A/N – still have enough interest in this story to continue a few chapters. Hope you enjoy. Review the story, not the grammar, thanks - ! just so you know, regarding the sign language, I am NOT using factual signs and symbol references.

Blah – thoughts / Blah – different language /

The British red coats had been travelling for hours amongst the ominous scenery of the wilderness. The late afternoon sun, coupled with the humidity further battered the already tired, worn down soldiers. The Munroe sisters lazily perched on their shared horse, staggered and yawned in unfamiliar exhaustion. Taking note of the damsels in mild distress, in his usual tone of authority Major Heyward called for Magua, only a few yards up in front. "You there, Scout! We must rest soon, the women are tired." Major Heyward believed he was doing the most chivalrous thing possible for a gentleman in his position. With his eyes set on the love Alice, a few favours of affection would do him well. But the Huron took little notice.

Magua replied sharply. "No, two leagues, better water. We stop there." That would be the ambush point. The redcoats, amongst the two grass of the clearing, would be like waiting ducks, for the Hurons readily hidden in the forest opposite. The excitement of battle twitched at his fingers.

Major Heyward decisively disagreed. "No, we'll stop in the glade just ahead. When the ladies are rested, we will proceed. Do you understand?" Heyward did not take kindly to the Huron scout challenging his orders.

And it seemed neither did the Huron, as he replied in his native tongue, "Magua understands that the white man is a dog to his women. When they are tired, he puts down his tomahawk to feed their laziness." He seemed unimpressed, shooting the Munroe sisters a fleeting glare of annoyance.

Quickly Major Heyward inquired "Excuse me, what did you say?" He was suspicious of the Huron scout. He always seemed to hold a hidden agenda. But with little proof, and even fewer resources, he could not afford to lose the valuable scout. He would just have to keep a closer eye on him.

Magua covered his tracks with casual ease. "Magua said... I understand English, very well". Momentarily relenting, the Huron slowed his pace, impatiently waiting as the red coats settled down for this refreshing rest. The tired men huffed and complained, whilst major Heyward and Mr. Gamut entertained the lovely sisters with religious hymns. All whilst Robin explored, dashing out into the bordering bushes, picking at the colourful leaves and flowers that were still in session. Without a care the child scavenged for whatever fancied her interest. Strange rocks, bits of bark and berries, she horded it all in her pockets, believing it would come in use for later. Perhaps she was touched in the head. Being able to find such simple amused in the trinkets of Mother Earth. So lost in her thoughts, she did not register the footsteps quietly creeping closer. Turning to head back to the main path, Robin found her-self confronted.

She gasped, suddenly stiff with tension, as before her stood Magua, leering down at her, blocking her path back. The Huron's thin bronze lips twitching as he sneered. "Alone again, Little Bird" Magua once more towered over her, his chest puffed out slightly in a display of power. Against Robin's better instincts, feeling confronted, she took a hasty step back, prompting Magua to advance in turn. A sudden spark of playfulness ignited in his otherwise cold black eyes. "If Le Renard Subtil didn't know any better…he think you were looking for trouble".

Robin shook her head in return, like a child cornered by a bully. Staring up at the large man, she could do little else but continue retreating, step by step, in an attempt create some distance. The thick forest obstructed them from view of the others. And Magua seemed to revel in the fact Rob would not call out, should anything happen. His slow growing grin further unsettled her, as it promised a wickedness only a warrior could stand. Impulsively she darted around the Huron, attempting to escape the fox's game before it was too late.

Grunting in disapproval, the Huron's large hands snared her wrists, pulling her back into the shadows of the forest cover. Dropping her scavenged flora pieces, Robin, briefly panicked, struggled against Magua's hold. It only seemed to further amuse him as he simply threw her against a nearby tree. Every time she regained her composure and attempted flee, he would simply push her back. This continued for a short time until finally Magua had enough of his fun. Pinning Rob to the tree with one single hand flat on her chest, Magua debated his next move. The boy was surprisingly amusing, to Magua at least. His songs seemed to keep the red coats in good spirits, mustering morale and otherwise lifting their wary woes. Magua was sure his own warriors would appreciate a chanting song bird of their own. Should the boy somehow survive the massacre that was yet to come, as a captive, he would be worth a fair price. As an entertainer, Magua deduced. The boy hardly seemed fit for hard labour. Months of standard Huron toil would break his back.

