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."