go all the way down to the next valley, so we won’t have much time to rest.”

Vinzi was perfectly indifferent. He felt little enough inclination to eat and was constantly picturing to himself his arrival at the house of his unknown cousins. Maybe it looked as gloomy as the gray house of stone. His inner agitation constantly increased while they had a short lunch and afterwards when they silently took to the road again. They stood on the summit now and the path began to slope down hill.

“What is that?” asked Vinzi glancing timidly at a large building which lay at the left of the road. Despite the fact that it seemed to shelter many people, everything about it lay in soundless peace and not a human being could be seen.

“That’s nothing bad, you don’t need to be frightened,” said the young fellow. “On the contrary, it is a nice place. Good monks live there, who take in people that travel by in winter, half frozen. They have a warm fire for you and a drop of something warm to strengthen you.”

“What is that over there?” asked Vinzi again after a little while, when an old solitary tower showed itself to the right of the road.

“Do you think you have to live there? Don’t make such eyes!” said the young man. “I shouldn’t like to live there myself. It is as quiet here as if it were at the end of the world. But they do grow old here. Ten years ago I saw a man sitting there with his hair and beard as white as the snow on that peak. A year ago I saw him, too, and sure enough, there he is again. Quick now, boy, you don’t have far to go.”

But the end was not reached before half an hour’s vigorous tramp was behind them. Pointing down hill the workman said, “Look at that white building down there! That’s a little chapel. A few houses are about it and they call the hamlet ‘Bychapel.’ The village is a bit further down, but your uncle lives near the chapel. I’ll show you the house and then I’ll leave you. You can’t possibly miss your way.”

Vinzi stared breathlessly ahead of him, and without once looking back, rushed forward. They had reached the chapel, which was a little way from the road on a hillock. The young man stopped.

“Well, here we are!” he said. “Pass the chapel to your right and go to the very last house which has a barn beside it. Lorenz Lesa lives there. Good-bye now and good luck!”

“Good-bye, thank you!” said Vinzi, as he sadly shook hands.

The young man turned about and went whistling on his way and Vinzi looked after him. The last person who was connected with his home had vanished and nothing but the unknown lay before him. But alas! it had to be. He did as he was told and found the house on the grassy slope.

A small, stone building behind it was evidently the stable. At the other side was a brown construction covered with stones and shingles, evidently the barn, where the supply of hay was kept. As the small door of the barn was wide open and everything about the house was still and the house door shut, Vinzi went towards it. He knew well enough that one couldn’t get into the door from the ground except by clambering up the boards, for the hut was raised off the ground by four posts to keep the hay dry and airy. Vinzi climbed in through the extremely low door, where a grown up person was obliged to stoop. A tall, strongly-built man was straightening up the hay.

“Good evening!” Vinzi called out. “Does this barn belong to Lorenz Lesa?”

“It does, what do you want with him?” the man called back.

“He is our cousin. I belong to Vinzenz Lesa in Leuk and father sends you his good greetings. He said you knew about my coming here,” Vinzi went on confidentially, for he hoped that this man who had already won his trust might be his uncle.

Sticking his fork into the hay, the man came nearer in order to hear better.

He looked the boy straight in the eye, offered him his hand, and said pleasantly, “Oh, I see! Are you really Vinzi? I am glad you have come to your relatives. Did you come up here all alone?”

Vinzi’s heart had opened at the glance of the friendly eyes and the kindly sound of his voice. He bravely raised his eyes from the floor at which he had been staring till now, and told about his travels. He was so glad, he said, to have found his uncle so soon, for he had been quite frightened at the thought of coming among strangers.

“There is nothing to be afraid of,” said the uncle good-humoredly. “My boys are not exactly tame, but you can manage with them. You must be hungry and thirsty now,” he went on, “and we had better go over to your aunt, who’ll look after you.”

Vinzi was on the ground with a jump and his uncle followed. Just at that moment a woman of rather generous proportions opened the door and calmly looked about her.“I have to let the smoke out a bit,” she remarked to her husband. Then observing the boy at her husband’s side, she calmly looked him over.

