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Solution Manual for Study guide for Single
Variable Calculus: Concepts and Contexts
• Chapter 5: Integrals
o 5.1: Areas and Distances (48)
o 5.2: The Definite Integral (116)
o 5.3: Evaluating Definite Integrals (119)
o 5.4: The Fundamental Theorem of Calculus (54)
o 5.5: The Substitution Rule (136)
o 5.6: Integration by Parts (91)
o 5.7: Additional Techniques of Integration (86)
o 5.8: Integration Using Tables and Computer Algebra Systems (48)
o 5.9: Approximate Integration (54)
o 5.10: Improper Integrals (105)
o 5: Concepts and Vocabulary
o 5: True-False Quiz (27)
o 5: Review Exercises (2)
o 5: Principles of Problem Solving (2)
o 5: Extra Problems
o 5: Just-in-Time Questions
• Chapter A: Appendixes
o A.A: Intervals, Inequalities, and Absolute Values (44)
o A.B: Coordinate Geometry (50)
o A.C: Trigonometry (40)
o A.D: Precise Definitions of Limits (28)
o A.E: A Few Proofs
o A.F: Sigma Notation (49)
o A.G: Integration of Rational Functions by Partial Fractions (19)
o A.H: Polar Coordinates (77)
o A.I: Complex Numbers (49)
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"Because they're on our trail!"
This statement produced a profound sensation among the bandits
and quickly they plied Jesse with questions as to his reasons for
making it, that is, all but Frank, who, with a sneer started toward the
edge of the cliff to find out for himself, though it was eloquent
testimony for his secret regard for his brother's intuition that he
dropped to his belly and approached the precipice with all the
caution of which he was master.
Smiling as he saw this indication of alarm, Jesse addressed the
others:
"It's an old trick among troopers, one that will be well for you to
remember in the future, when they are on a search, for the squad
that's hit the trail not to answer the rocket signals of the others.
"If the men they're hunting happen to see the rockets in every
direction but one, they'll naturally make the move Homely suggested
—ride away in the direction from which there was no signal—and fall
right into the trap!
"I had a close call once—before I got wise. That's how I happen to
know.
"How near the troopers on the west are to us, of course I can't tell.
"But they're not very far off. They've hit our trail in the canyon and
—"
"They're right down at the foot of the cliff examining the dead
campfires the Injuns left," interrupted Frank.
"You doped it right, Jess, I'll have to admit."
So engrossed had the others been in listening to the bandit-chieftain
that they had not seen Frank as he returned from his reconnaisance,
and the effect of his words, melodramatic as was the manner in
which they fitted in, struck consternation to their hearts.
Enjoying the sensation he had caused, the elder of the James Boys
continued:
"They've corralled our ponies, I could see one of the sojers leading
'em.
"The moon against the walls of the cliff makes it pretty near as light
as day down at the bottom."
"We are in a mess," grunted Bob. "Injuns on one side of us and
sojers on all the others. Looks as though this top of the cliff was
going to be our burying ground."
"Between the two, the way things is, I reckon I'd ruther tackle the
Injuns, eh, Jess?" interposed Comanche Tony, hurriedly, ere his chief
could say another thing.
"When I was peerin' through the bush on tother side of this table of
rocks, I see'd a campfire with a lot of Injuns cuttin' up round it.
"At fust, I couldn't git on to wot it meant, then I tumbled that it's a
war dance.
"I'll bet my scalp, them bucks wot got away from us ull hipper over
to the pow-wow to bring 'em back here, thinkin' we'll either be on
top, as we be, or down in the canyon, as we was."
"But they'd see the rockets," protested Bud.
"Wot of it? They ain't got no Jess James with 'em to put 'em next to
the signal trick an' they'll think there ain't no one to the West."
"Findin' we ain't on top, they'll start down into the canyon.
"Then, if we has any luck at all, the sojers ull jump 'em and they'll
have a fine old set-to while we're doin' the sneak act."
"Good boy, Tony. You've got the right dope. Come on, boys! It's time
for us to be lighting out," cried the world-famous desperado.
"Can you walk, Sam, or do you want us to make a sling for you?"
"I cal'late I can walk, for awhile anyhow."
"All right. If we stay here too long the soldiers may find the trail and
climb up here.
"They heard the shooting, of course, and I reckon they'll be curious
to find out what it was about.
"If they only do, and Tony has it right about the bucks going for re-
enforcements, when they see the redskins coming from the brush,
they'll start shooting. So we'll win out, which ever way it happens."
Quickly and silently the outlaws entered the fringe of bushes along
the top at the opposite side of the cliff, descending by the trail which
Wild Bill and Texas Jack had found while the bandit-chieftain had
been talking.
With every sense alert, the outlaws proceeded, increasing their
caution as they approached nearer and nearer to the bottom.
To their delight, they beheld a heavy patch of fir trees at the foot.
But just as they were within a rod of it, they were startled to hear a
voice cry, faintly:
"Jess Jame! Jess Jame!"
In consternation, the desperadoes looked at one another.
Whether the calling of the name was a lure of the Indians, who,
returning, had seen the men filing down the cliff and planned
another ambush or what it betoken they could not tell.
"We're in for it now, for fair," growled Frank.
And as though to give emphasis to his words, a shout of triumph
sounded from above them, and looking up, they beheld the forms of
a score of cavalrymen silhouetted against the sky.
Chapter IV.
THE STRANGE BATTLE IN THE WITCH'S CAVE.
"Quick! Into the woods, boys!" snapped the world-famous
desperado.
Instantly the bandits sprang to obey.
Fully ten feet away were the evergreens.
Desperately the men sought to gain their cover.
