Bambi Part 3: Bedtime Story

Dear ones,

Our adventures with sweet Bambi continue tonight with part three of my readings.

This is a reading of the original story of Bambi, written by Felix Salten in 1923. This is the story that was eventually adapted for the movie of the same name.

This is part three of a thirteen-part series. You can find all the recordings of Bambi on my profile, in the playlist titled 'Bambi'.

Enjoy dear ones.

Transcript

Hello dear ones,

And welcome to today's reading of Bambi.

Part 3.

Chapter 5 Time went by,

And Bambi went through many new experiences.

It sometimes even made him dizzy having so many things to learn.

Now he knows how to listen.

Not just hear what is happening nearby,

So close that it forces itself into your ears.

No,

There is certainly no art in that.

Now he can listen properly,

And with understanding to anything that happens,

However gently it moves.

He can listen to every fine rustling that the wind brings in.

He knows,

For instance,

When there is a pheasant running through the undergrowth.

He recognises quite exactly that gentle scurrying that continually stops and then starts again.

He can even recognise the mice in the woods,

From the sound that they make as they run to and fro.

From the little journeys that they're making.

Then there are the moles,

Who rush round in circles,

Making a rustling noise under the elder bushes when they're in a good mood.

He knows the brash,

Clear call of the falcons,

And listens to it as it changes to an angry tone when a hawk or an eagle comes close.

That makes them cross because they fear their territory might be taken from them.

He knows the sound of the woodland pigeons as they flap their wings.

The lovely,

Distant swish of the ducks as they flap their wings.

And many,

Many other sounds.

He is slowly learning to understand things by his sense of smell.

He will soon understand them as as his mother.

He can understand what he is smelling as soon as he draws in a breath.

Oh,

That's clover,

And that's rowan,

He thinks,

When the wind is blowing in from the meadow.

And he can smell when his friend,

The hare,

Is outdoors.

Also,

In among all of the smells of leaves,

Soil,

Herbs and wild onions,

He can tell when the polecat is going past.

By putting his nose to the ground and testing it thoroughly,

He can tell that the fox has been there.

He might notice that somewhere nearby are his relatives,

Auntie Ina with the children.

He is now completely at ease with the night,

And he no longer feels a great longing to go and run about in the light of the day.

Now,

He is happy to spend his days lying in the little shady space in the undergrowth with his mother.

He hears the heat of the air,

And he sleeps.

Now and then he wakes up and listens and smells,

Which is the proper thing to do.

Everything is as it should be.

There are only the little tits who would sometimes chatter with each other,

The midges in the grass,

Who are almost never able to stay quiet,

Talk among themselves,

And the wood pigeons never stop proclaiming their greatness and to do something with enthusiasm.

What does all that matter to Bambi?

He goes back to sleep.

Now,

He is very fond of the night.

Everything is so happy,

And everything is moving.

You also,

Of course,

Have to be careful in the night time,

But you have less to worry about,

And you can go anywhere you want to,

And everywhere you go,

You come across people you know,

And they too will be more carefree than they are at other times of the day.

In the night time,

The forest is solemn and silent.

There are voices to be heard,

But just a few of them,

And in all this stillness,

They seem loud,

And they sound different from the daytime voices,

And they have more effect.

Bambi enjoyed hearing the owl.

She is so dignified as she flies,

Perfectly silent,

Perfectly effortless.

A butterfly is quiet just because of her size,

But the owl is so immense,

And her face is so imposing,

So determined,

Full of so much thought.

Her eyes are so majestic.

Bambi admires her firm gaze with its quiet courage.

He enjoys listening when she talked with his mother one time,

Or with anyone else.

He stands slightly to one side,

A little afraid of that gaze that he admires so much.

He does not understand much of the clever things that she says,

But he does know that they are clever,

And that enchants him,

Fills him with admiration for the owl.

The owl begins to sing her song.

