“He has not harmed you or anyone you know,” she said.

“It matters not.” The man sneered at her.

“He’s never taken, not even touched, anything man-made,” she insisted.

“He has touched you.” The man’s expression, hard as stone, frightened her.

“I’m my own self. What I do is not for you to decide.” She stood tall, looking him straight in the eye.

He laughed, and his laughter frightened her even more.

“Your beauty will not be wasted on such a filthy creature,” he said.

She understood, then. There was nothing she could do but hide.

Wikatcha,

Near the Creek town of Coosa, a large pond—perhaps more of a small lake—was known for b...

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