"A lot of bees came with it; and once more Teddy Bear's head was in a
swarm of little darting, piercing flames. But his blood was up. He
held onto that chunk of bee tree. A big piece of comb, dripping with
honey and crawling with bees, was sticking to it. Whimpering and
pawing at his face, he crunched a great mouthful of the comb, bees and
all.
"Never had he tasted, never had he dreamed of, anything so delicious!
What was the pain of his smarting muzzle to that ecstatic mouthful? He
snatched another, which took all the rest of the comb. Then he flung
the piece of wood to the ground.
"The bees, meanwhile--except those which had stung him and were now
crawling, stingless and soon to die, in his fur--had suddenly left him.
The whole interior of their hive was exposed to the glare of daylight,
and their one thought now was to save all they could. Teddy Bear's one
thought was to seize all he could. He clawed himself around boldly to
the front of the tree, plunged one greedy paw straight into the heart
of the hive, snatched forth a big, dripping, crawling comb, and fell to
munching it up as fast as possible--honey, bees, brood-comb, bee-bread,
all together indiscriminately. The distracted bees paid him no more
attention.
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