But less than half the distance had they traversed when from above
there rang out in stentorian command:
"Fire!"
R-r-rip! crashed the sharp, staccato volley of carbines.
The aim of the cavalrymen was deadly.
With shrieks of pain, three of the outlaws threw up their hands and
pitched forward.
Convulsively their bodies twitched for a few moments and then lay
still, while their life blood oozed from wounds in their backs,
saturating their clothes and making soggy the ground on which they
lay.
With a terrible oath, the world-famous desperado hissed:
"Don't try to return the fire. Our pistols won't carry up the cliff. Into
the woods! Leave the bodies!"
As they saw the desperadoes continue their flight without stopping
to take their dead pals with them, a mighty cheer broke from the
soldiers.
And, while it echoed, again the deep-lunged voice bellowed:
"Fire!"
Once more the rattle of the musketry rang out.
But this time no men fell.
The outlaws had gained the protection of the evergreens.
"Who's here?" demanded Jesse, a strange tremor in his voice.
"Answer to your names as I call them."
So sudden had been their dash from the unprotected trail of the cliff
to the woods that none of the outlaws knew who of their number
had fallen victims to the terrible rain of lead that had been literally
poured down on them from the edge of the precipice above.
And it was with bated breath that they heard their leader say:
"Comanche Tony!"
"O.K."
"Wild Bill?"
"Here."
"Texas Jack?"
"Here."
"Sam Dirks?"
Heavily the others drew in their breath as no one answered.
"Sam Dirks?" repeated Jesse, in hushed tone. "Poor Sam."
"Frank?"
"Here."
"Homely Harry?"
"O.K."
"Bud Noble?"
Again there was no answer.
"Bob Moore?"
Silence greeted this name also.
A moment later the bandits stood.
The calling of the roll in the sombre setting of the overhanging
branches of the evergreen trees, through which, here and there, the
moonlight filtered, amid the crash of the carbines and the whistle of
the bullets, as they searched out the possible hiding place of the
little band of fugitives, was dramatic in the extreme.
And the outlaws, rough and desperate men as they were, were
cowed as they realized that the same death they had visited upon so
many helpless mortals, had thinned their own ranks.
And the shock was all the greater for the reason that they had
practised their nefarious pastime with such seeming immunity that
they had come to look upon themselves as bearing charmed lives.
Not long, however, were they left to their thoughts.
Of a sudden, above the cheering of the troopers, above the rattle of
the musketry, above the shrilling of the bullets rang the wild, blood-
curdling war whoops of infuriated redskins.
"Quick, on your bellies under the trees!" whispered Jesse. "We'll let
the devils charge the soldiers and may they battle till every one,
Injun and trooper, falls dead!"
But just as the bandits were obeying their leader, there sounded
from close beside them a plaintive:
"Jess Jame! Jess Jame! Don' lie down. Injun see um dead paleface,
hunt um wood. Injun no care sojer, want Jess Jame.
"Come Dew Drop. Dew Drop show um place hide."
As she uttered the last words, the amazed desperadoes saw a
slender creature, clad in what seemed an old wrapper, part the
branches of the tree near which they stood.
An instant the world-famous desperado hesitated.
"If the bucks see the corpses and don't find us in the woods won't
they search the place you're going to take us?" he asked, anxiously.
"No. Dew Drop take um cave Kaw-Kaw, Injun witch. Injun fraid go in
Kaw-Kaw cave."
"Well, we won't be any worse off than we will here, that's sure. But
why you want to help us I don't see. However, we'll take the chance.
Come on, boys."
And, following the Indian maiden, the outlaws wound in and out
among the evergreens till they reached a black hole, like a
cavernous maw, in the cliff from which was exhaled a curiously
intoxicating aroma.
"Paleface no make noise. Kaw-Kaw deaf, no hear. Lie down, no see.
Dew Drop lie nex' Jess Jame so can talk."
Wondering what adventure was in store for them, the bandits
quickly did as the Indian maiden told them, their chief choosing a
place near the mouth of the cave with his chum at his side.
Scarcely had the world-famous desperado squatted down, with Dew
Drop on his left and Comanche Tony on his right, than howls and
yells of exultation reached them, telling them that the savages had
discovered the three dead bodies at the foot of the cliff.
"By my scalp! we didn't git hyar any too soon, I reckon, jedgin' by
them whoops," whispered the old Indian fighter.
But his master paid him no heed.
The action of the red-hued maiden in coming to him when he was in
such sore need puzzled him, and he was racking his brain to
remember whether or not he had ever seen her before.
Unable to place her, his mind once more reverted to the thought that
her opportune appearance might have been but a part of a plot
conceived by Great Bear to lure him and his men to the cave of the
witch that they might be slaughtered without chance of escape.
If such were, in truth, the case, he and his companions were
wasting precious moments.
Determined to end his suspense, Jesse clutched the maiden in a
vice-like grip with his left hand, raising his bowie knife in his right,
ready to plunge it into her heart, as he whispered in a tense, hoarse
voice:
"Tell me why you brought me here! Was it at Great Bear's order? Tell
the truth, as you hope to carry your scalp to the Happy Hunting
Ground!"
Startled by the suddenness of the move and frightened by the stern
face peering into hers, her eyes rivetted on the keen edged blade,
Dew Drop blinked.
But a rough shake recalled her to the necessity of replying.
"No, no!" she gasped. "Great Bear no know Dew Drop left tepee. He
kill um if knew."
"Then what made you?"
"Dew Drop want save um Jess Jame."
"Why?"
"Jess Jame save um Dew Drop."
"I save you?" repeated the bandit-chieftain, surprised in his turn.
