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diff --git a/1154-0.txt b/1154-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cef7769 --- /dev/null +++ b/1154-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8940 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1154 *** + +_THE VOYAGES OF DOCTOR DOLITTLE_ + +[Illustration: + + I + HIS LANDING + ON THE + ISLAND + + II + HIS MEETING + WITH THE + BEETLE + + III + HE LIBERATES + THE LOST + FAMILIES + + IV + HE MAKES + FIRE + + V + HE LEADS THE + PEOPLE TO + VICTORY IN + WAR + + VI + HE IS + CROWNED + KING + +THE POPSIPETEL PICTURE-HISTORY OF KING JONG THINKALOT] + + + + +[Illustration] + + _The_ VOYAGES _of_ + DOCTOR DOLITTLE + + ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR + + BY HUGH LOFTING + + _Published by + FREDK. A. STOKES Co. + at 443 Fourth Avenue New York A.D. 1922_ + + + + + _Copyright, 1922, by_ + FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY + + _All rights reserved, including that of translation + into foreign languages_ + + First Printing, August 18, 1922 + Second Printing, November 10, 1922 + Third Printing, February 28, 1923 + Fourth Printing, June 20, 1923 + Fifth Printing, August 16, 1923 + Sixth Printing, November 30, 1923 + Seventh Printing, April 18, 1925 + Eighth Printing, March 19, 1926 + Ninth Printing, July 30, 1927 + Tenth Printing, April 11, 1928 + Eleventh Printing, June 19, 1929 + Twelfth Printing, September 12, 1930 + Thirteenth Printing, August 10, 1931 + Fourteenth Printing, September 1, 1933 + + _Printed in the United States of America_ + + + + + _To + Colin + and + Elizabeth_ + + + + +_CONTENTS_ + + + PART ONE + CHAPTER PAGE + PROLOGUE 1 + I THE COBBLER’S SON 3 + II I HEAR OF THE GREAT NATURALIST 8 + III THE DOCTOR’S HOME 15 + IV THE WIFF-WAFF 24 + V POLYNESIA 32 + VI THE WOUNDED SQUIRREL 41 + VII SHELLFISH TALK 45 + VIII ARE YOU A GOOD NOTICER? 50 + IX THE GARDEN OF DREAMS 55 + X THE PRIVATE ZOO 60 + XI MY SCHOOLMASTER, POLYNESIA 65 + XII MY GREAT IDEA 70 + XIII A TRAVELER ARRIVES 75 + XIV CHEE-CHEE’S VOYAGE 80 + XV I BECOME A DOCTOR’S ASSISTANT 84 + + PART TWO + I THE CREW OF “THE CURLEW” 88 + II LUKE THE HERMIT 91 + III JIP AND THE SECRET 95 + IV BOB 99 + V MENDOZA 105 + VI THE JUDGE’S DOG 111 + VII THE END OF THE MYSTERY 116 + VIII THREE CHEERS 121 + IX THE PURPLE BIRD-OF-PARADISE 126 + X LONG ARROW, THE SON OF GOLDEN ARROW 129 + XI BLIND TRAVEL 135 + XII DESTINY AND DESTINATION 140 + + PART THREE + I THE THIRD MAN 144 + II GOOD-BYE! 151 + III OUR TROUBLES BEGIN 155 + IV OUR TROUBLES CONTINUE 160 + V POLYNESIA HAS A PLAN 167 + VI THE BED-MAKER OF MONTEVERDE 172 + VII THE DOCTOR’S WAGER 177 + VIII THE GREAT BULLFIGHT 184 + IX WE DEPART IN A HURRY 193 + + PART FOUR + I SHELLFISH LANGUAGES AGAIN 198 + II THE FIDGIT’S STORY 205 + III BAD WEATHER 221 + IV WRECKED! 225 + V LAND! 233 + VI THE JABIZRI 239 + VII HAWK’S-HEAD MOUNTAIN 245 + + PART FIVE + I A GREAT MOMENT 253 + II “THE MEN OF THE MOVING LAND” 262 + III FIRE 266 + IV WHAT MAKES AN ISLAND FLOAT 271 + V WAR! 275 + VI GENERAL POLYNESIA 282 + VII THE PEACE OF THE PARROTS 287 + VIII THE HANGING STONE 291 + IX THE ELECTION 300 + X THE CORONATION OF KING JONG 308 + + PART SIX + I NEW POPSIPETEL 314 + II THOUGHTS OF HOME 322 + III THE RED MAN’S SCIENCE 328 + IV THE SEA-SERPENT 332 + V THE SHELLFISH RIDDLE SOLVED AT LAST 340 + VI THE LAST CABINET MEETING 346 + VII THE DOCTOR’S DECISION 350 + + + + +_ILLUSTRATIONS_ + + + The Popsipetel Picture-History of King Jong Thinkalot + (in colors) _Frontispiece_ + PAGE + “I would sit on the river-wall with my feet dangling + over the water” 5 + “And in her right foot she carried a lighted candle!” 22 + “‘Being a good noticer is terribly important’” 53 + A traveler arrives 77 + “On the bed sat the Hermit” 101 + “Sat scowling down upon the amazed and gaping jury” 115 + “‘What else can I think?’” 133 + “‘Boy, where’s the skipper?’” 147 + “In these lower levels we came upon the shadowy shapes + of dead ships” (in colors) 162 + “The Doctor started chatting in Spanish to the bed-maker” 175 + “Did acrobatics on the beast’s horns” 189 + “‘He talks English!’” 201 + “I was alone in the ocean!” 226 + “It was a great moment” 257 + The Terrible Three 279 + “Working away with their noses against the end of the + island” 293 + “The Whispering Rocks” 295 + “Had to chase his butterflies with a crown upon his head” 317 + “‘Tiptoe incognito,’ whispered Bumpo” 353 + + + + +_THE VOYAGES OF DOCTOR DOLITTLE_ + + + + +THE VOYAGES OF DOCTOR DOLITTLE + + + + +PROLOGUE + + +ALL that I have written so far about Doctor Dolittle I heard long after +it happened from those who had known him—indeed a great deal of it took +place before I was born. But I now come to set down that part of the +great man’s life which I myself saw and took part in. + +Many years ago the Doctor gave me permission to do this. But we were +both of us so busy then voyaging around the world, having adventures +and filling note-books full of natural history that I never seemed to +get time to sit down and write of our doings. + +Now of course, when I am quite an old man, my memory isn’t so good any +more. But whenever I am in doubt and have to hesitate and think, I +always ask Polynesia, the parrot. + +That wonderful bird (she is now nearly two hundred and fifty years old) +sits on the top of my desk, usually humming sailor songs to herself, +while I write this book. And, as every one who ever met her knows, +Polynesia’s memory is the most marvelous memory in the world. If +there is any happening I am not quite sure of, she is always able to +put me right, to tell me exactly how it took place, who was there and +everything about it. In fact sometimes I almost think I ought to say +that this book was written by Polynesia instead of me. + +Very well then, I will begin. And first of all I must tell you +something about myself and how I came to meet the Doctor. + + + + +PART I + + + + +_THE FIRST CHAPTER_ + +THE COBBLER’S SON + + +MY name was Tommy Stubbins, son of Jacob Stubbins, the cobbler of +Puddleby-on-the-Marsh; and I was nine and a half years old. At that +time Puddleby was only quite a small town. A river ran through the +middle of it; and over this river there was a very old stone bridge, +called Kingsbridge, which led you from the market-place on one side to +the churchyard on the other. + +Sailing-ships came up this river from the sea and anchored near the +bridge. I used to go down and watch the sailors unloading the ships +upon the river-wall. The sailors sang strange songs as they pulled upon +the ropes; and I learned these songs by heart. And I would sit on the +river-wall with my feet dangling over the water and sing with the men, +pretending to myself that I too was a sailor. + +For I longed always to sail away with those brave ships when they +turned their backs on Puddleby Church and went creeping down the river +again, across the wide lonely marshes to the sea. I longed to go with +them out into the world to seek my fortune in foreign lands—Africa, +India, China and Peru! When they got round the bend in the river and +the water was hidden from view, you could still see their huge brown +sails towering over the roofs of the town, moving onward slowly—like +some gentle giants that walked among the houses without noise. What +strange things would they have seen, I wondered, when next they came +back to anchor at Kingsbridge! And, dreaming of the lands I had never +seen, I’d sit on there, watching till they were out of sight. + +Three great friends I had in Puddleby in those days. One was Joe, the +mussel-man, who lived in a tiny hut by the edge of the water under the +bridge. This old man was simply marvelous at making things. I never saw +a man so clever with his hands. He used to mend my toy ships for me +which I sailed upon the river; he built windmills out of packing-cases +and barrel-staves; and he could make the most wonderful kites from old +umbrellas. + +Joe would sometimes take me in his mussel-boat, and when the tide +was running out we would paddle down the river as far as the edge of +the sea to get mussels and lobsters to sell. And out there on the +cold lonely marshes we would see wild geese flying, and curlews and +redshanks and many other kinds of seabirds that live among the samfire +and the long grass of the great salt fen. And as we crept up the river +in the evening, when the tide had turned, we would see the lights +on Kingsbridge twinkle in the dusk, reminding us of tea-time and warm +fires. + +[Illustration: “I would sit on the river-wall with my feet dangling +over the water”] + +Another friend I had was Matthew Mugg, the cat’s-meat-man. He was a +funny old person with a bad squint. He looked rather awful but he +was really quite nice to talk to. He knew everybody in Puddleby; +and he knew all the dogs and all the cats. In those times being a +cat’s-meat-man was a regular business. And you could see one nearly any +day going through the streets with a wooden tray full of pieces of meat +stuck on skewers crying, “Meat! M-E-A-T!” People paid him to give this +meat to their cats and dogs instead of feeding them on dog-biscuits or +the scraps from the table. + +I enjoyed going round with old Matthew and seeing the cats and dogs +come running to the garden-gates whenever they heard his call. +Sometimes he let me give the meat to the animals myself; and I thought +this was great fun. He knew a lot about dogs and he would tell me +the names of the different kinds as we went through the town. He had +several dogs of his own; one, a whippet, was a very fast runner, and +Matthew used to win prizes with her at the Saturday coursing races; +another, a terrier, was a fine ratter. The cat’s-meat-man used to make +a business of rat-catching for the millers and farmers as well as his +other trade of selling cat’s-meat. + +My third great friend was Luke the Hermit. But of him I will tell you +more later on. + +I did not go to school; because my father was not rich enough to send +me. But I was extremely fond of animals. So I used to spend my time +collecting birds’ eggs and butterflies, fishing in the river, rambling +through the countryside after blackberries and mushrooms and helping +the mussel-man mend his nets. + +Yes, it was a very pleasant life I lived in those days long ago—though +of course I did not think so then. I was nine and a half years old; +and, like all boys, I wanted to grow up—not knowing how well off I was +with no cares and nothing to worry me. Always I longed for the time +when I should be allowed to leave my father’s house, to take passage +in one of those brave ships, to sail down the river through the misty +marshes to the sea—out into the world to seek my fortune. + + + + +_THE SECOND CHAPTER_ + +I HEAR OF THE GREAT NATURALIST + + +ONE early morning in the Springtime, when I was wandering among the +hills at the back of the town, I happened to come upon a hawk with a +squirrel in its claws. It was standing on a rock and the squirrel was +fighting very hard for its life. The hawk was so frightened when I came +upon it suddenly like this, that it dropped the poor creature and flew +away. I picked the squirrel up and found that two of its legs were +badly hurt. So I carried it in my arms back to the town. + +When I came to the bridge I went into the mussel-man’s hut and asked +him if he could do anything for it. Joe put on his spectacles and +examined it carefully. Then he shook his head. + +“Yon crittur’s got a broken leg,” he said—“and another badly cut an’ +all. I can mend you your boats, Tom, but I haven’t the tools nor the +learning to make a broken squirrel seaworthy. This is a job for a +surgeon—and for a right smart one an’ all. There be only one man I know +who could save yon crittur’s life. And that’s John Dolittle.” + +“Who is John Dolittle?” I asked. “Is he a vet?” + +“No,” said the mussel-man. “He’s no vet. Doctor Dolittle is a +nacheralist.” + +“What’s a nacheralist?” + +“A nacheralist,” said Joe, putting away his glasses and starting to +fill his pipe, “is a man who knows all about animals and butterflies +and plants and rocks an’ all. John Dolittle is a very great +nacheralist. I’m surprised you never heard of him—and you daft over +animals. He knows a whole lot about shellfish—that I know from my own +knowledge. He’s a quiet man and don’t talk much; but there’s folks who +do say he’s the greatest nacheralist in the world.” + +“Where does he live?” I asked. + +“Over on the Oxenthorpe Road, t’other side the town. Don’t know just +which house it is, but ’most anyone ’cross there could tell you, I +reckon. Go and see him. He’s a great man.” + +So I thanked the mussel-man, took up my squirrel again and started off +towards the Oxenthorpe Road. + +The first thing I heard as I came into the market-place was some one +calling “Meat! M-E-A-T!” + +“There’s Matthew Mugg,” I said to myself. “He’ll know where this Doctor +lives. Matthew knows everyone.” + +So I hurried across the market-place and caught him up. + +“Matthew,” I said, “do you know Doctor Dolittle?” + +“Do I know John Dolittle!” said he. “Well, I should think I do! I know +him as well as I know my own wife—better, I sometimes think. He’s a +great man—a very great man.” + +“Can you show me where he lives?” I asked. “I want to take this +squirrel to him. It has a broken leg.” + +“Certainly,” said the cat’s-meat-man. “I’ll be going right by his house +directly. Come along and I’ll show you.” + +So off we went together. + +“Oh, I’ve known John Dolittle for years and years,” said Matthew as we +made our way out of the market-place. “But I’m pretty sure he ain’t +home just now. He’s away on a voyage. But he’s liable to be back any +day. I’ll show you his house and then you’ll know where to find him.” + +All the way down the Oxenthorpe Road Matthew hardly stopped talking +about his great friend, Doctor John Dolittle—“M. D.” He talked so much +that he forgot all about calling out “Meat!” until we both suddenly +noticed that we had a whole procession of dogs following us patiently. + +“Where did the Doctor go to on this voyage?” I asked as Matthew handed +round the meat to them. + +“I couldn’t tell you,” he answered. “Nobody never knows where he goes, +nor when he’s going, nor when he’s coming back. He lives all alone +except for his pets. He’s made some great voyages and some wonderful +discoveries. Last time he came back he told me he’d found a tribe of +Red Indians in the Pacific Ocean—lived on two islands, they did. The +husbands lived on one island and the wives lived on the other. Sensible +people, some of them savages. They only met once a year, when the +husbands came over to visit the wives for a great feast—Christmas-time, +most likely. Yes, he’s a wonderful man is the Doctor. And as for +animals, well, there ain’t no one knows as much about ’em as what he +does.” + +“How did he get to know so much about animals?” I asked. + +The cat’s-meat-man stopped and leant down to whisper in my ear. + +“_He talks their language_,” he said in a hoarse, mysterious voice. + +“The animals’ language?” I cried. + +“Why certainly,” said Matthew. “All animals have some kind of a +language. Some sorts talk more than others; some only speak in +sign-language, like deaf-and-dumb. But the Doctor, he understands them +all—birds as well as animals. We keep it a secret though, him and me, +because folks only laugh at you when you speak of it. Why, he can +even write animal-language. He reads aloud to his pets. He’s wrote +history-books in monkey-talk, poetry in canary language and comic +songs for magpies to sing. It’s a fact. He’s now busy learning the +language of the shellfish. But he says it’s hard work—and he has caught +some terrible colds, holding his head under water so much. He’s a great +man.” + +“He certainly must be,” I said. “I do wish he were home so I could meet +him.” + +“Well, there’s his house, look,” said the cat’s-meat-man—“that little +one at the bend in the road there—the one high up—like it was sitting +on the wall above the street.” + +We were now come beyond the edge of the town. And the house that +Matthew pointed out was quite a small one standing by itself. There +seemed to be a big garden around it; and this garden was much higher +than the road, so you had to go up a flight of steps in the wall before +you reached the front gate at the top. I could see that there were many +fine fruit trees in the garden, for their branches hung down over the +wall in places. But the wall was so high I could not see anything else. + +When we reached the house Matthew went up the steps to the front gate +and I followed him. I thought he was going to go into the garden; but +the gate was locked. A dog came running down from the house; and he +took several pieces of meat which the cat’s-meat-man pushed through +the bars of the gate, and some paper bags full of corn and bran. I +noticed that this dog did not stop to eat the meat, as any ordinary +dog would have done, but he took all the things back to the house and +disappeared. He had a curious wide collar round his neck which looked +as though it were made of brass or something. Then we came away. + +“The Doctor isn’t back yet,” said Matthew, “or the gate wouldn’t be +locked.” + +“What were all those things in paper-bags you gave the dog?” I asked. + +“Oh, those were provisions,” said Matthew—“things for the animals to +eat. The Doctor’s house is simply full of pets. I give the things to +the dog, while the Doctor’s away, and the dog gives them to the other +animals.” + +“And what was that curious collar he was wearing round his neck?” + +“That’s a solid gold dog-collar,” said Matthew. “It was given to him +when he was with the Doctor on one of his voyages long ago. He saved a +man’s life.” + +“How long has the Doctor had him?” I asked. + +“Oh, a long time. Jip’s getting pretty old now. That’s why the Doctor +doesn’t take him on his voyages any more. He leaves him behind to take +care of the house. Every Monday and Thursday I bring the food to the +gate here and give it him through the bars. He never lets any one come +inside the garden while the Doctor’s away—not even me, though he knows +me well. But you’ll always be able to tell if the Doctor’s back or +not—because if he is, the gate will surely be open.” + +So I went off home to my father’s house and put my squirrel to bed in +an old wooden box full of straw. And there I nursed him myself and took +care of him as best I could till the time should come when the Doctor +would return. And every day I went to the little house with the big +garden on the edge of the town and tried the gate to see if it were +locked. Sometimes the dog, Jip, would come down to the gate to meet +me. But though he always wagged his tail and seemed glad to see me, he +never let me come inside the garden. + + + + +_THE THIRD CHAPTER_ + +THE DOCTOR’S HOME + + +ONE Monday afternoon towards the end of April my father asked me to +take some shoes which he had mended to a house on the other side of the +town. They were for a Colonel Bellowes who was very particular. + +I found the house and rang the bell at the front door. The Colonel +opened it, stuck out a very red face and said, “Go round to the +tradesmen’s entrance—go to the back door.” Then he slammed the door +shut. + +I felt inclined to throw the shoes into the middle of his flower-bed. +But I thought my father might be angry, so I didn’t. I went round +to the back door, and there the Colonel’s wife met me and took the +shoes from me. She looked a timid little woman and had her hands all +over flour as though she were making bread. She seemed to be terribly +afraid of her husband whom I could still hear stumping round the house +somewhere, grunting indignantly because I had come to the front door. +Then she asked me in a whisper if I would have a bun and a glass of +milk. And I said, “Yes, please.” + +After I had eaten the bun and milk, I thanked the Colonel’s wife and +came away. Then I thought that before I went home I would go and see +if the Doctor had come back yet. I had been to his house once already +that morning. But I thought I’d just like to go and take another look. +My squirrel wasn’t getting any better and I was beginning to be worried +about him. + +So I turned into the Oxenthorpe Road and started off towards the +Doctor’s house. On the way I noticed that the sky was clouding over and +that it looked as though it might rain. + +I reached the gate and found it still locked. I felt very discouraged. +I had been coming here every day for a week now. The dog, Jip, came to +the gate and wagged his tail as usual, and then sat down and watched me +closely to see that I didn’t get in. + +I began to fear that my squirrel would die before the Doctor came back. +I turned away sadly, went down the steps on to the road and turned +towards home again. + +I wondered if it were supper-time yet. Of course I had no watch of my +own, but I noticed a gentleman coming towards me down the road; and +when he got nearer I saw it was the Colonel out for a walk. He was all +wrapped up in smart overcoats and mufflers and bright-colored gloves. +It was not a very cold day but he had so many clothes on he looked +like a pillow inside a roll of blankets. I asked him if he would please +tell me the time. + +He stopped, grunted and glared down at me—his red face growing redder +still; and when he spoke it sounded like the cork coming out of a +gingerbeer-bottle. + +“Do you imagine for one moment,” he spluttered, “that I am going to get +myself all unbuttoned just to tell a little boy like you _the time_!” +And he went stumping down the street, grunting harder than ever. + +I stood still a moment looking after him and wondering how old I would +have to be, to have him go to the trouble of getting his watch out. And +then, all of a sudden, the rain came down in torrents. + +I have never seen it rain so hard. It got dark, almost like night. The +wind began to blow; the thunder rolled; the lightning flashed, and in a +moment the gutters of the road were flowing like a river. There was no +place handy to take shelter, so I put my head down against the driving +wind and started to run towards home. + +I hadn’t gone very far when my head bumped into something soft and +I sat down suddenly on the pavement. I looked up to see whom I had +run into. And there in front of me, sitting on the wet pavement like +myself, was a little round man with a very kind face. He wore a shabby +high hat and in his hand he had a small black bag. + +“I’m very sorry,” I said. “I had my head down and I didn’t see you +coming.” + +To my great surprise, instead of getting angry at being knocked down, +the little man began to laugh. + +“You know this reminds me,” he said, “of a time once when I was in +India. I ran full tilt into a woman in a thunderstorm. But she was +carrying a pitcher of molasses on her head and I had treacle in my hair +for weeks afterwards—the flies followed me everywhere. I didn’t hurt +you, did I?” + +“No,” I said. “I’m all right.” + +“It was just as much my fault as it was yours, you know,” said the +little man. “I had my head down too—but look here, we mustn’t sit +talking like this. You must be soaked. I know I am. How far have you +got to go?” + +“My home is on the other side of the town,” I said, as we picked +ourselves up. + +“My Goodness, but that _was_ a wet pavement!” said he. “And I declare +it’s coming down worse than ever. Come along to my house and get dried. +A storm like this can’t last.” + +He took hold of my hand and we started running back down the road +together. As we ran I began to wonder who this funny little man could +be, and where he lived. I was a perfect stranger to him, and yet +he was taking me to his own home to get dried. Such a change, after +the old red-faced Colonel who had refused even to tell me the time! +Presently we stopped. + +“Here we are,” he said. + +I looked up to see where we were and found myself back at the foot +of the steps leading to the little house with the big garden! My new +friend was already running up the steps and opening the gate with some +keys he took from his pocket. + +“Surely,” I thought, “this cannot be the great Doctor Dolittle himself!” + +I suppose after hearing so much about him I had expected some one very +tall and strong and marvelous. It was hard to believe that this funny +little man with the kind smiling face could be really he. Yet here he +was, sure enough, running up the steps and opening the very gate which +I had been watching for so many days! + +The dog, Jip, came rushing out and started jumping up on him and +barking with happiness. The rain was splashing down heavier than ever. + +“Are you Doctor Dolittle?” I shouted as we sped up the short +garden-path to the house. + +“Yes, I’m Doctor Dolittle,” said he, opening the front door with the +same bunch of keys. “Get in! Don’t bother about wiping your feet. Never +mind the mud. Take it in with you. Get in out of the rain!” + +I popped in, he and Jip following. Then he slammed the door to behind +us. + +The storm had made it dark enough outside; but inside the house, +with the door closed, it was as black as night. Then began the most +extraordinary noise that I have ever heard. It sounded like all sorts +and kinds of animals and birds calling and squeaking and screeching +at the same time. I could hear things trundling down the stairs and +hurrying along passages. Somewhere in the dark a duck was quacking, +a cock was crowing, a dove was cooing, an owl was hooting, a lamb +was bleating and Jip was barking. I felt birds’ wings fluttering +and fanning near my face. Things kept bumping into my legs and +nearly upsetting me. The whole front hall seemed to be filling up +with animals. The noise, together with the roaring of the rain, was +tremendous; and I was beginning to grow a little bit scared when I felt +the Doctor take hold of my arm and shout into my ear. + +“Don’t be alarmed. Don’t be frightened. These are just some of my pets. +I’ve been away three months and they are glad to see me home again. +Stand still where you are till I strike a light. My Gracious, what a +storm!—Just listen to that thunder!” + +So there I stood in the pitch-black dark, while all kinds of animals +which I couldn’t see chattered and jostled around me. It was a curious +and a funny feeling. I had often wondered, when I had looked in from +the front gate, what Doctor Dolittle would be like and what the funny +little house would have inside it. But I never imagined it would be +anything like this. Yet somehow after I had felt the Doctor’s hand upon +my arm I was not frightened, only confused. It all seemed like some +queer dream; and I was beginning to wonder if I was really awake, when +I heard the Doctor speaking again: + +“My blessed matches are all wet. They won’t strike. Have you got any?” + +“No, I’m afraid I haven’t,” I called back. + +“Never mind,” said he. “Perhaps Dab-Dab can raise us a light somewhere.” + +Then the Doctor made some funny clicking noises with his tongue and I +heard some one trundle up the stairs again and start moving about in +the rooms above. + +Then we waited quite a while without anything happening. + +“Will the light be long in coming?” I asked. “Some animal is sitting on +my foot and my toes are going to sleep.” + +“No, only a minute,” said the Doctor. “She’ll be back in a minute.” + +And just then I saw the first glimmerings of a light around the landing +above. At once all the animals kept quiet. + +[Illustration: “And in her right foot she carried a lighted candle!”] + +“I thought you lived alone,” I said to the Doctor. + +“So I do,” said he. “It is Dab-Dab who is bringing the light.” + +I looked up the stairs trying to make out who was coming. I could not +see around the landing but I heard the most curious footstep on the +upper flight. It sounded like some one hopping down from one step to +the other, as though he were using only one leg. + +As the light came lower, it grew brighter and began to throw strange +jumping shadows on the walls. + +“Ah—at last!” said the Doctor. “Good old Dab-Dab!” + +And then I thought I _really_ must be dreaming. For there, craning her +neck round the bend of the landing, hopping down the stairs on one leg, +came a spotless white duck. And in her right foot she carried a lighted +candle! + + + + +_THE FOURTH CHAPTER_ + +THE WIFF-WAFF + + +WHEN at last I could look around me I found that the hall was indeed +simply full of animals. It seemed to me that almost every kind of +creature from the countryside must be there: a pigeon, a white rat, an +owl, a badger, a jackdaw—there was even a small pig, just in from the +rainy garden, carefully wiping his feet on the mat while the light from +the candle glistened on his wet pink back. + +The Doctor took the candlestick from the duck and turned to me. + +“Look here,” he said: “you must get those wet clothes off—by the way, +what is your name?” + +“Tommy Stubbins,” I said. + +“Oh, are you the son of Jacob Stubbins, the shoemaker?” + +“Yes,” I said. + +“Excellent bootmaker, your father,” said the Doctor. “You see these?” +and he held up his right foot to show me the enormous boots he was +wearing. “Your father made me those boots four years ago, and I’ve +been wearing them ever since—perfectly wonderful boots—Well now, look +here, Stubbins. You’ve got to change those wet things—and quick. Wait +a moment till I get some more candles lit, and then we’ll go upstairs +and find some dry clothes. You’ll have to wear an old suit of mine till +we can get yours dry again by the kitchen-fire.” + +So presently when more candles had been lighted round different parts +of the house, we went upstairs; and when we had come into a bedroom the +Doctor opened a big wardrobe and took out two suits of old clothes. +These we put on. Then we carried our wet ones down to the kitchen and +started a fire in the big chimney. The coat of the Doctor’s which I was +wearing was so large for me that I kept treading on my own coat-tails +while I was helping to fetch the wood up from the cellar. But very +soon we had a huge big fire blazing up the chimney and we hung our wet +clothes around on chairs. + +“Now let’s cook some supper,” said the Doctor.