Posted by Emma on March 06, 2000 at 11:54:46:
They stood on the overlook longer than they should, each deep in their own thoughts of grief and loss. Nathaniel knew it was time to go, but his father's gaze remained on the far mountain tops, as though looking for the face of the son he had lost. Cora, now his wife, gazed to the ground, her search turned inward, looking for answers that did not exist.
Nathaniel touched his father's shoulder, but Chingachgook's eyes did not turn toward him. He would follow in his own time, Nathaniel knew this instinctively. He reached for Cora, and she turned to follow him, her eyes empty of life or recognition. At a time when it seemed little else could be done to them, he knew they were still in danger, still within the reach of the Huron war parties, still enemies of those peoples who called this land home. Honor and tradition said they would not be harmed, but honor and tradition seemed very far away and untrustworthy.
He took his wife's arm and they started down the trail. He did not turn to see his father, there was nothing to be said. As they slowly descended, his thoughts turned toward a new life that must be made, a life without his brother, a life that would be so different he could not conceive it in his mind. Nathaniel focused on the immediate, the need for food, shelter, and safety. They should move fast to put distance between themselves and the Huron village, but Cora could not move fast, and her speed would set the pace. He would not leave her, as in her lay his future. His past remained on the overlook, gazing to the distant sunset.
Post a Followup