“Bambi!”
He stopped abruptly. That was one of his own people.
It was heard again, “Bambi ... is it you?”
There was Gobo stuck helplessly in the snow. He had no strength at all and could not even get onto his feet. He lay there as if he had been buried and merely raised his head weakly. Bambi went over to him in some agitation.
“Where’s your mother, Gobo?” he gasped, “and where’s Faline?” Bambi spoke quickly, agitated and impatient. In his anxiety his heart continued to beat hard.
“Mother and Faline had to go,” answered Gobo in despair. He spoke gently, but as earnest and as wise as a grownup. “They had to leave me lying here. I’ve had it. You’ve got to go too, Bambi.”
“Get up!” Bambi yelled. “Gobo, get up! You’ve been resting long enough. There isn’t any more time for that! Get up! Come with me!”
“No, just leave it, Bambi,” answered Gobo quietly, “I can’t stand up. It’s impossible. I wish I could come with you, you know that, but I’m just too weak.”
“What’s going to happen to you then?” Bambi persisted.
“I don’t know. I expect I’ll die,” said Gobo simply.
The shouting started again and the sound of it came over to them. Between the shouts, new thunderclaps. Bambi was alarmed. There were rapid bangs and cracks from the undergrowth, rumblings sped across the snow, and in among the uproar young Karus came galloping over to them. “Run!” he called when he saw Bambi there. “Don’t just stand there, anyone who still can run, run!” He went past them in an instant and his headlong flight yanked Bambi along with him. Bambi was hardly aware whether he had started running again or not, and it was only a while later that he said, “Farewell, Gobo.” But by that time he was already too far away. Gobo could no longer hear him.
He ran through the woods, penetrated by the noise and the thunderclaps that seemed to be seeking him out, he ran around until it was evening. When darkness swept down it became quiet. There was soon a light wind blowing, helping to blow away that horrible storm that had been raging far and wide. But the terror remained. The first person Bambi saw whom he knew was Ronno. His limp was worse than ever. “Over there, where the oaks are,” Ronno said, “the fox is there, lying wounded. I’ve just come past him. It’s terrible, the way he’s suffering. He’s biting at the snow and in the earth.”
“Have you seen my mother?” Bambi asked.
“No,” answered Ronno shyly, and he quickly went away.
Later in the night Bambi came across Mrs. Nettla with Faline. All three were very glad to see each other.
“Have you seen my mother?” Bambi asked.
“No,” replied Faline. “I don’t even know where my mother is.”
“No,” said Mrs. Nettla cheerfully, “and that’s a fine mess for me. I was glad when I didn’t have to put up with children any more, and now suddenly I’ve got two of them I’ve got to look after. Thanks a lot!”
Bambi and Faline laughed.
They start talking about Gobo. Bambi told them about how he had found him, and that made them so sad that they began to cry. But Mrs. Nettla wouldn’t allow them to cry. “You’ve got to see that the most important thing now is to find something to eat. It’s unheard of! We haven’t had a bite to eat all day.” She led the two of them to a place where there was still some greenery, hanging low and still not quite dried out. Mrs. Nettla was exceptionally well-informed. She did not touch anything herself but urged Bambi and Faline to take a good meal. At places where she knew there was grass she pushed the snow aside and ordered them, “Here ... here is a good place,” or she would say, “Wait ... we can soon find something better than this.” But between giving this advice she would grumble, “This is so stupid! Children are so much trouble!”
Suddenly they saw Auntie Ena coming and they ran up to her. “Auntie Ena!” Bambi exclaimed. He was the first to have seen her. Faline was beside herself with joy and jumped up to her. “Mother!” But Ena was crying, and she was dead tired.
“We’ve lost Gobo,” she lamented. “I’ve been looking for him ... I’ve been to his sleeping place, out there in the snow where he collapsed ... it was empty ... he’s gone ... my poor little Gobo ...”
Mrs. Nettla grumbled, “You’d do better to try to find out which way he went, that would be more sensible than crying.”
“There are no tracks to show which way he went,” said Auntie Ena.
“But ... He! ... He left lots of tracks ... He was there where Gobo was sleeping ...”
They were all silent. Then Bambi asked timidly, “Auntie Ena ... have you seen my mother?”
“No,” replied Auntie Ena, quietly.
Bambi was never to see his mother again.
The meadow had long since lost its catkins. Everything began to turn green, although the young leaves on the bushes and the trees were still small. Shimmering in the tender light of early morning they showed a smiling freshness and seemed like little children when they have just woken up.
Bambi stood in front of a hazel bush, striking his new crown against the wood. That was so enjoyable. And it was also necessary, as the glory of his head was still wrapped in velvet and fur. They had to come off, that was a matter of course; and no-one with any sense of tidiness would just wait for them to fall off by themselves. Bambi swept his crown so that the coating of velvet was torn into shreds, and long strips of it dangled around his ears. While he struck up and down at the hazel bush he felt that his crown was harder than it had been. This feeling permeated his whole being and gave him an inebriating sense of pride and strength. He pushed himself harder against the bush and this coating was torn off in long pieces. The naked, white wood could be seen, and in the unfamiliar open air it quickly turned a rusty red. Bambi was not able to care about that. He saw the pale flesh of the wood flash up under his movements, and that enchanted him. Here in this round place there were many other hazel bushes and dogwood bushes that showed the marks of his efforts.
“Have you nearly finished then ...?” said a cheerful voice from nearby.
Bambi threw his head up and looked around.
There sat the squirrel with a friendly look on his face.
Bambi and the squirrel were nearly startled by the woodpecker who, sitting close in to the trunk of the oak tree, called down, “Oh, please excuse me ... I always ‘ave to laugh when I see the two of you like that.”
“What is it then that’s making you laugh so loudly?” asked Bambi politely.
“Well then,” thought the woodpecker, “you’re doing the whole thing wrong. For one thing, you ought to have chosen a tree that’s stronger, you won’t get anything from a thin little hazel bush.”
“What should I be getting, then?” asked Bambi.
“Beetles ...” the woodpecker laughed. “Beetles and grubs ... Look, this is how you do it!” He drummed on trunk of the oak. Tok, tok, tok, tok.
The squirrel rushed up to him and quarrelsomely asked, “What do you think you’re talking about? The prince isn’t looking for beetles and grubs ...”
