Piglet Surrounded by Water

It was raining in the Hundred Acre Wood. Not just a little rain. A lot of rain. It rained and it rained and it rained.

Piglet stood at the window of his home in the big beech tree and watched. Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip. The puddles became streams. The streams became rivers. And the river got bigger and bigger and bigger until water was everywhere.

Piglet was all alone.

"I wish I were at Pooh's house," he said with a sigh. "Then we could say, 'Did you ever see so much rain, Pooh?' and Pooh would say, 'Isn't it awful, Piglet?' It is so much more friendly with two."

But he was not with Pooh. He was by himself, in his very small house, and the water was rising.

"Oh, d-d-dear," said Piglet. "It is a worrying thing to be a Very Small Animal Entirely Surrounded by Water. Christopher Robin could climb a tree. Kanga could jump. Rabbit could dig. Owl could fly. But what can I do? I can't do anything!"

Every day the water got a little higher. Now it was nearly up to his window.

Then Piglet remembered a story. A story about someone on a little island, far away, who wrote a message and put it in a bottle and threw it into the sea. And someone found it and came to help!

Piglet searched the dry parts of his house and found a pencil and a small piece of paper. He found a bottle with a cork.

On one side of the paper, he wrote, "Help! Piglet, that's me!"

And on the other side, he wrote, "It's me, Piglet! Help, help!"

He put the paper in the bottle. He pushed the cork in tight.

He leaned out of his window as far as he could lean without falling in, and he threw the bottle as far as he could throw.

Splash!

The bottle bobbed up on the water and floated slowly, slowly away. Piglet watched it until he could not see it anymore.

"Now," he said quietly, "somebody else will have to do something. I hope they do it soon."

Now, over at Pooh's house, under the name of Sanders, Pooh was asleep. He had had a very tiring sort of day. It rained and it rained, and he slept and he slept.

Then he had a dream. A cold, wet dream. And something was nibbling his feet! He woke up with an "Ow!" and looked down.

His feet were in the water. Water was all around his chair!

Sploosh, sploosh, sploosh. He splashed to his door and looked out.

"This is serious," said Pooh. "I must escape."

So he took his biggest pot of honey and carried it up to a wide branch of his tree, high above the water. Then he climbed down and got another pot. And another. And another. Until all ten of his pots of honey were safe on the branch with him.

Pooh sat on the branch. He dangled his legs. He looked at his ten pots of honey.

Two days later, Pooh sat on his branch. He had four pots of honey.

Three days later, he had one pot of honey.

Four days later, he had no pots of honey at all.

And it was on the morning of that fourth day that a little bottle came floating past his tree.

"Honey!" cried Pooh. He jumped into the water. Splash! He grabbed the bottle and scrambled back up to his branch.

He opened it. "Bother," he said. "All that wet for nothing."

He pulled out the piece of paper. "It's a message! And look, that letter is a P. And that one is a P too. P means Pooh, so this must be a very important message for me."

He looked at it and looked at it. "But I can't read it," he said. "I must take it to Christopher Robin. Only I can't swim. Bother!"

Then Pooh had an idea. And for a Bear of Very Little Brain, it was a very good idea.

"If a bottle can float," he said slowly, "then a jar can float. And if a jar can float, and it is a very big jar, then maybe I can sit on top of it."

So he took his very biggest empty honey pot and put the cork in tight. "All boats need a name," he said. "I shall call mine The Floating Bear."

Plop! He dropped the pot into the water and jumped in after it.

For a little while, Pooh and The Floating Bear were not quite sure which one was supposed to be on top. Splish, splash, splutter. But after a bit of trying, they figured it out. The pot went underneath, and Pooh sat on top, paddling with his feet.

Off he went, humming a little paddling-hum to himself.

Now, Christopher Robin lived at the very top of the Wood, so the water could not reach his house. Every morning he went out with his umbrella and looked at how high the water had come.

On the fifth morning, the water was all around him. He was on an island!

Owl came flying over the water to visit.

"Isn't this exciting, Owl?" said Christopher Robin. "I'm on an island!"

"Well," said Owl, clearing his throat importantly, "it has been raining a great deal."

"Yes," said Christopher Robin. "It has. Owl, have you seen Pooh? And Piglet? Will you go and check on them, please?"

"Of course," said Owl, and off he flew.

In a little while Owl was back. "Pooh is not at his house," he announced. "He was sitting on a branch, but now he is gone."

"Oh, Pooh!" cried Christopher Robin. "Where are you?"

"Here I am," said a growly voice right behind him.

"Pooh!"

They ran to each other and hugged and hugged.

"How did you get here?" asked Christopher Robin.

"On my boat," said Pooh proudly. "And I brought a very important message. I couldn't read it because I got water in my eyes. So I brought it to you."

Christopher Robin read the little piece of paper. "Pooh, it's from Piglet! He needs help! We have to rescue him right away!"

"Oh," said Pooh. "I thought those P's were for Pooh. Are they for Piglet?"

Christopher Robin sent Owl to fly to Piglet and tell him that rescue was coming. Then he looked at Pooh's boat, The Floating Bear.

"It's too small for two of us," said Christopher Robin sadly. "And we need to fit Piglet, too."

"Three of us," said Pooh. "That makes it even smaller."

"Oh, Pooh Bear, what shall we do?"

And then Pooh, dear Pooh, had the cleverest idea he had ever had in his whole life.

"We could go in your umbrella," said Pooh.

Christopher Robin stared at him. He looked at his umbrella. He looked at the water. He looked back at Pooh. "Oh, Pooh," he said, smiling. "Silly old Bear."

Then his face lit up, because Pooh was right!

Christopher Robin opened his umbrella and set it in the water, pointy end down. It floated! It wobbled a little, but when they both climbed in, it steadied right up. A perfect boat.

"I shall call this boat The Brain of Pooh," said Christopher Robin.

And off they sailed, turning gently round and round on the water, to rescue their friend.

Can you imagine how happy Piglet was when he saw them coming? The umbrella-boat, turning slowly, with Christopher Robin and Pooh inside, sailing right to his window.

They scooped Piglet up, and there they were, all three together. Safe and sound and not alone anymore.

"Oh, Pooh! Oh, Christopher Robin!" squeaked Piglet, wiggling with relief. "I am so glad to see you."

Pooh patted his tummy. "Sailing is hungry work," he said. "Christopher Robin," he asked, "do you suppose umbrellas ever have a little something in them? Just in case?"