The Enchanted Canyon

  CHAPTER XIV

  LOVE IN THE DESERT

  "While I was teaching my boy obedience, I would teach him his nextgreat obligation, service. So only could his manhood be a fullone."--_Enoch's Diary_.

  Shortly after two o'clock, Diana announced that she was ready to start.But the good-bys consumed considerable time and it was nearly threebefore they were really on their way. Enoch's eyes were a little dimas he shook hands with Milton.

  "Curly has my address, Milton," he said, "drop me a line once in awhile. I shall be more deeply interested in your success than you canrealize."

  "I'll do it, Judge, and when I get back East, I'll look you up. You'rea good sport, old man!"

  "You're more than that, Milton! Good-by!" and Enoch hurried out inresponse to Jonas' call.

  They were finally mounted and permitted to go. Na-che rode first,leading a pack mule, Jonas second, leading two mules, Diana followed,Enoch bringing up the rear. Much to Jonas' satisfaction, Enoch hadbeen obliged to abandon the overalls and flannel shirt which he hadworn into the Canyon. Even the tweed suit was too ragged and shrunk tobe used again. So he was clad in the corduroy riding breeches and coatthat Jonas had brought. But John Red Sun's boots were still doingnotable service and the soft hat, faded and shapeless, was pulled downover his eyes in comfort if not in beauty.

  There was a vague trail to the spring which lay southwest of the Ferry.It led through the familiar country of fissures and draws that madetravel slow and heavy. The trail rose, very gradually, wound around anumber of multi-colored peaks and paused at last at the foot of asmooth-faced, purple butte. Here grew a cottonwood, sheltering fromsun and sand a lava bowl, eroded by time and by the tiny stream ofwater that dripped into it gently. There was little or no view fromthe spring, for peaks and buttes closely hemmed it in. The Novembershadows deepened early on the strange, winding, almost subterraneantrail, and although when they reached the cottonwood, it was notsundown, they made camp at once. Diana's tent was set up in the sandto the right of the spring. Enoch collected a meager supply of woodand before five o'clock supper had been prepared and eaten.

  For a time, after this was done, Enoch and Diana sat before the tinyeye of fire, listening to the subdued chatter with which Jonas andNa-che cleared up the meal.

  Suddenly, Enoch said, "Diana, how brilliant the stars are, to-night!Why can't we climb to the top of the butte for a little while? I feelsmothered here. It's far worse than the river bottom."

  "Aren't you too tired?" asked Diana.

  "Not too tired for as short a climb as that, unless you are feelingdone up!"

  "I!" laughed Diana. "Why, Na-che will vouch for it that I've never hadsuch a lazy trip before! Na-che, the Judge and I are going up thebutte. Just keep a little glow of fire for us, will you, so that wecan locate the camp easily."

  "Yes, Diana, and don't be frightened if you hear noises. I'm going toteach Jonas a Navajo song."

  "We'll try not to be," replied Diana, laughing as she rose.

  It was an ascent of several hundred feet, but easily made and the viewfrom the top more than repaid them for the effort. In all his desertnights, Enoch never had seen the stars so vivid. For miles about themthe shadowy peaks and chasms were discernible. And Diana's face wasdelicately clear cut as she seated herself on a block of stone andlooked up at him.

  "Diana," said Enoch, abruptly, "you make me wish that I were a poet,instead of a politician."

  "But you aren't a politician!" protested Diana. "You shall not malignyourself so."

  "A pleasant comment on our American politics!" exclaimed Enoch. "Well,whatever I am, words fail me utterly when I try to describe the appealof your beauty."

  "Enoch," there was a note of protest in Diana's voice, "you aren'tgoing to make love to me on this trip, are you?"

  Enoch's voice expressed entire astonishment. "Why certainly I am,Diana!"

  "You'll make it very hard for me!" sighed Diana.

  Enoch knelt in the sand before her and lifted her hands against hischeek.

  "Sweetheart," he said softly, his great voice, rich and mellow althoughit hardly rose above a whisper, "my only sweetheart, not for all thelove in the world would I make it hard for you. Not for all your lovewould I even attempt to leave you with one memory that is not all thatis sweet and noble. Only in these days I want you to learn all thereis in my heart, as I must learn all that is in yours. For, after that,Diana, we must never see each other again."

  Diana freed one of her hands and brushed the tumbled hair from Enoch'sforehead.

  "Do you realize," he said, quietly, "that in all the years of my memoryno woman has caressed me so? I am starved, Diana, for just such agentle touch as that."

