There came a break in the cold and a pause in the middle of
winter. The Earth drank in the melting snow in great draughts, so that
broad stretches of naked earth could be seen everywhere. The
blackbirds were not singing yet but when they flew up from the ground
where they had been hunting for worms, or when they flapped from tree
to tree, they let out a long, shrill, cheerful cry which was almost
like birdsong. The woodpecker began to laugh here and there, magpies
and crows became more chatty, the tits talked gaily with each other,
and the pheasants, when they had swung down from the trees where they
had been sleeping, now remained in one spot for almost as long as they
would in the good times, they would shake their plumage in the morning
sunshine and continually burst out with their metallic cry.
On mornings like this Bambi would range out further afield than he
normally would. When the sun had barely risen he arrived at his
chamber under the beech tree. Over on the other side, there where he
had used to live, there was something moving. Bambi remained hidden in
the undergrowth and watched. He was right, someone of his own species
was moving about there, seeking out the patches that were free of snow
and setting about the early-risen grasses.
At first, Bambi wanted to turn round and go away, but then he saw that
it was Faline. His first urge was to jump forward and call to her. But
he stayed where he was as if rooted to the spot. It was so long since
he had last seen Faline. His heart began to beat hotly. Faline was
walking slowly, as if she were tired or sad. She looked like her
mother now, looked like Aunt Ena, and when Bambi noticed this it was
with painful astonishment.
Faline raised her head and looked in his direction, as if she could
feel that he was near.
Again, Bambi felt the urge to go toward her, but, again, he stayed
where he was, powerless and lame, he was unable to move.
He saw that Faline had become old and grey.
Gay and audacious little Faline, he thought, she used to be so
beautiful, so nimble. His entire childhood suddenly shimmered up in
him. The meadow, the paths his mother led him along, the happy games
with Gobo and Faline, the good grasshopper and the butterfly, the
struggle with Karus and Ronno by which he had won Faline for
himself. He suddenly felt happy again, but nonetheless shaken.
Over there, Faline was walking away with her head sunk down to the
ground, slow, tired and sad. At that moment Bambi loved her with a
gush of tender pity, he wanted to cross through the hole under the
beech trunk, which for so long had separated him from her and from the
others, wanted to fetch her back, to talk to her about the time when
they had been children, above all to talk about the past.
As he thought this he watched her as she went on through the bare
bushes and finally disappeared from sight.
He stood there for a long time, looking in her direction.
A clap of thunder crashed. Bambi was startled.
That was here, on this side of the hole. Not very close, but here, on
the side where he was.
Another crash of thunder came, and then another.
Bambi made a few steps deeper back into the thicket, where he kept
still and listened. Everything was quiet. He crept carefully home.
The elder was already there, but had not gone down into their chamber,
he just stood next to the fallen beech trunk as if he had been
waiting.
“Where have you been all this time?” he asked, and he was so serious
that Bambi remained silent. “Did you hear that, just now?” the elder
went on after a pause.
“Yes,” Bambi answered. “Three times. He’s in the forest.”
“Clearly ...,” the elder nodded, and he repeated, with a strange
inflexion, “He is in the forest ... we need to go.”
“Where?” Bambi could not stop himself from asking.
“Over there,” said the elder, and his voice was heavy. “Over there
where He is now.”
Bambi was alarmed.
“Don’t be frightened,” the elder went on. “Come with me now and don’t
be afraid. I’m glad I’ve got the chance to take you there and let you
see it ...” He hesitated and gently added, “before I go.”
Bambi was taken aback at this and stared at the elder. He suddenly
became aware of how frail he looked; his head was now entirely white,
his face had become very gaunt, his beautiful eyes had lost their
sparkle, they had taken on a dull green appearance and seemed to be
somehow broken.
Bambi and the elder did not go far, they could feel the first winds of
a heavy storm blowing at them, a storm that was capable of putting so
much threat and dread into their hearts.
Bambi stopped, but the elder carried on walking, directly towards the
storm. Bambi hesitantly followed behind him.
The scent of the storm came at them in ever stronger waves and drew
them forward. The elder went straight on. Thoughts of flight had
sprung into Bambi, he could feel tension in his breast which boiled
through his head and all his limbs. They nearly tore him away from the
place. He stayed strong and continued to walk behind the elder.
Now this malevolent storm had swollen up into something so mighty that
there was nothing else it was possible to feel, and so that it was now
barely possible to breathe.
“There!” said the elder, and he stepped to one side.
