The call came again clearly, thin as a bird’s twittering, tender and full of longing: “Come, come!” it said.
Yes, that was her voice. That was Faline. Bambi rushed away so fast that the dry branches barely crackled as he burst through the bushes and the hot green leaves scarcely rustled.
But he had to stop short in the midst of his course, and swerve to one side, for the old stag was standing there, barring his path.
Bambi had no time for anything but love. The old stag was indifferent to him now. He would meet him again somewhere later on. He had no time for old stags now, however noble they might be. He had thoughts for Faline alone. He greeted the stag hastily and tried to hurry by.
“Where are you going?” asked the old stag earnestly.
Bambi was somewhat embarrassed and tried to think of an evasion, but he changed his mind and answered truthfully “To her.”
“Don’t go,” said the old stag.
For a second a single angry spark flared up in Bambi’s mind. Not go to Faline? How could the mean old stag ask that? “I’ll simply run off,” Bambi thought. And he looked quickly at the old stag. But the deep look that met him in the old stag’s eyes held him fast. He quivered with impatience but he did not run away.
“She’s calling me,” he said in explanation. He said it in a tone which clearly bleated, “Don’t keep me talking here.”
“No,” said the old stag, “she isn’t calling.”
The call came once again, thin as a bird’s twittering, “Come!”
“Listen,” Bambi cried excitedly, “there it is again.”
“I hear it,” said the old stag, nodding.
“Well, goodbye,” Bambi flung back hurriedly.
“Stop!” the old stag commanded.
“What do you want?” cried Bambi, beside himself with impatience. “Let me go. I have no time. Please, Faline is calling. … You ought to see that. …”
“I tell you,” the old stag said, “that it isn’t she.”
Bambi was desperate. “But,” he said, “I know her voice.”
“Listen to me,” the old stag went on.
Again the call came. Bambi felt the ground burning under his feet. “Later,” he pleaded, “I’ll come right back.”
“No,” said the old stag sadly, “you’ll never come back, never again.”
The call came again. “I must go! I must go!” cried Bambi who was nearly out of his wits.
“Then,” the old stag declared in a commanding voice, “we’ll go together.”
“Quickly,” cried Bambi and bounded off.
“No, slowly,” commanded the old stag in a voice that forced Bambi to obey. “Stay in back of me. Move one step at a time.”
The old stag began to move forward. Bambi followed, sighing with impatience.
“Listen,” said the old stag without stopping, “no matter how often that call comes, don’t stir from my side. If it’s Faline, you’ll get to hear her soon enough. But it isn’t Faline. Don’t let yourself be tempted. Everything depends now on whether you trust me or not.”
Bambi did not dare to resist, and surrendered in silence.
The old stag advanced slowly and Bambi followed him. O how cleverly the old stag moved! Not a sound came from under his hoofs. Not a leaf was disturbed. Not a twig snapped. And yet they were gliding through thick bushes, slinking through the ancient tangled thicket. Bambi was amazed and had to admire him in spite of his impatience. He had never dreamed that anybody could move like that.
The call came again and again. The old stag stood still, listening and nodding his head. Bambi stood beside him, shaken with desire, and suffering from restraint. He could not understand it at all.
Several times the old stag stopped, although no call had come, and lifted his head, listening and nodding. Bambi heard nothing. The old stag turned away from the direction of the call and made a detour. Bambi raged inwardly because of it.
The call came again and again. At last they drew nearer to it, then still nearer. At last they were quite near.
The old stag whispered, “No matter what you see, don’t move, do you hear? Watch everything I do and act just as I do, cautiously. And don’t lose your head.”
They went a few steps farther and suddenly that sharp, arresting scent that Bambi knew so well struck them full in the face. He swallowed so much of it that he nearly cried out. He stood as though rooted to the ground. For a moment his heart seemed pounding in his throat. The old stag stood calmly beside him and motioned with his eyes.
He was standing there.
He was standing quite close to them leaning against the trunk of an oak, hidden by hazel bushes. He was calling softly, “Come, come!”
Bambi was completely bewildered. He was so terrified that he began to understand only by degrees that it was He who was imitating Faline’s voice. It was He who was calling, “Come, come!”
Cold terror shot through Bambi’s body. The idea of flight gripped him and tugged at his heart.
“Be still,” whispered the old stag quickly and commandingly as if he meant to forestall any outbreak of fear. Bambi controlled himself with an effort.
The old stag looked at him a little scornfully at first, it seemed to Bambi. He noticed it in spite of the state he was in. But the stag changed at once to a serious and kindly look.
Bambi peered out with blinking eyes to where He was standing, and felt as if he could not bear His horrible presence much longer.
As if he had read this thought, the old stag whispered to him, “Let’s go back,” and turned about.
They glided away cautiously. The old stag moved with a marvelous zigzag course whose purpose Bambi did not understand. Again he followed with painfully controlled impatience. The longing for Faline had harassed him on the way over; now the impulse to flee was beating through his veins.
But the old stag walked on slowly,
