Josiah paused from his long hike to reposition his backpack. During the almost two hours that he had been travelling through the woods his backpack seemed to increase it's weight. Josiah realized this to be a figment of his imagination, but the effect on his aching back remained the same. He reached into his pants pocket, fishing for a rag to sop up some of the sweat that poured from his brow. Finding the handkerchief, he ran it across his sun burnt face while he surrveyed his surroundings.

The mid-summer sun blazed like an orb in a perfectly blue sky. A soft warm breeze danced through the trees making their leaves seem to whisper secrets in a language all their own. Josiah decided that though he was looking forward to arriving at his old friend Jacques cabin, he would take a few moments to drink up both the scenery and some much needed water. A near-by rock beckoned to his weary bones. Josiah took up it's offer, easing his weight down on the unyielding but welcome surface. He reached over his shoulder and removed his backpack. Opening it, Josiah felt through it's contents until his large hand found his canteen. Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, for better grip, he unscrewed the cap and raised the canteen to his parched lips. He guzzled the refreshing water greedily, savoring the cooling effect as it flowed down his throat. After he had drank his fill Josiah replaced the cap of the canteen and with his shirt sleeve he mopped up the water that had missed it's target and run down his chin. It was certainly God's country out here in the wilderness, Josiah thought to himself. A yellow billed magpie decended and perched itself on a near by tree limb. Josiah watched with amusement as the little scavenger's eyes darted along the terrain for any small morsel left behind from a previous kill. A chuckle escaped Josiah's throat. It never ceased to amaze him how thourough God had been in creating the Earth's creatures. Each with it's own specific purpose, including janitorial duties. It was his own purpose in the great scheme of things that had brought Josiah to his dear friend Jacques Beaujeax in the first place.

It was nearly three years ago that Josiah had made the life changing decision to study spiritualism with a Cherokee holy man. It had been two of the hardest yet rewarding years of his life. There had been many test of his faith and character during his studies, but none as hard as his final test in his spiritual quest. At the end of his two years it was required of Josiah to go forth into the wilderness and find spiritual clarity. For a period of fourteen sun rises and sun sets, armed only with a simple hunting knife and the knowledge of Cherokee ways, Josiah was to become one with nature. The ritual proved both grueling and humbling. Mother Earth is a capricious spirit, as Josiah soon found out. If you were respectful of her and the life she granted you she would nurture you. If you displayed arrogance in the face of her power she would break you, and return you to the earth from which you came. Though he thought he was prepared for the test, nature was not inclined to agree. Four days into the ordeal a most horrible storm front set in. The heavens opened up, unleashing a torential down pour that soaked Josiah to the bone and made starting a fire impossible. Josiah had made an attempt to build a lean-to for shelter from the elements, but gail force winds swept away all efforts.

For three days Josiah huddled, shivering, under a large redwood tree. His only food was some berries he had plucked from a near by bush. Any game that he might have hunted were all nestled in their dens, waiting out the strom as well. Josiah began to fear he was not only going to fail this test, but possibly die in the attempt. On the night of his eighth day, overtaken by exhustion, Josiah closed his eyes and curled into a tight ball at the base of the tree. His last thought was a prayer. "Allo! Allo, missieur!" Josiah felt himself being shaken awake and yelled at in some foriegn language. He slowly came out of his slumber and propped himself up on one arm to face his visitor. The man that stood over him looked like the quintessetinal trapper. He wore a long buckskin coat with trousers to match. His face, what was not covered by his thick, greying beard, was weathered to the point of resembling leather. Yet, his brown eyes showed kindness and what seemed like concern for the lost soul he had discovered. Josiah, weakened considerably, sat up slowly and spoke to the man. "Hello. My name is Josiah Sanchez. Could you help me get outta here?" The man gave Josiah a puzzled look, indicating that he had not understood a word Josiah had just said. The man then, with a regretful tone, replied, "Missieur, Je ne parle pas anglaise."(sir, I do not speak english). Great, Josiah thought. His prayer had been answered, but by a man who could not understand his situation. Josiah supressed a chuckle at the irony of it all. Josiah pondered his situation for a breif moment, then decided he was not going to let a laguage barrier keep him from his emmancipation. He looked the man straight in the eyes and withhis right hand motioned to himself. "Josiah." He said slowly, then pointed to the man, hoping he would understand that he was asking for his name. The man was a quick study, and gave Josiah an understanding smile and nodded his head. He then mimiced Josiah's motion on himself and said, "Jeacques." To this Josiah nodded to indicate understanding. Well, he thought to himself, now that the intoductions are done, how do I make him understand that I need to get out of here? Again, he pondered the idea. Hand signals had seemed to be effective up to this point. Josiah decided, when in a sticky situation, go with what you know. Once more he looked the man straight in the eyes. Josiah motioned to himself, then signaled away from his present position as he said, "I need to get out of here." He knew the man had no use for his words, but old habits died hard. A perplexed expression came over the man's features. Josiah began to fear that he would never get his point across. Yet, after a moment, a light seemed to go off in the man's eyes. "Ah! Oui, oui. Tu vas."(Ah, yes yes. You go.) The man said as he mirrored Josiah's earlier actions. With that he bent over to help Josiah to his feet. He was not an overly large man, but his size betrayed the solidness of his structure.With one motion Josiahwas on his feet and ready to be lead wherever the kind man was willing to take him. As long as it was the hell away from here, Josiah thought, it would resemble Heaven.

