Joanne walked on by a side path to the back of the scene that she might be on hand when required. She felt annoyed with Unc’ Aaron for causing the delay, but the old man was so unsuspecting, and so pleased to be there, that she could not keep up her resentment, and told him to find himself a place where he could see, then went on and disappeared behind the row of army blankets stretched across to serve as curtains.
But Unc’ Aaron had no idea of being a mere spectator. He followed her all the way, and presented himself before the excited company with: “’Scuse me, ladies and gemmans, wharin kin I be of resistance?”
“Here, get Chico into these contraptions as quick as you can,” cried Hal, tossing him some gay trappings, and Unc’ Aaron fell to work with all the dexterity possible.
After this he was here, there, everywhere, waiting on the girls, helping the boys, taking charge of Chico when he was not needed, harnessing the horses to the wagon, strapping the crate of chickens in the right place under the wagon, and altogether expediting matters so much that long before the performance was over every one forgot his part in causing Pablo’s tardy appearance and thought only of his helpfulness.
It was a great show, and if the principal features lacked something of the exactness shown by Buffalo Bill, it was none the less enjoyed by both spectators and performers. Indeed, it is probably true that the very makeshifts added greater amusement. The girls wouldn’t have been girls if they hadn’t enjoyed shrieking when the band of Indians came down upon them interrupting the peaceful supper scene. Joanne wasn’t dragged very far by her apron strings because of the fact that the strings gave way and she found herself sprawling on the ground. She wasn’t very successful in turning her laughter back into shrieks, but she did her best, and was rescued in a state of convulsive mirth which might very well be considered sobs of joyful relief.
The stage-coach didn’t break down entirely, but it creaked so under the strain, that but for the popping of pistols one might have feared the passengers would suffer greater damage from a collapse of the vehicle than from the bandits. That the boys revelled in this part of the show goes without the saying, though perhaps those of them who had also belonged to the band of Indians were quite as happy in such character.
But probably none of the performers won more applause than Chico who acquitted himself with great distinction. Pablo, too, received an ovation for his feats in riding, greatly to Unc’ Aaron’s delight. The old man was utterly oblivious of the fact that he formed a part of the company of spectators. He kept edging further and further around toward the front and finally stood in full view uttering such exclamations as: “Go it, child! Das right, li’l’ hoss, prick up dem yeahs. Mekin’ pertend he buckin’, ain’t it de troof? Keep yo’ seat, honey! Keep yo’ seat! Looky dar! ain’ dat purty, de way dat chile pick up de hankercher when hoss a-goin’ lickerty split?”
But when at last Pablo galloped off the stage, the old man came to a realizing sense of being in the face and eyes of every one, and that he was as much a cause of amusement as any one else had been. Then he lifted his hands and rolled his eyes heavenward as he beat a hasty retreat. “I done los’ mah haid,” he snickered, as he appeared behind the scenes. “I so wrop up in watchin’ dat boy I clean fergit mahse’f. I hopes yuh-alls escuse me.”
This being no time to talk of excuses no one paid any attention to the speech, and Unc’ Aaron was set to work.
Later on when the singing and dancing was a part of the programme some one in front called out: “Unc’ Aaron! Unc’ Aaron! Give us a dance from Unc’ Aaron!” But no amount of persuasion could induce the old man to come out. He still regretted what he considered a loss of dignity in showing off his powers on a former occasion, and was not going to place himself in a position to be chaffed by “Mistah Ned.” If he had but known it, Mister Ned was the very one who gave the call.