Haki the Shetland Pony

by Kathleen Fidler

  “It’s six o’clock and we’re drawing in to Aberdeen.”

  “Aberdeen? My goodness, I must have been asleep for hours!”

  Adam wasted no time in drinking his tea, dressing and going down to Haki’s quarters. Haki was just struggling to his feet and shaking himself. He looked round in a bewildered fashion. He had had a very comfortable bed among the straw.

  “Hullo, Haki! You’re not used to all this luxury either, are you?” Adam laughed. “It’s a bit different from a Shetland hillside with a snell wind blowing.” Adam felt a pang of homesickness for the rough moorland and the bracing Shetland wind. He buried his face in Haki’s shoulder. Haki seemed to know Adam was sad, for he turned and licked his hands and face.

  He groomed Haki, watered and fed him, then went in search of his own breakfast. Mr Wiggins was already seated with bacon and eggs before him.

  “Your pony ready, Adam?”

  “Aye, sir. He only needs to have halter and bridle on.”

  “Good! Make a good breakfast yourself.”

  After breakfast Adam went on deck. Aberdeen was appearing on the skyline. In the early morning sun the granite buildings sparkled and shone. They rose, one behind another on the low hill. Among them soared the spires of many churches. Adam’s eyes grew wide. “Why, Aberdeen’s bigger than Lerwick!” he exclaimed. To the Shetland boy Lerwick had always seemed one of the largest cities in the world.

  The ship steamed its way up the estuary to Matthew’s Quay. As the ship eased into its berth Adam went down to Haki. He put on his halter and bridle. Haki licked him affectionately. A seaman came along the line of pens and said, “We’re ready to discharge the animals now. You can lead your pony out.”

  Adam led Haki out to the gangway. The pony looked dubiously again at the sloping contraption with the glint of sea water below it, but Adam said firmly, “Come on, Haki!” and gave a little tug to the bridle. He took the pony slowly down to the concrete quay. Once on firm ground Haki shook himself vigorously as if thankful he had made the passage from ship to shore without mishap.

  Mr Wiggins was already on the quay, smoking his cigar. He looked Haki over with approval.

  “Good lad! You’ve groomed him already. Now wait here till we get the other animals ashore.”

  “The other animals?” Adam was surprised.

  “Yes. The other Shetland ponies. I bought two more besides Haki.”

  “Are they all going to the circus?” Adam asked.

  “Yes. These two will draw a carriage for the chimps.”

  “Chimps?”

  “Yes. Chimpanzees. Monkeys, you know.”

  “Oh!” Adam was astonished. “And will Haki—?”

  Mr Wiggins understood the question before Adam finished it. “No we shan’t mix Haki with the chimps. He ought to make a turn on his own, though we might team him up with some other animal later.”

  “Where is the circus just now?” Adam asked.

  “Oh, we’re at Edinburgh. It’s our tenting season just now.”

  “Tenting?”

  “Aye, tenting is what circus people call it when they go on tour. My folk’ll be setting up the circus today at Murrayfield. That’s on the west side of Edinburgh. Performances start tomorrow.”

  Mr Wiggins laughed at the troubled look on Adam’s face.

  “It’s all right, Adam. We shan’t start showing Haki till he’s got used to the bustle of the circus. We’ll give him some time to settle down and learn his act first. It wouldn’t pay us to push an untrained animal into the ring. You’ll both be put through your paces. Ah, here come the other ponies! Once they’re landed we can get them all into the horsebox.” Mr Wiggins pointed to a large van that was standing near the end of the quay. On its side was painted in bright red letters “George Wiggins’ Circus.”

  “It’s one of our own vans come up to meet the ship. I phoned for it before we left Shetland. You didn’t think we were going to ride the ponies all the way to Edinburgh, did you?” Mr Wiggins’s laugh echoed round the harbour.

  A man swung down from the van and approached them. He wore riding breeches and a polo-neck sweater.

  “Morning, Mr Wiggins!” he said cheerfully. “Picked up some bargains?” He looked enquiringly at Adam.

  “Hullo, Jake! I’ve picked up a future performer as well.” Mr Wiggins said with a grin. “Meet Adam Cromarty. He’s going to join us with his pony Haki. This is Jake Bradley, Adam. Jake’s in charge of our horses and ponies.”

