The elder continued to look at him. “And you’re not calling out for her?”
Bambi looked into that venerable, ice-grey face, looked up at the elder’s majestic crown, and suddenly found himself full of courage. “I can be by myself, too,” he said.
The elder looked at him for a while and then, softly, he said, “Are you not the little one who, not very long ago, was crying for his mother?”
Bambi felt slightly ashamed, but continued to be courageous. “Yes, that was me,” he admitted.
The elder looked at him in silence, and it seemed to Bambi that these deep eyes were watching him with more tenderness. “You told me off for it, elder prince,” he exclaimed, “for not being able to be by myself. I can do now, though.”
The elder looked at Bambi, examining him, and smiled, very slightly, barely noticeably, but Bambi did notice it. “Elder prince,” he asked trustingly, “what happened back there? I can’t understand it ... who is this ‘He’ they’re all talking about ...?” He stopped, shocked at the dark look that bade him to be silent.
They said nothing for a while. The elder stopped looking at Bambi and stared into the distance, then he said, slowly, “Listen for yourself, smell for yourself, watch for yourself. Learn for yourself.” He raised the crown on his head even higher. “Farewell,” he said. Then nothing more. And then, he had disappeared.
Bambi, dismayed, stayed where he was and wanted to give up hope. But the prince’s farewell was still in his ears and gave him some comfort. Farewell, the elder had said. So he wasn’t cross with him.
Bambi was filled with pride, felt that he had been lifted out of something that was formal and serious. Yes, life was hard and full of danger. Let it bring whatever it wants, he would learn somehow to bear all of it.
Slowly, he walked deeper into the woods.