The European calendar said that the date was April 15, 1562. To the young indian man standing alone on the top of a windswept dune, gazing out over the vast Atlantic Ocean, it was just another spring day in the World that would one day be called Florida.
Naa-Sue was a Potano trader. His village was located in the center of the peninsula and it had taken him five days, following the game trails to reach the coast where the items in his pack would be traded with the people in Mocama Village called Seloy. Today though, he had an even more exciting goal in mind. During his last visit, six big moons ago, he met a beautiful young Mocama girl named Cato. On this visit he was determined to ask her to return to his village and become his wife. He could barely contain his mounting excitement. Her village was close and he would be there by dark.
As he lifted his pack and turned toward her village, he suddenly noticed something that caused him to freeze in his tracks. He dropped his pack and shaded his eyes with both hands. There on the distant horizon was a sight that instantly turned his excitement into foreboding. Naa-Sue felt a knot begin to form in his stomach. It was a sailing ship. He had heard it described, but at eighteen winters of age, he had never really believed the stories. The Little People of the Sun had come back.
Fifty years before he was born, the Little People had come through his village in the center of the World. It was said that they had taken the food that his village had stored for the winter and when the village elders tried to stop them they were murdered by lightning spears and torn apart by beasts that none of his people had ever seen. It was reported that they burned the village and forced several young girls to go with them as they headed up the path toward the colder place. Now they were back.
He picked up his pack and began to run towards Cato’s village. He had to get there before they did.