The way back was swifter but more nerve wracking than the upward climb had been. By the time he reached the green shale, Enoch was trembling from muscle and nerve strain. It was purple dusk now, by the river, with the castellated tops of butte and mountain molten gold in the evening sun. When he reached the brittle strata, the water reflected firelight from the still unseen camp blaze. Enoch, clinging perilously to the breaking rock, half faint with hunger, his fingers numb with the cold, laughed again, to himself, and said aloud:
"'. . . . . . . . . . . . . And yet Dauntless the slug horn to my lips I set And blew, Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came.'"
"Christ could forgive the unforgivable, but the Colorado in the Canyon is like the voice of God, inevitable, inexorable."--_Enoch's Diary_.
Jonas stood on a projecting rock peering anxiously down the river. Enoch, staggering wearily into the firelight, called to him cheerfully:
"My Gawd, boss!" exclaimed Jonas, running up to take the gunny sack and the gun. "Don't you never go off like that alone again. How come you stayed so late?"
"Now the Na-che's gone I suppose I'll have a few attentions again!" said Enoch. "How are you, Milton?"
He turned toward the stalwart figure that lay on the shadowy rock beyond the fire.
"Better than I deserve, Judge," replied Milton.
"What luck, Judge?" cried Harden, who had been watching a game of poker between Agnew and Forrester.
"My Lawdy Lawd!" shouted Jonas, emptying the gunny sack on the rock which served as table.
"What happened, Judge! Did you eat the rest raw?"
"A goat, by Jove! Where on earth did it come from?"
"What difference does that make? Get it into the pot, Jonas, for the love of heaven!"
"As a family provider, Judge, you are to be highly recommended."
Enoch squatted against Milton's rock and complacently lighted his pipe, then told his story.
"There are goats still here, then! I wish we'd see some," said Milton, when Enoch had finished.
"But what would they live on?" asked Enoch.
"That's easy," replied Milton. "There are hidden canyons and gulches in this Colorado country that are veritable little paradises, with all the verdure any one could ask for."
"Wish we could locate one," sighed Forrester.