into place, the woman realized
with horror how frail the door was. Momentarily she expected to see it
smashed in by a stroke of the monster's paw. She did not know a bear's
caution, his cunning suspicion of traps, his dread of the scent of
man.

There was no light in the shack, except a faint red gleam from the
open draft of the stove, and the gray pallor of the night sky
glimmering in through the little window. The woman was so faint with
fear that she dared not search for the candles, but leaned panting
against the wall and staring at the window as if she expected the bear
to look in at her. She was brought to her senses in a moment, however,
by the baby beginning to cry. In the race for the shack, he had lost
his lump of sugar, and now he realized how uncomfortable he was. The
woman seated herself on the bench by the stove and began to nurse him,
all the time keeping her eyes on the pale square of the window.

[Illustration: "SNIFFED LOUDLY ALONG THE CRACK OF THE DOOR."]

When the door was slammed in his face, the bear had backed away in
apprehension and paused to study the shack. But at the sound of the
baby's voice he seemed to realize that here, at least, were some
individuals of the dreaded man tribe who were not dangerous. He came
forward and sniffed loudly along the crack of the door till the
woman's heart stood still. He leaned against it, tentatively, till it
creaked, but the latch and hinges held. Then he prowled around the
shack, examining it carefully, and doubtless expecting to find an open
entrance somewhere. In his experience, all caves and dens had
entrances. At last the window caught his attention. The woman heard
the scratching of his claws on the rough outer boarding as he raised
himself. Then the window was darkened by a great black head looking
in.

Throwing the baby into the bunk, the woman snatched from the stove a
blazing stick, rushed to the window with it, and made a wild thrust at
the dreadful face. With a crash the glass flew to splinters, and the
black face disappeared. The bear was untouched, but the fiery weapon
had taught him discretion. He drew back with an angry growl, and sat
down on his haunches as if to see what the woman would do next. She,
for her part, after this victory, grew terribly afraid of setting the
dry shack on fire; so she hurriedly returned the snapping, sparkling
brand to the stove. Thereupon the bear resumed his ominous prowling,
round and round the shack, som