*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Last of the Mohicans, or to the characters in the movie and book. I make no profit from their use in this story, which was written purely for fun.
For the Love of Apples
Boston, late October, 1745
It began under an apple tree.
It was a beautiful fall day, and young Alice Munro was enjoying the biggest adventure of her life so far. At the tender age of six, she had just arrived in the American colonies a few weeks earlier after traveling half way around the world with her family from their home in Scotland. For the next year, they would live in Boston in Massachusetts Colony, where her father, Major Edmund Munro, had been assigned to temporary duty with one of the King's Colonial regiments posted there. After a years' time, Alice and her family would return to their home outside of Edinburgh, where her father would enjoy a short leave before reporting to his next assignment.
The return trip was something Alice tried not to think about as her older sister Cora helped her into her woolen cape. For as much as she loved her homeland, Alice loved Boston even more. Everything about this new place was different. The buildings, the shops and markets, the people, the cobblestone streets. Even the air had a crisp, clean scent all its own. But it was the dense forest that surrounded this seaside community that truly fascinated her. While sailing along the coast to Boston, Alice had spent most of the journey standing at the rail of the ship, looking out at the seemingly endless wilderness that stretched as far as the eye could see in any direction, save the shoreline. And it seemed to the wondrous eyes of the little girl that the dense forest would have continued all the way to England, if the sea had not been there to stop it.
No. Alice would not think about leaving this wonderful place. Instead, she would enjoy every moment of her stay here. Each day would be a new adventure! And from the moment she had awoken that morning, she knew that this particular day would be very special! How, she didn't know. She just knew that somehow it would be.
Skipping along beside Cora as they accompanied their mother to the farmer's market not far from the cottage they were renting, Alice thought back to the previous night, when she had lain in bed beside her older sister as their father told them yet another story about the wild animals and savage red men who lived in the untamed wilderness of the colonial frontier. Knowing all too well the curious nature of his two daughters, particularly his youngest, Munro's intention was to frighten the girls just enough so they wouldn't go wandering off to explore the forest on their own. The wilderness was a dangerous place, and it bordered the home he and his family were staying in. The last thing he wanted was for a tragedy to befall his beloved daughters during their stay in the colonies.
While her mother and Cora stopped to peruse the produce on the first stand they came to after arriving at the farmer's market, a bored Alice slowly wandered over to the next booth to stare in wonder at an enormous pumpkin that was nearly as tall as she was. Wishing she could climb on top of it, her attention was soon caught by something even more marvelous.
An apple tree!
With a brilliant smile lighting up her pretty face, Alice darted over to the tree, which was heavily laden with its sumptuous fruit. If there was one food in this world that she loved most of all, it was apples! Noticing a particularly delectable looking one growing on a low hanging branch, Alice raised herself on tiptoe and tried to pick it, but was too short to even come close to reaching it. She then tried jumping up and down several times. Still no good. Determined, she looked around and spotted a wooden bucket lying beside a nearby cart. Fetching the bucket, she inverted it and climbed somewhat unsteadily on top of it.
Perfect! She still wasn't tall enough to reach the apple she wanted, but the bucket raised her high enough to grab hold of the branch and pull it down. When the prize she sought was finally within reach, Alice took hold of the apple with one hand while still hanging onto the branch with the other, but she could not wrest the apple from its stem. Letting go of the branch, she grabbed the stubborn fruit with both hands and tugged with all her might.
Finally, after a brief game of tug-of-war between her and the tree, the apple released. With nothing holding it down any longer, the now freed branch snapped back up into place, slapping Alice in the face in the process. Startled, she took a step back and stumbled off the bucket. As she was tumbling backwards, a pair of strong hands caught her under the arms, preventing her from falling to the ground. Regaining her balance while the hands continued to hold her steady, Alice turned around to see who her rescuer was. Expecting to see Cora or her mother standing there, she was surprised to find herself face to face with a boy. And an Indian boy at that!
"Careful, Miss. You almost fell over." he said to her, in a high-pitched voice befitting a boy of ten. Tall for his age, with long black hair, his build was slim, but not yet with the gangliness that would come in a few more years.
