The Bear with No Name

Chapter Five

The posseman hit the ground with a loud thump, writhing in pain, then he went still. Pooh calmly mounted the man's horse and sped off, heading for the mountains, almost hitting a few posse members in the process. 

"After him!" Wilhelm shouted, as he sped off in pursuit, the posse trailing behind.  

Christopher Robin ran to the wounded posseman, but the sheriff held him back. 

"It's no use, Christopher Robin, his wounds are beyond saving. He will be up in heaven soon. Leave him to pass away in peace." He turned to Roo, still knocked out cold, and cut away his ropes, then heaved the kangaroo into the wagon bed. 

"Hyah!" The sheriff urged his team of horses forward, and they started in pursuit of Pooh. 

The wagon bounced through the forest until they came back upon the main road over the mountains, they could see the posse's tail in the distance, the gap closing in as they caught up. 

"Here. Take this." The sheriff thrusted a double barrel shotgun into Christopher Robin's hands, "I am in charge of the reins, you, the firepower."

Christopher Robin took aim at Pooh's backside, but his aim was thrown off by the wagon's jolts and bounces, and he determined that the risk was too great to shoot while in pursuit. 

They sped over the mountain roads, around sharp bends and steep grades, Pooh always a step ahead of them. During the pursuit, the posse fluctuated as tired men and beasts pulled off the road and fresh ones joined the pursuit.

They came free of the mountains, and sped across the valley on roads that were made for slow-moving stagecoaches. They sped through little towns and villages, their police forces setting up roadblocks in a attempt to force Pooh to slow down, but they always saw the posse in hot pursuit and were forced to tear down their defenses to let the oncoming horde through. 

The pursuit charged through the town of Balto, the posse stationed there joining them.

They sped over the country roads, into Hundred Acre Wood. Christopher Robin staring with a mix of nostalgia and sadness as they rumbled along. 

The fire hadn't destroyed all of the Hundred Acre Wood, but it certainly annihilated most of it. Christopher Robin remembered after the fire, everything had been reduced to ashes, and charred black, but now, grass and wildflowers had covered up most of the destruction, and the centuries-old oaks were still there. 

The wagon rumbled over the bridge where they once played Poohsticks, along the tiny path, past Pooh's thinking spot, past what was left of Piglet's house, drawing ever near the end. 

He knew where Pooh was going, to his old house, with the sign Mr. Sanders above the door. He probably had stockpiled a lot of honey to survive, and as long as he conserved his resources, he could barricade himself inside for weeks, and weeks, possibly months. 

"Halt!" Wilhelm shouted reigning in his horse, "All, halt! He barricaded himself in!"

Christopher Robin stared at Pooh's home. Shattered honeypot shards were embedded all around his home to deter anybody charging in, the doors and windows were nailed over with boards. A fortress. 

"Set up a camp." Christopher Robin said to Wilhelm, "We will not withdraw until he comes out with his hands up. It's a only a matter of time now."