Going, for the great desperado, however, was a far different matter. He could not walk nor could he crawl, and there seemed only one way left open to him, and this he adopted. He rolled.
It was not a dignified exit that he made from the wigwam, but it was better than being bound and guarded there with the prospect of further tortures in the morning.
He found his first difficulty was in getting out of the wigwam without pulling it down about him. This might attract attention and defeat his plan of escape. But Jesse finally accomplished it by going out head first, wriggling along like a clumsy snake on a frosty morning. His burns tortured him excruciatingly, but the great desperado shut his teeth together savagely and began to roll.
His two Indian guards lay directly in his path. Jesse with some misgivings and a greater effort, rolled over them as the quickest way to get on.
The Indians grunted but did not wake up, which he was positive would be the case in their condition. But the feel of their bodies against his had stirred the blood lust within him and suggested a new idea to the great desperado.
"If my hands only were free," he growled. "Ah, I have it. I'll try it," he gritted, with blazing eyes.
Quickly the outlaw rolled back to them. Now he was bent on a terrible revenge. And he forgot for the moment his own deadly peril in his ferocious desire to be revenged on Great Bear.
With as much speed as his manacled condition would permit, the great outlaw worked his head along the body of the Indian nearest to him. Not finding what he sought at first, he braced his feet with great difficulty and putting forth an almost superhuman effort, pushed and pushed against the redskin with his head, until the savage had been rolled over. The deed, however, had required a supreme effort.
The Indian squirmed and muttered surlily, but to the desperado's intense relief, did not awake.
Jesse searched at the side he had just turned up, and with a savage exclamation of delight, bit hard at the Indian's waist.