Over and over the combatants rolled, first one gaining a slight advantage which would be quickly lost to the other. Great Bear on his side possessed one advantage that Jesse did not—he was stripped to the waist while the outlaw was fully clothed. This gave the Indian something to hold to, while Jesse's grip on the perspiring skin of his antagonist was an uncertain thing.
But the bandit king was working his hands upward as frequently and as rapidly as he dared. Once when he had succeeded in forcing Great Bear to his side, with the left hand pinioned under him, Jesse's right shot up and his fingers closed over the savage's right ear. With a grunt of rage Jesse's hand came away covered with blood.
The hand held the ear of his savage antagonist. But the stoical Indian gave no sign that he had been injured. If anything the terrible wound gave him added strength.
A sudden upward expansion of his muscles, chest and abdomen, fairly lifted Jesse into the air.
When the two came down, Jesse was underneath. In a moment more their positions were reversed.
Great Bear's fingers closed over the outlaw's throat, while the desperado's knee forced itself into his adversary's abdomen with terrible force.
The Indian emitted a grunt, which was followed by another as the desperate outlaw bored in and in with the bony knee until it seemed as if the flesh of the other's body must give way and let the knee find an easy path.
The Indian's grasp slackened and Jesse's terrible fist smote him squarely in the face until the blood of the savage spurted into his own eyes.
Again and again the outlaw rained sledge hammer blows on his opponent's face until it was reduced to a bloody pulp. But still the desperate battle waged.
Now and then both men would lay still for a moment, clasped in a desperate embrace, gasping for breath, but speaking no word.