Bambi

Felix Salten

• Publisher: Clydesdale
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781949846065
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Classics
• Index: Literature

Most nineties kids grew up with the adorable Disney movie Bambi, but the basis for the movie was the 1923 book by Felix Salten. In this stunning edition, experience the classic story brought to life again! The original story of young Bambi starts as he begins life in the forest with his mother, cousins, and other furry friends. However, as winter spreads it icy hands over the forest, Bambi's father, a powerful stag, leaves Bambi and his mother alone to brave the elements and scavenge for food. Bambi also faces the threat of Man, along with Man's weapons that can hurt and kill any animal. Though Bambi fears for his life and the well-being of his friends and family, nothing, not even Man, can stop him from growing to become a mighty Prince of the Forest. With the beautiful refurbished text and illustrations, adults and children of all ages can enjoy this new edition of Bambi.

CHAPTER 1

He came into the world in the middle of a thicket—in a hidden clearing in the woods—the kind that seems to be open in all directions, but still is covered by a canopy. It was a small space, hardly enough room for him and his mother.

There he stood, swaying timidly on his thin legs, looking drowsily around him through cloudy eyes, which saw nothing, letting his head droop, trembling mightily, and he was still quite numb.

“What a beautiful child!” called out a magpie.

She had flown by, lured in by the startling moans from the mother’s labor. Now the magpie sat on a branch nearby. “What a beautiful child!” she called out. She received no answer and continued on eagerly. “How amazing that it can even stand and walk! How interesting! I have never before, in all my life, seen such a thing. Admittedly, I am still young, just out of the nest for a year, as you may know. But how wonderful! Such a sweet child … born in this moment and can already stand on its own legs. I find it so noble. I find everything about you deer is so noble. Can he walk already … ?”

“Of course,” replied the mother quietly. “But you must excuse me if I am not able to chat. I have so much to do right now … besides I still feel a bit weary.”

“Please do not let me disturb you,” said the magpie, “I do not have much time myself. But it is not every day that you get to see such a sight. I say, how cumbersome and difficult it is in these moments. The children cannot move when they first hatch from the egg, they lay there so helplessly in the nest and you must care for them. Care for them. I tell you, I can make no sense of it. Oh, what tireless work it is to feed them, how carefully I must watch over them. I say, think how hard it is to gather food for the children and at the same time look after them so that no danger should come to them; they cannot help themselves when they are alone. Do you not agree? And how long must we wait until they can move on their own, how long does it take them to get their feathers and look proper!”

“I beg your pardon,” replied the mother, “I wasn’t listening to you.”

The magpie flew away. “What a strange person,” she thought to herself, “noble, but strange!”

The mother hardly realized it. She continued to eagerly wash the newborn. She washed it with her tongue; it was grooming, warming massage, and caress all at once.

The little one wobbled a bit. He folded together from the all the gentle, jostling licks and nudging and became still. His small red back, which was still a bit tousled, had fine white dots, and his drowsy infant-like face had the expression of deep sleep.

Hazelnut, dogwood, blackthorn, and young elderberry grew all around. Tall maple, beech, and oak trees built a green roof over the thicket and the firm, dark brown ground sprouted forth fern fronds, sweet pea, and sage. Leaves of violets which had already bloomed, and strawberries which were just beginning to bloom, nestled close to the ground. The light of the early morning sun permeated the thick foliage like a golden web. A mix of voices rang throughout the entire forest and infused it with joyous excitement. The oriole whooped relentlessly, the pigeons cooed ceaselessly, the blackbirds whistled, the finches flapped, the titmice chirped; this gentle chorus of music was disturbed only by the quarrelsome cries of the jays, the blaring laughter of the magpies, and the metallic bursting of the pheasants’ calls, like bells. Sometimes the shrill, short laughter of a woodpecker rose above all the other voices. Above the treetops, the falcon’s cry, bright and urgent, could be heard, and the crows let out a constant choir of their cries.

The little one understood not a single one of the many songs and shrieks, nor a word of the conversations. He listened not at all. He did not perceive the scents which the forest breathed. He only heard the soft rustling which ran along his back as he was washed, warmed, and kissed, and he smelled nothing but the close scent of his mother. He snuggled up to this comforting presence and searched hungrily to find therein the source of his food.