“Why not?” asked the woodpecker complacently. They taste delicious ... “He bit into a beetle, swallowed it, and went on drumming.
“You don’t understand,” the squirrel scolded again. “A noble gentleman like this has other, higher goals to pursue. You just make yourself look ridiculous.”
“It doesn’t matter to me,” the woodpecker replied. “I don’t care a thing about these higher goals of yours,” he called cheerfully and flew away.
The squirrel scampered back down.
“Don’t you know me?” he asked, looking very satisfied with himself.
“I think I do know you,” was Bambi’s friendly answer. “You live up there ...” And he indicated the oak tree above them.
The squirrel looked at him with a grin. “You’re confusing me with my grandmother,” he said. “I knew it. I knew you were confusing me with my grandmother. My grandmother lived up there ever since she was a child, Prince Bambi. She often told me about you. Only ... only then she was killed by the polecat ... a long time ago, that was ... in the wintertime ... don’t you remember?”
“Yes, I do,” Bambi nodded. “I heard about it.”
“Well then ... and after that my father moved in here,” the squirrel told him. He sat up, showed astonishment in his eyes, and held both his paws politely on his white breast. “But ... you might also be confusing me with my father. Did you know my father?”
“I’m afraid not,” Bambi answered. “I never did have that pleasure.”
“That’s what I thought!” exclaimed the squirrel in satisfaction. “My father was so surly and shy. He didn’t have any contact with anyone.”
“Where is he now?” Bambi asked.
“Oh,” said the squirrel, “a month ago the owl got him. Yes. And now it’s me who lives up here. I’m very satisfied with it. Just think, it was up here that I was born.”
Bambi began to turn and was about to go.
“Wait,” called the squirrel quickly. “I didn’t really mean to tell you all that stuff. I wanted to say something completely different.”
Bambi stayed where he was. “What was that then?” he asked patiently.
“Yeah ... what was that?” The squirrel thought about it, then made another sudden leap, sat upright leaning against his magnificent bushy tail, and looked at Bambi. “Right! Now I’ve got it,” he continued to burble. “I wanted to tell you that you’ll soon be ready with that crown of yours, and it’s going to be very beautiful.”
“Do you think so?” asked Bambi, pleased.
“Beautiful!” declared the squirrel, and in his enthusiasm he pressed both his forepaws against his white breast. “So high! So majestic! And such long, bright points! You don’t often find them like that!”
“Really?” Bambi asked. He became so pleased that he went back to the hazel bush and started striking at it for a little while longer. The velvet was thrown around into the air in long strands.
Meanwhile the squirrel went on speaking. “I really must say that others of your age don’t have a crown as magnificent as yours. You wouldn’t think it’s possible. Anyone who knew you last summer – and I did catch sight of you a few times in the distance - probably wouldn’t believe you’re the same deer ... such thin little sticks you had in those days ...”
Bambi suddenly stopped. “Goodbye,” he said hurriedly, “I have to go!” And he ran off.
He did not like being reminded of the previous summer. It had been a difficult time for him. First of all, after his mother had disappeared he had felt totally abandoned. The winter had been so long, the spring came hesitantly and it was a long time before anything green appeared. Without Mrs. Nettla Bambi would not have been able to manage, but she had taken him in and helped him in every way she could. Nonetheless, he often found himself alone. He missed Gobo all the time, poor Gobo, who must now be dead, like the others. Gobo was continually on his mind at this time, and it was only too late that he realized how lovable and he had been. He rarely saw Faline. She always stayed close to her mother, and turned out to be remarkably shy. Later, when, at last, it had become warm, Bambi began to recover his mood. He wiped his first crown clean of its velvet and was very proud of it. But a bitter disappointment was soon to follow. The other crown-wearers chased him away whenever they saw him. They pushed him away angrily, they would not tolerate him going close to anyone, mishandled him, until, with every step he took, he was afraid of being found by them, afraid of being seen anywhere, and he crept along the most hidden paths with a feeling of being oppressed. At the same time, while the days became warmer and sunnier, he became gripped by a strange unease. His heart became ever more oppressed with a yearning that was both painful and welcome. Whenever he happened to see Faline or one of her friends in the distance he was overcome by a storm of excitement that he could not understand. It even happened quite often that that he would recognize just a trace of where she had been, or that he would draw in breath to test the air and smell that she was nearby. He felt irresistibly drawn to her ever more often. But if he gave in to this longing that drew him to her it always turned out badly. Either he would find no-one and in the end, tired out after wandering about for so long, have to acknowledge that the others were avoiding him, or he came across one of the crowned heads, who would immediately leap out at him, hit him, push him and drive him away, shouting insults. Worst of all, Ronno and Karus had taken against him. No, that was not a happy time.
And now the squirrel had stupidly reminded him of it. He suddenly became quite wild and began to run. The tits and the wrens flew out of the bushes in alarm as he went past them and asked each other urgently, “Who’s that then ... Who was that?” Bambi did not hear them. A pair of magpies laughed nervously, “Has something happened?” The jay was cross and shouted, “What’s going on?” Bambi paid him no attention. Above him the oriole flew from tree to tree, “Good morning ... I’m ... hap-hap-happy!” Bambi made no answer. All around him the thicket was already light and the rays of the sun ran through it in fine beams. Bambi did not bother about that. There was a sudden loud rattling sound from near his feet; a whole rainbow of gorgeous colours flashed up and shone into his eyes so that he was dazzled and he stopped. It was Janello, the pheasant, who had shot into the air in startlement because Bambi had nearly stepped on him. He rushed away, scolding Bambi as he went. “Unheard of!” he shouted in his cracked, crow-like voice. Bambi was bewildered and watched him go. “Well it’s turned out alright, but you really were being very careless ...” said a soft, twittering voice from nearby on the ground. It was Janelline, the pheasant’s wife. She sat, brooding, on the ground. My husband was terribly alarmed,” she continued, dissatisfied, “and so was I. But I can’t move from this spot ... I can’t move from this spot whatever happens ... you could very easily have trodden on me ...”
Bambi was slightly ashamed. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he stuttered, “I wasn’t paying attention.”
Janelline answered, “Oh, please! Maybe it wasn’t quite that bad. But my husband and I, we’re so nervous at present. You understand ...”