"When? What do you mean?"
"Kaw-Kaw say Great Spirit want Dew Drop be squaw um son Dog
Face. Dew Drop no want. No like Dog Face. Dog Face bad Injun.
Kaw-Kaw say must. Have heap pow-wow.
"Little Wolf come tepee say um hunting um see paleface burned
Silverstock cabin, Jess Jame.
"Great Bear ask where.
"Little Wolf say canyon.
"Dog Face say get um Jess Jame scalp give squaw.
"Great Bear take Dog Face, Little Wolf twenty Injun leave um pow-
wow go git Jess Jame.
"Dew Drop no know what happen."
"Great Bear five Injun come run tepee say Jess Jame on cliff, kill um
Injun, kill um Dog Face.
"Kaw-Kaw say must scalp um Jess Jame or cuss um Great Bear.
"Great Bear make heap talk. Call um brave go back get Jess Jame.
"Dew Drop no wait hear more.
"Jess Jame save Dew Drop from Dog Face. Dew Drop save Jess
Jame from Great Bear.
"Dew Drop git cliff see um paleface come down. Dew Drop call.
Sojer shoot.
"Dew Drop 'fraid Jess Jame get um lead. When see no dead, hear
um Great Bear.
"Dew Drop think where hide.
"Dew Drop think um cave Kaw-Kaw.
"Jess Jame in Kaw-Kaw cave."
Like a torrent the Indian maiden poured forth her story and as the
world-famous desperado learned the strange reason for her
friendship, he exclaimed:
"Well, I'll be jiggered! So my men killed Dog Face, eh? I guess we
can trust you, if that's the way things are.
"I'm sure mighty glad we put an end to your prospective husband."
"But she said Kaw-Kaw was in the cave when we got here, and just
now she tells us she's at the pow-wow," breathed Comanche Tony,
who had heard the remarkable tale.
"How about that?" demanded Jess sharply, his suspicions rekindled
by the seeming discrepancy in Dew Drop's statement.
"Kaw-Kaw in um cave," returned the maiden with positiveness.
"When um hear Great Bear say go back git um Jess Jame, Kaw-Kaw
say go um cave get um cuss ready case Great Bear no get um Jess
Jame."
"So that smell's the old hag's curses, a brewin', eh?" chuckled Tony.
"I'm glad they're for Great Bear and his bucks and not me, if they're
that strong."
But further speech was stopped by the sudden appearance of three
tall forms, looming in the entrance of the cave.
Crouching low, the bandit-chieftain watched them, stealthily drawing
his shooting-irons.
Yet before he could extract them from his holsters, he felt Dew
Drop's hand on his arm, restrainingly.
Turning toward her, wondering what she meant, he saw her shake
her head vigorously, at the same time pressing upon his arm.
"Evidently doesn't want me to shoot," reasoned Jesse. "I reckon she
knows more about what's best in this witch-den than I do."
And he silently dropped his guns back into their holsters.
The old Indian fighter had been a spectator of the pantomime and
as he saw his chief relinquish his weapons, he did likewise.
All this had taken but a few seconds, and even while it was
transpiring, one of the bucks was jabbering excitedly.
What he was saying, the bandits did not know, for the redmen spoke
in their own language.
Yet from the jumble of guttural sounds, they occasionally
distinguished the words "Jess Jame" and "Kaw-Kaw."
But if they could not understand what was said they could see what
was happening.
The jabberings of the excited bucks had been carried on in loud
tones.
Scarcely had they begun than the outlaws beheld a bent and bowed
figure hobble into the light at the mouth of the cave, leaning on a
crooked staff.
At her approach, the warriors drew back.
In shrill tones the figure, whom they realized must be the witch,
Kaw-Kaw, harangued them, waving her staff as her excitement got
the better of her.
Soon she paused and the bucks replied.
Again the piping voice answered.
And, as she heard the words, Jesse could feel Dew Drop tremble, so
close was she to him.
Deciding because of this that whatever the gibberish meant it
spelled danger for himself and his men, the world-famous desperado
again whipped his hands to his pistol holsters.
And this time there was no objection from the Indian maiden by his
side.
Yet before he could draw them, Kaw-Kaw hobbled from the cave,
joining the three braves and vanished from sight with them.
As they disappeared, Dew Drop breathed a sigh of intense relief.
Ere Jesse could utter the question that was on his lips, the red-
skinned maiden whispered:
"Quick! Quick! Get um paleface. Dew Drop take um back Kaw-Kaw
cave while um 'way."
Springing to her feet, the maid seized the hand of the bandit-
chieftain and dragged him back into the pall of blackness that
enveloped the witch's den.
Seeing their leader rise, his pals had followed suit, even before he
commanded in a low voice:
"Get up, boys. Take hold of one another. Follow me quickly!"
Had Kaw-Kaw returned to her den just then, she would have been
filled with amazement at the file of men, who threaded their way
through the maze of pots, tripods and implements dear to the heart
of the sorceress, led by the lithe, slim maiden.
But her amazement would have turned to alarm had she seen them
enter a second cave, which led from the first, the existence of which
she thought she herself alone knew.
So low was the opening into the inner den that the bandits were
forced to drop to their hands and knees.
"This is a fool's stunt, getting in farther instead of—" began Frank.
But his words were frozen in his mouth by a terrible, hair-raising
growl that sounded from the recesses of the cave.
"No 'fraid, no 'fraid!" gasped Dew Drop hurriedly. "Um Wa-Wa, Kaw-
Kaw bear. Um no hurt."
"Sure not, his growl doesn't sound fierce, I don't think!" ejaculated
Wild Bill.