Actually, where the two men ended up was not far off. Jacques had taken Josiah to his cabin, nestled in a clearing not more than two miles from where he had found Josiah. There he had allowed Josiah to take a warm bath to remove the chill from his aching bones and supplied him with dry clothes. Jacques then motioned for Josiah to take a place near the raging fireplace. As he did a young lady, maybe seventeen or so, cautiously approached him, bearing a steaming bowl of beef stew. She thrust it towards Josiah, avoiding all eye contact. When Josiah accepted it he gave her a huge grin and said, "Thank you little one." The girl stood frozen, then looked anxiously at her father, as if for direction. Jacques smiled at his daughter and said,"Cheyenne, parle beinvenue."(say your welcome.) The thought of having to speak to this strange man must have overwhelmed her because she spun on her heels and ran to a back room.

Josiah was brought back to the present day by a horrible squawking sound. He gazed in the direction of the noise to see that a second magpie had joined the first, and they were now involved in a tug of war over some scraps. Josiah shook his head in amusement, and gathered up his belongings. He felt rested enough to continue his journey, and besides, he didn't want Jacques and Cheyenne to start worrying about him. Over the last year Josiah had become very close to Jacques and little Cheyenne. "Little." Josiah spoke out loud and chuckled. Cheyenne was not exactly a little girl. She was a young woman now, nearly nineteen. Her shyness with him, thankfully, had subsided over the last year. The language barrier had been removed over the year, as well. Jacques had taught Josiah French and Cheyenne taught him her late mother's native tongue Cheyenne. Josiah in return, taught them some of his English, but all prferred the mixed French/Cheyenne dialect that they called their own. God, Josiah thought, it will be so good to see then again. With that slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed in the direction of Jacques cabin.

"Hurry with that stew Cheyenne." Jacques lightly scolded his daughter in their native tongue. "Josiah will soon be here, and he will be hungry from his journey." "It's coming!" She answered, stiring the large kettle of beef stew. She smiled to herself and whispered, "I want it to be just right." Cheyenne had been anticipating Josiah's visit for nearly two weeks now. As the day of his arrival grew closer the butterflies in her stomache increased their fluttering. She was perplexed by this reaction to her father's friend's arrival. Afterall, Josiah had been visiting them for nearly a year now. Yet each time he arrived her heart thumped harder in her chest, and each time he left it ached for a longer period of time. Cheyenne shook her head, as if to dislodge the thought. How foolish, she thought, to think of a family friend in such a manner. Cheyenne decided to chock it up to merely missing someone she had grown fond of. Afterall, her father too, looked foreward to Josiah's visits. Since she had never really had any close friends to call her own, Cheyenne had nothing to compare her feelings toward Josiah to. She only knew that the times she spent with Josiah were some of her happiest. Cheyenne laddled out a small portion of the stew to test. She tasted the steaming concoction. "Needs more onion." She murmered. "Josiah likes lots of onion."

