Winnie the Pooh (17 page)

For a little while Pooh and
The Floating Bear
were uncertain as to which of them was meant to be on the top, but after trying one or two different positions, they settled down with
The Floating Bear
underneath and Pooh triumphantly astride it, paddling vigorously with his feet.

Christopher Robin lived at the very top of the Forest. It rained, and it rained, and it rained, but the water couldn’t come up to
his
house. It was rather jolly to look down into the valleys and see the water all round him, but it rained so hard that he stayed indoors most of the time, and thought about things. Every morning he went out with his umbrella and put a stick in the place where the water came up to, and every next morning he went out and couldn’t see his stick any more, so he put another stick in the place where the water came up to, and then he walked home again, and each morning he had a shorter way to walk than he had had the morning before. On the morning of the fifth day he saw the water all round him, and knew that for the first time in his life he was on a real island. Which was very exciting.

It was on this morning that Owl came flying over the water to say “How do you do,” to his friend Christopher Robin.

“I say, Owl,” said Christopher Robin, “isn’t this fun? I’m on an island!”

“The atmospheric conditions have been very unfavourable lately,” said Owl.

“The what?”

“It has been raining,” explained Owl.

“Yes,” said Christopher Robin. “It has.”

“The flood-level has reached an unprecedented height.”

“The who?”

“There’s a lot of water about,” explained Owl.

“Yes,” said Christopher Robin, “there is.”

“However, the prospects are rapidly becoming more favourable. At any moment—”

“Have you seen Pooh?”

“No. At any moment—”

“I hope he’s all right,” said Christopher Robin. “I’ve been wondering about him. I expect Piglet’s with him. Do you think they’re all right, Owl?”

“I expect so. You see, at any moment—”

“Do go and see, Owl. Because Pooh hasn’t got very much brain, and he might do something silly, and I do love him so, Owl. Do you see, Owl?”

“That’s all right,” said Owl. “I’ll go. Back directly.” And he flew off.

In a little while he was back again.

“Pooh isn’t there,” he said.

“Not there?”

“Has
been
there. He’s been sitting on a branch of his tree outside his house with nine pots of honey. But he isn’t there now.”

“Oh, Pooh!” cried Christopher Robin. “Where
are
you?”

“Here I am,” said a growly voice behind him.

“Pooh!”

They rushed into each other’s arms.

“How did you get here, Pooh?” asked Christopher Robin, when he was ready to talk again.

“On my boat,” said Pooh proudly. “I had a Very Important Missage sent me in a bottle, and owing to having got some water in my eyes, I couldn’t read it, so I brought it to you. On my boat.”

With these proud words he gave Christopher Robin the missage.

“But it’s from Piglet!” cried Christopher Robin when he had read it.

“Isn’t there anything about Pooh in it?” asked Bear, looking over his shoulder.

Christopher Robin read the message aloud.

“Oh, are those ‘P’s’ Piglets? I thought they were Poohs.”

“We must rescue him at once! I thought he was with
you
, Pooh. Owl, could you rescue him on your back?”

“I don’t think so,” said Owl, after grave thought. “It is doubtful if the necessary dorsal muscles—”

“Then would you fly to him at
once
and say that Rescue is Coming? And Pooh and I will think of a Rescue and come as quick as ever we can. Oh, don’t
talk
, Owl, go on quick!” And, still thinking of something to say, Owl flew off.

“Now then, Pooh,” said Christopher Robin, “where’s your boat?”

“I ought to say,” explained Pooh as they walked down to the shore of the island, “that it isn’t just an ordinary sort of boat. Sometimes it’s a Boat, and sometimes it’s more of an Accident. It all depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“On whether I’m on the top of it or underneath it.”

“Oh! Well, where is it?”

“There!” said Pooh, pointing proudly to
The Floating Bear
.

It wasn’t what Christopher Robin expected, and the more he looked at it, the more he thought what a Brave and Clever Bear Pooh was, and the more Christopher Robin thought this, the more Pooh looked modestly down his nose and tried to pretend he wasn’t.

“But it’s too small for two of us,” said Christopher Robin sadly.

“Three of us with Piglet.”

“That makes it smaller still. Oh, Pooh Bear, what shall we do?”

And then this Bear, Pooh Bear, Winnie-the-Pooh, F.O.P. (Friend of Piglet’s), R.C. (Rabbit’s Companion), P.D. (Pole Discoverer), E.C. and T.F. (Eeyore’s Comforter and Tail-finder)—in fact, Pooh himself—said something so clever that Christopher Robin could only look at him with mouth open and eyes staring, wondering if this was really the Bear of Very Little Brain whom he had known and loved so long.

“We might go in your umbrella,” said Pooh.

“?”

“We might go in your umbrella,” said Pooh.

“??”

“We might go in your umbrella,” said Pooh.

“! ! ! ! ! !”

For suddenly Christopher Robin saw that they might. He opened his umbrella and put it point downwards in the water. It floated but wobbled. Pooh got in. He was just beginning to say that it was all right now, when he found that it wasn’t, so after a short drink which he didn’t really want he waded back to Christopher Robin. Then they both got in together, and it wobbled no longer.

“I shall call this boat
The Brain of Pooh
,” said Christopher Robin, and
The Brain of Pooh
set sail forthwith in a south-westerly direction, revolving gracefully.

You can imagine Piglet’s joy when at last the ship came in sight of him. In after-years he liked to think that he had been in Very Great Danger during the Terrible Flood, but the only danger he had really been in was in the last half-hour of his imprisonment, when Owl, who had just flown up, sat on a branch of his tree to comfort him, and told him a very long story about an aunt who had once laid a seagull’s egg by mistake, and the story went on and on, rather like this sentence, until Piglet who was listening out of his window without much hope, went to sleep quietly and naturally, slipping slowly out of the window towards the water until he was only hanging on by his toes, at which moment luckily, a sudden loud squawk from Owl, which was really part of the story, being what his aunt said, woke the Piglet up and just gave him time to jerk himself back into safety and say, “How interesting, and did she?” when—well, you can imagine his joy when at last he saw the good ship,
The Brain of Pooh (Captain
, C. Robin;
1st Mate
, P. Bear) coming over the sea to rescue him.

And that is really the end of the story, and as I am very tired after that last sentence, I think I shall stop there.

Chapter Ten

IN WHICH

Christopher Robin Gives Pooh a Party, and We Say Good-bye