Moni the Goat-Boy

But if it chanced that Moni became too long absorbed in his meditation, one or another of the goats would come along, gaze wonderingly at him and try to attract his attention by bleating, which oftentimes he did not hear for quite a while. Only when Mäggerli came and called after him longingly, then he heard at once and came leaping to it immediately, for his affectionate little kid always remained Moni’s dearest possession.

But before Moni could lie down to sleep, he had to look into the shed once more, to see if it were really possible that the little kid was lying out there and belonged to him.

Jörgli received the ten francs according to the agreement, but he was not allowed to escape from the affair so easily as that. When he returned to the Bath House, he was brought to the landlord who took the boy by the collar, gave him a good shaking, and said threateningly:

“Jörgli! Jörgli! Don’t you try a second time to bring my whole house into bad repute! If anything like this happens a single time again, you will come out of my house in a way that will not please you! See, up there hangs a very sharp willow rod for such cases. Now go and think this over.”

When the goat-boy came along with his flock in the morning, Paula was already standing in front of the house, and she called out:

“Moni, can’t you sing even now?”

He shook his head. “No, I can’t. I am always wondering how much longer Mäggerli will go with me. I never can sing any more as long as I live, and here is the cross.” Whereupon he handed her a little package, for the grandmother had wrapped it carefully for him in three or four papers.

Paula took out the cross from the wrappings and examined it closely. It really was her beautiful cross with the sparkling stones, and quite unharmed. “Well, Moni,” she said now very kindly, “you have given me a great pleasure, for if it had not been for you, I might never have seen my cross again. Now, I am going to give you a pleasure. Go take Mäggerli there out of the shed, she belongs to you now!”

Moni stared at the young lady in astonishment, as if it were impossible to understand her words. At last he stammered: “But how—how can Mäggerli be mine?”

“How?” replied Paula, smiling. “See, last evening I bought her from the landlord and this morning I give her to you. Now can’t you sing once more?”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” exclaimed Moni and ran like mad to the shed, led the little goat out, and took it in his arms. Then he leaped back and held out his hand to Paula and said over and over again:

“I thank you a thousand, thousand times! May God reward you! If I could do something nice for you!”

“Well, then try once more and let us see if you can sing again!” said Paula.

Then Moni sang his song and went on up the mountain with the goats, and his jubilant tones rang down into the valley, so that there was no one in the whole Bath House who did not hear it and many an one turned over in his bed and said: “The goat-boy has good weather once more.”

When Moni, from the first summit, saw Paula still standing below in front of the house, he stepped as far out as possible and sang down at the top of his voice:

“And so blue is the sky there My joy can’t be told.”

The whole day long Moni shouted for joy, and all the goats caught his spirit and jumped and sprang around as if it were a great festival. The sun shone cheerfully down out of the blue sky, and after the great rain, all the little plants were so fresh, and the yellow and red flowers so bright, it seemed to Moni as if he had never seen the mountains and the valley and the whole world so beautiful before. He didn’t let the little kid leave him the whole day; he pulled up the best plants for it and fed it, and said over and over again:

“Mäggerli, you dear Mäggerli, you do not have to die. You are now mine and will come up to the pasture with me as long as we live.” And with resounding singing and yodeling Moni came down again at evening and after he had led the black goat to her shed, he took the little kid in his arms, for it was now coming home with him. Mäggerli did not look as if it would rather stay there, but pressed close to Moni and felt that it was under the best protection, for Moni had for a long time treated it better and more kindly than its own mother.

But when Moni came near his grandmother’s with Mäggerli on his shoulders, she didn’t know at all what to make of it, and although Moni called from a distance:

“She belongs to me, Grandmother, she belongs to me!” she didn’t understand for some time what he meant. But Moni couldn’t explain to her yet; he ran to the shed, and there right next to Brownie, so that it wouldn’t be afraid, he made Mäggerli a fine, soft bed of fresh straw, and laid it down, saying:

“There, Mäggerli, now sleep well in your new home! You must always have this; every day I will make you a new bed!”

Then Moni came back directly to his wondering grandmother, and while they sat together at their supper, he told her the whole story from the very beginning about his three days so full of trouble, and the happy ending to-day.

The grandmother listened very quietly and attentively and when he came to the end, she said earnestly:

“Moni, you must remember what has happened to you now, as long as you live!

He could not carry the wrong around with him any more; he must throw it off. Then Moni seized the little kid, that was jumping about him, took it in his arms and said tenderly: “Oh, Mäggerli, you poor Mäggerli! I have certainly done what I could, but it is wrong, and that must not be done. Oh, if only you didn’t have to die! I can’t bear it!”

And Moni began to cry so hard, that he could no longer speak, and the kid bleated pitifully and crept far under his arm, as if it wanted to cling to him and be protected. Then Moni lifted the little goat on his shoulders, saying:

“Come, Mäggerli, I will carry you home once more to-day. Perhaps I can’t carry you much longer.”

When the flock came down to the Bath House, Paula was again standing on the watch. Moni put the young goat with the black one in the shed, and instead of going on farther, he came toward the young lady and was going past her into the house. She stopped him.

“Still no singing, Moni? Where are you going with such a troubled face?”

“I have to tell about something,” replied Moni, without lifting his eyes.

“Tell about something? What is it? Can’t I know?”

“I must tell the landlord. Something has been found.”

“Found? What is it? I have lost something, a beautiful cross.”

“Yes, that is just what it is.”

“What do you say?” exclaimed Paula, in the greatest surprise. “Is it a cross with sparkling stones?”

“Yes, exactly that.”

“What have you done with it, Moni? Give it to me. Did you find it?”

“No, Jörgli from Küblis found it.”

Then Paula wanted to know who he was and where he lived, and to send some one to Küblis at once to get the cross.

