Part I
THE DECEIT
At last, when supper was finished and the fire was thrown another log—one of the ones Uncas had stacked to dry—Gamut requested the permission of Uncas to lead the group in a hymn.
"We are all Christians here," he said rather bitingly, remembering unkindly the interaction on the bank, but Uncas waved him forward without concern.
"The falls cover the noise," he said indifferently, "and our enemies will soon be asleep."
Disgruntled by his words and manner, the singing master of the Connecticut levy opened a small book. "This song is from our native England it was published in the year of our Lord, seventeen hundred and nineteen in a collection entitled The Psalms of David Imitated in the Language of the New Testament, the author is a pastor, Issac Watts by name. My sister, who knows how dearly I love new music, sent it to me this last Christmas. It's called Our God, Our Help In Ages Past. The words are here;"—he passed the little book to Alice—"the tune is St. Anne; it is a paraphrase of Psalm Ninety."
With that he blew twice upon his pitch-pipe and began and Monros joined him, bending over the little book.
"Our God, our Help in ages past,
our Hope for years to come,
our Shelter from the stormy blast,
and our eternal Home."
At the start of the second verse Duncan leaned over Alice's shoulder and joined them too. He wore a gentle smile which mirrored the one on Alice's face. His hand rested almost innocently on her shoulder as he followed the words and kept harmony with her.
"Under the shadow of Thy throne Thy saints have dwelt secure;
sufficient is Thine arm alone,
and our defence is sure.
As the last note of the third verse rang out, Mr. Gamut called out, "Verse six." In accordance to that Alice rested her finger below the first word of the sixth verse.
Bumpo raised his voice at the beginning of the last verse. It was a deep, ill-exercised bass that broke every time the pitch rose above an A flat but the old trapper's face was beaming. Both Indians listened with their eyes closed and smiles playing on their lips as the others sang the last verse.
"Our God, our Help in ages past,
our Hope for years to come,
be Thou our Guard while life shall last,
and our eternal Home!"
When they had finished the hymn Uncas rose, took a burning and smoking brand, and led the Monros and Captain Hayward to the back of the cave. There he felt along the wall with his hand until he had found what he was looking for—a hand hold—and pulled himself around a hidden corner. He stuck his head back around and said, "Be careful, the ground drops away a little here. Hold tightly to the groove in the wall and swing around. There is good footing." He pulled his head back in.
"I'll go first," Will declared with a tired grin. With Alice's help he found the handhold. He disappeared through the crack. From the other side of the wall his voice echoed strangely as he said something to Uncas. Cora stepped up and, taking hold of the wall, swung over. Her foot slipped a bit on the stone but she caught herself and stepped out into the adjoining cave.
The torchlight cast their shadows gently on the smooth walls. The cave was smaller than the other, but just as high and there were three distinct pallets of green branches covered by blankets. A pile of the same branches was banked against one wall. Cora noticed that the noise of the falls was less here, but would still cover any sound that she and her sister might make while they talked.
She turned to Uncas and caught his pleased smile as Will pointed to something. She felt a flash of something like comfort or pleasure at the sight of his easy interaction with her brother but it faded out of her mind as her brother tugged on her hand.
"Uncas said I could have my own bed," he pointed to one of the pallets. "I told him I wanted that one." She followed his finger with her gaze and a sudden thought struck her. These were their beds. She glanced at Uncas. He showed no sign of discomfiture at the idea of giving up his bed.
"Did you thank him?" Cora asked her brother, looking between the two.
"Yes." Will released her and darted into the bed. The branches crunched under his weight.
As Alice and Duncan entered, Cora thanked Uncas and requested he pass on her thanks to his father and uncle.
"Of course. It is no inconvenience at all." He smiled suddenly, revealing white teeth, "It's not as though we are unused to sleeping on the ground. We sleep like the dead wherever we lay our heads until someone wakes us." He slipped away before she could respond, leaving the torch in a crack in the wall.
Now alone with Captain Hayward for the first time since they had set out from Albany, Alice tugged him to sit beside her on one of the pallets. He came willingly enough, rubbing his brow and eyes. Cora spread her skirt and sat cross legged on the stone floor. Her brother joined her and set his head in her lap. She combed his messy curls with her fingers. His eyes drifted shut.
"When do we leave, Duncan?" Alice wondered aloud. Cora noticed her sister's hand on their friend's back rubbing small circles, but let it go.
Captain Hayward grunted.
"Before dawn," he muttered. "Try to sleep as much as you can. You'll have some seven or eight hours of rest. Don't talk too long." He was too tired to smile but the women summoned up the smiles that the playful dig deserved. He had learned first hand how they could talk the hours away while he escorted them up to Edward—he had been shocked that two women could find enough new conversation material to keep them up all night.
