As he settled down on a moss covered rock, the reddish-purple violets beside him exhaled such a sweet perfume that he had to draw in a few deep breaths. Then carefully choosing one of the branches he cut it off where it began to grow more slender and started carving the thicker piece.
“WHAT WILL IT BE WHEN IT’S FINISHED?” ASKED RUSSLI
“What will it be when it’s finished?” asked Russli, who had settled on the stone by Vinzi’s side and was eagerly following the work.
“It’ll be a pipe to play music on,” was the answer.
Russli moved nearer to the carver in delighted surprise, for he was afraid he would lose something of the creation of this wonderful thing. Russli knew the little hollow pipes that usually broke right away, but he had never seen such a thick, long wooden pipe as his cousin was making. Vinzi had learned and invented many things since he had cut his first pipes that could only give forth one tone. He cut several holes now in order to have several tones played on it. But it took considerable time to bore the small round holes, because Vinzi was very particular. Several hours passed. Once in a while Vinzi stopped to listen to the wind singing in the branches, and to the merry wavelets of the mountain stream that gave forth sometimes a song of joy and sometimes a low plaintive note. Sometimes he stooped down to inhale the delicious perfume of the violets beside him. But at last he snapped shut his knife.
“There, Russli! Take your pipe, it is finished!”
With glistening eyes the little boy set his pipe to his lips and produced the most penetrating sound. Russli was quite scared at the loud noise he had made, for he had blown into the pipe with all his might.
“You had better blow it,” he said, giving the instrument to Vinzi.
At that instant they heard a shrill whistle followed by a second. It was clearly a summons.