In May, Carley returned to Flagstaff to take up with earnest inspiration
the labors of homebuilding in a primitive land.
It required two trucks to transport her baggage and purchases out to
Deep Lake. The road was good for eighteen miles of the distance, until
it branched off to reach her land, and from there it was desert rock
and sand. But eventually they made it; and Carley found herself and
belongings dumped out into the windy and sunny open. The moment was
singularly thrilling and full of transport. She was free. She had shaken
off the shackles. She faced lonely, wild, barren desert that must be
made habitable by the genius of her direction and the labor of her
hands. Always a thought of Glenn hovered tenderly, dreamily in the back
of her consciousness, but she welcomed the opportunity to have a few
weeks of work and activity and solitude before taking up her life with
him. She wanted to adapt herself to the metamorphosis that had been
wrought in her.
To her amazement and delight, a very considerable progress had been made
with her plans. Under a sheltered red cliff among the cedars had
been erected the tents where she expected to live until the house
was completed. These tents were large, with broad floors high off the
ground, and there were four of them. Her living tent had a porch under
a wide canvas awning. The bed was a boxlike affair, raised off the floor
two feet, and it contained a great, fragrant mass of cedar boughs upon
which the blankets were to be spread. At one end was a dresser with
large mirror, and a chiffonier. There were table and lamp, a low rocking
chair, a shelf for books, a row of hooks upon which to hang things,
a washstand with its necessary accessories, a little stove and a
neat stack of cedar chips and sticks. Navajo rugs on the floor lent
brightness and comfort.
Carley heard the rustling of cedar branches over her head, and saw
where they brushed against the tent roof. It appeared warm and fragrant
inside, and protected from the wind, and a subdued white light filtered
through the canvas. Almost she felt like reproving herself for the
comfort surrounding her. For she had come West to welcome the hard
knocks of primitive life.
It took less than an hour to have her trunks stored in one of the spare
tents, and to unpack clothes and necessaries for immediate use. Carley
donned the comfortable and somewhat shabby outdoor garb she had worn at
Oak Creek the year before; and it seemed to be the last thing needed to
make her fully realize the glorious truth of the present.