One Autumn Afternoon

Indian summer. A brief period of unusually warm and calm weather that sometimes occurs in late fall after the first killing frost brings the harvest time to a close. It is a gift from nature. A last reprieve. A chance to experience one last taste of warmth before the long cold winter months set in.

Such was the weather one early November afternoon that found Uncas and Alice relaxing on the front porch of their home, sitting side by side in their favorite rocking chairs while enjoying the sunshine together on what would be the last warm day of the year. Several other chairs were lined up on the porch as well, but the couple could always be counted on to be found seated in these particular two. With the rockers having been taken inside and placed on either side of the kitchen fireplace when the weather first turned cold the previous month, they were brought back out to the porch again a few days ago when it grew unseasonably warm again.

It was a quiet afternoon. With the rest of the family away on a fishing trip to a nearby lake, Uncas and Alice were taking pleasure in the privacy everyone's absence afforded them. They loved their family dearly. But with four adults and three small children living under the same roof, quiet time like this was hard for them to come by. And it was not because their home was small, not by any means. Uncas and Nathaniel had built the modest, two-story clapboard farmhouse the following year after the two brothers married the Munro sisters in the fall of 1757. It was a far bigger house than was needed at the time. But Uncas had wisely anticipated the need for more room as time went on.

Seated in his customary place to his wife's right, Uncas worked at cleaning his musket after a successful morning hunt. Having bagged a young buck, the remains of the partially butchered carcass hung in a tree beside the porch, awaiting further butchering. Expertly disassembling the musket, he meticulously cleaned and oiled each piece with a muslin rag, making sure every last part met his high standards before it earned the right to be reassembled again. With a savory pot of fresh venison stew simmering in the kitchen fireplace and fresh bread cooling on the table, all made by his wife's loving hands, Uncas smiled contentedly, knowing his family would eat well that night and in the days to come.

While he worked on his musket, Uncas fondly looked back on the many hunts he'd participated in throughout his life with Nathaniel and Chingachgook. And as always, thoughts of his father made his eyes wander over to a lone maple tree, which stood next to the path that went into the woods and led down to the lake. With an amused smile, he contemplated how, of all the trees that bordered their farm, this particular tree was the only one his sons would climb. And no matter how much of a daredevil each of them were, none of the boys ever fell out of it, something he always attributed to the fact that Chingachgook was buried underneath the tree, and it was his unseen hands that protected his grandsons and kept them from falling. With a warm look filling both his dark brown eyes and his smile, Uncas gazed at the tree for a moment more before resuming the task of cleaning his musket, silently conveying his love to the father he missed every single day since the man's passing.

Sitting beside Uncas, Alice was busy adding the last finishing touches to a warm cotton flannel shirt she was sewing for him. As deeply in love with her husband as the day she became his bride, she took great pleasure and pride in taking care of him, making sure that he had everything he could possibly want or need.

Watching his wife, Uncas smiled to himself as he observed how quickly and skillfully she sewed his new shirt, which had taken her no time at all to make. Sewing was something she always enjoyed doing, almost as much as she enjoyed knitting. Setting the musket and cleaning cloth on his lap, Uncas arched his back and placed his hand inside of the open collar of his shirt. Moving his right shoulder several times in a circular motion while he massaged it, he then touched the scar on the front of his shoulder, one of several scars he bore as a result of his fight with Magua that day on a mountain called the Promontory. Without pausing in her sewing, Alice glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

"Is your shoulder troubling you again?" she quietly asked.

"A bit." he replied.

"And your back, too?" she inquired, referring to where two other scars from the Huron's knife were located.

"Mmm."

"Then tonight before bed, I will give you a massage with some of Cora's liniment." she informed him.

Feeling a familiar quiver above her thighs at the thought of seeing Uncas naked, something she never tired of seeing, Alice looked forward to slowly rubbing her hands over her husband's strong, muscular body in their bed that night. An act which would no doubt lead to their making love, as it always did.

"I'd like that." Uncas softly replied, also anticipating the passion they would share that evening.

Noticing several strands of hair had escaped from the loose braid that hung over her shoulder, he reached out and captured the errant strands, then lovingly tucked them behind her ear. This done, he next brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek, before giving her nose a playful tweak. Smiling at the tenderness of his touch, Alice looked up at this man who was her husband and best friend, and fell in love with him all over again, as she did each time he looked at her this way. Losing herself in his handsome features and his warm, dark brown eyes, she returned his loving gaze with one of her own. Reaching out her hand, she placed it on the side of Uncas' face and caressed his cheek with her thumb, which earned her a kiss on her palm. After Alice resumed her sewing, Uncas focused his attention upward, and sniffed the air while studying the clear blue sky overhead.

