“I think it would say that as a human being, it was beginning to have hope of him,” replied Enoch.

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

“In the trees, opposite!” she breathed.

Two pairs of fiery eyes moved slowly out until the starlight revealed two tiny antelope, gray, graceful shadows of the desert night.  The pair stared motionless at the ancient grave, then gently trotted away.  Now came a long interval in which neither sound nor motion was perceptible in the silvery dusk.  Then like little gray ghosts with glowing eyes half a dozen antelope moved tranquilly across the amphitheater.  Enoch and Diana watched breathlessly but for many moments more there was no sign of living creature.  And suddenly a great star flashed across the radiant heavens.

“The magic!” whispered Diana, “the desert magic!”

“Diana,” murmured Enoch in reply, “this is as near heaven as mortals may hope to reach.”

“Desert magic!” repeated Diana softly.  “Come, dear, we must go back to camp.”

Enoch rose reluctantly and put his hands on Diana’s shoulders.  “Those lovers, long ago,” he said, his deep voice tender and wistful, “those lovers long ago were not far wrong in their decision.  I’m sure, in the years to come, when I think of this evening, and this journey, I shall feel so.”

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

“We saw the star fall!” exclaimed Jonas, waiting by the fire with Na-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 mighty forest.  All day long the trail lifted gradually, the air growing rarer and 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 on the trail one of comfort.  Na-che and Jonas had run out of excuses for leaving the lovers alone, but nothing daunted, after supper was cleared off 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, but I’ll admit that it takes more courage than I’ve been able to gather together until now.  But this is our last evening and I must relieve my mind.”

Enoch, surprised by the earnestness of Diana’s voice, laid down his pipe and put his hand over hers.  “I don’t see why you need courage to say anything under heaven to me!”