Bambi looked for the elder. He would walk around all through the
nights, wandered about at the time the sun rose and when the morning
sky was red, all along uncharted ways, without Faline.
There were times when he still felt an urge to go to her, sometimes he
was still as happy to be with her as he had been before, he found it
beautiful to walk about with her, to hear her chatting, to have a meal
with her at the edge of a thicket; but now these were things that did
not satisfy him as much as they had done.
Before, it was rare for him to think of the elder when he was with
Faline, and even then it was only fleetingly. Now he was out searching
for the elder, he felt an inexplicable yearning to see him and
remembered about Faline only once. He could always find her whenever
he wanted her. He felt little urge to be together with the others
though, Gobo or Auntie Ena. He avoided them whenever he could.
Bambi was unable to stop thinking about the phrase that the elder had
used about Gobo. He had been remarkably struck by it. From the first
day that he had come back Gobo’s reappearance had seriously disturbed
him. Bambi did not know why, but when Gobo looked at him it
immediately seemed to make him suffer. Bambi was ashamed of Gobo but
did not know why; he was worried about him without knowing why. But
now, whenever he was with the incautious, self conscious, complacent
and haughty Gobo, that phrase came to his mind: You poor thing! He
could not get it out of his head.
But one dark night, in which Bambi had once again assured the owlet,
just to please him, that he had been dreadfully startled by him, it
suddenly occurred to Bambi to ask where the elder might be.
The owlet replied, in his cooing voice, that he did not have the
slightest idea. But Bambi could see that he did not really want to
say.
“No,” he said, “I don’t believe you. You’re so clever, you know about
everything that goes on in the forest. I’m sure you know where the
elder is hiding.”
The owlet went back down into a nice, soft, grey-brown ball, turned
his big, clever, eyes a little, as he always did when he felt like it
and asked, “Well then, do you really have such respect for me? Why’s
that then?”
Bambi did not hesitate. “Because you’re so wise,” he said candidly,
“and despite that, you’re such fun and so friendly. And because you
can frighten others so well. That’s so clever to startle others, so
very clever. I wish I could do that, that would be very useful for
me.”
The owlet had sunk his beak deep into his breast feathers and was
pleased.
“Well,” he said, “I know that the elder likes your company ...”
“Do you think so?” exclaimed Bambi as the owlet spoke, and his heart
began to beat with joy.
“Yes, I’m sure of it,” answered the owlet, “he likes your company, and
that’s why I think I might dare to tell you where he is now ...” He
pulled his feathers down against his body and suddenly looked quite
thin again. “Do you know that deep gorge where the willows are?”
“Yes,” Bambi nodded.
“Do you know the thicket of oak trees on the other side?”
“No,” Bambi admitted, “I’ve never been on the other side.”
“Now listen carefully,” the owlet whispered, on the other side there’s
a thicket of oak trees. You have to go through there and you come to
an area of bushes, hazel and white poplars, hawthorns and privet. In
the middle, there, you’ll need to find an old beech tree that’s been
broken down by the wind. It won’t be as easy for you to find down
there on the ground, certainly not as easy as it is from up in the
air. That’s where the elder lives. Under the trunk of that tree. But
... don’t say I told you!”
“Under the trunk?”
“Yes!” the owlet laughed. “There’s a dip in the ground there. The
hollow trunk lies over it. That’s where he is.”
“Thank you,” said Bambi with enthusiasm. “I don’t know whether I’ll be
able to find him, but thank you a thousand times.”
He hurried away.
Making no sound, the owlet flew along behind him and close above him
he began to screech. “U-y? Uiy!”
Bambi was startled.
“Did I shock you?” the owlet asked.
“Yes ...,” he stuttered and this time he was telling the truth.
The owlet felt satisfied with himself and cooed, “I just wanted to
remind you – don’t say I told you!”
“Of course I won’t!” Bambi assured him and he ran off. When he reached
the gorge the elder emerged from the darkness of chamber right in
front of him, so silently and so suddenly that Bambi was greatly
startled once again.
“I’m not there any more, where you hope to find me,” the elder said.
Bambi said nothing.
“What do you want from me?” the elder asked.
“Nothing ...” stuttered Bambi, “oh ... nothing ... do forgive me...”
After a pause the elder said gently, “It wasn’t just today that you
started looking for me.”
He waited. Bambi said nothing. The elder continued, “you passed quite
close to me twice yesterday, and twice this morning too, very
close...”
“Why ...” Bambi gathered up his courage, “why did you say that about
Gobo ...?”
“Do you think I was mistaken?”
“No,” Bambi declared with a passion, “no! I think you must be right!”
The elder nodded very slightly, and his eyes looked at Bambi with more
benevolence than ever before.
Bambi said to these eyes, “But ... why? ... I can’t understand it!”
“It’s enough that you think so. You’ll understand it later.
Farewell!”