  "Then you shall be starved no more, dearest. Sit down in the sandbefore me and lean your head against my knee. There!" as Enoch turnedand obeyed her. "Now we can both look out at the stars and I cansmooth your hair. What a mass of it you have, Enoch! And you musthave been a real carrot top when you were a little boy."

  "I was an ugly brat," said Enoch, comfortably. "A red-headed,freckled-faced, awkward brat! And unhappy and disagreeable as I wasugly."

  "It seems so unfair!" Diana smoothed the broad forehead, tenderly. "Ihad such a happy childhood. I didn't go to school until I was twelve.Until then I lived the life of a little Indian, out of doors, takingthe trail trips with dad or geologizing with mother. I don't know howmany horses and dogs I had. Their number was limited only by whatmother and father felt they could afford to feed."

  "There was nothing unfair in your having had all the joy that could becrammed into your childhood," protested Enoch. "Nature andcircumstance were helping to make you what you are. I don't see thatanything could have been omitted. Listen, Diana."

  Plaintively from below rose Na-che's voice in a slow sweet chant.Jonas's baritone hesitatingly repeated the strain, and after a momentthey softly sang it together.

  "Oh, this is perfect!" murmured Enoch. "Perfect!" Then he drewDiana's hand to his lips.

  How long they sat in silence listening to the wistful notes thatfloated up to them, neither could have told. But when the singingfinally 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 preciousevening is ended, and we've said nothing!"

  "Nothing!" exclaimed Diana. "Enoch, what was there left to say when Icould touch your hair and forehead so? We can talk on the trail."

  "Starlight and you and Na-che's little song," murmured Enoch; "I amhard to satisfy, am I not?" He put his arms about Diana and kissed hersoftly, 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 insleep.

  Sun-up found them on the trail again. All day the way wound throughcountry that had been profoundly eroded. Na-che led by instinct, itseemed, to Enoch, for when they were a few miles from the spring, asfar as he, at least, could observe, the trail disappeared, entirely.During the morning, they walked much, for the over-hanging ledges andsudden chasms along which Na-che guided them made even the horseshesitate. They were obliged to depend on their canteens for water andthere was no sign of forage for the horses and mules. Every one wasglad when the noon hour came.

  "It will be better, to-night," explained Diana. "There are water holesknown as Indian's Cups that we should reach before dark. They're sureto be full of water, for it has rained so much lately. The way will befar easier to-morrow, Enoch, so that we can talk as we go."

  They were standing by the horses, waiting for Jonas and Na-che to putthe dishes in one of the packs.

  "Diana, do you realize that you made no comment whatever on what I toldyou yesterday? Didn't the story of Lucy seem wonderful to you?"

  "I was too deeply moved to make any very sane comment," replied Diana."Enoch, will you let me see the diary?"

  "When I die, it is to be yours, but--" he hesitated, "it tells so many
of my weaknesses, that I wouldn't like to be alive and feel that youknow so much about them." He laughed a little sadly.

  "Yet you told Lucy them, didn't you?" insisted Diana with a smile."Don't make me jealous of that person, Enoch!"

  "She was you!" returned Enoch, briefly. "To-night, I'll tell you,Lucy, some of the things you have forgotten."

  "You're a dear," murmured Diana, under her breath, turning to mount asJonas and Na-che clambered into their saddles.

  All the afternoon, Enoch, riding under the burning sun, through theever shifting miracles of color, rested in his happy dream. The pastand the future did not exist for him. It was enough that Diana,straight and slender and unflagging rode before him. It was enoughthat that evening after the years of yearning he would feel the touchof Lucy's hand on his burning forehead. For the first time in hislife, Enoch's spirit was at peace.

  The pools were well up on the desert, where pinnacles and buttes hadgiven way at last to a roughly level country, with only occasionalfissures as reminders of the canyon. Bear grass and yucca, barrel andfish-hook cactus as well as the ocotilla appeared. The sun was sinkingwhen the horses smelled water and cantered to the shallow but gratefulbasins. Far to the south, the chaos out of which they had labored wasblack, and mysterious with drifting vapors. The wind which whirledforever among the chasms was left behind. They had entered intosilence and tranquillity.

  After supper and while the last glow of the sunsets still clung to thewestern horizon, Na-che said,

  "Jonas, you want to see the great Navajo charm, made by Navajo god whenhe made these waterholes?"

  Jonas pricked up his ears. "Is it a good charm or a hoo-doo?"

  "If you come at it right, it means you never die," Na-che nodded herhead solemnly.

  Jonas put a cat's claw root on the fire. "All right! You see, woman,that I come at it right."

  Na-che smiled and led the way eastward.

