But little Kirl had got her.

It was not for nothing that little Kirl's eyes were so steady when they looked in your face and his face was so square about the chin, however much he smiled.
Those stout little arms were clinging to neck and leg as if the owner of them would be dragged over the ledge himself before he would leave poor Liesl to her fate.

Let her go?
No! _That_ was not the way little Kirl kept his charge; _that_ was not the way of men on the mountains.
But Liesl was not light, and Kirl was only little, and his breath came and went, and his eyes saw nothing, and the world was whirling round, and a great sob burst from him.

And then a big, big voice said: "Thou little thing! Thou little, good thing!" And two big, big arms came downwards and caught little Kirl and Liesl up together into--oh, such blissful safety! And little Kirl stood clinging to somebody; and what happened next he did not know.

Careless, ungrateful Liesl only shook herself and frisked off, with a little squeal of relief, to join the older and wiser goats.
But little Kirl, when he next knew what he was doing, found that he was crying and sobbing uncontrollably, and big Kirl, the tallest, handsomest man in the village, was patting his shoulders, and soothing and consoling and praising him.