The frightened horses struggled over the watercourse, and gained the
trees before Garth, hampered as he was, succeeded in drawing their heads
together, and stopping them. Slipping out of the saddle without
loosening his grasp of Natalie, he lifted her off, ever careful to
shield her from possible further shots with his own body. He remembered
Mabyn's was a single-shot weapon; and he counted on the time it would
take the Indian woman to obtain ammunition, and reload. Quickly and
tenderly laying Natalie on the ground under shelter of a stump, he
unslung his own rifle. But as he dropped to his knee, and raised it, he
saw the woman on the edge of the cut-bank swing the stock of her gun
around her head, and send the weapon spinning out over the water.
Meanwhile Mabyn was running up the hill toward her with significant
action. No immediate further danger threatened. Garth put the pair out
of his mind, and bent over Natalie. What happened to the woman at
Mabyn's hands was a matter of indifference to him now.
Natalie's left arm hung useless; and a soaking crimson stain spread
broadly on her sleeve between elbow and shoulder. Her face had gone chalky
white, her eyes were half closed, and her teeth were set painfully in her
blue nether lip. To see his sparkling, vivid Natalie brought so low, was a
sight to open all the doors of Garth's brain to madness. His heart swelled
suffocatingly with rage and grief, but there was no time for that, when
every faculty he possessed must be concentrated on saving her; and forcing
it back, he picked her up again with infinite tenderness. His first and
instinctive thought was to return and seize the hut; so that he might
at least have a roof to cover her. He suspected the other two were now
without arms; but even if they had a weapon, he had a better one; was
a sure shot; and was on his guard.
At the first move he made in the direction of the hut, Natalie, whom he
had thought unconscious, divined his intention.
"Garth! Not in his house!" she murmured feverishly. "I will not go in
there! I will not!"
He paused in a painful perplexity. "But dearest, there is no other
house," he said.
"Put me down in the open air," she begged. "It would suffocate me! I
will not endure it!"
So Garth turned back among the trees. He strode over the dead leaves and
the pine needles to the lake shore. Here, between the willows that grew
thickly at the water's verge, and the heavier timber, extended an open
strip of grass, still fresh and green. He laid his burden down upon it;
and, rolling up his coat, put it under her head for a pillow.
He hastily cut away her sleeve, exposing the injury. The ball had passed
through, making a clean opening where it entered, and a jagged wound
whence it issued. It was clear the bone was broken; but from the
character of the bleeding, even Garth could see that the artery was
uninjured. He brought water from the lake in his hat, and gently washed
the wound; but even in this he doubted if he did right; for the water
was cold--but he had nothing in which to heat it. The best he could do
was to take the chill out of it by pressing the handkerchief between his
hot hands.
Everything they possessed that might have been of service was two miles
off; and might just as well have been a hundred; for Garth could not
think of leaving her; and he shrank from the thought of inflicting the
agony it would cause her to be carried so far. And even suppose they
gained their own camp, the situation would be little improved; for how
was he in his ignorance to undertake the delicate task of setting the
shattered bone; of improvising splints and bandages; and supplying, what
a glance at the ugly wound showed to be needful, antiseptics? A surgeon,
whatever his skill, rarely dares trust the steadiness of his hand on the
bodies of those he loves; what then was Garth to do, who had no skill at
all?
He had his dark hour then, tasting ultimate despair. He sat beside her,
gripping his dull head between his hands, and striving desperately to
contrive, where there was nothing to contrive with. Oh, the pity and the
wrong of it, that it was _she_ who must be hurt! he thought; and how
joyfully he would have taken it himself to relieve her. _He_ bled
inwardly; and the physical pain of the most hideous wounds could not
equal the agony he experienced in his helplessness.
Meanwhile the wound momentarily changed. The arm began to swell and
darken; and Garth knew there was no time to lose. He made one attempt to
proceed, kneading the flesh of the arm very gently to explore the broken
ends of the bone--but Natalie's piteous cry of pain completely unmanned
him. He desisted, shaking like a leaf, and sick with compassion; and he
knew he would never be able to do it.
What seemed like an age passed; though it was no more than a few
minutes. He was bending over her, doing what little he could to ease her
pain; and with knotted brows rapidly considering, and rejecting, one
after another, the desperate expedients that suggested themselves.
