Everybody soon saw that Gobo had habits which seemed strange and
suspicious to the rest of them. He slept at night when the others were
awake. But in the daytime, when the rest of them were looking for places
to sleep in, he was wide awake and went walking. When he felt like it he
would even go out of the thicket without any hesitation and stand with
perfect peace of mind in the bright sunshine on the meadow.
[Illustration: _Gobo would stand with perfect peace of mind in the
bright sunshine on the meadow._]
Bambi found it impossible to keep silent any longer. “Don’t you ever
think of the danger?” he asked.
“No,” Gobo said simply, “there isn’t any for me.”
“You forget, my dear Bambi,” Gobo’s mother broke in, “you forget that
He’s a friend of Gobo’s. Gobo can take chances that the rest of you
cannot take.” She was very proud.
Bambi did not say anything more.
One day Gobo said to him, “You know, it seems strange to me to eat when
and where I like.”
Bambi did not understand. “Why is it strange, we all do it,” he said.
“O, you do,” said Gobo superiorly, “but I’m a little different. I’m
accustomed to having my food brought to me or to being called when it’s
ready.”
Bambi stared pityingly at Gobo. He looked at Faline and Marena and Aunt
Ena. But they were all smiling and admiring Gobo.
“I think it will be hard for you to get accustomed to the winter, Gobo,”
Faline began, “we don’t have hay or turnips or potatoes in the winter
time.”
“That’s true,” answered Gobo reflectively, “I hadn’t thought about that
yet. I can’t even imagine how it would feel. It must be dreadful.”
Bambi said quietly, “It isn’t dreadful. It’s only hard.”
“Well,” Gobo declared grandly, “if it gets too hard for me I’ll simply
go back to Him. Why should I go hungry? There’s no need for that.”
Bambi turned away without a word and walked off.
When Gobo was alone again with Marena he began to talk about Bambi. “He
doesn’t understand me,” he said. “Poor old Bambi thinks I’m still the
silly little Gobo that I once was. He can never get used to the fact
that I’ve become something unusual. Danger!... What does he mean by
danger? He means well enough by me, but danger is something for him and
the likes of him, not for me.”
Marena agreed with him. She loved him and Gobo loved her and they were
both very happy.
“Well,” he said to her, “nobody understands me the way you do. But
anyhow I can’t complain. I’m respected and honored by everybody. But you
understand me best of all. When I tell the others how good He is, they
listen and they don’t think I’m lying, but they stick to their opinion
that He’s dreadful.”
“I’ve always believed in Him,” said Marena dreamily.
“Really?” Gobo replied airily.
“Do you remember the day when they left you lying in the snow?” Marena
went on. “I said that day that sometime He’d come to the forest to play
with us.”
“No,” Gobo replied yawning, “I don’t remember that.”
A few weeks passed, and one morning Bambi and Faline, Gobo and Marena
were standing together again in the old familiar hazel thicket. Bambi
and Faline were just returning from their wanderings, intending to look
for their hiding place when they met Gobo and Marena. Gobo was about to
go out on the meadow.
“Stay with us instead,” said Bambi, “the sun will soon be rising and
then nobody will go out in the open.”
“Nonsense,” said Gobo, scornfully, “if nobody else will go, I will.”
He went on, Marena following him.
Bambi and Faline had stopped. “Come along,” said Bambi angrily to
Faline, “come along. Let him do what he pleases.”
They were going on, but suddenly the jay screamed loudly from the far
side of the meadow. With a bound Bambi had turned and was running after
Gobo. Right by the oak he caught up with him and Marena.
“Did you hear that?” he cried to him.
“What?” asked Gobo puzzled.
Again the jay screamed on the far side of the meadow.
“Did you hear that?” Bambi repeated.
“No,” said Gobo calmly.
“That means danger,” Bambi persisted.
A magpie began to chatter loudly and, immediately after her, another and
then a third. Then the jay screamed again and far overhead the crows
gave warning.
Faline began to plead. “Don’t go out there, Gobo! It’s dangerous.”
Even Marena begged, “Stay here. Stay here to-day, beloved one. It’s
dangerous.”
Gobo stood there, smiling in his superior way. “Dangerous! dangerous!
What has that to do with me?” he asked.
His pressing need gave Bambi an idea. “At least let Marena go first,” he
said, “so we can find out....”
He hadn’t finished before Marena had slipped out.
All three stood and looked at her, Bambi and Faline breathlessly, Gobo
with obvious patience, as if to let the others enjoy their foolish
whims.
They saw how Marena walked across the meadow step by step, with hesitant
feet, her head up. She peered and snuffed in all directions. Suddenly
she turned like a flash with one high bound and, as though a cyclone had
struck her, rushed back into the thicket.
“It’s He, He,” she whispered, her voice choking with terror. She was
trembling in every limb. “I, I saw Him,” she stammered, “it’s He. He’s
standing over by the alders.”
“Come,” cried Bambi, “come quickly.”
“Come,” Faline pleaded. And Marena who could hardly speak whispered,
“Please come now, Gobo, please.”
But Gobo remained unmoved. “Run as much as you like,” he said, “I won’t
stop you. If He’s there I want to talk with Him.”
Gobo could not be dissuaded.
They stood and watched how he went out. They stayed there, moved by his
great confidence, while at the same time a terrible fear for him gripped
them.
Gobo was standing boldly on the meadow looking around for the alders.
Then he seemed to see them and to have discovered Him. Then the thunder
crashed.
Gobo leaped into the air at the report. He suddenly turned around and
fled back to the thicket, staggering as he came.
They still stood there, petrified with terror, while he came on. They
heard him gasping for breath. And as he did not stop but bounded wildly
forward, they turned and surrounded him and all took flight.
But poor Gobo dropped to the ground. Marena stopped close to him, Bambi
and Faline a little farther off, ready to flee.
Gobo lay with his bloody entrails oozing from his torn flank. He lifted
his head with a feeble twisting motion.
“Marena,” he said with an effort, “Marena....” He did not recognize
her. His voice failed.
There was a loud careless rustling in the bushes by the meadow. Marena
bent her head towards Gobo. “He’s coming,” she whispered frantically,
“Gobo, He’s coming! Can’t you get up and come with me?”
Gobo lifted his head again feebly with a writhing motion, beat
convulsively with his hoofs and then lay still.
With a crackling, snapping and rustling He parted the bushes and stepped
out.
Marena saw Him from quite near. She slunk slowly back, disappearing
through the nearest bushes, and hastened to Bambi and Faline.
She looked back once again and saw how He was bending over and seizing
the wounded deer.
Then they heard Gobo’s wailing death shriek.