All around Dick's ears was the hissing sound of bullets, like the alarm from serpents.
The fire at close range was so deadly to both sides that holes were smashed in the mounted ranks.

The shrill screams of wounded horses, far more terrible than the cries of wounded men, struck like knife points on the drums of Dick's ears.

He saw Shepard's horse go down, killed instantly by a heavy bullet, but the spy himself leaped clear, and then Dick lost him in the smoke.

A bullet grazed his own wrist and he glanced curiously at the thin trickle of blood that came from it.

Yet, forgetting it the next instant, he waved his saber above his head, and began to shout to the men.
Rifles and pistols emptied, the Southern horsemen were preparing to charge.