But the Indian maiden, laughing softly, quickly allayed their fears by
adding:
"Wa-Wa no got claw, no got teeth.'"
"Well, the growl's the real thing, all right, all right," exclaimed Jesse.
"The old hag hasn't removed his hug, too, has she?"
"No-o," replied the maiden, doubtfully. "But Dew Drop know Wa-Wa.
Um play, Dew Drop an' Wa-Wa.
"Dew Drop come cave any day. Kaw-Kaw deaf no hear.
"Wa-Wa know Dew Drop. No hurt."
"That may be all right for you," snarled Frank, "but Wa-Wa may not
take so kindly to our coming."
The series of growls, growing in intensity and volume with each
successive outburst, that came from the monster, lent a force to the
outlaw's words that even the Indian maiden could not disregard.
"Wa-Wa!" she called, soothingly, adding something in her native
tongue.
But the pet of the witch, Kaw-Kaw, as though he recognized among
the strangers, whose presence he scented, the man who had
grievously wronged his mistress by killing her son, refused to be
pacified.
Each moment, his growls announced that he was getting nearer and
nearer to the bandits.
Of a sudden, two little balls of seeming phosphorous glowered at
them, as the brute came from behind a boulder.
"You can stand there like dummies, if you want to," snapped the
elder of the James boys. "I'm going to shoot him!"
"No! No! No shoot!" protested Dew Drop, in alarm.
"Why not?"
"Kaw-Kaw smell powder when um came back. Know some one in um
cave. Make heap cuss. Fin' um paleface. Call um Injun. Devil to
pay!"
"I reckon the girl's right, Frank," declared his brother, smiling at the
words of his saviour. "It wouldn't take long for the old hag to notice
the odour of the saltpetre and when she called the bucks it would be
all over but the shouting.
"And I've no intention of adorning an Indian triumph."
"All right," grudgingly acquiesced the elder of the James boys. "I
won't shoot, but something's got to be done.
"I don't propose to stay in here with a bear walking round loose, if it
hasn't any teeth or claws."
This announcement expressed the feelings of the rest of the bandits,
yet what to do, they did not know.
And as they stood, in helpless perplexity, the brute itself solved their
dilemma.
As its wicked little eyes beheld the figures of the intruders in its
retreat, the monster reared on its hind legs, and with a roar,
deafening because of the narrow confines of the cave, charged at
them, laying about it viciously with its herculean paws.
In panic, the outlaws fled before it.
But the rock side of the den checked them.
Came a mighty swish and Comanche Tony fell, dropped by the
clawless paws of the monster.
And, in a trice, the bear stood over its unconscious victim, snarling
ominously.
The peril of their pal broke the spell of terror in which the outlaws
stood.
"Stab the brute! Tackle him, boys!" snapped Jesse, leaping toward
the monster as he spoke.
Instantly his comrades obeyed.
Drawing their keen-edged bowie-knives, they buried them to the
hilts in any part of the bear's body they could reach.
Stung by the sharp pains, the monster reared on its hind legs again,
lashing about viciously with its paws, emitting savage growls, awful
in their fury.
But its raising up was the beast's doom.
Crouching low, dodging the terrible lunges as a prize-fighter dodges
the blows of his adversary in the ring, the world-famous desperado
watched his chance.
Suddenly he saw the monster's breast unprotected.
With a lightning movement, the bandit-chieftain leaped forward.
In his right hand he clasped his bowie-knife.
His arm, bent close to his body, shot out.
And the force of his spring drove the keen-egded blade to the hilt,
straight through the bear's heart.
But so great was the power of resistance of the monster that,
despite the steel in its most vital organ, it seized Jesse in a mighty
embrace, holding him helpless as it staggered.
"T-trip it!" gasped the leader of the outlaws frantically, "I—I've st-
tabbed it."
Again his men sprang forward.
Yet before they could carry out their master's instructions, the bear
fell, its embrace unbroken.
Not long did it take the bandits to extricate their chief from his
uncomfortable position.
But as they raised him to his feet, they heard the sound of hoarse,
excited voices in the outer cave.
"The bucks have come back!" hissed Texas Jack.
"No, no Injun! Um paleface sojers!" gasped Dew Drop in
consternation. "No Injun come Kaw-Kaw cave."
Chapter V.
A DESPERATE CHARGE.
In dismay, the bandits gazed at one another, as they heard the
portentous words of the Indian maiden.
And in a moment more their own ears confirmed their truth.
No mistaking the identity of the men in the outer cave was there, as
a sharp command, in plain English, rang out:
"Search every nook and cranny in the den, men. It's just the place
for Jesse James and his pack of cutthroats to hide."
"That pet name'll cost the life of many a soldier, young fellow, if I
ever get out of here!" hissed Comanche Tony in a low, harsh voice.
But his pals were too taken up with the peril of their position to
make any comment on the blood-thirsty announcement.
No need was there to tell them it was one thing to have the Indians
search the cave and quite another to have the cavalrymen.
The superstitious reverence and fear of the bent and bowed
sorceress would not sway the troopers or cause them to consider the
intrusion of the abode of the witch a sacrilege.
Rather would their contempt for the customs and beliefs of the
redmen incite them to unusual effort.
Should they chance to espy the hole leading into the second cave,
every one of the six men knew that they would lose no time in
exploring it.
And it was to what they should do, in such event, that each man
devoted his thoughts.
"Can't we block up the hole?" hazarded Texas Jack, grasping at the
most obvious expedient.
"No," returned Dew Drop. "Kaw-Kaw see, Kaw-Kaw get wise. Hole
always open for Wa-Wa.
"Dew Drop no see why Kaw-Kaw let sojers come um cave."
