One evening Bambi was roaming about the meadow again with his mother. He
thought that he knew everything there was to see or hear there. But in
reality it appeared that he did not know as much as he thought.
This time was just like the first. Bambi played tag with his mother. He
ran around in circles, and the open space, the deep sky, the fresh air
intoxicated him so that he grew perfectly wild. After a while he noticed
that his mother was standing still. He stopped short in the middle of a
leap so suddenly that his four legs spread far apart. To get his balance
he bounded high into the air and then stood erect. His mother seemed to
be talking to someone he couldn’t make out through the tall grasses.
Bambi toddled up inquisitively.
Two long ears were moving in the tangled grass stems close to his
mother. They were grayish-brown and prettily marked with black stripes.
Bambi stopped, but his mother said, “Come here. This is our friend, the
Hare. Come here like a nice boy and let him see you.”
Bambi went over. There sat the Hare looking like a very honest creature.
At times his long spoon-like ears stood bolt upright. At others they
fell back limply as though they had suddenly grown weak. Bambi became
somewhat critical as he looked at the whiskers that stood out so stiff
and straight on both sides of the Hare’s mouth. But he noticed that the
Hare had a very mild face and extremely good-natured features, and that
he cast timid glances at the world from out of his big round eyes. The
Hare really did look friendly. Bambi’s passing doubts vanished
immediately. But oddly enough, he had lost all the respect he originally
felt for the Hare.
[Illustration: _There sat the Hare looking like a very honest
creature._]
“Good evening, young man,” the Hare greeted him, with studied
politeness.
Bambi merely nodded good evening. He didn’t understand why, but he
simply nodded. He was very friendly and civil, but a little
condescending. He could not help it himself. Perhaps he was born that
way.
“What a charming young prince,” said the Hare to Bambi’s mother. He
looked at Bambi attentively, raising first one spoon-like ear, then the
other, and then both of them, and letting them fall again, suddenly and
limply, which didn’t please Bambi. The motion of the Hare’s ears seemed
to say, “He isn’t worth bothering with.”
Meanwhile the Hare continued to study Bambi with his big round eyes. His
nose and his mouth with the handsome whiskers moved incessantly in the
same way a man who is trying not to sneeze twitches his nose and lips.
Bambi had to laugh.
The Hare laughed quickly, too, but his eyes grew more thoughtful. “I
congratulate you,” he said to Bambi’s mother. “I sincerely congratulate
you on your son. Yes, indeed, he’ll make a splendid prince in time.
Anyone can see that.”
To Bambi’s boundless surprise he suddenly sat straight on his hind legs.
After he had spied all around with his ears stiffened and his nose
constantly twitching, he sat down decently on all fours again. “Now if
you good people will excuse me,” he said at last, “I have all kinds of
things to do to-night. If you’ll be so good as to excuse me....” He
turned away and hopped off with his ears back so that they touched his
shoulders.
“Good evening,” Bambi called after him.
His mother smiled. “The good Hare,” she said; “he is so suave and
prudent. He doesn’t have an easy time of it in this world.” There was
sympathy in her voice.
Bambi strolled about a little and left his mother to her meal. He wanted
to meet his friend again and he wanted to make new acquaintances,
besides. For without being very clear himself what it was he wanted, he
felt a certain expectancy. Suddenly, at a distance, he heard a soft
rustling on the meadow, and felt a quick, gentle step tapping the
ground. He peered ahead of him. Over on the edge of the woods something
was gliding through the grasses. Was it alive? No, there were two
things. Bambi cast a quick glance at his mother but she wasn’t paying
attention to anything and had her head deep in the grass. But the game
was going on on the other side of the meadow in a shifting circle
exactly as Bambi himself had raced around before. Bambi was so excited
that he sprang back as if he wanted to run away. Then his mother noticed
him and raised her head.
“What’s the matter?” she called.
But Bambi was speechless. He could not find his tongue and only
stammered, “Look over there.”
