But the rain of lead from the outlaws' guns was terrible.
One after another, the troopers fell, mowed down like grass before the scythe.
"We've cleaned 'em out! Come on! Charge the Injuns! We've got to shoot our way through!" bellowed the world-famous desperado.
Howling, yelling, leaping like Dervishes, the six desperadoes dashed from the mouth of the cave.
An instant the braves stood and faced them.
But the fire from the outlaws' pistols was too galling and they gave way.
Intoxicated by the smell of powder, wild with the sight of carnage on all sides of him, Jesse led his men through the evergreens, coming upon the Indians' ponies where Dew Drop had said they were.
Quickly the desperadoes cut out six, leaped on their backs and dashed southward.
Behind them, having recovered their nerve, swarmed every buck who could find a mount, rending the air with fiendish whoops of fury and chagrin.