“I am bringing you our nephew from Leuk,” said the man, “but he is still a bit afraid of us. Please look out that he doesn’t feel worse.” At this last remark the man slightly chuckled.

“I frighten no children,” answered the woman deliberately, giving Vinzi her hand. “Welcome to our house, nephew.” Then she began to inspect him so thoroughly from top to toe that her husband finally said, “I should think it better if you examined the rest of him inside. Can’t you see that the boy still has the pack on his back? I am sure he wouldn’t take it amiss to have something to eat after the long tramp he has had.”

“He can have something right away,” said the woman. “Supper is nearly ready, but the smoke drove me from the stove. I’ll put the food on the table and we can begin to eat. We don’t need to wait for the boys; they are sure to turn up sooner or later.”

Turning towards the house, she freed Vinzi of his pack. Not very long afterwards he sat comfortably at the table with his aunt and uncle and as soon as all fear of the strange relatives had left him he was suddenly conscious of the most tremendous appetite. Despite the long trip he had barely eaten. The cousin seemed somehow to have guessed this, for long before the boy’s plate was empty he heaped it full again with steaming potatoes and lovely yellow cheese. This combination tasted so delicious together that Vinzi thought he had never eaten anything better in his life.

Once in a while his aunt would say, “Give him more milk. You mustn’t forget how parched he must be from the wind and dust of his long trip.”

Vinzi needed no urging to drink one cup of fresh milk after another. All of a sudden shrill voices and calls could be heard outside, followed by the loud flicking of whips and happy cries. Vinzi looked out of the window, amazed, but saw nothing.

“There are the boys! They have come home with the cows. I must quickly run out to help them, for they can’t attend to the cattle alone. I suppose you’ve never done so either? Would you like to come out and see our cows and the stable?”

“Oh, leave him alone now!” said the aunt. “Why should he rush about after all the walking he’s done? He can start the day with the boys tomorrow, if he wants to.”

“I only asked, because boys usually like to be where something lively is going on,” replied Lorenz Lesa, “but he shall be free to say what he prefers.”

“I’d like to stay here,” replied Vinzi.

“All right, then,” said the uncle, as he went outside.

The aunt showed herself pleased that Vinzi was willing to remain quiet and did not immediately want to run away. First of all he was to have another cup of milk to lay the last bit of dust from the journey. Then folding her arms and settling comfortably into her chair she said: “Now tell me about your people at home and the kind of life you lead there. I like to hear about such things.”

Vinzi was pleased at this opportunity to talk about his home. He had been wondering all the time what his mother was doing just then, whether Stefeli was alone on the pasture, and how everything was getting along without him. He told his aunt about their household, especially how his mother and Stefeli usually spent the day.A loud tramping neared the door now and the next instant it was flung open. A boy of Vinzi’s age came running in, followed by a little chap and one much larger, who apparently resented being the last. Quickly giving a high jump, he tried to leap over the little one’s head by propping himself on his shoulders. But quick as a wink the sly little one ducked down and the big boy fell headlong with a thump.

“You must not enter in such an unmannerly fashion, Faz,” said the mother calmly.

“Good evening, cousin,” said the eldest, holding his hand out to Vinzi.

“Good evening, cousin,” cried the second boy, too, and “Good evening cousin,” also called the youngest, pushing his way very near to Vinzi.

Vinzi heartily shook the proffered hands and answered their salutations. Meanwhile the father had come in.

“You must know each other’s names, boys,” he said, stepping towards the group. “Your cousin’s is Vinzi, which is short for Vinzenz. My three are called Joseph, Bonifaz and Maurus. But these are their calendar names, and we call them Jos, Faz and Russli. I think you had better sit down now, for the potatoes have cooled off enough to eat.”

“Oh, I am glad,” said the mother with satisfaction, “then they won’t burn their throats today. Usually they do when they are in such a hurry.”

All three settled down to the important business of eating. They said nothing, but their glances resting on Vinzi showed that he occupied their thoughts completely.

