Within reach of his arm was a tiny stove, and close to the stove a supply of kindling and dry wood.

The whole thing made him think of a child's playhouse.

Yet there was still room for a wide, comfortable, cane-bottomed chair, a stool, and a smooth-planed board fastened under a window, so that it answered the purpose of a table.

This table was piled with many packages.
He stripped off his packs and returned for Marette.

She had come to the edge of the scow and called to him softly as she heard him splashing through the water.