  "Bless them!" exclaimed Enoch. "They're doing the very best they canfor us!"

  "And they're having a beautiful time with each other," added Diana. "Ithink Jonas loves you as much as Na-che loves me."

  "I don't deserve that much love," said Enoch, watching the fire glow onDiana's face. "But he is the truest friend I have on earth."

  Diana gave him a quick, wide-eyed glance.

  "Ah, but you don't know me, as Jonas does! I wouldn't want you to knowme as he does!" exclaimed Enoch.

  "I'll not admit either Lucy or Jonas as serious rivals," protestedDiana.

  Enoch laughed. "Dearest, I have told you things that Jonas would notdream existed. I have poured out my heart to you, night after night.All a boy's aching dreams, all a man's hopes and fears, I've sharedwith you. Jonas was not that kind of friend. I first met him when Ibecame secretary to the Mayor of New York. He was a sort of porter ordoorman at the City Hall. He gradually began to do little personalthings for me and before I realized just how it was accomplished, hebecame my valet and steward, and was keeping house for me in a littleflat up on Fourth Avenue.

  "And then, when I was still in the City Hall I had a row with Luigi.He spoke of my mother to a group of officials I was taking throughMinetta Lane.

  "Diana, it was Luigi who taught me to gamble when I was not over eightyears old. I took to it with devilish skill. What drink or dope orwomen have been to other men, gambling has been to me. After I cameback from the Grand Canyon with John Seaton, I began to fight againstit. But, although I waited on table for my board, I really put myselfthrough the High School on my earnings at craps and draw poker. As Igrew older I ceased to gamble as a means of subsistence but whenever Iwas overtaxed mentally I was drawn irresistibly to a gambling den. Andso after the fight with Luigi--"

  Enoch paused, his face knotted. His strong hands, clasping his kneesas he sat in the sand, opposite Diana, were tense and hard. Diana,looking at him thought of what this man meant to the nation, of whathis service had been and would be: she thought of the great gifts withwhich nature had endowed him and she could not bear to have him humblehimself to her.

  She sprang to her feet. "Enoch! Enoch!" she cried. "Don't tell meany more! You are entitled to your personal weaknesses. Even I mustnot intrude! I asked you about them because, oh, because, Enoch, youare letting your only real weakness come between you and me."

  Enoch had risen with Diana, and now he came around the fire and put hishands on her shoulders. "No! No! Diana! not my weaknesses keep usapart, bitterly as they mortify me."

  Diana looked up at him steadily. "Enoch, your great weakness is notgambling. Who cares whether you play cards or not? No one but Brown!But your weakness is that you have let those early years and Luigi'svicious stories warp your vision of the sweetest thing in life."

  "Diana! I thought you understood. My mother--"

  "Don't!" interrupted Diana, quickly. "Don't! I understand and becauseI do, I tell you that you are warped. You are America's only realstatesman, the man with a vision great enough to mold ideals for thenation. Still you are not normal, not sane, about yourself."

  Enoch dropped his hands from her shoulders and stood staring at hersadly.

  "I thought you understood!" he whispered, brokenly.

  Diana wrung her hands, turned and walked swiftly toward a neighboringheap of rocks whose shadows swallowed her. Enoch breathed hard for amoment, then followed. He found Diana, a vague heap on a great stone,her face buried in her hands. Enoch sat down beside her and took herin his arms.

  "Sweetheart," he whispered, "what have I done?"

  Diana, shaken by dry sobs, did not reply. But she put her arms abouthis neck and clung to him as though she could never let him go. Enochsat holding her in an ecstasy that was half pain. Dusk thickened intonight and the stars burned richly above them. Enoch could see thatDiana's face against his breast was quiet, her great eyes fastened onthe desert. He whispered again,

  "Diana, what have I done?"

  "You have made me love you so that I cannot bear to think of thefuture," she replied. "It was not wise of us to take this triptogether, Enoch."

  Enoch's arms tightened about her. "We'll be thankful all our lives forit, Diana. And you haven't really answered my question, darling!"

  Diana drew herself away from him. "Enoch, let's never mention thesubject again. The things you understand by weakness--why, I don'tcare if you have a thousand of them! But, dear, I want the diary.When you leave El Tovar, leave that much of yourself with me."

  Enoch's voice was troubled. "I have been so curiously lonely! You canhave no idea of what the diary has meant to me."

  "I won't ask you for it, Enoch!" exclaimed Diana. Suddenly she leanedforward in the moonlight and kissed him softly on the lips.