—“You’ll stay and have +supper with me, Stubbins, of course?” + +Already I was beginning to be very fond of this funny little man who +called me “Stubbins,” instead of “Tommy” or “little lad” (I did so +hate to be called “little lad”!) This man seemed to begin right away +treating me as though I were a grown-up friend of his. And when he +asked me to stop and have supper with him I felt terribly proud and +happy. But I suddenly remembered that I had not told my mother that I +would be out late. So very sadly I answered, + +“Thank you very much. I would like to stay, but I am afraid that my +mother will begin to worry and wonder where I am if I don’t get back.” + +“Oh, but my dear Stubbins,” said the Doctor, throwing another log of +wood on the fire, “your clothes aren’t dry yet. You’ll have to wait +for them, won’t you? By the time they are ready to put on we will have +supper cooked and eaten—Did you see where I put my bag?” + +“I think it is still in the hall,” I said. “I’ll go and see.” + +I found the bag near the front door. It was made of black leather and +looked very, very old. One of its latches was broken and it was tied up +round the middle with a piece of string. + +“Thank you,” said the Doctor when I brought it to him. + +“Was that bag all the luggage you had for your voyage?” I asked. + +“Yes,” said the Doctor, as he undid the piece of string. “I don’t +believe in a lot of baggage. It’s such a nuisance. Life’s too short to +fuss with it. And it isn’t really necessary, you know—Where _did_ I put +those sausages?” + +The Doctor was feeling about inside the bag. First he brought out a +loaf of new bread. Next came a glass jar with a curious metal top to +it. He held this up to the light very carefully before he set it down +upon the table; and I could see that there was some strange little +water-creature swimming about inside. At last the Doctor brought out a +pound of sausages. + +“Now,” he said, “all we want is a frying-pan.” + +We went into the scullery and there we found some pots and pans hanging +against the wall. The Doctor took down the frying-pan. It was quite +rusty on the inside. + +“Dear me, just look at that!” said he. “That’s the worst of being away +so long. The animals are very good and keep the house wonderfully clean +as far as they can. Dab-Dab is a perfect marvel as a housekeeper. +But some things of course they can’t manage. Never mind, we’ll soon +clean it up. You’ll find some silver-sand down there, under the sink, +Stubbins. Just hand it up to me, will you?” + +In a few moments we had the pan all shiny and bright and the sausages +were put over the kitchen-fire and a beautiful frying smell went all +through the house. + +While the Doctor was busy at the cooking I went and took another look +at the funny little creature swimming about in the glass jar. + +“What is this animal?” I asked. + +“Oh that,” said the Doctor, turning round—“that’s a Wiff-Waff. Its +full name is _hippocampus pippitopitus_. But the natives just call +it a Wiff-Waff—on account of the way it waves its tail, swimming, +I imagine. That’s what I went on this last voyage for, to get that. +You see I’m very busy just now trying to learn the language of the +shellfish. They _have_ languages, of that I feel sure. I can talk +a little shark language and porpoise dialect myself. But what I +particularly want to learn now is shellfish.” + +“Why?” I asked. + +“Well, you see, some of the shellfish are the oldest kind of animals in +the world that we know of. We find their shells in the rocks—turned to +stone—thousands of years old. So I feel quite sure that if I could only +get to talk their language, I should be able to learn a whole lot about +what the world was like ages and ages and ages ago. You see?” + +“But couldn’t some of the other animals tell you as well?” + +“I don’t think so,” said the Doctor, prodding the sausages with a fork. +“To be sure, the monkeys I knew in Africa some time ago were very +helpful in telling me about bygone days; but they only went back a +thousand years or so. No, I am certain that the oldest history in the +world is to be had from the shellfish—and from them only. You see most +of the other animals that were alive in those very ancient times have +now become extinct.” + +“Have you learned any shellfish language yet?” I asked. + +“No. I’ve only just begun. I wanted this particular kind of a pipe-fish +because he is half a shellfish and half an ordinary fish. I went all +the way to the Eastern Mediterranean after him. But I’m very much +afraid he isn’t going to be a great deal of help to me. To tell you the +truth, I’m rather disappointed in his appearance. He doesn’t _look_ +very intelligent, does he?” + +“No, he doesn’t,” I agreed. + +“Ah,” said the Doctor. “The sausages are done to a turn. Come +along—hold your plate near and let me give you some.” + +Then we sat down at the kitchen-table and started a hearty meal. + +It was a wonderful kitchen, that. I had many meals there afterwards +and I found it a better place to eat in than the grandest dining-room +in the world. It was so cozy and home-like and warm. It was so handy +for the food too. You took it right off the fire, hot, and put it on +the table and ate it. And you could watch your toast toasting at the +fender and see it didn’t burn while you drank your soup. And if you +had forgotten to put the salt on the table, you didn’t have to get up +and go into another room to fetch it; you just reached round and took +the big wooden box off the dresser behind you. Then the fireplace—the +biggest fireplace you ever saw—was like a room in itself. You could get +right inside it even when the logs were burning and sit on the wide +seats either side and roast chestnuts after the meal was over—or listen +to the kettle singing, or tell stories, or look at picture-books by the +light of the fire. It was a marvelous kitchen. It was like the Doctor, +comfortable, sensible, friendly and solid. + +While we were gobbling away, the door suddenly opened and in marched +the duck, Dab-Dab, and the dog, Jip, dragging sheets and pillow-cases +behind them over the clean tiled floor. The Doctor, seeing how +surprised I was, explained: + +“They’re just going to air the bedding for me in front of the fire. +Dab-Dab is a perfect treasure of a housekeeper; she never forgets +anything. I had a sister once who used to keep house for me (poor, dear +Sarah! I wonder how she’s getting on—I haven’t seen her in many years). +But she wasn’t nearly as good as Dab-Dab. Have another sausage?” + +The Doctor turned and said a few words to the dog and duck in some +strange talk and signs. They seemed to understand him perfectly. + +“Can you talk in squirrel language?” I asked. + +“Oh yes. That’s quite an easy language,” said the Doctor. “You could +learn that yourself without a great deal of trouble. But why do you +ask?” + +“Because I have a sick squirrel at home,” I said. “I took it away from +a hawk. But two of its legs are badly hurt and I wanted very much to +have you see it, if you would. Shall I bring it to-morrow?” + +“Well, if its leg is badly broken I think I had better see it to-night. +It may be too late to do much; but I’ll come home with you and take a +look at it.” + +So presently we felt the clothes by the fire and mine were found to be +quite dry. I took them upstairs to the bedroom and changed, and when I +came down the Doctor was all ready waiting for me with his little black +bag full of medicines and bandages. + +“Come along,” he said. “The rain has stopped now.” + +Outside it had grown bright again and the evening sky was all red with +the setting sun; and thrushes were singing in the garden as we opened +the gate to go down on to the road. + + + + +_THE FIFTH CHAPTER_ + +POLYNESIA + + +“I THINK your house is the most interesting house I was ever in,” I +said as we set off in the direction of the town. “May I come and see +you again to-morrow?” + +“Certainly,” said the Doctor. “Come any day you like. To-morrow I’ll +show you the garden and my private zoo.” + +“Oh, have you a zoo?” I asked. + +“Yes,” said he. “The larger animals are too big for the house, so I +keep them in a zoo in the garden. It is not a very big collection but +it is interesting in its way.” + +“It must be splendid,” I said, “to be able to talk all the languages of +the different animals. Do you think I could ever learn to do it?” + +“Oh surely,” said the Doctor—“with practise. You have to be very +patient, you know. You really ought to have Polynesia to start you. It +was she who gave me my first lessons.” + +“Who is Polynesia?” I asked. + +“Polynesia was a West African parrot I had. She isn’t with me any more +now,” said the Doctor sadly. + +“Why—is she dead?” + +“Oh no,” said the Doctor. “She is still living, I hope. But when we +reached Africa she seemed so glad to get back to her own country. She +wept for joy. And when the time came for me to come back here I had not +the heart to take her away from that sunny land—although, it is true, +she did offer to come. I left her in Africa—Ah well! I have missed her +terribly. She wept again when we left. But I think I did the right +thing. She was one of the best friends I ever had. It was she who +first gave me the idea of learning the animal languages and becoming +an animal doctor. I often wonder if she remained happy in Africa, and +whether I shall ever see her funny, old, solemn face again—Good old +Polynesia!—A most extraordinary bird—Well, well!” + +Just at that moment we heard the noise of some one running behind us; +and turning round we saw Jip the dog rushing down the road after us, +as fast as his legs could bring him. He seemed very excited about +something, and as soon as he came up to us, he started barking and +whining to the Doctor in a peculiar way. Then the Doctor too seemed to +get all worked up and began talking and making queer signs to the dog. +At length he turned to me, his face shining with happiness. + +“Polynesia has come back!” he cried. “Imagine it. Jip says she has just +arrived at the house. My! And it’s five years since I saw her—Excuse +me a minute.” + +He turned as if to go back home. But the parrot, Polynesia, was already +flying towards us. The Doctor clapped his hands like a child getting +a new toy; while the swarm of sparrows in the roadway fluttered, +gossiping, up on to the fences, highly scandalized to see a gray and +scarlet parrot skimming down an English lane. + +On she came, straight on to the Doctor’s shoulder, where she +immediately began talking a steady stream in a language I could not +understand. She seemed to have a terrible lot to say. And very soon +the Doctor had forgotten all about me and my squirrel and Jip and +everything else; till at length the bird clearly asked him something +about me. + +“Oh excuse me, Stubbins!” said the Doctor. “I was so interested +listening to my old friend here. We must get on and see this squirrel +of yours—Polynesia, this is Thomas Stubbins.” + +The parrot, on the Doctor’s shoulder, nodded gravely towards me and +then, to my great surprise, said quite plainly in English, + +“How do you do? I remember the night you were born. It was a terribly +cold winter. You were a very ugly baby.” + +“Stubbins is anxious to learn animal language,” said the Doctor. “I was +just telling him about you and the lessons you gave me when Jip ran up +and told us you had arrived.” + +“Well,” said the parrot, turning to me, “I may have started the Doctor +learning but I never could have done even that, if he hadn’t first +taught me to understand what _I_ was saying when I spoke English. +You see, many parrots can talk like a person, but very few of them +understand what they are saying. They just say it because—well, because +they fancy it is smart or, because they know they will get crackers +given them.” + +By this time we had turned and were going towards my home with Jip +running in front and Polynesia still perched on the Doctor’s shoulder. +The bird chattered incessantly, mostly about Africa; but now she spoke +in English, out of politeness to me. + +“How is Prince Bumpo getting on?” asked the Doctor. + +“Oh, I’m glad you asked me,” said Polynesia. “I almost forgot to tell +you. What do you think?—_Bumpo is in England!_” + +“In England!—You don’t say!” cried the Doctor. “What on earth is he +doing here?” + +“His father, the king, sent him here to a place called—er—Bullford, I +think it was—to study lessons.” + +“Bullford!—Bullford!” muttered the Doctor. “I never heard of the +place—Oh, you mean Oxford.” + +“Yes, that’s the place—Oxford,” said Polynesia “I knew it had cattle in +it somewhere. Oxford—that’s the place he’s gone to.” + +“Well, well,” murmured the Doctor. “Fancy Bumpo studying at +Oxford—Well, well!” + +“There were great doings in Jolliginki when he left. He was scared to +death to come. He was the first man from that country to go abroad. He +thought he was going to be eaten by white cannibals or something. You +know what those niggers are—that ignorant! Well!—But his father made +him come. He said that all the black kings were sending their sons to +Oxford now. It was the fashion, and he would have to go. Bumpo wanted +to bring his six wives with him. But the king wouldn’t let him do that +either. Poor Bumpo went off in tears—and everybody in the palace was +crying too. You never heard such a hullabaloo.” + +“Do you know if he ever went back in search of The Sleeping Beauty?” +asked the Doctor. + +“Oh yes,” said Polynesia—“the day after you left. And a good thing for +him he did: the king got to know about his helping you to escape; and +he was dreadfully wild about it.” + +“And The Sleeping Beauty?—did he ever find her?” + +“Well, he brought back something which he _said_ was The Sleeping +Beauty. Myself, I think it was an albino niggeress. She had red hair +and the biggest feet you ever saw. But Bumpo was no end pleased with +her and finally married her amid great rejoicings. The feastings lasted +seven days. She became his chief wife and is now known out there as the +Crown-Princess Bum_pah_—you accent the last syllable.” + +“And tell me, did he remain white?” + +“Only for about three months,” said the parrot. “After that his face +slowly returned to its natural color. It was just as well. He was so +conspicuous in his bathing-suit the way he was, with his face white and +the rest of him black.” + +“And how is Chee-Chee getting on?—Chee-Chee,” added the Doctor in +explanation to me, “was a pet monkey I had years ago. I left him too in +Africa when I came away.” + +“Well,” said Polynesia frowning,—“Chee-Chee is not entirely happy. I +saw a good deal of him the last few years. He got dreadfully homesick +for you and the house and the garden. It’s funny, but I was just the +same way myself. You remember how crazy I was to get back to the dear +old land? And Africa _is_ a wonderful country—I don’t care what anybody +says. Well, I thought I was going to have a perfectly grand time. But +somehow—I don’t know—after a few weeks it seemed to get tiresome. I +just couldn’t seem to settle down. Well, to make a long story short, +one night I made up my mind that I’d come back here and find you. So +I hunted up old Chee-Chee and told him about it. He said he didn’t +blame me a bit—felt exactly the same way himself. Africa was so deadly +quiet after the life we had led with you. He missed the stories you +used to tell us out of your animal books—and the chats we used to have +sitting round the kitchen-fire on winter nights. The animals out there +were very nice to us and all that. But somehow the dear kind creatures +seemed a bit stupid. Chee-Chee said he had noticed it too. But I +suppose it wasn’t they who had changed; it was we who were different. +When I left, poor old Chee-Chee broke down and cried. He said he felt +as though his only friend were leaving him—though, as you know, he has +simply millions of relatives there. He said it didn’t seem fair that I +should have wings to fly over here any time I liked, and him with no +way to follow me. But mark my words, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if +he found a way to come—some day. He’s a smart lad, is Chee-Chee.” + +At this point we arrived at my home. My father’s shop was closed and +the shutters were up; but my mother was standing at the door looking +down the street. + +“Good evening, Mrs. Stubbins,” said the Doctor. “It is my fault your +son is so late. I made him stay to supper while his clothes were +drying. He was soaked to the skin; and so was I. We ran into one +another in the storm and I insisted on his coming into my house for +shelter.” + +“I was beginning to get worried about him,” said my mother. “I am +thankful to you, Sir, for looking after him so well and bringing him +home.” + +“Don’t mention it—don’t mention it,” said the Doctor. “We have had a +very interesting chat.” + +“Who might it be that I have the honor of addressing?” asked my mother +staring at the gray parrot perched on the Doctor’s shoulder. + +“Oh, I’m John Dolittle. I dare say your husband will remember me. He +made me some very excellent boots about four years ago. They really +are splendid,” added the Doctor, gazing down at his feet with great +satisfaction. + +“The Doctor has come to cure my squirrel, Mother,” said I. “He knows +all about animals.” + +“Oh, no,” said the Doctor, “not all, Stubbins, not all about them by +any means.” + +“It is very kind of you to come so far to look after his pet,” said my +mother. “Tom is always bringing home strange creatures from the woods +and the fields.” + +“Is he?” said the Doctor. “Perhaps he will grow up to be a naturalist +some day. Who knows?” + +“Won’t you come in?” asked my mother. “The place is a little untidy +because I haven’t finished the spring cleaning yet. But there’s a nice +fire burning in the parlor.” + +“Thank you!” said the Doctor. “What a charming home you have!” + +And after wiping his enormous boots very, very carefully on the mat, +the great man passed into the house. + + + + +_THE SIXTH CHAPTER_ + +THE WOUNDED SQUIRREL + + +INSIDE we found my father busy practising on the flute beside the fire. +This he always did, every evening, after his work was over. + +The Doctor immediately began talking to him about flutes and piccolos +and bassoons; and presently my father said, + +“Perhaps you perform upon the flute yourself, Sir. Won’t you play us a +tune?” + +“Well,” said the Doctor, “it is a long time since I touched the +instrument. But I would like to try. May I?” + +Then the Doctor took the flute from my father and played and played and +played. It was wonderful. My mother and father sat as still as statues, +staring up at the ceiling as though they were in church; and even I, +who didn’t bother much about music except on the mouth-organ—even I +felt all sad and cold and creepy and wished I had been a better boy. + +“Oh I think that was just beautiful!” sighed my mother when at length +the Doctor stopped. + +“You are a great musician, Sir,” said my father, “a very great +musician. Won’t you please play us something else?” + +“Why certainly,” said the Doctor—“Oh, but look here, I’ve forgotten all +about the squirrel.” + +“I’ll show him to you,” I said. “He is upstairs in my room.” + +So I led the Doctor to my bedroom at the top of the house and showed +him the squirrel in the packing-case filled with straw. + +The animal, who had always seemed very much afraid of me—though I had +tried hard to make him feel at home, sat up at once when the Doctor +came into the room and started to chatter. The Doctor chattered back +in the same way and the squirrel when he was lifted up to have his leg +examined, appeared to be rather pleased than frightened. + +I held a candle while the Doctor tied the leg up in what he called +“splints,” which he made out of match-sticks with his pen-knife. + +“I think you will find that his leg will get better now in a very short +time,” said the Doctor closing up his bag. “Don’t let him run about for +at least two weeks yet, but keep him in the open air and cover him up +with dry leaves if the nights get cool. He tells me he is rather lonely +here, all by himself, and is wondering how his wife and children are +getting on. I have assured him you are a man to be trusted; and I will +send a squirrel who lives in my garden to find out how his family are +and to bring him news of them. He must be kept cheerful at all costs. +Squirrels are naturally a very cheerful, active race. It is very hard +for them to lie still doing nothing. But you needn’t worry about him. +He will be all right.” + +Then we went back again to the parlor and my mother and father kept him +playing the flute till after ten o’clock. + +Although my parents both liked the Doctor tremendously from the first +moment that they saw him, and were very proud to have him come and play +to us (for we were really terribly poor) they did not realize then +what a truly great man he was one day to become. Of course now, when +almost everybody in the whole world has heard about Doctor Dolittle and +his books, if you were to go to that little house in Puddleby where +my father had his cobbler’s shop you would see, set in the wall over +the old-fashioned door, a stone with writing on it which says: “JOHN +DOLITTLE, THE FAMOUS NATURALIST, PLAYED THE FLUTE IN THIS HOUSE IN THE +YEAR 1839.” + +I often look back upon that night long, long ago. And if I close my +eyes and think hard I can see that parlor just as it was then: a funny +little man in coat-tails, with a round kind face, playing away on the +flute in front of the fire; my mother on one side of him and my father +on the other, holding their breath and listening with their eyes shut; +myself, with Jip, squatting on the carpet at his feet, staring into the +coals; and Polynesia perched on the mantlepiece beside his shabby high +hat, gravely swinging her head from side to side in time to the music. +I see it all, just as though it were before me now. + +And then I remember how, after we had seen the Doctor out at the front +door, we all came back into the parlor and talked about him till it +was still later; and even after I did go to bed (I had never stayed up +so late in my life before) I dreamed about him and a band of strange +clever animals that played flutes and fiddles and drums the whole night +through. + + + + +_THE SEVENTH CHAPTER_ + +SHELLFISH TALK + + +THE next morning, although I had gone to bed so late the night before, +I was up frightfully early. The first sparrows were just beginning to +chirp sleepily on the slates outside my attic window when I jumped out +of bed and scrambled into my clothes. + +I could hardly wait to get back to the little house with the big +garden—to see the Doctor and his private zoo. For the first time in +my life I forgot all about breakfast; and creeping down the stairs on +tip-toe, so as not to wake my mother and father, I opened the front +door and popped out into the empty, silent street. + +When I got to the Doctor’s gate I suddenly thought that perhaps it was +too early to call on any one: and I began to wonder if the Doctor would +be up yet. I looked into the garden. No one seemed to be about. So I +opened the gate quietly and went inside. + +As I turned to the left to go down a path between some hedges, I heard +a voice quite close to me say, + +“Good morning. How early you are!” + +I turned around, and there, sitting on the top of a privet hedge, was +the gray parrot, Polynesia. + +“Good morning,” I said. “I suppose I am rather early. Is the Doctor +still in bed?” + +“Oh no,” said Polynesia. “He has been up an hour and a half. You’ll +find him in the house somewhere. The front door is open. Just push it +and go in. He is sure to be in the kitchen cooking breakfast—or working +in his study. Walk right in. I am waiting to see the sun rise. But +upon my word I believe it’s forgotten to rise. It is an awful climate, +this. Now if we were in Africa the world would be blazing with sunlight +at this hour of the morning. Just see that mist rolling over those +cabbages. It is enough to give you rheumatism to look at it. Beastly +climate—Beastly! Really I don’t know why anything but frogs ever stay +in England—Well, don’t let me keep you. Run along and see the Doctor.” + +“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll go and look for him.” + +When I opened the front door I could smell bacon frying, so I made my +way to the kitchen. There I discovered a large kettle boiling away over +the fire and some bacon and eggs in a dish upon the hearth. It seemed +to me that the bacon was getting all dried up with the heat. So I +pulled the dish a little further away from the fire and went on through +the house looking for the Doctor. + +I found him at last in the Study. I did not know then that it was +called the Study. It was certainly a very interesting room, with +telescopes and microscopes and all sorts of other strange things which +I did not understand about but wished I did. Hanging on the walls were +pictures of animals and fishes and strange plants and collections of +birds’ eggs and sea-shells in glass cases. + +The Doctor was standing at the main table in his dressing-gown. At +first I thought he was washing his face. He had a square glass box +before him full of water. He was holding one ear under the water while +he covered the other with his left hand. As I came in he stood up. + +“Good morning, Stubbins,” said he. “Going to be a nice day, don’t +you think? I’ve just been listening to the Wiff-Waff. But he is very +disappointing—very.” + +“Why?” I said. “Didn’t you find that he has any language at all?” + +“Oh yes,” said the Doctor, “he has a language. But it is such a poor +language—only a few words, like ‘yes’ and ‘no’—‘hot’ and ‘cold.’ That’s +all he can say. It’s very disappointing. You see he really belongs +to two different families of fishes. I thought he was going to be +tremendously helpful—Well, well!” + +“I suppose,” said I, “that means he hasn’t very much sense—if his +language is only two or three words?” + +“Yes, I suppose it does. Possibly it is the kind of life he leads. +You see, they are very rare now, these Wiff-Waffs—very rare and very +solitary. They swim around in the deepest parts of the ocean entirely +by themselves—always alone. So I presume they really don’t need to talk +much.” + +“Perhaps some kind of a bigger shellfish would talk more,” I said. +“After all, he is very small, isn’t he?” + +“Yes,” said the Doctor, “that’s true. Oh I have no doubt that there +are shellfish who are good talkers—not the least doubt. But the big +shellfish—the biggest of them, are so hard to catch. They are only to +be found in the deep parts of the sea; and as they don’t swim very +much, but just crawl along the floor of the ocean most of the time, +they are very seldom taken in nets. I do wish I could find some way of +going down to the bottom of the sea. I could learn a lot if I could +only do that. But we are forgetting all about breakfast—Have you had +breakfast yet, Stubbins?” + +I told the Doctor that I had forgotten all about it and he at once led +the way into the kitchen. + +“Yes,” he said, as he poured the hot water from the kettle into the +tea-pot, “if a man could only manage to get right down to the bottom +of the sea, and live there a while, he would discover some wonderful +things—things that people have never dreamed of.” + +“But men do go down, don’t they?” I asked—“divers and people like that?” + +“Oh yes, to be sure,” said the Doctor. “Divers go down. I’ve been down +myself in a diving-suit, for that matter. But my!—they only go where +the sea is shallow. Divers can’t go down where it is really deep. What +I would like to do is to go down to the great depths—where it is miles +deep—Well, well, I dare say I shall manage it some day. Let me give you +another cup of tea.” + + + + +_THE EIGHTH CHAPTER_ + +ARE YOU A GOOD NOTICER? + + +JUST at that moment Polynesia came into the room and said something to +the Doctor in bird language. Of course I did not understand what it +was. But the Doctor at once put down his knife and fork and left the +room. + +“You know it is an awful shame,” said the parrot as soon as the Doctor +had closed the door. “Directly he comes back home, all the animals +over the whole countryside get to hear of it and every sick cat and +mangy rabbit for miles around comes to see him and ask his advice. Now +there’s a big fat hare outside at the back door with a squawking baby. +Can she see the Doctor, please!—Thinks it’s going to have convulsions. +Stupid little thing’s been eating Deadly Nightshade again, I suppose. +The animals are _so_ inconsiderate at times—especially the mothers. +They come round and call the Doctor away from his meals and wake him +out of his bed at all hours of the night. I don’t know how he stands +it—really I don’t. Why, the poor man never gets any peace at all! I’ve +told him time and again to have special hours for the animals to come. +But he is so frightfully kind and considerate. He never refuses to see +them if there is anything really wrong with them. He says the urgent +cases must be seen at once.” + +“Why don’t some of the animals go and see the other doctors?” I asked. + +“Oh Good Gracious!” exclaimed the parrot, tossing her head scornfully. +“Why, there aren’t any other animal-doctors—not real doctors. Oh of +course there _are_ those vet persons, to be sure. But, bless you, +they’re no good. You see, they can’t understand the animals’ language; +so how can you expect them to be any use? Imagine yourself, or your +father, going to see a doctor who could not understand a word you +say—nor even tell you in your own language what you must do to get +well! Poof!—those vets! They’re that stupid, you’ve no idea!—Put the +Doctor’s bacon down by the fire, will you?—to keep hot till he comes +back.” + +“Do you think I would ever be able to learn the language of the +animals?” I asked, laying the plate upon the hearth. + +“Well, it all depends,” said Polynesia. “Are you clever at lessons?” + +“I don’t know,” I answered, feeling rather ashamed. “You see, I’ve +never been to school. My father is too poor to send me.” + +“Well,” said the parrot, “I don’t suppose you have really missed +much—to judge from what _I_ have seen of school-boys. But listen: are +you a good noticer?