But before he went much further his foot struck a trailing vine, and he fell so hard, his head striking the trunk of a tree, that he lay unconscious.
The cold rain drove so fiercely on the fallen boy's face and body that he revived in two or three minutes, and stood up.

He clapped his hand to the left side of his head, and felt there a big bump and a sharp ache.
His weapons were still in his belt and he knew that his injuries were not serious, but he heard nothing save the drive and roar of the wind and rain.

There was no calling of voices and no beat of footsteps.
He divined at once that his comrades, wholly unaware of his fall, when no one could either see or hear it, had gone on without missing him.
They might also mount their horses and gallop away wholly ignorant that he was not among them.
Although he was a little dazed, Dick had a good idea of direction and he plunged through the mud which was now growing deep toward the little ravine in which they had hitched their horses.

All were gone, including his own mount, and he had no doubt that the horse had broken or slipped the bridle in the darkness and followed the others.
He stood a while behind the trunk of a great tree, trying to shelter himself a little from the rain, and listened.

But he could hear neither his friends leaving nor any foes approaching.