“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.

“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.

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.

“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.