"This will be the last warm day until the coming spring. Tonight it will rain, and tomorrow morning will bring another heavy frost. Before the week has passed, we will see the first snow of winter." he announced.

Bringing her rocking chair to a halt, Alice likewise looked up at the sky and sniffed the air, but could discern nothing to indicate that cold weather would soon be upon them. But she knew Uncas well, and he was never wrong about such things. With a gentle smile, she continued to sew as she once again began to rock back and forth.

"Then I am glad I am almost finished with your new flannel shirt. You can wear it tomorrow to keep you warm." she said.

"You spoil me, Alice. You're a good wife. Always taking care of me, keeping our home warm and clean, with plenty of food on the table."

"Food that my brave Mohican warrior provides!" she reminded him proudly.

"Only the meat. You do all the rest. Growing the vegetables, and picking the fruits and berries."

"You have been known to be found loitering about near the berry patches as well from time to time. Although from my observations, I suspect you end up eating more than you put into your basket!" she said with a girlish giggle, which quickly changed to admiration. "But you, my husband, are a skilled hunter. You never fail to bring home the game you seek."

"And you never fail to make sure that I always have plenty of clothes to wear. I'll soon have to build another room onto the house, just so I'll have a place to keep everything!" an amused Uncas jested back, thinking of all of the cloth shirts; buckskin leggings and moccasins, some lined with fur for winter; spare loincloths; scarves and mittens she was always sewing or knitting for him. Not to mention the new, heavy wool blanket coat that was hanging on a peg just inside the door.

"It is my duty as your wife to ensure that you always have a sufficient amount of clothing to wear. I'll not have my husband walking about naked…as much as I would enjoy seeing that." Alice added, casting a deliciously wicked grin at Uncas as she said it.

"I doubt the rest of the family would share that enjoyment with you." he replied with a grin of his own.

"Probably not!"

Returning his attention to his musket, Uncas cast another glance at Alice as she sewed the hem on his new shirt. In doing so, he reflected on how she preferred to do her sewing during the day, and her knitting while in bed with him at night. It was then that he was reminded of her latest knitting project.

"How is the blanket for the baby coming along?" he asked.

"I am nearly finished with it." Alice replied, while snipping the thread after having completed the hem. "It will be ready before the first snow you spoke of arrives at the end of the week. But your new shirt is ready now!"

Admiring the garment as Alice proudly held it aloft for his inspection, Uncas smiled and nodded his head in approval.

"It's a good shirt. I like it! The fabric is heavy and will keep me warm this winter. And you even made it in my favorite color. Thank you!" he replied.

"I love the way you look in a dark green shirt. I always have." she said wistfully. "That is why I always make sure you have one of each in both calico and flannel, so I can enjoy seeing you in one no matter what the season."

"You worked hard to make this for me so quickly. I must reward you for your efforts." he added, his deep voice growing softer as he spoke the last part.

Leaning over in his rocker, Uncas met Alice halfway as she also leaned toward him. Placing his hand on the back of her head, he pulled her face toward his and joined their lips in a deeply passionate kiss. While their tongues danced and played within each other's mouth, Uncas' keen ears detected the sound of approaching voices. Knowing his private time with Alice was about to come to an end, he continued with the kiss, savoring each moment of it until a deep male voice could be heard coming from the direction of the maple tree near the path.

"They're at it again! We can't leave those two alone for five minutes without them ending up like this!"

"We'll have another baby in the house before long if they keep this up!" a female voice merrily chimed in.

With their kiss instantly brought to an end after they dissolved into soft laughter, Uncas and Alice pressed their foreheads together for a moment before turning to greet their family, who had returned from their fishing trip. Stepping into the clearing where the path to the lake exited the woods, a man and a woman walked side by side. He carrying a sizable catch of fish in one hand, and a musket in the other. She carrying a picnic basket, with a blanket draped over her arm and a cradleboard with a 2 week old infant girl bundled inside of it strapped to her back. Behind the couple, two small boys, ages 8 and 5, came into view, happily trotting along while carrying their own catches of fish. As soon as the two little boys spotted Uncas and Alice sitting on the porch however, they both broke into huge smiles and bolted towards the couple as fast as their legs could carry them.

"Grandma! Grandpa! Look what we caught!"

The year was 1799, and Uncas and Alice were now 64 and 60 years old respectively. After surviving the fight on the Promontory, they had also made it through the remainder of the French and Indian war, and the American Revolution which followed it, all of which they managed to be relatively undisturbed by while living on their peaceful little farm. Now, with the approaching New Year barely two months away, they would soon witness the arrival of a new century, which the two of them would welcome in with a kiss as they celebrated the event with their family.

And a large family it was, for over the years, Uncas and Alice were blessed with a total of five sons, who now ranged in age from 41 to 30, and all of whom were married to Delaware women. Through their sons, they were blessed even further with 17 grandchildren, and 3 great grandchildren.

