Enoch moistened his lips. "What's the story, Curly?" he asked evenly.
Curly filled and lighted his pipe. But before he could answer Enoch, Mack said;
"Sleep on it, Curly. Mud slinging's bad business. Sleep on it!"
"I've a great contempt for Brown," said Enoch. "I'm a good deal tempted to help you out, that is, if it is to the interest of the public that the story be told."
"It will interest the public. You can bet on that!" Curly laughed sardonically. Then he rose, with a yawn. "But it's late and we'll finish the story to-morrow night. Judge, I have a hunch you're my man! I sabez there's heap devil in you, if we could once get you mad."
Enoch shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps!" he said, and he unrolled his blankets for bed.
But it was long before he slept. The hand of fate was on him, he told himself. How else could he have been led in all the wide desert to find this man who held Brown's future in his hands? Suddenly Enoch saw himself returning to Washington with power to punish as he had been punished. His feeble protests to Curly were swept away. He felt the blood rush to his temples. And anger that had so far been submerged by pain and shame suddenly claimed its hour. His rage was not only at Brown. Luigi, his mother, most of all this woman who had been his mother, claimed his fury. The bitterness and humiliation of a lifetime burst through the gates of his self-control. He stole from the cave to the sandy shore and there he strode up and down like a madman. He was physically exhausted long before the tempest subsided. But gradually he regained his self-control and slipped back into his blankets. There, with the thought of vengeance sweet on his lips, he fell asleep.
Curly was, of course, entirely engrossed the next day by his mining operations. Enoch had not expected or wished him to be otherwise. He felt that he needed the day alone to get a grip on himself.
That afternoon he climbed up the plateau to the entering trail, up the trail to the desert. He was full of energy. He was conscious of a purposefulness and a keen interest in life to which he had long been a stranger. As he filled the gunny sack which he carried for a game bag with quail and rabbits, he occasionally laughed aloud. He was thinking of the expression that would appear on Curly's face if he learned into whose hands he was putting his dynamite?
The sun was setting when he reached the head of the trail on his way campward. All the world to the west, sky, peaks, mesas, sand and rock had turned to a burning rose color. The plateau edge, near his feet, was green. These were the only two colors in all the world. Enoch stood absorbed by beauty when a sound of voices came faintly from behind him.
His first thought was that Mack and Curly had stolen a march on him. His next was that strangers, who might recognize him, were near at hand. He started down the trail as rapidly as he dared. It was dusk when he reached the foot. For the last half of the trip voices had been floating down to him, as the newcomers threaded their way slowly but steadily. Enoch stood panting at the foot of the trail, listening acutely. A voice called. Another voice answered. Enoch suddenly lost all power to move. The full moon sailed silently over the plateau wall. Enoch, grasping his gun and his game bag, stood waiting.
A mule came swiftly down the last turn of the trail and headed for the spring. The man who was riding him pulled him back on his haunches with a "Whoa, you mule!" that echoed like a cannon shot. Then he flung himself off with another cry.
"Oh, boss! Oh, boss! Here he is, Miss Diana! O dear Lord, here he is! Boss! Boss! How come you to treat me so!"
And Jonas threw his arms around Enoch with a sob that could not be repressed.
Enoch put a shaking hand on Jonas' shoulder. "So you found your bad charge, old man, didn't you?"
"Me find you? No, boss, Miss Diana, she found you. Here she is!"
Diana dropped from her horse, slender and tall in her riding clothes.
"So Jonas' pain is relieved, eh, Mr. Huntingdon! Are you having a good holiday?"
"Great!" replied Enoch huskily.
"I told Jonas it was the most sensible thing a man could do, who was as tired as you are, but he would have it you'd die without him. If you don't want him, I'll take him away."
"You'd have to take me feet first, Miss Diana," said Jonas, with a grin. "Where's that Na-che?"
"Here she comes!" laughed Diana. "Poor Na-che! She hates to hurry! She's got a real grievance against you, Jonas."
Two pack mules lunged down the trail, followed by a squat figure on an Indian pony.
"This is Na-che, Mr. Huntingdon," said Diana.
Enoch shook hands with the Indian woman, whose face was as dark as Jonas' in the moonlight. "Where's your camp, Mr. Huntingdon?" Diana went on.
