Suddenly Faline cried out loudly and joyfully, “I know what danger is—it’s what you run away from.” She sprang away. She couldn’t bear to stay there any longer and be frightened. In an instant, Bambi and Gobo had bounded after her. They began to play again. They tumbled in the rustling, silky green meadow grass, and in a twinkling had forgotten all about the absorbing question. After a while they stopped and stood chattering together as before. They looked towards their mothers. They were standing close together, eating a little and carrying on a quiet conversation. Aunt Ena raised her head and called the children. “Come, Gobo. Come, Faline. We have to go now.” And Bambi’s mother said to him, “Come, it’s time to go.” “Wait just a little longer,” Faline pleaded eagerly, “just a little while.” “Let’s stay a little longer, please,” Bambi pleaded, “it’s so nice.” And Gobo repeated timidly, “It’s so nice, just a little longer.” All three spoke at once. Ena looked at Bambi’s mother. “What did I tell you,” she said, “they won’t want to separate now.” Then something happened that was much more exciting than everything else that happened to Bambi that day. Out of the woods came the sound of hoofs beating the earth. Branches snapped, the boughs rustled, and before Bambi had time to listen, something burst out of the thicket. Someone came crashing and rustling with someone else rushing after him. They tore by like the wind, described a wide circle on the meadow and vanished into the woods again, where they could be heard galloping. Then they came bursting out of the thicket again and suddenly stood still, about twenty paces apart. Bambi looked at them and did not stir. They looked like his mother and Aunt Ena. But their heads were crowned with gleaming antlers covered with brown beads and bright white prongs. Bambi was completely overcome. He looked from one to the other. One was smaller and his antlers narrower. But the other one was stately and beautiful. He carried his head up and his antlers rose high above it. They flashed from dark to light, adorned with the splendor of many black and brown prongs. “O,” cried Faline in admiration. “O,” Gobo repeated softly. But Bambi said nothing. He was entranced and silent. Then they both moved and, turning away from each other, walked slowly back into the woods in opposite directions. The stately stag passed close to the children and Bambi’s mother and Aunt Ena. He passed by in silent splendor, holding his noble head royally high and honoring no one with so much as a glance. The children did not dare to breathe till he had disappeared into the thicket. They turned to look after the other one, but at that very moment the green door of the forest closed on him. Faline was the first to break the silence. “Who were they?” she cried. But her pert little voice trembled. “Who were they?” Gobo repeated in a hardly audible voice. Bambi kept silent. Aunt Ena said solemnly, “Those were your fathers.”