  Jake held out his hand. “What’s your line, Adam?”

  Adam look perplexed. Mr Wiggins spoke for him.

  “Oh, he’ll do an act with Haki later on when we’ve rehearsed him a bit. He’ll play the bagpipes.”

  “Bagpipes! We’ve never had a piper before.”

  “He’s quite good with them. The other ponies are ready now. We’ll get them into the horsebox.”

  Adam looked at the other two Shetland ponies. They were skewbald ponies, brown and cream, pretty enough, but not in the same class as Haki for appearance. Jake took them over and Adam led Haki to the horsebox. He was relieved to find it was divided into separate stalls.

  Jake called to Adam. “Bring your pony up now.”

  Adam went first up the ramp, holding the bridle loosely. Haki only hesitated for one brief second. Where Adam led, Haki would always follow.

  “You can hitch him up in the stall nearest our seat at the front,” Jake told Adam. He pointed to a little shutter which was open between the driver’s seat and the interior of the horse-box. “You’ll be sitting in front with me and Mr Wiggins. You can keep taking a peep through there at your pony and speak to him if he seems a bit restless.”

  Adam was grateful to Jake for understanding how he felt about Haki. He tethered Haki and gave him the last of the apples, rubbed his shoulder and said, “You’ll be all right, Haki. I’ll not be far away.”

  Jake saw the other two ponies into the van, then he and Adam lifted the ramp in place and secured it with cross-bars.

  “Now we can be off as soon as Mr Wiggins joins us. Climb up into the driving seat, Adam,” Jake said.

  Adam heard an enquiring neigh come from the dark interior of the horsebox. He looked through the aperture and called, “Quiet now, Haki! Everything’s all right.”

  Haki was so surprised to hear his voice without seeing Adam that he stared all round him. Adam laughed. The laugh reassured Haki. He gave a grumbling little whinny and settled down. Mr Wiggins joined them and soon they were speeding through Aberdeen. Adam stared open-mouthed at the big shops with their plate-glass windows. They crossed a bridge over the River Dee.

  “I’ve never seen such a wide river!” Adam exclaimed.

  “Have you no rivers in Shetland, Adam?” Jake asked.

  “Only small ones, just streams.”

  “Wait till you cross the Tay and the Forth then.”

  Soon Aberdeen was left behind and they rattled southward. Mr Wiggins fell asleep with his head in the corner of the cab.

  Through Perth they went, the road passing through wide park-like spaces, then once again they left the town behind.

  For all his interest in this new and exciting countryside, Adam did not forget to keep looking through the opening behind him at Haki. Once or twice the colt seemed restless and pawed with his foot at the floor of the van. Adam spoke or whistled to him and Haki settled down again. The motion of the van lulled him and he dozed on his feet.

  “You’re coming to the Forth Bridge now.” Jake told Adam.

  Adam looked at the high towers and the filigree lines of the suspension rods carrying the broad bridge with its four traffic lanes. It seemed such a delicate structure to carry all that weight. This would indeed be something to tell Ian and his parents in his letters. They entered the bridge and Adam looked at the prospect on either side; the sturdy cat’s cradle of red iron girders that made the old railway bridge to the east; the widening basin of the Forth above the road bridge.

  Mr Wiggins stirred and yawned.
“Ah! Coming towards Edinburgh?” he remarked with satisfaction.

  They passed through suburbs of pleasant houses and tree-lined roads. “You’re coming to Princes Street. That’s Edinburgh Castle,” Jake pointed out.

  Adam was excited. He had heard about Edinburgh Castle at school. The castle rose on high rocks above the town, looking like one out of a legend, silhouetted against the pale blue sky.

  “I never thought yesterday that I’d be seeing Edinburgh Castle today,” Adam said.

  “Well, take a good look at it now, for once you reach the circus there’ll be no time for sightseeing,” Jake told him. “It’ll be all hands to the job then.”

  A little further along the road Mr Wiggins stared ahead. “Ah! They’ve got the Big Top up,” he said with satisfaction.

  Over the roofs and trees the high-domed top of the circus marquee rose, its flag fluttering bravely in the westerly breeze.

  “Aye, we’ll be rehearsing the horses this afternoon,” Jake said.

