.
He continued to scowl, and his lips remained mute.

This was embarrassing to a certain extent, though the missionary knew
the cause. He continued, in the same gentle persuasive voice.

"Why does Wa-on-mon frown when he looks upon his pale-faced brother--"

"He is not my brother," interrupted The Panther, with a scowl and look
of indescribable fierceness. "He is a dog, and he shall die!"

CHAPTER XXVI.

IN THE LION'S DEN.

The Panther was in the ugliest mood conceivable. Missionary Finley was
well aware of this before approaching and addressing him. Consequently,
when the chieftain called him a dog and declared he should die, the good
man was neither silenced nor overthrown, though it would be untrue to
say he was not alarmed for his own safety, but he had counted the cost
before making the venture.

"Wa-on-mon did not always look upon the missionary as a dog," he said,
with gentle dignity; "he once called him brother."

"It was because he spoke with a single tongue and was the friend of the
red man," The Panther made haste to say, with no abatement in the
ferocity of expression or manner.

"The missionary always speaks with a single tongue, and he will be the
friend of the red man as long as he lives."

If possible, the wrath of voice and action became more venomous on the
part of The Panther. He unfolded his arms, so as to give facility of
gesture, and with one step forward placed himself so near the white man
that the two could have embraced each other with little change of
position. Then he bent his hideous countenance until the gleaming eyes,
the dangling hair, the white teeth and the painted features were almost
against the mild, beneficent face, which did not shrink or show the
slightest change of looks.

One of the warriors then threw additional wood on the fire, and the
blaze of light lit up the scene as if at noon-day. The Shawanoes
instinctively drew back, so as to leave the principal figures not only
in prominent view, but apart from the others. No one presumed to take
any part in the disputation, but in the stillness and general hush the
words of both were audible to every warrior present.

Little Mabel Ashbridge was perplexed and uncertain what she ought to say
or do, if indeed, she could say or do anything. She did not recognize
the white man who suddenly appeared and addressed the dreadful Indian in
a tongue she could not understand, for it will be remembered that,
although the mi