Bambi understood nothing at all and went on his way. He had become calmer now. All around him the wood was singing. The light became warmer and more golden, the leaves on the bushes, the grass on the ground and steam rising from the damp earth took on a sharp aroma. Bambi’s youthful strength swelled up in him and stretched out into all his limbs so that he became quite stiff, his movements became hesitant as if he were something artificial.
He went over to a small elder bush and, lifting his knees high into the air, he struck against the ground with powerful blows so that clods of earth flew up from it. His fine, sharp, cloven hoof cut the grass away that was growing here, wild peas and wild leeks, violets and snowdrops, he scraped them all away till the earth lay before him quite dashed and bare. With each blow a dull thump could be heard.
Bambi caught the attention of two moles who had been tumbling around at the roots of an old privet bush. They looked up and watched him. “But ... that’s just ridiculous, what he’s doing,” whispered one of them. “That’s not how you dig ...”
The other raised the fine corners of his mouth into a jeering grin. “He’s got no idea ... that’s obvious ... But that’s what you get when people do things they don’t understand.”
Bambi suddenly stopped, lifted his head up high, listened, and looked around at the undergrowth. There was a flash of red between the twigs, it was unclear, but he could make out the points of a crown. Bambi snorted. Whoever it was creeping about there, Ronno or Karus or anyone else – go at him! I’ll show him I’m not afraid of them any more, he thought! It was as if he had suddenly been taken over by his own exhilaration. I’ll show them that I’m the one they should be afraid of!
He ran into the bushes with such force that they rattled, the branches cracked and broke. Now, Bambi could see the other deer in front of him. He was not able to recognize him because everything was swimming in front of his eyes. He could think of nothing but that he should go at him! With his crown lowered deep he stormed forward, gathering all his strength into his neck, ready to strike. He could already smell his opponent’s hairy coat, could already see nothing in front of him but the red wall of his flank. Then the other made a very gentle movement. Bambi had expected him to stay still but he was robbed of this advantage when he rushed at him his antlers met nothing but thin air. He nearly fell over, but he staggered, pulled himself together, and swung back round to renew his attack.
The he saw who the elder was.
Bambi was so surprised he lost control of himself. He would have been ashamed to simply run from the spot, although that was what he most wanted to do. And he was ashamed to stay. He did not move.
“What’s this then?” the elder asked quietly. His deep voice, at the same time so relaxed and so imperious, drove itself, as it always did, straight through the centre of Bambi’s heart. He remained silent.
The elder asked again, “What’s all this?”
“I ... I thought,” stammered Bambi. “I th ... thought it was Ronno or ...” He became silent and dared to look shyly at the elder, and as he looked he became even more bewildered.
The aged one stood there, motionless and powerful. His head had, by now, turned perfectly white, and his dark, proud eyes shone from their depths.
“Why not against me ...?” the aged one asked.
Bambi looked at him, filled with a remarkable enthusiasm and shuddering with a mysterious thrill. He wanted to call out, “Because I love you!” But, instead, he answered, “I don’t know ...”
The aged one looked at him. “I haven’t seen you for a long time. You’ve grown big and strong.”
Bambi gave no answer. He trembled with joy.
The elder continued, he wanted to test him and make his assessment of him. Then, surprisingly, he stepped very close to Bambi, causing Bambi much alarm. “Whatever you do, do it with nobility ...,” the aged one said.
He turned away, and in the next moment he was gone. Bambi remained on the same spot for a long time afterwards.
It was summertime and burning hot. The yearning began to rise again in Bambi, the yearning that he had felt earlier, but this time it was much stronger than before, it boiled his blood and made him restless.
He wandered far and wide.
One day, he came across Faline. He had not expected to find her at all, for his thoughts were at that time very confused from all the restless yearning that had possessed him, and he had not realized she was there. Now she was standing in front of him. For a while he was speechless and merely stared at her, then, awestruck, he said, “Faline ... you’ve become so beautiful ...”
Faline retorted, “Can you still recognize me then?”
“Of course I can still recognize you!” Bambi exclaimed. “We grew up together, didn’t we?”
Faline sighed. “It’s been so long since we saw each other.” And then she added, “People can become complete strangers to each other,” but she said it in a teasing way, simple and elegant, like she had used to do.
They remained together, where they were.
“This path here,” said Bambi after a long pause, “this is the path I used to go along with my mother when I was a child...”
“It leads to the meadow,” said Faline.
“It was on the meadow that I first saw you,” said Bambi, almost gaily. “Do you remember?”
“Yes,” Faline answered, “me and Gobo.” She sighed gently. “Poor Gobo.”
Bambi repeated her. “Poor Gobo.”
Then they began to talk about those days and frequently asked each other, “Do you remember?” It turned out, to their delight, that they both remembered everything.
“Out there, on the meadow,” Bambi recalled, “we played tag ... remember?”
“I think we did ...,” said Faline, and then she jumped away in a flash. At first Bambi just stood there, wondering what had happened, but then he rushed after her. “Wait! Wait for me!” he shouted gaily.
“No, I’m not going to wait,” Faline teased him. “I’m in a tremendous hurry!” And in short leaps she curved her way far across the bushes and grass. Finally, Bambi caught up with her, blocked her way, and then they stood quietly together. They laughed, and were very contented.
Faline suddenly jumped into the air as if something had stung her and leapt away again. Bambi rushed after her. Faline made a curve, and then another, threw herself from side to side and got away from Bambi time after time.
“Stay where you are!” he gasped. “Just stay where you are ... I’ve got to ask you something.”
Faline stood still. She was curious and asked “What do you need to ask me?”
Bambi said nothing.
“Oh, well if you’re just cheating ...” said Faline and was about to run off.
“No!” Bambi quickly exclaimed. “Stay there ... I want ... I want to ask you ... do you love me, Faline?”
She looked at him with even more curiosity than before and felt slightly wary.” I don’t know.”
“Yes you do,” Bambi insisted. “You must know! And I know it too, I can feel it perfectly well that I love you. I’ve got a furious love for you, Faline. So now tell me, do you love me?”
“Maybe, it could well be that I’m fond of you,” she answered casually.
“And will you stay with me?” enquired Bambi, becoming more excited.
