CHAPTER V
CHANGING ABOUT
"If you are ready for your sail and have the courage----"
Laurent Giffard kissed his pretty wife as she sat with some needleworkin her hand, telling legendary tales, that were half fairyembellishments, to the little Rose, who was listening eager-eyed andwith a delicious color in her cheeks. The child lived in a sort of fairyland. Miladi was the queen, her gowns were gold and silver brocade, butwhat brocade was, it would have been difficult for her to describe. Shewas very happy in these days, growing strong so she could take walksoutside the fort, though she did not venture to do much climbing. Theold life was almost forgotten. Mere Dubray was very busy with her ownaffairs, and her husband was as exigent as any new lover. Her cookeryappealed to him in the most important place, his stomach.
"And to think I have done without thee these two years," he would moan.
When she saw her, the little girl had a strange fear that at the lastmoment they would seize her and take her up to the fur country withthem. Pani was to go; he was of some service, if you kept a sharp eyeon him, and had a switch handy.
"I'll tell you," he said to Rose when he waylaid her one day, "becauseyou never got me into trouble and had me beaten. I shall have to startwith them and I will go two days' journey, so they won't suspect. Thenat night I'll start back. I like Quebec, and you and the good gentlemanwho throws you a laugh when he passes, instead of striking you. And I'llhunt and fish, and be a sailor. I'll not starve. And you will not telleven miladi, who is so beautiful and sweet. Promise."
Rose promised. And now they were to go down the river.
"The courage, of course," and Madame glanced up smilingly. "We take thechild for the present."
"I shall soon be jealous, _ma mie_, but it is a pleasure to see a brightyoung thing about that can talk with her eyes and not chatter shrilly._Mon dieu!_ what voices most of the wives have, and they aretransmitting them to their children. Yes; we will start at noon, and begone two days. Destournier has some messages to deliver. Put on thyplainest frock, we are not in sunny France now."
She had learned that and only dressed up now and then for her husband'ssake, or to please the child. And she had made her some pretty frocksout of petticoats quite too fine for wear here.
Rose was overjoyed. Wanamee was to accompany them. When they were readythey were piloted down to the wharf by Monsieur, and there was M. Ralphto welcome them. The river was brisk with boats and canoes and shallops.The sun glistened on the naked backs of Indian rowers bending with everystroke of the paddles to a rhythmic sort of sound, that later on grew tobe regular songs. There were squaws handling canoes with grace anddexterity. One would have considered Quebec a great _entrepot_.
But the river with its beautiful bank, its groves of trees that had notyet been despoiled, its frowning rocks glinting in the sunshine, itswild flowers, its swift dazzle of birds, its great flocks of geese,snowy white, in the little coves that uttered shrill cries and thenhuddled together, the islands that reared grassy heads a moment and weresubmerged as the current swept over them.
"Why are they not drowned?" asked Rose. "Or can they swim like thelittle Indian boys?"
M. Giffard laughed--he often did at her quaint questions.
"They are like the trees; they have taken root ever so far down, and thetide cannot sweep them away."
"And is Quebec rooted that way? Do the rocks hold fast? And--all theplaces, even France?"
"They have staunch foundations. The good God has anchored them fast."
A puzzled look wavered over her face. "Monsieur, it is said the greatworld is round. Why does not the water spill out as it turns? It wouldfall out of a pail."
"Ah, child, that once puzzled wiser heads than thine. And years mustpass over thy head before thou canst understand."
"When I am as big as miladi?"
"I am afraid I do not quite understand myself, though I learned it inthe convent, I am quite sure. And I could not see why we did not falloff. Some of the good nuns still believed the world was flat," andmiladi laughed. "Women's brains were not made for over-much study."
"Is it far to France?"
"Two months' or so sail."
"On a river?"
"Oh, on a great ocean. We must look at the Sieur's chart. Out of sightof any land for days and days."
"I should feel afraid. And if you did not know where the land was?"
"But the sailor can tell by his chart."
What a wonderful world it was. She had supposed Quebec the greatestthing in it. And now she knew so much about France and the beautifulcity called Paris, where the King and Queen lived, and ladies who wentgowned just like Madame, the first time she saw her. And there was anEngland. M. Ralph had been there and seen their island empire, whichcould not compare with France. She had a vague idea France was all therest of the world.