"Oh! Thank you….for saving me." Alice stammered in reply, surprised that the good looking native boy spoke perfect English. Granted, it was with a colonial accent.
"My pleasure, Miss."
"Alice!" cried a twelve year old Cora, as she ran to Alice's side while glancing with uncertainty at her sister's benefactor. "You mustn't wander off like that! Mama and I thought you had gotten lost!"
"Uncas! Come! We are leaving now!"
Turning toward the sound of a man's voice speaking in a language she did not understand, Alice saw a Native American man and woman standing a short distance away, with an older boy about Cora's age standing beside them holding the reins of a horse loaded with supplies. With a closed mouthed smile and a nod of his head, Alice's rescuer sprinted off to join his awaiting family, who were part of a slightly larger group of Indians who had come to Boston to trade for goods. As she watched the family depart, Alice could not take her eyes off the boy who saved her from falling. He was so handsome! Especially his eyes. Those dark, almond shaped eyes, the color of chocolate. They were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. She would never forget them.
Or him.
Albany, early August, 1757
A warm summer breeze drifted through the apple orchard on the Patroon's estate, and teased a loose strand of hair that tickled Alice's forehead. Lying on her back on a blanket under one of the trees, she lazily brushed the hair from her face, then returned her hand to its place under the back of her head, where it rejoined her other hand in acting as a pillow. With ankles crossed, she gazed at the branches overhead, her eyes focused on one of the multitude of apples that dotted the branches. They were nowhere near ready to be picked. But it mattered not, for Alice was not thinking about eating. She was thinking about a boy.
It had been twelve years since Alice's last visit to the colonies, and at age eighteen, she had grown into a beautiful young woman. Despite the time that had passed, she still could not forget the cute Indian boy who had saved her from falling after she picked an apple from a tree similar to this one. Much had changed in her life since that day. For one thing, she and Cora were traveling alone, their mother having died when Alice was eight, and their father, now a colonel, had arrived in the colonies with his new regiment the previous year. No doubt things had changed in the boy's life too, or so she imagined. For one thing, he would no longer be a boy. He would be a man now. A tall, strong, and handsome man. Of this she had no doubt, for how could someone like him have grown to be anything else? And he would be married with a family by now. How could someone as good looking as him not be?
The very thought of him being married caused Alice's stomach to sink, as a feeling of profound sadness and jealousy cut through her like a knife. Silly, she scolded herself! Why should she feel hurt that he would have made a life for himself among his own people? It was only natural he would do so. After all, what were the odds they would ever meet again? Slim to nothing at best. And even if by some miracle they did meet, he wouldn't be interested in her in the least. He probably wouldn't even remember her. But in the many dreams and fantasies Alice had had of him since that long ago day, he did remember her. And he wanted to be with her. Her warrior. For that is what she considered him to be to her.
In that instant, another thought occurred to Alice. One that filled her with a sense of dread. He would be a warrior now, and warriors fought in battle! What if he was…? No! The very thought was too painful to think about for even a second, and she instantly banished it from her mind. Her warrior was not dead! He was alive and well! She was sure of it.
He had to be.
As Alice's forlorn gaze drifted over the leaves and branches of the tree, it soon came to rest once again on that same apple, and she thought about her feelings for her warrior. She had only seen him that one time when she was a very small child, and for only a few short minutes no less. But something about him made him impossible to forget. It was almost as though she instinctively knew she would meet him again. She hoped she would, for she cared for him deeply. He was so gentle with her that day, so protective of her, even though he didn't know her. And he was polite and well mannered, nothing at all like the crude savages everyone described the Indians as being. There was a grace and elegance about him as well, and Alice would have loved to have shown him her homeland. But even now, as she did whenever she entertained that thought, Alice knew her warrior wouldn't have enjoyed visiting England and Scotland. This was his home. The wilderness of the Colonial American frontier. A land that he was a part of, and was a part of him. A land that Alice had yet to venture into.
But she would soon.