It sounds different from the song of the thrush,

Or the golden oriole,

Different from the friendly motif of the cuckoo,

But Bambi loves the song of the owl,

Because he feels a secretive earnestness in it.

An indescribable cleverness,

And a mysterious melancholy.

Then the tawny owl is there again,

A charming little lad.

Dignified,

Faithful,

And more inquisitive than most,

He always wants to stir up a fuss.

Yuki!

Yuki!

He calls,

In a voice that is shrill,

Terrifying,

And very piercing.

It sounds as if his life were in danger.

But he is a cheerful character,

And it delights him when he startles someone.

Yuki!

He shouts,

So loudly that it alarms anyone in the wood,

Within half an hour's distance.

But then he has a gentle cooing laugh,

Just for himself,

And you can only hear it if you are right next to him.

Bambi had realised that the tawny owl is pleased when he startles someone,

Or if somebody thinks something awful has happened to him,

And ever since,

Whenever the tawny owl is nearby,

He rushes to him and asks,

Has something happened to you?

Or he might sigh and say,

Oh,

You really startled me.

And then the owl feels very satisfied.

Yes,

He says with a laugh,

It's quite a distressing sound,

Isn't it?

He puffs up his feathers so that he looks like a soft grey ball,

And looks very charming.

A couple of times there was even thunder and lightning,

Both day and night.

The first time it was by day,

And Bambi felt how he became afraid when,

In his leafy bedroom in the woods,

It became darker and darker.

It seemed to him that the night had fallen down from the sky in the middle of the day.

Then,

As the storm roared its way through the woods,

So that the mute trees began to groan loudly,

Bambi shook with fear.

And as the lightning lit up the sky,

And the thunder roared,

Bambi went mad with the horror of it,

And thought the world was about to be torn to pieces.

He ran behind his mother,

Who was slightly unsettled,

Had jumped to her feet and was walking to and throw in the thicket.

He was unable to think,

Unable to understand.

Then,

The rain burst down in an angry gush.

Everyone had hidden himself away,

And the woods seemed quite empty.

Even in the thickest undergrowth,

You were whipped by the water as it rushed through.

But the lightning stopped flashing,

Its fiery beams no longer flamed their way through the tops of the trees.

The thunder moved away,

And there was only a distant rumbling to be heard,

Before it was entirely silent.

Now,

The rain became gentler.

Its broad patter could be heard everywhere.

The forest stood breathing deeply in the still air,

And allowed itself to be soaked.

No one,

Now,

Was afraid to stand in the open.

That feeling was gone,

Washed away by the rain.

Bambi and his mother had never gone out into the meadow as early as they did that evening.

In fact,

It was hardly even evening.

The sun was still high in the sky.

There was a powerful freshness in the air.

It had a richer fragrance than at other times,

And the woods sang with a thousand voices.

For everyone had come out of his hiding place,

And was hurrying round to reach each other,

In their excitement,

To tell them about what they had just experienced.

Before stepping onto the meadow,

They had to pass by a big oak tree,

Standing right at the edge of the woods,

Just beside their path.

They had to pass by this big beautiful tree,

Every time they went out onto the meadow.

This time,

There was the squirrel sitting on one of its branches,

And he wished them good evening.

Bambi and the squirrel were good friends.

The first time he met him,

Bambi thought the squirrel was a very small deer,

Because of his red coat,

And stared at him in amazement.

But Bambi really was too young at that time,

And simply could not understand anything.

Right from the start,

He felt an exceptional liking for the squirrel.

He was so well mannered in every way.

The way he spoke was so pleasant.

And Bambi adored the wonderful way he performed acrobatics,

How he climbed,

How he jumped,

And how he kept his balance.

He would take part in the conversation,

While running up and down the smooth trunk of the tree,

As if it were nothing at all.

He sat upright on a branch of the tree,

As it moved to and fro.

He leant comfortably against his bushy tail,

Which rose up high and handsome behind him.

He showed his white breast,

Moved his front paws with great elegance,

Turned his head left and right,

Laughed with merry eyes,

And in a very short time,

He would say so many entertaining or interesting things.

