When Diana turned to look at him there were tears in her eyes.

“I’ve always been glad that I was not ugly,” she said, “but now,”—­smiling through wet lashes—­“you make me proud of it, though I can’t see how the thought of it can—­”

She paused and Enoch went on eagerly:  “It’s a seamy, rough world, Diana, all higgledy-piggledy.  The beautiful souls are misplaced in ugly carcasses and the ugly souls in beautiful.  Those who might be friends and lovers too often meet only to grieve that it is too late for their joy.  In such a world, when one beholds a body that nature has chiseled and molded and polished to loveliness like yours and discovers that that loveliness is a true index of the intelligence and fineness of the character dwelling in the body—­well, Diana, it gives one a new thought about God.  It does, indeed!”

“Enoch, I don’t deserve it!  I truly don’t!” looking at him with that curious mingling of tenderness and courtesy and understanding in her wide eyes that made Diana unique.

Enoch only smiled and again silence fell between them.  Finally, Enoch said,

“I would like to go down the river with Milton and his crowd.”

Diana’s voice was startled.  “O no, Enoch!  It’s a frightfully dangerous trip!  You risk your life every moment.”

“I want to risk my life,” returned Enoch.  “I want a real man’s adventure.  I’ve got a battle inside of me to fight that will rend me unless I have one of equal proportions to fight, externally.”

A loud halloo sounded from above.  “There’s Na-che!” exclaimed Diana.  “We’ll talk this over later, Enoch.”

But Enoch shook his head.  “No, Diana, please!  I’ve dreamed all my life of this canyon trip.  You mustn’t dissuade me.  Milton will be starting to-morrow and I’m going to crowd in, somehow.”

Na-che called again.  Diana turned silently and in silence they returned to the end of the broken trail.  Here they explained to Na-che the conditions of the trail beyond and that they had determined to give up the expedition for that day.

“I doubt if I try to investigate it at all, on this trip,” said Diana, when they had made the difficult ascent to the plateau.  “I really ought to get into the Hopi country.  My conscience is troubling me.”

Na-che looked disappointed.  “That is a good camp, by the river,” she said.  “But maybe,” eagerly, “the Judge and Jonas will come with us.”

“You like Jonas, don’t you, Na-che?” asked Enoch.

The Indian woman laughed and tossed her head, but did not answer.

It was only four o’clock when they reached camp, but already dusk was settling in the Canyon.  A good fire was going in front of the cave and Jonas was guarding his stew which simmered over a smaller blaze near Diana’s tent.  Na-che lifted the lid of the kettle, sniffed and turned away with a shrug of her shoulders.

“What’s troubling you, woman?” demanded Jonas.