Heidi now felt quite happy again, and her little brain was so full of new impressions and new thoughts that she did not speak any more until they had reached the hut. The grandfather was sitting under the fir trees, where he had put up a new seat. Heidi ran up to him, followed by the white and brown goats, for they knew their own master and stall. Peter called out after her, "Come with me again tomorrow! Good-night!" For he was anxious for more than one reason that Heidi should go with him the next day. "O, Grandfather," cried Heidi, "it was so beautiful. The fire, and the roses on the rocks, and the blue and yellow flowers, and look what I have brought you!" And opening the apron that held her flowers she shook them all out at her grandfather's feet. But the poor flowers, how changed they were! Heidi hardly knew them again. They looked like dried bits of hay, not a single little flower cup stood open. "O, Grandfather, what is the matter with them?" exclaimed Heidi in shocked surprise, "they were not like that this morning, why do they look so now?" "They like to stand out there in the sun and not to be shut up in an apron," said her grandfather. "Then I will never gather any more. But, Grandfather, why did the great bird go on croaking so?" she continued in an eager tone of inquiry. "Go along now and get into your bath while I go and get some milk; when we are together at supper I will tell you all about it." Heidi obeyed, and when later she was sitting on her high stool before her milk bowl with her grandfather beside her, she repeated her question, "Why does the great bird go on croaking and screaming down at us, Grandfather?" "He is mocking at the people who live down below in the villages, because they all go huddling and gossipping together, and encourage one another in evil talking and deeds. He calls out, 'If you would separate and each go your own way and come up here and live on a height as I do, it would be better for you!'" there was almost a wildness in the old man's voice as he spoke, so that Heidi seemed to hear the croaking of the bird again even more distinctly. "Why haven't the mountains any names?" Heidi went on. "They have names," answered her grandfather, "and if you can describe one of them to me that I know I will tell you what it is called." Heidi then described to him the rocky mountain with the two high peaks so exactly that the grandfather was delighted. "Just so, I know it," and he told her its name. Then Heidi told him of the mountain with the great snowfield, and how it had been on fire. The grandfather explained to her it was the sun that did it. "When he says good-night to the mountains he throws his most beautiful colors over them, so that they may not forget him before he comes again the next day."