“So it was,” said Pooh.
“Yes,” said Piglet. “Pooh,” he went on nervously, and came a little closer, “do you think we’re in a Trap?”
Pooh hadn’t thought about it at all, but now he nodded. For suddenly he remembered how he and Piglet had once made a Pooh Trap for Heffalumps, and he guessed what had happened. He and Piglet had fallen into a Heffalump Trap for Poohs! That was what it was.
“What happens when the Heffalump comes?” asked Piglet tremblingly, when he had heard the news.
“Perhaps he won’t notice you, Piglet,” said Pooh encouragingly, “because you’re a Very Small Animal.”
“But he’ll notice you, Pooh.”
“He’ll notice me, and I shall notice him,” said Pooh, thinking it out. “We’ll notice each other for a long time, and then he’ll say: ‘Ho-ho!’ ”
Piglet shivered a little at the thought of that “Ho-ho!” and his ears began to twitch.
“W-what will you say?” he asked.
Pooh tried to think of something he would say, but the more he thought, the more he felt that there is no real answer to “Ho-ho!” said by a Heffalump in the sort of voice this Heffalump was going to say it in.
“I shan’t say anything,” said Pooh at last. “I shall just hum to myself, as if I was waiting for something.”
“Then perhaps he’ll say, ‘Ho-ho!’ again?” suggested Piglet anxiously.
“He will,” said Pooh.
Piglet’s ears twitched so quickly that he had to lean them against the side of the Trap to keep them quiet.
“He will say it again,” said Pooh, “and I shall go on humming. And that will Upset him. Because when you say ‘Ho-ho’ twice, in a gloating sort of way, and the other person only hums, you suddenly find, just as you begin to say it the third time—that—well, you find—”
“What?”
“That it isn’t,” said Pooh.
“Isn’t what?”
Pooh knew what he meant, but, being a Bear of Very Little Brain, couldn’t think of the words.
“Well, it just isn’t,” he said again.
“You mean it isn’t ho-ho-ish any more?” said Piglet hopefully.
Pooh looked at him admiringly and said that that was what he meant—if you went on humming all the time, because you couldn’t go on saying “Ho-ho!” forever.
“But he’ll say something else,” said Piglet.
“That’s just it. He’ll say: ‘What’s all this?’ And then I shall say—and this is a very good idea, Piglet, which I’ve just thought of—I shall say: ‘It’s a trap for a Heffalump which I’ve made, and I’m waiting for the Heffalump to fall in.’ And I shall go on humming. That will Unsettle him.”
“Pooh!” cried Piglet, and now it was his turn to be the admiring one. “You’ve saved us!”
“Have I?” said Pooh, not feeling quite sure.
But Piglet was quite sure; and his mind ran on, and he saw Pooh and the Heffalump talking to each other, and he thought suddenly, and a little sadly, that it would have been rather nice if it had been Piglet and the Heffalump talking so grandly to each other, and not Pooh, much as he loved Pooh; because he really had more brain than Pooh, and the conversation would go better if he and not Pooh were doing one side of it, and it would be comforting afterwards in the evenings to look back on the day when he answered a Heffalump back as bravely as if the Heffalump wasn’t there. It seemed so easy now. He knew just what he would say:
| Heffalump | Gloatingly. “Ho-ho!” |
| Piglet | Carelessly. “Tra-la-la, tra-la-la.” |
| Heffalump | Surprised, and not quite so sure of himself. “Ho-ho!” |
| Piglet | More carelessly still. “Tiddle-um-tum, tiddle-um-tum.” |
| Heffalump | Beginning to say Ho-ho and turning it awkwardly into a cough. “H’r’m! What’s all this?” |
| Piglet | Surprised. “Hullo! This is a trap I’ve made, and I’m waiting for a Heffalump to fall into it.” |
| Heffalump | Greatly disappointed. “Oh!” After a long silence. “Are you sure?” |
| Piglet | “Yes.” |
| Piglet | “Oh!” Nervously. “I—I thought it was a trap I’d made to catch Piglets.” |
| Piglet | Surprised. “Oh, no!” |
| Heffalump | “Oh!” Apologetically. “I—I must have got it wrong, then.” |
| Piglet | “I’m afraid so.” Politely. “I’m sorry.” He goes on humming. |
| Heffalump | “Well—well—I—well. I suppose I’d better be getting back?” |
| Piglet | Looking up carelessly. “Must you? Well, if you see Christopher Robin anywhere, you might tell him I want him.” |
| Heffalump | Eager to please. “Certainly! Certainly!” He hurries off. |
| Pooh | Who wasn’t going to be there, but we find we can’t do without him. “Oh, Piglet, how brave and clever you are!” |
| Piglet | Modestly. “Not at all, Pooh.” And then, when Christopher Robin comes, Pooh can tell him all about it. |
While Piglet was dreaming this happy dream, and Pooh was wondering again whether it was fourteen or fifteen, the Search for Small was still going on all over the Forest. Small’s real name was Very Small Beetle, but he was called Small for short, when he was spoken to at all, which hardly ever happened except when somebody said: “Really, Small!” He had been staying with Christopher Robin for a few seconds, and he started round a gorse-bush for exercise, but instead of coming back the other way, as expected, he hadn’t, so nobody knew where he was.
“I expect he’s just gone home,” said Christopher Robin to Rabbit.
“Did he say Goodbye-and-thank-you-for-a-nice-time?” said Rabbit.
“He’d only just said how-do-you-do,” said Christopher Robin.
“Ha!” said Rabbit. After thinking a little, he went on: “Has he written a letter saying how much he enjoyed himself, and how sorry he was he had to go so suddenly?”
Christopher Robin didn’t think he had.
“Ha!” said Rabbit again, and looked very important. “This is Serious. He is Lost. We must begin the Search at once.”
Christopher Robin, who was thinking of something else, said: “Where’s Pooh?”—but Rabbit had gone. So he went into his house and drew a picture of Pooh going on a long walk at about seven o’clock in the morning, and then he climbed to the top of his tree and climbed down
