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Fiction |
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Off To See The Wild West Show Part 1, Chapter 17
(2/3)
By Frank Beill
1886: Hull, Yorkshire
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(1/3),
(2/3),
(3/3).
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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'The boy's a breed. Ain't no Arapaho with blue eyes!' said the other cowboy. Like most of the American riders he was moustachioed and tall but nowhere near Buck's height.
I shrank back into the safety of the ponies. Possible rescue appeared in the shape of Laughing Waters but her arrival came too late to save me. She tried to explain to Miss Arta and the cowboys that I was her brother and that I was stupid.
'The boy ain't so stupid ... he understands English!' Miss Arta countered my sister's arguments. Her attention turned back to me. 'Can you speak child?'
I mumbled a reply.
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'Speak up, young fellow.' Buck's words were demanding but still friendly.
'Yes, sir.' I decided to say as little as possible.
Buck leaned across and pulled off my Stetson. He could reach across tremendous distances by just bending forward.
'I think this brave's been scalped!'
My orphanage haircut made the two cowboys laugh.
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'What's your name?' Miss Arta looked even more curious.
Laughing Waters interjected with words in Lakota. As yet I didn't have a Sioux name. There'd have to be a ceremony to re-baptise me, which would have attracted attention on board ship.
'That means Lost Boy.' Buck's companion interpreted my sister's words.
The discussion on deck attracted attention and others joined us to see what was happening. The long voyage was boring and any unusual event was a source of interest to everyone. One of the newcomers was John Nelson.
'I seen this kid before!' The words emerged through a whiskery mass without any hint of lip movement inside it. 'Just before that last show in England!'
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My game was finally up.
'I thought he'd run off. He's an orphan or said he was. Red Shirt wanted to adopt him and his amigo. A long gangly red haired kid. Anybody seen him?'
The entire assembled group shook their heads.
'He ran away!' I blurted out. Laughing Waters nodded in agreement with my words.
'We'd better tell Captain Bristow.' Nelson was nodding too, I think. It was always difficult to tell what he was doing beneath the great mass of beard and huge sombrero.
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'No!' I hugged Laughing Waters and trembled. I remembered the captain's words to the stowaways. Despite her earlier reassurance to the contrary, I was anticipating becoming fish food.
A more senior advocate on my behalf appeared in the shape of Red Shirt who had come on deck together with Dog That Stands and other warriors. He was wrapped in a grey blanket with a single white eagle feather replacing his show time war bonnet. I was too busy hiding behind my sister and the ponies to fully see or understand what was happening.
The words I did hear from more than one mouth were: 'We'd better tell Bill.'
* * *
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