While he drank, the mother continued to caress the little one. “Bambi,” she whispered.

In this moment, she lifted her head; her ears perked up and listened to the wind.

Then she kissed her child again, calm and happy. “Bambi,” she repeated, “my little Bambi.”

CHAPTER 2

Now in the early summer, the trees stood still under the blue sky, held their arms outstretched, and received the energy that beamed down from the sun. The blossoms on the hedges and bushes in the thicket opened—white, red, and yellow stars. Some even began to bear young fruit—innumerable small, balled up fists, perched on the fine tips of branches, delicate and firm and determined. These colorful stars came up from the ground amongst a multitude of flowers, so that the woodland ground seemed to sparkle in the dawn. It smelled of fresh leaves, flowers, damp earth, and green wood. When morning broke and when the sun set, the entire forest sounded a thousand voices, and from morning until evening the bees sang, the wasps hummed, and the bumblebees bumbled through the fragrant silence.

So were the first days of Bambi’s childhood.

He walked behind his mother along a narrow path that ran through the bushes. How calm it was to wander this path! The thick foliage gently caressed his sides and bent ever so slightly to the side. The path seemed to be blocked and barricaded tenfold in each direction. However, they were able to move through it with the most comfort. Such paths were everywhere; they ran here and there throughout the entire forest. His mother knew them all and when Bambi stood before dense undergrowth like an impassable green wall, his mother always found a spot where the path led on, without stopping and searching.

Bambi asked many questions. He loved to ask his mother questions. It was the most wonderful thing for him, asking questions and listening to his mother’s reply. Bambi was hardly astonished that he constantly and effortlessly thought of question after question. He found it to be quite natural; it delighted him so. It delighted him also to wait, curiously, until the answer came. Sometimes he admittedly did not understand her, but even that was lovely, as he could always keep asking questions if he wanted. Sometimes he did not continue asking, and that was also lovely, because he then busied himself imagining what he had not understood in his own way. Sometimes he felt quite sure that his mother did not offer him a full answer and kept some of her knowledge to herself. And even this was even more lovely, for it left him with an even more special curiosity—a clue that made him search secretly, an expectation that made him anxiously cheerful, so much so that he fell silent.

Now he asked, “Who does this path belong to, mother?”

His mother answered, “Us.”

Bambi continued, “You and I?”

“Yes.”

“Both of us?”

“Yes.”

“Just us?”

“No,” said his mother, “we deer …”

“What is deer?” asked Bambi and laughed.

His mother looked at him and laughed, too. “You are a deer, and I am a deer. That is what deer is. Do you understand?”

Bambi sprung into the air with laughter. “Yes, I understood that! I am a little deer and you are a big deer. Right?”

His mother nodded to him. “There you have it.”

Bambi became serious once more, “Are there other deer besides you and me?”

“Of course,” said his mother. “Many.”

“Where are they?” called Bambi.

“Here, everywhere.”

“But … I don’t see them.”

“You will see them soon.”

“When?” Bambi stood still, frozen with curiosity.

“Soon.” His mother continued on calmly.

Bambi followed her. He was silent, because he was pondering what that could mean, “soon”. He decided that “soon” was probably not the same as “right away” but close. But he could not decide on it—when does “soon” stop being “soon” and become “right away”? Suddenly, he asked, “Who made this path?”

“We did,” replied his mother.

Bambi looked astounded. “We? You and I?”

His mother said, “Well, we did … we deer.”

Bambi asked, “Who?”

“All of us,” his mother replied quickly.

She continued onwards. Bambi was amused and wanted to bound off the path here and there, but he refrained and stayed with his mother. There was a loud rustling ahead of them on the forest floor. Something was moving about, hidden by the fern fronds and leaves. A thin voice cried out pitifully, then it was silent. Then only the leaves and blades of grass quivered for a moment. A polecat had caught a mouse. He now scurried off in another direction to enjoy his meal.

“What was that?” asked Bambi alarmed.

“Nothing,” said his mother, calmly.

“But …” Bambi shivered, “but … I saw something there.”

“Well, yes,” said his mother, “don’t be frightened. The polecat just killed a mouse.”

But Bambi was terribly frightened. An unfamiliar and great fright gripped his heart. Many moments passed until he was able to speak again and then he asked, “Why did he kill the mouse?”