Such a waste. The sudden thought surprised Magua. Since when did he concern him-self with the wellbeing of a white dog? For all he cared they should be whipped and flogged as he was, poisoned by the fire water they gave him. Yet this boy before him, slowly but securely, was crawling under his skin. In the winds, he heard the boy's songs. In the waters and grass, he saw his eyes. Was he some sort of witch? Magua suddenly tensed. The tomahawk hidden in the sleeve of his stripped tunic became temptingly close. Did this boy bewitch his victims with his songs? Did he sell his voice to some demon or spirit, in return for tricks and witchery? Whilst pondering these thoughts, under Magua's thoughtful yet intense glare, Robin, having abandoned her struggles, stared back. With her doe like eyes, Robin took a chance to further detail the Huron scout. He was an exceedingly tall specimen, with healthy dark copper skin. His hair was in the strangest style she'd ever seen. A majority of it seemed to have been shaved, or rather plucked, clean with only a tuff of his black hair grown out at the crown. With the pony tail there were also braids and trinkets woven in with feathers and beads also featured. It was eccentric, in a way. She wouldn't immediately think he was handsome. He seemed far older than her, his face worn down with age and hardship. His jaw line was strong, and the plains of his face sharp. Definitely a distinguish warrior.

There was a tense silence between the two. Both were mentally sizing up the other. With Magua's hand pressed firmly against her chest, he felt the tension in the muscles begin to tighten, ready for a burst of movement. His dark eyes narrowed in warning, and quickly the pressure he held on her chest increased. It was then a suspiciously looked flashed across his expression. Leaning closer, Magua applied further pressure on Robin's chest, as if testing a thought. She clamped her small hands on his meaty wrist, once more struggling to relieve the pressure. Harshly he whispered, "Be still, child. Magua wants a closer look". He roughly palmed the area of her chest, hushing her swiftly with grunts when she protested. Robin was never more thankful she had bound her chest with extra wrapping. As he grasped at her otherwise flat appearing chest, Magua shot an glance of accusation, to which she rebuffed by looking away. Slowly Magua's free hand drifted to the knife at his belt. When Robin shrieked Magua pressed the blade to her lips threateningly, for silence.

There was a commotion back on the main path, momentarily distracting Magua from his intentions. Gazing back at the main path, through the cover of the trees and bushes, he spotted three strangers had joined the band, and now were coming towards the forest edge. Major Heyward soon called out, "Scout! Where is that Huron Scout?".

Disgruntled Magua suddenly flung him-self back, dashing into the darkness of the forest without so much as a sideways glance. Within a moment of his departure a shot ran out, narrowly missing Robin, who was tucked against the large trunk of the tree. A trio of large figures came rushing towards her. No red coats, or familiar faces. She at first expected the worst, until Gamut's voice follows behind them. Still gasping for air Rob once more was dwarfed by three towering men, clothed only in deer skin breeches, and linen shirts. Bunched against the trunk of the tree, Rob glared suspiciously at the men for a moment, waiting to see if they would attack, as she had first thought. However two of them remained more interested in their surroundings, with rifles poised for actions, while the eldest, a fatherly figure, gestured to Rob. In well spoken English he asked, "Are you hurt boy? Where did the Huron go?"

Rob at first shook her head, in regards to her wellbeing. She then pointed off towards the dark depths of forest, without a word, earning a curiously look from the elder of the trio. "The boy is mute" it was more a statement, than a question. And yet there was a degree of scepticism in his aged voice.

"Rob, these are Mohicans" Gamut began to explain, gesturing to the three men, one at a time, declaring their names with remarkable accuracy. "Chingachgook, Uncas and Hawkeye."

Rob looked at them individually with her large eyes. She noted the one named Hawkeye was clearing of white origins. And yet it did not surprise her. Already there were rumours circulating of white children being abducted and adopted by Indian tribes. And yet there was something even more interesting on his person. She gestured to a familiar hat, hanging from the back of his neck. Hawkeye blinked for a moment before unhooking the hat from around his neck and passing it to the youth before him. "Is this yours, my friend? I found it by the trail"

Robin, in a small act of annoyance, made a gesture familiar to Chingachgook. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he too gestured, using his hands to form a sort of sign language. "You know the language of fingers?"

