When Alice and Uncas arrived back at the house, everyone was gathered in the sitting room. Marianne and Cora were knitting, while the men were indulging in a game of cards. "You're back! How was supper?" Marianne shrilled gaily when the couple joined them. Uncas answered, his voice laced with sardonic amusement, "Wonderful." "Alice?" Cora inquired anxiously, searching her sister's face. "Brilliant." Alice supplied dryly.
Nathaniel grinned broadly, guessing that the couple somehow made it through. He strode over to Uncas and clapped his brother's shoulder heartily, "Whisky?" Uncas elbowed Nathaniel's ribs playfully and they headed over to the sideboard to grab glasses. Alice demured, " I'll be in the garden for a bit." She never got tired of the brotherly affection between the two good-looking men. Marianne tossed a shawl over Alice's shoulders with a motherly smile, "Don't catch a cold, dear."
Alice settled on the stone bench in the garden and inhaled deeply - the air here wasn't as crisp and fragrant as that in the forest. She recalled what happened at the inn and strangely, she didn't feel all that wretched about it. How could I have changed so much in mere weeks? She hadn't been in America for more than two months. Distantly, she remembered how she had locked herself in the powder room once when she had overheard ladies gossiping about her at a ball in London.
She just had derogatory insults hurled at her just minutes ago and she hadn't been frightened one bit. Angry, yes. But not scared or shaken. Where did her newfound courage come from? Uncas regarding her in that unflinching manner of his as she wielded the knife in her hand. He had not swooped to her rescue - he trusted in her ability to fend for herself. If she needed him, he was there. Even if she didn't, he stayed there to rally her to become braver, stronger. He was as beautiful inside as he was outside.
"We leave Albany in two days." Chingachcook's gravelly voice startled Alice out of her reverie. The austere Indian stood beside her, looking up at the sky. Alice quickly got to her feet, "Yes. Uncas told me. We are heading for the Delaware camp, are we not?" Chingachcook turned to look at the blond girl that held his younger son's heart captive, "What is my son to you?"
Alice nearly fell over at Chingachcook's brutally honest question. She dared to peek at his face and found out he was not looking at her in disapproval or dislike. He was simply searching for answers and the truth. Alice opened her mouth to answer but discovered she had no worthy enough words for the elder. "He saved me. And I am grateful. And -" Alice hedged, her voice trailing off miserably, knowing that it was a shabby response. Apparently, Chingachcook thought the same because he eyed Alice with a silver of disappointment and swivelled away from her.
"I had no qualms following him to death before. I would do it again. " Alice blurted out shakily. Chingachcook halted in mid-step but didn't turn around. She resumed pleadingly, "Please. I'm sorry. I can't explain but he means much more. So much more -" Alice bit her lip hard to stop the tremors in her voice.
Chincachgook sighed in resignation. She was so young though eighteen summers wasn't exactly considered young by both Indian and the white man's standards. She must have been so sheltered to have grown up in this manner. He knew many white women who were already wives and mothers running a household at the same age.
They were leaving for the Delaware camp and once there, Uncas would be the centre of a match-making mission. He could imagine all the mothers throwing daughters of marriagable age in Uncas' direction. His son was a respected warrior and was also known as a shrewd trader. Thus, all the calculative mothers knew their daughters would not go hungry or live uncomfortably if they were to marry him.
Uncas was also moderately influenced by white ways, something he inherited from his sire because Chingachcok believed that there was nothing wrong or shameful to learn the good and useful things from other worlds as long they did not lose their roots in the process.
He headed back to Alice, who looked so devastated that it nearly wrung a smile from him. All he had asked was what she thought of his son - he did not expect vows of undying love at this stage. But he could see the poor girl that taken the question very seriously and because she had, Chingachcook felt a little more validated.
He pressed a parchment in her hand and stated shortly, "Uncas' favourite poem." Alice eyed the parchment in dazed bewilderment. Uncas had a favourite poem? She herself didn't even have a favourite poem. "You may not know what my son is to you yet. But he knows what you are to him." To Alice's further amazement, Chingachcook patted her hand kindly before he returned to the house.
