Bullets cut the leaves about them.

Two or three buried themselves with a plunk in the trunks of trees, one killed a horse, the trooper springing clear without hurt, and one man was wounded slightly in the arm.
"Take cover," called Dick, "but don't lose your horses!" They dismounted and concealed themselves behind the trunks of trees.
Some hastily tethered their horses to bushes, but others hung the bridle over an arm.

They knew that if a combat was to occur it must be fought on foot, but, for the present, they were compelled to wait.

Yet if their enemy was hidden from them they also were hidden from him.

All the conditions of an old Indian battle in darkness and ambush were reproduced, and Dick was deeply grateful that he had at his elbow two redoubtable champions like Whitley and Shepard.