CHAPTER IV.

How Ned Came to York (Toronto).

Ned was standing, nervously alert, his hands gripping the long rifle that still seemed strange to them. Before him was a strip of water, and all round him was forest--the gorgeous colored autumn trees of the Thousand Islands. The Canadians were travelling by night and hiding by day, for the two American warships that kept the lake sent their boats out searching constantly. Ned had been set as sentry by Tahata, the Mohawk, who was Edgar's lieutenant, and he was very afraid of failing to see some one of the little things which are important on watch duty.

He stared at a boulder jutting out in the shallow water. A minute ago bushes had screened its shore side, now they were certainly further along. With a remembering of the trees that marched to Macbeth's castle, Ned gave the bird call Tahata had taught him for an alarm, and instantly two lithe brown men appeared at his side. The suspected bushes stirred, showing part of a deerskin clad man, and all the Indians' alert savagery vanished. Muttering, "It is Kaanah," Edgar's Indian name, they lounged back to their places.

Edgar stood up, taking the branches out of the loops in his garments, and walking lightly, he passed Ned with a smile, and came to Tahata. "The Long Knives' (Americans) ship has passed," he said. "We will go on at dark. And what of the boy?"

"He has lived with men who did not know how to see," answered the Indian, "but he will learn, for he does not make the same mistake twice."

"I wanted to see if you would notice me," said Edgar to Ned later. "I did not think you would be so quick."

There was pride and affection in his voice, and Ned almost worshipped the father who, a few weeks before, had been a stranger to him. So they journeyed on, escaping a hundred dangers through Edgar's careful leadership, for he was indeed just such a man as would be a hero to any boy; and finally reached Kingston with their cargo--Kingston with all her flags drooping at half-mast.

Edgar hailed a red-headed young man on the deck of a smart schooner--the "Susan". "What's happened, Archy?" he called.

"Pretty bad news, Mr. Edgar. Them blamed Yankees got across Niagara river before daylight on October thirteenth. While our boys were beating them off at Queenston, a lot more sneaked up the mountain, took our battery there, and dug themselves some real smart trenches, then fired down on us. The York 'Gazette' said they were 'villainous aggressors', and there were a thousand of them."

"You red-headed blockhead," shouted Edgar. "Do you mean to say we're half-masting our flags because we're invaded?"

"Now don't get mad, Mr. Edgar," said the imperturbable Archy. "We're not invaded. General Brock started up to rout them out, but the firing was too hot. It's durned difficult to run up a mountain with sharpshooters firing at you from behind logs and earthworks. He went back, but only to try the other side with a lot of redcoats. He passed our boys, and he said, 'Forward, York Volunteers', and you can bet them volunteers did go forward."

"I see," said Edgar with sarcastic resignation. "We won Queenston Heights, and then put all our flags at half-mast."

"I meant, Mr. Edgar, that General Brock was shot dead as they charged the second time, and the boys had to go back. That's why the Yankees are calling it their victory, though General Sheaffe took command. He had fifteen hundred men, half of them Mohawk Indians, and they went up the heights in three parties, and smashed the Yankee lines. The 'Gazette' said 'Our unprincipled neighbours were totally defeated', but we hereabouts are only thinking that General Brock is dead."

* * *

So Ned heard the story of Queenston Heights, a fight which the American histories record as a "frontier skirmish of no importance but on the whole in favour of the Americans," while Canada lauds it as her great victory, on each 13th of October raising the flags on her schools and telling her children how Brock died. His ringing last command, Toronto has taken as her watchword--"Forward, York Volunteers!"

And in reality, the American invasion was little more than a reconnoitre--a test of the strength of the enemy, and its repulse was nothing in comparison to Canada's loss in Brock's death at that time. Yet we do well to count it a victory, for that tall granite shaft--Brock's monument on Queenston Heights--overlooking the gorge of wild Niagara, is Canada's declaration of independence. When our gray-coated militia charged up the heights beside the scarlet-clad English regulars, we affirmed that this North American continent was large enough for the growth of two nations and the flying of two flags.

Edgar and his party went on board the "Susan", and Ned was surprised again to find his father here also in command. The voyage had its excitements, as Archy explained to Ned. "Them blamed Yankees have ships all over the lake. We have some too, but we haven't, and can't get, a gun heavier than twelve and eighteen pounders, while theirs are twenty-four and thirty-two pounders, which means they can send a heap heavier shot. I was captured with the 'Susan', going to Kingston this time."

"How did you get away?" said Ned, hoping for a story.

