Diana feared the trail no more than Nucky feared MacDougal Street.  She was deeply interested in Nucky, turning and twisting constantly in her saddle to look at him.

“Do you like your mule, Enoch?  He’s a very nice mule.”

“Yes, but don’t turn round or you’ll fall.”

“How can I talk if I don’t turn round?  Do you like little girls?”

“I don’t know any little girls.  Turn round, Diana!”

“But you know me!”

“I won’t know you long if you don’t sit still in that saddle, Miss.”

“Do you like me, Enoch?”

Nucky groaned.  “Frank, if Diana don’t quit twisting, I’ll fall myself, even if she don’t!”

“Don’t bother Enoch, daughter!”

“I’m not bothering Enoch, Daddy.  I’m making conversation.  I like him, even if he has red hair.”

Nucky sighed, and tried to turn the trend of the small girl’s ideas.

“I’ll bet you don’t know what kind of stone that is yonder where the giant dripped blood.”

“There isn’t any giant’s blood!” exclaimed Diana scornfully.  “That is just red quartz!”

“Oh, and what’s the layer next to it?” demanded Nucky skeptically.

“That’s black basalt,” answered the little girl.  Then, leaning far out of the saddle to point to the depths below, “and that—­”

“Frank!” shouted Nucky.  “Diana is bound to fall!  I just can’t stand looking at her.”

This time Frank spoke sternly.  “Diana, don’t turn to look at Enoch again!” and the little girl obeyed.

Had Nucky been other than he was, he might have been amused and not a little charmed by Diana’s housewifely ways when they made camp that afternoon.  She helped to kindle the fire and to unpack the provisions.  She lent a hand at arranging the beds and set the table, all with eager docility and intelligence.  But Nucky, after doing the chores Frank set him, wandered off to a seat that commanded a wide view of the trail, where he remained in silent contemplation of the wonders before him until called to supper.

He was silent during the meal, giving no heed to Diana’s small attempts at conversation, and wandered early to his blankets.  In the morning, however, he was all boy again, even attempting once or twice to tease Diana, in a boy’s offhand manner.  That small person, however, had become conscious of the fact that Enoch was not interested in her, and she had withdrawn into herself with a pride and self-control that was highly amusing to her father.  Nor did she unbend during the day.

The return trip was made with but one untoward incident.  This occurred after they had reached the snow line.  Much of the snow had thawed and by late afternoon there was ice on the trail.  Frank led the way very gingerly and the mules often stopped of their own accord, while the guide roughened the path for them with the axe.  In spite of this care, as they rounded one last upper curve, Diana’s mule slipped, and it was only Diana’s lightning quickness in dismounting and the mule’s skill in throwing himself inward that saved them both.