Off To See The Wild West Show Part 1, Chapter 15 (2/2) By Frank Beill 1886: Hull, Yorkshire

(1/2), (2/2). 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.

'Let's get these lads onto the boat. The constables in Portland can deal with them,' the senior officer ordered. With the encouragement of prodding by the crewmen the captives shuffled across the deck to the side of the ship. Another officer joined them. 'Everything in order, gentlemen?' The newcomer's manner indicated to me that he was important. His peak cap and a long, navy blue jacket adorned with gold braid on the cuffs and shoulders reinforced my belief.

'Aye, Captain Bristow, sir.' Mr Bates' manner confirmed my assumption. 'We've searched from top to bottom, sir, and then back up to the top again. There are no more to be found, sir.' 'Well done, gentlemen. There'd be merry hell to pay with immigration in New York if we've got stowaways on board.' The ship's captain sported the finest grey beard I'd seen in many a day, but his words made me feel uneasy.

He turned to speak to the stowaways. 'If you lads want to get to the New World then there are two ways of doing it ... either save money earned from honest toil and pay your fare or get yourselves a position in a ship's crew and work your passage across. Think yourselves lucky we found you before we left English waters - otherwise you'd have been thrown to the fishes!' His words made me shiver with fear. With his sermon over the captain turned and mounted the stairway up to the promenade deck and to where Buffalo Bill was talking with the group of note takers who were still in close attendance.

Even under dim deck lights William Cody with his flowing hair stood out as a special person. The stowaways disappeared down a rope ladder and into the boat waiting alongside. So they weren't pirates after all and the prisoners weren't expected to swim for shore. The party on the promenade deck moved to get a better view of the unwanted passengers' departure.

Everything went dark. I was being dragged by my feet - under the tarpaulin and across the hatch cover from one side to the other. I tried to grab hold of something but there was nothing to hang on to. A strong hand was putting a painful squeeze on my left ankle and I was yanked out of my hideaway. I yelled out loudly but thankfully only managing pained noises. Good sense told me to hold back intelligible words. I dropped from the hatch cover and onto the deck with a thump. I rolled onto my back as best I could with my ankle still gripped in a vice.

The Stetson was coming off but I managed to tug it back onto my head. 'What've we got 'ere?' said a rough voice. Hands the size of frying pans were grasping my leg. They belonged to an enormous sailor whose weather beaten face glowed crimson even in the yellow deck lights. His visage was redder than any Red Indian. 'It's one o' them redskin papooses.' Another huge sailor joined him. 'No! That's what they calls babies!' My captor corrected the other sailor's suggestion before giving me a close inspection.

Was my game up so soon? Would I be climbing down the ladder to join the other four stowaways? 'Well, my lad. It's time you was in yer bed. Shouldn't be up here at this time o' night.' 'Bet he don't understand a bloody word you're sayin', mate.' The second sailor laughed and was joined in this by his companion.

'Let's get you back to your wigwam or wherever it is you sleep.' My captor spoke in a gruff but paternal way. My foot was now free and the sailor hoisted me to my feet by my shoulders. His arm kept tight around me and he led me back to the same hatch from which I'd emerged only minutes earlier. He left me there to find my own way back to the cabin. Once my skin would have singled me out as being different but now I blended in with the cast of the best show the world had ever seen and probably the finest people too.

Copyright © Frank Beill 2005

Continued.. Part 1, Chapter 16

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