"Probably they didn't ask her permission," returned the bandit-
chieftain.
But the explanation did not satisfy the Indian maiden.
From her earliest memory, she had been taught reverence for the
aged sorceress and she knew the fear her fellow-tribesmen held of
the terrible curse that would be visited upon any Indian who dared
penetrate the recesses of the cave.
Indeed, not unless she had been invited to enter, as an honour that
would influence her to accept Dog Face as her brave, would she ever
have had the temerity to enter and as she thought of being
discovered in the "holy of holies" with the men she was trying to
save, she trembled like a leaf, silently rocking too and fro as she
wrung her hands in an agony of despair.
Plainly the outlaws heard the troopers draw nearer and nearer as
they proceeded with their fruitless hunt.
"I reckon there's nothing for it but to stab the first trooper who
pokes his head through the opening," whispered the world-famous
desperado.
"I'll take that job for mine. The rest of you line up about me. As
soon as I've knifed the first, some of you pull him out of the way
and the others be ready for the next.
"If we can kill 'em without an outcry, we may be able to get em all."
The fiendish plan of slaying one man after another as fast as they
appeared showed clearly how desperate Jesse believed their position
to be.
It proved that in order to save his own life he had no hesitancy in
killing any number of men.
And, as they heard the shocking proposition, even his pals, steeped
in the gore of innocent men as their hands were, recoiled at the task
imposed on them.
Yet they dared not disobey and silently took their places, kneeling, at
the entrance to the cave, opposite their inhuman chief who waited,
with bowie-knife upraised to plunge it into the heart of the first
soldier that appeared.
But before the awful scheme could be put to the test, the old witch
herself took a hand in the proceedings.
As the bandits kneeled, the beats of their hearts alone breaking the
silence of the den in which they were, their ears strained for the first
sound that should announce the discovery of the hole, they suddenly
heard a shrill snarl in good English:
"Dogs of palefaces! What are you doing in my cave? How dare you
profane the temple of a Navajo medicine? Curses on your palefaced
heads! May you perish on the plains, riddled with wounds, mad for
water! May the coyotes feed on your carcasses! May no grave hold
your bones and may they be scattered to the winds! Curse you!
Curse you! Curse you!"
So furious, so terrible was the wrath of the aged sorceress that the
troopers stopped in their search, staring at the wizened, bent figure,
abashed.
Not slow was the shrewd old hag to note the impression her bitter
invective had made upon the cavalrymen and, without delay, she
followed it up.
"If the dogs of palefaces have wives, may they rot with child; if they
have sweethearts, may they play with them and jilt them; if they
have children, may they grow up deformed and idiotic! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Ha!"
And she croaked in diabolical glee.
Of a sudden her manner changed.
"What do the palefaces want, more curses? Haven't they had
enough?" she shrieked, angered that, though the soldiers trembled
beneath her imprecations, they made no move to leave the cave.
"May—"
But before another word could leave her lips, the lieutenant
commanding the troopers, having recovered from the first shock of
surprise, bellowed:
"Seize her! Bind her! Gag the old vixen!"
Eagerly the cavalrymen sprang forward, their faces bespeaking with
what relish they would obey the commands.
Yet before they could lay hands on her, Kaw-Kaw began to back
away, swinging her crooked staff in front of her to hold off the
troopers, while she screamed in the language of her tribe.
"Kaw-Kaw call um Great Bear an' um braves," gasped Dew Drop,
excitedly, close to Jesse's ear. "Paleface dogs must fight for coming
Kaw-Kaw cave."
So unexpected and so startling had been the intervention of the old
witch that Jesse forgot his own peril in his interest to learn the effect
of the awful curses on the soldiers.
But the words of the Indian maiden recalled him to himself.
Whoops and yells resounded in the outer cave in answer to Kaw-
Kaw's appeal to her tribesmen.
Suddenly a flare of light shone through the hole leading into the
cavern in which the outlaws were.
"The bucks have thrown in lighted faggots," grunted Comanche
Tony. "There'll be suthin' doin', now."
Ere he had more than spoken, the barks of pistols rang out, like the
explosion of gigantic fire-crackers.
The deeper toned army revolvers answered.
In a trice the din was deafening.
"Here's our chance!" declared the world-famous desperado. "We'll
crawl into the other cave and attack the troopers from the rear.
"Judging by their guns, there are only a dozen or so.
"Our charge'll rattle 'em so we can rush through 'em and get
outside.
"The Indians won't stop us.
"When we get clear, we'll strike for the place the bucks are grazing
their ponies, Dew Drop'll tell us where it is."
"Jus' other side trees, straight from cave," responded the red-
skinned maiden.
"Good. All ready, boys! I'll go first. Don't begin shooting till we're all
in the other cave.
"Dew Drop, you stay here."
Desperate was the scheme.
If the braves or troopers recognized Jesse, they might forget their
fight in the desire to capture their common enemy.
And then the outlaws' shrift would be short.
But no word of protest did the others offer.
In deciding upon the sortie, the bandit-chieftain had counted on the
cavalrymen mistaking him and his pals for Indians while he hoped
the savages would think them troopers.
Furiously was the battle raging as Jesse finished the announcement
of his plans.
From the yells and shouts, he decided that the soldiers were driving
back the redskins.
And, with hope high, he began to crawl through the hole onto the
field of strife.
Rapidly his five pals followed.
As they gained the larger cave, they saw that the troopers had,
indeed, forced the braves back.
"Don't shoot till we get on top of 'em," breathed Jesse. "I'll give the
word. Ready! Charge!"
Like deers the outlaws sped toward the cavalrymen, their presence
unsuspected.
