s in the narrow belt of forest on their right, where the
slope was less steep than on their left.

At first it seemed to be an intuition, merely a feeling brought on waves
of air that men, enemies, were in the wood. Then he knew that the
feeling was due to sounds as of someone moving lightly through a wet
thicket, but unable to keep the boughs from giving forth a rustle.
He was about to call to Shepard, but before he could do so the spy
stopped. Then all the others stopped also.

"Did you hear it?" Dick whispered to Sergeant Whitley.

"Yes," replied the sergeant. "Men are moving in the thicket on our
right. I couldn't hear much, but they must be as numerous as we are.
They're enemies or they'd have come out. They're on foot, too, as they
couldn't manage horses in those deep woods. Likely they've left their
mounts with a guard on top of a ridge, as men on foot wouldn't be abroad
at such a time on such a night."

"Then it's an ambush!" said Dick, and he added in a sharp voice:

"Pull away to the left, men, under cover!"

Shepard was the first to turn and all the others followed instantly.
Three jumps of the horses and they were among the bushes and trees on the
left. It was lucky for them that they had heard the sound of the wet
bushes rustling together, as a dozen rifles flashed in the dusk on the
other side of the road. 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. They were peculiarly fitted for such
work as that which lay before them, and he was ready and willing to take
advice from either.

"It's a small party," whispered Shepard, "probably not much larger than
ours. They must have expected to make a complete ambush, but we heard
them too soon."

"I