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away, slowly and timidly at first, then faster and faster. Presently he was running with wild leaps.

Bambi looked after him. “Without so much as a thank you,” he exclaimed in surprise.

“He’s still terrified,” said the old stag.

The noose lay on the ground. Bambi touched it gently. It creaked, terrifying Bambi. That was a sound such as he had never heard in the woods.

“He?” asked Bambi softly.

The old stag nodded.

They walked on together in silence. “Take care when you’re going along a trail,” said the old stag, “test all the branches. Prod them on all sides of you with your antlers. And turn back at once if you hear that creak. And when you’ve shed your antlers be doubly cautious. I never use trails any more.”

Bambi sank into troubled thought.

“He isn’t here,” he whispered to himself in profound astonishment.

“No, He’s not in the forest now,” the old stag answered.

“And yet He is here,” said Bambi shaking his head.