Suddenly looking up he perceived among the trees, at the distance of a
few paces, Rina standing. Hot anger instantly welled up in his breast,
and made a red blur before his eyes. Rina's sex was no protection to her
then. He picked up his gun.
Observing the action, Rina mutely spread her hands, palms outward. Her
entire aspect had changed; the storm of passion had passed; and she
stood contrite and sullen. It was impossible for the blindest passion
to shoot at a figure in such an attitude. Garth lowered his gun; but he
still kept it across his knees, and his face did not relax. The woman
was loathsome to him.
"What do you want?" he demanded coldly.
Rina came a little closer. "I sorry," she said sulkily--like a child
unwillingly confessing a fault. "I t'ink I go looney for a while. I not
hear right. I t'ink she try to tak' my 'osban' from me!"
Garth glanced at the suffering Natalie with contracted brows. "That's
all very well!" he said bitterly. "But it can't undo what's done!"
"I can mak' her well, maybe," said Rina, still affecting indifference.
"I know what to do. My mot'er, she teach me. If you let me look at her,
I tell you."
A wild hope sprang up in Garth's breast. If the girl were only able to
help Natalie, his hate of her could very well content itself a while.
But dare he trust her? With keen, hard eyes he sought to read her face.
Her own eyes avoided his; and she made a picture of savage indifference;
but as he looked he saw two great tears roll down her cheeks. In his
desperate situation it was well worth the risk.
Raising his gun, he said coldly: "You may look at her. If you try to
injure her, I will send a bullet through your head."
Receiving the permission, Rina came forward, careless of the threatening
gun; and dropped to her knees beside Natalie. She examined the wound on
both sides; and felt of the fracture with delicate fingers. To judge of
the normal position of the bones, she manipulated her own arm. Garth never
took his eyes from her; but she was tenderer with the patient than he
could have been.
Finally she raised a mask-like face to Garth. "I can fix it," she said.
"If you let me."
Whatever her private feelings were, she had a confident air, that could
not but convey some assurance to him. He nodded silently; after what he
had suffered, he scarcely dared believe in such good fortune.
Rina quickly rose. "You mak' a fire to heat water," she said coolly. "I
go to bring everyt'ing."
With the words, she was gone among the trees; and Garth, overjoyed to be
able to do something with his hands, hastened to build a fire.
Before he really expected her, she was back with what she needed, a pot
for heating the water, a basin, several kinds of herbs, some strips of
yellowed linen for bandages, a blanket and a knife. While the water was
heating, she cut a deep segment of the smooth white bark of a young
poplar for a splint--the curve of it was judged to a nicety to fit
Natalie's arm. During the operation of setting the bone, Garth watched
her unswervingly, clenching his teeth to bear the spectacle of Natalie's
agony. For every pang of hers he suffered a sharper; the sweat coursed
down his face.
But at last it was over; the wound washed and fomented with bruised
leaves, the splint fitted snug, and the whole neatly bandaged. Natalie,
wrapped in the blanket, soon fell into the sleep of exhaustion.
Rina looked at the pale and shaken Garth with an odd expression. "If you
have whiskey, better tak' a drink," she suggested.
Garth had his flask; and he obeyed without question.
Throughout the operation, Rina had preserved an admirable, professional
air, intent and impersonal; and when necessary she had brusquely ordered
Garth to help her. Now that it was all over her face altered; she
continued to kneel at Natalie's side, gazing at her soft hair, and the
whiteness of her skin with a kind of sad and jealous wonder.
Garth on the alert at the change, which portended he knew not what
explosion of passion in the savage woman's breast, ordered her from
Natalie's side. She obeyed, resuming her sullen mask, but lingered near
him, plainly full of some question she desired to ask. He observed for
the first, a purpling bruise above her temple. Rina saw his eyes upon
it, and her colour changed.
"I run against a tree," she hastily volunteered.
At the same time her hand stole to her throat to hide certain marks on
its dusky roundness. Garth knew instinctively that she was loyally
lying. Mabyn had beaten her. He wondered how far the wish to serve the
woman she had injured was Rina's own impulse and how far she had been
forced to it by Mabyn. He began dimly to conceive that the red woman had
good qualities.