What days they were, for the weather was unusually fine. Now and thenthey paused to explore some small isle, or to get fresh game. As forfish, in those days the river seemed full of them. So many small streamsemptied into the St. Lawrence. Berries were abundant, and they feastedto their hearts' content. The Indians dried them in the sun for winteruse.
Tadoussac was almost as busy as Quebec. As the fur monopoly had been inpart broken up, there were trappers here with packs of furs, and severalIndian settlements. It was Champlain's idea which Giffard was to workup, to enlist rival traders to become sharers in the traffic, andenlarge the trade, instead of keeping in one channel.
Madame and the little girl, piloted by Wanamee, visited several of thewigwams, and the surprise of the Indian women at seeing the white ladyand the child was great indeed. Rose was rather afraid at first, anddrew back.
"They take it that you are the wife of the great father in France, thatis the King," translated Wanamee, "because you have crossed the ocean.And you must not blame their curiosity. They will do you no harm."
But they wanted to examine my lady's frock and her shoes, with theirgreat buckles that nearly covered her small foot. Her sleeves came infor a share of wonder, and her white, delicate arms they loaded withcurious bracelets, made of shells ground and polished until theyresembled gems. Then, too, they must feast them with a dish of Indiancookery, which seemed ground maize broken by curiously arrangedmillstones, in which were put edible roots, fish, and strips of driedmeat, that proved quite too much for miladi's delicate stomach. Thechild had grown accustomed to it, as Lalotte sometimes indulged in it,but she always shook her head in disdain and frowned on it.
"Such _pot au feu_ no one would eat at home," she would declareemphatically.
They were loaded with gifts when they came away. Beautifully dresseddeerskins, strips of work that were remarkable, miladi thought, and shewondered how they could accomplish so much with so few advantages.
The child had been a great source of amusement to all on shipboard. Herutter ignorance of the outside world, her quaint frankness and innocencetempted Giffard to play off on her curiosity and tell wonderful tales ofthe mother country. And then Wanamee would recount Indian legends andstrange charms and rites used by the sages of the Abenaquis in the timeof her forefathers, before any white man had been seen in the country.
Then their homeward route began, the pause at the Isle d'Orleans, thenarrowing river, the more familiar Point Levis, the frowning rocks, thepalisades, and the fort. All the rest was wildness, except the clearingthat had been made and kept free that no skulking enemy should take anundue advantage and surprise them by a sudden onslaught.
The Sieur de Champlain came down to meet them. Rose was leaping frompoint to point like a young deer. It was no longer a pale face, it hadbeen a little changed by sun and wind.
"Well, little one, hast thou made many discoveries?"
"Oh, yes, indeed. I would not mind going to France now. And we havebrought back some such queer things; beautiful, too. But we did not likesome of the cooking, miladi and I, and Quebec is dearer, for it ishome," and her eyes shone with delight.
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bsp; "Home! Thanks, little maid, for your naming it on this wise," and hesmiled down in the eager face as he turned to greet Madame.
She was a little weary of the wildness and loneliness of dense woods andgreat hills and banks of the river, that roared and shrieked at times asif ghost-haunted. Wanamee's stories had touched the superstitiousthreads of her brain.
M. Giffard took the Sieur's arm and drew him a trifle aside. Destournieroffered his to the lady and assisted her up the rocky steep. Many atragedy would pass there before old Quebec became new Quebec, withfamous and heroic story.
She leaned a little heavily on his arm. "The motion of the ship is stillswaying my brain," she remarked, with a soft laugh. "So, if I amawkward, I crave your patience. Oh, see that child! She will surelyfall."
Rose was climbing this way and that, now hugging a young tree growingout of some crevice, then letting it go with a great flap, nowsnatching a handful of wild flowers, and treading the fragrance out ofwild grapes.
"She is sure-footed like any other wild thing. I saw her first perchedupon that great gray rock yonder."
"The daring little monkey! I believe they brave every danger. I wonderif we shall ever learn anything about her. The Sieur has so much onhand, and men are wont to drop the thread of a pursuit or get it tangledup with other things, so it would be too much of a burthen to ask him.And another year I shall go to Paris myself. If she does not develop toomuch waywardness, and keeps her good looks, I shall take her."
