“That tree must have been hollow a long way down, for almost as soon as Teddy Bear’s claws began to rattle on the bark the bees suspected trouble and began to get excited.  When he was not much more than halfway up, and hanging to the rough bark with all his claws, biff!—­something sharp and very hot struck him in the nose.  He grunted, and almost let go in his surprise.  Naturally, he wanted to paw his nose—­for you know how it smarted!”

“I guess so!” murmured the Babe in deepest sympathy, stroking the patch of mud on his ear.

“But that cub had naturally a level head.  He knew that if he let go with even one paw he would fall to the ground, because the trunk of the tree at that point was so big he could not get a good hold upon it.  So he just dug his smarting nose into the bark and clawed himself around to the other side of the tree, where the branches that were still green sheltered him a bit, and there was a thick shadow from the nearest fir tree, whose boughs interwove with those of the maple.  Here the bees didn’t seem to notice him.  He kept very still, listening to their angry buzz till it had somewhat quieted down.  Then, instead of going about it with a noisy dash, as he had done before, he worked his way up stealthily and slowly till he could crawl into the crotch of the first branch.  You see, that bear could learn a lesson.

“Presently he stuck his nose around to see how near he was to the bees’ hole.  He had just time to locate it—­about seven or eight feet above him—­when again biff!  And he was stung on the lip.  He drew in his head again quick, I can tell you—­quick enough to catch that bee and smash it.  He ate it, indignantly.  And then he lay curled up in the crotch for some minutes, gently pawing his sore little snout and whimpering angrily.

“The warm, sweet smell of the honey was very strong up there.  And, moreover, Teddy Bear’s temper was now thoroughly aroused.  Most cubs, and some older bears, would have relinquished the adventure at this point, for, as a rule, it takes a wise old bear to handle a bee tree successfully.  But Teddy Bear was no ordinary cub, let me tell you.  He lay nursing his anger and his nose till he had made up his mind what to do.  And then he set out to do it.

“Hauling himself up softly from branch to branch, he made no more noise than a shadow.  As soon as he was right behind the bees’ hole he reached around, dug his claws into the edge of it, and pulled with all his might.  The edges were rotten, and a pawful of old wood came.  So did the bees!

“They were onto him in a second.  He grunted furiously, screwed his eyes up tight, tucked his muzzle down under his left arm—­which was busy holding on—­and reached around blindly for another pull.  This time he got a good grip, and he could feel something give.  But the fiery torture was too much for him.  He drew in his paw, crouched back into the crotch, and cuffed wildly