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Last Updated: 15/08/2005 15:49:04
Off To See The Wild West Show Part 1, Chapter 12
(1/7)
By Frank Beill
1886: Hull, Yorkshire
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(1/7),
(2/7),
(3/7),
(4/7),
(5/7),
(6/7),
(7/7).
Part 1
Chapter 1,
2,
3,
4,
5,
6,
7,
8,
9,
10,
11,
12,
13,
14,
15,
16,
17,
18,
19,
20.
Part 2
Prologue,
Chapter 1,
2,
3.
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Only warriors shared the glow of Red Shirt's campfire and so I was led away to join the tribe's women and children sitting around their own fires.
I was starting a new life but my feelings were different from my first day in the orphanage. It was just as much a step into the unknown, maybe more but the situation wasn't the same. Today it was my decision. For the first time in my life it wasn't someone else telling me what to do.
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If I'd known how big a change it was going to be then maybe I'd have run off with George back to the orphanage. Looking back I'm glad I didn't chase after him although I was going to miss the Smith twins for a long time.
Even before I saw the Sioux families I could smell them. It reminded me of times when the breeze came from the direction of the smoke houses where herring was cured and became kippers. This stench often engulfed Grandmother's house. I didn't take me long to become oblivious to my companions' smell because it became mine too.
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Seeing the children playing took me back to running around barefoot in my street urchin days. The women's clothes were dowdy and made of animal skins, like all the rest of the tribe's garments. The female clothing was a sharp contrast to their men folk's peacock plumage. My first impression was how poor they looked but, like so many first impressions, it was wrong. Their poverty was restricted to only material things. In spirit they were rich.
'You will be my brother.' The girl smiled for the first time, displaying brilliant white teeth. Her smile's warmth made me feel more relaxed but she appeared coy when she asked: 'What is your name?'
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I'd been invited to join their tribe, to become her brother yet no one had bothered to ask my name. For the Sioux - or Lakota as they preferred to call themselves - what was happening to me was a matter of course and involved no fuss or formalities. I was a child with no family, someone who belonged to no one. What happened was what should happen.
'Sammy ... Sammy Smyle,' I replied.
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'No! No! You must have a new name. A Lakota name.' She smiled the widest smile in the world and I knew at once I was going to enjoy my new sister's company. For a moment I wondered what had happened to Mary, my real sister.
'But first you will need new clothes. John Nelson will come looking for you. If you change into Lakota clothes, you will not be noticed. He will think you ran away with your friend.'
Once again a new life meant a change of wardrobe. Would the Sioux have a Moshe Silver on hand to provide my new clothes?
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We were in the midst of the families. Intrigued eyes carefully examined the new arrival. In some faces I could see suspicion. Here was a boy who looked as though he might be one of them but he was dressed in English clothes and shorn of a flowing mane of hair.
My new sister made an announcement to the throng. I guessed it must have been Red Shirt's decision. Immediately, children and squaws surrounded me, all wanting an even closer look at their newfound relative.
'They want to know why a native of America is lost in England.' The poking and prodding I was getting amused her.
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Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 11 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
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We waited standing back to back, hoping this would give us some protection. The tribesmen slowly circled us, just as they would when attacking a wagon train of settlers on its way to California. Well, this is what my novel said they did.
Occasionally, a warrior would prod one of us. One snatched a hair from George's head before rushing back within the group
to display his strange booty.
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Sometimes your best is just not enough.
Panic stricken and panting I arrive.
There it is, a fucking huge wall. An obstacle blocking my progress.
A visible representation of all that I can't achieve.
Nervously I look behind me. I lash out at it, kicking and punching but to no avail.
It is rock solid. I jump but find it too high. I take a running jump
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"Mein Führer? Mein Führer?" The old man in the long grey coat was bent over the body slumped in the chair.
"Give it a few more seconds, Henry," said the doctor. "Do you speak any German? It might lessen the shock." No, Henry didn't speak any German and he didn't much care about any shocks he might deliver.
Behind the heavy oak chair,
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Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 10 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
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'So how are we gonna get in?' George kicked a loose stone across the street.
'We've got to circle the camp and look for a weakness in their defences. That's what Buffalo Bill would do.' I was not certain what my hero would do, but I thought my scheme had the right sound to it.
'Aye, but it's Buffalo Bill we're wanting to attack.
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The analysis of the VHS tapes have come back.
Keith reports back that indeed one of the tapes did contain episodes of He-Man, along with
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Inspector Gadget and Battle of the Planets.
Be worth something to an animaphile out there.
I will stick it on eBuy-GUM, the online Global Underground Marketplace.
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The Lord Nelson was your typical run-down seventies pub. The decor was in disarray, with half a mind to venerate the Royal Navy's biggest hero or to catch the eye of the potential clientele with the latest fashion. In this manner it achieved neither.
Mickey was the prototype glass collector for every
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Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 9 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
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'Not seen nowt like it!' George was sitting on his favourite seat - the kitchen doorstep. 'Them horses was wonderful.'
Dinner was over and most of my stew was inside him as well as his own double portion.
'But it was me father.' I was not listening and stamped my foot.
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He was sweating and his head was throbbing - the general effects of the weekend
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As the sun rose, so did my spirits. The men before me were all aged and seemingly wise.
You could just tell that all three of them had been born in this valley, and had all lived and
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If any, or all, of them genuinely believed in a heaven, then it wouldn't be an,
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For a taster, see the extract reproduced below, only available
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Moody just couldn't stop scratching. His shirt was far too stiff at the edge of the collar
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Some would say it looked almost military in its order and for that it
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Well that's her gone. You don't remember me do you?
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