  Enoch drew her to him and kissed her fiercely. "The diary! It isyours, Diana, yours in a thousand ways. When you read it, you willunderstand why I hesitated to give it to you."

  "I'll find some way to thank you," breathed Diana.

  "I know a way. Give me some of your desert photographs. Choose thosethat you think tell the most. And don't forget Death and the Navajo."

  "Oh, Enoch! What a splendid suggestion! You've no idea how I shallenjoy making the collection for you. It will take several months tocomplete it, you know."

  "Don't wait to complete the collection. Send the prints one at a time,as you finish them. Send them to my house, not my office."

  Soft voices sounded from the camping place. "We must go back," saidDiana.

  "Another evening gone, forever," said Enoch. "How many more have we,Diana?"

  "Three or four. One never knows, in the Canyon country."

  They moved slowly, hand in hand, toward the firelight. Just beforethey came within its zone, Enoch lifted Diana's hand to his lips.

  "Good night, Diana!"

  "Good night, Enoch!"

  Jonas and Na-che, standing by the fire like two brown genii of thedesert, looked up smiling as the two appeared.

  "Ain't they a hands
ome pair, Na-che?" asked Jonas, softly. "Ain't he agrand looking man?"

  Na-che assented. "I wish I could get each of 'em to wear a love ring.I could get two the best medicine man in the desert country made."

  "Where are they?" demanded Jonas eagerly.

  "Up near Bright Angel."

  "You get 'em and I'll pay for 'em," urged Jonas.

  "We can't buy 'em! They got to be taken."

  "Well, how come you to think I couldn't take 'em, woman? You show mewhere they are. I'll do the rest."

  "All right," said Na-che. "Diana, don't you feel tired?"

  "Tired enough to go to bed, anyway," replied Diana. "It's going to bea very cold night. Be sure that you and the Judge have plenty ofblankets, Jonas. Good night!" and she disappeared into the tent.

  The night was stinging cold. Ice formed on the rain pools and they atebreakfast with numbed hands. As usual, however, the mercury began toclimb with the sun and when at mid-morning, they entered a huge purpledepression in the desert, coats were peeled and gloves discarded.

  The depression was an ancient lava bed, deep with lavender dust thatrose chokingly about them. There was a heavy wind that increased asthey rode deeper into the great bowl and this, with the swirling sand,made the noon meal an unpleasant duty. But, in spite of thesediscomforts, Enoch managed to ride many miles, during the day, with hishorse beside Diana's. And he talked to her as though he must in theshort five days make up for a life time of reticence.

  He told her of the Seatons and all that John Seaton had done for him.He told her of his years of dreaming of the Canyon and of his days asPolice Commissioner. He told of dreams he had had as a Congressman andas a Senator and of the great hopes with which he had taken up the workof the Secretary of the Interior. And finally, as the wind began tolessen with the sinking sun, and the tired horses slowed to the trail'slifting from the bowl, he told her of his last speaking trip, of itspurpose and of its results.

  "The more I know you," said Diana, "the more I am confirmed in theopinion I had of you years before I met you. And that is that howeverour great Departments need men of your administrative capacity andintegrity--and I'm perfectly willing to admit that their need isdire--your place, Enoch Huntingdon, is in the Senate. Yet I supposeyour party will insist on pushing you on into the White House. And itwill be a mistake."

  "Why?" asked Enoch quickly.

  "Because," replied Diana, brushing the lavender dust from her brownhands thoughtfully, "your gift of oratory, your fundamental, sanedreams for the nation, your admirable character, impose a particularand peculiar duty on you. It has been many generations since thenation had a spokesman. Patrick Henry, Daniel Webster, have been deada long time. Most of our orators since have killed their own influenceby fanatical clinging to some partisan cause. You should be biggerthan any party, Enoch. And in the White House you cannot be. Ourspoils system has achieved that. But in the Senate is your great,natural opportunity."

  Enoch smiled. "Without the flourishes of praise, I've reached aboutthe same conclusion that you have," he said. "I have been told," hehesitated, "that I could have the party nomination for the presidency,if I wished it. You know that practically assures election."

  Diana nodded. "And it's a temptation, of course!"

  "Yes and no!" replied Enoch. "No man could help being moved andflattered, yes, and tempted by the suggestion. And yet when I think ofthe loneliness of a man like me in the White House, the loneliness, andthe gradual disillusionment such as the President spoke of you, thetemptation has very little effect on me."

  "How kind he was that day!" exclaimed Diana, "and how many years ago itseems!"

  They rode on in silence for a few moments, then Diana exclaimed, "Look,Enoch dear!"

