Off To See The Wild West Show Part 1, Chapter 13 (1/6) By Frank Beill 1886: Hull, Yorkshire

(1/6), (2/6), (3/6), (4/6), (5/6), (6/6). 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.

The custom of the Wild West Show was to camp alongside the place where it performed but this didn't happen in Hull. For one thing there wasn't enough space at the football ground but mainly it was because the stay was to be brief. Some of the performers like Buffalo Bill himself stayed in hotels in the town. My people (this was how I thought of them now) and the cowboys lodged temporarily beside the dock in the Emigrant Shed. We waited by our fires until the multitude cleared away from the stadium. The skins of the so-called Red Indians weren't red at all but a shade of brown like my own, but in the crackling glow of the fire every face took on a bronze hue.

The braves removed their war paint, not wanting to frighten the townspeople when we made our way to the Alexandra Dock. Although removing the paint made them look the same as other men, it didn't take away the pride they held in both themselves and their tribe.

Open wagons appeared and we clambered aboard. I squeezed in between Laughing Waters and Yellow Flower. Two smaller girls spread themselves across my legs and feet. 'Your new sisters.' Laughing Waters gave a tired smile. It took me all my time to avoid yawning. It didn't come from disinterest; I was tired. I'd done nothing but I was still exhausted. There were such tales to tell George back in our double bed - but I wasn't going to be there with him that night or ever again.

My hiding place aboard the wagon couldn't have been a better if I'd made it deliberately myself but this wasn't why my new family created it. They were snuggling together for both warmth and to show their affection for one another. Fierce warriors riding their ponies alongside the wagons made me feel even more secure. Only a short time before, I thought they were my captors but now I was seeing them as my family and my protectors.

The wagons rattled over the stone sets in the streets, clunking and jolting each time they traversed a set of tramlines but I was oblivious to everything and fell into a deep sleep. I was missing my last chance to see the streets of Hull but I didn't care. Even the locals standing by the roadside cheering us on our way didn't disturb me. 'Wake up!' Laughing Waters was shaking me back to consciousness. 'Wake up! We have to go to the ship.' I was confused. Red Indians didn't have ships. They used birch bark canoes. I didn't have a clue as to what birch bark was but it was what my novel said and it must be true.

The fathers of my fellow orphans had sailed in ships - that's how the children became orphans. My real father had a ship but he'd lost it. I was still half asleep and confused. 'What ship?' I forced myself up on one elbow. She was smiling again. No one was ever better named. I thought of Sal who seldom smiled and who was so serious. So different but I came to love them both.

Continued... Next Page (2/6)

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