"Oh, this is perfect!" murmured Enoch. "Perfect!" Then he drew
Diana's hand to his lips.
How long they sat in silence listening to the wistful notes that
floated up to them, neither could have told. But when the singing
finally ceased, Diana, with a sudden shiver said,
"Enoch, I want to go back to the camp."
Enoch rose at once, with a rueful little laugh. "Our first precious
evening is ended, and we've said nothing!"
"Nothing!" exclaimed Diana. "Enoch, what was there left to say when I
could touch your hair and forehead so? We can talk on the trail."
"Starlight and you and Na-che's little song," murmured Enoch; "I am
hard to satisfy, am I not?" He put his arms about Diana and kissed her
softly, then let her lead the way down to the spring. And shortly,
rolled in his blankets, his feet to the dying fire, Enoch was deep in
sleep.
Sun-up found them on the trail again. All day the way wound through
country that had been profoundly eroded. Na-che led by instinct, it
seemed, to Enoch, for when they were a few miles from the spring, as
far as he, at least, could observe, the trail disappeared, entirely.
During the morning, they walked much, for the over-hanging ledges and
sudden chasms along which Na-che guided them made even the horses
hesitate.
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