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He planned to observe all the tribal customs during his stay in the village.
    The day before, traveling downward toward the village from a higher peak, he spotted a perfectly formed little cove protected by large boulders on one side and a high bank on the other. The river appeared to form a deep pond where it flowed through the cove. He could think of no better place to bathe and perform his own ceremony to greet the sun.
    The warrior standing guard at the gate offered no resistance when James called out his intention of going to water outside of the Cherokee fortress. Once outside, he sprinted toward the boulders that formed a natural wall to the cove and offered only a narrow pathway through.
    It took no great ability at tracking to see this was indeed a well-used passage or to see that the spongy moss had been recently trod upon. He glanced up at the brightening sky and felt a moment of disappointment at not having the cove to himself, but there was nothing else to do. The sun would soon peek over the horizon.
    James quickly slipped between the boulders and looked around. The still emptiness of the cove sent a whispered warning along his senses. Lifting his knife to his lips he slid the blunted side of the blade between his teeth and bit down securely.
    As he stripped off his breechcloth he let his vision scan the cane. Then, with a quick glance back to a particularly thick path of green growth, he grinned and then dove into the icy water.
    ***
    New Moon dug her nails into the soil as she peered out from her hiding place among the river cane. The white man invaded her special place. All the others knew this was her place. No one ever bothered her here. Not until now, not until this.. .white man.
    She watched and listened as he washed and sang a white man's song. He sang loudly in his own language. His voice changed in tone in a most unusual, but not unpleasant way.
    She glanced to the east. The sky brightened as she watched. Her resentment grew and made sitting still more than she could manage. She shifted her weight, a motion too minute to attract attention.
    The sun rose to brighten the eastern sky and she gritted her teeth. He raised his arms and spoke the first words of the Cherokee prayer. His deep voice embraced the words of her ancestors and presented them with pride to the sun and the Great Spirit, causing her breath to catch in her throat as she listened.
    He spoke the greeting beautifully. Finishing the prayer he turned back toward the bank. New Moon tensed as his gaze moved across the cane where she hid. She assured herself he could not see her, but still her skin tingled with uncertainty.
    This white man was like no other she had seen. Even in nakedness he wore his strength and pride as naturally as a most beloved warrior. This was uncommon for white men who thought the layers of bear-hide and the assortment of weapons hanging from their bodies could enhance their strength.
    The aura of power that surrounded him intrigued her. She held her breath as water ran from his hair in little streams that captured her attention and carried her vision along. It cascaded over the bulging strength of his shoulders and down his chest to his narrow waist.
    She closed her eyes and swallowed hard as the memory of that chest and rippled waist pressed hard against her back flooded her being with unwanted desire. Like a person suffocating, she gulped in the air she withheld from her lungs.
    New Moon stiffened and her eyes flew open. The scent of a mountain cat filled her nostrils. Instantly her warrior instincts came to life and she berated herself for behaving like a silly woman. The cat was near. She glanced at the leaves of the cane, checking the wind's direction.
    Her entire being tensed with foreboding as she turned her attention back to the No Thing. He took another step in her direction and she saw the smug grin spread across his face.
    This white man who thought to pass himself off as a warrior was aware of her, but not