The knife was too firmly embedded in its human sheath, to come away at his command. The cords of the outlaw's neck swelled to enormous proportions from the fearful strain he was subjecting them to. He sought to accomplish his ends, in another way. Biting the hilt as if he would sever it in twain, Jesse pushed against it with all the weight of his body. The keen edge, under his irresistable pressure, cut its way into the Indian's flesh at right angles to his body, thus widening the wound and making its sheath less binding. Back and forth did the blood-thirsty outlaw work the blade. He pushed and he pulled like a dog wrestling with a bone. He shook it like a rat. Then he gave it a long, vicious tug. The bloody blade came away with a sickening sound. And the desperado fell backward with a terrible curse. Yet, withal, his grip on the bloody hilt did not relax. Now came the most arduous task of all, that of crawling over the body of his victim and rolling to the remaining savage, without losing the knife from his teeth. The feat was not so easy as it would seem, and he could accomplish it only by keeping his head from touching the ground over every inch of the way. He struggled desperately. Minutes elapsed. But the second redskin died more speedily than had the first, Jesse having given him a terrible thrust with the deadly blade. And with eager, fascinated eyes he watched the death agonies of his victim. In a moment all movement ceased. The man was dead. Jesse's work of vengeance, for the time, was ended. And now to roll for safety, if that were possible. Should he be caught, he knew that this time his punishment would be swift and sure. Great Bear would take no chances with him after this. But just as the outlaw was about to start on his unequal journey, he suddenly espied the figure of an Indian standing a few paces away, in the gloom, gazing intently in his direction. The desperado fairly held his breath. He wished now that he had brought away the bowie from his second victim. But it was too late to rectify his mistake. Still, defenceless as he was, the great bandit devoutly hoped the savage redskin would throw himself upon him. Jesse believed that, with a well directed kick he could silence the fellow and put an end to him afterwards, for his thirst for blood had not yet been satisfied. Though it would be a desperate chance he was willing and anxious to take it. But he was not given a chance to put his foolhardy plan into operation. The redskin emitted a sudden grunt, and dropping into a long lope, sped noiselessly toward the main part of the village, that lay some twenty rods to the west. Jesse was off like a flash. His one supreme object now was to put as much distance as possible between himself and his savage enemies. But the laborious rolling process was too slow for him.