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 at his own ears and face as well as
at the air, now thick with his assailants. The terrific hum they made
somewhat daunted him. For a few seconds he stood his ground, battling
frantically. Then, with an agility that you would never have dreamed
his chubby form to be capable of, he went swinging down from branch to
branch, whining and coughing and spluttering and squealing all the way.
From the lowest branch he slid down the trunk, his claws tearing the
bark and just clinging enough to break his fall.
"Reaching the ground, he began to roll himself over and over in the dry
leaves and twigs till he had crushed out all the bees that clung in his
fur."
"But why didn't the rest of the bees follow him? They followed this
other bear to-day!" protested the Babe feelingly.
"Well, they didn't!" returned Uncle Andy quite shortly, with his
customary objection to being interrupted. Then he thought better of
it, and added amiably: "That's a sensible question--a very natural
question; and I'll give you the answer to it in half a minute.
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