“Of course,” Bambi replied, “you always frighten me.”
The screech-owl chuckled softly. He was pleased. “I hope you don’t hold it against me,” he said, “it’s just my way.” He fluffed himself up so that he resembled a ball, sank his bill in his foamy white feathers and put on a terribly wise and serious face. He was satisfied with himself.
Bambi poured out his heart to him. “Do you know?” he began slyly, “I’ve just had a much worse fright.”
“Indeed!” said the owl displeased. Bambi told him about his encounter with his giant relations.
“Don’t talk to me about relations,” the owl exclaimed, “I’ve got relations too. But I only fly around in the daytime so they are all down on me now. No, there isn’t much use in relations. If they’re bigger than you are, they’re no good to you, and if they’re smaller they’re worth still less. If they’re bigger than you, you can’t bear them because they’re proud, and if they’re smaller they can’t bear you because you’re proud. No, I prefer to have nothing to do with the whole crowd.”
“But, I don’t even know my relations,” Bambi said, laughing shyly, “I never heard of them, I never saw them before today.”
“Don’t bother about such people,” the screech-owl advised. “Believe me,” and he rolled his eyes significantly, “believe me, it’s the best way. Relatives are never as good as friends. Look at us, we’re not related in any way but we’re good friends and that’s much better.”
Bambi wanted to say something else but the screech-owl went on, “I’ve had experience with such things. You are still too young but, believe me, I know better. Besides, I don’t like to get mixed up in family affairs.” He rolled his eyes thoughtfully and looked so impressive with his serious face that Bambi kept a discreet silence.
VII
Another night passed and morning brought an event.
It was a cloudless morning, dewy and fresh. All the leaves on the trees and the bushes seemed suddenly to smell sweeter. The meadows sent up great clouds of perfume to the treetops.
“Peep!” said the titmice when they awoke. They said it very softly. But since it was still gray dawn they said nothing else for a while. For a time it was perfectly still. Then a crow’s hoarse, rasping caw sounded far above in the sky. The crows had awakened and were visiting one another in the treetops. The magpie answered at once, “Shackarakshak! Did you think I was still asleep?” Then a hundred small voices started in very softly here and there. “Peep! peep! tiu!” Sleep and the dark were still in these sounds. And they came from far apart.
Suddenly a blackbird flew to the top of a beech. She perched way up on the topmost twig that stuck up thin against the sky and sat there watching how, far away over the trees, the night-weary, pale-gray heavens were glowing in the distant east and coming to life. Then she commenced to sing.
Her little black body seemed only a tiny dark speck at that distance. She looked like a dead leaf. But she poured out her song in a great flood of rejoicing through the whole forest. And everything began to stir. The finches warbled, the little red-throat and the gold finch were heard. The doves rushed from place to place with a loud clapping and rustling of wings. The pheasants cackled as though their throats would burst. The noise of their wings, as they flew from their roosts to the ground, was soft but powerful. They kept uttering their metallic, splintering call with its soft ensuing chuckle. Far above the falcons cried sharply and joyously, “Yayaya!”
The sun rose.
“Diu diyu!” the yellowbird rejoiced. He flew to and fro among the branches, and his round, yellow body flashed in the morning light like a winged ball of gold.
Bambi walked under the great oak on the meadow. It sparkled with dew. It smelled of grass and flowers and moist earth, and whispered of a thousand living things. Friend Hare was there and seemed to be thinking over something important. A haughty pheasant strutted slowly by, nibbling at the grass seeds and peering cautiously in all directions. The dark, metallic blue on his neck gleamed in the sun.
One of the Princes was standing close to Bambi. Bambi had never seen any of the fathers so close before. The stag was standing right in front of him next to the hazel bush and was somewhat hidden by the branches. Bambi did not move. He wanted the Prince to come out completely, and was wondering whether he dared speak to him. He wanted to ask his mother and looked around for her. But his mother had already gone away and was standing some distance off, beside Aunt Ena. At the same time Gobo and Faline came running out of the woods. Bambi was still thinking it over without stirring. If he went up to his mother and the others now he would have to pass by the Prince. He felt as if he couldn’t do it.
“O well,” he thought, “I don’t have to ask my mother first. The old Prince spoke to me and I didn’t tell Mother anything about it. I’ll say, ‘Good morning, Prince.’ He can’t be offended at that. But if he does get angry, I’ll run away fast.” Bambi struggled with his resolve which began to waver again.
Presently the Prince walked out from behind the hazel bush onto the meadow.
“Now,” thought Bambi.
Then there was a crash like thunder.
Bambi shrank together and didn’t know what had happened. He saw the Prince leap into the air under his very nose and watched him rush past him into the forest with one great bound.
Bambi looked around in a daze. The thunder still vibrated. He saw how his mother and Aunt Ena, Gobo and Faline fled into the
