“You’re not letting me get a look at you either,” Bambi suggested.
The coot immediately appeared in front of him. “Well there’s nothing to look at about me, is there,” came his simple reply. There he stood, slender, the water glittering on his back, his simple clothing, his elegant figure, ever-moving, content. And in a moment he was once more gone.
“I don’t know how you can be wondering for so long about a little speck,” his voice came from the water. And – again from a different place - he added. “It’s boring to keep on about a single speck. It’s dangerous and all.” Again from another different place he proclaimed, loud, triumphantly and gaily, “You’ve got to keep moving! If you want to stay safe and get your belly full, you’ve got to keep moving!”
Bambi was startled by a gentle rustling in the grass. He looked round. There, in the bushes, he glimpsed something reddish, which disappeared into the rushes. At the same time there came a warm but sharp trembling in his breath. The fox slipped by. Bambi wanted to call to the duck and stamped on the ground as a warning. There was a rustling and the reeds suddenly divided, the water splashed and the duck screamed in confusion. Bambi heard the clatter of her wings, saw the whiteness of her body in the shimmering greenness, and now he saw how her wings were flapping loudly and whipped against the cheeks of the fox. Then, all became quiet.
Very soon afterwards the fox came up into the bushes with the duck in his jaws. Her neck hung down loosely, her wings still moved feebly, the fox paid no attention. He looked sideways at Bambi, and his bulging eyes seemed to be jeering, and he slipped slowly away into the thick woods.
Bambi stood there, motionless.
Some of the older ducks had clattered up onto the bank, they flew around in confusion caused by the horror of what they had seen. The coot sounded shrill warning cries to every side. The tits in the bushes twittered excitedly, the young ducks pushed themselves into the rushes and, having become orphans, lamented with gentle tones.
The kingfisher rushed by along the bank.
“Please!” called the young ducks. “Please, have you seen our mother?”
“Srrr-ih!” the kingfisher shrieked, and seemed to sparkle as he rushed past. “What’s that to me?”