Plaintively from below rose Na-che's voice in a slow sweet chant. Jonas's baritone hesitatingly repeated the strain, and after a moment they softly sang it together. "Oh, this is perfect!" murmured Enoch. "Perfect!" Then he drew Diana's hand to his lips. How long they sat in silence listening to the wistful notes that floated up to them, neither could have told. But when the singing finally ceased, Diana, with a sudden shiver said, "Enoch, I want to go back to the camp." Enoch rose at once, with a rueful little laugh. "Our first precious evening is ended, and we've said nothing!" "Nothing!" exclaimed Diana. "Enoch, what was there left to say when I could touch your hair and forehead so? We can talk on the trail." "Starlight and you and Na-che's little song," murmured Enoch; "I am hard to satisfy, am I not?" He put his arms about Diana and kissed her softly, then let her lead the way down to the spring. And shortly, rolled in his blankets, his feet to the dying fire, Enoch was deep in sleep. Sun-up found them on the trail again. All day the way wound through country that had been profoundly eroded. Na-che led by instinct, it seemed, to Enoch, for when they were a few miles from the spring, as far as he, at least, could observe, the trail disappeared, entirely. During the morning, they walked much, for the over-hanging ledges and sudden chasms along which Na-che guided them made even the horses hesitate. They were obliged to depend on their canteens for water and there was no sign of forage for the horses and mules. Every one was glad when the noon hour came. "It will be better, to-night," explained Diana. "There are water holes known as Indian's Cups that we should reach before dark. They're sure to be full of water, for it has rained so much lately. The way will be far easier to-morrow, Enoch, so that we can talk as we go." They were standing by the horses, waiting for Jonas and Na-che to put the dishes in one of the packs. "Diana, do you realize that you made no comment whatever on what I told you yesterday? Didn't the story of Lucy seem wonderful to you?" "I was too deeply moved to make any very sane comment," replied Diana. "Enoch, will you let me see the diary?" "When I die, it is to be yours, but--" he hesitated, "it tells so many of my weaknesses, that I wouldn't like to be alive and feel that you know so much about them." He laughed a little sadly. "Yet you told Lucy them, didn't you?" insisted Diana with a smile. "Don't make me jealous of that person, Enoch!" "She was you!" returned Enoch, briefly. "To-night, I'll tell you, Lucy, some of the things you have forgotten." "You're a dear," murmured Diana, under her breath, turning to mount as Jonas and Na-che clambered into their saddles.