Not an assailant could be seen. Leaving their ponies at a distance, the Indians had crept through the protecting grass to the nearest point prudent, and, crouching low or lying on their faces, fired into the camp. In the same moment the guns began popping from behind and alongside the wagons. Each man aimed at the flash nearest to him, for the instant illumination was his only guide. Then as quickly as the redskins could reload, they fired again, but always from a different point. They were using the trick common among white rangers of rolling aside the instant after pulling trigger. In the briefest conceivable time the whites discharged their weapons, but in that flitting interval, their enemies had shifted their position, and the bullets whizzed harmlessly past in the grass, or buried themselves in the earth. Inasmuch as each party rarely saw a member of the other, it was inevitable that most of the shots went wild.