“If you ask me nicely” ... said Faline gaily.
Bambi lost control of himself and exclaimed. “I am asking you, Faline! My love, my beautiful Faline, do you hear me? I’m asking you with all my heart!”
“Then I certainly will stay with you,” said Faline softly – and then she was gone.
Enchanted, Bambi shot off again in pursuit of her. Faline swept across the meadow, turned sharply and disappeared into a thicket. But when Bambi also turned suddenly in order to follow her there was a stormy rustling in the bushes, and out sprang Karus.
“Stop!” he called.
Bambi did not understand. He was too occupied with Faline. “Let me pass,” he said hurriedly, “I haven’t got the time for you!”
“Go away from here!” Karus ordered him crossly. “Go away, now! If not I will hunt you down till there’s not an ounce of breath left in you. I forbid you to chase after Faline!”
Slowly, Bambi began to remember the previous summer, when he was so often humiliated by being chased away. He suddenly became angry. He said not a word, but immediately lowered his crown and threw himself at Karus.
He hit him with such force than no-one could have resisted it and Karus was lying in the grass before he knew what had happened to him.
He got up again as fast as lightning, but he was barely back on his feet when he was struck by another blow that left him reeling.
“Bambi!” he shouted, and was about to shout a second time, “Bam...” when a third blow slid down from his shoulder and caused so much pain it took his breath away.
Karus jumped to one side to avoid receiving yet another blow from Bambi. He suddenly felt remarkably weak, and realized, to his disgust, that this was now a matter of life and death. A cold fear took hold of him. He turned to flee from Bambi who was rushing close behind, and realized from Bambi’s silence that in every sense, his anger and his ruthlessness, he was determined to kill him. Karus fell into a panic. He turned away from the path, used the last of his strength to break through into the bushes, there was nothing he could wish for, nothing he could think of, other than to yearn for mercy or for rescue.
Bambi suddenly stopped and left him alone. Karus was so terrified that he did not notice this and ran on through the bushes, as well as he could.
But Bambi had stopped because he had heard the fine call of Faline. He listened, there she called again, in fear, oppressed. He immediately turned round and hurried back.
Once he was back on the meadow he saw her just as she was fleeing into the thicket, pursued by Ronno.
“Ronno!” called Bambi. He was not aware that he had called out.
Ronno was not able to run very fast because his limp held him back, and he stopped.
“Well, look who it is,” he said in a genteel tone, “it’s little Bambi! Can I help you in any way?”
“I want,” said Bambi, calmly but in a voice that was distorted by the anger he was suppressing and the power he held back, “I want you to leave Faline alone and I want you to go away, immediately.”
“Oh, is that all?” said Ronno with contempt. “What a cheeky young lad you’ve turned into ... I never would have expected that of you.”
“Ronno,” said Bambi even more gently, “it’s for your sake that I want it. Because if you don’t go away now you will wish you could run away on those legs of yours, but you won’t be able to run away any more ...”
“What?!” Ronno called out crossly, “Because I’ve got a limp, is it? Is that why you talk to me like that? You can hardly notice it anyway. Or perhaps, after seeing what a pitiful coward Karus was, you think I’m frightened of you. Let me tell you this ...”
“No, Ronno,” Bambi interrupted him, “let me tell you something: Go Away!” His voice quivered as he spoke. “I’ve always liked you, Ronno. I’ve always thought you’re very clever and I’ve felt respect for you because you’re much older than me. But now I’m telling you, for the last time, go away ... I haven’t got any more patience left ...!”
“Pity you’ve got so little patience,” said Ronno with contempt. “A great pity for you, lad. But now just calm down, I’ll soon be finished with you. You won’t have to wait long. Or maybe you’ve forgotten how many times I’ve pushed you along.”
Bambi had no words to put against this reminder and was no longer able to control himself. He rushed at Ronno like a madman, and Ronno received him with his head lowered. They crashed together. Ronno stood his ground and wondered why Bambi did not back away. He was also astonished at this sudden attack, he had not expected Bambi to attack at all. He felt uncomfortable at Bambi’s enormous strength and realized he would need to pull himself together. They stood there, pressed brow to brow, and Ronno decided he would use a trick. He backed away suddenly so that Bambi lost his balance and tumbled over.
But Bambi raised himself on his hind legs and threw himself at Ronno with twice as much fury, before Ronno had even found the time to stand firm. There was a sharp crack as one of the branches of Ronno’s crown broke. He thought his entire forehead had been smashed. He saw stars in front of his eyes and heard a swishing in his ears. In the next moment a powerful blow tore open his shoulder. He had no breath, he lay on the floor and Bambi stood angrily over him.
“Leave me alone,” Ronno groaned.
Bambi continued to strike him anywhere he could. There was a gleam in his eyes. He seemed to have no thought of showing any mercy.
“Please ... just stop,” Ronno begged him, pitifully. “You do know I walk with a limp ... I was only making a joke ... spare me ... don’t you understand a joke ...?”
Bambi, without a word, stopped his attack. With great effort, Ronno stood up. He was bleeding and he staggered. Without a word, he limped away.
Bambi was about to go into the thicket to find Faline, but then she came out of it. She had been standing close to the edge of the trees and seen everything. “That was wonderful,” she said with a laugh. But then she became serious and gently added, “I love you.”
The two of them went on their way together and they were very happy.
One day they were deep in the woods looking for the little clearing where Bambi had last come across the elder. Bambi told Faline about him with great enthusiasm.
“Maybe we’ll find him again, I really want to find him again.”
“That would be nice,” said Faline perkily. “I’d really like to talk with him some time.” But she was not telling the truth. She may well have been curious, but in fact she was afraid of the elder.
The sky was already light grey, the sun was about to rise.
They ambled along next to each other into the place where the bushes and wild cabbages stood isolated from other vegetation, so that there was a clear view in all directions. They heard a rustling not far away. They immediately stopped and looked in that direction. The stag strode slowly and powerfully through the bushes and into the clearing. In the twilight it was not possible to see any colours, and he appeared as an enormous grey shadow.
Faline immediately screamed. Bambi took hold of himself. He was, of course, just as startled as Faline and her scream only made it worse, but her voice had sounded so helpless that he felt pity for her and forced himself to reassure her.