  “Rehearsing the horses?” Adam asked.

  “Yes, the liberty horses, y’know. We give them the chance to get the feel of the ring in a new place before they give a performance.”

  “What are liberty horses?” Adam enquired.

  “They’re the ones that run round the ring freely and turn when the trainer signals. The equestrians leap on and off them and turn somersaults over their backs. My missus does a grand act at it,” Jake said with pride.

  “Does your missus perform in the circus?” Adam was surprised.

  “Oh, aye! Everybody has to do something in a circus. That’s right, isn’t it, Mr Wiggins? Even your daughters.”

  “Aye, the girls don’t do badly on the high-wire,” Mr Wiggins said.

  “The high-wire?” Adam was feeling bewildered by this new world of the circus.

  “They walk and dance on it, high up in the dome of the Big Top. You’ll see it, though. We’ll give you a chance to see all the turns before you and the pony take part in the programme.”

  Jake took a sharp turn to the left. “Here we are!” he said.

  Adam looked about him with keen interest. Beyond the Big Top were the animals’ quarters, connected to the show tent by a long canvas-covered passage. Jake came to a stop.

  “This is where the horses are stabled, there at the far end. The lions are in a cage nearest the ring, and the chimps are between them and the horses.”

  Behind the animals’ quarters, in the far side of the field, were the brightly coloured caravans and small tents of the circus people.

  Mr Wiggins swung off the van. “Get the ponies stabled, Jake. Then will you look after Adam and see that he gets a meal? I’m away to the Big Top to see what’s going on there.”

  “Don’t forget your own dinner, Mr Wiggins, or Mrs Wiggins will be on your track,” Jake said, chuckling. He turned to Adam. “Come on and help me to get the ramp down and the ponies out.”

  Jake Bradley took out the two Shetland ponies and Adam led out Haki. At the top of the ramp Haki stopped. He stared at the circus scene, sniffed the air and got the scent of the lions. An inherited instinct for fear which went back to some far remote ancestor possessed him. He trembled and neighed violently. An answering roar came from the lions’ quarters. Adam felt nervous himself, but he soothed Haki, saying, “Now, calm down, Haki. It’s going to be all right.” Together they walked down the ramp and into the new world of the circus.

  The quarters assigned to the horses were separate from those of other animals. To put lions and bears near to horses would have excited both. Though they got used to each others’ scents as they worked in the circus, old fears of the hunted for the hunter were still their inheritance. In the circus they learned to tolerate each other, but never to mingle.

  Each pony had a separate stall of iron rails and stout canvas.

  “Hitch Haki to the rail and then we’ll go and find some dinner,” Jake said.

  Adam hesitated. “I–I’d rather see him settled down first.”

  “Now listen, Adam! You can’t live, eat and sleep with that animal for ever. It just isn’t possible! That way the pony will never settle on his own. He’s got to learn independence the same way you’re doing by leaving your home and joining the circus.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Adam said seriously.

  “The first thing he’s got to learn is when you say, ‘Bye, bye, Haki, I’ll be back,’ that you will come back. He’s to learn to trust you when you’re not there as well as when you’re beside him. Now, I’ve got to see the chap who’ll be training the other Shetland ponies, so I’ll give you a quarter of an hour with Haki. Then say your piece to him, leave him, and meet me at the entrance to the stables.”

  Adam fondled Haki and talked to him. He hitched the bridle to the rail and Haki seemed to accept his stall. Adam found he still had ten minutes left of his allotted time so he thought he would try an experiment. He still had a few lumps of sugar left in his pocket. He took one out and held it on the palm of his hand so Haki could see it.

  “Bye, bye, Haki! I’ll be back,” he said firmly and gave Haki the sugar. Adam strode out of the stall and walked away along the line of the stables. When he got to the end he stood still and listened. There was no sound at first from Haki, then came a protesting neigh. Adam waited a few minutes, then went back to Haki. Haki was pulling at the bridle securing him. Adam pretended to be angry. He scolded Haki and said, “Keep still, Haki!”

