Pooh and the Honey Bees

CHAPTER I

In Which We Are Introduced to Winnie-the-Pooh and Some Bees, and the Stories Begin

Winnie-the-Pooh lived in a cozy house, deep in the Hundred Acre Wood. One sunny morning, he went for a walk. He walked and he walked, until he came to a clearing. In the very middle of the clearing stood a great, big oak tree.

From the top of the tree came a loud sound. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Pooh sat down at the bottom of the tree. He put his head between his paws, and he began to think. He thought to himself, that buzzing noise means something. You don't hear a buzz-buzz-buzz without it meaning something. And the only thing I know that buzzes like that... is a bee!

He thought a little longer. And the only reason for bees to be buzzing... is to make honey!

Then Pooh stood up. And the only reason to make honey... is so I can eat it! A happy smile spread across his face. And so, he began to climb the tree.

He climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed. As he climbed, he sang a little song. "Isn't it funny, how a bear likes honey? Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! I wonder why he does?"

He climbed a little higher... and a little higher... and just a little bit higher. He was getting tired now. So he sang a little Complaining Song. "It's a very funny thought that, if bears were bees, they'd build their nests at the bottom of trees."

He was almost there! He just needed to stand on one more little branch...

CRACK!

The branch broke! Down, down, down Pooh tumbled. He bumped on a branch below. Boing! He bounced to another branch. Boof! He tumbled and tumbled, head over fluffy paws, until he landed, thump, in a big, prickly bush.

"Oof! Oh, bother," said Pooh. He crawled out of the bush and brushed the prickles from his nose. Then he began to think again. And the first person he thought of was his best friend, Christopher Robin.

So, Winnie-the-Pooh walked through the wood until he came to a green door. This was where his friend Christopher Robin lived.

"Good morning, Christopher Robin!" said Pooh.

"Good morning, Winnie-the-Pooh," said Christopher Robin.

"I was wondering," said Pooh. "Do you have such a thing as a balloon?"

"A balloon? What do you want a balloon for?"

Pooh looked all around to make sure no one was listening. He put a paw next to his mouth and whispered a secret word. "Honey!"

"But you don't get honey with a balloon!" said Christopher Robin.

"I do," said Pooh, nodding his head.

Well, it just so happened that Christopher Robin did have some balloons. He had a big green one, and a big blue one.

"Which one would you like?" he asked Pooh.

Pooh put his head between his paws and thought very, very carefully. "When you go to get honey," he explained, "you don't want the bees to see you. If I have a green balloon, they might think I'm part of the tree. But if I have a blue balloon, they might think I am just a piece of the sky."

"Wouldn't they see you, underneath the balloon?" asked Christopher Robin.

"They might, or they might not," said Pooh. "You never can tell with bees. I will try to look like a small, black cloud. That will trick them!"

"Then you had better have the blue balloon," said Christopher Robin.

So Pooh and Christopher Robin went out with the big blue balloon. Pooh found a very muddy puddle. He rolled and he rolled, until he was covered in mud from his nose to his toes. Now he looked like a little black rain cloud.

Christopher Robin blew up the balloon, big and round. They both held onto the string. Then, Christopher Robin let go! Up, up, up floated Pooh Bear, into the sky. He stopped right next to the top of the big oak tree.

"Hooray!" shouted Christopher Robin.

"Isn't this wonderful?" shouted Pooh from high in the air. "What do I look like?"

"You look like a bear holding onto a balloon," Christopher Robin called back.

"Not... not like a small, black cloud in a blue sky?" asked Pooh.

"Not very much," said Christopher Robin.

"Oh, well," said Pooh. "Maybe it looks different from up here."

Pooh could see the honey. He could smell the yummy, sweet honey. But he just couldn't reach it. After a little while, he called down in a loud whisper. "Christopher Robin! I think the bees know something is wrong!"

"What do you think they know?"

"I don't know," said Pooh. "But they are acting very suspicious! Maybe they think you're after their honey."

"It may be that," Pooh said sadly. "You never can tell with bees."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he called down again. "Christopher Robin! Do you have an umbrella?"

"I think so," said Christopher Robin.

"Please bring it here! And walk up and down with it. And look up at me and say, Tut-tut, it looks like rain. That will help trick the bees!"

Christopher Robin laughed to himself. Silly old Bear! But he went home to get his umbrella.

When he came back, Pooh called, "Oh, good! The bees are definitely suspicious now."

"Shall I put my umbrella up?" asked Christopher Robin.

"Yes!" he said. "Walk up and down and say, Tut-tut, it looks like rain. And I will sing a little cloud song."

So Christopher Robin walked back and forth with his umbrella open. And Pooh began to sing. "How sweet to be a cloud, floating in the blue! Every little cloud always sings aloud."

But the bees kept buzzing. A few of them flew right up to Pooh. One little bee even landed on his nose for a moment, and then flew away.

"Christopher... ow!... Robin!" called Pooh.

"Yes?"

"I have been thinking. These are the wrong sort of bees."

"They are?"

"Yes. So they probably make the wrong sort of honey. I think I shall come down now."

"How?" asked Christopher Robin.

Pooh hadn't thought of that. If he let go, he would fall all the way down. Bump! He did not like that idea. He thought and thought. Then he said, "Christopher Robin, you must pop the balloon with your toy gun."

"But if I do that, it will break the balloon," said Christopher Robin.

"But if you don't," said Pooh, "I will have to let go. And that would break me!"

So Christopher Robin aimed his toy gun very carefully at the balloon.

Pop!

"Ow!" said Pooh.

"Did I miss?" asked Christopher Robin.

"You didn't miss me," said Pooh. "But you missed the balloon."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" said Christopher Robin. He aimed again, very, very carefully.

POP!

This time, he hit the balloon! The air came out with a soft whoosh, and Winnie-the-Pooh floated gently, gently, down to the ground.

But oh, my! Pooh's arms were very tired from holding the string for so long. For a whole week, his arms stayed stretched up high in the air! They wouldn't come down. And if a little fly came and tickled his nose, he had to go Pffffft! and blow it away.