They did not really anticipate the presence of an enemy in the pass.  They knew that Colonel Talbot’s command had turned toward the southwest.  All the other Confederate forces must be gathering far up the valley to meet Sheridan, and the South was too much reduced to raise new men.  Yet after a half hour’s moderate riding down the slope Dick became sure that some one was 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.”

“It’s surely not a part of Colonel Talbot’s command,” said Dick.  “If so, Harry Kenton and his friends would certainly be there and I shouldn’t like to be in battle with them again.”