Chapter VIII

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 children screamed, the Goat-mother wept tears of joy; and after a general rejoicing, the whole party sat down to a comfortable meal, during which the Lieutenant's health was drunk by the Goat-family amidst loud cheering.

"I am sorry we can't invite the whole corps," said the Goat-mother. "It's very cold for them outside, but the fact is I haven't sufficient crockery. As it is, I am forced to make use of oyster shells and the flower pot, though it's very much against my principles."

"Hush!" said the Goat-father, "there's someone knocking!"

There was indeed a hurried rapping at the door, and one of the Watch-Goats put in his head to say that the band of Chamois were seen advancing towards the Châlet.

The tallow candle was immediately put out, the Lieutenant and his detachment seized their weapons, and concealed themselves behind the door, and the Goat-mother and her children were shut up in an inner room, where they waited in fear and trembling.

On came the Chamois with noiseless leaps, bounding into the garden, and approaching the front door with the utmost caution. Everything appeared to be turning out according to their expectations, and they already saw themselves in imagination seated in the Heif-house, revelling in the contents of the Goat-mother's store cupboard.

Their long green coats fluttered in the air, the large bunches of edelweiss in their hats, glistened in the moonlight.

But a low, clear whistle suddenly sounded.

Each Goat sprang from his hiding place, and with a rush that took the Chamois completely by surprise, they fell upon the invaders, and drove them over the precipice.

It was a real triumph; for the Chamois flew down the mountain in the wildest confusion, falling down, and darting over each other in their hurry, and never stopping until they had reached their own haunts in the region of the distant Eismeer.

"A glorious victory!" cried the Lieutenant, "and not a drop of blood shed."

As to the Goat-mother, she had passed through such a moment of terror that she had to be assisted out of the back room by three of the guard, and revived with a cabbage leaf before she could recover herself. She then embraced everyone all round, and the Goat-father broached a barrel of lager-beer; while the tame Fox from the Inn (who had appeared at the Châlet soon after the departure of the rescue party) ran about supplying the visitors with tumblers.

The next day the Free-will Goats were disbanded, and returned to their homes; after receiving in public the thanks of the Goat-King for their distinguished behaviour, and a carved matchbox each "For valour in face of the horns of the enemy."

The Stein-bok Pedlar was begged to make his home at the Heif Châlet, but he loved his wandering life too much to settle down.

"Keep the tame Fox instead of me, ma'am," he said, as he shook hands warmly with his friends at parting. "The poor creature is miserable in captivity."

He then made the Goat-mother a handsome present of all his remaining groceries, and departed once more upon his travels.

That same afternoon a special messenger from the Goat-King arrived with an inlaid musical chair, "as a slight token of regard," for the Heif-father.

"Well, at all events, it's better than a cuckoo clock," said the Goat-mother resignedly, "but let me warn you seriously never to sit down upon it! I know its ways, and though kindly meant, I should have preferred paper-knives!"