“I will go as fast as I can, and if he still has it I will bring it to you,” said Moni.

It was no longer Jörgli’s secret. If he didn’t know how to bring Moni to his side, all would be lost. He thought and thought.

“Moni,” he said suddenly, “I will promise you something that will delight you, if you will not say anything to a human being about what I have found; you really don’t need to take anything for it, then you will have nothing to do with it. If you will do as I say, I will make my father buy Mäggerli, so she will not be killed. Will you?”

A hard struggle arose in Moni. It was wrong to help keep the discovery secret. Jörgli had opened his hand. In it lay a cross set with a large number of stones, which sparkled in many colors. Moni realized that it was not a worthless thing which no one would inquire about; he felt exactly as if he himself should be keeping what did not belong to him if he remained silent. But on the other hand was the little, affectionate Mäggerli, that was going to be killed in a horrible way with a knife, and he could prevent it if he kept silent. Even now the little kid was lying so trustfully beside him, as if, she knew that he would always keep it; no, he could not let this happen, he must try to save it.

“Yes, I will, Jörgli,” he said, but without any enthusiasm.

“Then it is a bargain!” and Jörgli offered his hand to Moni, that he might seal the argument, as that was the only way to make a promise binding.

Jörgli was very glad that now his secret was safe; but as Moni had become so quiet, and he had much farther to go to reach home than Moni, he considered it well to start along with his two goats. He said good-night to Moni and whistled for his two companions, which meanwhile had joined Moni’s grazing goats, but not without much pushing and other doubtful behavior between the two parties, for the goats from Fideris had never heard that they ought to be polite to visitors and the goats from Küblis did not know that they ought not to seek out the best plants or push the others away from them, when they were visiting.

The goats came, too, and placed themselves here and there under the rock. The aristocratic Blackie immediately wanted to protect her beautiful shiny coat and crept in under the rock before Moni did. She was now standing behind Moni and looking out from her comfortable corner into the pouring rain. Mäggerli was standing in front of its protector under the projecting rock and gently rubbed its little head against his knee; then it looked up at him in surprise, because Moni did not say a word, and it was not accustomed to that. Moni sat thoughtfully, leaning on his staff, for in such weather he always kept it in his hand, to keep himself from slipping on the steep places, for on such days he wore shoes. Now, as he sat for hours under the Rain-rock, he had plenty of time for reflection.

Moni shook his head. “That’s nothing. I wouldn’t be an egg-boy; I would a thousand times rather be goat-boy, it is much finer.”

“But why?”

“Eggs are not alive, you can’t speak a word to them, and they don’t run after you like the goats which are glad to see you when you come, and are fond of you, and understand every word you say to them; you can’t have any pleasure with eggs as you can with the goats up here.”

“Yes, and you,” interrupted Jörgli, “what great pleasure do you have up here? Just now you have had to get up six times while we were eating, just on account of that silly kid, to prevent it from falling down below—is that a pleasure?”

“Yes, I like to do that! Isn’t it so, Mäggerli? Come! Come here!” Moni jumped up and ran after the kid, for it was making dangerous leaps for sheer joy. When he sat down again, Jörgli said:

“There is another way to keep the young goats from falling over the rocks, without having to be always jumping after them, as you do.”

“What is it?” asked Moni.

“Drive a stick firmly into the ground and fasten the goat by the leg to it; she will kick furiously, but she can’t get away.”

“You needn’t think I would do any such thing to the little kid!” said Moni quite angrily and drew Mäggerli to him and held her fast, as if to protect her from any such treatment.

“You really won’t have to take care of that one much longer,” began Jörgli again. “It won’t come up here many times more.”

“What? What? What did you say, Jörgli?” demanded Moni.

“Bah, don’t you know about it? The landlord will not raise her, she is too weak; there never was a more feeble goat. He wanted to sell her to my father, but he wouldn’t have her either; now the landlord is going to have her killed next week, and then he will buy our spotted one.”

Moni had become quite pale from terror. At first he couldn’t speak a word; but now he broke out and complained aloud over the little kid:

“No, no, that shall not be done, Mäggerli, it shall not be done. They shall not slay you, I can’t bear that. Oh, I would rather die with you; no, that cannot be!”

“Don’t do so,” said Jörgli, angrily, and pulled Moni up, for in his grief he had thrown himself face down on the ground. “Stand up, you know the kid really belongs to the landlord and he can do what he likes with her. Think no more about it! Come, I know something. See! See!”

Meanwhile Moni coming down from above, and another goat-boy coming up from below, met at the same spot and looked at each other in astonishment. But they were well acquainted, and after the first surprise greeted each other cordially. It was Jörgli from Küblis. Half the morning he had been looking in vain for Moni and now he met him up here, where he had not expected to find him.

One sunny morning Moni had once more reached the Pulpit-rock, and was about to throw himself down, when he changed his mind. “No, go on! The last time you had to leave all the nice little plants because we had to go after Mäggerli; now we will go up there again, so that you can finish nibbling them!”

The goats all leaped with delight after him, for they knew they were going up to the lovely bushes on the Dragon-stones. To-day Moni held his little Mäggerli the whole time fast in his arms, pulled the sweet plants himself from the rocks and let her eat out of his hand. This pleased the little goat best of all. She rubbed her head quite contentedly from time to time against Moni’s shoulder and bleated happily. So the whole morning passed, before Moni noticed, from his own hunger, that it had grown late before he was aware of it. But he had left his luncheon below near the Pulpit-rock, in the little hole, for he had intended to return again at noon.

“Well, you have had your fill of good things, and I have had nothing,” he said to his goats. “Now I must have something too, and you will find enough more down below. Come along!” Whereupon he gave a loud whistle, and the whole flock started away