“The going is pretty stiff,” said Harden, with a grin, glancing at his steaming legs.

“Boss,” Jonas turned the nugget over and over, “let’s have a try at these ructions, before we go back!”

“Are you game to take to the boats, Jonas?” asked Enoch.

“No, boss, we’ll just go over the hills, like Miss Diana does.  For the Lord’s sake, who’d want to go back to—­”

“Jonas,” interrupted Diana.  “If you and Na-che will put together a lunch for us, the Judge and I will get started.”

“I didn’t quite get your name, sir,” said Milton to Enoch.

“Just Smith,” called Curly, from over his pan of gravel.  “Mr. Just Smith!  Judge, for short.”

“Oh!” Milton continued to stare at Enoch in a puzzled way.  “I beg your pardon!  Come on, Harden, you’re pretty well steamed out.  Let’s go back and see what we can salvage, while Ag and Forr begin to overhaul the stuff we’ve already pulled out.”

Not a half hour later, Enoch, Diana and Na-che were making their way slowly up the plateau trail, not however, to climb up the old trail to the main land.  They turned midway toward their right.  There was no trail, but Enoch knew the way by the distant peaks.  They traveled afoot, single file, each with a canteen, a little packet of food and Na-che with the camera tripod, while Enoch insisted on toting the camera and the coil of rope.  The sun was hot on the plateau and the way very rough.  They climbed constantly over ragged boulders, and chaotic rock heaps, or rounded deep fissures that cut the plateau like spider webs.  Muscular and in good form as was the trio, frequent rests were necessary.  They had one mishap.  Na-che, lagging behind, slipped into a fissure.  Enoch and Diana blanched at her sudden scream and ran back as she disappeared.  Mercifully a great rock had tumbled into the crevice some time before and Na-che landed squarely on this, six feet below the surface.  When Diana and Enoch peered over, she was sitting calmly on the rock, still clinging to the tripod.

“I lost my lunch!” she grumbled as she looked up at them.

Diana laughed.  “You may have mine!  Better no lunch than no Na-che.  Give us hold of the end of the tripod, honey, and we’ll help you out.”

A few moments of strenuous scrambling and pulling and Na-che was on the plateau brushing the sand from her clothes.

“Sit down and get your breath, Na-che,” said Enoch.

“I’m fine!  I don’t need to sit,” answered Na-che.  “Let’s get along.”  She started on briskly.

“I suppose things like that are of daily occurrence!” exclaimed Enoch.  “Miss Allen, don’t you think you could be more careful!”

Again Diana laughed.  “It wasn’t I who slipped into the crevice!”

“No, but I’ll wager you’ve had many an accident.”

“That’s where part of the fun comes in.  Why, only yesterday we had the most thrilling escape.  We—­”