He raised his head, and he laid his gun to his shoulder.
Out upon the roof of the cabin, ringed as it was with fire, there sprang a man of gigantic aspect, daubed and tattooed in vermilion, his hair braided in scarlet, and one white tuft conspicuous in the black.

He stood upon the roof, glaring wildly round him as if meditating a spring.

Doubtless the smoke and fire shielded him in some sort from observation.

Had not there been one relentless foe vowed to his destruction, he might in all probability have leaped the ring of flame and escaped with his life.
But Charles had covered him with his gun.

The chieftain saw the gleaming barrel, and paused irresolute.