Then he came down from the tree again,

And did so fast,

And in such jumps that anyone would think he was about to fall down onto your head.

He swung his long red tail vigorously,

And said,

Hello,

So nice of you to drop by,

While he was still far above Bambi's head.

Bambi and his mother stood where they were.

The squirrel ran down the smooth trunk.

Now then,

He began to chat.

Did you understand that all right?

I can see,

Of course,

That everything's nice and tidy,

And that's always the main thing after all.

As quick as a flash,

He ran back up the trunk,

Saying,

No,

It's too damp for me down there.

Just a moment,

And I'll find a better place.

I hope you don't mind.

Thank you.

He ran to and fro on a level branch.

What a business that was,

He continued.

So much noise,

Such a scandal.

Just think how shocked I am.

You squeeze yourself into a nook,

Keep perfectly quiet,

Hardly daring to move.

That's the worst thing of all,

Sitting there like that without moving.

You hope,

Of course,

That nothing's going to happen.

And my tree certainly is especially suited for that sort of trick.

No,

It can't be denied.

My tree is especially suited.

It has to be said.

I am content.

However far I roam,

I don't wish for any other.

But when things happen like they did today,

It does get you so upset.

The squirrel sat there,

His beautiful erect tail close behind him.

He showed the white of his breast and held his two front paws emotionally pressed against his heart.

It was obvious that when he said he had been made cross,

He was telling the truth.

We want to go out onto the meadow now,

Said Bambi's mother,

So that we can dry ourselves off in the sunshine.

Oh,

What a good idea,

The squirrel exclaimed.

You really are so clever,

Really.

I always say that you are so clever.

With a single leap,

He was on a branch higher up.

There's nothing better that you could do now than to go out into the meadow,

He called down.

Then he rushed around in nimble leaps,

Hither and tither,

And up into the canopy of the trees.

I want to get up high to where I can get some sunshine.

We're all soaking wet.

I want to get right up high.

He was not at all concerned about whether anyone was still listening to him.

On the meadow,

It was already very lively.

Bambi's friend the hare was sitting there with his family all around him.

Auntie Ena was standing there with her children and some other people she knew.

Today,

Bambi saw his father again.

They came slowly out from the trees,

Some here,

Some there.

Then someone else appeared.

They walked slowly up and down along the edge of the woods,

Each one in his own place.

They paid no attention to anyone.

They did not even talk to each other.

Bambi frequently looked over to them,

Respectfully,

But full of curiosity.

Then he talked with Feline,

Gobo,

And a few other children.

He thought it would be all right to play for a little while,

And all of them said they agreed.

And then the running round in circles began.

Feline showed that she was the merriest of them all.

She was so lively and nimble,

And she sparkled with sudden new ideas.

Gobo,

Though,

Quickly became tired.

He had been terribly afraid while the storm was raging.

It had made his heart beat fast,

And it was still doing so.

Maybe Gobo was a little bit of a weakling,

But Bambi loved him because he was so good-natured and so very helpful.

Chapter Six Time passes,

And Bambi learns how good grass tastes,

How tender the buds of leaves are,

And how sweet clover is.

When he presses himself against his mother to get some refreshment,

She often pushes him away.

You're not a little child anymore,

She says.

Sometimes she will be even more direct and say,

Go away and leave me in peace.

Sometimes his mother would even stand up in the middle of the day,

In their little place in the wood,

And just walk away,

Without looking to see whether Bambi is following her or not.

There are even times when she is walking along the familiar paths,

When she seems not to notice whether Bambi is trotting behind her like a good boy.

One day,

His mother was not there,

And Bambi does not know how that is possible,

Cannot understand it.

But his mother is gone,

And Bambi,

For the first time,

Is alone.

He's bewildered.

He becomes uneasy and nervous and anxious,

And he begins to long for her quite pitifully.

Very sadly,

He stands there and calls to her.

No one answers.