  Ahead of them, along the rim of the bowl, an Indian rode. His longhair was flying in the wind. Both he and his horse were silhouettedsharply against the brilliant western sky.

  "Make a picture of it, Diana!" cried Enoch.

  Diana shook her head. "I could make nothing of it!"

  Na-che gave a long, shrill call, which the Indian returned, then pulledup his horse to wait for them. When Enoch and Diana reached the rim,the others already had overtaken him.

  "It's Wee-tah!" exclaimed Diana, then as she shook hands, she added:"Where are you going so fast, Wee-tah?"

  The Indian, a handsome young buck, his hair bound with a knottedhandkerchief, glanced at Enoch and answered Diana in Navajo.

  Diana nodded, then said: "Judge, this is Wee-tah, a friend of mine."

  Enoch and the Indian shook hands gravely, and Diana said, "Can't youtake supper with us, Wee-tah?"

  "You stay, Wee-tah," Na-che put in abruptly. "Jonas and I want you tohelp us with a charm."

  "Na-che says you know a heap about charms, Mr. Wee-tah!" exclaimedJonas.

  Wee-tah grinned affably. "I stay," he said. "Only the whites have tohurry. Good water hole right there." He jerked his thumb over hisshoulder, then turned his pony and led the way a few hundred yards to alow outcropping of stones, the hollowed top of which held a fewprecious gallons of rain water.

  "My Lordy!" exclaimed Jonas, as he and Enoch were hobbling theirhorses, "if I don't have some charms and hoo-doos to put over on thoseBaptist folks back home! Why, these Indians have got even a Georgianigger beat for knowing the spirits."

  "Jonas, you're an old fool, but I love you!" said Enoch.

  Jonas chuckled, and hurried off to help Na-che with the supper. Thestunted cat's claw and mesquite which grew here plentifully madepossible a glorious fire that was most welcome, for the evening wascold. Enoch undertook to keep the big blaze going while Wee-tahprepared a small fire at a little distance for cooking purposes. Aftersupper the two Indians and Jonas gathered round this while Enoch andDiana remained at what Jonas designated as the front room stove.

  "What solitary trip was Wee-tah undertaking?" asked Enoch. "Or mustn'tI inquire?"

  "On one of the buttes in the canyon country," replied Diana, "Wee-tah'sgrandfather, a great chief, was killed, years ago. Wee-tah is going upto that butte to pray for his little son who has never been born."

  "Ah!" said Enoch, and fell silent. Diana, in her favorite attitude,hands clasping her knees, watched the fire. At last Enoch rousedhimself.

  "Shall you come to Washington this winter, Diana?"

  "I ought to, but I may not. I may go into the Havesupai country fortwo months, after you go East, and put Washington off until latespring."

  "Don't fear that I shall disturb you, when you come, dear." Enochlooked at Diana with troubled eyes.

  She looked at him, but said nothing, and again there was silence.Enoch emptied his pipe and put it in his pocket.

  "After you have finished this work for the President, then what, Diana?"

  She shook her head. "There is plenty of time to plan for that. If Igo into the angle of the children's games and their possible relationsto religious ceremonies, there's no telling when I shall wind up! Thenthere are their superstitions that careful study might separate clearlyfrom their true spiritism. The great danger in work like mine is thatit is apt to grow academic. In the pursuit of dry ethnological factsone forgets the artistry needed to preserve it and present it to theworld."

  "Whew!" sighed Enoch. "I'm afraid you're a fearful highbrow, Diana!Hello, Jonas, what can I do for you?"

  "We all are going down the desert a piece with Wee-tah. They's a charmdown there he knows about. They think we'll be gone about an hour.But don't worry about us."

  "Don't let the ghosts get you, old man,", said Enoch. "After allyou've lived through, that would be too simple."

  Jonas grinned, and followed the Indians out into the darkness.

  "Now," inquired Enoch, "is that tact or superstition?"

  "Both, I should say," replied Diana. "We'll have to agree that Na-cheand Jonas are doing all they can to make the match. I gather from whatNa-che says that they're working mostly on love charms for us."

  "Mor
e power to 'em," said Enoch grimly. "Diana, let's walk out underthe stars for a little while. The fire dims them."

  They rose, and Enoch put his arm about the girl and said, with atenderness in his beautiful voice that seemed to Diana a very part ofthe harmony of the glowing stars:

  "Diana! Oh, Diana! Diana!"

