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Updated: June 2, 2025
Sometimes the young Goats in their invisible eyrie, would go off into shouts of merriment as a group of excursionists crawled slowly into sight; the ladies in their short skirts and large flapping hats, alpenstock in hand, clinging desperately to the guides as they ascended every slippery ice-peak. But on these occasions the Goat-mother always reproved them.
The Goat-mother had lit a comfortable fire in the Heif Châlet, and the Goat-father's slippers were warming against the stove; when a sound of approaching voices and footsteps made her start up in excited expectation. The voices came nearer and nearer. Now she could distinguish the National Goat Song, and in another moment the door flew open, and Herr Heif rushed in accompanied by his rescuers.
The boat was soon dragged from its hiding place, and Heinrich paddled it to the spot where the Goat-mother was resting on a snow-bank. She embarked with some nervousness, clutching desperately at her handbag. They pushed off, and were immediately carried by the current through the little round opening of the cave into the pale green glistening depths of the mysterious world beyond.
"Such a treat, especially the light yellow sort with printing, that always has crumbs in it," said the Goat-mother. "It makes a delicious meal. We generally have it on fête days." The family of the Heif Goats consisted of the Heif-father, his wife, and their four children, Heinrich, Lizbet, Pyto, and Lénora.
"Follow me, mother," said Heinrich. "I see the entrance to the Palace just in front of us." The Goat-mother gathered up her skirts, and assisted by Pyto, began to scramble down the bank to the side of the streamlet. "Where is the boat kept?" she enquired. "In a snowdrift close to the entrance," replied Heinrich. "Don't jump about near the crevasses, Pyto, and I'll go and fetch it."
There was no need for the Heif family to row. They were swept along past the ice walls, and in a few minutes reached the Goat-King's landing-place. A small inlet with a flat shore, on which were arranged two camp stools and a piece of red carpet. "Here we are at last, dear children," said the Goat-mother. "What a relief it is, to be sure! Is my bonnet straight, Pyto? and do pull your blouse down.
By this time Heinrich and Pyto had hastily dressed themselves in out-door costume, and the Goat-mother was rushing 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!
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 assure you." "Shall I bring you a glass of lager-beer?" enquired the Heif-mother.
"It is such a comfort to be secluded in these disturbed times," the Goat-mother often remarked to her husband. "If I lived near a high road I should never know a moment's happiness. The children are so giddy, they would be gambolling about round the very wheels of the char-
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.
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