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Rina followed, turning a sad and troubled face in the direction of their camp as she rode by. This seemed to be all; and Garth was about to rise, when he heard still another rider approaching.
He glad I die!" Garth's desperate need brought craft to his aid. "Very well," he said coolly. "I shoot him on sight! Mabyn goes first!" Rina, touched home, raised an agitated face. "No! No!" she said tremblingly. "Grylls, him took her not 'Erbe't!" "No matter!" he said, feigning to leave her. "Mabyn dies like a dog unless you come with me." Rina struggled to her knees, and clutched at him.
Rina was a year younger than Nevan, but he was on anti-agathics and she couldn't tolerate them; if he didn't get himself killed on the way, he'd probably outlive her by close to two centuries. "Is there anything else?" "No, sir." Nevan stood, bowed. "I thank you for your counsel, Ranger Medart. Gods permitting, I intend to follow it." Medart rose and returned the bow.
Natalie's little rifle he gave to Charley; the second Winchester had been won back in the raid, and the twenty-two was the only other weapon they possessed. In twenty minutes they were ready. Securing the door of the hut against the entrance of animals, they hastened to pick up Rina.
Rina regarded the weapon in his hands with as little respect as if it had been a pop-gun. But there was nothing baffling about her now, she was just the furious woman common to any shade of skin. "Where is he?" she cried and without waiting for any answer, emptied the hissing ewer of her wrath over Garth's head.
Rina gravely laid her own in it, and let him wag it up and down. This form of binding an agreement she knew. Still she had not committed herself to anything; and Garth paused, determined to make her speak before he went on. She favoured him at last with a walled glance purely savage. "Let 'Erbe't go off the island," she said indifferently.
On the one hand he thought: "The storm has held them up, somewhere just ahead! It is my only chance of overtaking them!" and then he turned his horse's head north. But the other thought would not down. "The kid knew it meant death to walk; and he chose it!" Garth finally led the way back over the coulée. Rina had no difficulty making herself comfortable among the young poplar trees.
At first they dared not believe they could really be free of their enemy so easily; and they continually found themselves listening for the sound of their return. Garth saddled Cy at last; and rode along the trail to the top of the bench. He saw Mabyn and Rina two specks in the distance; and still travelling south.
Pretty soon the snow began to fall in large, wet flakes, drifting down as idly and erratically as the opening notes of one who dreams at the piano large flakes falling direct to the ground and lingering there like measured notes; and little white coveys suddenly eddying hither and thither, like aimless runs up and down the keyboard. Rina lifted her brown face to the darkening sky.
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."
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