"Then I think you may be quite sure of a companion."
Wanamee had preceded them and thrown open the room to the slant rays ofwestern sunshine. Madame sank down on a couch, exhausted. The Indiangirl brought in some refreshments.
"Stay and partake of some," she said, with a winsome smile. "I cannot bebereft of everybody."
But the child came in presently, eager and full of news that was hardlynews to her, after all.
"Pani is here," she exclaimed. "Madame Dubray and her husband have gonewith the trappers. They took Pani. He said he would run away. They kepthim two days, and tied him at night, but he loosened the thongs and rannearly all night. Then he has hidden away, for some new people havetaken the house. And he wants to stay here. He will be my slave."
She looked eagerly at my lady.
"Thou art getting to be such a venturesome midge that it may be well tohave so devoted an attendant. Yet I remember he left thee alone and illand hungry not so long ago."
Rose laughed gayly.
"If he had not left me I could not have taken the courage to crawl out.And no one else might have come. He wanted to see the ships. And MadameDubray whipped him well, so that score is settled," with a sound ofjustice well-paid for in her voice.
"We will see"--nodding and laughing.
"Then can I tell him?"
"The elders had better do that. But there will be room enough in Quebecfor him and us, I fancy," returned miladi.
Rose ran away. Pani was waiting out on the gallery.
"They will not mind," she announced. "But you must have some place tosleep, and"--studying him critically from the rather narrow face, thebony shoulders, and slim legs--"something to eat. Mere Dubray hadplenty, except towards spring when the stores began to fail."
"I can track rabbits and hares, and catch fish on the thin places in therivers. Oh, I shall not starve. But I'm hungry."
The wistful look in his eyes touched her.
"Let us find Wanamee," she exclaimed, leading the way to the culinarydepartment.
Miladi had been surprised and almost shocked at the rough manner ofliving in this new France. The food, too, was primitive, lacking in thedelicacies to which she had been used, and the manners she thoughtbarbarous. But for M. Destournier and the courtesy of the Sieur shewould have prayed to return at once.
"Wait a little," pleaded Laurent. "If there is a fortune to be made inthis new world, why should we not have our share? And I can see thatthere is. Matters are quite unsettled at home, but if we go back withgold in our purses we shall do well enough."
Then the child had appealed to her. And it was flattering to be the onlylady of note and have homage paid to her.
So the children sought Wanamee, and while Pani brought some sticks andsoon had a bed of coals, Wanamee stirred up some cakes of rye and maize,and the boy prepared a fish for cooking. He was indeed hungry, and hiseyes glistened with the delight of eating.
"It smells so good," said Rose. "Wanamee, bring me a piece. I can alwayseat now, and a while ago I could not bear the smell of food."
"You were so thin and white. And Mere Dubray thought every morning youwould be dead. You wouldn't like to be put in the ground, would you?"
"Oh, no, no!" shivering.
"Nor burned. Then you go to ashes and only the bones are left."
"That is horrid, too. Burning hurts. I have burned my fingers withcoals."
"But my people don't mind it. They are very brave. And you go to thegreat hunting grounds way over to the west, where the good Manitou haseverything, and you don't have to work, and no one beats you."
"The white people have a heaven. That is above the sky. And when thestars come out it is light as day on the other side, and there areflowers and trees, and rivers and all manner of fruit such as you neversee here."
"I'd rather hunt. When I get to be a man I shall go off and discoverwonderful things. In some of the mountains there is gold. And out by thegreat oceans where the Hurons have encamped there are copper and silver.The company talked about it. Some were for going there. And there werefur animals, all the same."
Rose had been considering another subject.
"Pani," she began, with great seriousness, "you are not any one's slavenow."
"No"--rather hesitatingly. "The Dubrays will never come back, or if theyshould next summer, with furs, I will run away again up to the Saguenay,where they will not look. But there are Indian boys in plenty where thetribes fight and take prisoners."
"You shall be my slave."
The young Indian's cheek flushed.
"The slave of a girl!" he said, with a touch of disdain.