—Do you notice things well? I mean, for instance, +supposing you saw two cock-starlings on an apple-tree, and you only +took one good look at them—would you be able to tell one from the other +if you saw them again the next day?” + +“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve never tried.” + +“Well that,” said Polynesia, brushing some crumbs off the corner +of the table with her left foot—“that is what you call powers of +observation—noticing the small things about birds and animals: the way +they walk and move their heads and flip their wings; the way they sniff +the air and twitch their whiskers and wiggle their tails. You have to +notice all those little things if you want to learn animal language. +For you see, lots of the animals hardly talk at all with their tongues; +they use their breath or their tails or their feet instead. That is +because many of them, in the olden days when lions and tigers were more +plentiful, were afraid to make a noise for fear the savage creatures +heard them. Birds, of course, didn’t care; for they always had wings to +fly away with. But that is the first thing to remember: being a good +noticer is terribly important in learning animal language.” + +“It sounds pretty hard,” I said. + +“You’ll have to be very patient,” said Polynesia. “It takes a long +time to say even a few words properly. But if you come here often +I’ll give you a few lessons myself. And once you get started you’ll +be surprised how fast you get on. It would indeed be a good thing if +you could learn. Because then you could do some of the work for the +Doctor—I mean the easier work, like bandaging and giving pills. Yes, +yes, that’s a good idea of mine. ’Twould be a great thing if the poor +man could get some help—and some rest. It is a scandal the way he +works. I see no reason why you shouldn’t be able to help him a great +deal—That is, if you are really interested in animals.” + +[Illustration: “‘Being a good noticer is terribly important’”] + +“Oh, I’d love that!” I cried. “Do you think the Doctor would let me?” + +“Certainly,” said Polynesia—“as soon as you have learned something +about doctoring. I’ll speak of it to him myself—Sh! I hear him coming. +Quick—bring his bacon back on to the table.” + + + + +_THE NINTH CHAPTER_ + +THE GARDEN OF DREAMS + + +WHEN breakfast was over the Doctor took me out to show me the garden. +Well, if the house had been interesting, the garden was a hundred +times more so. Of all the gardens I have ever seen that was the most +delightful, the most fascinating. At first you did not realize how big +it was. You never seemed to come to the end of it. When at last you +were quite sure that you had seen it all, you would peer over a hedge, +or turn a corner, or look up some steps, and there was a whole new part +you never expected to find. + +It had everything—everything a garden can have, or ever has had. There +were wide, wide lawns with carved stone seats, green with moss. Over +the lawns hung weeping-willows, and their feathery bough-tips brushed +the velvet grass when they swung with the wind. The old flagged paths +had high, clipped, yew hedges either side of them, so that they looked +like the narrow streets of some old town; and through the hedges, +doorways had been made; and over the doorways were shapes like vases +and peacocks and half-moons all trimmed out of the living trees. There +was a lovely marble fish-pond with golden carp and blue water-lilies in +it and big green frogs. A high brick wall alongside the kitchen garden +was all covered with pink and yellow peaches ripening in the sun. There +was a wonderful great oak, hollow in the trunk, big enough for four men +to hide inside. Many summer-houses there were, too—some of wood and +some of stone; and one of them was full of books to read. In a corner, +among some rocks and ferns, was an outdoor fire-place, where the Doctor +used to fry liver and bacon when he had a notion to take his meals in +the open air. There was a couch as well on which he used to sleep, it +seems, on warm summer nights when the nightingales were singing at +their best; it had wheels on it so it could be moved about under any +tree they sang in. But the thing that fascinated me most of all was a +tiny little tree-house, high up in the top branches of a great elm, +with a long rope ladder leading to it. The Doctor told me he used it +for looking at the moon and the stars through a telescope. + +It was the kind of a garden where you could wander and explore for days +and days—always coming upon something new, always glad to find the old +spots over again. That first time that I saw the Doctor’s garden I was +so charmed by it that I felt I would like to live in it—always and +always—and never go outside of it again. For it had everything within +its walls to give happiness, to make living pleasant—to keep the heart +at peace. It was the Garden of Dreams. + +One peculiar thing I noticed immediately I came into it; and that was +what a lot of birds there were about. Every tree seemed to have two or +three nests in it. And heaps of other wild creatures appeared to be +making themselves at home there, too. Stoats and tortoises and dormice +seemed to be quite common, and not in the least shy. Toads of different +colors and sizes hopped about the lawn as though it belonged to them. +Green lizards (which were very rare in Puddleby) sat up on the stones +in the sunlight and blinked at us. Even snakes were to be seen. + +“You need not be afraid of them,” said the Doctor, noticing that I +started somewhat when a large black snake wiggled across the path right +in front of us. “These fellows are not poisonous. They do a great deal +of good in keeping down many kinds of garden-pests. I play the flute to +them sometimes in the evening. They love it. Stand right up on their +tails and carry on no end. Funny thing, their taste for music.” + +“Why do all these animals come and live here?” I asked. “I never saw a +garden with so many creatures in it.” + +“Well, I suppose it’s because they get the kind of food they like; and +nobody worries or disturbs them. And then, of course, they know me. And +if they or their children get sick I presume they find it handy to be +living in a doctor’s garden—Look! You see that sparrow on the sundial, +swearing at the blackbird down below? Well, he has been coming here +every summer for years. He comes from London. The country sparrows +round about here are always laughing at him. They say he chirps with +such a Cockney accent. He is a most amusing bird—very brave but very +cheeky. He loves nothing better than an argument, but he always ends it +by getting rude. He is a real city bird. In London he lives around St. +Paul’s Cathedral. ‘Cheapside,’ we call him.” + +“Are all these birds from the country round here?” I asked. + +“Most of them,” said the Doctor. “But a few rare ones visit me every +year who ordinarily never come near England at all. For instance, +that handsome little fellow hovering over the snapdragon there, he’s +a Ruby-throated Humming-bird. Comes from America. Strictly speaking, +he has no business in this climate at all. It is too cool. I make him +sleep in the kitchen at night. Then every August, about the last week +of the month, I have a Purple Bird-of-Paradise come all the way from +Brazil to see me. She is a very great swell. Hasn’t arrived yet of +course. And there are a few others, foreign birds from the tropics +mostly, who drop in on me in the course of the summer months. But come, +I must show you the zoo.” + + + + +_THE TENTH CHAPTER_ + +THE PRIVATE ZOO + + +I DID not think there could be anything left in that garden which we +had not seen. But the Doctor took me by the arm and started off down a +little narrow path and after many windings and twistings and turnings +we found ourselves before a small door in a high stone wall. The Doctor +pushed it open. + +Inside was still another garden. I had expected to find cages with +animals inside them. But there were none to be seen. Instead there were +little stone houses here and there all over the garden; and each house +had a window and a door. As we walked in, many of these doors opened +and animals came running out to us evidently expecting food. + +“Haven’t the doors any locks on them?” I asked the Doctor. + +“Oh yes,” he said, “every door has a lock. But in my zoo the doors open +from the inside, not from the out. The locks are only there so the +animals can go and shut themselves _in_ any time they want to get away +from the annoyance of other animals or from people who might come here. +Every animal in this zoo stays here because he likes it, not because +he is made to.” + +“They all look very happy and clean,” I said. “Would you mind telling +me the names of some of them?” + +“Certainly. Well now: that funny-looking thing with plates on his back, +nosing under the brick over there, is a South American armadillo. The +little chap talking to him is a Canadian woodchuck. They both live in +those holes you see at the foot of the wall. The two little beasts +doing antics in the pond are a pair of Russian minks—and that reminds +me: I must go and get them some herrings from the town before noon—it +is early-closing to-day. That animal just stepping out of his house is +an antelope, one of the smaller South African kinds. Now let us move to +the other side of those bushes there and I will show you some more.” + +“Are those deer over there?” I asked. + +“_Deer!_” said the Doctor. “Where do you mean?” + +“Over there,” I said, pointing—“nibbling the grass border of the bed. +There are two of them.” + +“Oh, that,” said the Doctor with a smile. “That isn’t two animals: +that’s one animal with two heads—the only two-headed animal in the +world. It’s called the ‘pushmi-pullyu.’ I brought him from Africa. He’s +very tame—acts as a kind of night-watchman for my zoo. He only sleeps +with one head at a time, you see—very handy—the other head stays awake +all night.” + +“Have you any lions or tigers?” I asked as we moved on. + +“No,” said the Doctor. “It wouldn’t be possible to keep them here—and +I wouldn’t keep them even if I could. If I had my way, Stubbins, there +wouldn’t be a single lion or tiger in captivity anywhere in the world. +They never take to it. They’re never happy. They never settle down. +They are always thinking of the big countries they have left behind. +You can see it in their eyes, dreaming—dreaming always of the great +open spaces where they were born; dreaming of the deep, dark jungles +where their mothers first taught them how to scent and track the deer. +And what are they given in exchange for all this?” asked the Doctor, +stopping in his walk and growing all red and angry—“What are they given +in exchange for the glory of an African sunrise, for the twilight +breeze whispering through the palms, for the green shade of the matted, +tangled vines, for the cool, big-starred nights of the desert, for the +patter of the waterfall after a hard day’s hunt? What, I ask you, are +they given in exchange for _these_? Why, a bare cage with iron bars; an +ugly piece of dead meat thrust in to them once a day; and a crowd of +fools to come and stare at them with open mouths!—No, Stubbins. Lions +and tigers, the Big Hunters, should never, never be seen in zoos.” + +The Doctor seemed to have grown terribly serious—almost sad. But +suddenly his manner changed again and he took me by the arm with his +same old cheerful smile. + +“But we haven’t seen the butterfly-houses yet—nor the aquariums. Come +along. I am very proud of my butterfly-houses.” + +Off we went again and came presently into a hedged enclosure. Here I +saw several big huts made of fine wire netting, like cages. Inside the +netting all sorts of beautiful flowers were growing in the sun, with +butterflies skimming over them. The Doctor pointed to the end of one of +the huts where little boxes with holes in them stood in a row. + +“Those are the hatching-boxes,” said he. “There I put the different +kinds of caterpillars. And as soon as they turn into butterflies and +moths they come out into these flower-gardens to feed.” + +“Do butterflies have a language?” I asked. + +“Oh I fancy they have,” said the Doctor—“and the beetles too. But so +far I haven’t succeeded in learning much about insect languages. I have +been too busy lately trying to master the shellfish-talk. I mean to +take it up though.” + +At that moment Polynesia joined us and said, “Doctor, there are two +guinea-pigs at the back door. They say they have run away from the boy +who kept them because they didn’t get the right stuff to eat. They want +to know if you will take them in.” + +“All right,” said the Doctor. “Show them the way to the zoo. Give them +the house on the left, near the gate—the one the black fox had. Tell +them what the rules are and give them a square meal—Now, Stubbins, we +will go on to the aquariums. And first of all I must show you my big, +glass, sea-water tank where I keep the shellfish.” + + + + +_THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER_ + +MY SCHOOLMASTER, POLYNESIA + + +WELL, there were not many days after that, you may be sure, when I did +not come to see my new friend. Indeed I was at his house practically +all day and every day. So that one evening my mother asked me jokingly +why I did not take my bed over there and live at the Doctor’s house +altogether. + +After a while I think I got to be quite useful to the Doctor, feeding +his pets for him; helping to make new houses and fences for the zoo; +assisting with the sick animals that came; doing all manner of odd jobs +about the place. So that although I enjoyed it all very much (it was +indeed like living in a new world) I really think the Doctor would have +missed me if I had not come so often. + +And all this time Polynesia came with me wherever I went, teaching me +bird language and showing me how to understand the talking signs of the +animals. At first I thought I would never be able to learn at all—it +seemed so difficult. But the old parrot was wonderfully patient with +me—though I could see that occasionally she had hard work to keep her +temper. + +Soon I began to pick up the strange chatter of the birds and to +understand the funny talking antics of the dogs. I used to practise +listening to the mice behind the wainscot after I went to bed, and +watching the cats on the roofs and pigeons in the market-square of +Puddleby. + +And the days passed very quickly—as they always do when life is +pleasant; and the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months; and +soon the roses in the Doctor’s garden were losing their petals and +yellow leaves lay upon the wide green lawn. For the summer was nearly +gone. + +One day Polynesia and I were talking in the library. This was a fine +long room with a grand mantlepiece and the walls were covered from the +ceiling to the floor with shelves full of books: books of stories, +books on gardening, books about medicine, books of travel; these I +loved—and especially the Doctor’s great atlas with all its maps of the +different countries of the world. + +This afternoon Polynesia was showing me the books about animals which +John Dolittle had written himself. + +“My!” I said, “what a lot of books the Doctor has—all the way around +the room! Goodness! I wish I could read! It must be tremendously +interesting. Can you read, Polynesia?” + +“Only a little,” said she. “Be careful how you turn those pages—don’t +tear them. No, I really don’t get time enough for reading—much. That +letter there is a _k_ and this is a _b_.” + +“What does this word under the picture mean?” I asked. + +“Let me see,” she said, and started spelling it out. +“B-A-B-O-O-N—that’s _Monkey_. Reading isn’t nearly as hard as it looks, +once you know the letters.” + +“Polynesia,” I said, “I want to ask you something very important.” + +“What is it, my boy?” said she, smoothing down the feathers of her +right wing. Polynesia often spoke to me in a very patronizing way. But +I did not mind it from her. After all, she was nearly two hundred years +old; and I was only ten. + +“Listen,” I said, “my mother doesn’t think it is right that I come +here for so many meals. And I was going to ask you: supposing I did a +whole lot more work for the Doctor—why couldn’t I come and live here +altogether? You see, instead of being paid like a regular gardener or +workman, I would get my bed and meals in exchange for the work I did. +What do you think?” + +“You mean you want to be a proper assistant to the Doctor, is that it?” + +“Yes. I suppose that’s what you call it,” I answered. “You know you +said yourself that you thought I could be very useful to him.” + +“Well”—she thought a moment—“I really don’t see why not. But is this +what you want to be when you grow up, a naturalist?” + +“Yes,” I said, “I have made up my mind. I would sooner be a naturalist +than anything else in the world.” + +“Humph!—Let’s go and speak to the Doctor about it,” said Polynesia. +“He’s in the next room—in the study. Open the door very gently—he may +be working and not want to be disturbed.” + +I opened the door quietly and peeped in. The first thing I saw was an +enormous black retriever dog sitting in the middle of the hearth-rug +with his ears cocked up, listening to the Doctor who was reading aloud +to him from a letter. + +“What _is_ the Doctor doing?” I asked Polynesia in a whisper. + +“Oh, the dog has had a letter from his mistress and he has brought it +to the Doctor to read for him. That’s all. He belongs to a funny little +girl called Minnie Dooley, who lives on the other side of the town. She +has pigtails down her back. She and her brother have gone away to the +seaside for the Summer; and the old retriever is heart-broken while the +children are gone. So they write letters to him—in English of course. +And as the old dog doesn’t understand them, he brings them here, +and the Doctor turns them into dog language for him. I think Minnie +must have written that she is coming back—to judge from the dog’s +excitement. Just look at him carrying on!” + +Indeed the retriever seemed to be suddenly overcome with joy. As the +Doctor finished the letter the old dog started barking at the top of +his voice, wagging his tail wildly and jumping about the study. He +took the letter in his mouth and ran out of the room snorting hard and +mumbling to himself. + +“He’s going down to meet the coach,” whispered Polynesia. “That dog’s +devotion to those children is more than I can understand. You should +see Minnie! She’s the most conceited little minx that ever walked. She +squints too.” + + + + +_THE TWELFTH CHAPTER_ + +MY GREAT IDEA + + +PRESENTLY the Doctor looked up and saw us at the door. + +“Oh—come in, Stubbins,” said he, “did you wish to speak to me? Come in +and take a chair.” + +“Doctor,” I said, “I want to be a naturalist—like you—when I grow up.” + +“Oh you do, do you?” murmured the Doctor. “Humph!—Well!—Dear me!—You +don’t say!—Well, well! Have you er—have you spoken to your mother and +father about it?” + +“No, not yet,” I said. “I want you to speak to them for me. You would +do it better. I want to be your helper—your assistant, if you’ll have +me. Last night my mother was saying that she didn’t consider it right +for me to come here so often for meals. And I’ve been thinking about it +a good deal since. Couldn’t we make some arrangement—couldn’t I work +for my meals and sleep here?” + +“But my dear Stubbins,” said the Doctor, laughing, “you are quite +welcome to come here for three meals a day all the year round. I’m only +too glad to have you. Besides, you do do a lot of work, as it is. I’ve +often felt that I ought to pay you for what you do—But what arrangement +was it that you thought of?” + +“Well, I thought,” said I, “that perhaps you would come and see my +mother and father and tell them that if they let me live here with you +and work hard, that you will teach me to read and write. You see my +mother is awfully anxious to have me learn reading and writing. And +besides, I couldn’t be a proper naturalist without, could I?” + +“Oh, I don’t know so much about that,” said the Doctor. “It is nice, I +admit, to be able to read and write. But naturalists are not all alike, +you know. For example: this young fellow Charles Darwin that people are +talking about so much now—he’s a Cambridge graduate—reads and writes +very well. And then Cuvier—he used to be a tutor. But listen, the +greatest naturalist of them all doesn’t even know how to write his own +name nor to read the _A B C_.” + +“Who is he?” I asked. + +“He is a mysterious person,” said the Doctor—“a very mysterious person. +His name is Long Arrow, the son of Golden Arrow. He is a Red Indian.” + +“Have you ever seen him?” I asked. + +“No,” said the Doctor, “I’ve never seen him. No white man has ever met +him. I fancy Mr. Darwin doesn’t even know that he exists. He lives +almost entirely with the animals and with the different tribes of +Indians—usually somewhere among the mountains of Peru. Never stays long +in one place. Goes from tribe to tribe, like a sort of Indian tramp.” + +“How do you know so much about him?” I asked—“if you’ve never even seen +him?” + +“The Purple Bird-of-Paradise,” said the Doctor—“she told me all about +him. She says he is a perfectly marvelous naturalist. I got her to take +a message to him for me last time she was here. I am expecting her back +any day now. I can hardly wait to see what answer she has brought from +him. It is already almost the last week of August. I do hope nothing +has happened to her on the way.” + +“But why do the animals and birds come to you when they are sick?” I +said—“Why don’t they go to him, if he is so very wonderful?” + +“It seems that my methods are more up to date,” said the Doctor. “But +from what the Purple Bird-of-Paradise tells me, Long Arrow’s knowledge +of natural history must be positively tremendous. His specialty is +botany—plants and all that sort of thing. But he knows a lot about +birds and animals too. He’s very good on bees and beetles—But now +tell me, Stubbins, are you quite sure that you really want to be a +naturalist?” + +“Yes,” said I, “my mind is made up.” + +“Well you know, it isn’t a very good profession for making money. Not +at all, it isn’t. Most of the good naturalists don’t make any money +whatever. All they do is _spend_ money, buying butterfly-nets and +cases for birds’ eggs and things. It is only now, after I have been a +naturalist for many years, that I am beginning to make a little money +from the books I write.” + +“I don’t care about money,” I said. “I want to be a naturalist. +Won’t you please come and have dinner with my mother and father next +Thursday—I told them I was going to ask you—and then you can talk to +them about it. You see, there’s another thing: if I’m living with you, +and sort of belong to your house and business, I shall be able to come +with you next time you go on a voyage.” + +“Oh, I see,” said he, smiling. “So you want to come on a voyage with +me, do you?—Ah hah!” + +“I want to go on all your voyages with you. It would be much easier +for you if you had someone to carry the butterfly-nets and note-books. +Wouldn’t it now?” + +For a long time the Doctor sat thinking, drumming on the desk with his +fingers, while I waited, terribly impatiently, to see what he was going +to say. + +At last he shrugged his shoulders and stood up. + +“Well, Stubbins,” said he, “I’ll come and talk it over with you and +your parents next Thursday. And—well, we’ll see. We’ll see. Give your +mother and father my compliments and thank them for their invitation, +will you?” + +Then I tore home like the wind to tell my mother that the Doctor had +promised to come. + + + + +_THE THIRTEENTH CHAPTER_ + +A TRAVELER ARRIVES + + +THE next day I was sitting on the wall of the Doctor’s garden after +tea, talking to Dab-Dab. I had now learned so much from Polynesia that +I could talk to most birds and some animals without a great deal of +difficulty. I found Dab-Dab a very nice, old, motherly bird—though not +nearly so clever and interesting as Polynesia. She had been housekeeper +for the Doctor many years now. + +Well, as I was saying, the old duck and I were sitting on the flat top +of the garden-wall that evening, looking down into the Oxenthorpe Road +below. We were watching some sheep being driven to market in Puddleby; +and Dab-Dab had just been telling me about the Doctor’s adventures in +Africa. For she had gone on a voyage with him to that country long ago. + +Suddenly I heard a curious distant noise down the road, towards the +town. It sounded like a lot of people cheering. I stood up on the wall +to see if I could make out what was coming. Presently there appeared +round a bend a great crowd of school-children following a very ragged, +curious-looking woman. + +“What in the world can it be?” cried Dab-Dab. + +The children were all laughing and shouting. And certainly the woman +they were following was most extraordinary. She had very long arms and +the most stooping shoulders I have ever seen. She wore a straw hat on +the side of her head with poppies on it; and her skirt was so long for +her it dragged on the ground like a ball-gown’s train. I could not see +anything of her face because of the wide hat pulled over her eyes. But +as she got nearer to us and the laughing of the children grew louder, +I noticed that her hands were very dark in color, and hairy, like a +witch’s. + +Then all of a sudden Dab-Dab at my side startled me by crying out in a +loud voice, + +“Why, it’s Chee-Chee!—Chee-Chee come back at last! How dare those +children tease him! I’ll give the little imps something to laugh at!” + +And she flew right off the wall down into the road and made straight +for the children, squawking away in a most terrifying fashion and +pecking at their feet and legs. The children made off down the street +back to the town as hard as they could run. + +The strange-looking figure in the straw hat stood gazing after them a +moment and then came wearily up to the gate. It didn’t bother to undo +the latch but just climbed right over the gate as though it were +something in the way. And then I noticed that it took hold of the bars +with its feet, so that it really had four hands to climb with. But it +was only when I at last got a glimpse of the face under the hat that I +could be really sure it was a monkey. + +[Illustration: A traveler arrives] + +Chee-Chee—for it was he—frowned at me suspiciously from the top of the +gate, as though he thought I was going to laugh at him like the other +boys and girls. Then he dropped into the garden on the inside and +immediately started taking off his clothes. He tore the straw hat in +two and threw it down into the road. Then he took off his bodice and +skirt, jumped on them savagely and began kicking them round the front +garden. + +Presently I heard a screech from the house, and out flew Polynesia, +followed by the Doctor and Jip. + +“Chee-Chee!