No one comes.

He listens.

He smells the air.

Nothing.

He calls again.

Gently,

Inside himself,

Imploringly,

He calls,

Mother?

All in vain.

Now,

He is gripped with doubt as to whether he can endure it,

So he begins to walk.

He wanders along all the paths he knows,

Stops and calls out,

Walks on with hesitant steps,

Fearful and unable to understand.

Bambi is very sad.

He carries on walking and finds himself on paths where he has never been before.

He finds himself in parts of the wood which are strange to him.

Bambi is lost.

Then,

He hears the voices of two children who are calling out like him.

Mother?

Mother?

Surely that is Gobo and Feline.

It must be them.

He runs quickly towards the voices and soon sees the red coat shining through between the leaves.

Gobo and Feline.

There they stand next to each other under a dogwood,

Looking forlorn and calling,

Mother?

Mother?

They're glad that they can hear some rustling in the undergrowth,

But they are disappointed when they see it is only Bambi.

But they are a little bit glad to see him,

And Bambi is glad that he is not quite so alone anymore.

My mother's gone away somewhere,

Says Bambi.

Ours is gone too,

Lamented Gobo.

They look at each other in dismay.

But where could they be,

Asks Bambi,

Almost in tears.

I don't know,

Sighs Gobo.

His heart is beating fast and he is feeling quite miserable.

Suddenly,

Feline says,

I think they are with our fathers.

Gobo and Bambi look at each other in astonishment.

They are immediately gripped by a sense of awe.

You mean,

With our fathers?

Asked Bambi.

Feline shudders,

But she makes a face that seems to be saying a lot.

She looks like someone who knows more than is willing to say.

She does not really know anything at all,

Of course.

She does not even know where she got the idea from.

But as Gobo repeats,

Do you really mean that?

She makes herself look clever and says each time,

Yes,

I think so.

That is,

Of course,

A guess,

But it is at least worth thinking about.

It does not make Bambi any less uneasy,

Though.

He is not now capable of thinking.

He is too anxious and too sad.

He moves away.

He does not like to spend too much time on one spot.

Feline and Gobo go with him a little way.

All three of them call,

Mother!

Mother!

But now Gobo and Feline have stopped.

They do not dare to go any further.

Feline says,

Where are we going?

Our mother knows where we should be,

So let's stay there so that she can find us when she comes back.

Bambi walks on by himself.

He wanders through a thicket where there is a little bare patch.

In the middle of the bare patch,

Bambi stops.

It is as if he is held there by his roots and cannot leave the spot.

There,

At the edge of the bare patch,

In a tall hazel bush,

He could make out a form.

Bambi has never seen a form like this.

At the same time,

A scent came to him in the air,

A scent he has never smelt before.

It is a strange aroma,

Heavy and sharp and exciting,

Enough to make you mad.

Bambi stares at the form.

It is remarkably erect,

Exceptionally narrow,

And it has a pale face which is quite naked on the nose and around the eyes,

Horribly naked.

This is a face that projects a dreadful horror,

Cold and gruesome.

This face has a monstrous power to it,

A power that could leave you crippled.

This face is painful to behold,

Hardly bearable to behold,

But Bambi nonetheless stands there and stares at it,

Captivated.

The form remains there motionless for a long time.

Then it reaches one leg out,

A leg that is positioned high up and puts it near its face.

Bambi had not noticed that it was there at all.

This terrible leg stretches right out into the air and it is merely this gesture that sweeps Bambi away like a candle in the wind.

In an instant he is back in the thicket he has just left,

And he runs.

Suddenly his mother is back with him.

She leaps through bush and undergrowth next to him.

The two of them run as fast as they can.

His mother leads the way,

She knows the path,

And Bambi follows.

In this way they keep running until they are at the entrance to their chamber.

Did you,

Did you see that?

Asks his mother gently.

Bambi cannot answer.

He has no breath left.

He merely nods.

That,

That was him,

She says.

The two of them shuddered in horror.