The bullets of the posse had neither torn a tendon nor broken a bone.
The bullets of Allister and Clune might have gone home— they were intended to kill, not to wound.
When Yates reached the tent, he found it empty and torn by bullets.
Bullets were flying in all directions, and there was no question of shelter.
The bullets of the enemy made "watery flashes" on all sides.
Still his bullets fell in the center of the crouching party.
Besides, they can rake us with bullets from ambush, while we're climbing up the ridge.
Yet the Southern line approached and some bullets whistled near him.
Their clothing was torn by bullets and reddened by dripping wounds.
My own skin has been broken, but just barely, four times by bullets.