At last the question on her breast was spoken. "Who is she?" she asked,
pointing sullenly at the sleeping Natalie.
Garth rapidly considered what he should answer. He could not pretend to
himself that he had forgiven the woman; but since Natalie's pain was
mitigated he was cooler; and his sense of justice forced it home on him
that Rina, too, had been through her ordeal. In his present desperate
situation, his only chance of assistance lay in her--Mabyn was an
egomaniac, and utterly irresponsible. Frankness had served Garth in good
stead before this; and finally he told her the plain truth in such terms
that she could understand.
"This feeling Mabyn has for her," he insisted in the end, "is only a
passing one. If we can get her out of his sight all will go on as
before."
Rina nodded. Her inscrutable face softened a little, he thought. "I
on'erstan' now," she said quietly. "So I not go crazy wit' t'inking
about it."
Garth was glad he had told her.
Rina stood studying him with her strange and secret air. "You love her
ver' moch," she said suddenly, pointing to Natalie.
Garth bent over the sleeping figure in a way that answered her better
than words.
"I t'ink she love you too," said Rina gravely. "When I 'urt her, she try
not to cry because it 'urt you so bad."
A slow red crept under Garth's skin. He hated to betray himself under
the eyes of the red woman; and he bustled about, averting his face from
her. "When can she be moved?" he asked, brusquely changing the subject.
Rina shook her head. "I not know," she said. "Maybe she have fever.
Three, four week maybe."
Garth's heart sunk heavily, as he considered their scanty supplies, the
approach of winter--and, more dangerous still, the fruitful opportunities
of conflict the weeks would offer to four souls so strangely opposed, and
so strangely bound together in the wilderness.
"What is Mabyn doing now?" he asked suddenly.
Rina's face instantly became as blank as plaster. "I not talk to you
about him," she said coolly.
Garth was conscious of receiving a rebuke.
"But I help you," she added presently. "I go bring your outfit in."
Before she went, she brewed a draught for Natalie with some of the herbs
she had brought; and instructed Garth to administer it when she woke.
For an instant all Garth's suspicions returned; and he looked at her
hard. Rina, divining his thought, coolly lifted the pail to her lips,
and drank of it. Once more he felt himself rebuked.
Left alone, his thoughts reverted to Mabyn. What would he have been
plotting all this time? he wondered; what stand would he take in this
new posture of affairs? It was too much to hope, he decided, that one so
selfish and so jealous could be persuaded to sink his animosity against
Garth, for the purpose of serving Natalie while she lay injured. Garth's
business had made him more or less familiar with the workings of the
diseased ego; and he was convinced that Mabyn, if for nothing else,
hated him intolerably for having been the spectator of his repulse by
Natalie.
As time passed, Natalie began to stir and mutter in her sleep and Garth,
bending over her, fearful of fever, put the man out of his head.
Returning to her from the edge of the lake, with cloths wrung out of
cold water, he found her with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.
"Send him away! Send him away!" she muttered. "I cannot have him near
me!"
At first he thought her mind wandered, but following the direction of
her eyes, he saw the figure of a man skulking among the trees; and his
face grimmed. Soothing her, he offered Rina's drink; and it had an
immediate effect. She dropped off to sleep again. Then Garth picked up
his gun and strode toward Mabyn.
The man waited for him with an air oddly mixed of fear and bravado.
As Garth came close he smiled in a way that he intended to be
ingratiating--but Mabyn's smile only rendered him more hideous.
Garth's first look made sure that both his hands were empty.
"Is there anything I can do?" Mabyn asked with apparent solicitude.
"Yes, keep away from here," returned Garth curtly. "If I catch you
within a hundred yards of my camp, I'll wing you so you won't move again
as long as we're here."
Mabyn assumed an aggrieved expression. "You needn't take that tone," he
grumbled. "I came in friendliness. I want to have a talk with you."
"I'm listening," said Garth.
Mabyn twisted uneasily. "Damn it! How can a man make friendly advances
when you're standing over him with a gun!" he said.
"Say what you've got to say, or clear out," said Garth.
