Part I

THE DECEIT

There was a scraping sound and the three siblings turned together. Alice took Cora's hand and squeezed it. The trapper was pulling a narrow canoe from under some low hanging bushes. Cora smiled self-deprecatingly and calmed her racing heart.

This is no time for fear, she told herself. If you jump at every sound you'll take flight; we'll be safe.

He gestured for them to wait and then began to slide down the steep bank. She watched him with growing trepidation.

When the old Indian and Uncas returned they inspected the waiting party. Then Uncas sat himself down on the remains of a fallen pine that had many years before slid down the bank so that it now lay partially in the water. Mr. Gamut immediately approached and addressed him, diverting her attention from the river and canoe.

"I have heard that the French have not penetrated this far since March, when they were driven back without significant losses on our part, how do you think Fort Wiliam-Henry will fare in the coming conflict? Is there any great chance of defeat? With my own eyes I beheld a force of Royal Americans set out this morning, they will arrive this evening if what I have heard is correct."

The Indian looked up and Cora thought his expression to be somewhat troubled. He studied the strange image that was the singing master with no little amazement but he answered, "You have heard wrongly then; the French scouts have often come this far. Only a week ago at Sabbath Point a large force ambushed Colonel Parker and the Jersey Blues. But the rumoured force that now approaches William-Henry? no such force has been seen in the last year."

Cora moved closer so as to hear him more clearly over the rushing of the water.

Gamut frowned, "But tell me, how will the fortification fare? Surely she will not fall before even a great force of Frenchmen!" His voice had risen with the passion of his statement and it reached a volume that it had not yet reached save for in his song. The younger man darted his eyes to Cora's face as his hand reached for his knife. He rose in a single movement and clapped his hand over the older man's mouth. As they stood together, one dressed in sky-blue and yellow that clashed with his balding crown and papery pale skin, the other in breeches and darkly coloured loose homespun shirt which held no such contrast to his darker face.

"Another word, and I shall ask the ladies to look away. You will bring our enemies down upon us!"

Mr. Gamut's eyes went startlingly wide and he froze. Alice gasped. The two men were not so different in height, Uncas being only an inch or two shorter. The difference between them though was stark. One so grim and harsh, the other so naive and shocked. They might have made a comedic picture had the situation been different. As it were, Cora was certain that Uncas would keep his word. She covered her mouth but didn't turn. She couldn't seem to tear herself away from the scene.

Mr. Gamut nodded jerkily.

As quickly as Uncas had risen, he released the older man and sat down. He stared off into the woods, ignoring the man who was still awkwardly standing beside him. Cora, too, turned away. She pulled Will to her side and held him there silently. A few minutes passed in tense silence before the trapper returned. He gestured them down after himself and led them all to the water's edge.

Cora hesitated at the edge and gestured Will and Alice forward.

Alice squeezed her hand as she passed, whispering "You can do this, trust them." Then she stepped into the canoe and within a few moments the birch-bark was lost up river in the gloom and Cora was left alone with Captain Hayward and the old Indian.

Captain Hayward made no move to speak to her, either because of their quarrel or because the scene with Uncas and Mr. Gamut had affected him so strongly.

Barely ten minutes passed before the canoe appeared once more like a silent ghost upon the water out of some tale. The two men steadied it against the bank and Captain Hayward handed her in. There was a moment as she balanced in the centre of the bark where she was certain she would plunge into the water, but a hand steadied her from behind and guided her down.

She dared not glance back until their whole party was in the bark and they were fully underway, the sure strokes of the paddlers sending them flying over the river. It was Uncas behind her.

His face was strong, all sharp edges, and flushed with exertion as he bent over his paddle. He flashed her a grin as he straightened with his paddle. She turned away quickly when she saw the muscles of his forearms rippling under the strain. After that she had no time to work up a fright at the deep water for they were in sight of the falls.

The white water of the falls cascaded down in a thunder of fury. Throwing up spray in all directions which dampened her face despite being a ways away from the source. The woodsmen deftly guided the canoe to a large flat rock near the falls and ran it up halfway.