“What’s the matter then?” he whispered anxiously, but there was a tremble in his voice. “What’s the matter. He won’t do us any harm!”
Faline simply continued screaming.
“Don’t get so upset, my love. It’s not nice,” Bambi urged her. “It’s ridiculous to always be afraid of these gentlemen. They are relatives of ours, after all.”
But Faline did not want to hear anything about their being relatives. She stood there, very stiff, stared at the stag as he went unbothered on his way, and she screamed and screamed.
“Pull yourself together,” scolded Bambi, “what’s he going to think of us?”
There was nothing that could have calmed Faline down. “He can think what he wants,” she shouted, and went on screaming. “Ah-oh! Ba-oh! ... nobody should ever be as big as that!”
She continued to scream, “Ba-oh!” and went on to say, “Leave me alone ... I can’t help it! I have to! Ba-oh! Ba-oh! Ba-oh!”
The stag was now standing in the little clearing and looking languidly in the grass for something tasty to eat.
As he looked alternately at Faline as she panicked and at the calm and relaxed stag, something rose up in Bambi. The words of comfort he had offered to Faline had also helped him to overcome his own alarm at the sight of the stag. Now he scolded himself for falling into a pitiful state every time he saw the stag; a state where horror, excitement, admiration and inferiority were all mixed together and made him suffer.
“That’s all nonsense,” he decided with much effort, “now I’m going to go right up to him and introduce myself.”
“Don’t do that!” shouted Faline, “don’t do that! Ba-oh! Something terrible will happen, ba-oh!”
“I’m going to do it whatever happens,” Bambi retorted. The stag, so relaxed as he picked out all the best things to eat, paid no attention at all to Faline as she screamed. It seemed to Bambi that he was far too haughty. He felt injured and humiliated. “I’m going out there,” he said. “Just calm down! Nothing’s going to happen, you’ll see. You wait here.”
He actually did go out there. But Faline did not wait. She did not want to wait, not in the slightest, and nor did she have the courage to do so. She swung round and ran away and could still be heard as she got further and further away: “Ba-oh! Ba-oh!”
Bambi would have liked to go after her, but that was no longer really possible. He pulled himself together and went forward.
Through the twigs and branches he could see the stag standing in the clearing, his head lowered to the ground.
Bambi felt his heart thumping as he went out there.
The stag immediately raised his head high and looked over at him. Then, as if confused, he looked straight ahead.
Bambi saw both these movements as very haughty, the way the stag had looked at him and the way he was now occupied with looking straight ahead as if there were nobody there.
Bambi did not know what he should do. He had come out here with the firm intention of speaking to the stag. Good morning, he would have said, my name is Bambi ... may I ask what your name is, sir?
Certainly! He had imagined this as flowing very smoothly, and now it turned out not to be as simple as he had thought. What was the use, here, of having the best intentions? Bambi did not want to seem to be badly brought up, but that is how he would seem if he came out here without saying a word. Nor did he want to impose himself on the stag, but that was what he would be doing if he started speaking.
The stag stood there in indignant majesty. Bambi was alarmed and felt humiliated. He tried in vain to shake himself into doing something and just one thought kept running through his head: Why should I let him frighten me ...? I’m just as good as he is ... just as good as he is!
It did not help. Bambi continued to feel frightened and felt deep in the heart of him that he was not just as good as he is. Not by a long way. He felt pitiful, and he needed all his strength to keep any kind of dignity.
The stag looked at him and thought: He is charming ... truly delightful ... so good looking ... so elegant ... so fine in all his movements. But I’d better not stare at him like this. That would really not be proper. And I might even embarrass him.
And he looked away from Bambi and went back to gazing into the distance.
That haughty look, Bambi decided! It’s unbearable, the way he puffs himself up!
The stag thought: I’d like to talk with him ... he seems so likeable ... it’s so stupid, the way that people never talk to each other! And he continued to occupy himself with gazing thoughtfully into the distance.
I’m just like the air for him, said Bambi, people like that always act as if they were the only people in the world!
But what should I say to him ...? the stag wondered. I’ve never had any practice in this ... I’d say something ridiculous and make a fool of myself ... as I’m sure he’s very clever.
Bambi pulled himself together and looked hard at the stag. He’s so majestic! he thought, still unsure of himself.
Well ... perhaps another time ... the stag finally concluded, and he walked away, unsatisfied but majestic.
Bambi, embittered, stayed where he was.
The forest was steaming under the burning sun. Ever since it had risen it had been drinking all the clouds out of the sky, even the tiniest wisps, and now it reigned alone in the expanse of blue, made pale by the heat. Over the meadows and the treetops the air shimmered in glassy, transparent waves like it does above a flame. Not a leaf moved, not a blade of grass. The birds remained silent, they sat hidden in the shade of the leaves and did not move from the spot. All the paths and lanes through the clearings were empty, as no animal was moving anywhere. The forest lay motionless in the dazzling light, as if in flame. The earth breathed, the trees, the bushes and the animals breathed in the weighty luxury of this heat. Bambi slept.
He had spent a happy night and into the light of morning romping with Faline, it was such bliss that he even forgot to eat. But that was because he had tired himself out so much that he did not even feel any hunger. His eyes fell shut. He had just gone into the middle of the undergrowth where he stopped, laid himself down and fell straight to sleep. The junipers, inflamed by the sun, threw out a bitter-sharp smell, the fine aroma from the young dampness rose into his head and exhilarated him as he slept and gave him new strength.
Suddenly he woke up and felt confused.
Was that not Faline calling out?
Bambi looked around. In his memory he could still see her as she stood here close by the hawthorns and picking off the leaves while he lay down. He had thought she would stay there beside him. But now she was gone, she had probably become tired of being alone and was now calling for him to come and find her.
As Bambi listened he wondered how long he could have been asleep and how many times Faline could have called. He could not work it out. His head was still dull behind the veil of sleep.
Then the call came again. Bambi swung round suddenly to face the direction the sound came from. There it was again! And he was suddenly cheerful. He felt wonderfully refreshed, felt he had rested long enough, felt strengthened, and he felt immensely hungry.
He heard the call again, loud and clear, as fine as gentle birdsong, yearning and tender, “Come ... come.”
Yes, that was her voice! That was Faline! Bambi rushed from where he was with such urgency that the thin twigs on the bushes broke and their hot, green leaves merely rustled.
