I had determined on my part, and played it calmly.

"And what will you do with your Indian braves?" I asked.

"Sharon shall be a fold of flocks, and the valley of Achor a place to
lie down in, for my people that have sought me," he answered.

"A bonny spectacle," I said. "Man, if you dare to cross the Border you
will be whipped at a cart-tail and clapped into Bedlam as a crazy
vagabond."

"Blasphemer," he shrieked, and ran at me with the knife he had used on
the panther.

It took all my courage to play my game. I stood motionless, looking at
him, and his head fell. Had I moved he would have struck, but to his
mad eyes my calmness was terrifying.

"It sticks in my mind," I said, "that there is a commandment, Do no
murder. You call yourself a follower of the Lord. Let me tell you that
you are no more than a bloody-minded savage, a thousandfold more guilty
than those poor creatures you are leading astray. You serve Baal, not
God, John Gib, and the devil in hell is banking his fires and counting
on your company."

He gibbered at me like a bedlamite, but I knew what I was doing. I
raised my voice, and spoke loud and clear, while my eyes held his in
that yellow dusk.