Off To See The Wild West Show Part 1, Chapter 18 (2/3) By Frank Beill 1886: Hull, Yorkshire

(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.

For the next two days the only thing on my mind was the condition of the beautiful silver white steed. I felt guilty that the main reason for my concern wasn't solely a desire for his well-being. Bill never left the animal's side in its stall below decks. There was no further entertainment on deck; no one was in the mood. The life of one of the great family of the Wild West Show was in danger and it was reflected on every face. Old Charlie was one of the stars of the show and the thought of Buffalo Bill without him was beyond imagination. He was much more than just a horse; he was a friend and not only to Bill.

Everyone in the show had either given him a lump of sugar or ridden on his back. All my sisters had ridden him, led around by Bill himself. Once he even carried a Russian grand duke. On Thursday morning the news everyone feared arrived. I didn't need to be told what it was. Tears filled the eyes of even the hardest bitten rider of the range. The Native Americans weren't given to sentimentality but even they looked sad. Old Charlie died at two o'clock in the morning with his master holding his head and stroking his coat.

Later in the morning the body was brought up on deck wrapped in a canvas shroud. He lay in state with the Stars and Stripes of the United States' flag covering him. All day there was a constant procession of people paying their last respects. Red Shirt led my people in saying their farewell by performing a tribal chant over the body. I was with them but I didn't know what I was supposed to do and, once again, I took my lead from Laughing Waters. After helping to tend the ponies I remained on deck for a long time. Needless to say I had company. Although the little ones didn't really understand what was happening, they knew it was something important but also sad.

We sat on a closed hatch cover waiting for events to unfold. I daydreamed about Buffalo Bill's great adventures mounted on his best friend and regretted I'd never get to know this magnificent creature. For once I was glad George wasn't with me. The scene would have broken his heart. Even Sal would have shed a tear; I knew she had a good heart.

Two of the ship's crew were checking the security of the hatch covers and talking about the situation. 'They say Buffalo Bill wants to take him back to America an' bury 'im.' The first sailor gave a gasp and a slack rope got a hefty tug. 'What an' 'ave the 'orse rottin' on the deck for the three days or more?' The older second man looked up. 'That's what the cap'n said. Not 'ealthy that's what 'e said. God knows what the 'orse died of. Some sort of chest infection their doctor reckons.'

'That could kill off all the other 'orses an' animals. Maybe people an' all!' The wrinkled old tar looked concerned. 'Cap'n said 'e would 'ave to be buried at sea an' pronto!'

Continued... Next Page (3/3)

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