Afro-Cuban Tales

Hicotea’s Horse

141 Ñoguma Hicotea’s Horse Hicotea was busy reading Havana Illustrated beside a stream where Br’er White Horse came twice a day to drink. “Good morning, good morning, Br’er Hicotea,” said the horse. Hicotea stared at him over the top of his glasses and, disdainfully dropping his words one by one, he said: “Horse-is-my-horse.” Br’er Horse stopped in his tracks, hardly knowing what to say. In the heat of the moment, caught off guard like that, nothing came to mind. But later in the evening when he came back to the stream, he shouted to the tortoise, chopping his words off one by one too: “Hicotea-doesn’t-have-a-horse!” Some time later Hicotea appeared at the court, and he said to the king: “The-horse-is-my-horse.” (His words gave rise to lots of comments.) The king sent for the horse and said to him: “So, you’re Hicotea’s horse?” The horse didn’t know what to say. In the heat of the moment , caught off guard like that, nothing came to mind. He began to think. Then he went to see Hicotea and said: “Let’s go see the king. You owe it to me to set things right.” “Oooh,” groaned Hicotea. “Unfortunately, I’m on my deathbed today. So I can’t walk, Br’er Horse.” “If you can’t walk, I’ll carry you.” “Oh, but with all the pain I’m suffering, Br’er Horse?” “You can sit back on my croup.” “But I’ll fall off, Br’er Horse. I’ll fall off.” 142 Hicotea’s Horse The tortoise made a gallant effort. He climbed up on the horse’s croup. Then he fell to the ground, like a hard, round stone. “Wait a minute, I’ll put a blanket on my back. That’ll make it easier for you.” (But at the horse’s slightest movements, Hicotea, all bruised and battered, collapsed.) “Wait, I’ll put a saddle on for you.” “But how can I ever hold on, Br’er Horse?” “I’ll put a bridle and bit on too.” “And what if dogs attack us along the way?” Br’er Horse gave him a whip. “All you have to do is crack this whip. That’ll scare them off.” “Let all be done for the glory of God, Br’er Horse. If you gallop too fast, I’m done for.” And they started on their way. “Gogorín-kinyón-kinyón, kinyón! Gorín-gogorín-gogorín. Kinyón-kinyón-kinyón!” Seeing them gallop by, the trees laughed with all their leaves. Finally, they weren’t far from the king’s house. “Get down now, Hicotea. What if some member of the court saw me like this?” “Oh no, Br’er Horse. Not on your life!” And with that he flicked the horse with the whip. “Get down, Br’er Hicotea!” And they began to argue. But the king, who had already looked out his window and seen Hicotea riding his horse, came out to meet them and said: “Oh, you are indeed Hicotea’s horse. No question about it.” 143 Hicotea’s Horse Then Br’er Horse began to prance and buck and raced off through the fields as if someone were pressing fiery spurs into his flanks. Hicotea, hanging on to his mane for dear life, was able to stay in the saddle a long time. Just as they were crossing a creek, he said “thanks,” and dropped off into the water. Br’er White Horse lost his mind and fled from this world. He ran and ran and ran and ran until he came to the edge of the earth. And he rolled off into the darkness. He fell off into the depths of unseeing night. Even when he was dead the White Horse continued to gallop . Into the starry solitude, into the lonely dreams of the stars . . . ...