Robin blinked, taken back at the Mohicans' recognition. Quickly she then replied, feverishly with gestures of her own. Gamut was affectionately surprised. "Rob, I never knew you knew sign language. Clever little imp. You must teach me as well"

"He says, his mother was deaf, and a fur trader, married to a native, taught him to help communicate with his mother, before she died"

Chingachgook smiled when Robin nodded, confirming the interpretation. The group returned to the main path, where Alice and Cora, guarded by Major Heyward and the column of British red coat soldiers, waited in anxious silence. Exasperated Cora beckoned to Mr. Gamut, awkwardly glancing at the Mohicans. "Major Heyward, what in heavens is going on?"

The singing teacher regretfully replied, "It seems we have been led astray by that Huron fiend".

"I knew there was something not quite right with him. There was evil in his eyes, sister. I knew it since the moment I saw him"

Alice anxiously inquired Major Heyward. "What are we to do now? Heavens knows where we truly are"

Pondering for a moment, Heyward deduced, "Keep moving for now. There might be a clearing up ahead. We rest for now and consider our options". The Major warily glanced at the Mohicans. "Will you guide us?" His voice was slow, but calm. They had already been betrayed once, could they trust these redskin devils again. Relief washed over him when Chingachgook, having exchanged a look of contemplation with his sons, finally nodded. "We should head for the caves. With one Huron loose in the forest, there will surely be more". With that they once more moved off, going off the original course, much to the chagrin of the Huron watching from a far.

Instead of the avoiding the Mohicans, like she had done with Magua, Robin slowly became fond of the Indian trio. And it seemed the feeling was mutual. Though she staggered to keep up with their fast set pace, they did little to deter her. Chingachgook even seemed to softly humour her, pointing at various trees and forging animals, even if she did not vocally respond.

In their native tongue Hawkeye and Uncas conversed, watching the pair walking ahead of them. Their wise father, and the strange white girl, disguised as a boy. The English surely must be blind, if their mistook the strange copper hair for a simple boy. "Father always wanted a daughter". Uncas smiled fondly at the thought, whilst Hawkeye shook his head. "Daughters are more troublesome than sons.". The two chuckled, though it seems their conversation was overhead, as the elder Mohican shouted back. "The pair of you cause me more than enough trouble. Stop wagging your tongues and scout ahead!". Caught in the act the brothers, Hawkeye and Uncas moved on, with Chingachgook shaking his head whilst Robin simply grinned, obviously amused.

Taking the opportunity, Chingachgook asked, once more gesturing with his fingers. "Where is your father, girl?". He was not surprised by Robin's shock. Cautiously she looked around, not sure how to respond. 'How did he know...These Indians, their eyes see more than any Englishmen'. Calmly the Mohican continued, "Do not fret, child. I had my suspicions. Men sign 'I' with their thumb alone. Women use both the thumb and small fifth, pointed to their breast." Robin realised her error and relented, nodding her head. If this Mohican noticed, then surely the others would have as well. Chingachgook continued, this time in low spoken English. "I also suspect…you can speak." He then looked at her expectantly.

Robin was silent for a moment, unsure of what to do. Cautiously, she glanced back; sure she was not within hearing distance of the British party. "Yes. I can speak. And yes, I am a girl". She almost looked ashamed, casting her gaze aside. Chingachgook quietly asked, "Why the secrecy, friend?" Robin's reply was simple as she looked off into the nearby forest surroundings. "Protection". She dismissively shrugged. "Out here, I thought it was safer to be a boy. But with my voice…" She trailed off for her new acquaintance to continue. He would nod in understanding. "Your voice would have betrayed your gender. I understand. But what of your family, your father? They allow this?". Chingachgook then saw the sadness in Robin's teal eyes. Softly, he deduced. "You have no family…" Robin once more nodded in silence. With that their conversation ended. The elder Mohican would nod pry for any more answers. Sometimes the dead were better left bury. He swore to withhold her secret, but cautiously warned, "All secrets must come to light. The longer left the darker the deed". With that he moved on, towards the rocky clearing that came into view. And it seemed just in time. In a few hours, the sun would set, and all creatures of the night would be out to hunt.

A/N – hoped you liked that. Review the story, not the grammar, remember, more reviews, more chapters !