ort to The
Panther.

The absence of these warriors, we say, was suggestive, but caused the
missionary no concern. With the pioneers were Daniel Boone and his
rangers, while Simon Kenton was somewhere between the hostile forces.
After the late escape of the party from The Panther and his men, no
great fear was to be entertained of them.

Mabel Ashbridge, wondering, distressed and sorrowful, sat on the fallen
tree, now and then looking around the camp and following the movements
of the painted men as they passed to and fro, some of them occasionally
glancing toward her with a scowl and gleam of the black eyes, which
terrified her, but most of the time her gaze rested upon the chieftain
and white man talking near her.

How odd their words sounded! She could hear everything said, and yet it
was in another language, and seemed as if they were mumbling over
gibberish, like a couple of children for their own amusement, except
that the chief most of the time acted as though he was angry at the
white man, who looked so pleasant and kind that she was sure he must
have a little girl at home.

But strange, novel and exciting as all this seemed, it soon became
monotonous to her. Unable to learn of its meaning, she became drowsy,
and, leaning over and laying her head on the log beside her, she closed
her eyes in slumber.

Thus matters stood when the missionary said:

"The white and red children of the Great Spirit, I fear, will always
fight each other. The missionary has tried to make them live in peace,
but he can do nothing. The Shawanoes have made captive a little girl
over whose head only the moons of a pappoose have passed. A few hours
ago the pale-faces made captive the great chieftain Wa-on-mon, but the
white hunter let him go free."

The Panther was about to interrupt angrily, when the missionary
continued, with the same calm evenness of voice:

"The white hunter did not set Wa-on-mon free because he loved him, but
rather because he hated him. He wished to meet him in combat; but when
he went to the place where Wa-on-mon promised to meet him, the chieftain
was not there. The great Wa-on-mon was not afraid of the white man;
therefore, he must have made a mistake and gone elsewhere."

"Wa-on-mon made haste to meet his warriors, that he might lead them
against the pale-faces and slay them all."

"He lost more braves than did the pale-faces, but the white hunter must
not think the mighty Wa-on-mon is afraid of him."