His mother looked over. “I see,” she said, “that’s my sister, and sure
enough she has a baby too, now. No, she has two of them.” His mother
spoke at first out of pure happiness, but she had grown serious. “To
think that Ena has two babies,” she said, “two of them.”
Bambi stood gazing across the meadow. He saw a creature that looked just
like his mother. He hadn’t even noticed her before. He saw that the
grasses were being shaken in a double circle, but only a pair of reddish
backs were visible like thin red streaks.
“Come,” his mother said, “we’ll go over. They’ll be company for you.”
Bambi would have run, but as his mother walked slowly, peering to right
and to left at every step, he held himself back. Still, he was bursting
with excitement and very impatient.
“I thought we would meet Ena sometime,” his mother went on to say.
“Where can she have been keeping herself? I thought I knew she had one
child, that wasn’t hard to guess. But two of them!...”
At last the others saw them and came to meet them. Bambi had to greet
his aunt, but his mind was entirely on the children.
His aunt was very friendly. “Well,” she said to him, “this is Gobo and
that is Faline. Now you run along and play together.”
The children stood stock-still and stared at each other, Gobo close
beside Faline and Bambi in front of him. None of them stirred. They
stood and gaped.
“Run along,” said Bambi’s mother, “you’ll soon be friends.”
“What a lovely child,” Aunt Ena replied. “He is really lovely. So
strong, and he stands so well.”
“O well,” said his mother modestly, “we have to be content. But to have
two of them, Ena!...”
“O yes, that’s all very well,” Ena declared; “you know, dear, I’ve had
children before.”
“Bambi is my first,” his mother said.
“We’ll see,” Ena comforted her, “perhaps it will be different with you
next time, too.”
The children were still standing and staring at each other. No one said
a word. Suddenly Faline gave a leap and rushed away. It had become too
much for her.
In a moment Bambi darted after her. Gobo followed him. They flew around
in a semi-circle, they turned tail and fell over each other. Then they
chased each other up and down. It was glorious. When they stopped, all
topsy-turvy and somewhat breathless, they were already good friends.
They began to chatter.
Bambi told them how he talked to the nice grasshopper and the butterfly.
“Did you ever talk to the gold bug?” asked Faline.
No, Bambi had never talked to the gold bug. He did not even know who he
was.
“I’ve talked to him often,” Faline declared, a little pertly.
“The jay insulted me,” said Bambi.
“Really,” said Gobo astonished, “did the jay treat you like that?” Gobo
was very easily astonished and was extremely timid.
“Well,” he observed, “the hedgehog stuck me in the nose.” But he only
mentioned it in passing.
“Who is the hedgehog?” Bambi asked eagerly. It seemed wonderful to him
to be there with friends, listening to so many exciting things.
“The hedgehog is a terrible creature,” cried Faline, “full of long
spines all over his body and very wicked!”
“Do you really think he’s wicked?” asked Gobo. “He never hurts anybody.”
“Is that so?” answered Faline quickly. “Didn’t he stick you?”
“O, that was only because I wanted to speak to him,” Gobo replied, “and
only a little anyhow. It didn’t hurt me much.”
Bambi turned to Gobo. “Why didn’t he want you to talk to him?” he asked.
“He doesn’t talk to anybody,” Faline interrupted, “even if you just come
where he is he rolls himself up so he’s nothing but prickles all over.
Our mother says he’s one of those people who don’t want to have anything
to do with the world.”
“Maybe he’s only afraid,” Gobo said.
But Faline knew better. “Mother says you shouldn’t meddle with such
people,” she said.
Presently Bambi began to ask Gobo softly, “Do you know what ‘danger’
means?”
Then they both grew serious and all three heads drew together. Gobo
thought a while. He made a special effort to remember for he saw how
curious Bambi was for the answer. “Danger,” he whispered, “is something
very bad.”
“Yes,” Bambi declared excitedly, “I know it’s something very bad, but
what?” All three trembled with fear.
