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.