—Chee-Chee!” shouted the parrot. “You’ve come at last! I +always told the Doctor you’d find a way. How ever did you do it?” + +They all gathered round him shaking him by his four hands, laughing and +asking him a million questions at once. Then they all started back for +the house. + +“Run up to my bedroom, Stubbins,” said the Doctor, turning to me. +“You’ll find a bag of peanuts in the small left-hand drawer of the +bureau. I have always kept them there in case he might come back +unexpectedly some day. And wait a minute—see if Dab-Dab has any bananas +in the pantry. Chee-Chee hasn’t had a banana, he tells me, in two +months.” + +When I came down again to the kitchen I found everybody listening +attentively to the monkey who was telling the story of his journey from +Africa. + + + + +_THE FOURTEENTH CHAPTER_ + +CHEE-CHEE’S VOYAGE + + +It seems that after Polynesia had left, Chee-Chee had grown more +homesick than ever for the Doctor and the little house in Puddleby. At +last he had made up his mind that by hook or crook he would follow her. +And one day, going down to the seashore, he saw a lot of people, black +and white, getting on to a ship that was coming to England. He tried to +get on too. But they turned him back and drove him away. And presently +he noticed a whole big family of funny people passing on to the ship. +And one of the children in this family reminded Chee-Chee of a cousin +of his with whom he had once been in love. So he said to himself, “That +girl looks just as much like a monkey as I look like a girl. If I +could only get some clothes to wear I might easily slip on to the ship +amongst these families, and people would take me for a girl. Good idea!” + +So he went off to a town that was quite close, and hopping in through +an open window he found a skirt and bodice lying on a chair. They +belonged to a fashionable black lady who was taking a bath. Chee-Chee +put them on. Next he went back to the seashore, mingled with the crowd +there and at last sneaked safely on to the big ship. Then he thought he +had better hide, for fear people might look at him too closely. And he +stayed hidden all the time the ship was sailing to England—only coming +out at night, when everybody was asleep, to find food. + +When he reached England and tried to get off the ship, the sailors saw +at last that he was only a monkey dressed up in girl’s clothes; and +they wanted to keep him for a pet. But he managed to give them the +slip; and once he was on shore, he dived into the crowd and got away. +But he was still a long distance from Puddleby and had to come right +across the whole breadth of England. + +He had a terrible time of it. Whenever he passed through a town all the +children ran after him in a crowd, laughing; and often silly people +caught hold of him and tried to stop him, so that he had to run up +lamp-posts and climb to chimney-pots to escape from them. At night +he used to sleep in ditches or barns or anywhere he could hide; and +he lived on the berries he picked from the hedges and the cob-nuts +that grew in the copses. At length, after many adventures and narrow +squeaks, he saw the tower of Puddleby Church and he knew that at last +he was near his old home. + +When Chee-Chee had finished his story he ate six bananas without +stopping and drank a whole bowlful of milk. + +“My!” he said, “why wasn’t I born with wings, like Polynesia, so I +could fly here? You’ve no idea how I grew to hate that hat and skirt. +I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my life. All the way from Bristol +here, if the wretched hat wasn’t falling off my head or catching in the +trees, those beastly skirts were tripping me up and getting wound round +everything. What on earth do women wear those things for? Goodness, I +was glad to see old Puddleby this morning when I climbed over the hill +by Bellaby’s farm!” + +“Your bed on top of the plate-rack in the scullery is all ready for +you,” said the Doctor. “We never had it disturbed in case you might +come back.” + +“Yes,” said Dab-Dab, “and you can have the old smoking-jacket of the +Doctor’s which you used to use as a blanket, in case it is cold in the +night.” + +“Thanks,” said Chee-Chee. “It’s good to be back in the old house again. +Everything’s just the same as when I left—except the clean roller-towel +on the back of the door there—that’s new—Well, I think I’ll go to bed +now. I need sleep.” + +Then we all went out of the kitchen into the scullery and watched +Chee-Chee climb the plate-rack like a sailor going up a mast. On the +top, he curled himself up, pulled the old smoking-jacket over him, and +in a minute he was snoring peacefully. + +“Good old Chee-Chee!” whispered the Doctor. “I’m glad he’s back.” + +“Yes—good old Chee-Chee!” echoed Dab-Dab and Polynesia. + +Then we all tip-toed out of the scullery and closed the door very +gently behind us. + + + + +_THE FIFTEENTH CHAPTER_ + +I BECOME A DOCTOR’S ASSISTANT + + +WHEN Thursday evening came there was great excitement at our house. +My mother had asked me what were the Doctor’s favorite dishes, and I +had told her: spare ribs, sliced beet-root, fried bread, shrimps and +treacle-tart. To-night she had them all on the table waiting for him; +and she was now fussing round the house to see if everything was tidy +and in readiness for his coming. + +At last we heard a knock upon the door, and of course it was I who got +there first to let him in. + +The Doctor had brought his own flute with him this time. And after +supper was over (which he enjoyed very much) the table was cleared away +and the washing-up left in the kitchen-sink till the next day. Then the +Doctor and my father started playing duets. + +They got so interested in this that I began to be afraid that they +would never come to talking over my business. But at last the Doctor +said, + +“Your son tells me that he is anxious to become a naturalist.” + +And then began a long talk which lasted far into the night. At first +both my mother and father were rather against the idea—as they had been +from the beginning. They said it was only a boyish whim, and that I +would get tired of it very soon. But after the matter had been talked +over from every side, the Doctor turned to my father and said, + +“Well now, supposing, Mr. Stubbins, that your son came to me for two +years—that is, until he is twelve years old. During those two years he +will have time to see if he is going to grow tired of it or not. Also +during that time, I will promise to teach him reading and writing and +perhaps a little arithmetic as well. What do you say to that?” + +“I don’t know,” said my father, shaking his head. “You are very kind +and it is a handsome offer you make, Doctor. But I feel that Tommy +ought to be learning some trade by which he can earn his living later +on.” + +Then my mother spoke up. Although she was nearly in tears at the +prospect of my leaving her house while I was still so young, she +pointed out to my father that this was a grand chance for me to get +learning. + +“Now Jacob,” she said, “you know that many lads in the town have been +to the Grammar School till they were fourteen or fifteen years old. +Tommy can easily spare these two years for his education; and if he +learns no more than to read and write, the time will not be lost. +Though goodness knows,” she added, getting out her handkerchief to cry, +“the house will seem terribly empty when he’s gone.” + +“I will take care that he comes to see you, Mrs. Stubbins,” said the +Doctor—“every day, if you like. After all, he will not be very far +away.” + +Well, at length my father gave in; and it was agreed that I was to live +with the Doctor and work for him for two years in exchange for learning +to read and write and for my board and lodging. + +“Of course,” added the Doctor, “while I have money I will keep Tommy in +clothes as well. But money is a very irregular thing with me; sometimes +I have some, and then sometimes I haven’t.” + +“You are very good, Doctor,” said my mother, drying her tears. “It +seems to me that Tommy is a very fortunate boy.” + +And then, thoughtless, selfish little imp that I was, I leaned over and +whispered in the Doctor’s ear, + +“Please don’t forget to say something about the voyages.” + +“Oh, by the way,” said John Dolittle, “of course occasionally my work +requires me to travel. You will have no objection, I take it, to your +son’s coming with me?” + +My poor mother looked up sharply, more unhappy and anxious than ever +at this new turn; while I stood behind the Doctor’s chair, my heart +thumping with excitement, waiting for my father’s answer. + +“No,” he said slowly after a while. “If we agree to the other +arrangement I don’t see that we’ve the right to make any objection to +that.” + +Well, there surely was never a happier boy in the world than I was at +that moment. My head was in the clouds. I trod on air. I could scarcely +keep from dancing round the parlor. At last the dream of my life was to +come true! At last I was to be given a chance to seek my fortune, to +have adventures! For I knew perfectly well that it was now almost time +for the Doctor to start upon another voyage. Polynesia had told me that +he hardly ever stayed at home for more than six months at a stretch. +Therefore he would be surely going again within a fortnight. And I—I, +Tommy Stubbins, would go with him! Just to think of it!—to cross the +Sea, to walk on foreign shores, to roam the World! + +[Illustration] + + + + +PART TWO + +_THE FIRST CHAPTER_ + +THE CREW OF “THE CURLEW” + + +FROM that time on of course my position in the town was very different. +I was no longer a poor cobbler’s son. I carried my nose in the air as +I went down the High Street with Jip in his gold collar at my side; +and snobbish little boys who had despised me before because I was not +rich enough to go to school now pointed me out to their friends and +whispered, “You see him? He’s a doctor’s assistant—and only ten years +old!” + +But their eyes would have opened still wider with wonder if they had +but known that I and the dog that was with me could talk to one another. + +Two days after the Doctor had been to our house to dinner he told me +very sadly that he was afraid that he would have to give up trying to +learn the language of the shellfish—at all events for the present. + +“I’m very discouraged, Stubbins, very. I’ve tried the mussels and +the clams, the oysters and the whelks, cockles and scallops; seven +different kinds of crabs and all the lobster family. I think I’ll +leave it for the present and go at it again later on.” + +“What will you turn to now?” I asked. + +“Well, I rather thought of going on a voyage, Stubbins. It’s quite +a time now since I’ve been away. And there is a great deal of work +waiting for me abroad.” + +“When shall we start?” I asked. + +“Well, first I shall have to wait till the Purple Bird-of-Paradise gets +here. I must see if she has any message for me from Long Arrow. She’s +late. She should have been here ten days ago. I hope to goodness she’s +all right.” + +“Well, hadn’t we better be seeing about getting a boat?” I said. “She +is sure to be here in a day or so; and there will be lots of things to +do to get ready in the mean time, won’t there?” + +“Yes, indeed,” said the Doctor. “Suppose we go down and see your friend +Joe, the mussel-man. He will know about boats.” + +“I’d like to come too,” said Jip. + +“All right, come along,” said the Doctor, and off we went. + +Joe said yes, he had a boat—one he had just bought—but it needed three +people to sail her. We told him we would like to see it anyway. + +So the mussel-man took us off a little way down the river and showed +us the neatest, prettiest, little vessel that ever was built. She was +called _The Curlew_. Joe said he would sell her to us cheap. But the +trouble was that the boat needed three people, while we were only two. + +“Of course I shall be taking Chee-Chee,” said the Doctor. “But although +he is very quick and clever, he is not as strong as a man. We really +ought to have another person to sail a boat as big as that.” + +“I know of a good sailor, Doctor,” said Joe—“a first-class seaman who +would be glad of the job.” + +“No, thank you, Joe,” said Doctor Dolittle. “I don’t want any seamen. +I couldn’t afford to hire them. And then they hamper me so, seamen do, +when I’m at sea. They’re always wanting to do things the proper way; +and I like to do them _my_ way—Now let me see: who could we take with +us?” + +“There’s Matthew Mugg, the cat’s-meat-man,” I said. + +“No, he wouldn’t do. Matthew’s a very nice fellow, but he talks too +much—mostly about his rheumatism. You have to be frightfully particular +whom you take with you on long voyages.” + +“How about Luke the Hermit?” I asked. + +“That’s a good idea—splendid—if he’ll come. Let’s go and ask him right +away.” + + + + +_THE SECOND CHAPTER_ + +LUKE THE HERMIT + + +THE Hermit was an old friend of ours, as I have already told you. He +was a very peculiar person. Far out on the marshes he lived in a little +bit of a shack—all alone except for his brindle bulldog. No one knew +where he came from—not even his name. Just “Luke the Hermit” folks +called him. He never came into the town; never seemed to want to see +or talk to people. His dog, Bob, drove them away if they came near his +hut. When you asked anyone in Puddleby who he was or why he lived out +in that lonely place by himself, the only answer you got was, “Oh, Luke +the Hermit? Well, there’s some mystery about him. Nobody knows what it +is. But there’s a mystery. Don’t go near him. He’ll set the dog on you.” + +Nevertheless there were two people who often went out to that little +shack on the fens: the Doctor and myself. And Bob, the bulldog, never +barked when he heard us coming. For we liked Luke; and Luke liked us. + +This afternoon, crossing the marshes we faced a cold wind blowing from +the East. As we approached the hut Jip put up his ears and said, + +“That’s funny!” + +“What’s funny?” asked the Doctor. + +“That Bob hasn’t come out to meet us. He should have heard us long +ago—or smelt us. What’s that queer noise?” + +“Sounds to me like a gate creaking,” said the Doctor. “Maybe it’s +Luke’s door, only we can’t see the door from here; it’s on the far side +of the shack.” + +“I hope Bob isn’t sick,” said Jip; and he let out a bark to see if that +would call him. But the only answer he got was the wailing of the wind +across the wide, salt fen. + +We hurried forward, all three of us thinking hard. + +When we reached the front of the shack we found the door open, swinging +and creaking dismally in the wind. We looked inside. There was no one +there. + +“Isn’t Luke at home then?” said I. “Perhaps he’s out for a walk.” + +“He is _always_ at home,” said the Doctor frowning in a peculiar sort +of way. “And even if he were out for a walk he wouldn’t leave his +door banging in the wind behind him. There is something queer about +this—What are you doing in there, Jip?” + +“Nothing much—nothing worth speaking of,” said Jip examining the floor +of the hut extremely carefully. + +“Come here, Jip,” said the Doctor in a stern voice. “You are hiding +something from me. You see signs and you know something—or you guess +it. What has happened? Tell me. Where is the Hermit?” + +“I don’t know,” said Jip looking very guilty and uncomfortable. “I +don’t know where he is.” + +“Well, you know something. I can tell it from the look in your eye. +What is it?” + +But Jip didn’t answer. + +For ten minutes the Doctor kept questioning him. But not a word would +the dog say. + +“Well,” said the Doctor at last, “it is no use our standing around here +in the cold. The Hermit’s gone. That’s all. We might as well go home to +luncheon.” + +As we buttoned up our coats and started back across the marsh, Jip ran +ahead pretending he was looking for water-rats. + +“He knows something all right,” whispered the Doctor. “And I think he +knows what has happened too. It’s funny, his not wanting to tell me. He +has never done that before—not in eleven years. He has always told me +everything—Strange—very strange!” + +“Do you mean you think he knows all about the Hermit, the big mystery +about him which folks hint at and all that?” + +“I shouldn’t wonder if he did,” the Doctor answered slowly. “I noticed +something in his expression the moment we found that door open and the +hut empty. And the way he sniffed the floor too—it told him something, +that floor did. He saw signs we couldn’t see—I wonder why he won’t tell +me. I’ll try him again. Here, Jip! Jip!—Where is the dog? I thought he +went on in front.” + +“So did I,” I said. “He was there a moment ago. I saw him as large as +life. Jip—Jip—Jip—JIP!” + +But he was gone. We called and called. We even walked back to the hut. +But Jip had disappeared. + +“Oh well,” I said, “most likely he has just run home ahead of us. He +often does that, you know. We’ll find him there when we get back to the +house.” + +But the Doctor just closed his coat-collar tighter against the wind and +strode on muttering, “Odd—very odd!” + + + + +_THE THIRD CHAPTER_ + +JIP AND THE SECRET + + +WHEN we reached the house the first question the Doctor asked of +Dab-Dab in the hall was, + +“Is Jip home yet?” + +“No,” said Dab-Dab, “I haven’t seen him.” + +“Let me know the moment he comes in, will you, please?” said the +Doctor, hanging up his hat. + +“Certainly I will,” said Dab-Dab. “Don’t be long over washing your +hands; the lunch is on the table.” + +Just as we were sitting down to luncheon in the kitchen we heard a +great racket at the front door. I ran and opened it. In bounded Jip. + +“Doctor!” he cried, “come into the library quick. I’ve got something +to tell you—No, Dab-Dab, the luncheon must wait. Please hurry, Doctor. +There’s not a moment to be lost. Don’t let any of the animals come—just +you and Tommy.” + +“Now,” he said, when we were inside the library and the door was +closed, “turn the key in the lock and make sure there’s no one +listening under the windows.” + +“It’s all right,” said the Doctor. “Nobody can hear you here. Now what +is it?” + +“Well, Doctor,” said Jip (he was badly out of breath from running), “I +know all about the Hermit—I have known for years. But I couldn’t tell +you.” + +“Why?” asked the Doctor. + +“Because I’d promised not to tell any one. It was Bob, his dog, that +told me. And I swore to him that I would keep the secret.” + +“Well, and are you going to tell me now?” + +“Yes,” said Jip, “we’ve got to save him. I followed Bob’s scent just +now when I left you out there on the marshes. And I found him. And I +said to him, ‘Is it all right,’ I said, ‘for me to tell the Doctor now? +Maybe he can do something.’ And Bob says to me, ‘Yes,’ says he, ‘it’s +all right because—’” + +“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, go on, go on!” cried the Doctor. “Tell us what +the mystery is—not what you said to Bob and what Bob said to you. What +has happened? Where _is_ the Hermit?” + +“He’s in Puddleby Jail,” said Jip. “He’s in prison.” + +“In prison!” + +“Yes.” + +“What for?—What’s he done?” + +Jip went over to the door and smelt at the bottom of it to see if any +one were listening outside. Then he came back to the Doctor on tiptoe +and whispered, + +“_He killed a man!_” + +“Lord preserve us!” cried the Doctor, sitting down heavily in a chair +and mopping his forehead with a handkerchief. “When did he do it?” + +“Fifteen years ago—in a Mexican gold-mine. That’s why he has been a +hermit ever since. He shaved off his beard and kept away from people +out there on the marshes so he wouldn’t be recognized. But last week, +it seems these new-fangled policemen came to Town; and they heard there +was a strange man who kept to himself all alone in a shack on the +fen. And they got suspicious. For a long time people had been hunting +all over the world for the man that did that killing in the Mexican +gold-mine fifteen years ago. So these policemen went out to the shack, +and they recognized Luke by a mole on his arm. And they took him to +prison.” + +“Well, well!” murmured the Doctor. “Who would have thought it?—Luke, +the philosopher!—Killed a man!—I can hardly believe it.” + +“It’s true enough—unfortunately,” said Jip. “Luke did it. But it +wasn’t his fault. Bob says so. And he was there and saw it all. He was +scarcely more than a puppy at the time. Bob says Luke couldn’t help it. +He _had_ to do it.” + +“Where is Bob now?” asked the Doctor. + +“Down at the prison. I wanted him to come with me here to see you; but +he won’t leave the prison while Luke is there. He just sits outside the +door of the prison-cell and won’t move. He doesn’t even eat the food +they give him. Won’t you please come down there, Doctor, and see if +there is anything you can do? The trial is to be this afternoon at two +o’clock. What time is it now?” + +“It’s ten minutes past one.” + +“Bob says he thinks they are going to kill Luke for a punishment if +they can prove that he did it—or certainly keep him in prison for the +rest of his life. Won’t you please come? Perhaps if you spoke to the +judge and told him what a good man Luke really is they’d let him off.” + +“Of course I’ll come,” said the Doctor getting up and moving to go. +“But I’m very much afraid that I shan’t be of any real help.” He turned +at the door and hesitated thoughtfully. + +“And yet—I wonder—” + +Then he opened the door and passed out with Jip and me close at his +heels. + + + + +_THE FOURTH CHAPTER_ + +BOB + + +DAB-DAB was terribly upset when she found we were going away again +without luncheon; and she made us take some cold pork-pies in our +pockets to eat on the way. + +When we got to Puddleby Court-house (it was next door to the prison), +we found a great crowd gathered around the building. + +This was the week of the Assizes—a business which happened every three +months, when many pick-pockets and other bad characters were tried by +a very grand judge who came all the way from London. And anybody in +Puddleby who had nothing special to do used to come to the Court-house +to hear the trials. + +But to-day it was different. The crowd was not made up of just a few +idle people. It was enormous. The news had run through the countryside +that Luke the Hermit was to be tried for killing a man and that the +great mystery which had hung over him so long was to be cleared up +at last. The butcher and the baker had closed their shops and taken +a holiday. All the farmers from round-about, and all the townsfolk, +were there with their Sunday clothes on, trying to get seats in the +Court-house or gossipping outside in low whispers. The High Street was +so crowded you could hardly move along it. I had never seen the quiet +old town in such a state of excitement before. For Puddleby had not had +such an Assizes since 1799, when Ferdinand Phipps, the Rector’s oldest +son, had robbed the bank. + +If I hadn’t had the Doctor with me I am sure I would never have been +able to make my way through the mob packed around the Court-house door. +But I just followed behind him, hanging on to his coat-tails; and at +last we got safely into the jail. + +“I want to see Luke,” said the Doctor to a very grand person in a blue +coat with brass buttons standing at the door. + +“Ask at the Superintendent’s office,” said the man. “Third door on the +left down the corridor.” + +“Who is that person you spoke to, Doctor?” I asked as we went along the +passage. + +“He is a policeman.” + +“And what are policemen?” + +“Policemen? They are to keep people in order. They’ve just been +invented—by Sir Robert Peel. That’s why they are also called ‘peelers’ +sometimes. It is a wonderful age we live in. They’re always thinking of +something new—This will be the Superintendent’s office, I suppose.” + +[Illustration: “On the bed sat the Hermit”] + +From there another policeman was sent with us to show us the way. + +Outside the door of Luke’s cell we found Bob, the bulldog, who wagged +his tail sadly when he saw us. The man who was guiding us took a large +bunch of keys from his pocket and opened the door. + +I had never been inside a real prison-cell before; and I felt quite +a thrill when the policeman went out and locked the door after him, +leaving us shut in the dimly-lighted, little, stone room. Before he +went, he said that as soon as we had done talking with our friend we +should knock upon the door and he would come and let us out. + +At first I could hardly see anything, it was so dim inside. But after +a little I made out a low bed against the wall, under a small barred +window. On the bed, staring down at the floor between his feet, sat the +Hermit, his head resting in his hands. + +“Well, Luke,” said the Doctor in a kindly voice, “they don’t give you +much light in here, do they?” + +Very slowly the Hermit looked up from the floor. + +“Hulloa, John Dolittle. What brings you here?” + +“I’ve come to see you. I would have been here sooner, only I didn’t +hear about all this till a few minutes ago. I went to your hut to ask +you if you would join me on a voyage; and when I found it empty I had +no idea where you could be. I am dreadfully sorry to hear about your +bad luck. I’ve come to see if there is anything I can do.” + +Luke shook his head. + +“No, I don’t imagine there is anything can be done. They’ve caught me +at last. That’s the end of it, I suppose.” + +He got up stiffly and started walking up and down the little room. + +“In a way I’m glad it’s over,” said he. “I never got any peace, always +thinking they were after me—afraid to speak to anyone. They were bound +to get me in the end—Yes, I’m glad it’s over.” + +Then the Doctor talked to Luke for more than half an hour, trying to +cheer him up; while I sat around wondering what I ought to say and +wishing I could do something. + +At last the Doctor said he wanted to see Bob; and we knocked upon the +door and were let out by the policeman. + +“Bob,” said the Doctor to the big bulldog in the passage, “come out +with me into the porch. I want to ask you something.” + +“How is he, Doctor?” asked Bob as we walked down the corridor into the +Court-house porch. + +“Oh, Luke’s all right. Very miserable of course, but he’s all right. +Now tell me, Bob: you saw this business happen, didn’t you? You were +there when the man was killed, eh?” + +“I was, Doctor,” said Bob, “and I tell you—” + +“All right,” the Doctor interrupted, “that’s all I want to know for the +present. There isn’t time to tell me more now. The trial is just going +to begin. There are the judge and the lawyers coming up the steps. Now +listen, Bob: I want you to stay with me when I go into the court-room. +And whatever I tell you to do, do it. Do you understand? Don’t make +any scenes. Don’t bite anybody, no matter what they may say about +Luke. Just behave perfectly quietly and answer any question I may ask +you—truthfully. Do you understand?” + +“Very well. But do you think you will be able to get him off, Doctor?” +asked Bob. “He’s a good man, Doctor. He really is. There never was a +better.” + +“We’ll see, we’ll see, Bob. It’s a new thing I’m going to try. I’m not +sure the judge will allow it. But—well, we’ll see. It’s time to go +into the court-room now. Don’t forget what I told you. Remember: for +Heaven’s sake don’t start biting any one or you’ll get us all put out +and spoil everything.” + + + + +_THE FIFTH CHAPTER_ + +MENDOZA + + +INSIDE the court-room everything was very solemn and wonderful. It was +a high, big room. Raised above the floor, against the wall was the +Judge’s desk; and here the judge was already sitting—an old, handsome +man in a marvelous big wig of gray hair and a gown of black. Below him +was another wide, long desk at which lawyers in white wigs sat. The +whole thing reminded me of a mixture between a church and a school. + +“Those twelve men at the side,” whispered the Doctor—“those in pews +like a choir, they are what is called the jury. It is they who decide +whether Luke is guilty—whether he did it or not.” + +“And look!” I said, “there’s Luke himself in a sort of pulpit-thing +with policemen each side of him. And there’s another pulpit, the same +kind, the other side of the room, see—only that one’s empty.” + +“That one is called the witness-box,” said the Doctor. “Now I’m going +down to speak to one of those men in white wigs; and I want you to wait +here and keep these two seats for us. Bob will stay with you. Keep an +eye on him—better hold on to his collar. I shan’t be more than a minute +or so.” + +With that the Doctor disappeared into the crowd which filled the main +part of the room. + +Then I saw the judge take up a funny little wooden hammer and knock on +his desk with it. This, it seemed, was to make people keep quiet, for +immediately every one stopped buzzing and talking and began to listen +very respectfully. Then another man in a black gown stood up and began +reading from a paper in his hand. + +He mumbled away exactly as though he were saying his prayers and didn’t +want any one to understand what language they were in. But I managed to +catch a few words: + +“_Biz—biz—biz—biz—biz_—otherwise known as Luke the +Hermit, of—_biz—biz—biz—biz_—for killing his partner +with—_biz—biz—biz_—otherwise known as Bluebeard Bill on the night +of the—_biz—biz—biz_—in the _biz—biz—biz_—of Mexico. Therefore Her +Majesty’s—_biz—biz—biz_—” + +At this moment I felt some one take hold of my arm from the back, and +turning round I found the Doctor had returned with one of the men in +white wigs. + +“Stubbins, this is Mr. Percy Jenkyns,” said the Doctor. “He is Luke’s +lawyer. It is his business to get Luke off—if he can.” + +Mr. Jenkyns seemed to be an extremely young man with a round smooth +face like a boy. He shook hands with me and then immediately turned and +went on talking with the Doctor. + +“Oh, I think it is a perfectly precious idea,” he was saying. “Of +_course_ the dog must be admitted as a witness; he was the only one +who saw the thing take place. I’m awfully glad you came. I wouldn’t +have missed this for anything. My hat! Won’t it make the old court sit +up? They’re always frightfully dull, these Assizes. But this will stir +things. A bulldog witness for the defense! I do hope there are plenty +of reporters present—Yes, there’s one making a sketch of the prisoner. +I shall become known after this—And won’t Conkey be pleased? My hat!” + +He put his hand over his mouth to smother a laugh and his eyes fairly +sparkled with mischief. + +“Who is Conkey?” I asked the Doctor. + +“Sh! He is speaking of the judge up there, the Honorable Eustace +Beauchamp Conckley.” + +“Now,” said Mr. Jenkyns, bringing out a note-book, “tell me a little +more about yourself, Doctor. You took your degree as Doctor of Medicine +at Durham, I think you said. And the name of your last book was?” + +I could not hear any more for they talked in whispers; and I fell to +looking round the court again. + +Of course I could not understand everything that was going on, though +it was all very interesting. People kept getting up in the place the +Doctor called the witness-box, and the lawyers at the long table asked +them questions about “the night of the 29th.” Then the people would get +down again and somebody else would get up and be questioned. + +One of the lawyers (who, the Doctor told me afterwards, was called the +Prosecutor) seemed to be doing his best to get the Hermit into trouble +by asking questions which made it look as though he had always been a +very bad man. He was a nasty lawyer, this Prosecutor, with a long nose. + +Most of the time I could hardly keep my eyes off poor Luke, who sat +there between his two policemen, staring at the floor as though he +weren’t interested. The only time I saw him take any notice at all was +when a small dark man with wicked, little, watery eyes got up into the +witness-box. I heard Bob snarl under my chair as this person came into +the court-room and Luke’s eyes just blazed with anger and contempt. + +This man said his name was Mendoza and that he was the one who had +guided the Mexican police to the mine after Bluebeard Bill had been +killed. And at every word he said I could hear Bob down below me +muttering between his teeth, + +“It’s a lie! It’s a lie! I’ll chew his face. It’s a lie!” + +And both the Doctor and I had hard work keeping the dog under the seat. + +Then I noticed that our Mr. Jenkyns had disappeared from the Doctor’s +side. But presently I saw him stand up at the long table to speak to +the judge. + +“Your Honor,” said he, “I wish to introduce a new witness for the +defense, Doctor John Dolittle, the naturalist. Will you please step +into the witness-stand, Doctor?” + +There was a buzz of excitement as the Doctor made his way across the +crowded room; and I noticed the nasty lawyer with the long nose lean +down and whisper something to a friend, smiling in an ugly way which +made me want to pinch him. + +Then Mr. Jenkyns asked the Doctor a whole lot of questions about +himself and made him answer in a loud voice so the whole court could +hear. He finished up by saying, + +“And you are prepared to swear, Doctor Dolittle, that you understand +the language of dogs and can make them understand you. Is that so?” + +“Yes,” said the Doctor, “that is so.” + +“And what, might I ask,” put in the judge in a very quiet, dignified +voice, “has all this to do with the killing of er—er—Bluebeard Bill?” + +“This, Your Honor,” said Mr. Jenkyns, talking in a very grand manner as +though he were on a stage in a theatre: “there is in this court-room +at the present moment a bulldog, who was the only living thing that +saw the man killed. With the Court’s permission I propose to put that +dog in the witness-stand and have him questioned before you by the +eminent scientist, Doctor John Dolittle.” + + + + +_THE SIXTH CHAPTER_ + +THE JUDGE’S DOG + + +AT first there was a dead silence in the Court. Then everybody began +whispering or giggling at the same time, till the whole room sounded +like a great hive of bees. Many people seemed to be shocked; most of +them were amused; and a few were angry. + +Presently up sprang the nasty lawyer with the long nose. + +“I protest, Your Honor,” he cried, waving his arms wildly to the judge. +“I object. The dignity of this court is in peril. I protest.” + +“I am the one to take care of the dignity of this court,” said the +judge. + +Then Mr. Jenkyns got up again. (If it hadn’t been such a serious +matter, it was almost like a Punch-and-Judy show: somebody was always +popping down and somebody else popping up). + +“If there is any doubt on the score of our being able to do as we say, +Your Honor will have no objection, I trust, to the Doctor’s giving the +Court a demonstration of his powers—of showing that he actually can +understand the speech of animals?” + +I thought I saw a twinkle of amusement come into the old judge’s eyes +as he sat considering a moment before he answered. + +“No,” he said at last, “I don’t think so.” Then he turned to the Doctor. + +“Are you quite sure you can do this?” he asked. + +“Quite, Your Honor,” said the Doctor—“quite sure.” + +“Very well then,” said the judge. “If you can satisfy us that you +really are able to understand canine testimony, the dog shall be +admitted as a witness. I do not see, in that case, how I could object +to his being heard. But I warn you that if you are trying to make a +laughing-stock of this Court it will go hard with you.” + +“I protest, I protest!” yelled the long-nosed Prosecutor. “This is a +scandal, an outrage to the Bar!” + +“Sit down!” said the judge in a very stern voice. + +“What animal does Your Honor wish me to talk with?” asked the Doctor. + +“I would like you to talk to my own dog,” said the judge. “He is +outside in the cloak-room. I will have him brought in; and then we +shall see what you can do.” + +Then someone went out and fetched the judge’s dog, a lovely great +Russian wolf-hound with slender legs and a shaggy coat. He was a proud +and beautiful creature. + +“Now, Doctor,” said the judge, “did you ever see this dog +before?