Suddenly Faline cried out loudly and joyfully, “I know what danger
is—it’s what you run away from.” She sprang away. She couldn’t bear to
stay there any longer and be frightened. In an instant, Bambi and Gobo
had bounded after her. They began to play again. They tumbled in the
rustling, silky green meadow grass, and in a twinkling had forgotten all
about the absorbing question. After a while they stopped and stood
chattering together as before. They looked towards their mothers. They
were standing close together, eating a little and carrying on a quiet
conversation.
Aunt Ena raised her head and called the children. “Come, Gobo. Come,
Faline. We have to go now.”
And Bambi’s mother said to him, “Come, it’s time to go.”
“Wait just a little longer,” Faline pleaded eagerly, “just a little
while.”
“Let’s stay a little longer, please,” Bambi pleaded, “it’s so nice.” And
Gobo repeated timidly, “It’s so nice, just a little longer.” All three
spoke at once.
Ena looked at Bambi’s mother. “What did I tell you,” she said, “they
won’t want to separate now.”
Then something happened that was much more exciting than everything else
that happened to Bambi that day. Out of the woods came the sound of
hoofs beating the earth. Branches snapped, the boughs rustled, and
before Bambi had time to listen, something burst out of the thicket.
Someone came crashing and rustling with someone else rushing after him.
They tore by like the wind, described a wide circle on the meadow and
vanished into the woods again, where they could be heard galloping. Then
they came bursting out of the thicket again and suddenly stood still,
about twenty paces apart.
Bambi looked at them and did not stir. They looked like his mother and
Aunt Ena. But their heads were crowned with gleaming antlers covered
with brown beads and bright white prongs. Bambi was completely overcome.
He looked from one to the other. One was smaller and his antlers
narrower. But the other one was stately and beautiful. He carried his
head up and his antlers rose high above it. They flashed from dark to
light, adorned with the splendor of many black and brown prongs.
“O,” cried Faline in admiration. “O,” Gobo repeated softly. But Bambi
said nothing. He was entranced and silent. Then they both moved and,
turning away from each other, walked slowly back into the woods in
opposite directions. The stately stag passed close to the children and
Bambi’s mother and Aunt Ena. He passed by in silent splendor, holding
his noble head royally high and honoring no one with so much as a
glance.
The children did not dare to breathe till he had disappeared into the
thicket. They turned to look after the other one, but at that very
moment the green door of the forest closed on him.
Faline was the first to break the silence. “Who were they?” she cried.
But her pert little voice trembled.
“Who were they?” Gobo repeated in a hardly audible voice. Bambi kept
silent.
Aunt Ena said solemnly, “Those were your fathers.”
Nothing more was said, and they parted. Aunt Ena led her children into
the nearest thicket. It was her trail. Bambi and his mother had to cross
the whole meadow to the oak in order to reach their own path. He was
silent for a long time before he finally asked, “Didn’t they see us?”
His mother understood what he meant and replied, “Of course, they saw
all of us.”
Bambi was troubled. He felt shy about asking questions, but it was too
much for him. “Then why ...” he began, and stopped.
His mother helped him along. “What is it you want to know, son?” she
asked.
“Why didn’t they stay with us?”
“They don’t ever stay with us,” his mother answered, “only at times.”
Bambi continued, “But why didn’t they speak to us?”
His mother said, “They don’t speak to us now; only at times. We have to
wait till they come to us. And we have to wait for them to speak to us.
They do it whenever they like.”
With a troubled heart, Bambi asked, “Will my father speak to me?”
“Of course he will,” his mother promised. “When you’re grown up he’ll
speak to you, and you’ll have to stay with him sometimes.”
Bambi walked silently beside his mother, his whole mind filled with his
father’s appearance. “How handsome he is!” he thought over and over
again. “How handsome he is!”
As though his mother could read his thoughts, she said, “If you live, my
son, if you are cunning and don’t run into danger, you’ll be as strong
and handsome as your father is sometime, and you’ll have antlers like
his, too.”
Bambi breathed deeply. His heart swelled with joy and expectancy.