“It’s a funny thing about Tiggers,” whispered Tigger to Roo, “how Tiggers never get lost.”
“Why don’t they, Tigger?”
“They just don’t,” explained Tigger. “That’s how it is.”
“Well,” said Christopher Robin, “we shall have to go and find them, that’s all. Come on, Tigger.”
“I shall have to go and find them,” explained Tigger to Roo.
“May I find them too?” asked Roo eagerly.
“I think not today, dear,” said Kanga. “Another day.”
“Well, if they’re lost tomorrow, may I find them?”
“We’ll see,” said Kanga, and Roo, who knew what that meant, went into a corner, and practised jumping out at himself, partly because he wanted to practise this, and partly because he didn’t want Christopher Robin and Tigger to think that he minded when they went off without him.
“The fact is,” said Rabbit, “we’ve missed our way somehow.”
They were having a rest in a small sandpit on the top of the Forest. Pooh was getting rather tired of that sandpit, and suspected it of following them about, because whichever direction they started in, they always ended up at it, and each time, as it came through the mist at them, Rabbit said triumphantly, “Now I know where we are!” and Pooh said sadly, “So do I,” and Piglet said nothing. He had tried to think of something to say, but the only thing he could think of was, “Help, help!” and it seemed silly to say that, when he had Pooh and Rabbit with him.
“Well,” said Rabbit, after a long silence in which nobody thanked him for the nice walk they were having, “we’d better get on, I suppose. Which way shall we try?”
“How would it be,” said Pooh slowly, “if, as soon as we’re out of sight of this Pit, we try to find it again?”
“What’s the good of that?” said Rabbit.
“Well,” said Pooh, “we keep looking for Home and not finding it, so I thought that if we looked for this Pit, we’d be sure not to find it, which would be a Good Thing, because then we might find something that we weren’t looking for, which might be just what we were looking for, really.”