"Just a moment!" Enoch had recovered his composure. "I am with two miners, Mackay and Field. To them, I am a lawyer named Smith. I would like very much to remain unknown to them during the remaining two weeks of my vacation."
Jonas heaved a great sigh that sounded curiously like an expression of vast and many sided relief. Then he chuckled. "Easy enough for me. You can't never be nothing but Boss to me."
But Diana was troubled. "I thought we'd camp with your outfit to-night. But we'd better not. I'd be sure to make a break. Are you positive that these men don't know you?"
"Positive!" exclaimed Enoch. "Why, just look at me, Miss Allen!"
Diana glanced at boots, overalls and flannel shirt, coming to pause at the fine lion-like head. "Of course, your disguise is very impressive," she laughed. "But I would say that it was impressive in that it accents your own peculiarities."
"That outfit is something fierce, boss. I brung you some riding breeches," exclaimed Jonas.
"I don't want 'em," said Enoch. "Miss Allen, Field calls me Judge. How would that do?"
"Well, I'll try it," agreed Diana reluctantly. "I know both the men, by the way. Mack, especially, is well known among the Indians. What explanation shall we make them?"
"Why not the truth?" asked Enoch. "I mean, tell them that I slipped away from my friends and that Jonas tagged."
"Very well!" Diana and Jonas both nodded.
"And now," Enoch lifted his game bag, "let's get on. My partners are going to be worried. And I'm the cook for the outfit, too."
"Boss," Jonas took the game bag, "you take my mule and go on with Miss Diana and Na-che and I'll come along with the rest of the cattle."
Enoch obediently mounted, Diana fell in beside him, and looked anxiously into his face. "Please, Judge, are you very cross with me for breaking in on you? But poor Jonas was consumed with fear for you."
Enoch put his hand on Diana's as it rested on her knee. "You must know!" he said, and was silent.
"Then it's all right," sighed Diana, after a moment.
"Yes, it's quite all right! How did Jonas find you?"
"It seems that he and Charley concluded that you must have headed toward Bright Angel. Charley went on to Washington to keep things in order there. Jonas went up to El Tovar. I had just outfitted for a trip into the Hopi country when Jonas came to me. He had talked to no one. He is wonderfully circumspect, but he was frantic beneath his calm. He begged me to find you for him and--well, I was a little anxious myself--so I didn't need much urging. We had only been out a week when we met John Red Sun. The rest was easy. If a person sticks to the trails in Arizona it's difficult not to trace them. Look, Judge, your friends have lighted a signal fire."
"Poor chaps! They're starved and worried!" Enoch quickened his mule's pace and Diana fell in behind him.
Mack and Curly were standing beside the blaze at the edge of the plateau. Enoch jumped from the saddle.
"I'm awfully sorry, fellows! But you see, I was detained by a lady!"
"For heaven's sake, Diana!" cried Mack. "Where did you come from?"
"Hello, Mack! Hello, Curly!" Diana dismounted and shook hands. "Well, the Judge gave his friends the slip. Everybody was satisfied but his colored man, Jonas. He was absolutely certain the Judge wouldn't keep his face clean or his feet dry and he so worked on my feelings that I trailed you people. I was go
ing into the Hopi country anyhow."
Curly gave Enoch a knowing glance. "We thought he was putting something over on us. What is he, Diana, a member of the Supreme Bench?"
"Huh! Hardly!"
Everybody laughed at Diana's derisive tone and Curly added, "Anyhow, he's a rotten cook. I was thinking of putting Mack back on his old job."
"Don't intrude, Curly," said Enoch. "I've been out and brought in an assistant who's an expert."
"That's you, I suppose, Diana!" Mack chuckled.
"No, it's Jonas, the colored man. He'll be along with Na-che in a moment. This isn't your camp?"
"Come along, Miss Allen!" exclaimed Enoch. "I'll show you a camp that's run by an expert."
Mack and Curly groaned and followed Enoch and Diana down to the cave, Jonas and Na-che appearing shortly. Jonas, hobbling to the cave opening stood for a moment, gazing at the group around the fire in silent despair. Finally he said:
"When I get back to Washington, if I live to get there, they'll put me out of the Baptist Church as a liar, if I try to tell 'em what I been through. Boss, what you trying to do?"
"Dress these quail," grunted Enoch.
