Bambi began spending more time with the old stag. His teacher showed him snares hidden on trails and once used an antler to free Friend Hare from a wire noose.
“He can leave danger behind even when He is gone,” the old stag said.
One autumn morning, a call floated through the trees in Faline’s voice.
“Come, Bambi. Come.”
Bambi turned eagerly, but the old stag blocked his path. Together they crept downwind until Bambi saw a man hidden beside an oak, making the call himself. The two deer slipped away unseen.
Winter returned. During a great hunt, a shot struck Bambi’s shoulder. He fell, but the old stag forced him to rise.
“You must not lie here. Follow me.”
The stag led him in wide circles, crossing and recrossing his own bloody trail until the hunter and dog went the wrong way. He found bitter leaves that slowed the bleeding and guided Bambi to a hidden hollow.
There Bambi recovered. By the next spring, he moved with the same silent care he had once admired.
One day the old stag showed him a man lying motionless after an accident in the forest.
“Do you see, Bambi?” he asked. “He is not all-powerful. There is Another over us all.”
Not long afterwards, the old stag grew weak. He led Bambi to his deepest resting place and said, “Do not follow me farther. My time is finished.” They stood together quietly before Bambi turned away.
Seasons passed. Bambi lived alone in the old stag’s part of the forest. One morning he met twin fawns quivering beside a path. He guided them towards their mother, then paused.
The little male stared after him with wide eyes, just as Bambi had once stared at the great old prince.
Bambi stepped between the trees. His antlers brushed the leaves, but his hoofsteps made no sound.
Behind him, the twins found their mother. Ahead, the deep forest opened in paths that only its oldest prince had known—and that Bambi now knew too.
The End