A loud rapping at the door of the cabbin jolted Cheyenne from her thoughts. Jacques made his way to the door and flung it open with exuberence."Josiah! Welcome!" In true French tradition Jacques embraced his friend. "Come. You must be starving." Jacques released his hearty embrace and motioned for Josiah to sit at the table. Josiah gave his friend a warm smile. "Thank you Jacques, food would be great right about now." He replied, rubbing his stomach to indicate his hunger. As Josiah headed towards the large table centered in the cabin a motion by the fireplace caught his attention. He looked over and saw Cheyenne watching him as she stirred a large pot. His grin widened and placing his backpack on the table, he rushed over to where she stood. "Cheyenne! How wonderful to see you again!" Josiah spread his muscular arms, ready to hug the girl. Cheyenne matched his smile and set down her ladle in order to accept his embrace. "I am good, how was your journey?" She asked, returning his hug. "Too long!" He replied. "I could not wait to see my Anni." Reffering to her by the pet name Josiah had given Cheyenne on one of his very first visits.

The combination of Josiah's words and his arms around her caused the butterflies in her stomach to flutter at a furious pace. Her feelings overwhelming her, Cheyenne pulled away. She picked up the ladle once again, and focused on the stew, hoping Josiah had not noticed her akwardness. Josiah was oblivious to Cheyenne's current emotional termoil. He stepped up beside her and putting his arm around her shoulders, inhaled the aroma of the stew and remarked, "Sure smells good Anni." "Thank you Josiah." Cheyenne mumbled, keeping her eyes focused on the rotating laddle. All her scences were in overload as the warmth from Josiah's arm seemed to sear her down to her very being. The longer they stood in this manner, the more aware Cheyenne was of the sensation, until she could feel the warmth spread upwards to her cheeks. Just when she thought she could no longer bear the exquist agony her father broke the spell. "Come, Josiah. Sit and rest." Jacques called to his friend, motioning to the seat at the table next to the one he had taken. He then turned his attention to his daughter. "Cheyenne, stop stirring that stew and serve it. Josiah will die of hunger soon." His voice was stern but he snuck Josiah a wink to indicate his bark held no bite.

Taking his place at the table Josiah asked Jacques, "So, how is the trapping business been this season?" While waiting for his reply Josiah took the opportunity to open his backpack and retrieve the gifts he had brought for his friends. Jacques watched as Josiah rummaged through his bag and answered simply, " The lord and the land have been good to me." He was an accoplished trapper of many years, but Jacques was not a vain man. Finding what he was after, Josiah produced two items from his bag. "Good to hear, my friend." A steaming bowl of stew and a mug of ale were placed in front of Josiah. He looked up at Cheyenne and thanked her. She nodded, smiled, and went to get the same for her father. Picking up one of the items he handed it to Jacques. "Here, this is for you." The gift was a new hunting knife, which Josiah knew Jacques was in need of. Picking up one of the items he handed it to Jacques. "Here, this is for you." The gift was a new hunting knife, which Josiah knew Jacques was in need of. Jacques gave his friend a mock scowl, as he removed his elbows from the table to allow Cheyenne to set down his lunch. "Now Josiah, you know you don't got to bring us things when you come. Just yourself is enough, right Cheyenne?" He asked, inlisting Cheyenne to convince Josiah. With a shy smile she looked at Josiah and replied, "Yes, your visits are gift enough." Cheyenne then averted her eyes, fearing they would betray the depth of her words. "Well, thank you both." Josiah said as he placed the knife in front of Jacques, indicating he would not let the gift be refused. "I know I don't HAVE to bring gifts, but I like to. So take 'em before you hurt my feelings." With this he grinned and gave Cheyenne a mischievious wink. Josiah picked up an object wrapped in cloth and handed it to Cheyenne. "And this, my dear, is for you." Shocked by the offering, Cheyenne paused for a moment, but curiousity over took her. She held out her hands, allowing Josiah to place the gift in them. Flashing Josiah a huge grin she carefully unwrapped the present. Cheyenne was not accustom to recieveing gifts. Her father and her lived a simple life, living off the land, and pruchasing only items of nessesity. As the cloth fell away a most beautiful music box was revealed. Made of red wood and bearing intricate carving on both the lid and front, it was the most beautiful thing Cheyenne had ever seen. On closer inspection she saw that the design on the top of the box was that of an Indian maiden. Cheyenne slowly ran her thumb over the image as she searched for the words to tell Josiah how much she loved the gift. Finally, nerver being one for fancy talk, Cheyenne simply looked into Josiah's eyes and whispered, "Thank you. It's beautiful." The look on her face was thanks enough for Josiah. He could tell she was very pleased with the little music box, as he hoped she would be. Noticing Cheyenne's thumb tracing the picture on the lid, Josiah remarked, "I found it in a little shop while passing through a small village just South of here. When I saw the carving of the maiden on the top it reminded me of you, so I just couldn't resist." Cheyenne's eyes darted back to the box. Though the image was small, the detail was extrordinary. It reminded her of a portrait she had once seen of a beautiful Indian princess. The flutter in her stomach returned. She wondered, was this how Josiah saw me? He had said it reminded him of her, but to what extent? Was it merely that the carving was of and Indian woman, or did Josiah think she, too, was beautiful.

