crossly.
"Here," called back a voice from somewhere. Peter could see no
one, for Heidi was seated on the ground at the foot of a small
hill thickly overgrown with sweet smelling prunella; the whole
air seemed filled with its fragrance, and Heidi thought she had
never smelt anything so delicious. She sat surrounded by the
flowers, drawing in deep breaths of the scented air.
"Come along here!" called Peter again. "You are not to fall over
the rocks, your grandfather gave orders that you were not to do
so."
"Where are the rocks?" asked Heidi, answering him back. But she
did not move from her seat, for the scent of the flowers seemed
sweeter to her with every breath of wind that wafted it towards
her.
"Up above, right up above. We have a long way to go yet, so come
along! And on the topmost peak of all the old bird of prey sits
and croaks."
That did it. Heidi immediately sprang to her feet and ran up to
Peter with her apron full of flowers.
"You have got enough now," said the boy as they began climbing
up again together. "You will stay here forever if you go on
picking, and if you gather all the flowers now there will be none
for to-morrow."
This last argument seemed a convincing one to Heidi, and
moreover her apron was already so full that there was hardly room
for another flower, and it would never do to leave nothing to
pick for another day. So she now kept with Peter, and the goats
also became more orderly in their behavior, for they were
beginning to smell the plants they loved that grew on the higher
slopes and clambered up now without pause in their anxiety to
reach them. The spot where Peter generally halted for his goats
to pasture and where he took up his quarters for the day lay at
the foot of the high rocks, which were covered for some distance
26