there?" exclaimed Barbara, pointing
to a spot a good distance from the path. "She is climbing up with the
goatherd Peter and his goats. I wonder why he is so late to-day. I
must say, it suits us well enough; he can look after the child while
you tell me everything without being interrupted."

"It will be very easy for Peter to watch her," remarked Deta; "she is
bright for her five years and keeps her eyes wide open. I have often
noticed that and I am glad for her, for it will be useful with the
uncle. He has nothing left in the whole wide world, but his cottage
and two goats!"

"Did he once have more?" asked Barbara.

"I should say so. He was heir to a large farm in Domleschg. But
setting up to play the fine gentleman, he soon lost everything with
drink and play. His parents died with grief and he himself
disappeared from these parts. After many years he came back with a
half-grown boy, his son, Tobias, that was his name, became a carpenter
and turned out to be a quiet, steady fellow. Many strange rumors went
round about the uncle and I think that was why he left Domleschg for
Doerfli. We acknowledged relationship, my mother's grandmother being a
cousin of his. We called him uncle, and because we are related on my
father's side to nearly all the people in the hamlet they too all
called him uncle. He was named 'Alm-Uncle' when he moved up to the
Alm."

"But what happened to Tobias?" asked Barbara eagerly.

"Just wait. How can I tell you everything at once?" exclaimed Deta.
"Tobias was an apprentice in Mels, and when he was made master, he
came home to the village and married my sister Adelheid. They always
had been fond of each other and they lived very happily as man and
wife. But their joy was short. Two years afterwards, when Tobias was
helping to build a house, a beam fell on him and killed him. Adelheid
was thrown into a violent fever with grief and fright, and never
recovered from it. She had never been strong and had often suffered
from queer spells, when we did not know whether she was awake or
asleep. Only a few weeks after Tobias's death they buried poor
Adelheid.

"People said that heaven had punished the uncle for his misdeeds.
After the death of his son he never spoke to a living soul. Suddenly
he moved up to the Alp, to live there at enmity with God and man.

"My mother and I took Adelheid's little year-old baby, Heidi, to live
with us. When I went to Ragatz I took her with me; but in the spring
t