They were on the move before it was daylight, sharing a small canteen of water and dried deer meat as they traveled. Alice had no appetite and only pretended to partake of the supplies when they were passed to her. She felt more in control this morning, and not as desperate and bleak as she felt the night before, but shame still ran through her. She could not meet Uncas's eyes and her hands shook when she thought of what he must think of her, how lowly he must think of her for behaving like a common strumpet.
As if sensing her mood, Uncas stayed a distance away from her, but even so, he ceaselessly watched her. He saw that she ate and drank nothing, and though it made him curse under his breath in Mohican, he said nothing to the others. He knew the last thing his mouse needed was a lecture from her domineering sister. His mouse? He caught himself on the phrase with shock. He couldn't believe how he was thinking of this English girl. He saw with his own eyes that Nathaniel and Cora were forming their own romance, but he knew instinctively it was different for them. His brother was a white man and could court one of their kind without much censure, but no such reality was possible for Uncas and he knew it. Besides, he reasoned, the girl was clearly troubled beyond measure. She seemed in fact to hate him this morning.
So no, he thought, she was not his, not his at all…and yet, his eyes and heart stayed trained on her, his body flooding with pain whenever he saw a cloud of unhappiness pass her face. What was she thinking that was causing her so much grief? What had he done to her last night? He remembered how frightened she felt in his arms when he first threw himself on top of her, how she seemed to almost lose her mind in terror. What a way for him to behave. She probably thought she was about to be raped by a redman. He flushed at the thought. Of course, she didn't rub her body against him. She was senseless with fright. He desperately wanted to ask his father to tell him more about English girls, to explain to him why they were a breed apart and how one was supposed to talk to them. But he knew such a conversation would give him away, indeed he suspected that his father already could sense that his youngest son was awestruck with the 'Silver One' as Chingachgook had taken to calling her.
As the group headed onwards, once again, the pattern of the previous day came to pass. Nathaniel, Cora, and Duncan led the way, with Chingachgook not far behind. Alice struggled desperately, falling behind farther and farther with each passing yard. Uncas fell even further behind, following her but not desiring her to feel hurried or infantilized.
Finally, when the midday heat was at its worst, Alice began to falter to such a degree that Uncas feared for her immediate safety. She seemed in a daze, and he remembered that she had not eaten or drank since the paltry serving of deer jerky she ate the night before. With the sun so high and hot, and her clothes so heavy and impractical for the weather, he believed she could be suffering from heatstroke. Instantly, he cursed himself for being so stupid about allowing her to go without water, and for encouraging the growing distance between them in order to give her the sense of freedom he believed she desired.
Muttering under his breath, he moved at a breakneck pace to catch up with her, which was simple for him as she had slowed nearly to stopping. As he got closer, he could tell that she was not just physically exhausted, but mentally as well. When she looked past him with dazed gray eyes that seemed to neither recognize nor be aware of him, he knew for certain it was heatstroke.
He let out a whistle to the leading group, and heard its answering reply within the moment. He knew they would go on ahead, rather than halting their pace for the weak girl. He wondered briefly that Cora would be so trusting of a total stranger with her sister, but at the moment, he had bigger issues to face.
"Please," he said, in quiet tones to the confused girl who was now walking onwards in dizzy, circuitous steps, "Please stop now and rest. We will rest a while and have some water, yes?"
She kept walking past him, murmuring so quietly he could not hear. He followed behind her, afraid if he touched her it would only further harm her mental state. He handed her the buckskin of water, willing her to take it from his hands. She looked at it as if he was handing her a dead snake.
"I really can't stay and chat," she said, her accent thick and formal, "I told Cora I would be home for tea. Besides, I am not supposed to be talking to you."
"Please, Alice, it's me, Uncas," he said, being so bold as to use her first name, hoping it would bring her back to earth. "You're here with me in the mountains. We are going to find your Father. Do you remember me?"
"Oh, Father," she laughed gaily. "He would scream red-faced if he knew you were here. The whole town is aghast at your scandalous reputation. I won't be turned by your compliments, young lass though I am."
Uncas continued beside her desperately, gently reminding her where she was and who he was, but on every occasion she rebuffed him with strange remarks. When her eyes glassed over and she began quoting poetry, his heart sank. What had he done? Why had he allowed the foolish child to not drink water? How could he stop her and make her listen to reason?
At a loss, he finally grabbed the young woman's hand. It felt as though it were on fire. She whirled to face him and he feared his decision had further harmed her, but instead she just seemed confused.
"My head aches," she said, "My head aches and aches and it's a horrid room and everything is filthy and I am filthy there's bugs all over all over and he is tearing me apart –"
He released her hand and instead pulled her close to him, hoping his own cool skin would be a respite for her burning flesh. Aching with pain for her, he spoke the only words he knew how to in that moment, his own people's words. He told her it was alright, that she was safe, that he would protect her, that she wasn't filthy, but precious and beautiful and as clean and silver as the moonlight. He knew she did not understand the words, could not possibly understand his native tongue, but his words seemed to work a spell on her as they had before.
And when he held out the water to her and said, "Drink, little mouse," her eyes unclouded for the first time in the past hour.
"Yes, Uncas," she said, and he heaved a sigh of relief as she drank and drank and drank. Finally, he stopped her for fear she would overdo it. While he was glad she drank the water, he knew the next step would be difficult.
"Miss," he said, easing her down to the forest floor with one arm, "You have heatstroke. Do you understand?"
"Is that why I feel so poor? I think I am going to be ill," she said desperately holding her stomach. "And my head, it's pounding."
"It's the heat," he said, "You must take some of your clothes off, do you understand?"
She only moaned again and closed her eyes. "I am so tired, and it is so loud and bright. Let me sleep, Cora."
