He ran through the forest, the air close around him as the sun, red and setting, gave its warm light from behind a thin cloud. His feet were light and his footing certain as he covered the moss laden ground at speed. His dark eyes ever alert scanning all about him for a faint movement or rustle. His breathing was hard but controlled and his right hand gripped a musket.

A film of sweat covered his tanned skin and he absently brushed strands of his long black hair from his face. Up ahead he saw another man running, and increased his speed to meet him. Through the undergrowth he burst and then they were running together, keeping pace with each others strides, neither looked at the other but kept his eyes fixedly on their surroundings. Suddenly the other man halted, and his hand flew up in a silent sign to stop. Uncas stopped as quietly next to his brother and his eyes searched for the point his brother motioned to.

Then, he saw it, up ahead, a flash of tan.

His brother brought his own musket to his shoulder and aimed. The crack echoed through the forest and a deer, startled by the noise rose into the air then fell dead to the ground.

Before either could advance a rustling behind them made them both turn, Uncas' hand instinctively flew to his belt were his tomahawk rested, but just as quickly he relaxed as his father emerged from the woods carrying two dead rabbits.

Together, the three men advanced upon the dead deer.

All three sat on their haunches around it and Uncas looked at his father as the older man began to speak to the deer in his mother tongue, 'We're sorry to kill you, Brother. Forgive us. I do honour to your courage and speed, your strength."

All three men raised their hands softly to their brows as a sign of respect.

A few hours later, night had closed in and the three men walked together silently, Uncas holding the reins of their horse that carried their hunting spoils of the day. Through the darkness he could make out a warm glow of orange light coming from a small window.

As they drew nearer and passed the fence leading up to the wooden cabin the door swung open and a man stood in the half light cast from inside, a musket in his hand. Uncas' father hailed him, "Halloo! John Cameron!"

The man's musket dropped and a smile spread across his features. Turning his head back into the house he shouted, "Alexandria! Set three more places." Then he faced them again and addressed Uncas' father "How is Chingachgook, then?"

Suddenly a small boy burst from the doorway and ran towards them laughing joyfully at the sight of them. Uncas caught him up into his arms and swung him onto his shoulder, the child's laughter increased at this and Uncas carried him towards the porch. Chingachgook smiled, "The Master of Life is good. Another year passes. How is it with you, John?"

"Gettin' along. Yes, it is."

As they stepped up onto the porch another man appeared and smiled at them saying each of their names in greeting.

"Hello Jack", Chingachgook said smiling.

John shook hands with each of them warmly and welcomed them inside his home.

The cabin was small, one room contained everything, the kitchen, living area, dining area, and bedroom, but it was friendly and the fire burned brightly in its place. John's wife Alexandria had just finished setting the extra places and beamed at them as they entered, gesturing for them to take their places at the table.

Hot stew was served and eaten as they laughed and told each other of their recent pasts. After they had finished and all their bellies were full Chingachgook lit his pipe.

Alexandria rose from the table and collected the plates; as she took the last one from Uncas she addressed Chingachgook. "If Uncas is with you, that means he has not found a woman and started a family yet."

Chingachgook smiled and Uncas grinned at her.

She then turned to Uncas' brother, "and youNathaniel?"

Nathaniel smiled up at her and shook his head. "No Indian women will have me and no white women either." He laughed heartily. The rest of them laughed with him.

"Aye, we'll find you someone," she said and grinned at him.

Uncas smiled, but thought how it must labour his brother's heart to not be Mohican. Nathaniel had been just a child when his English family had been murdered by a war party. Chingachgook had found him with some French fur traders and decided to raise the child as his own.

Nathaniel looked at Jack. "So what is it, Jack? What brings you up here?"

Jack took a sip from his mug, wiped his mouth with his hand and said "A French and Indian army out of Fort Carillon's heading south to war against the English. I'm here to raise this county's militia to aid the British defence."

Nathaniel raised his brow. "Folks here goin' to join in that fight?"

"Might, we'll see in the mornin'," Jack paused, "Where you headin'?" he gestured towards the three men with his mug.

"Trap over the fall and winter among the Delawares in Can-tuck-ee." Nathaniel replied.

"So I can find a woman and make Mohican children so our father will leave my brother and me in peace," Uncas said with humour plain in his voice. A laugh rose from the table.

Chingachgook smiled at his son, but a serious glint stayed in his eyes. Uncas knew his father was uneasy on the subject and he would have to find a woman soon to bring peace to his father's heart, he was the last of the Mohicans and the burden fell upon him to carry on the line.

The small boy, James, crawled his way onto Uncas' lap. "A son like me?" James asked gleefully.

Uncas laughed and picked the boy up, suspending him upside down, the boy giggled. "No. You are too strong. Turn me old too fast!" Uncas grinned and passed the wriggling boy to Nathaniel.

"That's what he's doing to his mama" Alexandria said, smiling with affection.

The next morning all the people from the surrounding area collected in the middle of the small town to hear what the recruiting officers had to say.

Nathaniel and Uncas stood at the front listening intently as the man in a British uniform sitting high and mighty upon his horse tried to convince the people to join their efforts, to go to war and fight.

Finally Nathaniel could bear it no longer and spoke out. "And while they are cooped up in your fort, what if the French send war parties to raid their homes?"

Uncas resting his hands on his musket butt nodded, "These people have families here, families that are at risk if they fight"

The officer looked down on them, contempt clear on his face. A muffled sound of agreement came from the men listening.

"This is for your own homes, for king, for country, that's why you men ought to join this fight!" the officer said with false passion.

"You do what you want with your own scalp. Do not be tellin' us what to do with ours." Nathaniel said bitterly.

The officer turned a dark shade of red. "You, sir! You call yourself a loyal subject?" he spat angrily.

"No... Do not call myself much of a subject at all." Nathaniel said with humour.

Uncas lowered his head and laughed, his brother always had been out spoken to the point of nearly always ending himself in trouble.

John spoke up, "I am stayin' on my farm. And any man who goes, his family is welcome to fort-up with us 'til he comes back." Murmurs of agreement and thanks greeted him in response.

Finally tiring of the conversation and feeling he had had his say, Nathaniel nudged Uncas playfully in the ribs and motioned with his eyes to where a game of Lacrosse was being played. Uncas smiled at his brother and followed him over to the game.