A Little Girl in Old Detroit | Page 5

the
advance guard."
"There never is any danger. And Pani is tall and strong. I am not
afraid."
"Perhaps you would rather I would not go? Though I believe you
accepted my invitation heartily."
Just then two half drunken men lurched into the path. Drunkenness was
one of the vices of that early civilization. Marsac pushed them aside
with such force that the nearer one toppling against the other, both went
over.
"Thank you, Monsieur; it was good to have you."
Jeanne stretched herself up to her tallest and Marsac suddenly realized
how she had grown, and that she was prettier than a year ago with some
charm quite indescribable. If she were only a few years, older--
"A man is sometimes useful," he returned dryly, glancing at her with a
half laugh.
After the English had possession of Detroit, partly from the spirit of the
times, the push of the newcomers, and the many restrictions that were
abolished, the Detroit river took on an aspect of business that amazed
the inhabitants. Sailing vessels came up the river, merchantmen loaded

with cargoes instead of the string of canoes. And here was one at the
old King's wharf with busy hands, whites and Indians, running to and
fro with bales and boxes, presenting a scene of activity not often
witnessed. Others had come down to see it as well. Marsac found a
little rise of ground occupied by some boys that he soon dispossessed
and put the woman and child in their places, despite black looks and
mutterings.
What a beautiful sight it all was, Jeanne thought. Up the Strait, as the
river was often called, to the crystal clear lake of St. Clair and the
opposite shore of Canada, with clumps of dense woods that seemed
guarding the place, and irregular openings that gave vistas of the far
away prospect. What was all that great outside world like? After St.
Clair river, Lake Huron and Michilimackinac? There were a great
mission station and some nuns, and a large store place for the fur trade.
And then--Hudson Bay somewhere clear to the end of the world, she
thought.
The men uttered a sort of caroling melody with their work. There were
some strange faces she had never seen before, swarthy people with
great gold hoops in their ears.
"Are they Americans?" she asked, her idea of Americans being that
they were a sort of conglomerate.
"No--Spaniards, Portuguese, from the other side of the world. There are
many strange peoples."
Louis Marsac's knowledge was extremely limited, as education had not
made much of an advance among ordinary people. But he was glad he
knew this when he saw the look of awe that for an instant touched the
rosy face.
There were some English uniforms on the scene. For though the
boundaries had been determined the English Commandant made
various excuses, and demanded every point of confirmation. There had
been an acrimonious debate on conditions and much vexatious delay,
as if he was individually loath to surrender his authority. In fact the

English, as the French had before them, cherished dreams of recovering
the territory, which would be in all time to come an important center of
trade. No one had dreamed of railroads then.
The sun began to drop down behind the high hills with their
timber-crowned tops. Pani turned.
"We must go home," she said, and Jeanne made no objections. She was
a little tired and confused with a strange sensation, as if she had
suddenly grown, and the bounds were too small.
Marsac made way for them, up the narrow, wretched street to the
gateway. The streets were all narrow with no pretense at order. In some
places were lanes where carriages could not pass each other. St. Louis
street was better but irregularly built, with frame and hewn log houses.
There was the old block house at either end, and the great, high
palisades, and the citadel, which served for barracks' stores, and housed
some of the troops. Here they passed St. Anne's street with its old
church and the military garden at the upper end; houses of one and two
stories with peaked thatched roofs, and a few of more imposing aspect.
On the west of the citadel near St. Joseph's street they paused before a
small cottage with a little garden at the side, which was Pani's delight.
There were only two rooms, but it was quite fine with some of the
Bellestre furnishings. At one end a big fireplace and a seat each side of
it. Opposite, the sleeping chamber with one narrow bed and a high one,
covered with Indian blankets. Beds and pillows of pine and fir needles
were renewed often enough to keep the place curiously fragrant.
"I will bid you good evening," exclaimed