Alice lowered her eyes to the parchment:
O, no, poor suff'ring Heart, no Change endeavour,
Choose to sustain the smart, rather than leave her;
My ravish'd eyes behold such charms about her,
I can die with her, but not live without her:
One tender Sigh of hers to see me languish,
Will more than pay the price of my past anguish:
Beware, O cruel Fair, how you smile on me,
'Twas a kind look of yours that has undone me.
Love has in store for me one happy minute,
And She will end my pain who did begin it;
Then no day void of bliss, or pleasure leaving,
Ages shall slide away without perceiving:
Cupid shall guard the door the more to please us,
And keep out Time and Death, when they would seize us:
Time and Death shall depart, and say in flying,
Love has found out a way to live, by dying.
- One Happy Moment, John Dryden
Hot tears began to fall from Alice's eyes onto the parchment and she quickly rolled it up so it wouldn't be stained. Oh God...she didn't deserve this man. She didn't deserve him one bit.
The words of the poem continued to haunt Alice as she prepared for the journey to the Delaware camp. The intense passion and abandonment of the poem was so unlike Uncas' steely disposition but yet so much like him in a myriad ways. She found she couldn't look at him in the eye without blushing or feeling bereft. She knew Uncas found her attitude a little puzzling but since she wasn't sad or angry or ignoring him, he let her be.
It was time to leave. Marianne hugged both girls and chirped that they could stay with her anytime. She had also generously gifted them with a few more gowns each. Besides, the camp was only a day away. Visiting Albany would prove very easy. The group started their trek through the forest and Alice realised she actually missed the lush surrounds and clean, sweet air.
Uncas stayed by Alice's side, watching indulgently as she unbridledly admired the nature that enveloped her. "Why is your family spending autumn and winter at the camp?" Alice asked him conversationally as they picked their way through swaying ferns. Uncas balked for a second. Should I tell her that I am suppose to find a wife? He didn't plan to but he was aware that it would look that way the minute they reached the camp whether he liked it or not.
He hated lying to her so he decided to tell her the truth, "My father wants me to find a woman and settle down by the end of winter." Alice pulled up short and uttered in a tiny voice, "I see." "Do you?" he replied cryptically. "What do you want?" she returned in an indifferent tone. I want you. Uncas' confessed longingly in the reccesses of his mind and heart. But her question hung in the air between like a challenge.
Uncas eyed her suspiciously and was suddenly irritated by her composure. He shrugged carelessly, "Don't know."
Alice's heart had dropped to her toes when he announced his intention for heading to the camp. It had taken superhuman effort to answer him without faltering. Now she understood why Chingachcook had that conversation with her. She and Uncas couldn't carry on what they had being doing at the Delaware camp. It was a rude awakening and it forced them - her - to face the harsh reality that they had many things unsettled between them. Chingachcook had given a clue of Uncas' feelings for her but...
She certainly had not thought of marrying him and she could safely say that he had not either. They had been letting their emotions lead them so far and never once had Uncas asked Alice whether she wanted to stay in America or return to England. I'm here. His voice had whispered with promise. You're here. Alice had readily acknowledged. But where did they stand together?
Thanks to their brief but tension-filled exchange, Uncas admitted grudgingly to himself that they needed some kind of mutual commitment to substantiate their relationship. For the first time, he rued their close shave with death at the cliff. It had upturned the order of their relationship as a man and woman. Even before they had gotten to know each other properly, they had cemented the fact that they were willing to die for each other. They were irrevocably tied together by fate yet in many ways, they were still strangers.
They couldn't imagine living without each other when faced with death... but could they live together and with each other when faced with the obstacle-ridden reality of life? Could they be together despite all odds? Did they truly want to be together? How badly did they want to stay together?
Uncas growled in helpless frustration and hoped fervently that time would tell them... soon.
Author's Note:
There are split opinions on the true meaning of the poem, with the majority believing the words have underlying sexually explicit references - which is probably true to a certain extent. But I have decided conveniently to take it at face value with a purist view. I think the poem reflects Uncas' feelings perfectly during that last scene at the cliff in the movie and when Alice jumped, she manifested the last three lines of the poem with sober power. Not too much of Alice/Uncas in this chapter but hopefully, it's still a meaningful read. Enjoy:)