—Remember you are in the witness-stand and under oath.” + +“No, Your Honor, I never saw him before.” + +“Very well then, will you please ask him to tell you what I had for +supper last night? He was with me and watched me while I ate.” + +Then the Doctor and the dog started talking to one another in signs and +sounds; and they kept at it for quite a long time. And the Doctor began +to giggle and get so interested that he seemed to forget all about the +Court and the judge and everything else. + +“What a time he takes!” I heard a fat woman in front of me whispering. +“He’s only pretending. Of course he can’t do it! Who ever heard of +talking to a dog? He must think we’re children.” + +“Haven’t you finished yet?” the judge asked the Doctor. “It shouldn’t +take that long just to ask what I had for supper.” + +“Oh no, Your Honor,” said the Doctor. “The dog told me that long ago. +But then he went on to tell me what you did after supper.” + +“Never mind that,” said the judge. “Tell me what answer he gave you to +my question.” + +“He says you had a mutton-chop, two baked potatoes, a pickled walnut +and a glass of ale.” + +The Honorable Eustace Beauchamp Conckley went white to the lips. + +“Sounds like witchcraft,” he muttered. “I never dreamed—” + +“And after your supper,” the Doctor went on, “he says you went to see a +prize-fight and then sat up playing cards for money till twelve o’clock +and came home singing, ‘We won’t get—’” + +“That will do,” the judge interrupted, “I am satisfied you can do as +you say. The prisoner’s dog shall be admitted as a witness.” + +“I protest, I object!” screamed the Prosecutor. “Your Honor, this is—” + +“Sit down!” roared the judge. “I say the dog shall be heard. That ends +the matter. Put the witness in the stand.” + +And then for the first time in the solemn history of England a dog was +put in the witness-stand of Her Majesty’s Court of Assizes. And it +was I, Tommy Stubbins (when the Doctor made a sign to me across the +room) who proudly led Bob up the aisle, through the astonished crowd, +past the frowning, spluttering, long-nosed Prosecutor, and made him +comfortable on a high chair in the witness-box; from where the old +bulldog sat scowling down over the rail upon the amazed and gaping +jury. + +[Illustration: “Sat scowling down upon the amazed and gaping jury”] + + + + +_THE SEVENTH CHAPTER_ + +THE END OF THE MYSTERY + + +THE trial went swiftly forward after that. Mr. Jenkyns told the Doctor +to ask Bob what he saw on the “night of the 29th;” and when Bob had +told all he knew and the Doctor had turned it into English for the +judge and the jury, this was what he had to say: + +“On the night of the 29th of November, 1824, I was with my master, Luke +Fitzjohn (otherwise known as Luke the Hermit) and his two partners, +Manuel Mendoza and William Boggs (otherwise known as Bluebeard Bill) +on their gold-mine in Mexico. For a long time these three men had been +hunting for gold; and they had dug a deep hole in the ground. On the +morning of the 29th gold was discovered, lots of it, at the bottom of +this hole. And all three, my master and his two partners, were very +happy about it because now they would be rich. But Manuel Mendoza asked +Bluebeard Bill to go for a walk with him. These two men I had always +suspected of being bad. So when I noticed that they left my master +behind, I followed them secretly to see what they were up to. And in a +deep cave in the mountains I heard them arrange together to kill Luke +the Hermit so that they should get all the gold and he have none.” + +At this point the judge asked, “Where is the witness Mendoza? +Constable, see that he does not leave the court.” + +But the wicked little man with the watery eyes had already sneaked out +when no one was looking and he was never seen in Puddleby again. + +“Then,” Bob’s statement went on, “I went to my master and tried very +hard to make him understand that his partners were dangerous men. But +it was no use. He did not understand dog language. So I did the next +best thing: I never let him out of my sight but stayed with him every +moment of the day and night. + +“Now the hole that they had made was so deep that to get down and up +it you had to go in a big bucket tied on the end of a rope; and the +three men used to haul one another up and let one another down the mine +in this way. That was how the gold was brought up too—in the bucket. +Well, about seven o’clock in the evening my master was standing at the +top of the mine, hauling up Bluebeard Bill who was in the bucket. Just +as he had got Bill halfway up I saw Mendoza come out of the hut where +we all lived. Mendoza thought that Bill was away buying groceries. But +he wasn’t: he was in the bucket. And when Mendoza saw Luke hauling and +straining on the rope he thought he was pulling up a bucketful of +gold. So he drew a pistol from his pocket and came sneaking up behind +Luke to shoot him. + +“I barked and barked to warn my master of the danger he was in; but he +was so busy hauling up Bill (who was a heavy fat man) that he took no +notice of me. I saw that if I didn’t do something quick he would surely +be shot. So I did a thing I’ve never done before: suddenly and savagely +I bit my master in the leg from behind. Luke was so hurt and startled +that he did just what I wanted him to do: he let go the rope with both +hands at once and turned round. And then, _Crash!_ down went Bill in +his bucket to the bottom of the mine and he was killed. + +“While my master was busy scolding me Mendoza put his pistol in his +pocket, came up with a smile on his face and looked down the mine. + +“‘Why, Good Gracious!’ said he to Luke, ‘You’ve killed Bluebeard Bill. +I must go and tell the police’—hoping, you see, to get the whole mine +to himself when Luke should be put in prison. Then he jumped on his +horse and galloped away. + +“And soon my master grew afraid; for he saw that if Mendoza only told +enough lies to the police, it _would_ look as though he had killed Bill +on purpose. So while Mendoza was gone he and I stole away together +secretly and came to England. Here he shaved off his beard and became a +hermit. And ever since, for fifteen years, we’ve remained in hiding. +This is all I have to say. And I swear it is the truth, every word.” + +When the Doctor finished reading Bob’s long speech the excitement among +the twelve men of the jury was positively terrific. One, a very old +man with white hair, began to weep in a loud voice at the thought of +poor Luke hiding on the fen for fifteen years for something he couldn’t +help. And all the others set to whispering and nodding their heads to +one another. + +In the middle of all this up got that horrible Prosecutor again, waving +his arms more wildly than ever. + +“Your Honor,” he cried, “I must object to this evidence as biased. +Of course the dog would not tell the truth against his own master. I +object. I protest.” + +“Very well,” said the judge, “you are at liberty to cross-examine. It +is your duty as Prosecutor to prove his evidence untrue. There is the +dog: question him, if you do not believe what he says.” + +I thought the long-nosed lawyer would have a fit. He looked first at +the dog, then at the Doctor, then at the judge, then back at the dog +scowling from the witness-box. He opened his mouth to say something; +but no words came. He waved his arms some more. His face got redder +and redder. At last, clutching his forehead, he sank weakly into his +seat and had to be helped out of the court-room by two friends. As he +was half carried through the door he was still feebly murmuring, “I +protest—I object—I protest!” + + + + +_THE EIGHTH CHAPTER_ + +THREE CHEERS + + +NEXT the judge made a very long speech to the jury; and when it was +over all the twelve jurymen got up and went out into the next room. And +at that point the Doctor came back, leading Bob, to the seat beside me. + +“What have the jurymen gone out for?” I asked. + +“They always do that at the end of a trial—to make up their minds +whether the prisoner did it or not.” + +“Couldn’t you and Bob go in with them and help them make up their minds +the right way?” I asked. + +“No, that’s not allowed. They have to talk it over in secret. Sometimes +it takes—My Gracious, look, they’re coming back already! They didn’t +spend long over it.” + +Everybody kept quite still while the twelve men came tramping back +into their places in the pews. Then one of them, the leader—a little +man—stood up and turned to the judge. Every one was holding his breath, +especially the Doctor and myself, to see what he was going to say. You +could have heard a pin drop while the whole court-room, the whole of +Puddleby in fact, waited with craning necks and straining ears to hear +the weighty words. + +“Your Honor,” said the little man, “the jury returns a verdict of _Not +Guilty_.” + +“What’s that mean?” I asked, turning to the Doctor. + +But I found Doctor John Dolittle, the famous naturalist, standing on +top of a chair, dancing about on one leg like a schoolboy. + +“It means he’s free!” he cried, “Luke is free!” + +“Then he’ll be able to come on the voyage with us, won’t he?” + +But I could not hear his answer; for the whole court-room seemed to +be jumping up on chairs like the Doctor. The crowd had suddenly gone +crazy. All the people were laughing and calling and waving to Luke to +show him how glad they were that he was free. The noise was deafening. + +Then it stopped. All was quiet again; and the people stood up +respectfully while the judge left the Court. For the trial of Luke the +Hermit, that famous trial which to this day they are still talking of +in Puddleby, was over. + +In the hush while the judge was leaving, a sudden shriek rang out, and +there, in the doorway stood a woman, her arms out-stretched to the +Hermit. + +“Luke!” she cried, “I’ve found you at last!” + +“It’s his wife,” the fat woman in front of me whispered. “She ain’t +seen ’im in fifteen years, poor dear! What a lovely re-union. I’m glad +I came. I wouldn’t have missed this for anything!” + +As soon as the judge had gone the noise broke out again; and now the +folks gathered round Luke and his wife and shook them by the hand and +congratulated them and laughed over them and cried over them. + +“Come along, Stubbins,” said the Doctor, taking me by the arm, “let’s +get out of this while we can.” + +“But aren’t you going to speak to Luke?” I said—“to ask him if he’ll +come on the voyage?” + +“It wouldn’t be a bit of use,” said the Doctor. “His wife’s come for +him. No man stands any chance of going on a voyage when his wife hasn’t +seen him in fifteen years. Come along. Let’s get home to tea. We didn’t +have any lunch, remember. And we’ve earned something to eat. We’ll have +one of those mixed meals, lunch and tea combined—with watercress and +ham. Nice change. Come along.” + +Just as we were going to step out at a side door I heard the crowd +shouting, + +“The Doctor! The Doctor! Where’s the Doctor? The Hermit would have +hanged if it hadn’t been for the Doctor. Speech! Speech!—The Doctor!” + +And a man came running up to us and said, + +“The people are calling for you, Sir.” + +“I’m very sorry,” said the Doctor, “but I’m in a hurry.” + +“The crowd won’t be denied, Sir,” said the man. “They want you to make +a speech in the market-place.” + +“Beg them to excuse me,” said the Doctor—“with my compliments. I have +an appointment at my house—a very important one which I may not break. +Tell Luke to make a speech. Come along, Stubbins, this way.” + +“Oh Lord!” he muttered as we got out into the open air and found +another crowd waiting for him at the side door. “Let’s go up that +alleyway—to the left. Quick!—Run!” + +We took to our heels, darted through a couple of side streets and just +managed to get away from the crowd. + +It was not till we had gained the Oxenthorpe Road that we dared to +slow down to a walk and take our breath. And even when we reached the +Doctor’s gate and turned to look backwards towards the town, the faint +murmur of many voices still reached us on the evening wind. + +“They’re still clamoring for you,” I said. “Listen!” + +The murmur suddenly swelled up into a low distant roar; and although it +was a mile and half away you could distinctly hear the words, + +“Three cheers for Luke the Hermit: Hooray!—Three cheers for his dog: +Hooray!—Three cheers for his wife: Hooray!—Three cheers for the Doctor: +Hooray! Hooray! HOO-R-A-Y!” + + + + +_THE NINTH CHAPTER_ + +THE PURPLE BIRD-OF-PARADISE + + +POLYNESIA was waiting for us in the front porch. She looked full of +some important news. + +“Doctor,” said she, “the Purple Bird-of-Paradise has arrived!” + +“At last!” said the Doctor. “I had begun to fear some accident had +befallen her. And how is Miranda?” + +From the excited way in which the Doctor fumbled his key into the lock +I guessed that we were not going to get our tea right away, even now. + +“Oh, she seemed all right when she arrived,” said Polynesia—“tired from +her long journey of course but otherwise all right. But what _do_ you +think? That mischief-making sparrow, Cheapside, insulted her as soon +as she came into the garden. When I arrived on the scene she was in +tears and was all for turning round and going straight back to Brazil +to-night. I had the hardest work persuading her to wait till you came. +She’s in the study. I shut Cheapside in one of your book-cases and told +him I’d tell you exactly what had happened the moment you got home.” + +The Doctor frowned, then walked silently and quickly to the study. + +Here we found the candles lit; for the daylight was nearly gone. +Dab-Dab was standing on the floor mounting guard over one of the +glass-fronted book-cases in which Cheapside had been imprisoned. The +noisy little sparrow was still fluttering angrily behind the glass when +we came in. + +In the centre of the big table, perched on the ink-stand, stood the +most beautiful bird I have ever seen. She had a deep violet-colored +breast, scarlet wings and a long, long sweeping tail of gold. She was +unimaginably beautiful but looked dreadfully tired. Already she had her +head under her wing; and she swayed gently from side to side on top of +the ink-stand like a bird that has flown long and far. + +“Sh!” said Dab-Dab. “Miranda is asleep. I’ve got this little imp +Cheapside in here. Listen, Doctor: for Heaven’s sake send that sparrow +away before he does any more mischief. He’s nothing but a vulgar little +nuisance. We’ve had a perfectly awful time trying to get Miranda to +stay. Shall I serve your tea in here, or will you come into the kitchen +when you’re ready?” + +“We’ll come into the kitchen, Dab-Dab,” said the Doctor. “Let Cheapside +out before you go, please.” + +Dab-Dab opened the bookcase-door and Cheapside strutted out trying hard +not to look guilty. + +“Cheapside,” said the Doctor sternly, “what did you say to Miranda when +she arrived?” + +“I didn’t say nothing, Doc, straight I didn’t. That is, nothing much. I +was picking up crumbs off the gravel path when she comes swanking into +the garden, turning up her nose in all directions, as though she owned +the earth—just because she’s got a lot of colored plumage. A London +sparrow’s as good as her any day. I don’t hold by these gawdy bedizened +foreigners nohow. Why don’t they stay in their own country?” + +“But what did you say to her that got her so offended?” + +“All I said was, ‘You don’t belong in an English garden; you ought to +be in a milliner’s window.’ That’s all.” + +“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Cheapside. Don’t you realize that +this bird has come thousands of miles to see me—only to be insulted by +your impertinent tongue as soon as she reaches my garden? What do you +mean by it?—If she had gone away again before I got back to-night I +would never have forgiven you—Leave the room.” + +Sheepishly, but still trying to look as though he didn’t care, +Cheapside hopped out into the passage and Dab-Dab closed the door. + +The Doctor went up to the beautiful bird on the ink-stand and gently +stroked its back. Instantly its head popped out from under its wing. + + + + +_THE TENTH CHAPTER_ + +LONG ARROW, THE SON OF GOLDEN ARROW + + +“WELL, Miranda,” said the Doctor. “I’m terribly sorry this has +happened. But you mustn’t mind Cheapside; he doesn’t know any better. +He’s a city bird; and all his life he has had to squabble for a living. +You must make allowances. He doesn’t know any better.” + +Miranda stretched her gorgeous wings wearily. Now that I saw her awake +and moving I noticed what a superior, well-bred manner she had. There +were tears in her eyes and her beak was trembling. + +“I wouldn’t have minded so much,” she said in a high silvery voice, +“if I hadn’t been so dreadfully worn out—That and something else,” she +added beneath her breath. + +“Did you have a hard time getting here?” asked the Doctor. + +“The worst passage I ever made,” said Miranda. “The weather—Well there. +What’s the use? I’m here anyway.” + +“Tell me,” said the Doctor as though he had been impatiently waiting to +say something for a long time: “what did Long Arrow say when you gave +him my message?” + +The Purple Bird-of-Paradise hung her head. + +“That’s the worst part of it,” she said. “I might almost as well have +not come at all. I wasn’t able to deliver your message. I couldn’t find +him. _Long Arrow, the son of Golden Arrow, has disappeared!_” + +“Disappeared!” cried the Doctor. “Why, what’s become of him?” + +“Nobody knows,” Miranda answered. “He had often disappeared before, as +I have told you—so that the Indians didn’t know where he was. But it’s +a mighty hard thing to hide away from the birds. I had always been able +to find some owl or martin who could tell me where he was—if I wanted +to know. But not this time. That’s why I’m nearly a fortnight late in +coming to you: I kept hunting and hunting, asking everywhere. I went +over the whole length and breadth of South America. But there wasn’t a +living thing could tell me where he was.” + +There was a sad silence in the room after she had finished; the Doctor +was frowning in a peculiar sort of way and Polynesia scratched her head. + +“Did you ask the black parrots?” asked Polynesia. “They usually know +everything.” + +“Certainly I did,” said Miranda. “And I was so upset at not being +able to find out anything, that I forgot all about observing the +weather-signs before I started my flight here. I didn’t even bother to +break my journey at the Azores, but cut right across, making for the +Straits of Gibraltar—as though it were June or July. And of course I +ran into a perfectly frightful storm in mid-Atlantic. I really thought +I’d never come through it. Luckily I found a piece of a wrecked vessel +floating in the sea after the storm had partly died down; and I roosted +on it and took some sleep. If I hadn’t been able to take that rest I +wouldn’t be here to tell the tale.” + +“Poor Miranda! What a time you must have had!” said the Doctor. “But +tell me, were you able to find out whereabouts Long Arrow was last +seen?” + +“Yes. A young albatross told me he had seen him on Spidermonkey Island?” + +“Spidermonkey Island? That’s somewhere off the coast of Brazil, isn’t +it?” + +“Yes, that’s it. Of course I flew there right away and asked every bird +on the island—and it is a big island, a hundred miles long. It seems +that Long Arrow was visiting some peculiar Indians that live there; +and that when last seen he was going up into the mountains looking for +rare medicine-plants. I got that from a tame hawk, a pet, which the +Chief of the Indians keeps for hunting partridges with. I nearly got +caught and put in a cage for my pains too. That’s the worst of having +beautiful feathers: it’s as much as your life is worth to go near most +humans—They say, ‘oh how pretty!’ and shoot an arrow or a bullet into +you. You and Long Arrow were the only two men that I would ever trust +myself near—out of all the people in the world.” + +“But was he never known to have returned from the mountains?” + +“No. That was the last that was seen or heard of him. I questioned the +sea-birds around the shores to find out if he had left the island in a +canoe. But they could tell me nothing.” + +“Do you think that some accident has happened to him?” asked the Doctor +in a fearful voice. + +“I’m afraid it must have,” said Miranda shaking her head. + +“Well,” said John Dolittle slowly, “if I could never meet Long Arrow +face to face it would be the greatest disappointment in my whole +life. Not only that, but it would be a great loss to the knowledge of +the human race. For, from what you have told me of him, he knew more +natural science than all the rest of us put together; and if he has +gone without any one to write it down for him, so the world may be the +better for it, it would be a terrible thing. But you don’t really +think that he is dead, do you?” + +[Illustration: “‘What else can I think?’”] + +“What else can I think?” asked Miranda, bursting into tears, “when for +six whole months he has not been seen by flesh, fish or fowl.” + + + + +_THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER_ + +BLIND TRAVEL + + +THIS news about Long Arrow made us all very sad. And I could see from +the silent dreamy way the Doctor took his tea that he was dreadfully +upset. Every once in a while he would stop eating altogether and sit +staring at the spots on the kitchen table-cloth as though his thoughts +were far away; till Dab-Dab, who was watching to see that he got a good +meal, would cough or rattle the pots in the sink. + +I did my best to cheer him up by reminding him of all he had done for +Luke and his wife that afternoon. And when that didn’t seem to work, I +went on talking about our preparations for the voyage. + +“But you see, Stubbins,” said he as we rose from the table and Dab-Dab +and Chee-Chee began to clear away, “I don’t know where to go now. I +feel sort of lost since Miranda brought me this news. On this voyage I +had planned going to see Long Arrow. I had been looking forward to it +for a whole year. I felt he might help me in learning the language of +the shellfish—and perhaps in finding some way of getting to the bottom +of the sea. But now?—He’s gone! And all his great knowledge has gone +with him.” + +Then he seemed to fall a-dreaming again. + +“Just to think of it!” he murmured. “Long Arrow and I, two +students—Although I’d never met him, I felt as though I knew him quite +well. For, in his way—without any schooling—he has, all his life, been +trying to do the very things which I have tried to do in mine—And now +he’s gone!—A whole world lay between us—And only a bird knew us both!” + +We went back into the study, where Jip brought the Doctor his slippers +and his pipe. And after the pipe was lit and the smoke began to fill +the room the old man seemed to cheer up a little. + +“But you will go on some voyage, Doctor, won’t you?” I asked—“even if +you can’t go to find Long Arrow.” + +He looked up sharply into my face; and I suppose he saw how anxious I +was. Because he suddenly smiled his old, boyish smile and said, + +“Yes, Stubbins. Don’t worry. We’ll go. We mustn’t stop working and +learning, even if poor Long Arrow has disappeared—But where to go: +that’s the question. Where shall we go?” + +There were so many places that I wanted to go that I couldn’t make up +my mind right away. And while I was still thinking, the Doctor sat up +in his chair and said, + +“I tell you what we’ll do, Stubbins: it’s a game I used to play when I +was young—before Sarah came to live with me. I used to call it Blind +Travel. Whenever I wanted to go on a voyage, and I couldn’t make up my +mind where to go, I would take the atlas and open it with my eyes shut. +Next, I’d wave a pencil, still without looking, and stick it down on +whatever page had fallen open. Then I’d open my eyes and look. It’s a +very exciting game, is Blind Travel. Because you have to swear, before +you begin, that you will go to the place the pencil touches, come what +may. Shall we play it?” + +“Oh, let’s!” I almost yelled. “How thrilling! I hope it’s China—or +Borneo—or Bagdad.” + +And in a moment I had scrambled up the bookcase, dragged the big atlas +from the top shelf and laid it on the table before the Doctor. + +I knew every page in that atlas by heart. How many days and nights I +had lingered over its old faded maps, following the blue rivers from +the mountains to the sea; wondering what the little towns really looked +like, and how wide were the sprawling lakes! I had had a lot of fun +with that atlas, traveling, in my mind, all over the world. I can see +it now: the first page had no map; it just told you that it was printed +in Edinburgh in 1808, and a whole lot more about the book. The next +page was the Solar System, showing the sun and planets, the stars and +the moon. The third page was the chart of the North and South Poles. +Then came the hemispheres, the oceans, the continents and the countries. + +As the Doctor began sharpening his pencil a thought came to me. + +“What if the pencil falls upon the North Pole,” I asked, “will we have +to go there?” + +“No. The rules of the game say you don’t have to go any place you’ve +been to before. You are allowed another try. I’ve been to the North +Pole,” he ended quietly, “so we shan’t have to go there.” + +I could hardly speak with astonishment. + +“_You’ve been to the North pole!_” I managed to gasp out at last. “But +I thought it was still undiscovered. The map shows all the places +explorers have reached to, _trying_ to get there. Why isn’t your name +down if you discovered it?” + +“I promised to keep it a secret. And you must promise me never to +tell any one. Yes, I discovered the North Pole in April, 1809. But +shortly after I got there the polar bears came to me in a body and +told me there was a great deal of coal there, buried beneath the snow. +They knew, they said, that human beings would do anything, and go +anywhere, to get coal. So would I please keep it a secret. Because +once people began coming up there to start coal-mines, their beautiful +white country would be spoiled—and there was nowhere else in the world +cold enough for polar bears to be comfortable. So of course I had to +promise them I would. Ah, well, it will be discovered again some day, +by somebody else. But I want the polar bears to have their play-ground +to themselves as long as possible. And I daresay it will be a good +while yet—for it certainly is a fiendish place to get to—Well now, are +we ready?—Good! Take the pencil and stand here close to the table. When +the book falls open, wave the pencil round three times and jab it down. +Ready?—All right. Shut your eyes.” + +It was a tense and fearful moment—but very thrilling. We both had our +eyes shut tight. I heard the atlas fall open with a bang. I wondered +what page it was: England or Asia. If it should be the map of Asia, so +much would depend on where that pencil would land. I waved three times +in a circle. I began to lower my hand. The pencil-point touched the +page. + +“All right,” I called out, “it’s done.” + + + + +_THE TWELFTH CHAPTER_ + +DESTINY AND DESTINATION + + +WE both opened our eyes; then bumped our heads together with a crack in +our eagerness to lean over and see where we were to go. + +The atlas lay open at a map called, _Chart of the South Atlantic +Ocean_. My pencil-point was resting right in the center of a tiny +island. The name of it was printed so small that the Doctor had to get +out his strong spectacles to read it. I was trembling with excitement. + +“_Spidermonkey Island_,” he read out slowly. Then he whistled softly +beneath his breath. “Of all the extraordinary things! You’ve hit upon +the very island where Long Arrow was last seen on earth—I wonder—Well, +well! How very singular!” + +“We’ll go there, Doctor, won’t we?” I asked. + +“Of course we will. The rules of the game say we’ve got to.” + +“I’m so glad it wasn’t Oxenthorpe or Bristol,” I said. “It’ll be a +grand voyage, this. Look at all the sea we’ve got to cross. Will it +take us long?” + +“Oh, no,” said the Doctor—“not very. With a good boat and a good wind +we should make it easily in four weeks. But isn’t it extraordinary? +Of all the places in the world you picked out that one with your eyes +shut. Spidermonkey Island after all!