But as they got within twenty feet of them, a voice suddenly shrilled:
"There he is! There's Jesse James!"
In their reckoning, the desperadoes had forgotten the old witch
whose son they had killed.
The cause of the fight between soldiers and Indians, Kaw-Kaw, had
ducked into a niche out of range of the bullets, from which she
watched the conflict.
And as the bandits rushed past, she recognized them.
Yet before her warning had rung out, the bandit-chieftain thundered:
"Fire! Rake 'em, boys! Drop 'em!"
But while his men poured their murderous fire into the troopers,
Jesse turned and sent a shot crashing into the brain of the old hag
and she toppled from her hiding place, a blood-curdling shriek
coming from her lips as she fell.
Amazed at the warning which was followed on the instant by the
fusilade from behind, the cavalrymen whirled to face their foes from
the new quarter.
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.
"We can get away from them, all right," declared the world-famous
desperado. "What worries me is where the troopers are who
signalled from the south."
And scarcely had the words left his lips before he caught sight of a
body of horsemen rising from a ravine less than a quarter of a mile
in front of him.
Chapter VI.
THE RACE FOR LIFE.
In the light from the moon, which bathed the brush-grown plain and
towering cliff in a flood of silver sheen, the figures of the troopers
stood out clearly.
By common consent, without waiting for the command, the men
with the world-famous desperado checked their ponies and watched
the cavalrymen rise from the ravine.
Whether or not, the soldiers had caught sight of them they did not
know. But shouts of delirious glee from behind told them that the
pursuing Indians had discovered the troopers.
Of a verity, the little band of desperadoes were between two fires.
Apparently the liberty they had achieved by such ruthless slaughter
of soldiers and redmen in the cave of the old witch was to count for
naught.
And as this thought came to them, the companions of the notorious
outlaw groaned inwardly.
Not so the notorious Jesse, however.
Save for the deepening of the lines about his mouth and the
compression of his lips, he sat erect and rigid.
But his mind was working as it never had worked before.
Through many a desperate situation had he passed unscathed. Yet
none of the ruses which had stood him in such good stead on those
occasions could he use in his present predicament.
The brilliancy of the moonlight, the presence of foes in front and
back, the treeless waste all about him prevented.
Should he make any move, it would be clearly discernable to
troopers and Indians alike.
And, aware of his seeming helplessness, the bucks were already
yelling in anticipation of his capture.
Their attention attracted by the howls of the savages, the
cavalrymen quickly discovered the group of horsemen in the
bracken.
Hoarse commands, the sounds of which alone reached the bandits,
were spoken and, in a twinkling, those of the troopers who had
mounted the level from the ravine, set their horses toward them.
Turning his head, the world-famous desperado looked toward the
Indians.
All of half a mile away were they, though each minute lessened the
distance.
"Its a chance, but we've got to take it," snapped Jesse, thinking
aloud. "Quick, boys! Whirl your ponies. We'll ride back a way then
make a dash for the ravine! Come on!"
Even as the words fell from their leader's lips, his men had turned
their mounts and, as he gave the word, buried the rowels of their
spurs in the flanks of the fleet footed Indian ponies.
Startled by the unwonted pain, the animals leaped away like stones
from catapults.
The race for life was on.
Scarcely a minute had it been from the time the outlaws had caught
sight of the cavalrymen till they were in full flight. Yet to them each
second their chief had sat inactive had seemed an hour.
In amazement, the savages beheld the men they had been pursuing
rush toward them.
"Kaw-Kaw's bewitched them! They've lost their minds! Her curses
live to destroy the men who killed her!" shouted Great Bear in his
native tongue, transported with joy. "At them! At them! Jesse James
is the Navajos' prey. The paleface dogs must not get him first!"
Goaded to frenzy by the words of their chief, the bucks fell to lashing
their ponies, riding like fiends in their effort to prevent the troopers
from snatching their quarry from their very grasp.
But the cavalrymen viewed the course of the desperately pressed
little band with different feelings.
"Jesse's in the bunch, all right. That move shows it," growled one of
them, the stars and chevrons on whose uniform proclaimed him a
captain. "No one but that murdering daredevil would have chosen to
ride back toward that pack of howling savages rather than toward
us.
"Curse the luck! Why couldn't we have struck the ravine half a mile
farther east? Then we'd been right on top of him and could have
shot him down."
"But the bucks 'll drop him," asserted a lieutenant who rode at his
side. "So long as he's shot, I don't see what difference it makes
whether we get him or they."
"But they won't get him!" bellowed the captain, his disappointment
at losing his chance to capture the most famous desperado the
world has ever known and anger at the ill-disguised rebuke of his
subordinate getting the better of him.
"Won't get him?" repeated the lieutenant, as though he seemed to
doubt his ears.
"Yes, won't get him!" returned the man in command of the troops.
"You've got a lot to learn, young man, about hunting bad-men.
"But if you never learn any thing else, remember this—Indians,
when they're howling and whooping and all excited, are the worst
shots in the world.
"Jesse James knows it. And he'd rather take the chance of riding by
the whole pack of 'em than to give the few of us a shot at him."
Such, indeed, was the reason that the world-famous desperado had
chosen the course he did. Yet his decision had been strengthened by
the further knowledge that the redmen feared him and his
marvelous prowess with his shooting-irons.
All the while, the little group of outlaws and the two bodies of men
bent on their death or capture, were drawing closer together.
Never was there stranger chase.
In full view of one another, each party was riding like mad to gain its
own end.
Yet never a shot was fired.
The distance that separated them was too great.
Nearer and nearer drew the bandits and the Indians and farther and
farther were the cavalrymen getting from the ravine.