But while he was jumping he had to stop and throw himself to one side. There stood the elder, blocking his way.
The only thing seething in Bambi was his love. He did not care about the elder any more. He would certainly come across him again sometime. But now he had no time for old gentlemen, however venerable they might be. All he could think of now was Faline.
He made a perfunctory greeting, and wanted to get quickly past him.
“Where are you going?” the elder asked, seriously.
Bambi was slightly ashamed, wondered how he could talk his way out of it, but then he regained his senses and answered honestly, “To her.”
“Don’t go,” said the elder.
For a second, a spark of anger rose up in Bambi, just one. Not go to Faline? How could the elder expect that of him. I’ll just run away, thought Bambi. And he quickly looked at the elder. But the depth of the gaze directed at him from the elder’s dark eyes held him where he was. He shook with impatience, but he did not run away.
“She’s calling for me ...” he said, by way of explanation. He said it in a way that was clearly pleading. “Don’t get in my way!”
“No,” said the elder, “she is not calling for you.”
The sound came again, loud and clear like birdsong, “Come!”
“Again now!” shouted Bambi as he became more cross, “Listen to me!”
“I’m listening,” the elder nodded.
“Goodbye then ...,” Bambi threw at him curtly.
But the elder commanded him, “Stay here!”
“What is it you want then?” shouted Bambi, out of control. “Let me go! I haven’t got time for this! Please ... if Faline is calling for me ... you must be able to see ...”
“I’m telling you,” said the elder, “that is not Faline.”
Bambi was puzzled. “But ... I recognize her voice, I can hear her quite clearly ...”
“Listen to me,” the elder continued.
The call came again.
The ground was burning under Bambi’s feet. “Later! I’ll come back,” he implored.
“No,” said the elder sadly. “You would not come back. Not ever.”
The call came yet again.
“I’ve got to! I’ve got to ...” Bambi was beginning entirely to lose control of himself.
“Alright then,” the elder explained, still in command, “but the two of us will go there together.”
“Quickly!” Bambi declared and ran ahead.
“No ... go slowly!” the elder now commanded in a voice that left Bambi with no choice but to obey. “You stay behind me ... step by step ...”
The elder began to move forward. Bambi followed behind him, impatient and sighing.
“Listen,” said the elder without stopping, “however many times you hear that call do not move from my side. If it is Faline then we’ll find her soon enough. But it’s not Faline. Don’t let it tear you away from me. It all depends on whether you trust me or not.”
Bambi did not dare to contradict him and remained silent.
The elder walked slowly forward and Bambi followed. Oh, how skilled the elder was in knowing how to walk! No sound came from under his hooves. Not a leave moved. No twig cracked. In this way the elder crept through the dense undergrowth, slid his way through the tangle of ancient bushes. Bambi could only be amazed, he had to admire the elder despite his feverish impatience. He had never realized it was possible to go forward in this way.
The call came again and again.
The elder stopped, listened and nodded his head.
Bambi stood near him, shaken with yearning, tortured by what he had to do, and understood nothing.
The elder stopped several times without the call having been heard, he would throw his head up high, listen, and nod. Bambi heard nothing. The elder turned away from the direction the call was coming from, he was going to approach it in a curve. This made Bambi very angry.
The call came over and again.
At last they were getting nearer, nearer still, and then very near.
The elder whispered, “Whatever you see now ... don’t move ... do you hear? Pay attention to everything I do and you do exactly the same ... Be careful! And don’t panic ...!”
A few steps further on ... there came suddenly that sharp, stimulating smell that Bambi knew so well, strong in his nose. It was so strong that he nearly cried out. He stood there as if nailed to the ground. His heart suddenly began to beat so hard he could feel it in his throat.
The elder stood relaxed next to him. He showed the direction with his eyes: There!
But there stood He!
He stood quite close nearby, pressed against the trunk of an oak tree, covered in hazel bushes, and the gentle call could be heard: “Come ... come ...”
All that could be seen was His back, His face was very unclear, and could only be seen at all when He turned His head slightly to one side.
Bambi was so completely confused, so shocked that he only slowly came to understand: He was standing there, it was Him who had been imitating Faline’s voice. It was Him who had been whistling, “Come ... come ...”
A pale horror ran through all of Bambi’s limbs. The thought of flight came up from his heart and pulled at him, tugged at him.
“Keep still!” the elder promptly commanded in a whisper, as if he wanted to pre-empt an outbreak of panic. And Bambi, with some effort, kept control of himself.
The elder looked at him; it seemed to Bambi at first, despite where he was, that the elder was gently mocking him. But then, straight afterwards, he seemed once more to be fully serious and benevolent.
Bambi blinked as he looked over to where He stood, and felt that he would no longer be able to stand being near something as horrifying as this.
The elder seemed to understand what Bambi was thinking and whispered, “Let’s go ...,” as he turned round and left.
They crept carefully away, the elder moving in strange zig-zags, though Bambi could not understand why. Even now he found it hard to contain his impatience as he followed these slow steps. It had been his yearning for Faline that had driven him along the path to this place, but now the urge to flee was chasing through his veins.
The elder, though, continued in his slow walk, then stopped, listened, went on, still on a zig-zag route, stopped again, went on again, slowly, very slowly.
They must, by now, have been well away from that place of terror.
“He keeps on stopping, so I suppose it’ll be alright to start speaking again, and then I’ll say thank-you to him.” He could see the elder just in front of him as he disappeared into a dense tangle of dogwood bushes. Not a leaf moved, not a twig cracked as the elder crept into it.
Bambi followed him and tried very hard to pass through just as silently, just as artfully to avoid making any sound. But he did not have that luck. The leaves rustled gently, branches bent under the pressure of his flank, flicked back again with a loud rattling, dry twigs broke with a quick, loud crack against his breast.
“He saved my life,” Bambi continued to ponder. “What should I say to him?”
But the elder could no longer be seen. Bambi stepped very slowly out of the bushes, saw a wild tangle of goldenrods in front of him, raised his head and looked around. There was not a blade of grass moving for as far as he could see. He was alone.
There was nothing, now, to tell him what to do, and the urge to flee quickly took hold of him. As he rushed through them, the goldenrods were divided with a broad hiss, as if being cut down with a scythe.
