Once upon a time, deep in the heart of a green, whispering forest, there lived a very big and very soft brown bear named Barnaby. Barnaby loved a great many things — long afternoon naps, scratching his back against rough tree bark, and rolling in soft autumn leaves. But there was one thing he loved more than anything else in the wide world: berries.
On this particular afternoon, Barnaby’s tummy was rumbling like a thundercloud. Rumble, bumble, roar!
He roamed through the woods, pushing past tall green ferns and stepping over mossy stones, searching everywhere for a bush full of sweet, juicy blackberries. But the bushes were all completely empty. Barnaby let out a heavy, disappointed bear sigh.
Just as he was about to give up and take a nap under a shady oak, he came upon a massive, moss-covered log lying on the forest floor. And from deep inside that hollow log came a very distinct, very exciting sound.
Bzzzzzz… Bzzzzzz…
Barnaby’s round ears perked right up. His nose twitched. It was not berries. It was something even better.
Honey!
The Sneaky Sniffer
A busy swarm of wild bees had turned the hollow tree into their secret honey fortress. Barnaby’s mouth began to water. He could practically taste the sweet golden treat.
Now, Barnaby was big, but he was not silly. He knew that bees carry sharp little weapons. So he dropped down onto all four paws and began to nose around the log very, very carefully. He pressed his big wet black nose against the bark and inhaled deeply, trying to find out whether the bees were at home, or whether the coast was clear for an afternoon snack.
Sniff, sniff, snort.
Just then, one of the worker bees was flying home from a nearby field of purple clover, carrying a heavy load of sweet nectar. As she buzzed over the ferns, she spotted a giant furry mountain sniffing around her front door.
Guessing exactly what the bear was after, the brave little bee did not hesitate for a second. She zoomed through the air like a tiny yellow-and-black jet.
Zzzzzzz-ZIP!
She flew straight at Barnaby’s face and stung him sharply, right on his soft, sensitive nose.
“OUCH!” bellowed Barnaby, shaking his head and blinking back tears.
Before the bear could even see who had hit him, the clever little bee zipped past his ear and disappeared safely into the darkness of the hollow log.
The Bear’s Great Rage
Barnaby lost his temper in an instant. His nose throbbed, his eyes watered, and he was absolutely furious. How dare a tiny little bug hurt a giant bear like him?
Instead of walking away to let his hot head cool, Barnaby let out a loud, angry roar.
ROARRRRR!
He sprang upon the log tooth and claw, using his sharp teeth and heavy paws to rip and tear and smash the wood to pieces. He was determined to destroy that nest once and for all.
But Barnaby had made a huge and painful mistake.
Smashing the log did not frighten the bees. It only made them furious. All at once the soft humming inside the wood turned into a deafening roar, and out poured the whole swarm — hundreds and hundreds of angry bees, erupting from the log like a buzzing storm cloud.
The Great Escape
Barnaby’s anger turned instantly into pure terror. He was, he realised, very badly outnumbered.
The poor bear had to take to his heels and run for his life. He crashed through the bushes, leaped over fallen branches, and sprinted as fast as his heavy legs could carry him. But the buzzing cloud was faster. They chased him in a long dark line, stinging his ears, his paws, and his furry back.
“Ooh! Ah! Ouch! Help!” Barnaby cried as he ran.
Then, up ahead through the trees, he saw a shimmering blue rescuer: the forest pond. With one final desperate leap, the giant bear launched himself into the air.
SPLAAAAASH!
Barnaby sank beneath the cool deep water, leaving only the very tip of his sore nose poking out so that he could breathe. The bees buzzed angrily over the surface for a long time, circling round and round, but they could not swim. At last they gave up, turned about, and flew back to repair their log.
Barnaby stayed in the pond for a long, long time — cold, wet, sticky, and covered in itchy stings. He had no honey, his nose hurt, and his fur was soaked right through.
The Moral of the Story: It is wiser to bear a single injury in silence than to provoke a thousand by flying into a rage. Taking a deep breath and letting a small insult go can save you from turning a tiny problem into an enormous disaster.