"Why not? I should not beat you."
"Oh, you couldn't"--triumphantly.
"But you might be miladi's slave," suggested Wanamee, "and then youcould watch the little one and follow her about to see that nothingharmed her."
"There shouldn't anything hurt her." He sprang up. "You see I am growingtall, and presently I shall be a man. But I won't be a slave always."
"No, no," said the Indian woman.
"That was very good, excellent," pointing to the two empty birch-barkdishes, which he picked up and threw on the coals, a primitive way toescape dish washing. "I will find you a heap more. I will get fish orberries, and oh, I know where the bees have stored a lot of honey in ahollow tree."
"You let them alone for another month," commanded Wanamee. "Honey--thatwill be a treat indeed."
Miladi had missed the sweets of her native land, though there they hadnot been over-plentiful, since royalty must needs be served first. Theybought maple sugar and a kind of crude syrup of the Abenaqui women, whowere quite experts in making it. When the sun touched the trees in themorning when the hoarfrost had disappeared, they inserted tubes of bark,rolled tightly, and caught the sap in the troughs. Then they filledtheir kettles that swung over great fires, and the fragrance arisingmade the forests sweet with a peculiar spiciness. It was a grand timefor the children, who snatched some of the liquid out of the kettle on abirch-bark ladle, and ran into the woods for it to cool. Pani had oftenbeen with them.
"Let us go down to the old house," exclaimed Rose. "Do you know who isthere?"
"Pierre Gaudrion. He gets stone for the new walls they are layingagainst the fort. And there are five or six little ones."
"It must be queer. Oh, let us go and see them."
She was off like a flash, but he followed as swiftly. Here was thegarden where she had pulled weeds with a hot hatred in her heart thatshe would have liked to tear up the
whole garden and throw it over inthe river. She glanced around furtively--what if Mere Dubray should comesuddenly in search of Pani.
Three little ones were tumbling about on the grass. The oldest girl wasgrinding at the rude mill, a boy was making something out of birchbranches, interlaced with willow. A round, cheerful face glanced up frompatching a boy's garment, and smiled. Madame Gaudrion's mother had beena white woman left at the Saguenay basin in a dying condition, it wassupposed, but she had recovered and married a half-breed. One daughterhad cast in her lot with a roving tribe. Pierre Gaudrion had seen theother in one of the journeys up to Tadoussac and brought her home.
The Sieur did not discourage these marriages, for the childrengenerally affiliated with the whites, and if the colony was to prosperthere must be marriages and children.
Rose stopped suddenly, rather embarrassed, for all her bravado.
"I used to live here," as if apologizing.
"Yes. But Mere Dubray was not your mother."
"No. Nor Catherine Arlac."
The woman shook her head. "I know not many people. We live on the otherside. And the babies come so fast I have not much time. But Pierre saynow we must have bigger space and garden for the children to work in. Sowe are glad when Mere Dubray go up to the fur country with her man. Youwere ill, they said. But you do not look ill. Did you not want to gowith her?"
"Oh, no, no. And I live clear up there," nodding to the higher altitude."M'sieu Hebert is there and Madame. And a beautiful lady, MadameGiffard. I did not love Mere Dubray."
"If I have a child that will not love me, it would break my heart. Whatelse are little ones for until they grow up and marry in turn?"
"But--I was not her child."
"And your mother."
"I do not know. She was dead before I could remember. Then I was broughtfrom France."
Suddenly she felt the loss of her mother. She belonged to no one in theworld.
"Poor _petite_." She made a sudden snatch at her own baby and hugged itso tightly that it shrieked, at which she laughed.
"Some day a man will hug thee and thou wilt not scream," she said ingood humor.
Pani came from round the corner and then darted back. The boy left hiswork and came forward.
"Who was that?" he asked. "My father said 'get an Indian boy to work inthe garden.' I am making a chair for the little one. And I can't tellwhich are weeds. Yesterday I pulled up some onions and father was angry,but he could set them out again."
Rose laughed at that, and thought it remarkable that his father did notbeat him.
"Pani might show you a little. He belongs to me now. We both used towork in the garden. Mere Dubray was always knitting and cooking."
