time went by and bambi went through many new experiences. it sometimes even made him dizzy having so many things to learn.
now he knows how to listen. not just hear what is happening nearby, so close that it forces itself into your ears. no, there is certainly no art in that. now he can listen properly and with understanding to anything that happens however gently it moves, he can listen to every fine rustling that the wind brings in. he knows, for instance, when there is a pheasant running through the undergrowth; he recognizes quite exactly that gentle scurrying that continually stops and then starts again. he can even recognize the mice in the woods from the sound they make as they run to and fro, from the little journeys they make. then there are the moles who rush round in circles making a rustling noise under the elder bushes when they’re in a good mood. he knows the brash, clear call of the falcons and listens to it as it changes to an angry tone when a hawk or an eagle comes close; that makes them cross because they fear their territory might be taken from them. he knows the sound of the woodland pigeons as they flap their wings, the lovely, distant swish of the ducks as they flap their wings, and many other sounds.
he is slowly learning to understand things by his sense of smell. he will soon understand them as well as his mother. he can understand what he is smelling as soon as he draws in a breath. oh, that’s clover and that’s rowan, he thinks when the wind is blowing in from the meadow, and he can smell when his friend, the hare, is outdoors; i can tell that very well. also, in among all the smells of leaves, soil, herbs and wild onions, he can tell when the polecat is going past, by putting his nose to the ground and testing it thoroughly he can tell that the fox has been there, he might notice that somewhere nearby there are his relatives, auntie ena with the children.
he is now completely at ease with the night and he no longer feels such a great longing to go and run about in the light of the day. now, he is happy to spend his days lying in the little, shady space in the undergrowth with his mother. he hears the heat of the air, and he sleeps. now and then he wakes up and listens and smells, which is the proper thing to do. everything is as it should be. there are only the little tits who would sometimes chatter with each other, the midges in the grass – who are almost never able to stay quiet-talk among themselves, and the wood pigeons never stop proclaiming their gentleness, and do so with enthusiasm. what does all that matter to bambi? he goes back to sleep.
now he is very fond of the night. everything is gay, everything is moving. you also, of course, have to be careful in the night time, but you have less to worry about and you can go anywhere you want to. and everywhere you go you come across people you know, and they too will be more carefree than they are at other times. in the night the forest is solemn and silent. there are voices to heard but just a few of them and in all this stillness they seem loud, and they sound different from the daytime voices and they have more effect. bambi enjoyed hearing the owl. she is so dignified as she flies, perfectly silent, perfectly effortless. a butterfly is quiet just because of her size, but the owl is so immense. and her face is so imposing, so determined, full of so much thought, her eyes are so majestic. bambi admires her firm gaze with its quiet courage. he enjoys listening when she talked with his mother one time, or with anyone else. he stands slightly to one side, a little afraid of that imperious gaze he admires so much, he does not understand much of the clever things she says, but he does know that they are clever, and that enchants him, fills him with admiration for the owl. the the owl begins her song. haa-ah - - hahaha - - haa-ah! she sings. it sounds different from the song of the thrush or the golden oriole, different from the friendly motif of the cuckoo, but bambi loves the song of the owl because he feels a secretive earnestness in it, an indescribable cleverness and a mysterious melancholy. then the tawny owl is there again, a charming little lad. dignified, faithful and more inquisitive than most, he always wants to stir up a fuss. uy-iik! uy-iik! he calls, in a voice that is shrill, terrifying and very piercing. it sounds as if his life were in danger. but he is a cheerful character and it delights him when he startles someone. uy-iik! he shouts, so loudly that it alarms anyone in the wood within half an hour’s distance. but then he has a gentle cooing laugh, just for himself, and you can only hear if you are right next to him. bambi had realized that the tawny owl is pleased when he startles somebody or if somebody thinks something awful has happened to him, and ever since, whenever the tawny owl is nearby, he rushes to him and asks, “has something happened to you?,” or he might sigh and say, “oh, you really startled me!” then the owl feels very satisfied. “yes, yes,” he says with a laugh, “it’s quite a distressing sound, isn’t it.” he puffs up his feathers so that he looks like a soft, grey ball, and looks very charming.
a couple of times there was even thunder and lightning, both day and night. the first time it was by day and bambi felt how he became afraid when, in his leafy bedroom in the woods, it became darker and darker. it seemed to him that the night had fallen down from the sky in the middle of the day. then, as the storm roared its way through the woods so that the mute trees began to groan loudly, bambi shook with fear. and as the lightning lit up the sky and the thunder roared, bambi went mad with the horror of it and thought the world was about to be torn to pieces. he ran behind his mother, who was slightly unsettled, had jumped to her feet and was walking to and fro in the thicket. he was unable to think, unable to understand. then the rain burst down in an angry gush. everyone had hidden himself away, the woods seemed empty, and there was nowhere to flee. even in the thickest undergrowth you were whipped by the water as it rushed through. but the lightning stopped flashing, its fiery beams no longer flamed their way through the tops of the trees; the thunder moved away and there was only a distant rumbling to be heard before it was entirely silent. now the rain became gentler. its broad patter could be heard everywhere but powerfully for another hour, the forest stood breathing deeply in the still air and allowed itself to be soaked, no-one, now, was afraid to stand in the open. that feeling was gone, washed away by the rain.