Jacques interupted her thoughts by placing his rough hand on her arm and saying, "Cheyenne, are you going to answer me or just gawk at the box all day?" She tore her gaze away from the image and with a puzzled expression asked, "I'm sorry father, did you say something?" Rolling his eyes and letting an exasperated sigh escape his lips Jacques replied, "I asked you if you were going to just stand there or get some food and join us." "Oh! Yes, father, I will eat with you." Cheyenne quickly rewrapped the music box and went to place it safely in her room. Once there, she opened a small chest containing her clothing and placed the box there out of harms way. She desperately hoped Josiah had not thought her foolish for allowing her mind to wander like that. A warm flush colored her cheeks as she considered what Josiah would think if only he could have read her thoughts at that moment. Well, as far as she knew mind reading was not among Josiah's many talents. Something Cheyenne was very grateful for.

Returning to the main room, Cheyenne dished herself some of the hearty stew and took her place at the table. "Anni, this stew is the best I've ever tasted." Josiah said, loading his spoon and taking another mouthful. "Thank you." Cheyenne answered, once agian unable to meet his gaze but warmed by his compliment. "Yes, daughter, very good." Jacques then directed his words to Josiah. "She is a good cook. Just like her mother was." These last words held an echo of sadness. Jacques rarely spoke of his late wife. The mention of her sent a hush over the table and all three continued their meal in silence. Continueing to eat his stew, Jacques mind flashed back to nearly twenty years ago. He had always been a trapper, and as such, became very close to many of the Indian tribes in his area. In one Cheyenne tribe Jacques became good friends with it's chief, Strong Wolf. Strong Wolf treated Jacques as one of his own, always providing him with food and shelter during his visits. He also taught Jacques many of the hunting techniques that had served Jacques so well all these years.

Jacques always enjoyed his visits with Strong Wolf, but sometimes felt guilty about his slightly alterior motives. The chief was not the only person he looked forward to spending time with. Strong Wolf had a daughter, Flying Raven, who's beauty enraptured Jacques the moment he had layed eyes on her. Raven, which Jacques had called her, had the most beautiful golden brown eyes and ebony black hair that fell just below her waist. Jacques found himself searching her out during his visits, finding any excuse to speak with her. It was not long before Strong Wolf senced Jacques attraction towards his daughter and confronted him on the issue. Not ever wanting to lie to his friend Jacques admitted his feelings for Raven and begged Strong Wolf for her hand in marriage. Under normal cercumstances Strong Wolf would never have given his beloved daughter to white man, but Jacques was not your normal white man. He had always respected the Cheyenne ways and had always been a good friend. After considering Jacques request he told his friend that he would ask Raven her wishes. If she, too, felt the same about Jacques then he would give his blessing. Raven had also fallen in love and asked her father to let her marry the man who put fire in her heart. So it was done. Jacques and Raven were wed in a traditional Cheyenne ceremony and Jacques built her a cabin not far from her people's tribe.

