“Just don’t bother, love,” called a crow from above her who was flying in the same direction, “just give it up. You can’t fly high enough to get out of these flakes. That’s snow, i’n’it.”
“Snow?” said the magpie in amazement as she struggled against each new flurry that came at her.
“Well, yeah!” said the crow. “Winter’s here. That’s snow, that is!”
“Forgive me,” answered the magpie, “I only left the nest in May. I don’t know what winter’s like.”
“Yeah, there’s a lot like that,” the crow observed. “You’ll soon find out though.”
“Well, if that’s what snow is,” thought the magpie, “I’d like to sit down for a little while.” She went down and sat on a twig on an alder tree and shook herself.
The crow flew lazily on.
At first, Bambi was pleased to see the snow. The air was still and mild, the white stars floated in the sky and everything in the world looked entirely new. It had become lighter, even gayer, thought Bambi, and for the brief periods when the sun came out everything lit up, the white covering sparkled and shone with such power that it was quite dazzling.
But Bambi soon stopped being pleased about the snow, as it was becoming harder and harder to find food. You had to scrape the snow aside and that took a lot of effort before a small patch of limp grass was exposed. And the snow cut into your legs too, so that you had to be careful not to get your feet injured. Gobo already had done. But, of course, that is what Gobo was like, he was never able to endure very much, and he caused his mother a lot of worry.
They were together now for almost all of the time, and they also had more company than previously. Ena would often call by with her children. Marena, a girl who was nearly grown up, had also begun to mix in their circle. But it was probably old Mrs. Nettla who came by for a chat most often. She was quite alone and had an opinion about everything. “No,” she said, “I want to have nothing more to do with children. That’s a pleasure that I’ve really had enough of.”