bambi and his mother had never gone out onto the meadow as early as they did that evening. in fact it was hardly even evening. the sun was still high in the sky, there was a powerful freshness in the air, it had a richer fragrance than at other times and the woods sang with a thousand voices, for everyone had come out of his hiding place and was hurrying round to each other in their excitement to tell them about what they had just experienced.
before stepping onto the meadow they had to pass by a big oak tree standing right at the edge of the woods, just beside their path. they had to pass by this big, beautiful tree every time they went out onto the meadow. this time there was the squirrel sitting on one of its branches, and he wished them good evening. bambi and the squirrel were good friends with each other. the first time he met him bambi thought the squirrel was a very small deer because of his red coat, and stared at him in amazement. but bambi really was too young at that time and simply could not understand anything. right from the start, he felt an exceptional liking for the squirrel. he was so well mannered in every way, the way he spoke was so pleasant, and bambi adored the wonderful way he performed acrobatics, how he climbed, how he jumped and how he kept his balance. he would take part in the conversation while running up and down the smooth trunk of the tree as if that were nothing at all. he sat upright on a branch of the tree as it moved to and fro, he leant comfortably against his bushy tail which rose up high and handsome behind him, he showed his white breast, moved his front paws with great elegance, turned his head to left and right, laughed with merry eyes and in a very short time he would say so many entertaining or interesting things. then he came down from the tree again, and did so fast and in such jumps that anyone would think he was about to fall down onto your head. he swung his long red tail vigorously and said, “hello, hello! so nice of you to drop by!” while he was still far above bambi’s head.
bambi and his mother stood where they were.
the squirrel ran down the smooth trunk. “now then,” he began to chat. “did you understand that alright? i can see, of course, that everything’s nice and tidy. and that’s always the main thing after all.” as quick as a flash he ran back up the trunk, saying, “no, it’s too damp for me down there. just a moment and i’ll find a better place. i hope you don’t mind. thank you. i thought you wouldn’t mind. and we can talk just as well from where we are now.”
he ran to and fro on a level branch. “what a business that was!” he continued. “so much noise, such a scandal that was! just think how shocked i am. you squeeze yourself into a nook, keep perfectly quiet, hardly daring to move. that’s the worst thing of all, sitting there like that without moving. you hope, of course, that nothing’s going to happen, don’t you, and my tree certainly is especially suited for that sort of trick, no, it can’t be denied, my tree is especially suited ... it has to be said. i am content. however far i roam i don’t wish for any other. but when things happen like they did today it does get you so upset, it’s disgusting.”
the squirrel sat there, his beautiful erect tail close behind him, he showed the white of his breast and held his two front paws emotionally pressed against his heart. it was obvious that when he said he had been made cross he was telling the truth.
“we want to go out onto the meadow, now,” said bambi’s mother, “so that we can dry ourselves off in the sunshine.”
“oh, what a good idea,” the squirrel exclaimed. “you really are so clever, really, i always say that you are so clever!” with a single leap he was on a branch higher up. “there’s nothing better that you could do now than to go out onto the meadow,” he called down. then he rushed around in nimble leaps hither and thither and up into the canopy of the trees. “i want to get up to where i can get some sunshine,” he chatted contentedly, “we’re all soaking wet! i want to get right up high!” he was not at all concerned about whether anyone was still listening to him.
on the meadow, it was already very lively. bambi’s friend the hare was sitting there with his family all around him. auntie ena was standing there with her children and some other people she knew. today, bambi saw his father again. the came slowly out from the trees, some here, some there, then someone else appeared. they walked slowly up and down along the edge of the woods, each one in his own place. they paid no attention to anyone, they did not even talk to each other. bambi frequently looked over at them, respectfully but full of curiosity.
then he talked with faline, gobo and a few other children. he thought it would be alright to play for a little while. all of them said they agreed, and then the running round in circles began. faline showed that she was the merriest of them all. she was so lively and nimble and she sparkled with sudden new ideas. gobo, though, quickly became tired. he had been terribly afraid while the storm was raging, it had made his heart beat fast and it was still doing so. maybe gobo was a little bit of a weakling, but bambi loved him because he was so good-natured and so helpful and never let anyone see it when he was a little bit sad.