Less than two hundred yards separated the former.
With eyes now in front, now turned behind, Jesse watched the
approach of his enemies.
"Damme! I believe they're mad! Why don't they open fire?" snarled
the captain.
To which of the two groups the words referred, the lieutenant did
not know and his recent, caustic reprimand prevented him from
asking.
His mind, however, was instantly diverted by his superior.
"Ha! What's that mean?" cried the latter, then added instantly
"Jesse's turning. I see. He's making for the ravine. I've been fooled!"
Almost choking with rage at the thought that he had allowed himself
to be out-generaled by the notorious cutthroat, the captain rose in
his stirrups, jerked his sabre from its scabbard and, pointing toward
the ravine, turned to his troopers, bellowing:
"Fours oblique and ride like Hell!"
Chuckling inwardly at the choler of their commander, the cavalrymen
executed the orders.
As Jesse and his pals heard the frantic command, they yelled in
defiance, waving mocking goodbyes at the discomfited troopers as,
leaning forward along the necks of their ponies, they raced past the
head of the column of cavalrymen.
Better than he had dared hope had the bandit-chieftain's ruse
worked.
But the end of the race for life was not yet.
Though the world-famous desperado had held his course straight
toward the whooping Indians, his mind and eyes had been almost
entirely upon the troopers.
When he had caught sight of the first troopers rising from the ravine
and realized the desperateness of the position of himself and his
companions, with that instinct which had made him so valuable an
asset to the old guerilla chieftain, Quantrell, in the days of the Civil
War, he had realized that the one chance of escape open, lay in
reaching the ravine.
Yet his eyes, calculating the distance nicely, told him that, should he
make a dash for it, the troopers could head him off by riding along
the edge of the gorge.
A moment he had been puzzled as to what to do. Then, in a flash, it
had come to him that by retracing his course and riding straight at
the howling savages he might be able to entice the soldiers to follow
him, abandoning their strategic advantages of the position along the
ravine.
With elation, he had seen the troopers fall into his snare.
This accomplished, he had kept watch of their pursuit, waiting for
the instant when they should be so far away from the ravine that he
could beat them to it.
At last the time came.
With a whispered command, he had bidden his pals wheel and rush
for the gorge.
Skilled horsemen all, they had accomplished the turn which was so
sudden that it would have unseated less expert riders.
But so absorbed were they in watching the troopers that they had
not noticed five bucks who had broken away from their fellows and
were bearing down upon them with the speed of whirlwinds.
Riding with marvelous ease and grace, the redmen closed upon
them with incredible rapidity.
No whoop or yell did they utter.
Their success in getting near enough to the men who had killed their
brother warriors and outraged their race by shooting their medicine
woman lay in their silence.
Breathlessly the rest of the braves watched them.
As the echoes of the outlaws' derisive shouts, when they dashed
past the head of the cavalry, died away, one of the bucks
straightened and raised his arm.
Bang! went the pistol in his hand.
The report of the gun was the first intimation Jesse and his pals had
of the proximity of the braves.
And as the bullet whistled over their heads, they whirled on the
backs of their ponies to see who it was that had been able to get
within shooting distance of them, undiscovered.
"Drop em! Drop 'em!" roared the world-famous desperado, adding a
terrible oath.
Crash! went the dozen six shooters.
The six outlaws were firing with a gun in each hand.
But only one Indian toppled from his pony.
"Again!" bellowed Jesse. "Get 'em this time!"
Once more the twelve pistols barked.
And once more only one brave fell.
"What's the matter with you?" snarled the notorious outlaw. "If we
don't get them, they'll get us!"
But the task imposed on the bandits was no easy one.
Keeping their seats on the backs of their madly galloping mounts
only by the grips of their knees, the desperadoes were obliged to
shoot with their bodies twisted round to face behind them.
And small wonder was it that their aim was bad.
But on the three remaining redskins rushed, firing frantically and
behind them thundered the rest of the savages and the troopers,
yelling encouragement.
No chance was there for the little band to throw off the pursuit when
they reached the ravine unless the trio of braves was killed.
Cursing furiously as he saw the second volley had accomplished no
more than the first, Jesse forebore to call for another.
Well he knew that it had been the bullets from the gun in his right
hand that had toppled the two Indians from the horses and he made
up his mind that upon him devolved the killing of the others.
With the marvelous rapidity that had won him his reputation, he
snapped his trusty "Colts" in quick succession.
Two more of the savages pitched from their ponies.
Again his guns spoke.
Yet before he could see the result of his last attempt to drop the
lone buck, Homely Harry shrieked:
"Watch out, boys! We're right on to the ravine!"
The warning came too late.
Even as the cry rang out, the bandits felt their ponies sink beneath
them as the animals rushed over the edge of the gorge.
Never was such horsemanship as Jesse and his pals displayed.
To the average man, the plunge taken at the whirl-wind speed of the
ponies would have meant death.
Turning the instant their pal's voice had sounded, the bandits
steadied themselves by bracing their hands, still holding their
revolvers, against the necks of their mounts, leaning back to offset
the shock when the ponies should strike the brush-covered bottom
of the ravine that yawned beneath them.
To any one in the gorge, they would have seemed like huge,
ungainly birds sailing through the air.
For so terrific was the pace at which the animals had approached the
ravine that their momentum carried them far out over the brush ere
they began to drop.
"Be ready to slide when the pintos strikes!" yelled Comanche Tony,
quickly realizing the danger. "If you tries to set your horses it will
mean your death!"
Quickly his pals relaxed their muscles.
And well was it that the old Indian fighter had given the advice.
With feet braced stiff, the ponies struck the ground.