It was a long time wandering lost in the forest before he found Faline. He was breathless, he was tired, he was happy and deeply moved.
“Please, my love,” he said, “please ... don’t call to me when we’re apart ... never call to me again ...! We can look for each other until we find one another ... but please, don’t call to me as ... your voice is something I can’t resist.”
A couple of days later, with nothing to worry about, they made their way together through the thicket of oaks that lay on the other side of the meadow. They were about to go across the meadow and there, where the lofty oak tree stood, they would be back on their usual paths. The bushes ahead of them became lighter, and there they stopped and peered out. There, by the oak, there was something red moving.
“Who could that be ...?” whispered Bambi.
“I expect it’s Ronno or Karus,” thought Faline.
Bambi doubted this. “They don’t dare to come near me any more.” Bambi looked more carefully. “No,” he decided, “that isn’t Karus or Ronno ... that’s a stranger ...”
Faline agreed, astonished and very curious. “You’re right, a stranger, I can see that too now ... odd!”
They watched.
“He seems very careless!” called Faline.
“Stupid,” said Bambi, “he is really stupid. He’s behaving like a little child ... as if there weren’t any danger at all!”
“Let’s go over there,” suggest Faline. She was too curious.
“Alright then,” Bambi answered, “let’s go ... I want to get a closer look at this lad ...”
They made a few steps but then Faline hesitated. “But ... what if he wants to fight you ... he’s strong ...”
“Bah!” Bambi lowered his head to one side and had a disdainful look. “Look how small his crown is ... why should I be frightened of that? He’s big and fat ... but strong? I don’t think so. Just come with me ...”
They went. Across the meadow the other deer was busy biting at grass, and did not notice them until they had come quite a long way out onto the meadow. He immediately ran out to meet them. He made joyful, playful jumps and again seemed to be very childlike. Bambi and Faline were puzzled and waited for him. Now he was just a few steps away. Like them, he stood still.
After a little while he asked, “Don’t you recognize me?”
Bambi had lowered his head, ready for combat. “Do you ... know us?” he replied.
The stranger interrupted him. “But Bambi!” he called, full of admonishment but trusting.
Bambi became hesitant when he heard his name being used. The sound of this voice tugged at some kind of memory in his heart, but Faline made no delay and jumped forward to meet the stranger.
“Gobo!” she exclaimed and the she was silent. She stood there without a word, without moving. She had lost her breath completely.
“Faline ...” said Gobo gently, “Faline ... sister ... you recognize me ...” He went to her and kissed her on the mouth. Suddenly the tears began to flow down his cheeks.
Faline cried too, and she was unable to speak.
“But ... Gobo ...” Bambi began. His voice quivered and he was very excited, he was deeply touched and astonished beyond measure. “Gobo ... aren’t you dead?”
Gobo laughed. “You can see, can’t you. I think it’s easy enough to see I’m not dead.”
“But ... that time ... in the snow?” Bambi persisted.
“That time?” Gobo lowered his head bashfully. “That time it was Him who saved me ...”
“And where have you been all this time ...?” asked Faline now, in astonishment.
Gobo answered, “With Him ... I’ve been with Him all this time ...”
He became silent, looked at Faline and Bambi and greatly enjoyed the sight of their helpless astonishment. Then he added, “Yes, my dear friends ... I have had many new experiences ... more than all of you put together here in this forest of yours ...” It sounded a little boastful, but they still did not notice that, they were too taken up with the enormity of their surprise.
“Tell us about them!” exclaimed Faline, unable to control herself.
“Well,” said Gobo complacently, “I could tell you about them all day long and wouldn’t have told you everything.
Bambi insisted. “Go on then, tell us!”
Gobo went over to Faline and became serious. “Is mother still alive?” he asked timidly and quietly.
“Yes!” Faline cheerfully declared. “She’s alive ... I haven’t seen her for a long time though.”
“I want to go and see her, straight away!” said Gobo. “Are you coming with me?”
And off they went.
All along the way they were silent. Bambi and Faline could feel Gobo’s impatient yearning to see his mother, and that’s why neither of them said anything. Gobo strode hurriedly forward and said nothing. They did nothing to stop him.
Except that now and then, when he blindly ran through a place where the paths crossed, always running straight ahead, or when in sudden haste he rushed into another direction they would quietly call to him. “This way!” Bambi would whisper. Or Faline would say, “No ... it goes round here now ...”
A couple times they had to go across broad clearings. They noticed that Gobo never stopped at the edge of the trees, never even glanced around to see that it was safe before he went out into the open. He would simply run out there with no caution at all. Bambi and Faline looked at each other in amazement whenever that happened, but they said nothing and hesitantly followed Gobo.
They had to wander about in this way, searching and going up and down, for a long time.
Gobo suddenly recognized the paths he had used in his childhood. He looked at them in wonder, and it did not occur to him that Bambi and Faline had led him to them. He looked round at them and declared, “What do you think of that? Look how good I was at finding my way here!”
They said nothing. They merely, once more, looked at each other.
Shortly afterwards they came to a small chamber in the foliage. “Here!” called Faline as she slipped into it. Gobo followed her and then stopped. It was the chamber where they both had been born, where they had lived as little children with their mother. Gobo and Faline looked close into each other’s eyes. They said not a word. Faline kissed her brother gently on his lips. Then they hurried on.
They probably spent another hour going up and down. The sun shone more and more brightly through the twigs, the forest became more and more quiet. It was time to lie down and rest. Gobo, though, did not feel tired. He hurried forward, breathed heavily because of his impatient excitement and looked around without any plan. He flinched when a weasel rushed out from the long grass and passed under him. He nearly stepped on the pheasants who were pressed close down to the ground, and when they flew up in front of him with loud flapping of wing and told him off he was very alarmed. Bambi was amazed at how unfamiliar he seemed with everything and how he proceeded as if blind.
Gobo stopped and turned to the two of them. “We can’t find her!” he exclaimed in bewilderment. Faline soothed him. “We will do soon,” she said with emotion. “Not long now, Gobo.” She looked at him. He was once again wearing that disheartened expression that she knew so well.
“Should we call for her?” she said with a grin. “Should we start calling again ... like we used to, when we were still children?”