Now that the tumult had subsided and one could speak and hear without exertion, the mother said, “As our relatives did not let us know beforehand that Vinzi was coming, we did not get ready for him. But I have an idea. If he is to sleep in the house we shall have to clear out the store-room where wheat, corn and all kinds of things are kept. The mice up there squeak and scratch so much that they might frighten him. Wouldn’t it be much better if we fixed him a bed in the hay-rick? He would really be much more comfortable there.”

“He’ll have to say himself where he’d rather sleep,” put in the uncle. “If he prefers the store-room, we’ll all of us go up and clear everything away. Vinzi, where would you rather sleep?”“I’d love to sleep in the hay-rick,” replied Vinzi.

“I thought so,” said his aunt, quite relieved that the matter was so quickly settled. “And you must have a little table, a bench and a chest of drawers to make you comfortable,” she added. “As soon as you are all done with supper you can take some things over for him.”

She went out first in search of what was needed, and soon after the three boys had finished their meal and hastened after her. When Vinzi rose in order to make himself useful, too, the uncle assured him that the heavy pack he had carried on his back was enough work for that day. Hanging it on his arm, the man beckoned to Vinzi to follow him. They had scarcely reached the hay-rick, when the three boys came running along. Jos carried a little cupboard, Faz had a small table with a large blanket on top, and Russli brought a little bench. The mother with the pillow and sheets followed behind. With an agility clearly showing how used she was to climbing into the barn, the aunt had gone in. One thing after another was lifted up by Lorenz Lesa, and she pulled them in through the door.

When the last one was inside, the uncle said, “We’ll say good-night to you now. On the inside of the door is a wooden bolt that you can fasten. Once inside, you are the sole master of your castle and no person can come whom you wish to keep out.”

Now the aunt came down again.

“Everything is ready for you,” she said. “And look, nephew, over there is the stream, where you can wash yourself. No one will disturb you there. I laid a towel for you on the bench. Good-night.”

The cousins all wished him good-night, too, but Jos turned round once more.

“Are you coming up to the pasture with us tomorrow morning, Vinzi? Do you expect to stay with us all day while we mind the cows?”

“Yes, certainly,” replied Vinzi. “I’ll help you all I can, but you must tell me which I have to mind most. Please call me in the morning, so that I shan’t be late.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll call to you loudly through the round air-hole,” Jos promised. “You’ll be able to hear me well enough.” With that he ran away.

Vinzi was left alone. Climbing up through the door, he inspected his barn. In a corner on a high, soft pile of hay his bed was spread. Beside it the hay had been pushed away to give room for the table and the bench, and at the wall stood his little cupboard. It all looked like a cosy and inviting little room. But he was not able to sleep because the unusual happenings of the day had excited him so much. Sitting down on the board which formed his threshold, he looked outside. The stars were glowing above him in the heavens and just then the moon rose from behind the mountains. It was beginning to light up the dark trees and meadows and the little church looked very white, and the high snow-peak rising above the rocky ranges became more and more brilliant every minute. Vinzi opened his eyes very wide, for in his great terror of what lay before him he had seen practically nothing after the gloomy house on the mountain desert. He had made up his mind that only frightful things would happen to him. How different was the scene now before him from what he had anticipated!

There was no stony desert here. On the contrary, the moonlight gleamed peacefully down to the green slope and sparkled on the tops of the larch trees over the way. In the peaceful silence he could hear the continuous soft gurgling of the near-by stream. Vinzi listened to the sound while the tones grew fuller and louder till lovely melodies could be distinguished. He must have been sitting there for a considerable time when a strong gust of wind suddenly pushed the door to against his knee and woke him from his dreaming. He had never in his life seen the stars above him sparkle as they did that night. His mother’s words that the good God in Heaven was above him everywhere and could hear and watch him now suddenly occurred to him. Many times he had heard her say these words, but at that moment his heart fully realized them. It gave him a sense that Heaven was very near him and filled his soul with gratitude to God who had let him find happiness where he had anticipated evil. How groundless had been his fear of his uncle and aunt! They had received and treated him so kindly that he already felt at home. In his joy he would have loved to fill the night with a loud song of praise, but it was too late for that. Not a single light could be seen about him; everyone in all the cottages, far and near, was apparently fast asleep.

