Rob nodded approvingly.
"That's it," he said, and plunged off into the blackness of the tunnel. He led the others through it at a rapid pace, but they did not travel so fast that they beat the daylight, however, for when they emerged at the other end it was dark, and the stars were shining above them. Far below they could see little flickering points of fire, where the cow-punchers were keeping watch.
"Wish we were down there," muttered Tubby, as they all emerged on the ledge. "I'm hungry."
"So am I," agreed Rob, "and the quicker we get down the mountain the quicker we'll get some hot supper."
As he spoke, from the mouth of the tunnel, which acted as a sort of gigantic speaking-tube, there came what seemed to be the hollow echo of a shout.
"The Indians!" gasped Rob; "they're after us! Up the steps, everybody, quick!"
A rush for the rough stone steps followed, and so fast did the boys press forward that Rob had to warn them of the danger of speed.
"If you slipped you'd be over the edge," he said.
It was enough. The rush moderated. The thought of slipping off into black space was enough to alarm the stoutest hearts among them.
Tubby was the last up but Rob, who remained behind with drawn revolver. He had nerved himself to fire at the first Indian head that showed out of the tunnel.