In fact, she and Cora would be setting out in the morning to visit their father at Fort William Henry, a remote British outpost that would require Alice and her sister to travel deep into the wilderness. Accompanying them would be their old friend, Major Duncan Heyward, along with a company of soldiers who were being assigned to the fort. The thought of the upcoming journey through the frontier forest, and the subsequent stay at the fort stirred Alice's blood with excitement. What an adventure!
Those were her exact words to Duncan when she joined the major and Cora earlier for tea in the garden near the orchard. She had even asked him if he had seen any red men anywhere about. His vague reply was that he'd seen a few. Encouraged by Duncan's reply, Alice had felt a tingle of excitement at the thought that she might chance to see her warrior again. Up until now she had felt discouraged, since she had not seen any Indians at all since she and Cora disembarked their ship in Boston harbor a week ago. Again, she chastised herself for being silly. There were many Indians from many different tribes living throughout the vast wilderness frontier. And she had no idea what tribe her warrior was from, or where his people made their home. Still, Alice was determined not to give up hope.
I will find you.
Somewhere on the frontier, September, 1757
It was a month to the day since the Munro sisters departed from the Patroon's house in Albany for Fort William Henry, and so much had happened in that short time. So much tragedy. So much horror. So much bloodshed and death.
Sitting in the lean-to, which had been constructed by her benefactors, Alice stared at the ground near her feet as a multitude of memories replayed themselves in her mind's eye. The first was the ambush on the George Road. It had happened mid-afternoon on the first day of the journey to the fort. She remembered she was tired, the price of a sleepless night caused by the anticipation of the adventure the morning would bring. She had known she would not sleep that night, and had told Duncan as much in the garden during tea. Not wanting to awaken her sister with her tossing and turning, a restless Alice had quietly slipped out of bed, and stood before the window. By the light of the moon, she stared into the nearby woods as the memory of the native boy once again filled her thoughts. Was he out there somewhere, she remembered thinking?
Shifting positions, Alice pulled her knees up to her chest. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she recalled how the excitement of riding among the soldiers marching through the forest had quickly become monotonous, and the heat and humidity nearly unbearable. Nearly lulled to sleep in the saddle by the rhythm of her horse's steady gait, Alice was jolted awake by the sound of a musket being fired in the rear of the column. All hell had broken lose after that, as a horde of half-naked, painted warriors came swarming out of the forest, hacking down the soldiers without mercy. When the slaughter was over, Alice had risen on shaky limbs to find that she, Cora and Duncan were the only survivors, save for one or two soldiers who were barely moving. Standing with them were three men.
At first glance, Alice had thought all three were Indians. But upon closer inspection, she discovered that only the oldest and youngest of the trio were red men. The third man was white, which she realized after he began speaking with Duncan. As the two conversed, Alice had watched curiously as the youngest man strode past where she and Cora were standing. To her horror, the young warrior slapped her and Cora's horses on the rear, chasing them away with a shout. Without thinking, Alice shouted herself at the young man to stop as she bolted after the fleeing animals in a desperate attempt to catch them. Before she had gotten too far, a pair of strong hands grabbed her arms and stopped her. Firmly held in place by those hands, Alice remembered how they held her steady as she'd regained her balance, and a smile came to her face as she then remembered how she had looked up at the warrior's face. But he wasn't just any warrior.
He was her warrior!
Without a single doubt Alice knew it was him. His eyes told her so. Those beautiful, almond shaped pools of dark chocolate. And in those eyes, she had seen a brief flicker of recognition. Had he remembered her too? Alice's answer came in the days that followed, as her warrior and his father and brother escorted her, her sister and Duncan to the fort. And it was on this journey that Alice finally discovered her warrior's name.
Uncas.
There hadn't been time for Alice to talk to Uncas very much during the long walk to the fort. A war party of Huron was following them, and it was imperative that they moved quickly and quietly. Once they were all inside the fort however, there was opportunity for Alice and Uncas to talk. Despite the fact that the fort was besieged by the French army of Montcalm, Alice had managed to find Uncas during a lull in the fighting that first night as he lounged in a quiet corner of the fort to rest. It became their special meeting place over the next three nights until the fort was finally surrendered. And during the time they spent together, Uncas revealed to her that he had indeed recognized her on the George Road, although admittedly he confessed it had taken him a few moments to recall where he had seen her before. He had said it was her eyes he remembered. Large brown eyes, like a doe, and her gently parted lips.
