A few mornings later, before the sun was up, Father Bear and Bobby were at the bee tree.

They had brought with them the large brown jar which Father Bear had bought for Mother Bear, as he had promised her he would do. In order to get the jar he had had to make a special trip to the store.

There was really no need for Father Bear to have gone into town, as the bear family had sufficient groceries to last another week, but Bobby had urged his father so strongly to go and get the honey, that he had made a special trip to town just to buy the jar.

It surely was a big, brown jar, much bigger than the one that was broken. Bobby tried to carry it, but it was too heavy for his little arms.

"How will you manage today, father? I can't reach the jar up to you, it's too heavy. You will have to get the honey all alone."

"That's all right, my boy. I could have done that yesterday just as well as not. But I wanted to see what kind of a little helper my Bobby was."

Father Bear started up the tree. Bobby watched him climb. He was very proud of his great, strong father. Bobby wondered when he would be big enough and strong enough to go after honey alone.

It was quite a distance from the ground to where the bees were, and for some time the bees did not see Father Bear.

When his great, shaggy head appeared in front of their house the bees were very angry, and buzzed around making a very loud noise.

"Father, father," cried Bobby, "be careful, they'll sting you. Remember what you told me about what bees do to little bears."

"Don't fear for me, Bobby. My skin is tough and no bee can possibly hurt me. Just watch so that you will know how to get the honey when you grow into a big, strong bear."

Father Bear thrust the sharp claws of his two powerful feet into the tree. He pressed the jar against the trunk, holding himself firmly by his left hand.

Then with a great blow of his other arm he scattered the bees right and left. They roared louder than ever and thousands of them flew around.

Such a great, black cloud was in front of Father Bear's face that Bobby Bear could hardly see him. This time, however, he did not call out, for he had faith in his father and knew that he would get the honey and reach the ground unharmed.

A strong east wind was blowing which helped Father Bear somewhat, as it was hard for the bees to keep on the wing against such a wind. When it blew stronger than ever Bobby saw his father thrust a great paw into the black hole in the tree. Great masses of golden, yellow honey were put quickly into the jar. Again and again father put in his hand just as though no bees were around at all.

In fact Father Bear was actually laughing at the bees, so little was he bothered by their angry attack.

"Are you there, my boy?" he called, looking down.

"Yes, father, I'm here," cheerily answered little Bobby.

"All right then, I'm coming down and I have such a feast of honey in this jar that it will make your mouth water."

In a moment or two he reached the ground and Bobby saw such a sight as he looked into the jar that his eyes opened wide as saucers.

"My goodness, what a lot of honey! I don't know how you managed to carry it. Why, even the empty jar was too much for me."

"Yes, my boy," his father answered, "but you must remember you are only a little fellow. Nobody expects little Bobby Bears to do the things that big bears can do."

"May I eat a little of the honey, or must I wait till I get home?" asked Bobby.

"No, go ahead and dip your hand in the jar. There's plenty of it."

Bobby did so and began to eat. "Yum, yum, this is ever so much better honey than what uncle brought. This is fine and sweet."

Just at this moment his father uttered a cry of warning.

"Run, my boy, as fast as you can. Here come the bees! I'll look after the honey."

Father Bear knew he could not keep the bees from stinging Bobby whose skin was soft and tender. They couldn't hurt an old bear like himself, as his skin was tough. That's why he told Bobby to run on ahead. He thought he would fool the bees. They would all stop and buzz around him and forget to follow Bobby.

Little Bobby ran as fast as he could. Most of the bees stopped near Father Bear, but a few caught up with Bobby and gave him a sting or two.

Soon, however, Father Bear drove the bees away with a great branch of a tree. Then he hurried and caught up with Bobby and together they ran as fast as the wind. Soon they reached home safely with their great jar of delicious honey.

When Father Bear told of their adventure, Mother Bear was anxious.

"Didn't my little boy get stung by the bees?" she asked Bobby.

"Oh," he replied, "one or two did bite me in the face. But it doesn't hurt much." Bobby was brave, you see, and had been taught not to complain about trifles.

"Still, you had better let me put something on the stings," said his mother, "or else they might grow worse." So she brought some bear-liniment and rubbed it on the bites.