Despite the fact that 42 years had passed since the day a young Mohican warrior made a shy English girl his bride, time had been kind to them both, and everyone who knew Uncas and Alice agreed they were as attractive a couple now as they were the day they wed. Still tall, strong, trim and muscular, Uncas was still a very handsome man. And even though his long thick black hair was now generously streaked with grey, he always turned the heads of the ladies whenever he went into town.

As for Alice, she maintained a great deal of her youthful appearance as well, even though some fine wrinkles could be seen around the corners of her eyes and mouth. Wrinkles that she attributed to all the smiling and laughing she had done over the years in a home that never lacked for either. And although indoors Alice's hair still looked to be the same honey blond that it was when she was 18, outdoors, grey highlights could clearly be seen throughout her long tresses.

As the two little boys ran up to the porch with their parents casually strolling along behind them, Uncas put aside his musket as Alice folded his new shirt and placed it in her sewing basket. Leaning back in their rockers, they waited for their family to join them on the porch.

Settling her eyes on the young man, Alice felt a surge of maternal love as she gazed at her youngest son. Tall and strong, with the same build his father had at that age, he also had the same long black hair and dark, caramel colored skin. But his eyes were a soft brown color, a combination of Uncas' dark onyx eyes, and her hazel ones. She loved this young man deeply, as she did all of her sons, but this one had always been her favorite. Perhaps it was because he favored his father so, not just in looks, but in his manner as well. Brave, noble, he was every bit the warrior Uncas was. And although Alice had been happy when her son had announced his intention to marry, she was even happier still when he also announced that he and his wife would stay here on the farm with them.

It wasn't that the rest of Alice and Uncas' family lived far away. On the contrary. All of their children, including their married grandchildren, lived a very short distance from them, as did Cora and Nathaniel, and their children and families. Visits to each other's homes occurred on an almost daily basis, and the roads and paths that led to the various houses were well worn from travel.

Bounding onto the front porch, the two little boys excitedly came to a halt in front of their grandparents, and proudly held aloft the fish they'd caught. Wearing calico shirts, loincloths, buckskin leggings and moccasins, their clothing was noticeably damp, as was their long black hair, and it was obvious some swimming had been done in addition to fishing.

"Look Grandpa! Look at all the fish I caught!" the older boy said, referring to the three lake trout he was holding.

"Those are fine fish! Good size! They'll feed us well." Uncas replied, giving each fish an official and thorough inspection of size and weight.

"Look at my fish, Grandpa! It's the first fish I ever caught, and I did it all by myself!" cried the youngest boy, who beamed with pride as he waited for his grandfather's approval.

Suppressing a laugh, Uncas looked at the tiny perch the boy was holding. Barely four inches long if that, the fish was a fraction of the size of the trout his brother had caught. Still, it was the first catch the 5 year old had ever made, and Uncas praised the child as though he had brought home a large salmon.

"You did good, little one! This is a very fine fish! Very fine indeed! Only a warrior can make such a catch by himself." Reaching out, Uncas tousled the small boy's hair before drawing both of his grandsons into his embrace. "I'm proud of you both. Your grandma and I will not go hungry thanks to the two of you."

"Don't worry, Grandpa! You and Grandma will never go hungry! Otter and I will always take care of you! You can count on it!" declared the older boy, referring to his little brother by the child's Mohican name.

"That's right! We will! Forever and ever!" the younger boy seconded. "Come on, Fox! Let's go climb the tree!"

Depositing their fish on the porch, both boys kissed and hugged their grandparents before darting off to play. Racing over to the maple tree, they scrambled up into the lower branches like two agile chipmunks, and began their favorite game of 'pirate ship', which they had made up based on bedtime stories Alice had told them. Nervously watching the boys as they maneuvered about the branches, pretending they were climbing on ships riggings, Alice called out for them to be careful and to not climb too high. But Uncas wasn't worried. He smiled as he watched his grandsons, knowing that the invisible hands of Chingachgook were keeping them safe, just as they had protected the young man now standing before him when he and his brothers had played in that same tree.

Picking up the fish the boys had left on the porch, Uncas and Alice's son, whose name was James, carried them with his own catch over to the side of the porch, and deposited the fish in a large basket until he could hang them in the smokehouse later. As he placed the fish in the basket, James eyed the remains of the deer carcass that hung in the tree beside the porch. Although the buck was young, it was still of good size, and he knew the only reason his father had not finished the butchering was because he had been tired after tracking the animal for some distance and lugging the carcass back by himself.

"I see you went hunting this morning. I thought I heard a shot when we were down by the lake." said James.