The prospect of leaving the canoe was no more appealing than entering it had been. Somehow for all the canoe seemed unpredictable as it glided smoothly over the Hudson it felt safer to stay seated where she was than to trust her legs to carry her safely onto the rock while the canoe wobbled so near the edge of the roiling water.

Alice stood on the rock shelf encouraging her with her expressions, but it was only Captain Hayward's kind smile as he held out his hand to her, and Uncas discreetly acknowledging her fear by steadying the bark with his hand as he exited, that gave her the courage to leave it with her dignity intact.

"Where are we, and what is next to be done?" Captain Hayward inquired of the trapper when they were safely on the solid rock.

"This is the foot of Chepontuc," the man shouted over the roar, "which means 'a difficult place to climb around.' It is a rather simple but literal name like many of its others."

"Is it then a well known place?" Cora observed.

"Aye."

"Then why do we make our hiding place here? Do you expect us to spend the night on this rock?" Captain Hayward exclaimed in very real exasperation, gesturing at the slick slab they were standing upon. Cora scanned the area and it felt suddenly very small and very near the water. The other men, excepting Mr. Gamut, looked over at him exasperated in their turn, though they displayed it less strongly.

"For that very reason, officer. They will not suspect us of using such an obvious place. Besides, unless you wish to attempt it yourself, we have no intention of sleeping under the stars. There is a cave, carved out by the river, just behind the falls. In the summer months when the river is low in her bed the cave is dry and makes a good hideaway." He turned away and began to climb up a small outcropping. He stepped into the fall and disappeared.

She wilted with relief; they were not to spend the night on this rock ledge. But other worries quickly overshadowed that blessing.

Will was the first to follow the trapper. He scrambled eagerly up the slippery rock with the help of the old Indian having the time of his life. Cora laughed nervously but it was lost to the roar of the cataract and Alice did not notice. Instead she went next, clinging to Heyward's arm, leaning on his shoulder, smiling at him tenderly. Cora eyed their path dubiously, too concerned with how she was to follow to do more than notice her sister's flirtatious manner.

There was a light touch on her shoulder and she jumped. She had forgotten that Uncas was still there. He gestured up the rock. With a grimace she acquiesced.

She climbed more slowly and unsteadily than her sister. Uncas came after her. His presence, as he hovered those few inches behind to catch her if she slipped on the slimy rock, gave her some comfort as she navigated the nonexistent path up the side of the rock.

Passing quickly between the fall and the rock, Cora finally stepped into the cave which the trapper had spoken of.

The room she found herself in was low, spacious, but a bit stuffy. If the climate had been different the cave would have been quite comfortable. The falling waters cooled the air in the cave and cast interesting shadows on the walls. The floor was smooth save for a dip in the centre that seemed to serve as a fire circle. In one corner was a stack of wood and three kegs. By the fire circle were two knives of different lengths, a pewter plate, three pewter cups, and a partially carved block of wood.

Will was crouched by the fire circle poking it with a stick he had found. He looked up when she entered and called out to her.

She gathered herself before she went to him, and in that time the trapper rummaged in the corner by the wood while he called out to Uncas, "Light a fire, if ye can. The wood has dampened some."

When Uncas ducked out from behind her and bent down by Will, she shook herself and followed him.

Uncas called something in his own language over his shoulder absently.

"Here." The trapper tossed several split logs to him and Uncas caught them and stacked them up.

Will showed her the pretty rock he had found and she sat with him while she watched the goings on in the cave.

The fire was quickly lit and a meal cooked while the trapper regaled them with stories of things he had done or seen. His companions interjected sometimes to add a forgotten detail or correct him but otherwise were content to be silent.

Finally the trapper took the meat and away from the fire. "'Tis simple fare, just bits scratched together. Some leftover venison and corn patties, yer cabbage and cheese." He shrugged self deprecatingly. "It might not be what yer used to, but wash it down with a bit o' spruce? It puts flesh on yer bones that'll last ye all day and some."

Cora smiled at him. "I am sure that whatever you have prepared will be suitable. We are in your debt for all of this." She gestured around encompassingly but he waved her off.

"'T'nothing," he said gruffly and, after apologising for the lack of crockery, lay out the food on a clean board that had been procured from somewhere.