During those stolen moments at the fort, Alice and Uncas had shared their first kiss in their private little corner of the world. And it was behind a raging waterfall that they had made love for the first time while taking refuge from the Huron who had split off from the attack on the fort refugees to pursue them. It was the last moment of bliss that Alice would share with Uncas. It was not long after their interlude concluded that the Huron had found them, and she had gasped in fear as she'd watched her warrior leap through the falls with his father and brother, to better the odds of survival for the women. Alice had not wanted Uncas to go, and he had not wanted to leave her behind. But he had no choice. They both knew she would not have survived the jump through the falls, and Alice remembered the promise he made to her just before he left.
I will find you.
And find her he did. After Uncas left, Alice never expected to see him alive again. If the leap through the falls didn't kill him, surely the Huron would if he attempted to rescue her from them. That was why she could not believe her own eyes when she saw him battling his way toward her single handed through the war party stung out along the narrow rocky ledge on the Promontory. Even though the odds were against Uncas, it seemed for a brief moment to Alice that he would indeed rescue her as, one by one, Huron warriors were dropped by his hand. But then the one known as Magua stepped forward, and Alice almost could not bear to watch as her warrior was cut and stabbed repeatedly by the war leader's knife.
Sitting in the lean-to, Alice closed her eyes and covered them with her hands as she remembered the awful sight of Uncas bleeding profusely while leaning helpless and weak against Magua, who placed the blade of his knife against Uncas' throat. At that moment, the terrifying memory vanished at the sound of a low moan beside her. Turning toward the sound, Alice smiled as she gazed at her sleeping warrior.
Her Uncas.
His life had been saved by the arrival of Chingachgook and Nathaniel, who charged into the midst of the Huron like two raging bears. By the time it was over, Magua was dead, as well as most of his men. The few who remained wisely saw they could not win and fled. After the battle was over, a new fight began to save Uncas' life. Once Cora had treated his wounds, a litter was constructed and Uncas was carried a safe distance away from the Huron. Stopping in a meadow containing the dilapidated remains of a long abandoned cabin, a lean-to was put together and that was where Alice sat now.
As her loving gaze lingered on her warrior's sleeping face, Alice brushed a few stray hairs off Uncas' forehead, and smiled as he gave a contented sigh at her tender touch. With a sigh of her own, Alice redirected her attention to a clump of trees growing a short distance away near the ruins of the cabin. They were apple trees. Whoever had lived here had planted a small orchard, and the trees were now growing wild. Knowing as soon as Uncas was strong enough that they would be leaving for Can-tuck-ee to winter with the Delaware, Alice decided to check the apples to see if they would be ready to be picked for the trip. They seemed to be coloring up nicely. Perhaps they were an early variety that was ripe enough to be picked now! Then she could procure a tasty snack for her and Uncas!
Rising as quietly as possible, Alice left the lean-to and went over to the little orchard. Standing before the tree that appeared to have the ripest fruit, she stood with her hands on her hips as she looked up at the laden branches. Always she was too short to reach! With nothing to stand on this time, Alice began to jump up and down several times in a vain attempt to grab hold of a branch. Each time, however, her fingers would merely graze the branches, never able to gain a firm grip. Finally, on her fourth attempt, Alice stumbled as she landed and started to fall backwards. As she did, a pair of strong hands grabbed her under the arms, and steadied her before she could fall. Startled, Alice turned around, and was surprised to find Uncas standing behind her, just as he had that long ago day back in Boston.
"Careful. You almost fell over." he said, in his deep baritone voice.
Leaning forward, Uncas captured Alice's lips in a kiss. Carefully, so as not to press on his healing wounds, Alice slipped her arms around his waist and returned the kiss. When their lips finally separated, they stood for a moment with their foreheads pressed together. After a moment, Alice spoke softly as Uncas gently rubbed his nose against hers, his breath whispering on her face.
"Thank you...for saving me."
"My pleasure, Miss."
~The End~