  She wondered as they moved slowly away from the fire, if Enoch had anyconception of the beauty of his voice. It seemed to her to express theman even more fully than his face. All the sweetness, all thevirility, all the suffering, all the capacity for joy that was writtenin Enoch's face was expressed in his voice, with the addition of amelodiousness that only tone could give. Although she never had heardhim make a speech she knew how even his most commonplace sentence mustwing home to the very heart of the hearer.

  They said less, in this hour alone together, than they said in anyevening of their journey. And yet they both felt as if it was the mostnearly perfect of their hours.

  Perhaps it was because the sky was more magnificent than it had beenbefore; the stars larger and nearer and the sky more deeply, richlyblue.

  Perhaps it was because after the dusk and heat of the day, the uproarof the sand and wind, the cool silence was doubly impressive and thricegrateful.

  And perhaps it was because of some wordless, intangible reason, thatonly lovers know, which made Diana seem more beautiful, more pure, hertouch more sacred, and Enoch stronger, finer, tenderer than ever before.

  At any rate, walking slowly, with their arms about each other, theywere deeply happy.

  And Enoch said, "Diana, I know now that not one moment of theloneliness and the bitterness of the years, would I part with. All ofit serves to make this moment more perfect."

  And suddenly Diana said, "Enoch, hold me close to you again, here,under the stars, so that I may never again look at them, when I'm alonein the desert, without feeling your dear arms about me, and your dearcheek against mine."

  And when they were back by the fire again, Enoch once more leanedagainst Diana's knee and felt the soft touch of her hand on his hairand forehead.

  The three magic-makers returned, chanting softly, as magic-makersshould. Faint and far across the desert sounded the intriguing rhythmlong before the three dark faces were caught by the firelight. Whenthey finally appeared, Jonas was bearing an eagle's feather.

  "Miss Diana," he said solemnly, "will you give me one of your longhairs?"

  Quite as solemnly, Diana plucked a long chestnut spear and Jonaswrapped it round the stem of the feather. Then he joined the other twoat the water hole. Enoch and Diana looked at each other with a smile.

  "Do you think it will work, Diana?" asked Enoch.

  "Eagle feather magic is strong magic," replied Diana. "I shall go tosleep believing in it. Good night, Enoch."

  "Good night, Diana."

  Wee-tah left them after breakfast, cantering away briskly on his pony,his long hair blowing, Na-che and Jonas shouting laughingly after him.

  It was a brisk, clear morning, with ribbons of mist blowing across thedistant ranges. By noon, their way was leading through scatteredgrowths of stunted cedar and juniper with an occasional gnarled,undersized oak in which grew mistletoe thick-hung with ivory berries.Bear grass and bunch grass dotted the sand. Orioles and robins sang asthey foraged for the blue cedar berry. All the afternoon the treesincreased in size and when they made camp at night, it was under agiant pine whose kindred stretched in every direction as far as the eyecould pierce through the dusk. There was water in a tiny rivulet nearby.

  "It's heavenly, Diana!" exclaimed Enoch, as he returned from hobblingthe horses. "We must be getting well up as to elevation. There is atang to the air that says so."

  Diana nodded a little sadly. "One night more, after this, then you'llsleep at El Tovar, Enoch."

  "I'm not thinking even of to-morrow, Diana. This moment is enough.Are you tired?"

  "Tired? No!" but the eyes she lifted to Enoch's were faintly shadowed."Perhaps," she suggested, "I'm not living quite so completely in thepresent as you are."

  "Necessity hasn't trained you during the years, as it has me," saidEnoch. "If the trail had not been so bad to-day and I could haveridden beside you, I think I could have kept your thoughts here,sweetheart."

  "I think you could have, Enoch," agreed Diana, with a wistful smile.

  The hunting had been good that day. Amongst them, the travelers hadbagged numerous quail and cottontails, and Jonas had brought in at noona huge jack rabbit. This they could not eat but its left hind foot,Jonas claimed, would make a sensation in Washington. Supper was afestive meal, Na-che producing a rabbit soup, and Jonas broiling thequail, which he served with hot biscuit that the most accomplished chefmight have envied.

  After the meal was finished and Enoch and Diana were standing beforethe fire, debating the feasibility of a walk under the pines, Jonas andNa-che approached them solemnly.

  Jonas cleared his throat. "Boss and Miss Diana, Na-che and me, we wantyou to do something for us. We know you all trust us both and so wedon't want you to ask the why or the wherefore, but just go ahead anddo it."

  "What is it, Jonas?" asked Diana.

  "Well, up ahead a spell in these woods, there's a round open space andin the middle of it under a big rock an Injun and his sweetheart isburied. Something like a million years ago he stole her from overyonder from the--" he hesitated, and Na-che said softly:

  "Hopis."

