the red blood oozed on his white chest. He
ran about for an hour, then suddenly Âcrumpled up, fell across a branch, and
dropped dead in the snow. A Âcouple of magpies flew down at once to begin their
meal.
Another day a fox tore to pieces the strong and handsome pheasant who had
enjoyed such general respect and popularity. His death aroused the sympathies of a wide
circle who tried to comfort his disconsolate widow.
The fox had dragged the pheasant out of the snow, where he was buried,
thinking himself well hidden. No one could have felt safer than the pheasant for it all
happened in broad daylight. The terrible hardship that seemed to have no end spread
bitterness and brutality. It destroyed all their memories of the past, their faith in
each other, and ruined every good custom they had. There was no longer either peace or
mercy in the Âforest.
âItâs hard to believe that it will ever be better,â
ÂBambiâs mother sighed.
Aunt Ena sighed too. âItâs hard to believe that it was ever
any better,â she said.
âAnd yet,â Marena said, looking in front of her, âI
always think how beautiful it was before.â
âLook,â old Nettla said to Aunt Ena, âyour little one is
trembling.â She pointed to Gobo. âDoes he always tremble like
that?â
âYes,â Aunt Ena answered gravely, âheâs shivered
that way for the last few days.â
âWell,â said old Nettla in her frank way, âIâm
glad that I have no more children. If that little one were mine Iâd wonder if
heâd last out the winter.â
The future really didnât look very bright for Gobo. He was weak. He
had always been much more delicate than Bambi or Faline and remained smaller than either
of them. He was growing worse from day to day. He could not eat even the little food
there was. It made his stomach ache. And he was quite exhausted by the cold, and by the
horrors around him. He shivered more and more and could hardly stand up. Everyone looked
at him sympathetically.
Old Nettla went up to him and nudged him good-naturedly.
âDonât be so sad,â she said encouragingly, âthatâs no way
for a little prince to act, and besides itâs unhealthy.â She turned away so
that no one could see how moved she was.
Ronno, who had settled himself a little to one side in the snow, suddenly
sprang up. âI donât know what it is,â he mumbled and gazed around.
Everyone grew watchful. âWhat is it?â they asked.
âI donât know,â Ronno repeated. âBut Iâm
restless. I suddenly felt restless as if something were wrong.â
Karus was snuffing the air. âI donât smell anything
strange,â he declared.
They all stood still, listening and snuffing the air. âItâs
nothing, thereâs absolutely nothing to smell,â they agreed one after
another.
âNevertheless,â Ronno insisted, âyou can say what you
like, something is wrong.â
Marena said, âThe crows are calling.â
âThere they go calling again,â Faline added quickly, but the
others had already heard them.
âThey are flying,â said Karus and the others.
Everybody looked up. High above the treetops a flock of crows flapped by.
They came from the farthest edge of the forest, the direction from which danger always
came, and they were complaining to one another. Apparently something unusual had
happened.
âWasnât I right?â asked Ronno. âYou can see that
something is happening.â
âWhat shall we do?â Bambiâs mother whispered
anxiously.
âLetâs get away,â Aunt Ena urged in alarm.
âWait,â Ronno commanded.
âBut the children,â Aunt Ena replied, âthe children.
Gobo canât run.â
âGo ahead,â Ronno agreed, âgo off with your children. I
donât think thereâs any need for