There was a snapping and cracking and the poor beasts sank down,
their legs broken by the awful force of the impact.
Yet even as they fell, the outlaws, prepared by the warning of
Comanche Tony, shot over their heads, landing in the bushes
unscathed save for scratches and the jolting they received as they
struck.
And as they picked themselves up, they heard the captain of the
troopers roar:
"Find the horses! Jesse and the bunch'll be near 'em. No man could
take that plunge and come out whole."
"That's where your wrong, old top," grinned the world-world famous
desperado. "Quick boys! drop on your hands and knees! We'll work
up the ravine a couple of rods from the ponies and then strike for
the side from which they jumped. Careful, now, we won the race.
But if the troopers or Injuns get their peepers on one of us, its death
to the whole bunch!"
Chapter VII.
DEW DROP AGAIN TO THE RESCUE.
Hurriedly the outlaws dropped to all fours and resumed their
hazardous attempt at escape.
The bushes that grew in the ravine, fortunately for them, were of
sufficient height to conceal their bodies as they advanced. Yet mere
concealment, they knew, was not sufficient to insure their safety.
Should the keen eyes of soldiers or savages detect a suspicious
movement among the brushwood, the hue and cry would instantly
be raised.
And, aware of this full well, the six sorely pressed bandits crawled
with infinite stealth.
So near were the troopers that the creaking of their saddle leathers
was audible, followed almost instantly by the snapping and cracking
of twigs and bushes as the horses picked their way gingerly down
the steep side of the ravine.
Eagerly the eyes of the cavalrymen searched the bottom of the
gorge, bent on discovering the forms of the horses, as their captain
had commanded.
So thick was the tangle of brushwood, however, that it was several
minutes after the desperadoes had heard them crashing into the
ravine ere their hearts were set a flutter by excited cries, breaking
from several mouths at the same time:
"There they are! On the farther side!"
The announcement of the discovery was received with wild cheers.
"Where? Which direction?" yelled those of the troopers whose sight
was unable to discern the dark forms of the ponies writhing in their
suffering.
"To the East! To the East!" answered the ones who saw them.
"Come on! Come on! We've got 'em."
Wild with the excitement of the soldiers at the prospect of capturing
the desperate cutthroats who had defied all efforts of an army of
man-hunters either to kill or to take them into custody, so
successfully.
Yet scarce had the cries of the exuberant troopers rung out than
their commander bellowed:
"Give 'em a volley before you ride at 'em. They're tricky devils!"
In the exigencies of the moment all thought of military discipline was
forgotten.
The captain knew his men and the men knew their captain. Many a
punitive expedition had they ridden on before, against outlaws and
renegade redskins alike and no need was there to waste time in
giving book-rule commands.
No sooner had the words of caution left the officer's lips than the
troopers threw their carbines to their shoulders, sighted them on the
dark, struggling forms in the brushwood and pulled the triggers.
With deafening roar the guns spoke.
Straight and true sped the bullets.
But instead of stopping the heart beats of any of the James gang
they simply put an end to the miseries of the maimed ponies.
As the report of the broadside rang out over the plains, the
cavalrymen urged their mounts forward, eager to be in at the death.
In the stress of their emotions, they had not noticed that no shots
had been fired at them.
Had they been more calm, this fact alone would have told them the
outlaws were not by the ponies.
And it was not till they had reached the bodies of the beasts,
dismounted and searched the nearby bushes that they found that
Jesse and his band had again outwitted them.
But when the fact dawned on them, loud and forceful were their
curses.
"Beat up and down the gorge!" shouted the lieutenant, believing
that the mistake of his superior gave him a license to issue
commands.
"Shut up, you dunderhead!" roared the captain, his face livid with
rage. "I was chasing men when you were in swaddling clothes. I
know how they act.
"The bandits have crossed the ravine and struck into the brush
beyond! After them!"
In a wild scramble, the troopers mounted the farther side of the
ravine, gained the edge and were soon lost to view.
And as the world-famous desperado, peering cautiously from the
brushwood, saw they had vanished, he heaved a mighty sigh of
relief.
Terrible, indeed, had been the suspense of the six men crawling on
hands and knees under cover of the bushes.
On their ears alone had they been obliged to rely to tell them what
was transpiring about them, for they dared not raise their heads to
look, lest the eyes of the troopers decry them.
When they had heard the crash of the volley, Jesse had turned
toward the very bank from which it was fired.
And as the soldiers descended to learn the result of their shots, the
outlaws had crept up the steep incline.
Of necessity, their progress was slow and not more than half way to
the top were they when the words of the captain, expressing his
belief that his quarry was on the farther plain, had reached them.
Still crawling, the bandit-chieftain had waited till he thought
sufficient time had elapsed for all to have gained the plains before
he ventured to look to make sure.
And when he found that the cavalrymen had, indeed, disappeared
over the opposite bank, he quickly apprised his companions.
"I'll bet my hair's turned white," ejaculated Wild Bill. "I ain't never
been through no such tryout before an' I don't want to agin."
"Don't crow too soon," admonished Comanche Tony. "We ain't clear
yet—by a long shot."
"Right you are, pard," declared Jesse, "And it doesn't look as though
we'd get clear," he added. "Duck, boys, duck! Here comes the
Injuns! Skirt the edge of the bank!"
Luckily for themselves, none of the outlaws had risen from the
brushwood so that their chief's exhortation was unnecessary and,
with agility born of desperation, they struck westward along the
crest of the gorge.
When they had seen the troopers change their direction and rush
madly after the fleeing bandits, the savages had checked their
pursuit, all but the five whom Jesse had sent to the Happy Hunting
Ground.
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