The sun was setting when he reached the head of the trail on his way campward. All the world to the west, sky, peaks, mesas, sand and rock had turned to a burning rose color. The plateau edge, near his feet, was green. These were the only two colors in all the world. Enoch stood absorbed by beauty when a sound of voices came faintly from behind him.
His first thought was that Mack and Curly had stolen a march on him. His next was that strangers, who might recognize him, were near at hand. He started down the trail as rapidly as he dared. It was dusk when he reached the foot. For the last half of the trip voices had been floating down to him, as the newcomers threaded their way slowly but steadily. Enoch stood panting at the foot of the trail, listening acutely. A voice called. Another voice answered. Enoch suddenly lost all power to move. The full moon sailed silently over the plateau wall. Enoch, grasping his gun and his game bag, stood waiting.
A mule came swiftly down the last turn of the trail and headed for the spring. The man who was riding him pulled him back on his haunches with a "Whoa, you mule!" that echoed like a cannon shot. Then he flung himself off with another cry.
"Oh, boss! Oh, boss! Here he is, Miss Diana! O dear Lord, here he is! Boss! Boss! How come you to treat me so!"
And Jonas threw his arms around Enoch with a sob that could not be repressed.
Enoch put a shaking hand on Jonas' shoulder. "So you found your bad charge, old man, didn't you?"
"Me find you? No, boss, Miss Diana, she found you. Here she is!"
Diana dropped from her horse, slender and tall in her riding clothes.
"So Jonas' pain is relieved, eh, Mr. Huntingdon! Are you having a good holiday?"
"I told Jonas it was the most sensible thing a man could do, who was as tired as you are, but he would have it you'd die without him. If you don't want him, I'll take him away."
"You'd have to take me feet first, Miss Diana," said Jonas, with a grin. "Where's that Na-che?"
"Here she comes!" laughed Diana. "Poor Na-che! She hates to hurry! She's got a real grievance against you, Jonas."
Two pack mules lunged down the trail, followed by a squat figure on an Indian pony.
"This is Na-che, Mr. Huntingdon," said Diana.
