It was shortly after noon. For over five hours, the small party had made their way through the wide trail in the wooded country. Their scout, Magua, was a fierce-looking Huron who made both Alice and Cora gasp when they sighted him through the window of their lodgings.
"Surely Father didn't want us to follow this savage?" Cora had asked the English emissary in horror.
The red-haired Major Duncan Heyward gave a weak smile as an apology. "Don't fear, madam," he said, "I shall accompany you as well as my men. It is simply that these red-faced guides do know the terrain better than we do. But if Colonel Munore puts his faith in this savage, particularly as it relates to his beautiful daughters, I do assure you that he knows what he is about."
If he expected Cora to blush at his compliment, he was sorely disappointed. She merely huffed in agreement and shouldered past him to the waiting horses.
Throughout the journey Alice could feel the irritation smoldering in her older sister's tightly coiled frame. She knew Cora was beginning to wonder whether coming to the New World was a mistake. Everything was so very different, and so very out of Cora's control. That gave Alice a small self-satisfied smile. Things had been out of Alice's control ever since she could remember.
The two sat in a carriage beside Duncan, while the rest of the group took the lead. Everyone had been nearly silent for almost the entire journey, as if the heat and the vastness of the land had robbed them of the power of speech.
But, as though on cue, the whole world seemed to explode into a cacophony of violence. It took Alice nearly a full minute to understand what was going on, to understand the blood and gunshots and shouting as it unfolded before her eyes. It was not until she was thrown from the carriage as the horses bolted and brayed that she suddenly came to grips with the current reality. She fell into the forest's undergrowth on her belly, the impact knocking the wind out of her for what seemed like an eternity. She lay cheek-first on the dead leaves, suffocating from the inside out, as the gunshots seem to become quieter and further away. Is this really how I shall pass? The girl wondered. After all my imaginings, is it here I will die in this foreign land?
"Get up, Alice!" hissed an angry voice in her ear, as her older sister roughly pulled her to her feet. "It's over. We've been attacked by Indians and nearly killed!"
Her voice was shrill. Alice blinked away her confusion, looking at the now quiet forest in wonderment. It was as if she was in a fairy tale. Then she saw the bloodied corpses on the leaves in the distance and she understood: This was no enchantment. This was real.
Her knees nearly buckled, but a strong hand tucked under her elbow kept her afoot. "Careful, Miss Munroe," scolded Major Heyward. "We have been besieged by savages. You ought to sit down and rest while I ascertain our next move."
"I told you we ought not trust a red face!" hissed Cora, nearly pummeling the red-coat on his chest with her fist. "I told you this was dangerous! My father never would have agreed to such an arrangement! You must have misunderstood, you fool!"
Normally, Alice would blush for her sister's impoliteness, but suddenly she realized they were not alone. More figures came out from behind the trees and for a second, Alice thought she might scream. But then she saw a white man, hailing to Duncan with a hearty sound. Reinforcements already, she thought. Papa thought of everything.
Suddenly feeling weak and bruised and strangely disappointed, she sank onto the ground. Cora and Duncan walked eagerly towards their saviors. Just as she was about to close her eyes, she felt something moving beside her. She looked up slowly and saw a tall, broadly built Indian standing before her. He was carrying a bloody tomahawk and breathing heavily. Alice knew she should cry out for help, but something about his presence brought comfort, not fear. His hair was long and so black it was almost blue, and his eyes were the darkest she had ever seen. She continued to stare at him impudently, unaware of how much time had passed before she finally caught herself and realized he was speaking to her—in perfect English no less.
"I said, are you alright, lady?" he asked again, his voice not impatient despite the fact that he obviously had been asking her for a while.
Alice blushed. Then, with a jolt, everything that just happened seemed to sink in. She gasped, and stood up forcefully, stumbling over her long rose-pink dress as a result.
The Indian caught her with one smooth motion. Holding her shoulders firmly, he waited till she stilled.
"It's over now," he said, "Are you hurt?"
"Not…not….I think I am fine, sir," she finally murmured, though she absent-mindedly stroked her sore ribs without thinking.
He looked down with concern in his kind eyes, but before he could say anything, a rough voice called out from behind him.
"Uncas!" yelled the white man. "Come over here and help me find what supplies we can. We must move now."
Cora sprang up beside Alice, her hazel eyes shining with what appeared to be excitement. "Can you believe it, sister? A white man traveling with savages," she whispered. "Think of what would have happened to us if they hadn't been passing by! We could have been scalped or… ravaged… or worse!"
Alice's stomach churned slightly. The thought of Cora's last supposition made her nearly ill. Some things are worse than death, she knew. As her eyes clouded with the familiar darkness, she felt someone looking at her, and was surprised to see the Indian's eyes again on her face. She should have been shocked by his boldness, but the expression was not unkind or appraising. She could not make heads or tails of it. Then, he turned quickly and continued to rifle through the dead redcoat's bags, giving no heed to the white man who was arguing vehemently with Duncan. Near the horses, she then noticed an older Indian, who was watching the whole thing with distrust in his eyes. In fact, he seemed almost enraged with the lot of them.
"What's happening?" Alice asked, the question taking both her and Cora by surprise, as it belied her usual incurious nature.
"The white man and the two Indians saved our lives," said Cora, "We were besieged by the Hurons. Our guide was truly no friend of our Father's, I can't imagine why anyone would trust such a fierce looking savage. I certainly did not. We never would have gone with him if I had my way."
"But what's happening now?" asked Alice in exasperation with Cora's superior tone.
"Oh," said Cora, taken aback slightly by her normally calm sister's tone. "Duncan wants us to return back to town. But the white man—Nathaniel—says that the Huron will be coming back to us in greater numbers. Even now they are preparing for battle, he says. Nathaniel says we must go deeper into the wilderness and that our only hope of safety is reaching Father and his men."
Alice shuddered at the notion. "And the two Indians?"
"His brother and father," explained Cora.
Alice's mouth dropped open.
"Adopted," Cora said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Can you imagine being raised by red faces away from your own people?"
"The father looks angry," noted Alice.
"Hmm?" Cora seemed disinterested. "Heed him and the other Indian not. I trust this white man, and I feel certain his 'kin' will do as he says, if only for the handsome reward that will certainly be given to them upon our safe arrival to Fort Campbell."
Duncan walked back to the waiting women with anger still suffusing his already ruddy skin. "The nerve of these people!" he cursed. "Telling me how to mind my own affairs! As if I haven't served in the King' army for nigh on six years!"
"We shall do as he says," said Cora flatly. "You are the one who got us into this mess. He shall get us out."
With that, Cora flounced away from the Major and over to where Nathaniel now stood expectantly, his masculine stance radiating near palpable desire for her older sister. Duncan hissed in rage.
"Your sister is a…excitable woman," he said to Alice, his voice trembling.
"And beautiful too, is she not?" asked Alice in amusement, clearly seeing that Duncan's rage was in part derived from jealousy.
"You are her equal in every way," said Duncan, with renewed vigor as he looked down at the maiden. "If she is the sun, then you are the moon."
"I guess that makes you Uranus," said Alice, feeling wonderfully mirthful.
She left Duncan spluttering in confusion, unaware of the younger Indian who was laughing silently nearby. Nor was she concerned with whether her behavior was unladylike. For now, she had a reprieve from facing civilization once again. And that made her in a good humor indeed.