Finally, Uncas knew this could not continue. As she sagged against a tree, he began to undo her complicated dress, his large callused fingers fumbling with the buttons. Cursing under his breath, he raged at the impracticality of English fashion. What sensible woman would dress in this manner? As he pulled over her heavy gown, Alice seemed completely unaware of her surroundings, no longer muttering nonsense but staring into space. Uncas did not know which was more troubling, her mad ramblings or her surrender into this catatonic state. As he continued to undress her, his black eyes flashed with rage when he got down to her corset. No wonder the poor girl was so weak and in pain! He didn't know a warrior who could have walked even half the distance she did while being suffocated in such a manner. Not caring if he damaged it, he undid it as quickly as he could, and he could hear the small sigh of Alice made when it was finally untied.
She was down to nothing more than her thin shift, and Uncas dared not undress her further. Even as it was, he could almost make out her nubile body underneath, as the sweat made the white fabric hang suggestively off her body. Still, he knew this was not enough. Giving up all thoughts of propriety and realizing she would never forgive him for this, and that verily he could be charged with a crime when he met up with the redcoats again, he lifted her hot limp body into his arms. Knowing the terrain very well, he carried her a short distance to the water which he was glad was nearby. His people called it Elk Lake and he was never more glad to see its cold life-giving shores.
Without ceremony, he sat Alice down carefully and then he peeled off his shirt and pants. If she noticed his nakedness, she made no sign of it. He then lifted her up and carried straight into the cold water, nearly gasping at the sudden and painful chill. Alice meanwhile almost shot out of his arms, instantly alert and bewildered as the icy water soaked her through. She cried and struggled in his arms and began to claw wildly at his brown skin. Though in pain, Uncas held on tightly, as he feared desperately she would get free—of course, English girls can't swim, he thought, again wishing evil thoughts upon such a ridiculous society.
Pushing those thoughts away, he pulled Alice closer, hugging her body against his broad chest, and again he whispered to her in Mohican. She stopped struggling and merely shivered, her teeth chattering and her tiny body trembling a riot against his. She looked up at him with gray accusing eyes, but she seemed to realize the danger she was in, and clung to his body rather than clawing against it.
"It's almost over, little mouse," he said his mouth buried in her silvery wet hair. "Another moment. Just breathe."
She muttered something in his chest that he couldn't quite understand. He flinched down, worried that her rambling had returned. "What is it?" he asked, pushing strands of wet hair out of her delicate face.
"I said," she hissed, "It's damn cold!"
With that, he burst into laughter. His whole body shook as he almost collapsed with joy. She was going to be alright.
"What's so funny?" she pouted, shoving her face back into his chest, as if she could burrow inside of his equally cold body for warmth.
He kept laughing as he hauled her out of the water, feeling a deep relief as the icy water receded. His joy didn't last long, however, when he saw an enraged Cora standing on the banks.
"Alice!" the brunette screamed. "What is happening? What have you done to her, you savage? Has she not been brutalized enough? Get away from her, you beast! You have ruined her!"
Cora fairly leapt upon the trembling girl, wrapping a heavy blanket around her as she tried to pull Alice out of Uncas' arms. Bending down, he relinquished his charge, as Alice stood on her own two feet, her legs shaking like a newborn doe.
"What is happening here, son?" asked Chingachgook calmly, knowing Uncas too well to misjudge the situation. "Is she alright?"
"She had heatstroke," he explained, feeling angry that he was being treated like a common criminal by Cora, though he understood her passion. "She was senseless. Rambling. I couldn't get her to drink. I had to get her body temperature down. It was the only way."
Cora barely seemed to register his words, as she had turned to murmur to Alice, but Nathaniel and Chingachgook nodded in praise.
"You did good, brother," said Nathaniel. "Cora is wrong to speak to you as she did."
This seemed to get the eldest Munroe's attention. For a moment her face flashed with anger and pride, but then she seemed to give into to Nathaniel's opinion. She let Alice settle onto the ground and handed her more water. With restraint, she turned to the Indian she had insulted, speaking in low tones so as not to disturb her sister.
"Forgive me, Uncas," she said, "You must understand…I thought the worst when I saw her clothing discarded and torn back in the woods. And then you naked in the water with her…Her honor…Without it, she will never make a match. After what happened in London, there can be no more chances…"
Suddenly she stopped herself, realizing she was voicing private thoughts aloud due to the adrenaline still racing through her.
"Have you any other clothes she can wear?" asked Chingachgook, changing the subject. "She cannot wear that heavy gown in her condition."
Alice suddenly became aware of the conversation. "What do you mean? What shall I wear? Oh, where are my clothes?"
She looked down at herself and blushed a scarlet red, for the first time understanding exactly what Uncas had did…and what he had seen. Uncas ached for her when he saw her shame. He wished he could tell her that she had no reason to blush, that he had seen nothing, and that what he had seen had been pure. Instead, he realized his presence was a thorn to her.
"We should set up camp here for the night," said Uncas, and the other men agreed. "I will go see if I can catch any game for dinner. Where is the white solider?"
Nathaniel snorted. "He believed he should go on ahead alone. He thinks he can get to the Fort on his own and secure help for us."
Alice forgot her embarrassment and looked horrified. "Surely that is not safe!"
Cora shrugged. "We told him so. He would not listen. Come, sister, let's go find your dress. Perhaps we can cut some of the skirts out and make it more bearable."
Alice acquiesced, and Uncas turned slowly to walk the opposite way, his heart heavy despite the happy ending to the near tragedy. What did Cora mean 'what happened in London'? What was Alice murmuring about in her delusions? What had happened to his mouse before he found her?