"Of course," Alice assured him. "We won't stay up too late."
He nodded. "I will sleep outside the entrance to this room, you three ought to be safe enough here."
"You distrust our hosts?" Cara inquired, surprised. Her hand drifted unconsciously to her side.
"No, certainly not. I trust them. But it is only right and proper." He looked over at Alice, before continuing, "It wouldn't do to have your reputations tarnished for the ladies of society to shun you. Your father has entrusted the three of you to me and I intend to do it right." He huffed a laugh and said somewhat morbidly. "If worse comes to worst and we are attacked I will be dead before any lay a hand upon you and Cora can defend you while she lasts."
"But it will not come," Cora said firmly.
"No," he agreed, patting Alice's free hand. "Only Webb knows of the path we have taken and whatever Magua intended, while I do not like him, I do not think he had our deaths in mind when he led us astray. It matters not. He will not find us." He stood suddenly and Alice's hand fell from his back.
"Goodnight ladies, I must go;"—here he looked strangely at Alice and Cora was reminded forcefully of George—"Pray to God that we reach your father safely before the French have encircled him." He made a sudden angry gesture, scowled, and bit his lip to keep in some oath that mentioning Fort William-Henry had brought to mind. With a stiff bow he stalked from the room taking the torch with him.
The sisters sighed as the darkness enveloped them. Cora lifted Will up and fumblingly laid him on his chosen bed. She removed his boots while Alice loosened his jacket and helped the sleepy boy pull it over his head. Freed of the garment he lay back, sound asleep.
Alice began removing the pins from her hair while Cora unbuttoned her riding habit and shrugged out of the heavy outer clothing.
"If all goes well we ought to reach the lake by tomorrow afternoon."
Alice smiled. "I won't miss the road."
"No," Cora agreed, as she folded the woollen garment and laid it aside. "Though I doubt the fort will hold any more appeal than the woods after a few hours in the confines of the tents in this weather."
"It's horrid," Alice acknowledged, pulling the last pin from her hair. Her braids fell down about her shoulders and she shook her head and stretched her neck.
"What do you think of our hosts and Mister Gamut? You have heard them speak all evening," Cora asked suddenly. She pulled at her bodice stays to loosen them, letting out a great sigh as they came open.
"I like their tones," Alice replied, smiling wistfully; "they are honest and kind. Mister Gamut is a simple man, I think, and he does not like the unknown. He places too much confidence and pride in the might of Great Britain and the Crown.
"As for the others, Mister Bumppo is a kind, hardworking man. One can see it in his face. His voice makes me think of Dennis, they are alike in manner. Chin-gach-gook—I'm afraid I've butchered his name horribly—reminds me of Uncle Freddy—"
"Oh yes, I thought so too." Cora grinned with fondness at the mention of that particular uncle.
"Yes, they are so alike in manner, aren't they?" Alice drew her knees up to her chin. "Both so steady and firm." Her jacket lay on the pallet and she was fiddling with the buttons at her front to loosen them. Cora's things were folded neatly by her side and her outer skirt had been removed. She was barefoot.
"What of Uncas?" Cora asked. She unpinned her black hair and began the work of unbraiding and rebraiding it down her back as one long rope.
Alice stilled her hands. An expression of exaggerated drama crept over her face and she smiled impishly in the pitch dark, declaring with a sigh, "I could sleep in peace with such a fearless and generous looking man for my sentinel. He looks like some Grecian statue come alive or the embodiment of a painting of the Renaissance. He is certainly the handsomest man in my acquaintance."
Cora chuckled and blindly tossed one of her gloves at her sister.
"Oh, I am in earnest, dear sister." Alice tossed the glove back.
"Surely not," Cora returned in mock horror, "you must reserve that place for one who we will not name. Is he not to your taste? Or have you seen reason and will leave that roughian to a woman who might tame him?"
"Cora! I jest—" she tumbled backward onto the cot she had chosen, "But he truly is handsome and I fully intend to sleep peacefully tonight. I noticed him looking at you frequently tonight. Perhaps…?" She trailed off suggestively.
Cora blushed and was shocked by the reaction. "Enough." She smiled, finishing her braid. "You have satisfied me. Our companions are good men, and you would fancy one of them had you not already had your heart set on—"
Alice surged up again. "Cora!" she cried. But Cora only laughed.
They finished their evening absolutions and lay down for bed listening to the roar of the falls above them. Sleep came quickly for neither sister, each preoccupied by thoughts of a lake some few miles distant and the dear parent stationed their who had sent them such strange instructions. Cora fell asleep sooneset, the scent of the wood and leaves and rock which mixed with the heavier scent of the cave relaxing her.