“Because …” His mother paused. “… let us go a bit faster now,” she said then, as if she had just remembered something and she had forgotten his question. She started off. Bambi bounded after her.

There was a long pause; they again walked calmly and quietly. Finally, Bambi asked uneasily, “Will we kill a mouse, too, someday?”

“No,” responded his mother.

“Never?” asked Bambi.

“Never ever,” was her answer.

“Why not?” asked Bambi relieved.

“Because we do not kill anyone,” said his mother simply.

Bambi was then cheerful again.

A loud shriek rang out from a small ash tree that stood next to the path. His mother continued on, paying it no notice. Curious Bambi, however, stopped in his tracks. Two roosters were quarreling about a nest they had looted in the branches above.

“Get lost! And never come back, you scoundrel!” called out one rooster to the other.

“Oh, don’t you get yourself worked up, you fool,” answered the other. “I am not afraid of you.”

The first provoked again, “Go find your own nest, you thief! Why I’ll crack your skull open!” He was outraged. “Such wickedness!” he bickered on, “such wickedness!”

The other noticed Bambi, fluttered and flew down a few branches and sneered at him, “And what are you looking at, you birdbrain? Get a move on!”

Aghast, Bambi bound off and quickly caught up to his mother who he then followed, well-behaved and startled, and thought that she might not have even noticed he was gone for a moment.

After some time, he inquired, “Mother … what is wickedness?”

His mother said, “I don’t know.”

Bambi considered this. Then he tried again. “Mother, why were those two so mean to each other?”

His mother answered, “They were quarreling over their food.”

Bambi asked, “Will we ever fight that way over our food?”

“No,” said his mother.

Bambi asked, “Why not?”

His mother responded, “There is enough for us all.”

Bambi wanted to know something else, “Mother … ?”

“What is it?”

“Will we ever be so mean to each other?”

“No, my child,” said his mother, “that is not how we are.”

She continued on. Suddenly, it became bright before them, glaringly bright. The green jumble of bushes and shrubs fell away. They took just a few more steps and came out into the expansive freedom that opened before them. Bambi had the urge to jump out into the vast openness, but his mother stood still.

“What is this?” he asked impatiently and with fascination.

“The meadow,” answered his mother.

“What is the meadow?” implored Bambi.

His mother cut his question short. “Soon you will find out for yourself.” She had become stern and attentive. Motionless, she stood with her head held high, listening closely and checking the wind as she breathed out slowly.

“It is safe,” she finally said, “we can go out.”

Bambi bound forward, but she blocked his way. “You must wait until I call you.” In an instant he became obediently silent and still.

“Very good,” praised his mother. “And now pay very close attention and remember what I tell you.” Bambi could hear the seriousness in his mother’s voice and it made him tense.

“It is not that simple to just walk out into the meadow,” his mother continued to explain. “It is a difficult and dangerous thing. Do not ask why. You will learn why some day. For now, just do exactly as I tell you. Will you?”

“Yes,” promised Bambi.

“Very well. I will go out alone first. You will stand here and wait. And always watch me, keep an eye on me constantly. If you see that I turn back, then you must turn and run from here as fast as you can. I will come and find you then.” She was silent as she seemed to consider what to say next and then urgently continued on, “No matter what, run, run as fast as you can. Run … even if something happens … even if you see that I … that I fall to the ground … you cannot stop for me, do you understand? Wh...

Table of contents

• FRONT COVER
• HALF-TITLE PAGE
• TITLE PAGE
• COPYRIGHT PAGE
• CONTENTS
• CHAPTER 1
• CHAPTER 2
• CHAPTER 3
• CHAPTER 4
• CHAPTER 5
• CHAPTER 6
• CHAPTER 7
• CHAPTER 8
• CHAPTER 9
• CHAPTER 10
• CHAPTER 11
• CHAPTER 12
• CHAPTER 13
• CHAPTER 14
• CHAPTER 15
• CHAPTER 16
• CHAPTER 17
• CHAPTER 18
• CHAPTER 19
• CHAPTER 20
• CHAPTER 21
• CHAPTER 22
• CHAPTER 23
• CHAPTER 24
• CHAPTER 25
• CHAPTER 26