  "Yes, the Hopis. And her tribe come lickety-cut after her, andovertook 'em at that spot yonder, and her father give her the choice ofcoming back or both of 'em dying right there. They chose to die, andthere they are. Wee-tah and Na-che and all the Injuns believe--"

  Na-che pulled at his sleeve.

  "Oh, I forgot! We ain't going to tell you what they believe, becausewhites don't never have the right kind of faith. Let me alone, Na-che.How come you think I can't tell this story? But what we ask of you is,will you and Miss Allen, boss, go up to that stone yonder, and lay thiseagle's feather beside it, then sit on the stone until a star falls."

  Enoch and Diana looked at each other, half smiling.

  "Don't say no," urged Na-che. "You want to take a walk, anyhow."

  "And what happens, if the star falls?" asked Diana.

  "Something mighty good," replied Jonas.

  "It's pretty cold for sitting still so long, isn't Jonas?" asked Enoch.

  "You can take a blanket to wrap round yourselves. Do it, boss! Youknow you and Miss Diana don't care where you are as long as you get alittle time alone together."

  Enoch laughed. "Come along, Diana! Who knows what Indian magic mightdo for us!"

  "That's right," Na-che nodded approval. "There's an old trail to it,see!" she led Diana beyond the camp pine, and pointed to the faintblack line, that was traceable in the sand under the trees. The pineforest was absolutely clear of undergrowth.

  "Come on, Enoch," laughed Diana, and Enoch, chuckling, joined her,while the two magicians stood by the fire, interest and satisfactionshowing in every line of their faces.

  Diana had little difficulty following the trail. To Enoch'sunaccustomed eyes and feet, the ease with which she led the way wasastonishing. She walked swiftly under the trees for ten minutes, thenpaused on the edge of a wide amphitheater, rich in starlight. In thecenter lay a huge flat stone. They made their way through the sand tothis. Dimly they could discern that the sides of the rock were coveredwith hieroglyphics. Diana laid the eagle's feather in a crevice at theend of the rock.

  "See!" exclaimed Enoch. "Other lovers have been here before!" Hepointed to feathers at different points in the rock. "It must indeedbe strong magic!"

  He folded one blanket for a seat, another he pulled over theirshoulders, for in spite of the brisk walk, they both were shiveringwith the cold.

  "What do you suppose the world at large would say," chuckled Diana, "ifit would see the Secretary of the Interior, at this moment."

  "I think it would say that as
a human being, it was beginning to havehope of him," replied Enoch.

  Then they fell silent. The great trees that widely encircled them weremotionless. The heavens seemed made of stars. Enoch drew Diana closeagainst him, and leaned his cheek upon her hair. Slowly a jack rabbitloped toward the ancient grave, stopped to gaze with burning eyes atthe two motionless figures, twitched his ears and slowly hopped away.Shortly a cottontail deliberately crossed the circle, then another andanother. Suddenly Diana touched Enoch's hand softly.

  "In the trees, opposite!" she breathed.

  Two pairs of fiery eyes moved slowly out until the starlight revealedtwo tiny antelope, gray, graceful shadows of the desert night. Thepair stared motionless at the ancient grave, then gently trotted away.Now came a long interval in which neither sound nor motion wasperceptible in the silvery dusk. Then like little gray ghosts withglowing eyes half a dozen antelope moved tranquilly across theamphitheater. Enoch and Diana watched breathlessly but for manymoments more there was no sign of living creature. And suddenly agreat star flashed across the radiant heavens.

  "The magic!" whispered Diana, "the desert magic!"

  "Diana," murmured Enoch in reply, "this is as near heaven as mortalsmay hope to reach."

  "Desert magic!" repeated Diana softly. "Come, dear, we must go back tocamp."

  Enoch rose reluctantly and put his hands on Diana's shoulders. "Thoselovers, long ago," he said, his deep voice tender and wistful, "thoselovers long ago were not far wrong in their decision. I'm sure, in theyears to come, when I think of this evening, and this journey, I shallfeel so."

  Diana touched his cheek softly with her hand. "I love you, Enoch," wasall she said, and they returned in silence to the camp.

  "We saw the star fall!" exclaimed Jonas, waiting by the fire withNa-che.

  Enoch nodded and, after a glance at his face, Jonas said nothing more.

  All the next day they penetrated deeper and deeper into the mightyforest. All day long the trail lifted gradually, the air growing rarerand colder as they went.

