The forest is a whole different world…Felix Salten’s classic story of wild and tame animals coming together is brought vividly to life in this refreshed edition, ideal for collecting. To the animals of Lodge Farm, the woods are a forbidden place filled with danger and uncertainty. For the wild animals in the forest, the farm is just as frightening, because Man lives there. The two worlds are next to one another, but couldn’t be further apart. When the groups, tame and wild, begin to interact, each begins to question how life would be different on the other side. Manni the donkey ventures into the forest for an adventure, while a doe and her two fawns seek the safety of the barn when poachers threaten them in the woods. Will the animals choose to stay in their new lives? Or will the call of home be too great? Felix Salten (1869–1945) was an Austrian author and critic in Vienna. His most famous work is Bambi . Forest World Chapter 1 WHEN THE SUN APPEARED the blackbird began to sing. He was only a dark speck on the topmost branch of a tall and sturdy oak. Yet his singing floated through the forest and spread good cheer like a joyful reveille. Pheasants, beating their wings loudly, swung down from their sleeping-trees. Their sharp clucks rang clear and metallic in the morning air. The woodpecker started his gay drumming, the magpies began their chattering and the titmice whispered softly in the underbrush. The golden ball of the sun rose into the sky that was now turning a pale blue. Perri the squirrel popped out of her nest. Waving her fire-red tail, she hurried from branch to branch. Then suddenly she sat still to listen to a blackbird. He sang on melodiously, his voice a delicate fluting that rose again and again in fresh cascades of song. Even the roes lifted their heads to hear his carol. For them it meant that food, till now so sparse, would soon sprout in abundance. Tufts of their winter-bleached fur peeled off on the hawthorn, mulberry and hazel bushes as they slipped into the thicket. At the forest’s edge crouched a hare, pricking up first one ear, then the other. He peered about him, worried, frightened; both ears pointed yearningly across the little meadow. Mistrustful, he did not dare come out into the open, for the hares were always afraid. At night they feared the murderous claws of the owl, by day the hawk and the buzzard. Both night and day they fled from the stalking fox and the small but even more bloodthirsty weasel. In the thicket, free of all fear, Tambo the great deer paused on his way to the bed where he rested during the day. For a short time he gave himself up to enjoying the birds’ song, for he, too, longed for spring. He, too, sensed the encouraging approach of warmer days. The first growth of his antlers stirred a gentle fever in his blood. A pair of young does had made loud frightened sounds when he had first appeared. Tambo watched them scamper off, and felt annoyed by their timidity, as he always did. He shook his head in bewilderment and with noiseless steps went along the path worn through the forest by his ancestors. Suddenly, not far from the trail, the leafless branches of a sapling quaked. Tambo stopped for a cautious look. He saw a strong roebuck, already wearing his red summer coat. From the tips of his antlers the skin cover he was shedding hung in tatters. Strips of bark flew down from a young spruce and the bared wood shone white as the roebuck polished his horns. Tambo watched him with approval and thought, “That fellow’s all right. He’s got sense. I’ll go talk with him. We’ll be friends.” But he had hardly taken a step when the roebuck gave a cry of fright, then leaped aside angrily and broke away through the brushes. Tambo’s large, kind eyes grew dark and sad. “No use! They won’t have anything to do with me!” He continued on his way to the hollow which was his sleeping place. A heavy thicket fenced it in. He let himself down slowly. Hardly a movement of the bushes betrayed his presence. Perri came and whispered, “Rest easy. I’ll be on watch.” The magpie flew to him and balanced on a branch, promising, “I’ll report even the slightest danger.” Tambo nodded gratefully. He knew he could count on his sentries. He would have liked to talk with the lively squirrel and the wise magpie about how shy the roes were toward him. He had often been at the point of mentioning this coolness, which he could not understand. He wanted an explanation very badly. Yet he could never bring himself to talk about it. He was ashamed because they seemed to shun him. Gently he laid his head on the ground, moved his chin back and forth several times and then fell asleep. The sun warmed the forest, gradually drank up the dew that sparkled like a million diamonds, and summoned all life to renewal. In answer the grass sprouted with vigor, violets opened their dark blue eyes, lilies of the valley awoke and moved their leaves like long listening ears. Ants sc