"Shall we say Grace?" Alice interjected softly.

"Aye," the old Indian agreed. And without more introduction than that the woodsmen made the sign of the cross and bent their heads.

"Lord, we thank'ee for Thy gifts," the trapper prayed, "another day to live, Lord, this food 'afore us, these guests we have with us here, and the sacrifice of Thy Son, Lord. In yer Son's name, amen." They crossed themselves once more. The trapper reached for his drink but the old Indian, who had noticed their surprise, hit his hand lightly away. "Natty," he scolded, "they are not Catholic. Let them pray in their own way if they will."

The man drew back with a sheepish look and waved for them to begin. Captain Hayward leaned back and nodded to Cora.

But she shook her head. "No, no, there is no need. You have blessed the meal once already."

The old trapper reached forward again, but Mr. Gamut harrumphed as though to say "Perhaps that is what you think" and recited a rapid prayer from the book of Common Prayer, through which the whole group, excepting Captain Hayward, bent their heads once more.

When he was finished the trapper looked around suspiciously as though one of them would postpone the meal once more, but Captain Hayward nodded to him. He reached for the food for a third time and began to pass it around.

"There are those who say only the Catholic is the way to Heaven," began the trapper musingly as he chewed. He hummed. "But I disagree. We serve the same God and read the same Scripture. I like to hear those of other churches pray." He patted Will's shoulder. "Yer a good lad, 'specially with yer father not here, brave."

Eyes gleaming with pride, Will thanked him but interjected politely. "It's Cora that's brave, sir, she always knows what to do and isn't afraid of anything, not even the stories Mr. Hilton's housekeeper tells."

The old trapper looked down on him kindly, his face illuminated by the dancing firelight. "Call me Nathaniel, boy. 'Tis the name my mother gave me, Nathaniel Bumppo." He shook his head and wiped his mouth upon his sleeve. "'Sir' is too stuffy for me."

Will nodded willingly while he swallowed. "I am Will," here he paused, "well, it's really Whilhelm Monro, but no one calls me that."

Bumppo's brows raised up almost to his hairline and he glanced over at his companions and then speculatively at Captain Hayward, but he continued the conversation without pause. "So she's not afraid of anything, your sister?" He said, through a mouthful of food.

Will shook his head, "No. Not of anything."

The man shook his head in wonder. His eyes twinkled. "A fine sister then, I would be quite proud to have such a sister."

Cora blushed. Before it could go any further, and feeling particularly embarrassed after her display earlier that evening, she leaned forward. "No, no. I am not fearless. Do not tell stories Will," she scolded.

Captain Hayward chuckled and, leaning forward too, he whispered conspiratorially, "Oh, but she is, I've never seen the like of her this side of the Appalachians. I have seen her—"

Cora pinched her friend to cut him off. "Duncan," she exclaimed in unison with her sister.

He backed off laughing. Out of the corner of her eye, Cora saw a smile playing on the lips of their audience. But Mr. Gamut interrupted with a stiff but very appreciated word of disapproval for the turn of the conversation, and the talk turned to the layout of the surrounding woods and river.

Cora listened intently as the men discussed logistics, but they soon changed tracks and began to reminisce over happier days. Their stories were beautiful and simple. They talked of weather and hunting, about the politics of the Hudson Valley and the families who lived in the area. The old Indian, his name was Chingachgook, spoke haltingly of the way the Valley had looked in his boyhood. He told how he and Natty had grown to manhood together and of the Jesuit missionaries that had lived alongside their tribe in the North who had discipled them and baptised them. Bumpo interjected to muse how it had been so long ago it all was every now and again or to clarify a detail or word for his friend. Uncas, who was Chingachgook's only son, was mostly quiet, but he filled the silences with antidotes about his boyhood rambles or entertaining interactions he had had or seen in Albany or, as was more usual, at one of the other surrounding forts.

The three men, as she watched them in the now dying firelight, fit together like a family, and the stories supported the thought. She mused on how they would be perceived in a place like Albany or even further south, but supposed that what God had drawn together so beautifully she ought not condemn. Whatever society said about the matter, any two men raised together had the right to consider themselves brothers, she decided, whether their skin was the same colour or not.