  It was biting cold when they made their night camp deep in the woods.But a glorious fire before a giant tree trunk made the last evening onthe trail one of comfort. Na-che and Jonas had run out of excuses forleaving the lovers alone, but nothing daunted, after supper was clearedoff they made their own camp fire at a distance and sat before it,singing and laughing even after Diana had withdrawn to her tent.

  "Enoch," said Diana, "I have something that I want to say to you, butI'll admit that it takes more courage than I've been able to gathertogether until now. But this is our last evening and I must relieve mymind."

  Enoch, surprised by the earnestness of Diana's voice, laid down hispipe and put his hand over hers. "I don't see why you need courage tosay anything under heaven to me!"

  "But I do on this subject," returned Diana, raising wide, troubled eyesto his. "Enoch, you have made me love you and then have told me thatyou cannot marry me. I think that I have the right to tell you thatyou are abnormal toward marriage. You are spoiling our two lives and Iam entering a most solemn protest against your doing so."

  "But, Diana--" began Enoch.

  "No!" interrupted Diana. "You must hear me through in silence, Enoch.I remember my father telling me that Seaton believed that you had beenmade the victim of almost hypnotic suggestion by that beast, Luigi.Not that Luigi knew anything about auto-suggestion or anything of thesort! He simply wanted to enslave a boy who was a clever gambler. Andso he planted the vicious suggestion in your mind that you werenecessarily bad because your mother was. And all these years, thatsuggestion has held, not to make you bad but to make you fear that yourchildren would be or that disease, mental or physical, is latent in youwhich marriage would uncover. Enoch, have you never talked your caseover with a psychologist?"

  "No!" replied Enoch. "I've always felt that I was perfectly normal andI still feel so. Moreover, I've wanted to bury my mother's history athousand fathoms deep. Consider too, that I've never wanted to marryany woman till I met you."

  "And having met me," said Diana bitterly, "you allow a preconceivedidea to wreck us both. You astonish me almost as much as you make mesuffer. Enoch, did you ever try to trace your father?"

  "Diana, what chance would I have of finding my father when you considerwhat my mother was? Nevertheless, I have tried." And Enoch told indetail both Seaton's and the Police Commissioner's efforts in hisbehalf.

  Diana rose and paced restlessly up and down before the fire. Enochrose with her and stood leaning against the tree trunk, watching herwith tragic eyes. Finally Diana said:

  "I'm not clever at argument, but every woman has a right to fight forher mate. I insist that your reasons for not marrying are chimeras.And if I'm willing to risk marrying the man who may or may not be theson of Luigi's mistress, he should be willing to risk marrying me."

  "But, you see, you do admit it's a risk!" exclaimed Enoch.

  "No more a risk than marriage always is," declared Diana, with a smilethat had no humor in it. "Enoch, let's not be cowardly. Let's 'setthe slug horn dauntless to our lips.'"

  Enoch covered his eyes with his hands. Cold sweat stood on his brow.All the ugly, menacing suggestions of thirty years crowded his answerto his lips.

  "Diana, we must not!" he groaned.

  Diana drew a quick breath, then said, "Enoch, I cannot submit tamely tosuch a decision. I have a friend in Boston who is one of the greatpsycho-analysts of the country. When I return to Washington in thespring I shall go to see him."

  "God! Shall I never be able to bury Minetta Lane?" cried Enoch.

  "Not until you dig the grave yourself, my dear! Yours has been a casefor a mind specialist, all these years, not a detective. I, for one,refuse to let Minetta Lane hag ride me if it is possible to escape it."Suddenly she smiled again. "I'll admit I'm not at all Victorian in myattitude."

  "You couldn't be anything that was not fine," returned Enoch sadly."But I cannot bear to have you buoy yourself with false hopes."

  "A drowning woman grasps at straws, I suppose," said Diana, a littlebrokenly. "Good night, my dearest," and Diana went into the tent,leaving Enoch to ponder heavily over the fire until the cold drove himto his blankets.

  Breaking camp the next morning was dreary and arduous enough. Snow wasstill falling, the mules were recalcitrant and a bitter wind had pileddrifts in every direction. The four travelers were in a subdued mood,although Enoch heartened himself considerably by urging Diana toremember that they had still to look forward to the trip down BrightAngel.

  They floundered through the snow for two heavy hours before Dianalooked back at Enoch to say,

  "We're only a mile from the cabin now, Enoch!"

  "Only a mile!" exclaimed Enoch. "Diana, I wonder what your father willsay when he sees me!"

  "He thinks you are two thousand miles from here!" laughed Diana."We'll see what he will say."

  "And so," murmured Enoch to himself, "any perfect journey is ended."

  BOOK IV

  THE PHANTASM DESTROYED