It was their second red-letter day, when the last sod was dropped into place on the roof, and Garth carried Natalie inside. Strictly considered, the house was not very much to brag about, perhaps; for it slanted this way and that like the first pothooks in a child's copybook; but Garth, fired by Natalie's enthusiastic praises, could not have been prouder if he had completed the Taj Mahal.
One end had been partitioned off for Natalie's room; and in finishing this part Garth had spent all his pains. The floor was made of small logs, filled and plastered with clay, which he had hardened by building fires upon it; and had then strewn rushes over the whole. There was a rough bunk in one corner, with a low table by its side—the latest thing in rustics, the maker explained. There was a tiny window high up on the side overlooking the lake; it had no glass, but a stout shutter swinging on wooden pins, and which fastened with a strong wooden bar. But the crowning feature of the room, constructed with infinite pains after countless failures, was the fireplace in the corner. Garth deprecated it; it wasn't much of a fireplace; only a sort of little arched doorway of baked clay, so narrow the logs had to stand upright in it, making cooking very difficult—but when Natalie saw the flames curling up the chimney in the most natural way possible, she set up a feeble crow of delight.
The balance of the interior was to serve for Garth's room and storeroom combined. It had a very small door, also on the lake side; but he could not afford a window beside; and he also saved himself the trouble of flooring it. The door was constructed in the same manner as the shutter, of matched poles strongly braced behind, and further strengthened with rawhide lashings.
Natalie had Garth hang a spare blanket over the doorway between the two rooms; and she produced a shawl to serve for a table cloth. After supper, when they locked themselves in and heaped up the fire, Natalie propped up on her couch, and Garth sitting on a stool, smoking by especial request—it was as snug as Heaven, Natalie said. The nights had been growing dreadfully keen of late; and poor Natalie wrapped in all the blankets they possessed had nevertheless more than once lain awake with the cold. But now, within thick walls—what matter if they were out of the perpendicular?—and under a tight roof, with the flames leaping briskly up the chimney, no king in his palace ever experienced such a sense of opulent and all-sufficing luxury as Garth and Natalie the first night in their miserable shack.
This was the fourteenth day after Natalie's accident. Every day after the first week had shown a slight improvement in her condition; and every day had therefore lessened the hold Rina had over them; until now Garth felt, should it be necessary, he could bring the patient safely back to health unaided. Rina knew this too; and became daily more morose and sullen in her demeanour. To separate her longer from Mabyn would be, Garth felt, simply to promote an explosion. Besides, sufficiently housed now, well armed, and with the food safely stored, he felt strong enough to be merciful. On the night they moved into the shack he pointed out the canoe to Rina, telling her that henceforth she was free to use it as she would. He would go to the island no more, he added; but Rina might come every day for rations for both—as long as Mabyn remained where he was.
He hoped by this to incite the energetic Rina into planning Mabyn's escape from the island. They could catch a couple of horses and ride to their friends at the distant Settlement, or where they would. He felt he could trust Rina, if she ever got Mabyn among her own people, to keep him from coming back. Thus he would at the same stroke be rid of them, and conserve his rapidly diminishing stores. It was no great matter if they drove off all the horses, for he still had old Cy under his eye for Natalie to ride; and their own journey back would have to be undertaken at a walking pace, anyway. He had learned enough of Rina's mixed character to be sure that this would have a greater chance of coming about if he let her think of it for herself, so he said nothing to her.
He was disappointed. Mabyn, too timid to undertake so long a journey without ample supplies, or perhaps too obstinate to go, they remained on the island; and Rina came every day for food. If she was grateful for being allowed to join Mabyn she did not show it. Every trace of her better nature rapidly disappeared, and she seemed wholly the sullen savage. Bad treatment was the explanation they thought; and they pitied her.
Garth waited five days more. Natalie was by that time moving around freely; and they had begun to count the days to their ardently desired retreat from that unhappy valley. The question of food became more and more pressing—their journey would have to be spread over many slow stages; and he finally decided to drive Mabyn and Rina away.
So the next time Rina came, he told her he would give her two days' rations for two persons the following day; and after that they need expect no more. In the meantime, he said, she was free to go up on the prairie and catch the first two horses she met. He even offered her old Cy to round them up, secure in holding the dugout for a hostage. Rina betrayed not the least surprise, or any other feeling at his ultimatum, but coolly rode off as he bid her. She returned within an hour driving Emmy and Timoosis, which she picketed below Mabyn's hut.
What passed between Rina and Mabyn when she returned to the island, the other two could only guess at. However, Garth, up at dawn next morning, saw them striking the tepee. They made two trips back and forth between the island and the mouth of the creek; and afterward, while Mabyn saddled and packed the horses, Rina paddled to Garth's camp to get the promised rations. They both awaited her on the bank.