"I left Niagara just after the battle to run to Kingston, to meet you, and to take General Brock's papers and stuff there. There was a bit of a blow, and the 'Susan' was caught inshore with a Yankee waiting to blow us out of the water as we came 'round. Course, I surrendered. Says the Yankee. 'What ship's that, and what's your lading?' Says I, 'Susan', Niagara to Kingston, with General Brock's papers and things'. 'Pass,' says the Yankee, 'General Brock was all right, and I'm real sorry he's dead'. And he dipped his flag to me. That Yankee was a gentleman and I've known others like him. I don't like this having to fight with them."

"But you wouldn't let them take Canada?"

"No, sir, you can bet your sweet life that Canada won't let no Yankee boss her into changing her flag. They're too blamed interfering, and old Upper Canada'll fight while she's got a man left to hold a gun. Maybe they'll remember not to come in here again. That's York."

Ned saw a narrow peninsula, curving round to form the harbor. It was the promontory that has since become Toronto Island. The entrance was on the west, between Gibraltar Point (Hanlan's), with its lighthouse and blockhouses, and on the mainland, Fort Toronto, and Western Battery. These consisted of earthworks and massive log barracks, armed with a few small cannon, where the present fort now stands.

The "Susan" sailed past the forts down a placid sheet of water. On the right Ned looked across the low sandbanks of the peninsula to the lake stretching away to the horizon. On the left was open ground where cows grazed, and beyond, the long wall of the forest. Then they were abreast of Half-moon Battery (Bathurst Street), where stood the Governor's "Palace", a big log house in the form of a half square, with verandahs round its inner sides, and a garden shaded by stately oaks. There too were the quarters, with their magazines and storehouses.

Then came more pasture and the "Susan" stopped at the wharves, (John Street) east of which lay the little town of York, with its nine hundred population, and three straggling streets--Palace Street (Front), which had houses only on its north side; King Street, and Lot (Queen)--then came the bush again. Yonge had wheat fields on either side, and was only known because it ran north into the bush where it became an Indian trail ending at Georgian Bay, and down which the natives came with their furs each spring. All the buildings were of logs except the two brick houses of parliament, of which York was inordinately proud. They stood on open ground by the mouth of the Don.

Edgar was now wearing his uniform and sword as a militia major; Tahata was in elaborately fringed and beaded buckskin, with silver mounted tomahawk and scalping knife--and a tall black silk hat! Ned in the clothes his father had given him, wore a fine cloth suit and starched much-frilled shirt, with silk stockings and silver shoebuckles. He was realizing that Edgar, militia major, wealthy trader, and member of the Upper Canada Legislature, was a man of importance.

As the "Susan" stopped, a pretty woman, in lavender silk, with a huge bonnet trimmed with flowers and green gauze, came on board, and Ned was introduced to his stepmother, with his half-brothers, three small boys, between ten and three. Ned and Susie Edgar liked each other at first sight, and were glad to leave together for shore, where Edgar, Tahata and Ned were to go to the "Palace". It was only a log house carpeted with skins, but all the formality of a petty court was observed within.

"General Sheaffe, whom Brock's death has made our governor, is a Swiss," Edgar told Ned. "He entered the English service when his country was over-run by France, and being bred in a Republic, he seems afraid of not being formal enough in his position here. Still a deal of ceremony is good policy with the Indians. A lot of the trouble they have had in the States is because the Indians have imagined an insult in some informality in council."

After Edgar had made his report to the coldly formal Sheaffe, and they were going home, he said to Ned. "Of course you will join the militia now, in the ranks. You may wonder that I don't buy you a commission. I would promise you that I will in one year, only I know by then you will have earned it."

Still talking Edgar reached his great store, crammed with goods for Indian trading. Ned was getting his first sight of the spirit of the new world, the ignoring of class distinctions, and the determination to rise.

"This isn't England," Edgar said. "Here the people own the land and pretty soon will have the ruling power, and the men whom they will choose for leaders will be those who have worked beside them, yet risen by their own work."

Ned felt chilled. He of all people felt no shame in humble beginnings, but his father's standards of value depressed him. He wondered what he would think of his Methodism.

Then Ned was taken into the house, built of logs. It had hall and living-room, the last with open fireplace, brass andirons and fender. Tall brass candlesticks stood on the mantel, the rugs were of fur, and the furniture rough made, but the sideboard held a fine array of silver plate, which society then demanded of every one who would hold position. Army officers dragged it through the bush with them, and wealthy traders proved their station by the amount they owned. There were books too in the parlor, which made Ned feel more at home. He followed his father past the four smaller bedrooms, and the big guest chamber, furnished with bunks round its walls, into the great kitchen, where the family ate and spent most of their time. Ned noticed a jug of whiskey with a cup on a small table, for any one to help himself. Then he sat down to supper.

