Off To See The Wild West Show Part 1, Chapter 14 (5/5) By Frank Beill 1886: Hull, Yorkshire

(1/5), (2/5), (3/5), (4/5), (5/5), 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 Deadwood Stage took on an abandoned ghostly appearance in the swirling mist. While most animals were housed on the lower decks, some of the show's livestock were kept penned on the open deck. I imagined some of the horses breaking free to take the coach out into the thick mist with a phantom driver at the reins.

For the first time I felt alone, mainly because I was on my own. Laughing Waters dare not follow me onto the deck and remained frozen on the stairway back down below the hatch. There was no sign of the little ones either. I wanted to shout to tell her to come up on deck but the forbidden English words choked in my throat and I returned to her. 'The Great Spirit is here!' Her voice was a hoarse whisper. A terrible fear blazed in her eyes and all colour was drained from her cheeks. 'This is as Black Elk foretold!'

'Don't be daft!' I hissed back but she wouldn't move. 'I thought you were a Christian?' 'I am - but I am also Lakota!' This great dichotomy was something I was going to have to learn to live with. The power of the spirit world was to be a major part of my new life. It wasn't only for Sundays like so much of the religion I was used to. I took hold of her shaking hand once more. It was ice cold. I led her back down the stairs and onwards to the dining room, but I was the only one with an appetite.

A couple of hours after the ship had stopped moving the fog went away again but only to come back worse than ever at around midday making it feel more like midnight. Late in the afternoon it finally disappeared but, although the ship was bathed in brilliant sunshine, all the Native Americans were still dubious about going up onto the deck. The temperature rose below decks and perspiration rolled down my face. After much persuasion my sister agreed to venture aloft again but she wasn't happy about it. Perhaps she feared the fog would sweep down again without warning and spirit her away. For the first time in my life I really felt like a big brother. Her hand was no longer icy cold. It was sweating now. I gripped it tight and hauled her up into the sunshine. No fog spirits were going to be allowed to take her, not if it was anything to do with me.

For once the two of us were on our own and we looked silently across the calm water to the high cliffs on the shore of England. This was radically different scenery from the flat land of the Humber's muddy banks where I grew up. This pancake flatness was how I believed all England to be and why should I believe otherwise?

No one told me it wasn't so. Most people in Hull knew no more than I did. I wanted to ask someone on deck where we were. What was the large mass of white cliffs jutting out into the sea? I heard a seaman tell one of the cowboys it was the Isle of Wight, but this place name meant nothing to me. A large ship steamed into view. Its decks were lined with passengers, all looking on curiously from the rails to see what they could of our vessel's compliment. They must have known the Persian Monarch was carrying the world famous Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show. As the ship sailed past us I made out the name Santiago on the bow.

The crowd on her decks waved to us and I could hear their cheers in the distance. Many of the cowboys were back on deck smoking and playing cards. Hats were waved in response to yet another appreciative audience. Only Laughing Waters and myself were there to represent the whole Sioux nation and I was there under false pretences. We went back below deck. Well, it was time for another meal.

This was my third day with the Wild West Show and I was certain my stomach had doubled in size to accommodate all the food. Laughing Waters was able to confirm to all the others that the Great Spirit was back in heaven or this was what I supposed she was telling them. What she said must have worked because most went back on deck again after eating.

A balmy breeze fluttered across the deck and the cowboy band entertained us. None of their tunes were familiar to me. I'd spent more than two years listening to nothing but hymns. If those dirges had been as bright and catchy as the ditties floating through the evening air then I might have been more enthusiastic about singing them. Some of the cowboys and girls danced together around the cargo deck. The Native Americans looked on incredulously. This was not what they considered to be dancing. Life was feeling good again. Life was feeling very good.

Copyright © Frank Beill 2005

Continued.. Part 1, Chapter 15

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