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,