With a stillness marvelous in the rapidity of their actions, the two desperadoes gained the top of the precipice and dashed forward. So engrossed were the bucks in watching their fellows that they had not seen the bandits. "Give 'em a yell, then shoot!" whispered Jesse. With a will the two outlaws gave the old guerrilla battle cry that had made Quantrell's men known and feared. Panic-stricken, the redskins leaped to their feet. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack went the four six-shooters in the desperadoes' hands. And with each bark of a pistol one of the Indians advancing toward Comanche Tony, pitched forward, a bullet hole in his heart. But only for a minute did the braves lose their heads. Thundering at his warriors, Great Bear commanded: "Charge them! They are only two, we are twenty! We can push them off the precipice!" Inspired by the words of their chief, which had been uttered in their native tongue, the braves drew their revolvers, opening fire on Jesse and Wild Bill as they advanced. Never had the guerrilla battle cry sounded so sweet as it did to the ears of Comanche Tony as he stood, bound fast to the stake, watching the bucks approach with the firebrands and twigs with which to kindle a blaze about his feet. But, when turning his head, he saw only Wild Bill and Jesse and a moment later beheld the warriors rally to the charge, he was filled with fear. Two men, no matter how brave, would have little chance against the overwhelming numbers of the redskins. Then he remembered that his six-shooters had not been taken from him and he bellowed: "Jess! Jess! Cut me loose! I've got my guns! I can help you!" "Keep pumping at the devils, Bill," commanded the world-famous desperado. "We've got to stand 'em off till the others get here!" And, discharging his own shooting irons the while, Jesse ran to Comanche Tony. But though the shots of the Indians had been wild at first, they were so close to the outlaws now that many a bullet ploughed through their flesh. Seeing Jesse's purpose, Great Bear ordered the fire to be trained on him. And so furiously did the bucks respond that the bandit-chieftain was forced to give ground. Delirious were the yells of the braves as they saw this move. But their rejoicing was short lived. Aware, from the shots and shouts, that the fight was on, Texas and the rest of the bandits hastened up the trail, reaching the top just as their leader and Wild Bill were retreating toward the edge of the cliff. "Hold your ground! We're coming!" yelled Frank. Never were words more welcome than these as they rang in the ears of the sorely pressed outlaws. And even as they heard them, a volley crashed from the guns of their fellows. Surprised at the unlooked for re-enforcements, the bucks, however, held their own. But only for a few minutes. The fusilade of lead poured into them was too galling.