Harry Bennet's death at the south bastion where, though riddled with
bullets, he stuck to his post until relieved. Clark's race, across the
roof of the fort to extinguish a burning arrow, she applauded with
clapping hands. Her great eyes glowed and burned, but she was silent,
when hearing how Wetzel ran alone to a break in the stockade, and
there, with an ax, the terrible borderman held at bay the whole
infuriated Indian mob until the breach was closed. Lastly Betty Zane's
never-to-be-forgotten run with the powder to the relief of the
garrison and the saving of the fort was something not to cry over or
applaud; but to dream of and to glorify.

"Down that slope from Colonel Zane's cabin is where Betty ran with the
powder," said Mabel, pointing.

"Did you see her?" asked Helen.

"Yes, I looked out of a port-hole. The Indians stopped firing at the
fort in their eagerness to shoot Betty. Oh, the banging of guns and
yelling of savages was one fearful, dreadful roar! Through all that
hail of bullets Betty ran swift as the wind."

"I almost wish Girty would come again," said Helen.

"Don't; he might."

"How long has Betty's husband, Mr. Clarke, been dead?" inquired Helen.

"I don't remember exactly. He didn't live long after the siege. Some
say he inhaled the flames while fighting fire inside the stockade."