"Just help me to hoist these up," says Isak, and that was all.
October came, and Inger had to give up. This was a hard blow, for the roof-beams must be got up at any cost, and the place covered in before the autumn rains; there was not a day to be lost. What could be wrong with Inger? Not going to be ill? She would make cheese now and then from the goats' milk, but beyond that she did little save shifting Goldenhorns a dozen times a day where she grazed.
"Bring up a good-sized basket, or a box," she had said, "next time you're down to the village."
"What d'you want that for?" asked Isak.
"I'll just be wanting it," said Inger.
Isak hauled up the roof-beams on a rope, Inger guiding them with one hand; it seemed a help just to have her about. Bit by bit the work went on; there was no great height to the roof, but the timber was huge and heavy for a little house.
The weather kept fine, more or less. Inger got the potatoes in by herself, and Isak had the roofing done before the rain came on in earnest. The goats were brought in of a night into the hut and all slept there together; they managed somehow, they managed everyway, and did not grumble.
Isak was getting ready for another journey down to the village. Said
Inger very humbly:
"Do you think perhaps you could bring up a good-sized basket, or a box?"
"I've ordered some glass windows," said Isak. "and a couple of painted doors. I'll have to fetch them up," said he in his lordly way.