The Bear with No Name

Chapter Three

Early the next morning, Christopher Robin dragged himself out of bed and to the dining room, where a steaming hot bowl of porridge awaited him. He sprinkled a bit of brown sugar and cinnamon on top and wolfed it all down. 

"This won't fire, I haven't used this in years."

Roo plunked down his gun on the table. 

Christopher Robin disassembled the gun, and looked at it's guts. The slide, firing pin and trigger mechanism had a bit of rust and needed oil. He set to work at once. 

Roo's gun was a pistol that had a snap-on stock, effectively making it a carbine. It's accuracy was questionable, but Christopher Robin knew that Roo couldn't handle the recoil of a heavy longarm, him still being shorter then most men. 

"Done. It should work now." Christopher Robin racked the slide and was pleased when a round was ejected. 

Christopher Robin and Roo headed out of the house to their horses, stabled for the night in the barn. 

Christopher Robin fed his horse sugar cubes while he waited for Roo to saddle up his pony. 

They set off on their adventure after bidding farewell to Alice, riding up the dirt roads, making way for the various wagons and folk that traveled the way.

They came up to the main paved road, and determining it to be safe, they sped up their horses to a rather fast gallop. 

Along the road, they passed wagons manned by law enforcement, and Christopher Robin tipped his hat in acknowledgement  to the guards. They would give a curt nod or wave as they passed.

The hills slowly morphed into forest as they rode further along, their horses strained a little at the grade. 

Finally, they came to Wilder, man and beast grimy from the dust of travel. They hitched up outside the Wilder Hotel, and went inside, where a annoyed bearded clerk in a suit and tie greeted them.

"Excuse me," Christopher Robin said, "Have you seen a rather rotund bear around these parts?"

"I haven't seen one, but I do assure you that someone would know, perhaps the sheriff. He keeps track of a lot of criminals every year. I'm sure you would find what you want with him no problem. Would you like a room and perhaps a hot meal?"

"Yes, please." Christopher Robin pulled out his wallet and gave the man a twenty dollar banknote.

"Very well then. Room 2E, here's your key. The dining room and saloon will be open from five to one in the morning. Breakfast is at eight."

They moved their possessions off their horses and headed toward the Sheriff's office. 

The sheriff was a elderly man, friendly and welcoming, having received very little visitors. He poured out ginger ale for all of them.

"You looking for The Bear with No Name? We haven't saw him for months. Last time we saw him, we had a small stand-off, where he and his partner mortally wounded one of my deputies."

"I have grounds to suspect that Winnie the Pooh robbed a train that was carrying millions of dollars in payroll and killed several guards in that process."

"Well, that bear certainly was a good gunslinger, and a clever thief. His mind certainly is quite a bit disturbed, to say the least. Say, where you came from?"

"Hundred Acre Wood, and so is my partner." Christopher Robin motioned toward Roo. 

"Not many kangaroos around these parts nowadays." The sheriff took a quick glance at the clock ticking away on the wall. 

"Oh, our time is up, you two run along now." The sheriff gulped down the last of his ginger ale and motioned them toward the door.

"What a fat load of good it did." Roo spat out as they strolled down Main Street, "He didn't give one bit of the "real" information."

"In his defense, he has a lot of other matters to tend to. Folks have lots of other troubles around here, and as long as Pooh isn't a big security threat, he will leave him alone."

"I guess so, but are we still going out to find him?"

"Of course, Roo; of course. Dinner, then we talk." They strode up the stairs and went inside the hotel. 

Dinner was fine, chicken jambalaya and collared greens, washed down with a rum. Roo was surprised at how crowded the dining room was, Wilder being a stop for weary travelers.

Christopher Robin spread a survey map before them, pointing out the various towns, mountains, and forests. The Western Mountain range goes North to South. Wilder is a little bit southeastern of Barnstall Grove, it is a half day to ride there.

 Here is the main road through the mountains, there are also numerous other tiny roads. Over the mountains, there is a valley, with a town called Lashby in the middle. 

There at Lashby is the junction, and there is a rough road leading north, to what is left of the Hundred Acre Wood.

So many miles. So little time. Tomorrow they would set out to the still-abandoned train, searching for remnants of the robbery.

After settling into bed that night, Roo stared up at the plaster ceiling, questions swirling through his mind.