gun to wrap itself like an enveloping cloak about the two camps, as
quietly and without warning of their presence natives of that weird
tract of earth began to appear. When the camp was made there was not a
hogan or any form of human habitation to be seen. But as Paul came back
to the fire circle after helping Masters pitch the last of the tents he
was astonished to see a dozen Indians, mostly young men, sitting on the
sand close by. Masters spoke a word to them when he came up to the fire
and one of the men answered briefly.

"They have come all the way from Leupp," he said to Paul. "Walked the
entire distance of sixty-seven miles since sunrise."

"Do you know any of them?" Paul asked curiously.

"Yes, I have met one of the young men at Shungapavi. They are all going
up to see the snake dance. It's the only feature about the Hopi that
appeals to them."

Miss Gray began to sing; it seemed to Walter who was sitting on the
Navajo blanket near her that he had never heard a voice of just that
particular quality. It fitted into the surroundings wonderfully. The
dusky faces with the inevitable head-cloth of red or white were intent
on hers, and when the song ceased and Walter looked up and around he saw
the members of the other camp had come over and were standing or sitting
about. Among the faces that were most noticeable to Walter was Van
Shaw's. He was standing almost directly opposite Miss Gray staring at
her with a strange look as if he were in doubt of the reality of Miss
Gray's presence in this group. It seemed to Walter that he was about to
ask a question, but Masters, who at campfire was always intent on
bringing his Gospel message to the miscellaneous audience he might not
see again in many months, began to speak softly and affectionately.

The visitors from the outside world, including the party from
Pittsburgh, could not understand one word. It was not that that moved
them. But Masters was gifted with a splendid voice in full control.
After he had been speaking ten minutes the figures about the little fire
crept closer up and narrowed the circle. Masters's face was eloquent.
Tears rolled down his cheeks. His gestures were wide and conveyed tender
invitation. He spoke only a few moments more and ended abruptly. Old
Peshlekietsetti gently dropped a root of dowegie bush on the almost
extinct fire. The coals burst into a new flame and the light flared up
again, showing to Felix, Helen's wondering face framed in th