"Mm hmm. Saw fresh tracks near the woodpile. Knew it hadn't gone far. Could hear it in the woods. Tracked it over to your cousin John's apple orchard. Took it there." Uncas replied.

"You carry it back yourself?"

"Mm hmm. Wasn't far. Only a mile or so."

"More like three."

"Not through the woods. Shorter distance." replied Uncas, who knew where his son was going with this conversation. He and Alice had had a similar one not long ago.

"Not by much." James argued back.

From her seat, Alice quietly observed the discussion between her husband and son, glad that James was voicing a concern that she herself had had for some time now. Squatting down beside his father's chair, James placed his hand on Uncas' arm, and his voice was soft and gentle when he spoke.

"Dad, you don't have to do this anymore. You spent your whole life providing for your family, and we were never hungry. You always took good care of me. Now let me take care of you."

"I'm not so old that I can't still hunt." Uncas sullenly replied, his pride stinging from the implication of his son's words.

"I'm not saying you are. I'm just saying that I worry about you, going out there alone, tracking for miles and carrying heavy game back by yourself. What if something happened to you out there? I'd never forgive myself." said James, his eyes full of love and concern. "Let me do all of the hunting from now on. I'm more than capable of providing for my own family, including my parents."

Remembering a similar conversation he'd once had with Chingachgook, Uncas remained silent and glanced over at the maple tree his grandsons were now beginning to climb down from. Redirecting his gaze to the porch steps, he gave a deep sigh of resignation. Shifting slightly to try and relieve his aching shoulder and back, which always hurt lately after he'd carried a heavy load, he reluctantly had to admit to himself that, although still strong and physically fit, he was no longer able to do the things he did when he was a much younger man. No longer as fast or agile as he used to be, he knew with subdued resignation that his days of running like a bounding elk through the forest, and of carrying a deer carcass home by himself were behind him, as his aching shoulder and back could attest.

"Your old wounds are hurting you, aren't they?" James asked, as though reading Uncas' mind.

"Yep. How'd you know?"

"I can tell." his son replied with a warm smile. "I can always tell."

"I am glad that Aunt Cora made a fresh batch of liniment and dropped off several bottles of it when she and Uncle Nathaniel came to visit yesterday." said James's wife, Robin. "Once winter arrives, it will not be so easy for everyone to travel to and from each other's houses as often as we do now."

Taking a seat on the porch floor in front of her in-laws, Robin slipped the cradleboard off of her back and removed her tiny daughter from it. As she settled the baby in her arms, Fox and Otter came bounding up onto the porch again, the older boy climbing onto Uncas' lap, while the younger one climbed onto Alice's.

"Please listen to James, Dad." Robin pleaded. "Your other sons feel the same way we do. We all love you, and we worry about you doing too much. You've worked hard all these years to take care of your family. You built this home with your own two hands, along with much of the furnishings in it. You cleared the land, and kept everyone safe, warm and fed. You've earned the right to relax now, and enjoy your grandchildren and great-grandchildren. You have so much to teach them. Let your sons take care of the hunting and heavy work from now on."

Glancing at his family, Uncas could plainly see the loving concern on the faces of his son and daughter-in-law, with worry also showing in Alice's. Looking again to the maple tree, he could hear the words his father spoke the day the two of them had this very same conversation. 'You are right, my son. Just as the seasons change, so it is for a man. And it is a wise man who knows when it is time to step back, and let the next generation take the lead.' A smile then came to Uncas' handsome face, and he nodded his head as he looked at Fox, the grandson who bore his name, and saw the love and adoration that filled the child's eyes as he gazed up at his grandfather.

"Alright." Uncas conceded. "Perhaps it is time for me to step aside and let James and his brothers take over. But I am not so old that I can't still hunt!" he added with a raised finger and a firm look to his son. His face then softened into another smile. "I'll just leave the big game to you, while I hunt the smaller game. And don't worry about me being alone out there. I'll have lots of little helpers with me to bring home the rabbits and turkeys we catch. It's time for me to teach my grandchildren how to read signs, and how to track and hunt." he added, suddenly pulling his giggling grandson to his chest and tickling him, then placing a kiss on top of the boy's head.

And so it was on that autumn afternoon, that Uncas took on a new role in his life as teacher and mentor to his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. For many years still to come, he would take them into the forest, teaching them all the skills of a warrior that he'd learned from Chingachgook, until eventually his vision would begin to fade, and his fingers and joints would become too stiff to do so any longer. And every evening after supper, he would sit beside his beloved Alice, and tell his family the legends of a proud people called the Mohican. And he would also tell them the stories and adventures of three men, a father and his two sons, who once lived a solitary life together in the wilderness, hunting and trapping during the French and Indian War, until the day they met the daughters of a British colonel, on a wilderness trail called the George Road.

~The End~