"I greet my brother Wa-on-mon, in whose lodge I have slept in safety when there was no other place to lay my head."
As he spoke he extended his hand, but The Panther, with his serpent eyes fixed upon the face of his visitor, made no motion to unfold his arms. 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."