Jonas gave Curly and Mack a withering glance, started to speak, swallowed something and said, "How come you to think you was a butcher, boss? Leave me get my hands on those birds. I should think you done enough, killing 'em."
"No," said Enoch, "I'm the cook for to-night. But, Jonas, old man, if you aren't too knocked up, you might make some biscuit."
"Jonas looks to me," suggested Mack, "like a cup of coffee and a seat by the fire was about his limit to-night. I'll get the rest of the grub, if you'll tend to the quail, Judge. Curly, you go out and unpack for Diana. We'll turn the cave over to you and Na-che to-night, Diana."
Diana, who was sitting on a rock by the fire, long, slender legs crossed, hands clasping one knee, an amused spectator of the scene, looked up at Mack with a smile.
"Indeed you won't, Mack. Na-che and I have our tent. We'll put it up in the sand, as usual. And tomorrow, having delivered our prize package, we'll be on our way."
Enoch looked up quickly. "Don't be selfish, Miss Allen!" he exclaimed.
"That's the idea!" Mack joined in vehemently. Then he added, with a grin, "The Judge has plumb ruined our quiet little expedition anyhow. And after two weeks of him and Curly, I'm darn glad to see you, Diana. How's your Dad?"
"Very well, indeed! If he had had any idea that I was going on this sort of trip, though, I think he'd have insisted on coming with me. Judge, let me finish those birds. You're ruining them."
"Whose quail are these, I'd like to know?" demanded Enoch.
"Yours," replied Diana meekly, "but I had thought that some edible portion besides the pope's nose and the neck ought to be left on them."
Jonas, who had been crouching uneasily on a rock, a disapproving spectator of the scene, groaned audibly. Na-che now came into the glow of the fire. She was a comely-faced woman, of perhaps forty-five, neatly dressed in a denim suit. Her black eyes twinkled as she took in the situation.
"Na-che, you come over here and sit down by me," said Jonas. "If I can't help, neither can you."
Na-che smiled, showing strong white teeth. "You feel sick from the saddle, eh, Jonas?"
"Don't you worry about that, woman! I'll show you I'm as good as any Indian buck that ever lived!"
Na-che grunted incredulously, but sat down beside Jonas nevertheless.
In spite of the gibes, supper was ready eventually and was devoured with approval. When the meal was finished, Na-che and Jonas cleared up, then Jonas took his blanket and retired to a corner of the cave, whence emerged almost immediately the sound of regular snoring. The others sat around the fire only a short time.
"You'll stick around for a little while, won't you, Diana?" said Curly, as he filled his first pipe.
"I really ought to pull out in the morning," replied Diana. "There are some very special pictures I want to get at Oraibai about now."
"There is a cliff dwelling down the river about three miles," said Enoch. "I haven't found the trail into it yet, but I saw the dwelling distinctly from a curve on the top of the Canyon wall. It's a huge construction."
"Is that so?" exclaimed Diana eagerly. "Why, those must be the Gray ruins. I didn't realize we were so close to them. Well, you've tempted me and I've fallen. I really must give a day to those remains. Only one or two whites have ever gone through them."
Enoch smiled complacently.
"How long have you and the Judge known each other, Diana?" asked Curly suddenly.
Diana hesitated but Enoch spoke quickly. "The first time I saw Miss Allen she was a baby of five or six on Bright Angel trail."
Curly whistled. "Then you've got it on the rest of us. I first saw her when she was a sassy miss in school at Tucson."
"Nothing on me!" said Mack. "I held her in my arms when she was ten days old, and my wife was with her mother and Na-che when she was born. You were a red-faced, squalling brat, Diana."
"She was a beautiful baby! She never cried," contradicted Na-che flatly.
Diana laughed and rose. "This is getting too personal. I'm going to bed," she said. The men looked at her, admiration in every face.
"Anything any of us can do for your comfort, Diana?" asked Curly. "Na-che seemed satisfied with the place I put your tent in."
"Everything is fine, thank you," Diana held out her hand, "Good night, Curly. I really think you're handsomer than ever."
"Lots of good that'll do me," retorted Curly.
Diana made a little grimace at him and turned to Mack. "Good night, Mack. I'll bet you're homesick for Mrs. Mack this minute."
"She's a pretty darned fine old woman!" Mack nodded soberly.
"Old!" said Diana scornfully. "You ought to have your ears boxed! Good night, Judge!"