—Well, there’s one good thing about +it: I shall be able to get some Jabizri beetles.” + +“What are Jabizri beetles?” + +“They are a very rare kind of beetles with peculiar habits. I want to +study them. There are only three countries in the world where they are +to be found. Spidermonkey Island is one of them. But even there they +are very scarce.” + +“What is this little question-mark after the name of the island for?” I +asked, pointing to the map. + +“That means that the island’s position in the ocean is not known very +exactly—that it is somewhere _about_ there. Ships have probably seen it +in that neighborhood, that is all, most likely. It is quite possible we +shall be the first white men to land there. But I daresay we shall have +some difficulty in finding it first.” + +How like a dream it all sounded! The two of us sitting there at the big +study-table; the candles lit; the smoke curling towards the dim ceiling +from the Doctor’s pipe—the two of us sitting there, talking about +finding an island in the ocean and being the first white men to land +upon it! + +“I’ll bet it will be a great voyage,” I said. “It looks a lovely +island on the map. Will there be black men there?” + +“No. A peculiar tribe of Red Indians lives on it, Miranda tells me.” + +At this point the poor Bird-of-Paradise stirred and woke up. In our +excitement we had forgotten to speak low. + +“We are going to Spidermonkey Island, Miranda,” said the Doctor. “You +know where it is, do you not?” + +“I know where it was the last time I saw it,” said the bird. “But +whether it will be there still, I can’t say.” + +“What do you mean?” asked the Doctor. “It is always in the same place +surely?” + +“Not by any means,” said Miranda. “Why, didn’t you know?—Spidermonkey +Island is a _floating_ island. It moves around all over the +place—usually somewhere near southern South America. But of course I +could surely find it for you if you want to go there.” + +At this fresh piece of news I could contain myself no longer. I was +bursting to tell some one. I ran dancing and singing from the room to +find Chee-Chee. + +At the door I tripped over Dab-Dab, who was just coming in with her +wings full of plates, and fell headlong on my nose. + +“Has the boy gone crazy?” cried the duck. “Where do you think you’re +going, ninny?” + +“To Spidermonkey Island!” I shouted, picking myself up and doing +cart-wheels down the hall—“Spidermonkey Island! Hooray!—And it’s a +_floating_ island!” + +“You’re going to Bedlam, I should say,” snorted the housekeeper. “Look +what you’ve done to my best china!” + +But I was far too happy to listen to her scolding; and I ran on, +singing, into the kitchen to find Chee-Chee. + +[Illustration] + + + + +PART THREE + + + + +_THE FIRST CHAPTER_ + +THE THIRD MAN + + +THAT same week we began our preparations for the voyage. + +Joe, the mussel-man, had the _Curlew_ moved down the river and tied it +up along the river-wall, so it would be more handy for loading. And for +three whole days we carried provisions down to our beautiful new boat +and stowed them away. + +I was surprised to find how roomy and big she was inside. There were +three little cabins, a saloon (or dining-room) and underneath all this, +a big place called the hold where the food and extra sails and other +things were kept. + +I think Joe must have told everybody in the town about our coming +voyage, because there was always a regular crowd watching us when we +brought the things down to put aboard. And of course sooner or later +old Matthew Mugg was bound to turn up. + +“My Goodness, Tommy,” said he, as he watched me carrying on some sacks +of flour, “but that’s a pretty boat! Where might the Doctor be going +to this voyage?” + +“We’re going to Spidermonkey Island,” I said proudly. + +“And be you the only one the Doctor’s taking along?” + +“Well, he has spoken of wanting to take another man,” I said; “but so +far he hasn’t made up his mind.” + +Matthew grunted; then squinted up at the graceful masts of the _Curlew_. + +“You know, Tommy,” said he, “if it wasn’t for my rheumatism I’ve half +a mind to come with the Doctor myself. There’s something about a boat +standing ready to sail that always did make me feel venturesome and +travelish-like. What’s that stuff in the cans you’re taking on?” + +“This is treacle,” I said—“twenty pounds of treacle.” + +“My Goodness,” he sighed, turning away sadly. “That makes me feel more +like going with you than ever—But my rheumatism is that bad I can’t +hardly—” + +I didn’t hear any more for Matthew had moved off, still mumbling, into +the crowd that stood about the wharf. The clock in Puddleby Church +struck noon and I turned back, feeling very busy and important, to the +task of loading. + +But it wasn’t very long before some one else came along and +interrupted my work. This was a huge, big, burly man with a red beard +and tattoo-marks all over his arms. He wiped his mouth with the back of +his hand, spat twice on to the river-wall and said, + +“Boy, where’s the skipper?” + +“The _skipper_!—Who do you mean?” I asked. + +“The captain—Where’s the captain of this craft?” he said, pointing to +the _Curlew_. + +“Oh, you mean the Doctor,” said I. “Well, he isn’t here at present.” + +At that moment the Doctor arrived with his arms full of note-books and +butterfly-nets and glass cases and other natural history things. The +big man went up to him, respectfully touching his cap. + +“Good morning, Captain,” said he. “I heard you was in need of hands for +a voyage. My name’s Ben Butcher, able seaman.” + +“I am very glad to know you,” said the Doctor. “But I’m afraid I shan’t +be able to take on any more crew.” + +“Why, but Captain,” said the able seaman, “you surely ain’t going to +face deep-sea weather with nothing more than this bit of a lad to help +you—and with a cutter that big!” + +The Doctor assured him that he was; but the man didn’t go away. He hung +around and argued. He told us he had known of many ships being sunk +through “undermanning.” He got out what he called his _stiffikit_—a +paper which said what a good sailor he was—and implored us, if we +valued our lives, to take him. + +[Illustration: “‘Boy, where’s the skipper?’”] + +But the Doctor was quite firm—polite but determined—and finally the man +walked sorrowfully away, telling us he never expected to see us alive +again. + +Callers of one sort and another kept us quite busy that morning. +The Doctor had no sooner gone below to stow away his note-books +than another visitor appeared upon the gang-plank. This was a most +extraordinary-looking black man. The only other negroes I had seen +had been in circuses, where they wore feathers and bone necklaces and +things like that. But this one was dressed in a fashionable frock coat +with an enormous bright red cravat. On his head was a straw hat with +a gay band; and over this he held a large green umbrella. He was very +smart in every respect except his feet. He wore no shoes or socks. + +“Pardon me,” said he, bowing elegantly, “but is this the ship of the +physician Dolittle?” + +“Yes,” I said, “did you wish to see him?” + +“I did—if it will not be discommodious,” he answered. + +“Who shall I say it is?” + +“I am Bumpo Kahbooboo, Crown Prince of Jolliginki.” + +I ran downstairs at once and told the Doctor. + +“How fortunate!” cried John Dolittle. “My old friend Bumpo! Well, +well!—He’s studying at Oxford, you know. How good of him to come all +this way to call on me!” And he tumbled up the ladder to greet his +visitor. + +The strange black man seemed to be overcome with joy when the Doctor +appeared and shook him warmly by the hand. + +“News reached me,” he said, “that you were about to sail upon a voyage. +I hastened to see you before your departure. I am sublimely ecstasied +that I did not miss you.” + +“You very nearly did miss us,” said the Doctor. “As it happened, we +were delayed somewhat in getting the necessary number of men to sail +our boat. If it hadn’t been for that, we would have been gone three +days ago.” + +“How many men does your ship’s company yet require?” asked Bumpo. + +“Only one,” said the Doctor—“But it is so hard to find the right one.” + +“Methinks I detect something of the finger of Destination in this,” +said Bumpo. “How would I do?” + +“Splendidly,” said the Doctor. “But what about your studies? You can’t +very well just go off and leave your university career to take care of +itself, you know.” + +“I need a holiday,” said Bumpo. “Even had I not gone with you, I +intended at the end of this term to take a three-months’ absconsion—But +besides, I shall not be neglecting my edification if I accompany you. +Before I left Jolliginki my august father, the King, told me to be +sure and travel plenty. You are a man of great studiosity. To see the +world in your company is an opportunity not to be sneezed upon. No, no, +indeed.” + +“How did you like the life at Oxford?” asked the Doctor. + +“Oh, passably, passably,” said Bumpo. “I liked it all except the +algebra and the shoes. The algebra hurt my head and the shoes hurt my +feet. I threw the shoes over a wall as soon as I got out of the college +quadrilateral this morning; and the algebra I am happily forgetting +very fast—I liked Cicero—Yes, I think Cicero’s fine—so simultaneous. +By the way, they tell me his son is rowing for our college next +year—charming fellow.” + +The Doctor looked down at the black man’s huge bare feet thoughtfully a +moment. + +“Well,” he said slowly, “there is something in what you say, Bumpo, +about getting education from the world as well as from the college. And +if you are really sure that you want to come, we shall be delighted to +have you. Because, to tell you the truth, I think you are exactly the +man we need.” + + + + +_THE SECOND CHAPTER_ + +GOOD-BYE! + + +TWO days after that we had all in readiness for our departure. + +On this voyage Jip begged so hard to be taken that the Doctor finally +gave in and said he could come. Polynesia and Chee-Chee were the only +other animals to go with us. Dab-Dab was left in charge of the house +and the animal family we were to leave behind. + +Of course, as is always the way, at the last moment we kept remembering +things we had forgotten; and when we finally closed the house up and +went down the steps to the road, we were all burdened with armfuls of +odd packages. + +Halfway to the river, the Doctor suddenly remembered that he had left +the stock-pot boiling on the kitchen-fire. However, we saw a blackbird +flying by who nested in our garden, and the Doctor asked her to go back +for us and tell Dab-Dab about it. + +Down at the river-wall we found a great crowd waiting to see us off. + +Standing right near the gang-plank were my mother and father. I hoped +that they would not make a scene, or burst into tears or anything like +that. But as a matter of fact they behaved quite well—for parents. My +mother said something about being sure not to get my feet wet; and my +father just smiled a crooked sort of smile, patted me on the back and +wished me luck. Good-byes are awfully uncomfortable things and I was +glad when it was over and we passed on to the ship. + +We were a little surprised not to see Matthew Mugg among the crowd. We +had felt sure that he would be there; and the Doctor had intended to +give him some extra instructions about the food for the animals we had +left at the house. + +At last, after much pulling and tugging, we got the anchor up and undid +a lot of mooring-ropes. Then the _Curlew_ began to move gently down the +river with the out-running tide, while the people on the wall cheered +and waved their handkerchiefs. + +We bumped into one or two other boats getting out into the stream; and +at one sharp bend in the river we got stuck on a mud bank for a few +minutes. But though the people on the shore seemed to get very excited +at these things, the Doctor did not appear to be disturbed by them in +the least. + +“These little accidents will happen in the most carefully regulated +voyages,” he said as he leaned over the side and fished for his boots +which had got stuck in the mud while we were pushing off. “Sailing is +much easier when you get out into the open sea. There aren’t so many +silly things to bump into.” + +For me indeed it was a great and wonderful feeling, that getting out +into the open sea, when at length we passed the little lighthouse at +the mouth of the river and found ourselves free of the land. It was all +so new and different: just the sky above you and sea below. This ship, +which was to be our house and our street, our home and our garden, for +so many days to come, seemed so tiny in all this wide water—so tiny and +yet so snug, sufficient, safe. + +I looked around me and took in a deep breath. The Doctor was at the +wheel steering the boat which was now leaping and plunging gently +through the waves. (I had expected to feel seasick at first but was +delighted to find that I didn’t.) Bumpo had been told off to go +downstairs and prepare dinner for us. Chee-Chee was coiling up ropes +in the stern and laying them in neat piles. My work was fastening down +the things on the deck so that nothing could roll about if the weather +should grow rough when we got further from the land. Jip was up in the +peak of the boat with ears cocked and nose stuck out—like a statue, so +still—his keen old eyes keeping a sharp look-out for floating wrecks, +sand-bars, and other dangers. Each one of us had some special job to +do, part of the proper running of a ship. Even old Polynesia was taking +the sea’s temperature with the Doctor’s bath-thermometer tied on the +end of a string, to make sure there were no icebergs near us. As I +listened to her swearing softly to herself because she couldn’t read +the pesky figures in the fading light, I realized that the voyage had +begun in earnest and that very soon it would be night—my first night at +sea! + + + + +_THE THIRD CHAPTER_ + +OUR TROUBLES BEGIN + + +JUST before supper-time Bumpo appeared from downstairs and went to the +Doctor at the wheel. + +“A stowaway in the hold, Sir,” said he in a very business-like +seafaring voice. “I just discovered him, behind the flour-bags.” + +“Dear me!” said the Doctor. “What a nuisance! Stubbins, go down with +Bumpo and bring the man up. I can’t leave the wheel just now.” + +So Bumpo and I went down into the hold; and there, behind the +flour-bags, plastered in flour from head to foot, we found a man. After +we had swept most of the flour off him with a broom, we discovered +that it was Matthew Mugg. We hauled him upstairs sneezing and took him +before the Doctor. + +“Why Matthew!” said John Dolittle. “What on earth are you doing here?” + +“The temptation was too much for me, Doctor,” said the cat’s-meat-man. +“You know I’ve often asked you to take me on voyages with you and you +never would. Well, this time, knowing that you needed an extra man, I +thought if I stayed hid till the ship was well at sea you would find I +came in handy like and keep me. But I had to lie so doubled up, for +hours, behind them flour-bags, that my rheumatism came on something +awful. I just had to change my position; and of course just as I +stretched out my legs along comes this here African cook of yours and +sees my feet sticking out—Don’t this ship roll something awful! How +long has this storm been going on? I reckon this damp sea air wouldn’t +be very good for my rheumatics.” + +“No, Matthew it really isn’t. You ought not to have come. You are not +in any way suited to this kind of a life. I’m sure you wouldn’t enjoy +a long voyage a bit. We’ll stop in at Penzance and put you ashore. +Bumpo, please go downstairs to my bunk; and listen: in the pocket of +my dressing-gown you’ll find some maps. Bring me the small one—with +blue pencil-marks at the top. I know Penzance is over here on our left +somewhere. But I must find out what light-houses there are before I +change the ship’s course and sail inshore.” + +“Very good, Sir,” said Bumpo, turning round smartly and making for the +stairway. + +“Now Matthew,” said the Doctor, “you can take the coach from Penzance +to Bristol. And from there it is not very far to Puddleby, as you know. +Don’t forget to take the usual provisions to the house every Thursday, +and be particularly careful to remember the extra supply of herrings +for the baby minks.” + +While we were waiting for the maps Chee-Chee and I set about lighting +the lamps: a green one on the right side of the ship, a red one on the +left and a white one on the mast. + +At last we heard some one trundling on the stairs again and the Doctor +said, + +“Ah, here’s Bumpo with the maps at last!” + +But to our great astonishment it was not Bumpo alone that appeared but +_three_ people. + +“Good Lord deliver us! Who are these?” cried John Dolittle. + +“Two more stowaways, Sir,” said Bumpo stepping forward briskly. “I +found them in your cabin hiding under the bunk. One woman and one man, +Sir. Here are the maps.” + +“This is too much,” said the Doctor feebly. “Who are they? I can’t see +their faces in this dim light. Strike a match, Bumpo.” + +You could never guess who it was. It was Luke and his wife. Mrs. Luke +appeared to be very miserable and seasick. + +They explained to the Doctor that after they had settled down to live +together in the little shack out on the fens, so many people came +to visit them (having heard about the great trial) that life became +impossible; and they had decided to escape from Puddleby in this +manner—for they had no money to leave any other way—and try to find +some new place to live where they and their story wouldn’t be so well +known. But as soon as the ship had begun to roll Mrs. Luke had got most +dreadfully unwell. + +Poor Luke apologized many times for being such a nuisance and said that +the whole thing had been his wife’s idea. + +The Doctor, after he had sent below for his medicine-bag and had given +Mrs. Luke some _sal volatile_ and smelling-salts, said he thought the +best thing to do would be for him to lend them some money and put them +ashore at Penzance with Matthew. He also wrote a letter for Luke to +take with him to a friend the Doctor had in the town of Penzance who, +it was hoped, would be able to find Luke work to do there. + +As the Doctor opened his purse and took out some gold coins I heard +Polynesia, who was sitting on my shoulder watching the whole affair, +mutter beneath her breath, + +“There he goes—lending his last blessed penny—three pounds ten—all +the money we had for the whole trip! Now we haven’t the price of a +postage-stamp aboard if we should lose an anchor or have to buy a pint +of tar—Well, let’s pray we don’t run out of food—Why doesn’t he give +them the ship and walk home?” + +Presently with the help of the map the course of the boat was changed +and, to Mrs. Luke’s great relief, we made for Penzance and dry land. + +I was tremendously interested to see how a ship could be steered into a +port at night with nothing but light-houses and a compass to guide you. +It seemed to me that the Doctor missed all the rocks and sand-bars very +cleverly. + +We got into that funny little Cornish harbor about eleven o’clock that +night. The Doctor took his stowaways on shore in our small row-boat +which we kept on the deck of the _Curlew_ and found them rooms at +the hotel there. When he got back he told us that Mrs. Luke had gone +straight to bed and was feeling much better. + +It was now after midnight; so we decided to stay in the harbor and wait +till morning before setting out again. + +I was glad to get to bed, although I felt that staying up so +tremendously late was great fun. As I climbed into the bunk over the +Doctor’s and pulled the blankets snugly round me, I found I could look +out of the port-hole at my elbow, and, without raising my head from +the pillow, could see the lights of Penzance swinging gently up and +down with the motion of the ship at anchor. It was like being rocked +to sleep with a little show going on to amuse you. I was just deciding +that I liked the life of the sea very much when I fell fast asleep. + + + + +_THE FOURTH CHAPTER_ + +OUR TROUBLES CONTINUE + + +THE next morning when we were eating a very excellent breakfast of +kidneys and bacon, prepared by our good cook Bumpo, the Doctor said to +me, + +“I was just wondering, Stubbins, whether I should stop at the Capa +Blanca Islands or run right across for the coast of Brazil. Miranda +said we could expect a spell of excellent weather now—for four and a +half weeks at least.” + +“Well,” I said, spooning out the sugar at the bottom of my cocoa-cup, +“I should think it would be best to make straight across while we +are sure of good weather. And besides the Purple Bird-of-Paradise is +going to keep a lookout for us, isn’t she? She’ll be wondering what’s +happened to us if we don’t get there in about a month.” + +“True, quite true, Stubbins. On the other hand, the Capa Blancas make +a very convenient stopping place on our way across. If we should need +supplies or repairs it would be very handy to put in there.” + +“How long will it take us from here to the Capa Blancas?” I asked. + +“About six days,” said the Doctor—“Well, we can decide later. For the +next two days at any rate our direction would be the same practically +in either case. If you have finished breakfast let’s go and get under +way.” + +Upstairs I found our vessel surrounded by white and gray seagulls +who flashed and circled about in the sunny morning air, looking for +food-scraps thrown out by the ships into the harbor. + +By about half past seven we had the anchor up and the sails set to a +nice steady breeze; and this time we got out into the open sea without +bumping into a single thing. We met the Penzance fishing fleet coming +in from the night’s fishing, and very trim and neat they looked, in a +line like soldiers, with their red-brown sails all leaning over the +same way and the white water dancing before their bows. + +For the next three or four days everything went smoothly and nothing +unusual happened. During this time we all got settled down into our +regular jobs; and in spare moments the Doctor showed each of us how to +take our turns at the wheel, the proper manner of keeping a ship on her +right course, and what to do if the wind changed suddenly. We divided +the twenty-four hours of the day into three spells; and we took it in +turns to sleep our eight hours and be awake sixteen. So the ship was +well looked after, with two of us always on duty. + +Besides that, Polynesia, who was an older sailor than any of us, and +really knew a lot about running ships, seemed to be always awake—except +when she took her couple of winks in the sun, standing on one leg +beside the wheel. You may be sure that no one ever got a chance to stay +abed more than his eight hours while Polynesia was around. She used to +watch the ship’s clock; and if you overslept a half-minute, she would +come down to the cabin and peck you gently on the nose till you got up. + +I very soon grew to be quite fond of our funny black friend Bumpo, +with his grand way of speaking and his enormous feet which some one +was always stepping on or falling over. Although he was much older +than I was and had been to college, he never tried to lord it over me. +He seemed to be forever smiling and kept all of us in good humor. It +wasn’t long before I began to see the Doctor’s good sense in bringing +him—in spite of the fact that he knew nothing whatever about sailing or +travel. + +On the morning of the fifth day out, just as I was taking the wheel +over from the Doctor, Bumpo appeared and said, + +“The salt beef is nearly all gone, Sir.” + +“The salt beef!” cried the Doctor. “Why, we brought a hundred and +twenty pounds with us. We couldn’t have eaten that in five days. What +can have become of it?” + +[Illustration: “In these lower levels we came upon the shadowy shapes +of dead ships” + +_Page 360_] + +“I don’t know, Sir, I’m sure. Every time I go down to the stores I find +another hunk missing. If it is rats that are eating it, then they are +certainly colossal rodents.” + +Polynesia who was walking up and down a stay-rope taking her morning +exercise, put in, + +“We must search the hold. If this is allowed to go on we will all be +starving before a week is out. Come downstairs with me, Tommy, and we +will look into this matter.” + +So we went downstairs into the store-room and Polynesia told us to keep +quite still and listen. This we did. And presently we heard from a dark +corner of the hold the distinct sound of someone snoring. + +“Ah, I thought so,” said Polynesia. “It’s a man—and a big one. Climb +in there, both of you, and haul him out. It sounds as though he were +behind that barrel—Gosh! We seem to have brought half of Puddleby with +us. Anyone would think we were a penny ferry-boat. Such cheek! Haul him +out.” + +So Bumpo and I lit a lantern and climbed over the stores. And there, +behind the barrel, sure enough, we found an enormous bearded man fast +asleep with a well-fed look on his face. We woke him up. + +“Washamarrer?” he said sleepily. + +It was Ben Butcher, the able seaman. + +Polynesia spluttered like an angry fire-cracker. + +“This is the last straw,” said she. “The one man in the world we least +wanted. Shiver my timbers, what cheek!” + +“Would it not be, advisable,” suggested Bumpo, “while the varlet is +still sleepy, to strike him on the head with some heavy object and push +him through a port-hole into the sea?” + +“No. We’d get into trouble,” said Polynesia. “We’re not in Jolliginki +now, you know—worse luck!