One rose a little higher than the rest and he fell back with a cry, a bullet in his shoulder.
Ned was surprised and puzzled.

Whence had come these shots?
There was the line of Mexican cavalry, well out of range, and, beyond the horsemen, were the infantry.

He could see nothing, but the wounded shoulder was positive proof that some enemy was near.
There was a third crack, and a man fell to the bottom of the hollow, where he lay still.

The bullet had gone through his head.

Ned saw a wreath of smoke rising from a tiny hillock, a hundred yards away, and then he saw lifted for only a moment a coppery face with high cheek bones and coarse black hair.