Gobo’s flank had been torn open and he lay there with his bloody innards protruding. He made a dull movement of turning and raising his head.
“Marena ...” he said with some effort, “Marena ... He didn’t recognize me ...” His voice broke off.
From the bushes between them and the meadow, there came an uproarious noise showing no thought of any need to be careful.
Marena lowered her head down to Gobo. “He’s coming!” she whispered urgently. “Gobo ... He’s coming ... can’t you stand up and come with me ...?”
Gobo, once again, weakly turned his head and raised it. His legs twitched violently but he continued to lie where he was.
With a clattering and a cracking and a loud rustling the bushes divided and He entered.
Marena could see him from a short distance. She slowly crept back, disappeared behind the undergrowth, and hurried to join Bambi and Faline.
She turned around once more and there she saw Him as He bent down over the fallen Gobo and took hold of him.
Then she heard Gobo’s pitiful scream of death.