Bambi continued walking. Just a few steps. And then he caught a glimpse of Auntie Ena. She had already lain down to rest and lay without moving in the shadow of a hazel bush, very near.
“At last!” he said to himself. At that moment Gobo and Faline arrived. All three of them stood beside each other and looked over at Ena. She had quietly raised her head and looked sleepily at them.
Gobo made a few hesitant steps forward and gently called, “Mother!”
As if snatched up by a thunderbolt, Ena was no longer lying down but up on her feet and standing as if cemented into position. Gobo quickly jumped to her. “Mother ...” he began again. He wanted to speak but could not utter a word.
His mother looked closely into his eyes. She began to stand with less stiffness; she was shaking so much that wave after wave ran over her back and shoulders.
She asked no questions, she did not ask for an explanation, not for any account of what had happened. Slowly, she kissed Gobo on his lips, kissed his cheeks, his neck; without cease, she washed him with her kisses, just as she had done when she had given birth to him.
Bambi and Faline had left.
They stood together in the middle of a thicket in a small clearing, and Gobo told them about where he had been.
Their friend the hare sat there too, raised his ears in amazement as he listened tensely and let them sink again in his awe at what he heard, only to raise them again immediately after.
The magpie squatted on the lowest twig of a young beech tree and listened in astonishment. The jay sat uneasily nearby on an ash tree, sometimes screeching in his amazement.
A pair of pheasants they knew had found their way there with their wives and children. They craned their necks in wonderment as they listened, drew them back in, turned their heads here and there and remained speechless.
The squirrel bounded in and moved in a way that showed he was very excited. He soon slipped down the ground, ran up one or other tree, then leant back on his erected tail and showed his white breast. He continually wanted to interrupt Gobo, wanted to say something, but each time all those around him ordered him to be quiet.
He told them about how he had lain helpless in the snow and waited for death.
“It was the dogs who found me,” he said, “those dogs are terrifying. They’re absolutely the most terrifying things in the whole wide world. Their throats are full of blood, their voices are full of anger and without mercy.” He looked round at everyone there and went on. .”.. but, well ... afterwards I played with them as if we were all equal ...” He was very proud of himself. .”.. I don’t need to be scared of them any more because now we’re all good friends. Still though, when they start to get angry there’s a thumping in my head, and my heart gets quite stiff. But they don’t always mean it in such a nasty way and, as I’ve just said, I’m their friend now ... but there’s so much power in their voices it’s horrible.” He became silent.
“Go on then!” Faline insisted.
Gobo looked at her. “Well, back then they would have torn me limb from limb ... but then He came along!”
Gobo paused. The others could scarcely breathe.
“Yes,” said Gobo. “Then He came along! He called the dogs off and they immediately became quite quiet. He called to them again and they lay motionless on the ground in front of Him. Then he lifted me up. I screamed. But he stroked me. He held me gently pressed onto his chest. He didn’t hurt me. And then He carried me off ...”
Faline interrupted him. “What do you mean, ‘carried you’?”
Gobo began to explain, in detail and with some self-importance.
“It’s very easy,” interjected Bambi. “Think of the squirrel, Faline, what he does when he’s holding a nut and carries it away ...”
Now the squirrel wanted a chance to speak at last. .”.. A cousin of mine ...” he began with enthusiasm. But the others immediately insisted, “Be quiet! Be quiet! Let Gobo carry on speaking!”
The squirrel had to say silent. He was cowed and bewildered, pressed his forepaws against his white breast and turned to the magpie to speak just to him. .”.. I was saying ... a cousin of mine ...”
But the magpie simply turned his back on him.
Gobo told them of marvellous things. “It’s cold outside, and the storm is howling. But indoors, with him, there’s no wind and it’s as warm as in summer.”
“Hach!” screeched the jay.
“Outside, the rain is lashing down from the sky so that everything is in water. But indoors, with Him, there’s not a drop of rain and you stay dry.”
The pheasants twitched their necks up high and turned their heads.
“When everywhere outside was deep in snow, I was inside and nice and warm, I was even quite hot, and He gave me hay to eat, chestnuts, potatoes, turnips, everything I could have wished for ...”
“Hay?!” they all asked in one voice, astonished, incredulous, excited.
“Fresh, sweet hay,” Gobo repeated calmly, and looked triumphantly round at them.
The squirrel tried to squeeze in his voice. “A cousin of mine ...”
“Just be quiet!” the others ordered.
And Faline asked Gobo vigorously, “Where did He get hay from, and all those other things, in the winter?”
“He grows it,” answered Gobo. “Whatever he wants, he grows it, and when he wants it it’s there for him!”
Faline continued asking questions. “Weren’t you afraid, Gobo, all the time you were with him?”
Gobo thought himself very clever and grinned. “My dear Faline, I wasn’t afraid, not any more. After all, I knew He didn’t want to do anything to hurt me. Why should I have been afraid? You all think He’s very nasty, but He’s not nasty. When He likes anyone, when anyone does something for Him, He’s nice. Lovely and nice. There’s no-one in the whole wide world who could be as nice as He is ...”
Suddenly, as Gobo was speaking in this way, an elder emerged silently from the bushes.
Gobo did not notice him and continued speaking, but all the others had seen the elder and held their breath in awe of him.
The elder stood there without moving and watched Gobo with deep and serious eyes.
Gobo said, “And it wasn’t just Him, it was His children, they loved me too, and His wife and everyone. They stroked me, gave me food and played with me ...” He broke off. He had seen the elder.
Everyone became silent.
Then the elder, in his calm and authoritative voice, asked, “What’s that stripe on your neck?”
Everyone looked at him and became aware, for the first time, of the dark stripe made up of compressed and eroded hair that went round Gobo’s neck.
Gobo answered the elder uncertainly. “That ...? That’s from the collar I wore ... it’s His collar ... and ... yes, and ... and it’s a great honour to wear his collar ... it’s ...” He became confused and stammered.
All were silent. The elder kept a sad and piercing look on Gobo for a long time.
“You poor thing,” he said gently, then he turned round and was gone.
In the silence that followed from this disturbance the squirrel started to chatter. “You see ... a cousin of mine was there with Him too ... He’d caught him and locked him in ... oh, for a very long time, till one day my cousin ...”
But no-one was listening to the squirrel.
They all went away.