“What?” asked the owl, no longer so satisfied with himself.
Bambi told him about his meeting with his enormous relatives.
“Don’t tell me about your relatives,” declared the owl. “I’ve got relatives too, you know. But all I have to do is look round me anywhere in the daytime and they’re all over me. Na, there’s not much point in having relatives. If they’re bigger than you they’re good for nothing, and if they’re smaller they’re even more good for nothing. If they’re bigger than you then you can’t stand them ‘cause they’re so haughty, and if they’re smaller they can’t stand you ‘cause they think you’re haughty. Na, I don’t want to know anything about anything of that.”
“But ... I don’t even know my relatives ...” said Bambi shyly and wishing he did. “I’d never heard anything about them and today was the first time I saw them.”
“Don’t you bother about those people,” the owl advised him. “Just take my word for it,” he said, rolling his eyes in a meaningful way, “take my word, that’s the best thing to do. Relatives are never as good as friends. Look at the two of us, we’re not related but we’re good friends, aren’t we, and very nice it is too.”
Bambi was about to say something more, but the owl continued speaking. “I’ve got some experience in things like that. You’re a bit young, still. Take my word, I know better about these things. And anyway, I don’t see why I should get involved in your family matters.” He rolled his eyes, and rolled them in a way that seemed so thoughtful, and sat with an expression that seemed so earnest and meaningful, that Bambi was modest and said nothing.
[CHAPTER] 8
Another night went by, and the following day something else happened.
The sky was cloudless, and the morning was full of dew and freshness. All the leaves on the trees and the bushes suddenly had a more vivid scent. The meadow breathed the air in broad waves and lifted it up to the tree tops.
‘Peep’ said the tits as they woke up. They said it quite quietly, but as it was still twilight and the sky was grey they said nothing more for a little while. For a time there was silence. Then the raucous, rasping sound of a crow came from high up in the air. The crows had woken up and were visiting each other in the tree tops. The magpie answered straight back: “Shakerakshak ... can you believe this, I’m still asleep?” Then hundreds of calls, here and there, far and near, tentatively began: peep! Peep! Tiu! These sounds still had something of sleep, something of the twilight about them. And yet they were actually all quite distinct from each other.