He didn't like to go near the houses of men, for he generally got hurt when he did so; but he was by this time so very hungry that he almost forgot that all men were his enemies. Shuffling quietly along on his soft-padded feet, he came to a little house standing all by itself in the edge of the woods. All was quiet about it, except a curious sort of humming noise, which may have reminded him of bees and honey that he liked so well. Nearer and nearer he came, snuffing the breeze as he came, till he reached the open door of the little house. Into this he thrust his great head, and surely now he smelled something to eat. It was a schoolhouse, though he didn't know it. At this moment a little girl looked up from her book, and a wild scream rent the air. "There's a bear coming in!" she cried. Instantly all was confusion; books were dropped, school was forgotten, screams and shouts filled the air, while the teacher--a stranger in that wild country--turned white. Some of the bigger boys ran towards the door, shouting and waving their arms to frighten the great beast away, but he had smelled the dinner baskets, ranged in the passageway, and he was far too hungry to mind the shouting of boys. The next moment he was fairly in the passage, and there was nothing to prevent his coming into the schoolroom. Now there is a very wrong impression abroad about bears. Most people--especially children--think that a bear is always roaming around seeking some one to devour; while the truth is that, unless madly hungry or badly treated, a bear will always avoid a human being. In fact, hunters call them cowardly, though a more truthful word would be peaceable. In that schoolroom, however, a bear was the greatest terror in the world. There was nothing in the way of a door to keep him out of the room, but there was a great attraction for him in the doughnuts and pieces of pie and cake and apples and other good things he smelled in the dinner baskets, and he set at once to turning over the contents, and eating whatever pleased his fancy. After her momentary faintness, Miss Brown--the young teacher--roused herself to see what could be done to protect her charges. There was no door between the room and the passage, though there was a suitable opening for one. Glancing around the room, she saw but one thing to do,--to barricade that opening. Trying to quiet the screams and tears of the children huddled around her, she spoke hurriedly to the biggest boys. "Boys, we must barricade the doorway while he is busy with the baskets. Bring up the benches as quick as you can!" All fell to work, and soon benches were piled from the floor to the top of the doorway; but they were so unsteady that one could see that one good push of the big fellow would throw them all down. "More!" said Miss Brown; "we must brace these up."