After shutting and bolting the door, he sought his fragrant bed, which was soft and splendid, for no hay could prick him through the heavy sheets. Opposite his bed an especially bright star kept gleaming in through the round hole in the wall. He tried to shut his eyes, but it shone so brightly that he could not help gazing at it. Even when his lids seemed to be closing he opened them again to see it. Yes, the star was still shining. What was more, Vinzi could distinguish some faint, beautiful music, which finally put him to sleep. The star was singing to Vinzi so that he could hear it even in his dreams.

Next morning Vinzi was awakened by a dreadful noise, caused by his name being screamed by many voices at once. Stefeli had never called as loudly as that to waken him, thought Vinzi, still half asleep. But all of a sudden he realized where he was and whose loud voices had apparently been shouting for a long time in vain. Rapidly putting on the most necessary clothing, he opened his door wide and leaped down among his noisy cousins.

“Hurry up, come along!” they called all at once and Jos added, “Take your jacket along. As soon as we’ve had breakfast, we are off.”

As Vinzi was not even washed yet, he begged them not to wait for him as he would rather follow them later.The two older ones quickly ran off, but Russli going with Vinzi to the stream, said confidentially, “You don’t need to wash yourself. You don’t look dirty: come with us, Vinzi, you are clean enough.”

“No, no, Russli,” Vinzi answered. “One must wash every morning and besides it makes one feel better. Oh, what nice, clear water.” So saying Vinzi kneeled down and taking up handfuls he poured the fresh water over his face again and again, and also drank one handful after another.

This made a deep impression on Russli, for Vinzi looked refreshed and radiant. Meditating deeply the little boy said, “I’ll come and wash myself here with you and I’ll drink afterwards like you, too. I’ll do it every day from now on.”

Having finished his toilet, Vinzi fetched his jacket and went over to the house with Russli.

Both uncle and aunt, who were still at breakfast, greeted Vinzi kindly. The aunt set a large cup of coffee before him and entreated the boy to help himself to lots of bread, as the strong mountain air would soon give him a fresh appetite.

“We ought to have let you sleep longer after your trip,” said the uncle, “but the boys were just wild for you to go with them. They are so pleased to have a cousin who belongs to them now.”

“Just take your time,” urged the aunt when she saw that Vinzi was hurrying in order to finish his breakfast. “Your uncle will go out with you when you are done, and he has not finished either.”

When the uncle rose soon after, Vinzi followed him.

Jos and Faz had been flicking their whips for quite a while to show that they were ready. The father unfastened one cow after another from her stall and the whole procession began to move. Quite a stretch of road beyond the chapel had to be passed before the pasture-ground for the day could be reached. Russli had immediately come to Vinzi’s side and was firmly grasping his hand. He tried to hold Vinzi back as much as possible, while Faz and Jos were busy driving the cows along. This was difficult, because the luscious grass along the sides constantly tempted them to stray from the road.

“Leave me alone, Russli,” Vinzi said hurrying forward. “You see I must help your brothers to keep the cows in order.”

During a struggle Faz had with a cow who was trying to clean off a tender bush by the roadside he heard these words.

“Keep Russli out of mischief for us,” he called back to Vinzi. “You can’t possibly help us better than that. The little chap always tickles the cows with his rod and that makes them run from side to side. If they do that we can barely manage them. Russli is a mischievous little fellow, you’d better hold him tight.”

Faz at last got control of his obstinate cow and, driving her along, followed the others.

“Vinzi,” asked Russli, overjoyed at being able to have his new cousin’s company, “have you a knife?”

“Yes, of course, everybody needs one,” Vinzi replied.

“Come on and I’ll show you a fine bush,” said Russli, “where the branches are thick below and very thin above; you know they are very strong, too. Won’t you cut me a few good willow sticks. Mine is broken and I can’t do it myself because I am not allowed to have a knife.”