Two steps away from them, He lay there on the ground on bent and
broken bushes and in churned up snow.
Bambi half-suppressed a scream of horror, and with a sudden jump he
fled, as he had already been wishing to do . He was nearly out of his
senses in terror.
“Stop!” he heard the elder call. He looked back and saw that the elder
was calmly standing there where He was lying on the ground. Beside
himself in astonishment, Bambi stepped closer, compelled by his
obedience, by his boundless curiosity, by his quaking anticipation.
“Come closer ... don’t be afraid,” the elder said.
There He lay, his pale uncovered face looking upwards, His hat a
little to the side of him in the snow, and Bambi, who knew nothing
about hats, thought that that awful head had been struck into two
pieces.
The hunter’s neck was exposed and showed a wound as if it had been cut
through. It lay open like a little red mouth. There was still a gentle
flow of blood from it, blood was in His hair, under His nose, and had
formed a large pool in the snow, melting it with its warmth.
“Here we are then,” the elder quietly began, “we’re standing right
beside Him ... and where’s the danger now?”
Bambi looked down at Him as he lay there, His form, His limbs, His
hair all seemed to Bambi to be something gruesome but puzzling. He
looked into those broken eyes that stared sightlessly back up at him,
and he did not understand.
“Bambi,” the elder continued, “do you remember what Gobo said, what
the dog said, about what everyone believed ... do you remember?”
Bambi was incapable of giving an answer.
“You can see him there, Bambi,” the elder went on, “you can see Him
lying there like any one of us. Listen to me, Bambi, He is not
almighty like they say he is. He is not the source from which
everything comes, everything that grows and lives. He is not our
superior! He is beside us, He is like us, and just like us He knows
fear and need and sorrow. He can be overcome just like us and now He
lies helpless on the ground, just like the rest of us, just as you see
Him now.”
They remained silent.
“Do you understand me, Bambi?” the elder asked.
Bambi answered in a whisper, “I think ...”
“Tell me what you think, then!” the elder ordered him.
Bambi blushed and quaked and said, “There’s someone else who is above
all of us, ... above us and above Him.”
“The time has come, then, when I can go,” the elder said.
He turned round and the two of them wandered on for a little while.
At a tall ash tree the elder stopped. “Don’t come with me any more,
Bambi,” he began, in a calm voice, “my time is up. Now I need to find
a place for the end ...”
Bambi was about to say something.
“No,” the elder stopped him. “No ... at the time I am now approaching
each of us is alone. Fare well, my son ... I have loved you very
much.”
The summer’s day started being hot as soon as the sun had risen, no
wind, no chill of twilight. The sun seemed to be in more of a hurry
that day. It rose quickly into the sky and broke out its dazzling
flames like a dreadful blaze.
The dew on the meadow and on the bushes quickly evaporated; the earth
became very dry and crumbly. In the woods it became quiet before its
usual time. Only the woodpecker could be heard laughing here and
there, and only the pigeons cooed in tireless, fervent tenderness.
Deep in a thicket there was a little, hidden clearing, giving a little
free space, and that is where Bambi was standing. Around his head a
swarm of midges danced and sang in the sunshine. From the leaves of
the hazel bush beside him came a quiet buzzing, it came closer, and a
big cockchafer flew slowly past him, straight through the swarm of
midges, higher and higher up to the top of a tree where he intended to
sleep until evening. His elegant wing covers stuck out from him and
his wings were bursting with power.
“Did you see him ...?” the midges asked each other. “That’s the
elder,” said one of them. And the others sang, “All of his relatives
are already dead, but he’s still alive.”
A couple of very small midges asked, “How long do you think he’s going
to live?” The others sang their answer, “We don’t know. He’s outlived
all of his family ... he’s very old ... very old.”
Bambi walked on. The song of midges, he thought, song of midges ... A
tender, anxious call came through to him. The voice of somebody of his
own species. “Mother! ... mother!”
Before they understood what was happening, Bambi was standing there
before them. Speechless, they stared at him. “Your mother does not
have the time now,” Bambi told them sternly. He looked in the little
one’s eye. “Can’t you be by yourself for a while?”
The little one and his sister remained silent.
Bambi turned away, slipped into the nearest bush and disappeared, even
before two of them could understand what had happened. He walked
on. “I like that lad ...” he thought. “Maybe I’ll meet him again when
he’s a bit bigger ...” He walked on. “And the little lass,” he
thought,” she’s nice too ... that’s what Faline looked like when she
was a child.”
He walked on and disappeared into the woods.