How he ever ran along that slanting roof and with a pail in his hand was incomprehensible.
In moments like that men become superhuman.

It all happened in an instant.

He reached the arrow, kicked it over the wall, and then dashed the bucket of water on the blazing shingles.

In that single instant, wherein his tall form was outlined against the bright light behind him, he presented the fairest kind of a mark for the Indians.
Scores of rifles were levelled and discharged at him.

The bullets pattered like hail on the roof of the block-house, but apparently none found their mark, for the man ran back and disappeared.
"It was Clarke!" exclaimed Col.Zane.