Pani emerged again. "Yes, let us go," and Rose led the way, but shewould have liked to throw herself down among the babies, who seemed allarms and legs.
"Can you read?" the boy said suddenly. "We have a book and I can readquite well. My father knows how. And I want to be a great man like theSieur, and some of the soldiers. I want to know how to keep accounts,and to go to France some time in the big ships."
Rose colored. "I am going to learn to read this winter, when we have tostay in. But it is very difficult--tiresome. I'd rather climb the rocksand watch the birds. I had some once that would come for grains and bitsof corn cake. And the geese were so tame down there by the end of thegarden."
The rows of corn stood up finely, shaking out their silken heads,turning to a bronze red. Then there were potatoes. These were of theDubrays' planting, as well as some of the smaller beds.
"M'sieu Hebert gave father some of these plants. He knows a great deal,and he can make all kinds of medicine. It is very fine to know a greatdeal, isn't it?"
"But it must be hard to study so much," returned Rose, with a sigh.
"I don't think so. I wish I had ever so many books like the Sieur and M.Hebert. And you can find out places--there are so many of them in theworld. And do you know there are English people working with all theirmight down in Virginia, and Spanish and Dutch! But some day we shalldrive them all out and it will be New France as far as you can go. Andthe Indians----"
"You can't drive the Indians out," exclaimed Pani decisively. "The wholecountry is theirs. And there are so many of them. There are tribes andtribes all over the land. And they know how to fight."
"They are fighting each other continually. M. Hebert says they willsweep each other off after a while. And they are very cruel. You willsee the French do not fight the French."
Alas, young Pierre Gaudrion, already Catholic and Huguenot were at war:one fighting for the right to live in a certain liberty of belief, theother thinking they did God a service by undertaking theirextermination.
The argument rather floored Pani, whose range of knowledge was only wideenough to know that many tribes were at bitter enmity with each other.
"Do you want to work in the garden? There are weeds enough to keep youbusy," said Pierre presently.
"No," returned Pani stoutly.
"And Pani belongs to me," declared Rose.
Pierre turned to look at the girl. Her beauty stirred him strangely.Sometimes, when his father sang the old songs of home, the same quiverwent through every pulse.
"I'm sorry," he said, in a gentler tone. "Now I must go back to mychair."
"Is it to be a chair?"
"I can't weave the grasses just right, though some one showed me, only Iwas thinking of other things."
"Let's see." Pani was a little mollified.
They went back to the boy's work.
"I'm only making a little one for Marie. Then I shall try a larger one.There are two in the room."
Yes, Rose knew them well. The place was about the same, with the greatbunk on one side and the smaller one on the other. Mere Dubray's brightblankets were gone, with the pictures of the Virgin, and the highcandlestick, that was alight on certain days. Little mattresses filledwith dried grass were piled on top of the bunk. It looked like, and yetunlike. Rose was glad she did not live here.
Pani inspected the boy's work.
"Oh, you haven't it right. You must put pegs in here, then you can pullit up. And this is the way you go."
Pani's deft fingers went in and out like a bit of machinery. It wasforest lore, and he was at home in it.
"You make it beautiful," exclaimed Pierre. "Oh, go slower, so I canunderstand."
Pani smiled with the praise and put in a word of explanation now andthen. The boys were fast becoming friends.
"Maman," Pierre cried, "come and see how fine the boy does it. If hewould come and live with us!"
"I might come a little while and look after the garden. And I couldcatch fish and I know the best places for berries, and the grapes willsoon be ripening. And the plums. I can shoot birds with an arrow. But Ibelong to mam'selle."
"If she will let you come now and then," wistfully.
"Yes, I might," with an air of condescension.
"Thou art a pretty little lady," was Mere Gaudrion's parting benison tothe little girl, and Rose smiled. "Come again often."
When they were out of the narrow passageway she said, "Now let us have arace. I am glad Mere Dubray is there no longer, are you not? But what afunny pile of children!"
They had their race, and a climb, and on the gallery they found miladilooking for them, and they told over their adventure.
"Yes," she said smilingly. "I think we can find a place for Pani, andbetween us all I fancy we can keep him so well employed he will not wantto run away."
A Little Girl in Old Quebec Page 5