The aggrieved air proving ineffectual, Mabyn substituted offended
silence; offered to go; and came back. "Well, look here!" he said at
last. "This is it. Here are the three of us up here----"
"Four," amended Garth.
"Well, four if you like," said Mabyn. "We're stuck here together. We
can't afford to quarrel. We've got to have some working agreement."
"Is that all?" said Garth uncompromisingly.
Mabyn looked around with the air of a much-tried man, appealing to the
bystanders--that they were only indifferent trees, rather spoiled the
effect. "I wouldn't take this from any man if it wasn't that I was bent
on avoiding trouble," he blustered.
Garth suppressed the scornful inclination to laugh.
"Look here," began Mabyn afresh, with a reasonable air. "I came to offer
you the shack for Natalie. She can't sleep in the open in her condition."
"Much obliged," said Garth coolly. "I intended to take it in the first
place. But Miss Bland refused to allow herself to be carried there."
Mabyn's eyes bolted. His control over his facial muscles was imperfect;
and the struggle between the open character he desired to convey, and
the secret feelings that tortured him, was plain. "What are you going
to do?" he asked.
"Build her a house," said Garth.
Mabyn, turning his back, appeared to be considering.
"Is that all you have to say?" asked Garth.
The other turned a face of obstinate friendliness and good will. "Look
here--" he began all over. "I don't know your name----"
Garth informed him.
"Well, Pevensey, I'm sorry for what passed this morning. I regret what I
said. I was only half awake; and scarcely knew what I did. Will you
overlook it?"
"Talk is cheap," said Garth guardedly. "I will be guided by your actions
henceforth." But his voice was milder; for an apology could not help but
speak to his sense of generosity.
Mabyn, encouraged, amplified his penitent, ingratiating air. "As to the
future," he said, "I mean to show you. You'll soon be satisfied!" He
came closer. "In the meantime let's make a truce! Shake hands on it!"
Garth thoroughly distrusted the man; but he could see no harm to Natalie
in accepting his offer, while privately determining to relax none of his
vigilance. It was only too true, as Mabyn had said; neither could afford
to quarrel. Mabyn had no gun, and Garth could not leave Natalie's side
for an instant.
"I am willing," said Garth readily. "But it's understood this doesn't
affect what I said before. You are not to come within a hundred yards of
this camp!"
Mabyn shrugged, as at the unworthiness of Garth's suspicions.
"You agree to it?" Garth persisted.
"All right!" said Mabyn--a shade too readily. "Shake!"
Garth shifted his gun; and advanced to take Mabyn's hand. The man could
not keep an ugly little gleam from showing in his shifty gray eye; and
Garth stopped abruptly. Mabyn sneered. Garth, fired by one of the
imperious impulses of the blood of youth, strode forward and grasped the
extended hand defiantly.
He saw instantly his mistake. Mabyn's face was suddenly transfigured by
the deadly hatred he had long repressed. His right hand closed on
Garth's like a vice; and at the same time a knife slipped out of his
sleeve into the other hand. He jerked the surprised Garth halfway round;
and aimed a blow between his shoulders. Garth was oddly conscious of the
fresh marks of the whetstone on the blade of the knife. With the
incredible swiftness of our subconscious moves, he dropped his useless
gun; and twisting his body around, flung up his free hand, and warded
the descending blow. Seizing Mabyn's wrist, he flung himself forward to
bear the other back.
It was all very brief. Mabyn, braced to receive Garth's weight, held his
ground. Inspired with a febrile strength, he enjoyed a temporary
advantage. Unable to reach Garth's back, he thrust desperately at his
face, his neck--but only stabbed the air. They were locked together with
their arms crossed--surely as strange a posture as ever men fought in!
But Mabyn had staked all on the first blow; and that failing, there
could be but one result. His fictitious strength suddenly failing, he
collapsed in Garth's arms. Garth wrenched his hand free and hurled him
to the ground, where he lay, livid and sobbing for breath. The attack
had been contrived with devilish cunning; but every design this man
undertook in life was foredoomed to failure.
Garth secured the knife; and stood looking down at the broken wretch,
with strong waves of disgust welling over him. He laughed briefly.
"Too contemptible to kill!" he said; and turned on his heel.