—Besides, there never was a port-hole big +enough to push that man through. Bring him upstairs to the Doctor.” + +So we led the man to the wheel where he respectfully touched his cap to +the Doctor. + +“Another stowaway, Sir,” said Bumpo smartly. + +I thought the poor Doctor would have a fit. + +“Good morning, Captain,” said the man. “Ben Butcher, able seaman, at +your service. I knew you’d need me, so I took the liberty of stowing +away—much against my conscience. But I just couldn’t bear to see you +poor landsmen set out on this voyage without a single real seaman to +help you. You’d never have got home alive if I hadn’t come—Why look at +your mainsail, Sir—all loose at the throat. First gust of wind come +along, and away goes your canvas overboard—Well, it’s all right now I’m +here. We’ll soon get things in shipshape.” + +“No, it isn’t all right,” said the Doctor, “it’s all wrong. And I’m not +at all glad to see you. I told you in Puddleby I didn’t want you. You +had no right to come.” + +“But Captain,” said the able seaman, “you can’t sail this ship without +me. You don’t understand navigation. Why, look at the compass now: +you’ve let her swing a point and a half off her course. It’s madness +for you to try to do this trip alone—if you’ll pardon my saying so, +Sir. Why—why, you’ll lose the ship!” + +“Look here,” said the Doctor, a sudden stern look coming into his +eyes, “losing a ship is nothing to me. I’ve lost ships before and it +doesn’t bother me in the least. When I set out to go to a place, I get +there. Do you understand? I may know nothing whatever about sailing +and navigation, but I get there just the same. Now you may be the best +seaman in the world, but on _this_ ship you’re just a plain ordinary +nuisance—very plain and very ordinary. And I am now going to call at +the nearest port and put you ashore.” + +“Yes, and think yourself lucky,” Polynesia put in, “that you are not +locked up for stowing away and eating all our salt beef.” + +“I don’t know what the mischief we’re going to do now,” I heard her +whisper to Bumpo. “We’ve no money to buy any more; and that salt beef +was the most important part of the stores.” + +“Would it not be good political economy,” Bumpo whispered back, “if +we salted the able seaman and ate him instead? I should judge that he +would weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds.” + +“How often must I tell you that we are not in Jolliginki,” snapped +Polynesia. “Those things are not done on white men’s ships—Still,” she +murmured after a moment’s thought, “it’s an awfully bright idea. I +don’t suppose anybody saw him come on to the ship—Oh, but Heavens! we +haven’t got enough salt. Besides, he’d be sure to taste of tobacco.” + + + + +_THE FIFTH CHAPTER_ + +POLYNESIA HAS A PLAN + + +THEN the Doctor told me to take the wheel while he made a little +calculation with his map and worked out what new course we should take. + +“I shall have to run for the Capa Blancas after all,” he told me when +the seaman’s back was turned. “Dreadful nuisance! But I’d sooner swim +back to Puddleby than have to listen to that fellow’s talk all the way +to Brazil.” + +Indeed he was a terrible person, this Ben Butcher. You’d think that any +one after being told he wasn’t wanted would have had the decency to +keep quiet. But not Ben Butcher. He kept going round the deck pointing +out all the things we had wrong. According to him there wasn’t a thing +right on the whole ship. The anchor was hitched up wrong; the hatches +weren’t fastened down properly; the sails were put on back to front; +all our knots were the wrong kind of knots. + +At last the Doctor told him to stop talking and go downstairs. He +refused—said he wasn’t going to be sunk by landlubbers while he was +still able to stay on deck. + +This made us feel a little uneasy. He was such an enormous man there +was no knowing what he might do if he got really obstreperous. + +Bumpo and I were talking about this downstairs in the dining-saloon +when Polynesia, Jip and Chee-Chee came and joined us. And, as usual, +Polynesia had a plan. + +“Listen,” she said, “I am certain this Ben Butcher is a smuggler and a +bad man. I am a very good judge of seamen, remember, and I don’t like +the cut of this man’s jib. I—” + +“Do you really think,” I interrupted, “that it _is_ safe for the Doctor +to cross the Atlantic without any regular seamen on his ship?” + +You see it had upset me quite a good deal to find that all the things +we had been doing were wrong; and I was beginning to wonder what might +happen if we ran into a storm—particularly as Miranda had only said the +weather would be good for a certain time; and we seemed to be having so +many delays. But Polynesia merely tossed her head scornfully. + +“Oh, bless you, my boy,” said she, “you’re always safe with John +Dolittle. Remember that. Don’t take any notice of that stupid old salt. +Of course it is perfectly true the Doctor does do everything wrong. But +with him it doesn’t matter. Mark my words, if you travel with John +Dolittle you always get there, as you heard him say. I’ve been with him +lots of times and I know. Sometimes the ship is upside down when you +get there, and sometimes it’s right way up. But you get there just the +same. And then of course there’s another thing about the Doctor,” she +added thoughtfully: “he always has extraordinary good luck. He may have +his troubles; but with him things seem to have a habit of turning out +all right in the end. I remember once when we were going through the +Straits of Magellan the wind was so strong—” + +“But what are we going to do about Ben Butcher?” Jip put in. “You had +some plan Polynesia, hadn’t you?” + +“Yes. What I’m afraid of is that he may hit the Doctor on the head when +he’s not looking and make himself captain of the _Curlew_. Bad sailors +do that sometimes. Then they run the ship their own way and take it +where they want. That’s what you call a mutiny.” + +“Yes,” said Jip, “and we ought to do something pretty quick. We can’t +reach the Capa Blancas before the day after to-morrow at best. I don’t +like to leave the Doctor alone with him for a minute. He smells like a +very bad man to me.” + +“Well, I’ve got it all worked out,” said Polynesia. “Listen: is there a +key in that door?” + +We looked outside the dining-room and found that there was. + +“All right,” said Polynesia. “Now Bumpo lays the table for lunch and +we all go and hide. Then at twelve o’clock Bumpo rings the dinner-bell +down here. As soon as Ben hears it he’ll come down expecting more salt +beef. Bumpo must hide behind the door outside. The moment that Ben is +seated at the dining-table Bumpo slams the door and locks it. Then +we’ve got him. See?” + +“How stratagenious!” Bumpo chuckled. “As Cicero said, _parrots cum +parishioners facilime congregation_. I’ll lay the table at once.” + +“Yes and take that Worcestershire sauce off the dresser with you when +you go out,” said Polynesia. “Don’t leave any loose eatables around. +That fellow has had enough to last any man for three days. Besides, he +won’t be so inclined to start a fight when we put him ashore at the +Capa Blancas if we thin him down a bit before we let him out.” + +So we all went and hid ourselves in the passage where we could watch +what happened. And presently Bumpo came to the foot of the stairs and +rang the dinner-bell like mad. Then he hopped behind the dining-room +door and we all kept still and listened. + +Almost immediately, _thump_, _thump_, _thump_, down the stairs tramped +Ben Butcher, the able seaman. He walked into the dining-saloon, sat +himself down at the head of the table in the Doctor’s place, tucked a +napkin under his fat chin and heaved a sigh of expectation. + +Then, _bang_! Bumpo slammed the door and locked it. + +“That settles _him_ for a while,” said Polynesia coming out from her +hiding-place. “Now let him teach navigation to the side-board. Gosh, +the cheek of the man! I’ve forgotten more about the sea than that +lumbering lout will ever know. Let’s go upstairs and tell the Doctor. +Bumpo, you will have to serve the meals in the cabin for the next +couple of days.” + +And bursting into a rollicking Norwegian sea-song, she climbed up to my +shoulder and we went on deck. + + + + +_THE SIXTH CHAPTER_ + +THE BED-MAKER OF MONTEVERDE + + +WE remained three days in the Capa Blanca Islands. + +There were two reasons why we stayed there so long when we were really +in such a hurry to get away. One was the shortage in our provisions +caused by the able seaman’s enormous appetite. When we came to go over +the stores and make a list, we found that he had eaten a whole lot of +other things besides the beef. And having no money, we were sorely +puzzled how to buy more. The Doctor went through his trunk to see if +there was anything he could sell. But the only thing he could find +was an old watch with the hands broken and the back dented in; and we +decided this would not bring us in enough money to buy much more than a +pound of tea. Bumpo suggested that he sing comic songs in the streets +which he had learned in Jolliginki. But the Doctor said he did not +think that the islanders would care for African music. + +The other thing that kept us was the bullfight. In these islands, which +belonged to Spain, they had bullfights every Sunday. It was on a Friday +that we arrived there; and after we had got rid of the able seaman we +took a walk through the town. + +It was a very funny little town, quite different from any that I had +ever seen. The streets were all twisty and winding and so narrow that a +wagon could only just pass along them. The houses over-hung at the top +and came so close together that people in the attics could lean out of +the windows and shake hands with their neighbors on the opposite side +of the street. The Doctor told us the town was very, very old. It was +called Monteverde. + +As we had no money of course we did not go to a hotel or anything like +that. But on the second evening when we were passing by a bed-maker’s +shop we noticed several beds, which the man had made, standing on +the pavement outside. The Doctor started chatting in Spanish to the +bed-maker who was sitting at his door whistling to a parrot in a cage. +The Doctor and the bed-maker got very friendly talking about birds and +things. And as it grew near to supper-time the man asked us to stop and +sup with him. + +This of course we were very glad to do. And after the meal was over +(very nice dishes they were, mostly cooked in olive-oil—I particularly +liked the fried bananas) we sat outside on the pavement again and went +on talking far into the night. + +At last when we got up to go back to our ship, this very nice +shopkeeper wouldn’t hear of our going away on any account. He said the +streets down by the harbor were very badly lighted and there was no +moon. We would surely get lost. He invited us to spend the night with +him and go back to our ship in the morning. + +Well, we finally agreed; and as our good friend had no spare bedrooms, +the three of us, the Doctor, Bumpo and I, slept on the beds set out for +sale on the pavement before the shop. The night was so hot we needed +no coverings. It was great fun to fall asleep out of doors like this, +watching the people walking to and fro and the gay life of the streets. +It seemed to me that Spanish people never went to bed at all. Late as +it was, all the little restaurants and cafés around us were wide open, +with customers drinking coffee and chatting merrily at the small tables +outside. The sound of a guitar strumming softly in the distance mingled +with the clatter of chinaware and the babble of voices. + +Somehow it made me think of my mother and father far away in Puddleby, +with their regular habits, the evening practise on the flute and the +rest—doing the same thing every day. I felt sort of sorry for them in +a way, because they missed the fun of this traveling life, where we +were doing something new all the time—even sleeping differently. But +I suppose if they had been invited to go to bed on a pavement in front +of a shop they wouldn’t have cared for the idea at all. It is funny how +some people are. + +[Illustration: “The Doctor started chatting in Spanish to the +bed-maker”] + + + + +_THE SEVENTH CHAPTER_ + +THE DOCTOR’S WAGER + + +NEXT morning we were awakened by a great racket. There was a procession +coming down the street, a number of men in very gay clothes followed +by a large crowd of admiring ladies and cheering children. I asked the +Doctor who they were. + +“They are the bullfighters,” he said. “There is to be a bullfight +to-morrow.” + +“What is a bullfight?” I asked. + +To my great surprise the Doctor got red in the face with anger. It +reminded me of the time when he had spoken of the lions and tigers in +his private zoo. + +“A bullfight is a stupid, cruel, disgusting business,” said he. “These +Spanish people are most lovable and hospitable folk. How they can enjoy +these wretched bullfights is a thing I could never understand.” + +Then the Doctor went on to explain to me how a bull was first made very +angry by teasing and then allowed to run into a circus where men came +out with red cloaks, waved them at him, and ran away. Next the bull was +allowed to tire himself out by tossing and killing a lot of poor, old, +broken-down horses who couldn’t defend themselves. Then, when the bull +was thoroughly out of breath and wearied by this, a man came out with a +sword and killed the bull. + +“Every Sunday,” said the Doctor, “in almost every big town in Spain +there are six bulls killed like that and as many horses.” + +“But aren’t the men ever killed by the bull?” I asked. + +“Unfortunately very seldom,” said he. “A bull is not nearly as +dangerous as he looks, even when he’s angry, if you are only quick on +your feet and don’t lose your head. These bullfighters are very clever +and nimble. And the people, especially the Spanish ladies, think no +end of them. A famous bullfighter (or matador, as they call them) is +a more important man in Spain than a king—Here comes another crowd of +them round the corner, look. See the girls throwing kisses to them. +Ridiculous business!” + +At that moment our friend the bed-maker came out to see the procession +go past. And while he was wishing us good morning and enquiring how +we had slept, a friend of his walked up and joined us. The bed-maker +introduced this friend to us as Don Enrique Cardenas. + +Don Enrique when he heard where we were from, spoke to us in English. +He appeared to be a well-educated, gentlemanly sort of person. + +“And you go to see the bullfight to-morrow, yes?” he asked the Doctor +pleasantly. + +“Certainly not,” said John Dolittle firmly. “I don’t like +bullfights—cruel, cowardly shows.” + +Don Enrique nearly exploded. I never saw a man get so excited. He told +the Doctor that he didn’t know what he was talking about. He said +bullfighting was a noble sport and that the matadors were the bravest +men in the world. + +“Oh, rubbish!” said the Doctor. “You never give the poor bull a chance. +It is only when he is all tired and dazed that your precious matadors +dare to try and kill him.” + +I thought the Spaniard was going to strike the Doctor he got so angry. +While he was still spluttering to find words, the bed-maker came +between them and took the Doctor aside. He explained to John Dolittle +in a whisper that this Don Enrique Cardenas was a very important +person; that he it was who supplied the bulls—a special, strong black +kind—from his own farm for all the bullfights in the Capa Blancas. He +was a very rich man, the bed-maker said, a most important personage. He +mustn’t be allowed to take offense on any account. + +I watched the Doctor’s face as the bed-maker finished, and I saw a +flash of boyish mischief come into his eyes as though an idea had +struck him. He turned to the angry Spaniard. + +“Don Enrique,” he said, “you tell me your bullfighters are very +brave men and skilful. It seems I have offended you by saying that +bullfighting is a poor sport. What is the name of the best matador you +have for to-morrow’s show?” + +“Pepito de Malaga,” said Don Enrique, “one of the greatest names, one +of the bravest men, in all Spain.” + +“Very well,” said the Doctor, “I have a proposal to make to you. I +have never fought a bull in my life. Now supposing I were to go into +the ring to-morrow with Pepito de Malaga and any other matadors you +choose; and if I can do more tricks with a bull than they can, would +you promise to do something for me?” + +Don Enrique threw back his head and laughed. + +“Man,” he said, “you must be mad! You would be killed at once. One has +to be trained for years to become a proper bullfighter.” + +“Supposing I were willing to take the risk of that—You are not afraid, +I take it, to accept my offer?” + +The Spaniard frowned. + +“Afraid!” he cried, “Sir, if you can beat Pepito de Malaga in the +bull-ring I’ll promise you anything it is possible for me to grant.” + +“Very good,” said the Doctor, “now I understand that you are quite a +powerful man in these islands. If you wished to stop all bullfighting +here after to-morrow, you could do it, couldn’t you?” + +“Yes,” said Don Enrique proudly—“I could.” + +“Well that is what I ask of you—if I win my wager,” said John Dolittle. +“If I can do more with angry bulls than can Pepito de Malaga, you are +to promise me that there shall never be another bullfight in the Capa +Blancas so long as you are alive to stop it. Is it a bargain?” + +The Spaniard held out his hand. + +“It is a bargain,” he said—“I promise. But I must warn you that you +are merely throwing your life away, for you will certainly be killed. +However, that is no more than you deserve for saying that bullfighting +is an unworthy sport. I will meet you here to-morrow morning if you +should wish to arrange any particulars. Good day, Sir.” + +As the Spaniard turned and walked into the shop with the bed-maker, +Polynesia, who had been listening as usual, flew up on to my shoulder +and whispered in my ear, + +“I have a plan. Get hold of Bumpo and come some place where the Doctor +can’t hear us. I want to talk to you.” + +I nudged Bumpo’s elbow and we crossed the street and pretended to look +into a jeweler’s window; while the Doctor sat down upon his bed to lace +up his boots, the only part of his clothing he had taken off for the +night. + +“Listen,” said Polynesia, “I’ve been breaking my head trying to think +up some way we can get money to buy those stores with; and at last I’ve +got it.” + +“The money?” said Bumpo. + +“No, stupid. The idea—to make the money with. Listen: the Doctor is +simply bound to win this game to-morrow, sure as you’re alive. Now all +we have to do is to make a side bet with these Spaniards—they’re great +on gambling—and the trick’s done.” + +“What’s a side bet?” I asked. + +“Oh I know what that is,” said Bumpo proudly. “We used to have lots of +them at Oxford when boat-racing was on. I go to Don Enrique and say, +‘I bet you a hundred pounds the Doctor wins.’ Then if he does win, Don +Enrique pays me a hundred pounds; and if he doesn’t, I have to pay Don +Enrique.” + +“That’s the idea,” said Polynesia. “Only don’t say a hundred pounds: +say two-thousand five-hundred pesetas. Now come and find old Don +Ricky-ticky and try to look rich.” + +So we crossed the street again and slipped into the bed-maker’s shop +while the Doctor was still busy with his boots. + +“Don Enrique,” said Bumpo, “allow me to introduce myself. I am the +Crown Prince of Jolliginki. Would you care to have a small bet with me +on to-morrow’s bullfight?” + +Don Enrique bowed. + +“Why certainly,” he said, “I shall be delighted. But I must warn you +that you are bound to lose. How much?” + +“Oh a mere truffle,” said Bumpo—“just for the fun of the thing, you +know. What do you say to three-thousand pesetas?” + +“I agree,” said the Spaniard bowing once more. “I will meet you after +the bullfight to-morrow.” + +“So that’s all right,” said Polynesia as we came out to join the +Doctor. “I feel as though quite a load had been taken off my mind.” + + + + +_THE EIGHTH CHAPTER_ + +THE GREAT BULLFIGHT + + +THE next day was a great day in Monteverde. All the streets were +hung with flags; and everywhere gaily dressed crowds were to be seen +flocking towards the bull-ring, as the big circus was called where the +fights took place. + +The news of the Doctor’s challenge had gone round the town and, it +seemed, had caused much amusement to the islanders. The very idea of +a mere foreigner daring to match himself against the great Pepito de +Malaga!—Serve him right if he got killed! + +The Doctor had borrowed a bullfighter’s suit from Don Enrique; and very +gay and wonderful he looked in it, though Bumpo and I had hard work +getting the waistcoat to close in front and even then the buttons kept +bursting off it in all directions. + +When we set out from the harbor to walk to the bull-ring, crowds of +small boys ran after us making fun of the Doctor’s fatness, calling +out, “_Juan Hagapoco, el grueso matador!_” which is the Spanish for, +“John Dolittle, the fat bullfighter.” + +As soon as we arrived the Doctor said he would like to take a look +at the bulls before the fight began; and we were at once led to the +bull pen where, behind a high railing, six enormous black bulls were +tramping around wildly. + +In a few hurried words and signs the Doctor told the bulls what he was +going to do and gave them careful instructions for their part of the +show. The poor creatures were tremendously glad when they heard that +there was a chance of bullfighting being stopped; and they promised to +do exactly as they were told. + +Of course the man who took us in there didn’t understand what we were +doing. He merely thought the fat Englishman was crazy when he saw the +Doctor making signs and talking in ox tongue. + +From there the Doctor went to the matadors’ dressing-rooms while Bumpo +and I with Polynesia made our way into the bull-ring and took our seats +in the great open-air theatre. + +It was a very gay sight. Thousands of ladies and gentlemen were there, +all dressed in their smartest clothes; and everybody seemed very happy +and cheerful. + +Right at the beginning Don Enrique got up and explained to the people +that the first item on the program was to be a match between the +English Doctor and Pepito de Malaga. He told them what he had promised +if the Doctor should win. But the people did not seem to think there +was much chance of that. A roar of laughter went up at the very +mention of such a thing. + +When Pepito came into the ring everybody cheered, the ladies blew +kisses and the men clapped and waved their hats. + +Presently a large door on the other side of the ring was rolled back +and in galloped one of the bulls; then the door was closed again. At +once the matador became very much on the alert. He waved his red cloak +and the bull rushed at him. Pepito stepped nimbly aside and the people +cheered again. + +This game was repeated several times. But I noticed that whenever +Pepito got into a tight place and seemed to be in real danger from the +bull, an assistant of his, who always hung around somewhere near, drew +the bull’s attention upon himself by waving another red cloak. Then +the bull would chase the assistant and Pepito was left in safety. Most +often, as soon as he had drawn the bull off, this assistant ran for the +high fence and vaulted out of the ring to save himself. They evidently +had it all arranged, these matadors; and it didn’t seem to me that they +were in any very great danger from the poor clumsy bull so long as they +didn’t slip and fall. + +After about ten minutes of this kind of thing the small door into the +matadors’ dressing-room opened and the Doctor strolled into the ring. +As soon as his fat figure, dressed in sky-blue velvet, appeared, the +crowd rocked in their seats with laughter. + +Juan Hagapoco, as they had called him, walked out into the centre of +the ring and bowed ceremoniously to the ladies in the boxes. Then he +bowed to the bull. Then he bowed to Pepito. While he was bowing to +Pepito’s assistant the bull started to rush at him from behind. + +“Look out! Look out!—The bull! You will be killed!” yelled the crowd. + +But the Doctor calmly finished his bow. Then turning round he folded +his arms, fixed the on-rushing bull with his eye and frowned a terrible +frown. + +Presently a curious thing happened: the bull’s speed got slower and +slower. It almost looked as though he were afraid of that frown. Soon +he stopped altogether. The Doctor shook his finger at him. He began to +tremble. At last, tucking his tail between his legs, the bull turned +round and ran away. + +The crowd gasped. The Doctor ran after him. Round and round the ring +they went, both of them puffing and blowing like grampuses. Excited +whispers began to break out among the people. This was something new +in bullfighting, to have the bull running away from the man, instead +of the man away from the bull. At last in the tenth lap, with a final +burst of speed, Juan Hagapoco, the English matador, caught the poor +bull by the tail. + +Then leading the now timid creature into the middle of the ring, the +Doctor made him do all manner of tricks: standing on the hind legs, +standing on the front legs, dancing, hopping, rolling over. He finished +up by making the bull kneel down; then he got on to his back and did +handsprings and other acrobatics on the beast’s horns. + +Pepito and his assistant had their noses sadly out of joint. The crowd +had forgotten them entirely. They were standing together by the fence +not far from where I sat, muttering to one another and slowly growing +green with jealousy. + +Finally the Doctor turned towards Don Enrique’s seat and bowing said in +a loud voice, “This bull is no good any more. He’s terrified and out of +breath. Take him away, please.” + +“Does the caballero wish for a fresh bull?” asked Don Enrique. + +“No,” said the Doctor, “I want five fresh bulls. And I would like them +all in the ring at once, please.” + +At this a cry of horror burst from the people. They had been used to +seeing matadors escaping from one bull at a time. But _five_!—That must +mean certain death. + +Pepito sprang forward and called to Don Enrique not to allow it, saying +it was against all the rules of bullfighting. (“Ha!” Polynesia +chuckled into my ear. “It’s like the Doctor’s navigation: he breaks all +the rules; but he gets there. If they’ll only let him, he’ll give them +the best show for their money they ever saw.”) A great argument began. +Half the people seemed to be on Pepito’s side and half on the Doctor’s +side. At last the Doctor turned to Pepito and made another very grand +bow which burst the last button off his waistcoat. + +[Illustration: “Did acrobatics on the beast’s horns”] + +“Well, of course if the caballero is afraid—” he began with a bland +smile. + +“Afraid!” screamed Pepito. “I am afraid of nothing on earth. I am the +greatest matador in Spain. With this right hand I have killed nine +hundred and fifty-seven bulls.” + +“All right then,” said the Doctor, “let us see if you can kill five +more. Let the bulls in!” he shouted. “Pepito de Malaga is not afraid.” + +A dreadful silence hung over the great theatre as the heavy door into +the bull pen was rolled back. Then with a roar the five big bulls +bounded into the ring. + +“Look fierce,” I heard the Doctor call to them in cattle language. +“Don’t scatter. Keep close. Get ready for a rush. Take Pepito, the one +in purple, first. But for Heaven’s sake don’t kill him. Just chase him +out of the ring—Now then, all together, go for him!” + +The bulls put down their heads and all in line, like a squadron of +cavalry, charged across the ring straight for poor Pepito. + +For one moment the Spaniard tried his hardest to look brave. But the +sight of the five pairs of horns coming at him at full gallop was too +much. He turned white to the lips, ran for the fence, vaulted it and +disappeared. + +“Now the other one,” the Doctor hissed. And in two seconds the gallant +assistant was nowhere to be seen. Juan Hagapoco, the fat matador, was +left alone in the ring with five rampaging bulls. + +The rest of the show was really well worth seeing. First, all five +bulls went raging round the ring, butting at the fence with their +horns, pawing up the sand, hunting for something to kill. Then each one +in turn would pretend to catch sight of the Doctor for the first time +and giving a bellow of rage, would lower his wicked looking horns and +shoot like an arrow across the ring as though he meant to toss him to +the sky. + +It was really frightfully exciting. And even I, who knew it was all +arranged beforehand, held my breath in terror for the Doctor’s life +when I saw how near they came to sticking him. But just at the last +moment, when the horns’ points were two inches from the sky-blue +waistcoat, the Doctor would spring nimbly to one side and the great +brutes would go thundering harmlessly by, missing him by no more than a +hair. + +Then all five of them went for him together, completely surrounding +him, slashing at him with their horns and bellowing with fury. How he +escaped alive I don’t know. For several minutes his round figure could +hardly be seen at all in that scrimmage of tossing heads, stamping +hoofs and waving tails.—It was, as Polynesia had prophesied, the +greatest bullfight ever seen. + +One woman in the crowd got quite hysterical and screamed up to Don +Enrique, + +“Stop the fight! Stop the fight! He is too brave a man to be killed. +This is the most wonderful matador in the world. Let him live! Stop the +fight!” + +But presently the Doctor was seen to break loose from the mob of +animals that surrounded him. Then catching each of them by the horns, +one after another, he would give their heads a sudden twist and throw +them down flat on the sand. The great fellows acted their parts +extremely well. I have never seen trained animals in a circus do +better. They lay there panting on the ground where the Doctor threw +them as if they were exhausted and completely beaten. + +Then with a final bow to the ladies John Dolittle took a cigar from his +pocket, lit it and strolled out of the ring. + + + + +_THE NINTH CHAPTER_ + +WE DEPART IN A HURRY + + +AS soon as the door closed behind the Doctor the most tremendous noise +I have ever heard broke loose. Some of the men appeared to be angry +(friends of Pepito’s, I suppose); but the ladies called and called to +have the Doctor come back into the ring. + +When at length he did so, the women seemed to go entirely mad over him. +They blew kisses to him. They called him a darling. Then they started +taking off their flowers, their rings, their necklaces, and their +brooches and threw them down at his feet. You never saw anything like +it—a perfect shower of jewelry and roses. + +But the Doctor just smiled up at them, bowed once more and backed out. + +“Now, Bumpo,” said Polynesia, “this is where you go down and gather up +all those trinkets and we’ll sell ’em. That’s what the big matadors +do: leave the jewelry on the ground and their assistants collect +it for them. We might as well lay in a good supply of money while +we’ve got the chance—you never know when you may need it when you’re +traveling with the Doctor. Never mind the roses—you can leave them—but +don’t leave any rings. And when you’ve finished go and get your +three-thousand pesetas out of Don Ricky-ticky. Tommy and I will meet +you outside and we’ll pawn the gew-gaws at that Jew’s shop opposite the +bed-maker’s. Run along—and not a word to the Doctor, remember.” + +Outside the bull-ring we found the crowd still in a great state of +excitement. Violent arguments were going on everywhere. Bumpo joined +us with his pockets bulging in all directions; and we made our way +slowly through the dense crowd to that side of the building where the +matadors’ dressing-room was. The Doctor was waiting at the door for us. + +“Good work, Doctor!” said Polynesia, flying on to his shoulder—“Great +work!—But listen: I smell danger. I think you had better get back to +the ship now as quick and as quietly as you can. Put your overcoat on +over that giddy suit. I don’t like the looks of this crowd. More than +half of them are furious because you’ve won. Don Ricky-ticky must now +stop the bullfighting—and you know how they love it. What I’m afraid of +is that some of these matadors who are just mad with jealousy may start +some dirty work. I think this would be a good time for us to get away.” + +“I dare say you’re right, Polynesia,” said the Doctor—“You usually are. +The crowd does seem to be a bit restless. I’ll slip down to the ship +alone—so I shan’t be so noticeable; and I’ll wait for you there. You +come by some different way. But don’t be long about it. Hurry!” + +As soon as the Doctor had departed Bumpo sought out Don Enrique and +said, + +“Honorable Sir, you owe me three-thousand pesetas.” + +Without a word, but looking cross-eyed with annoyance, Don Enrique paid +his bet. + +We next set out to buy the provisions; and on the way we hired a cab +and took it along with us. + +Not very far away we found a big grocer’s shop which seemed to sell +everything to eat. We went in and bought up the finest lot of food you +ever saw in your life. + +As a matter of fact, Polynesia had been right about the danger we were +in. The news of our victory must have spread like lightning through the +whole town. For as we came out of the shop and loaded the cab up with +our stores, we saw various little knots of angry men hunting round the +streets, waving sticks and shouting, + +“The Englishmen! Where are those accursed Englishmen who stopped the +bullfighting?—Hang them to a lamp-post!—Throw them in the sea! The +Englishmen!