"Good night, Miss Allen!"
The three men watched the tall figure swing out into the moonlight.
"There goes the most beautiful human being I ever hope to see," said Curly, turning to unroll his blankets.
"If I was a painter and wanted to tell what this here country was really like, at its best, I'd paint Diana." Mack's voice was very earnest.
"Shucks!" sniffed Curly, "that isn't saying anything, is it, Judge?"
"It's hard to put her into words," replied Enoch carefully. "Curly, are you too tired to continue our last night's talk?"
"Oh, let's put it over till to-morrow! We've lots of time!" Curly gave a great yawn.
Enoch said nothing more but rolled himself in his blankets, with the full intention of formulating his line of conduct toward Diana before going to sleep. He stretched himself luxuriously in the sand and the next thing he heard was Diana's laugh outside. He opened his eyes in bewilderment. It was dawn without the cave. Jonas was hobbling down toward the river.
"Oh, Jonas, you poor thing! Do let Na-che give you a good rubdown before you try to do anything!"
"No, Miss Diana. If the boss can stand these goings on, I can. How come he ever thought this was sport, I don't know. I'll never live to get him back home!"
"Where are you going, Jonas?" called Curly.
Jonas paused. "I ain't going to turn myself round, unless I have to. What's wanted?"
"I just wanted to warn you that the Colorado's no place for a morning swim," Curly said.
"I'm just going to get the boss's shaving water."
"There's a hint for you, Judge," Curly turned to Enoch. "I hope you plan to give more attention to your toilet after this."
"You go to blazes, Curly," said Enoch amiably. "I haven't got the reputation for pulchritude to live up to that you have."
"Diana's imagination was in working order last night," volunteered Mack. "To my positive knowledge Curly ain't washed or shaved for three days."
"You've drunk of the Hassayampa too, Mack!" Curly ran the comb through his black locks vindictively.
"What's the effect of that draught?" asked Enoch.
"You never
tell the truth again," said Curly.
Na-che's voice floated in. "Jonas, you tell the men I got breakfast already for 'em. Tell 'em to bring their own cups and plates."
"Sounds rotten, huh?" Curly sauntered out of the cave.
It was a very pleasant meal. To Enoch it was all a dream. It seemed impossible for him to absorb the fact that he and Diana were together in the Colorado Canyon. When the last of the coffee was gone, Curly looked at his watch, then turned severely to Enoch.
"We're an hour earlier than we've ever been, and all because of women! Aren't you ashamed?"
"Run along and wash dirt," returned Enoch. "For two cents I'd tell how long it took me to get you up yesterday morning."
"What's your program, Diana?" asked Mack.
"Na-che and I are going over to the cliff dwelling. We'll be gone all day."
"I'll act as guide," said Enoch with alacrity.
"It's not necessary!" exclaimed Diana. "I don't want to interrupt your camp routine at all. You just give us directions, Judge. Na-che and I are old hands at this, you know."
"Oh, take him along, Diana! He'll be crying in a minute," sniffed Curly. "Jonas, you'll stay and give us a feed, won't you?"
"I got to look out for the boss," Jonas spoke anxiously.
A shout went up. "Jonas, old boy," said Enoch, "you stay in camp to-day and er--look over my clothes."
"I will, boss," with intense relief, "and I'll make you a stew out of those rabbits nobody'll forget in a hurry."
Mack and Curly hurried off to the river's edge. Na-che and Jonas went into the cave. Enoch looked at Diana. She was standing by the breakfast fire slender and straight in her brown corduroy riding suit, her wide, intelligent eyes studying Enoch's face. There was a glow of crimson in the cream of her cheeks, for the morning air held frost in its touch.
"May I go with you?" repeated Enoch. "I'll be very good!"
Diana did not reply at first. Moonlight and firelight had not permitted her before to read clearly the story of suffering that was in Enoch's face. During breakfast he had been laughing and chatting constantly. But now, as he stood before her, she was appalled by what she saw in the rugged face. There were two straight, deep lines between his brows. The lines from nostril to lip corner were doubly pronounced. The thin, sensitive lips were compressed. The clear, kindly blue eyes were contracted as if Enoch were enduring actual physical pain. Tall and powerful, his dark red hair tossed back from his forehead, his look of trouble did not detract from the peculiar forcefulness of his personality.
The Enchanted Canyon Page 16