"And how are we going to get them out?" asked Dick.
For it seemed, at first sight, that there was no entrance or egress. And certainly nothing could get in over the top, or out that way. For though the sides of the great, natural bowl were green up to a certain distance, beyond that, and between the rim and a point half way down, they were almost perpendicular in straightness. And, being of rock, they would, it seemed, afford scarcely a foot or hand-hold for the most expert "human fly."
"There must be a way in," declared Slim.
"And out, too," added Yellin' Kid. "Those rustlers never would have driven th' steers in here unless there was some way of getting 'em out."
"But what is this place, anyhow!" asked Nort. "It looks like the
Yale bowl, but it never could have been built by man."
"It wasn't," said Bud. "It's the crater of an extinct volcano. It has been filled up, with land-slides, probably, and the winds and the birds have brought grass seeds here, year after year, until it makes a regular corral for cattle. There's water, too, which isn't surprising. That's what it is, an old volcano crater. I heard there was one around here, but I never had time to look for it."
"Yes, I've heard of it myself," admitted Slim, "but I didn't think it was like this. Let's have another look."
Dick and Nort moved aside to give the foreman a place of advantage, and when he had looked through a spot where the crack was wider he said: "I see where they can get th' cattle out. Here, take a look, Bud," and Slim handed the ranch lad a pair of field glasses that had been brought along in case of emergency. They were of value now.
"Down at th' far end, and a little to the left of centre," Slim directed Bud's gaze. "There's a sort of fence of trees piled up. That's th' entrance all right—or one of 'em."
"You're right!" agreed Bud when he had taken a careful observation. "But is there more than one!"