"Good evening!" he called out. "Does this hayrick belong to Lorenz Lesa?"
"It does. What do you wish of him?"
"He is our cousin. I belong to Vinzenz Lesa of Leuk, and my father sends greetings to you. You know why I have come," Vinzi informed him confidently, for he hoped this man was the cousin himself.
Sticking his wooden pitchfork into the hay, the man stepped forward to hear the lad better.
"Well, so you are Vinzi!" he said, giving him his hand and looking him straight in the eyes. "It is good that you have come up to your relatives. Did you make the journey all alone?"
Vinzi's heart went out to the friendly speaker. He no longer gazed at the ground, but looked into the kindly eyes and told about his trip and how glad he was to find his cousin so quickly, for he had been frightened at the thought of coming among strangers.
"There is nothing to be afraid of here," said the man good-naturedly. "The boys aren't exactly tame, but you will get along with them. You must be hungry," he continued, "so we will go to my wife, who will attend to that."
With a spring Vinzi landed on the ground and the cousin followed.
Just then a stout woman opened the door of the house and looked calmly around. "I have to let some of the smoke out through the door," she said to her husband, but she looked inquiringly at the boy at his side.
"I am bringing our young cousin from Leuk," he explained. "He is a bit afraid, so you must see to it his fear doesn't grow," and chuckled.