The table was loaded with broiled venison, ham, homemade bread and butter, cheese, fruit pies, tea for Susie and the children, and whiskey for the men. On duty Edgar never touched anything but water, but now he frowned as Ned refused the whiskey black Bob handed him. At that time almost all the house servants in Canada were negroes, and Susie kept two, Bob and Fanny.

"Don't be a Methodist, Ned," said Edgar.

"I am one, sir."

"Was one," said Edgar coolly. "I let you come out forward to knock the nonsense out of you."

Ned wisely said nothing, and the next day he put on the dark gray uniform of the Canadian militia, took the oath to serve the king and obey his officers, being pleased to find that his captain was Archy, his father's employee. He enjoyed his new life and threw himself with such zest into his six hours of hard drilling a day, that Edgar gave him half grudging approval, but he was still unreasonably sore at his son's steady refusal to drink "like a man."

The war was still going on. Though American attacks on Lower Canada and Kingston had been repulsed, and 1812 closed with Canadian soil still free from the enemy, and the English flag over Detroit. Yet with their splendid naval victories the Americans were confident of conquest. It was the good seamanship shown in these fights which caused dismay in England, and filled the new republic with thoughts of its own naval supremacy. Canada took the news stoically; England's hands were too full in Europe for her to send out further ships. Certainly England would conquer Napoleon some day, and till then Canada would "hold the fort".

In January, 1813, an American force marched two hundred miles through a wilderness to retake Detroit. They were defeated, and Proctor, the English general, was unable to keep his savage allies from butchering many of the prisoners who had surrendered to him. All over the States this caused justly bitter feeling. Forty dollars was offered for the scalp of any Indian fighting in the British ranks.

"Don't speak of that at home," Archy told Ned. "Women folks are awful easy scared, and it'll hit your pa." For the English, to keep their Indian subjects under better control, had given Indian military rank to the white men, who like Edgar, had been elected sub-chiefs.

* * *

Ned found Susie interested in other things than war, when he went home that March evening. "General Sheaffe is back, Ned," she exclaimed, "with Bee and her grandfather, and two companies of regulars. There's going to be the ball of the season at the Palace, and I must find out if the fashions have changed much."

"They always change the same way, Sue," said Edgar, "less dress and more bonnet. It's Bonaparte's wife that starts them, and if I were he I'd suggest that she tie her dress round her head, and dress the rest of herself in her bonnet, for a change."

Then a small whirlwind, and Bee was in the House, in Susie's arms, laughing and exclaiming over the little boys, and Edgar welcoming his old friend, Dr. Tam. The surgeon handed Ned a letter. "From your Methodist friend, Ferguson," he said, and Ned hid himself in the lofts above the store, to read it without interruption.

"After you left us," Ferguson wrote, "we were ordered to St. Johns, near Montreal. We had to leave our families behind and had a severe and tedious march. The country and people and almost everything seemed strange, and not one of those I travelled with knew Canaan's language. But blessed be God, though I was a stranger and a pilgrim marching through the 'enchanted ground', I could now and then snatch a cluster of pleasant grapes, and see the end of my toils.

"On February 3, we marched to the Isle of Maux on Lake Champlain, where there has been some skirmishing with the enemy."

Ferguson went on with many quotations from his only reading--the Bible, Hymn Book, and John Bunyan, going rather fully into his examination of his own conscience, as to how a man could be a soldier and yet "love his enemies".

"I need to consult the Divine Oracle daily," he wrote, "for it is the soul's geography, which will show me the path I must needs take."

As Ned finished the letter, he saw his father and Dr. Tam come up into the next room which Edgar had fitted up as a "den", and sit down to drink together.

"Come in, and take your glass with us," ordered the half-tipsy Edgar, as Ned tried to pass the door unseen.

"Yes, come," said Dr. Tam, "even if you are a Methodist. Lots of them take their glass, its only their preachers and saints that set up to be so extra good. Come, you'll never be a man till you drink."

"You're no Methodist," roared Edgar, as Ned sat down unwillingly. "What do you mean by writing to them? Give me that letter that you got from one of them to-day, or I'll break your neck."

Ned obeyed, though his eyes flashed. Edgar read the letter, then burst into a torrent of oaths. "The canting coward," he shouted, "to take the king's pay and dare to talk of loving his enemies! And what's this gibberish about picking grapes in a Canadian forest in mid-winter? See here, you'll give me your word right now to drop this Methodism, or I'll flog it out of you to-night."

Ned sprang to his feet. "You can do what you like to me, sir," he said sternly, "for you are my father, but if you do touch me, I shall leave your house and never enter it again."