COPYRIGHT, 1928, BY
SIMON AND SCHUSTER, INC.
37 WEST 57 ST., NEW YORK
all rights reserved
First Printing in America, July 1928
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA BY
ABBOTT PRESS & MORTIMER-WALLING, INC., NEW YORK, N.Y.
TRANSLATED BY
WHITTAKER CHAMBERS
ILLUSTRATIONS BY
KURT WIESE
FOREWORD
BAMBI is a delicious book. For delicacy of perception and essential truth I hardly know any story of animals that can stand beside this life study of a forest deer. Felix Salten is a poet. He feels nature deeply, and he loves animals. I do not, as a rule, like the method which places human words in the mouths of dumb creatures, and it is the triumph of this book that, behind the conversation, one feels the real sensations of the creatures who speak. Clear and illuminating, and in places very moving, it is a little masterpiece.
I read it in galley proof on the way from Paris to Calais, before a channel crossing. As I finished each sheet I handed it to my wife, who read, and handed it to my nephew’s wife, who read, and handed it to my nephew. For three hours the four of us read thus in silent absorption. Those who know what it is to read books in galley proof, and have experienced channel crossings, will realize that few books will stand such a test. BAMBI is one of them. I particularly recommend it to sportsmen.
March 16th, 1928 JOHN GALSWORTHY
Illustrations
Bambi saw two fawns standing side by side.
He stood there, swaying unsteadily on his thin legs.
Overhead two jays were quarreling. “What vulgarity!” he chattered, “what vulgarity!”
The leaves fall slowly.
There sat the Hare looking like a very honest creature.
The squirrel sat up, balancing himself with his handsome upright tail.
It took Bambi’s breath away to see them.
The old stag kept gazing at him.
“Have I changed much?” asked the second leaf, shyly but determinedly.
Bambi had to paw the snow away with endless labor before he could find one withered little blade of grass.
Bambi was hardly aware that he had begun to run again.
“Excuse me,” said the woodpecker, “but I always have to laugh when I see you deer acting like that.”
At last Bambi caught up with her and barred the way.
The stag immediately lifted his head and looked at him.
The old stag advanced slowly and Bambi followed him.
“Faline, sister, you knew me anyway.” Gobo went to her and kissed her mouth.
The dogs found me.”
Marena was quiet and serious and gentler than any of the others.
“Did I frighten you?” asked the owl.
Gobo would stand with perfect peace of mind in the bright sunshine on the meadow.
The ducks talked endlessly to one another in a friendly, serious, capable way.
Bambi lay on the warm earth with the mouldering bark of the fallen tree above him.
“My beautiful old oak, do you remember it? It was awful. He chopped it down!”
The fox came springing, crouching and slinking. A little, short-legged hound was after him.
The pheasants, swooping down from their roosts, would stand in one spot.
Two fawns were standing side by side, in their little red coats.
