Suddenly the fugitive stood still and calmly awaited the arrival of her mistress.
"You wicked Schwarzeli, to frighten me so!" Stefeli exclaimed, grasping hold of the rope around Schwarzeli's neck. "Just wait! If you go on like this, I will bring you no more salt that you lick as though it were so much sugar!"
Schwarzeli rubbed her neck on Stefeli's shoulder as much as to reply, "I did not mean to be bad; it was so jolly to caper over the pasture."
Half way back to the place set aside for grazing, Vinzi met them and asked in great surprise, "Why did you run away all of a sudden, Stefeli? I heard some lovely music two or three times, and when I turned to ask if you heard it too, I saw you coming back with Schwarzeli. Oh, it is such a pity you did not hear it. I cannot describe it. It sounded like a great choir of deep, strong voices floating over the meadow, growing always softer, you know, like the sound of waters far away. It was so beautiful! Come, Stefeli, we will sit down there again, and perhaps we can still hear it."
"Now go along, Schwarzeli, and be good," said Stefeli as she let go the rope and followed her brother.
However, she had scarcely settled down alongside him when she sprang up again, and this time Vinzi with her, for the brown cow had wandered over to the boundary fence and, was pushing hard against the palings, to get through. The two children ran to bring the animal back, and soon the cow was wandering prudently about the proper field.
Stefeli discovered a spot that was especially inviting, where fragrant little wild pinks nodded happily. "Come along, Vinzi, we will rest here. I am sure there will be no more wonderful music under the tree."
The children gazed contentedly on the sunlit landscape and after a period of quiet enjoyment Stefeli said, "I would love to be a cowherd all my life; wouldn't you, Vinzi?"
"No, I would not," replied Vinzi.
"Why not?" inquired Stefeli. "Surely no place is more lovely than this."