There they started a life together, both filled with the happiness that can only come from true, undying love. Not long after they were wed Raven made Jacques heart swell with joy when she told him she was with child. Chief Strong Wolf was overjoyed with the news that his daughter would give him a grandchild. He invited Raven and Jacques to come back to the tribe when Raven was ready to deliver, and let the tribes women aid Raven in the birthing. They agreed, both anxiously awaiting the blessed event. Jacques doted on his wife all throughout her pregnancy, no request was too great. Whether it was to rub her aching back or even help with some of the chores when she grew too tired, he did it all gladly. Jacques had always dreamed of having a son. Someone he could pass on his knowledge to and carry on the family name. As promised, when her time grew near Jacques readied a small wagon he had purchased, and took his Raven back home for the birth. Three days after their arrival, in the middle of the night, Raven woke Jacques to tell him the time had come. Jacques immediatly dressed and went to fetch the tribe midwife. Excitment and pride pulsed through Jacques vains, but these emotions were to be replaced with much darker ones.

The birth was a difficult one. The midwife tried everything she knew but Raven was not destined mother the child she and Jacques created. After many hours of intense labour, Raven gave birth to a baby girl. The midwife cleansed the child and handed her to Raven. Knowing that she close to her death, she in turn handed the swaddled infant to Jacques and whispered in a hoarse voice, "Love her Jacques. As long as she lives we are never truly apart. Promise me this." As he ackwardly craddled his daughter, his eyes filled with tears and he whispered back," I promise." Knowing that her daughter would be safe with the man she loved, Raven gave Jacques one last smile, then released her spirit. Overtaken with grief, Jacques let a sob rip from his lips as he bent over to kiss his beloved one last time. His first thoughts were to join his dear Raven in the afterlife, not being able to imagine life without the woman who had brought such joy to his life. Yet, as these thoughts sparked in his mind, his newborn daughter squirmed in his arms and began to cry. Jacques reluctantly shifted his gaze from his wife's body to the baby in his arms. For the first time he looked into the eyes of his child, mirror images of Raven's. Jacques was immediatly reminded of his last words to his dying wife. Though he had no idea as to how he would care for this child, a daughter no less, he could not break his promise to Raven. At this moment, Cheif Strong Wolf entered the tipi and knelt beside his beloved daughter. As a single tear rolled down his bronze cheek he whispered the words "Goodbye my beautiful one" in their native toungue, then kissed her forehead. Jacques was suddenly filled with the guilt that he was the cause of Raven's death. Tears spilling forth, he could not meet Strong Wolf's gaze. "I am to blame. If it were not for me......" "No, Jacques." Strong Wolf interupted, leaving Raven's empty shell and squwatting next to Jacques and his new grandchild. "You cannot blame yourself. You are not the giver of life...so, in turn, you cannot take it away." The cheif shifted his gaze to the child Raven had fought so hard to bring into the world. "Our people believe that life is a circle. Some circles, like Flying Raven's, take less time to connect. It is our duty to make sure our loved one's circles experience much joy." He then stroked his grand daughters tiny cheek with his finger and continued, "You gave my daughter much happiness.....and now you must do the same for your child." Jacques let the wise man's words sink in, then slowly nodded his head. "I will, my friend. I promised Raven, just before she died, that I would love this child and care for her." His eyes once again falling on his daughter, he felt his heart warm slightly. He was not sure what kind of father he would make without Raven to guide him. How could his heart, so freshly wounded by loss, give love once agian? Yet, Jacques knew he must find a way....for Raven.

So it was, that after spending a short time with the knowledgeable tribe's women that Jacques returned to his home with his daughter. He had yet to choose a name for the child, still too grief stricken to attempt anything but neccesary tasks. A woman from the village vistied often, assisting Jacques in his new role as a father. When she asked if he had choosen a name for the child yet Jacques had replied, "No.....I have just been calling her my little Cheyenne. I cannot think of a name that suits her." Knowing that the Cheyenne people carefully chose their children's names to reflect who they were, Jacques had shied away from doing so. The woman smiled at Jacques, watching as he fed the child the goat's milk that she had brought for him. "I think you just did." Jacques gave the woman a puzzled expression. "Did what? Name her?" "Yes." She replied. Staring intently at his child he pondered what the woman had said. "Hmm.......Cheyenne......yes, that could be her name, Cheyenne," Having given his daughter a proper name gave Jacques an unexpected sence of pride and joy.

As the years flew by Jacques found that his heart could love again. Although a day never went by that he did not miss his beatiful Raven, he needed only to look at Cheyenne and the aching would subside. She posessed many of Raven's characteristcs, such as her beauty, and loving nature. Those, coupled with the skills Jacque taught her, made Cheyenne grow into a perfect blending of the two people who had once loved each other so much.