“Because all the bushes are watching over us, because the twigs on the bushes rustle, because the rough brushwood on the ground cracks and gives us warning, because the dead leaves from last year lie on the ground and rustle to give us a sign, ... because the jays are there, the magpies too, they keep watch over us, and that’s how we know there’s somebody coming a long time before they reach us ...”
“What’s that,” Bambi enquired, “the dead leaves from last year?”
“Come and sit beside me,” said his mother. “I’ll tell you all about it.” Bambi gladly went and sat beside her and snuggled in close while she explained to him that the trees do not stay green all the time, that the sunshine and the lovely warmth go away. Then it gets cold, the leaves turn yellow because of the frost, they go brown and red and, one by one, they fall off the trees so that they and the bushes reach their naked branches to the sky and look completely forlorn. But the dead leaves lie on the ground, and when they’re disturbed by somebody’s foot they rustle: There’s someone coming! Oh they’re very good, these dead leaves from last year. They do us a good service by being so eager and by keeping watch the way they do. And now, in the middle of summer, there are still lots of them hidden under the things growing on the ground and they warn about any danger long before it gets near.
Bambi pressed close against his mother. He forgot all about the meadow. It was so cosy to sit here and listen to what his mother told him.
Then, when his mother stopped speaking, he thought about what she had said. He thought it was very nice of the good, old leaves to watch over them so carefully even though they were dead and had been frozen and had gone through so many things already. He tried to think what that danger, that his mother kept talking about, could actually be. But all that thinking tired him out; it was all quiet around him, all you could hear was the heat of the air. And he went to sleep.
[CHAPTER] 4
One evening, when he went back out onto the meadow with his mother, he thought he knew by now about everything that could be seen or heard there. But it turned out that he still did know as much as he had thought.
At first, everything was the same as his first time there. His mother allowed Bambi to play tag with him. He ran round in circles, and the wide open space, the lofty sky and the freedom of the air were all so exhilarating that he rushed about with joy. After a time he noticed that his mother was standing still. He stopped suddenly as he was turning, so suddenly that his four legs were spread wide apart. He jumped high into the air so that his sudden halt would be more dignified, and now he was standing properly. His mother, a little way away seemed to be talking with someone but he could not make out, in the long grass, who that could be. Curious, Bambi went closer. There, in the tangle of grass stems close in to his mother, there were two long ears twitching. They were greyish-brown, and the black stripes on them made them quite pretty. Bambi hesitated, but his mother said to him, “Come here Bambi, this is our friend, the hare. Come on then, let him see you.”
Bambi went up to her straight away. There sat the hare, and very honest he looked. His long ears rose in powerful grandeur high above his head, and then they fell back down and hung limply as if they had been suddenly transformed into something weak. When Bambi saw the hare’s whiskers, which extended stiff and straight all around his mouth, he began to think about them. But he noticed that the hare had a very gently face, all his features seemed to indicate a good nature, and his big round eyes looked modestly out at the world. He really did look like a friend, this hare. The thoughts that had flickered through Bambi’s head disappeared immediately. Remarkably enough, and just as quickly, he even lost all the respect that he had felt at first.
“Good evening, young sir,” said the hare with carefully chosen politeness.