  Haki was astonished, but obeyed. It had never happened before that Adam had spoken to him angrily. As soon as he had ceased his restless movements Adam rewarded him with another piece of sugar. He repeated, “Bye, bye, Haki! I’ll be back!” and disappeared from the stables. Another whinny followed him but this time it was not so indignant and plaintive. Adam waited a minute or two and then returned. This time, though Haki was glad to see him again, he was neither tugging at the rail nor pawing the floor. Twice more Adam repeated the drill. Each time he left him he gave him a lump of sugar and repeated the same words. Each time Haki seemed more reconciled to his departure. When he gave his little whinny now it was as if he said “Bye, bye!” too. When Adam finally went through the drill and met Jake outside, Haki made no fuss at all.

  “Come along to my living-wagon,” Jake said. “Ella is expecting you for a meal.”

  When they reached the caravan Mrs Bradley was already at the door and Jake made the introductions. She shook Adam warmly by the hand.

  “Come in! I’ve had your dinner in the stove a while.” There was a good smell of cooking.

  Adam was surprised how comfortable and well-furnished the caravan was. The bunks were folded into settees. There were lace curtains at the windows. There was even a crystal vase of flowers on the table which was set for three, with placemats and shining cutlery. Adam could not keep his astonishment out of his face. Mrs Bradley laughed at him.

  “You hadn’t expected our living-wagon to be as small as this, had you?”

  “It – it wasn’t that, Mrs Bradley. I had no idea a caravan could be so beautiful.”

  Mrs Bradley was pleased.

  She began dishing up the dinner. There was a good joint of roast beef, baked potatoes, Yorkshire pudding and a big cauliflower. “Get busy on the carving, Jake,” she directed him.

  A generous heaped-up plate was handed to Adam.

  “Get round that, lad. It’s a long time since breakfast,” Jake told him.

  Adam ate with relish. “That was just grand,” he said, as he cleaned up the plate. “I’ve never eaten Yorkshire pudding before.”

  “Never eaten Yorkshire pudding!” Ella Bradley looked at him incredulously. “Whatever do you eat on that far-off island you come from?”

  “Pease brose and cock-a-leekie and bursten broonies,” Adam said with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Mercy on us! What outlandish stuff is that?”

  Adam explained in detail.

  “Well, it doesn’t sound so bad the way you describe it. You can try your ha
nd at the cock-a-leekie on my stove some day and let us taste it,” Ella said.

  “Now, Ella, you know quite well it wouldn’t be a Sunday for you if you didn’t have Yorkshire pudding,” Jake teased her. “The missus is a right Yorkshire tyke, Adam. Born and bred in Leeds she was!”

  The meat course was followed by an excellent apple pie with custard. At last they all sat back from the table, comfortably full.

  “That was a fine dinner. Thank you very much,” Adam told Ella with real appreciation.

  “Glad you enjoyed it, luv!” she said, giving him the usual north country term of endearment between friends. “I’ll just side the dishes away, then we’ll all have a cup of tea.”

  Jake pulled out his pipe but Adam rose and helped Mrs Bradley to carry the dishes to the sink. When she began to wash up, Adam, said, “Where’s a drying towel? I always gave my mother a hand.” He gulped a little over the last remark and Ella gave him a searching glance.

  “Is this the first time you’ve been away from Shetland, Adam?”

  “Aye.”

  “It must feel a bit strange—”

  “Yes. This time last week I didn’t – didn’t think—” Adam felt a sudden constriction of homesickness at his throat. “I–I had to come away without saying goodbye,” he gulped. “You see, I couldn’t let Haki go alone.”

  “Haki?”

  “Haki’s his pony,” Jake explained.

  As an equestrienne Ella Bradley had learned to love her horses too, and she could understand Adam’s love for his pony.

  “Poor lad!” she said, laying a hand sympathetically upon his arm. “Now, don’t say another word till the tea’s mashed. The kettle’s just coming to the boil. Nothing like a cup of tea to raise your spirits!”

  While they were drinking the tea Ella asked, “Did the Boss – Mr Wiggins, you know – tell you where you were to live in the circus?”

  “No, he didn’t say. I–I thought maybe I’d have to sleep alongside Haki.”

  “We do have to rough it sometimes in the circus but we don’t doss down with the animals yet,” Jake laughed. “No, the Boss wouldn’t want you to do that unless your animal was ill and had to be watched. He’ll be expecting you to get a lodging in a wagon with some of the other lads, no doubt.”