“Why do you want the stick?” asked Vinzi. “I hope you don’t want it for beating the cows. You heard what Faz just told me about you.”

“Oh, I don’t beat them, but I like to tickle them a bit,” explained Russli. “That makes them jump and they get lively.”

“No, no, Russli, they don’t think it fun,” said Vinzi. “They jump from fright, because such thin whips hurt them very much. I won’t make you any sticks for that. But show me the bush, and if the wood is good I’ll cut you something else.”

Of course Russli was terribly curious to know what Vinzi meant to make him. But Vinzi declared he would not tell till he had seen the bush and asked Jos a question. Expectantly Russli ran ahead. Soon they turned off from the road to a grove, where they found a large bush whose branches stood up perfectly straight.

“Here,” said Russli, pulling Vinzi along.

Vinzi, gazing with satisfaction at the firm branches, began to cut those which pleased him most.

“Come now,” he said after having gathered a considerable bunch, “we must go to your brothers. Do you know where they are? I can’t see them any more. I’ll cut it for you when I get there.”

Russli hastened on followed by Vinzi.“Oh, how lovely it is here,” Vinzi exclaimed and stood still. “But where is the pasture?”

“Here,” said Russli.

Vinzi looked about him. Here and there isolated high, dark larches let in the deep-blue sky through their delicate branches. On the lovely green slope little patches of fiery red alpine-roses glowed between moss-covered stones. The full mountain stream was rushing down hill throwing up snow-white foam whenever rocks tried to bar its course. Vinzi could see the cows quietly grazing a short distance away. He stood without moving. Never in his life had he seen such a pasture. The slanting sun fell through the trees on the glowing flowers and sparkled on the waving grass. The soft mountain air, gently fanning the trees, played with the shadows and soughed through their branches with a delicate song.

The soughing seemed first to grow, then to die away in the far distance. Vinzi had not moved from the spot, gazing and listening intently.

“When will you cut me what you promised?” asked Russli quite angrily, for his patience had given out with waiting.

“All right, I’ll come,” said Vinzi, as if awakening from a dream. “I’ll come. But it is wonderful here! Hold these sticks a minute, Russli. I’ll come right back and make you what I said I would.”

Vinzi ran over to the grazing place and looked about for his cousins. Across the road was a very large pasture without trees and with many cattle. Vinzi could see a small group of goat-herds bending over a smoking spot on the ground. They were apparently trying to make a fire, but as it would not burn, were shouting all at once and causing much confusion. Vinzi saw Jos and Faz among them. First he called to Jos a considerable time in vain, but when Jos finally heard him, he came over.

“Come to us, Vinzi!” he called out, running. “We are making a fire, or I should rather call it smoke. One of the boys found a hole, and we think some kind of animal, maybe a marmot, is inside. It’ll come out if the smoke gets into the hole. Then we can catch it. Come, we’ll have such fun.”

“No, I’d rather not,” said Vinzi, for he had not the slightest desire to see a little frightened beast jump out of the hole, and much less to see all the boys chase it and frighten it more. “I promised Russli to come back. But I must ask you something. Do you think your father would mind if I cut Russli a pipe?”

“Why should he mind? What do you mean? I couldn’t even guess why not?” Jos exclaimed. “I am sure he couldn’t possibly object, and we are only too glad if you keep Russli busy. He makes the cows simply wild and that keeps us chasing them. The minute they see him even they begin to run.”

“Shouldn’t I help you mind the cows?” asked Vinzi, slightly concerned. “Can I really sit down quietly and cut out pipes?”

“You can’t help us any better way than that,” said Jos. “Please believe me. Look how peacefully they are grazing. If Russli were teasing them, they would long ago have begun to run around.”

Vinzi was delighted at being told his share of the day’s work and he went back to Russli.

“Now, Russli,” said Vinzi on reaching the little boy, “watch what I shall make.”

As he settled down on a moss covered rock, the reddish-purple violets beside him exhaled such a sweet perfume that he had to draw in a few deep breaths. Then carefully choosing one of the branches he cut it off where it began to grow more slender and started carving the thicker piece.