—We want the Englishmen!” + +After that we didn’t waste any time, you may be sure. Bumpo grabbed the +Spanish cab-driver and explained to him in signs that if he didn’t +drive down to the harbor as fast as he knew how and keep his mouth shut +the whole way, he would choke the life out of him. Then we jumped into +the cab on top of the food, slammed the door, pulled down the blinds +and away we went. + +“We won’t get a chance to pawn the jewelry now,” said Polynesia, as we +bumped over the cobbly streets. “But never mind—it may come in handy +later on. And anyway we’ve got two-thousand five-hundred pesetas left +out of the bet. Don’t give the cabby more than two pesetas fifty, +Bumpo. That’s the right fare, I know.” + +Well, we reached the harbor all right and we were mighty glad to find +that the Doctor had sent Chee-Chee back with the row-boat to wait for +us at the landing-wall. + +Unfortunately while we were in the middle of loading the supplies from +the cab into the boat, the angry mob arrived upon the wharf and made +a rush for us. Bumpo snatched up a big beam of wood that lay near +and swung it round and round his head, letting out dreadful African +battle-yells the while. This kept the crowd off while Chee-Chee and +I hustled the last of the stores into the boat and clambered in +ourselves. Bumpo threw his beam of wood into the thick of the Spaniards +and leapt in after us. Then we pushed off and rowed like mad for the +_Curlew_. + +The mob upon the wall howled with rage, shook their fists and hurled +stones and all manner of things after us. Poor old Bumpo got hit on the +head with a bottle. But as he had a very strong head it only raised a +small bump while the bottle smashed into a thousand pieces. + +When we reached the ship’s side the Doctor had the anchor drawn up and +the sails set and everything in readiness to get away. Looking back we +saw boats coming out from the harbor-wall after us, filled with angry, +shouting men. So we didn’t bother to unload our rowboat but just tied +it on to the ship’s stern with a rope and jumped aboard. + +It only took a moment more to swing the _Curlew_ round into the wind; +and soon we were speeding out of the harbor on our way to Brazil. + +“Ha!” sighed Polynesia, as we all flopped down on the deck to take a +rest and get our breath. “That wasn’t a bad adventure—quite reminds +me of my old seafaring days when I sailed with the smugglers—Golly, +that was the life!—Never mind your head, Bumpo. It will be all right +when the Doctor puts a little arnica on it. Think what we got out of +the scrap: a boat-load of ship’s stores, pockets full of jewelry and +thousands of pesetas. Not bad, you know—not bad.” + +[Illustration] + + + + +PART FOUR + + + + +_THE FIRST CHAPTER_ + +SHELLFISH LANGUAGES AGAIN + + +MIRANDA, the Purple Bird-of-Paradise had prophesied rightly when she +had foretold a good spell of weather. For three weeks the good ship +_Curlew_ plowed her way through smiling seas before a steady powerful +wind. + +I suppose most real sailors would have found this part of the voyage +dull. But not I. As we got further South and further West the face +of the sea seemed different every day. And all the little things of +a voyage which an old hand would have hardly bothered to notice were +matters of great interest for my eager eyes. + +We did not pass many ships. When we did see one, the Doctor would get +out his telescope and we would all take a look at it. Sometimes he +would signal to it, asking for news, by hauling up little colored flags +upon the mast; and the ship would signal back to us in the same way. +The meaning of all the signals was printed in a book which the Doctor +kept in the cabin. He told me it was the language of the sea and that +all ships could understand it whether they be English, Dutch, or +French. + +Our greatest happening during those first weeks was passing an iceberg. +When the sun shone on it it burst into a hundred colors, sparkling +like a jeweled palace in a fairy-story. Through the telescope we saw +a mother polar bear with a cub sitting on it, watching us. The Doctor +recognized her as one of the bears who had spoken to him when he was +discovering the North Pole. So he sailed the ship up close and offered +to take her and her baby on to the _Curlew_ if she wished it. But she +only shook her head, thanking him; she said it would be far too hot for +the cub on the deck of our ship, with no ice to keep his feet cool. It +had been indeed a very hot day; but the nearness of that great mountain +of ice made us all turn up our coat-collars and shiver with the cold. + +During those quiet peaceful days I improved my reading and writing a +great deal with the Doctor’s help. I got on so well that he let me keep +the ship’s log. This is a big book kept on every ship, a kind of diary, +in which the number of miles run, the direction of your course and +everything else that happens is written down. + +The Doctor too, in what spare time he had, was nearly always writing—in +his note-books. I used to peep into these sometimes, now that I could +read, but I found it hard work to make out the Doctor’s handwriting. +Many of these note-books seemed to be about sea things. There were six +thick ones filled full with notes and sketches of different seaweeds; +and there were others on sea birds; others on sea worms; others on +seashells. They were all some day to be re-written, printed and bound +like regular books. + +One afternoon we saw, floating around us, great quantities of stuff +that looked like dead grass. The Doctor told me this was gulf-weed. A +little further on it became so thick that it covered all the water as +far as the eye could reach; it made the _Curlew_ look as though she +were moving across a meadow instead of sailing the Atlantic. + +Crawling about upon this weed, many crabs were to be seen. And the +sight of them reminded the Doctor of his dream of learning the language +of the shellfish. He fished several of these crabs up with a net and +put them in his listening-tank to see if he could understand them. +Among the crabs he also caught a strange-looking, chubby, little fish +which he told me was called a Silver Fidgit. + +After he had listened to the crabs for a while with no success, he put +the fidgit into the tank and began to listen to that. I had to leave +him at this moment to go and attend to some duties on the deck. But +presently I heard him below shouting for me to come down again. + +“Stubbins,” he cried as soon as he saw me—“a most extraordinary +thing—Quite unbelievable—I’m not sure whether I’m dreaming—Can’t +believe my own senses. I—I—I—” + +[Illustration: “‘He talks English!’”] + +“Why, Doctor,” I said, “what is it?—What’s the matter?” + +“The fidgit,” he whispered, pointing with a trembling finger to the +listening-tank in which the little round fish was still swimming +quietly, “he talks English! And—and—and _he whistles tunes_—English +tunes!” + +“Talks English!” I cried—“Whistles!—Why, it’s impossible.” + +“It’s a fact,” said the Doctor, white in the face with excitement. +“It’s only a few words, scattered, with no particular sense to them—all +mixed up with his own language which I can’t make out yet. But they’re +English words, unless there’s something very wrong with my hearing—And +the tune he whistles, it’s as plain as anything—always the same tune. +Now you listen and tell me what you make of it. Tell me everything you +hear. Don’t miss a word.” + +I went to the glass tank upon the table while the Doctor grabbed a +note-book and a pencil. Undoing my collar I stood upon the empty +packing-case he had been using for a stand and put my right ear down +under the water. + +For some moments I detected nothing at all—except, with my dry ear, the +heavy breathing of the Doctor as he waited, all stiff and anxious, for +me to say something. At last from within the water, sounding like a +child singing miles and miles away, I heard an unbelievably thin, small +voice. + +“Ah!” I said. + +“What is it?” asked the Doctor in a hoarse, trembly whisper. “What does +he say?” + +“I can’t quite make it out,” I said. “It’s mostly in some strange fish +language—Oh, but wait a minute!—Yes, now I get it—‘No smoking’.... ‘My, +here’s a queer one!’ ‘Popcorn and picture postcards here’.... ‘This +way out’.... ‘Don’t spit’—What funny things to say, Doctor!—Oh, but +wait!—Now he’s whistling the tune.” + +“What tune is it?” gasped the Doctor. + +“John Peel.” + +“Ah hah,” cried the Doctor, “that’s what I made it out to be.” And he +wrote furiously in his note-book. + +I went on listening. + +“This is most extraordinary,” the Doctor kept muttering to himself +as his pencil went wiggling over the page—“Most extraordinary—but +frightfully thrilling. I wonder where he—” + +“Here’s some more,” I cried—“some more English.... ‘_The big tank needs +cleaning_’.... That’s all. Now he’s talking fish-talk again.” + +“The big tank!” the Doctor murmured frowning in a puzzled kind of way. +“I wonder where on earth he learned—” + +Then he bounded up out of his chair. + +“I have it,” he yelled, “this fish has escaped from an aquarium. +Why, of course! Look at the kind of things he has learned: ‘Picture +postcards’—they always sell them in aquariums; ‘Don’t spit’; ‘No +smoking’; ‘This way out’—the things the attendants say. And then, ‘My, +here’s a queer one!’ That’s the kind of thing that people exclaim +when they look into the tanks. It all fits. There’s no doubt about +it, Stubbins: we have here a fish who has escaped from captivity. And +it’s quite possible—not certain, by any means, but quite possible—that +I may now, through him, be able to establish communication with the +shellfish. This is a great piece of luck.” + + + + +_THE SECOND CHAPTER_ + +THE FIDGIT’S STORY + + +WELL, now that he was started once more upon his old hobby of the +shellfish languages, there was no stopping the Doctor. He worked right +through the night. + +A little after midnight I fell asleep in a chair; about two in the +morning Bumpo fell asleep at the wheel; and for five hours the _Curlew_ +was allowed to drift where she liked. But still John Dolittle worked +on, trying his hardest to understand the fidgit’s language, struggling +to make the fidgit understand him. + +When I woke up it was broad daylight again. The Doctor was still +standing at the listening-tank, looking as tired as an owl and +dreadfully wet. But on his face there was a proud and happy smile. + +“Stubbins,” he said as soon as he saw me stir, “I’ve done it. I’ve +got the key to the fidgit’s language. It’s a frightfully difficult +language—quite different from anything I ever heard. The only thing it +reminds me of—slightly—is ancient Hebrew. It isn’t shellfish; but it’s +a big step towards it. Now, the next thing, I want you to take a pencil +and a fresh notebook and write down everything I say. The fidgit has +promised to tell me the story of his life. I will translate it into +English and you put it down in the book. Are you ready?” + +Once more the Doctor lowered his ear beneath the level of the water; +and as he began to speak, I started to write. And this is the story +that the fidgit told us. + + + THIRTEEN MONTHS IN AN AQUARIUM + + “I was born in the Pacific Ocean, close to the coast + of Chile. I was one of a family of two-thousand + five-hundred and ten. Soon after our mother and father + left us, we youngsters got scattered. The family was + broken up—by a herd of whales who chased us. I and + my sister, Clippa (she was my favorite sister) had a + very narrow escape for our lives. As a rule, whales + are not very hard to get away from if you are good at + dodging—if you’ve only got a quick swerve. But this + one that came after Clippa and myself was a very mean + whale. Every time he lost us under a stone or something + he’d come back and hunt and hunt till he routed us + out into the open again. I never saw such a nasty, + persevering brute. + + “Well, we shook him at last—though not before he had + worried us for hundreds of miles northward, up the + west coast of South America. But luck was against us + that day. While we were resting and trying to get our + breath, another family of fidgits came rushing by, + shouting, ‘Come on! Swim for your lives! The dog-fish + are coming!’ + + “Now dog-fish are particularly fond of fidgits. We are, + you might say, their favorite food—and for that reason + we always keep away from deep, muddy waters. What’s + more, dog-fish are not easy to escape from; they are + terribly fast and clever hunters. So up we had to jump + and on again. + + “After we had gone a few more hundred miles we looked + back and saw that the dog-fish were gaining on us. So + we turned into a harbor. It happened to be one on the + west coast of the United States. Here we guessed, and + hoped, the dog-fish would not be likely to follow us. + As it happened, they didn’t even see us turn in, but + dashed on northward and we never saw them again. I hope + they froze to death in the Arctic Seas. + + “But, as I said, luck was against us that day. While + I and my sister were cruising gently round the ships + anchored in the harbor looking for orange-peels, a + great delicacy with us—_Swoop! Bang!_—we were caught in + a net. + + “We struggled for all we were worth; but it was no use. + The net was small-meshed and strongly made. Kicking + and flipping we were hauled up the side of the ship + and dumped down on the deck, high and dry in a blazing + noon-day sun. + + “Here a couple of old men in whiskers and spectacles + leant over us, making strange sounds. Some codling had + got caught in the net the same time as we were. These + the old men threw back into the sea; but us they seemed + to think very precious. They put us carefully into a + large jar and after they had taken us on shore they + went to a big house and changed us from the jar into + glass boxes full of water. This house was on the edge + of the harbor; and a small stream of sea-water was made + to flow through the glass tank so we could breathe + properly. Of course we had never lived inside glass + walls before; and at first we kept on trying to swim + through them and got our noses awfully sore bumping the + glass at full speed. + + “Then followed weeks and weeks of weary idleness. They + treated us well, so far as they knew how. The old + fellows in spectacles came and looked at us proudly + twice a day and saw that we had the proper food to eat, + the right amount of light and that the water was not + too hot or too cold. But oh, the dullness of that life! + It seemed we were a kind of a show. At a certain hour + every morning the big doors of the house were thrown + open and everybody in the city who had nothing special + to do came in and looked at us. There were other tanks + filled with different kinds of fishes all round the + walls of the big room. And the crowds would go from + tank to tank, looking in at us through the glass—with + their mouths open, like half-witted flounders. We got + so sick of it that we used to open our mouths back at + them; and this they seemed to think highly comical. + + “One day my sister said to me, ‘Think you, Brother, + that these strange creatures who have captured us can + talk?’ + + “‘Surely,’ said I, ‘have you not noticed that some talk + with the lips only, some with the whole face, and yet + others discourse with the hands? When they come quite + close to the glass you can hear them. Listen!’ + + “At that moment a female, larger than the rest, pressed + her nose up against the glass, pointed at me and said + to her young behind her, ‘Oh, look, here’s a queer one!’ + + “And then we noticed that they nearly always said this + when they looked in. And for a long time we thought + that such was the whole extent of the language, this + being a people of but few ideas. To help pass away the + weary hours we learned it by heart, ‘Oh, look, here’s + a queer one!’ But we never got to know what it meant. + Other phrases, however, we did get the meaning of; and + we even learned to read a little in man-talk. Many big + signs there were, set up upon the walls; and when we + saw that the keepers stopped the people from spitting + and smoking, pointed to these signs angrily and read + them out loud, we knew then that these writings + signified, _No Smoking_ and _Don’t Spit_. + + “Then in the evenings, after the crowd had gone, the + same aged male with one leg of wood, swept up the + peanut-shells with a broom every night. And while + he was so doing he always whistled the same tune to + himself. This melody we rather liked; and we learned + that too by heart—thinking it was part of the language. + + “Thus a whole year went by in this dismal place. Some + days new fishes were brought in to the other tanks; + and other days old fishes were taken out. At first we + had hoped we would only be kept here for a while, and + that after we had been looked at sufficiently we would + be returned to freedom and the sea. But as month after + month went by, and we were left undisturbed, our hearts + grew heavy within our prison-walls of glass and we + spoke to one another less and less. + + “One day, when the crowd was thickest in the big room, + a woman with a red face fainted from the heat. I + watched through the glass and saw that the rest of the + people got highly excited—though to me it did not seem + to be a matter of very great importance. They threw + cold water on her and carried her out into the open air. + + “This made me think mightily; and presently a great + idea burst upon me. + + “‘Sister,’ I said, turning to poor Clippa who was + sulking at the bottom of our prison trying to hide + behind a stone from the stupid gaze of the children who + thronged about our tank, ‘supposing that _we_ pretended + we were sick: do you think they would take us also from + this stuffy house?’ + + “‘Brother,’ said she wearily, ‘that they might do. But + most likely they would throw us on a rubbish-heap, + where we would die in the hot sun.’ + + “‘But,’ said I, ‘why should they go abroad to seek + a rubbish-heap, when the harbor is so close? While + we were being brought here I saw men throwing their + rubbish into the water. If they would only throw us + also there, we could quickly reach the sea.’ + + “‘The Sea!’ murmured poor Clippa with a far-away look + in her eyes (she had fine eyes, had my sister, Clippa). + ‘How like a dream it sounds—the Sea! Oh brother, will + we ever swim in it again, think you? Every night as I + lie awake on the floor of this evil-smelling dungeon I + hear its hearty voice ringing in my ears. How I have + longed for it! Just to feel it once again, the nice, + big, wholesome homeliness of it all! To jump, just to + jump from the crest of an Atlantic wave, laughing in + the trade wind’s spindrift, down into the blue-green + swirling trough! To chase the shrimps on a summer + evening, when the sky is red and the light’s all pink + within the foam! To lie on the top, in the doldrums’ + noonday calm, and warm your tummy in the tropic sun! + To wander hand in hand once more through the giant + seaweed forests of the Indian Ocean, seeking the + delicious eggs of the pop-pop! To play hide-and-seek + among the castles of the coral towns with their pearl + and jasper windows spangling the floor of the Spanish + Main! To picnic in the anemone-meadows, dim blue + and lilac-gray, that lie in the lowlands beyond the + South Sea Garden! To throw somersaults on the springy + sponge-beds of the Mexican Gulf! To poke about among + the dead ships and see what wonders and adventures lie + inside!—And then, on winter nights when the Northeaster + whips the water into froth, to swoop down and down to + get away from the cold, down to where the water’s warm + and dark, down and still down, till we spy the twinkle + of the fire-eels far below where our friends and + cousins sit chatting round the Council Grotto—chatting, + Brother, over the news and gossip of _the Sea_!... Oh—’ + + “And then she broke down completely, sniffling. + + “‘Stop it!’ I said. ‘You make me homesick. Look here: + let’s pretend we’re sick—or better still, let’s pretend + we’re dead; and see what happens. If they throw us on a + rubbish-heap and we fry in the sun, we’ll not be much + worse off than we are here in this smelly prison. What + do you say? Will you risk it?’ + + “‘I will,’ she said—‘and gladly.’ + + “So next morning two fidgits were found by the keeper + floating on the top of the water in their tank, stiff + and dead. We gave a mighty good imitation of dead + fish—although I say it myself. The keeper ran and + got the old gentlemen with spectacles and whiskers. + They threw up their hands in horror when they saw us. + Lifting us carefully out of the water they laid us on + wet cloths. That was the hardest part of all. If you’re + a fish and get taken out of the water you have to keep + opening and shutting your mouth to breathe at all—and + even that you can’t keep up for long. And all this time + we had to stay stiff as sticks and breathe silently + through half-closed lips. + + “Well, the old fellows poked us and felt us and pinched + us till I thought they’d never be done. Then, when + their backs were turned a moment, a wretched cat got + up on the table and nearly ate us. Luckily the old + men turned round in time and shooed her away. You may + be sure though that we took a couple of good gulps + of air while they weren’t looking; and that was the + only thing that saved us from choking. I wanted to + whisper to Clippa to be brave and stick it out. But I + couldn’t even do that; because, as you know, most kinds + of fish-talk cannot be heard—not even a shout—unless + you’re under water. + + “Then, just as we were about to give it up and let on + that we were alive, one of the old men shook his head + sadly, lifted us up and carried us out of the building. + + “‘Now for it!’ I thought to myself. ‘We’ll soon know + our fate: liberty or the garbage-can.’ + + “Outside, to our unspeakable horror, he made straight + for a large ash-barrel which stood against the wall on + the other side of a yard. Most happily for us, however, + while he was crossing this yard a very dirty man with a + wagon and horses drove up and took the ash-barrel away. + I suppose it was his property. + + “Then the old man looked around for some other place to + throw us. He seemed about to cast us upon the ground. + But he evidently thought that this would make the yard + untidy and he desisted. The suspense was terrible. He + moved outside the yard-gate and my heart sank once more + as I saw that he now intended to throw us in the gutter + of the roadway. But (fortune was indeed with us that + day), a large man in blue clothes and silver buttons + stopped him in the nick of time. Evidently, from the + way the large man lectured and waved a short thick + stick, it was against the rules of the town to throw + dead fish in the streets. + + “At last, to our unutterable joy, the old man turned + and moved off with us towards the harbor. He walked so + slowly, muttering to himself all the way and watching + the man in blue out of the corner of his eye, that I + wanted to bite his finger to make him hurry up. Both + Clippa and I were actually at our last gasp. + + “Finally he reached the sea-wall and giving us one last + sad look he dropped us into the waters of the harbor. + + “Never had we realized anything like the thrill of + that moment, as we felt the salt wetness close over + our heads. With one flick of our tails we came to life + again. The old man was so surprised that he fell right + into the water, almost on top of us. From this he was + rescued by a sailor with a boat-hook; and the last we + saw of him, the man in blue was dragging him away by + the coat-collar, lecturing him again. Apparently it was + also against the rules of the town to throw dead fish + into the harbor. + + “But we?—What time or thought had we for his troubles? + _We were free!_ In lightning leaps, in curving spurts, + in crazy zig-zags—whooping, shrieking with delight, we + sped for home and the open sea! + + “That is all of my story and I will now, as I promised + last night, try to answer any questions you may ask + about the sea, on condition that I am set at liberty as + soon as you have done.” + + _The Doctor:_ “Is there any part of the sea deeper than + that known as the Nero Deep—I mean the one near the + Island of Guam?” + + _The Fidgit:_ “Why, certainly. There’s one much deeper + than that near the mouth of the Amazon River. But it’s + small and hard to find. We call it ‘The Deep Hole.’ And + there’s another in the Antarctic Sea.” + + _The Doctor:_ “Can you talk any shellfish language + yourself?” + + _The Fidgit:_ “No, not a word. We regular fishes don’t + have anything to do with the shellfish. We consider + them a low class.” + + _The Doctor:_ “But when you’re near them, can you hear + the sound they make talking—I mean without necessarily + understanding what they say?” + + _The Fidgit:_ “Only with the very largest ones. + Shellfish have such weak small voices it is almost + impossible for any but their own kind to hear them. But + with the bigger ones it is different. They make a sad, + booming noise, rather like an iron pipe being knocked + with a stone—only not nearly so loud of course.” + + _The Doctor:_ “I am most anxious to get down to the + bottom of the sea—to study many things. But we land + animals, as you no doubt know, are unable to breathe + under water. Have you any ideas that might help me?” + + _The Fidgit:_ “I think that for both your difficulties + the best thing for you to do would be to try and get + hold of the Great Glass Sea Snail.” + + _The Doctor:_ “Er—who, or what, is the Great Glass Sea + Snail?” + + _The Fidgit:_ “He is an enormous salt-water snail, + one of the winkle family, but as large as a big house. + He talks quite loudly—when he speaks, but this is not + often. He can go to any part of the ocean, at all + depths because he doesn’t have to be afraid of any + creature in the sea. His shell is made of transparent + mother-o’-pearl so that you can see through it; but + it’s thick and strong. When he is out of his shell + and he carries it empty on his back, there is room in + it for a wagon and a pair of horses. He has been seen + carrying his food in it when traveling.” + + _The Doctor:_ “I feel that that is just the creature + I have been looking for. He could take me and my + assistant inside his shell and we could explore the + deepest depths in safety. Do you think you could get + him for me?” + + _The Fidgit:_ “Alas! no. I would willingly if I could; + but he is hardly ever seen by ordinary fish. He lives + at the bottom of the Deep Hole, and seldom comes + out—And into the Deep Hole, the lower waters of which + are muddy, fishes such as we are afraid to go.” + + _The Doctor:_ “Dear me! That’s a terrible + disappointment. Are there many of this kind of snail in + the sea?” + + _The Fidgit:_ “Oh no. He is the only one in existence, + since his second wife died long, long ago. He is the + last of the Giant Shellfish. He belongs to past ages + when the whales were land-animals and all that. They + say he is over seventy thousand years old.” + + _The Doctor:_ “Good Gracious, what wonderful things he + could tell me! I do wish I could meet him.” + + _The Fidgit:_ “Were there any more questions you wished + to ask me? This water in your tank is getting quite + warm and sickly. I’d like to be put back into the sea + as soon as you can spare me.” + + _The Doctor:_ “Just one more thing: when Christopher + Columbus crossed the Atlantic in 1492, he threw + overboard two copies of his diary sealed up in barrels. + One of them was never found. It must have sunk. I would + like to get it for my library. Do you happen to know + where it is?” + + _The Fidgit:_ “Yes, I do. That too is in the Deep Hole. + When the barrel sank the currents drifted it northwards + down what we call the Orinoco Slope, till it finally + disappeared into the Deep Hole. If it was any other + part of the sea I’d try and get it for you; but not + there.” + + _The Doctor:_ “Well, that is all, I think. I hate to + put you back into the sea, because I know that as soon + as I do, I’ll think of a hundred other questions I + wanted to ask you. But I must keep my promise. Would + you care for anything before you go?—it seems a cold + day—some cracker-crumbs or something?” + + _The Fidgit:_ “No, I won’t stop. All I want just at + present is fresh sea-water.” + + _The Doctor:_ “I cannot thank you enough for all the + information you have given me. You have been very + helpful and patient.” + + _The Fidgit:_ “Pray do not mention it. It has been a + real pleasure to be of assistance to the great John + Dolittle. You are, as of course you know, already quite + famous among the better class of fishes. Goodbye!—and + good luck to you, to your ship and to all your plans!” + +The Doctor carried the listening-tank to a port-hole, opened it and +emptied the tank into the sea. + +“Good-bye!” he murmured as a faint splash reached us from without. + +I dropped my pencil on the table and leaned back with a sigh. My +fingers were so stiff with writers’ cramp that I felt as though I +should never be able to open my hand again. But I, at least, had had +a night’s sleep. As for the poor Doctor, he was so weary that he had +hardly put the tank back upon the table and dropped into a chair, when +his eyes closed and he began to snore. + +In the passage outside Polynesia scratched angrily at the door. I rose +and let her in. + +“A nice state of affairs!” she stormed. “What sort of a ship is this? +There’s that colored man upstairs asleep under the wheel; the Doctor +asleep down here; and you making pot-hooks in a copybook with a +pencil! Expect the ship to steer herself to Brazil? We’re just drifting +around the sea like an empty bottle—and a week behind time as it is. +What’s happened to you all?” + +She was so angry that her voice rose to a scream. But it would have +taken more than that to wake the Doctor. + +I put the note-book carefully in a drawer and went on deck to take the +wheel. + + + + +_THE THIRD CHAPTER_ + +BAD WEATHER + + +AS soon as I had the _Curlew_ swung round upon her course again I +noticed something peculiar: we were not going as fast as we had been. +Our favorable wind had almost entirely disappeared. + +This, at first, we did not worry about, thinking that at any moment it +might spring up again. But the whole day went by; then two days; then +a week,—ten days, and the wind grew no stronger. The _Curlew_ just +dawdled along at the speed of a toddling babe. + +I now saw that the Doctor was becoming uneasy. He kept getting out his +sextant (an instrument which tells you what part of the ocean you are +in) and making calculations. He was forever looking at his maps and +measuring distances on them. The far edge of the sea, all around us, he +examined with his telescope a hundred times a day. + +“But Doctor,” I said when I found him one afternoon mumbling to himself +about the misty appearance of the sky, “it wouldn’t matter so much, +would it, if we did take a little longer over the trip? We’ve got +plenty to eat on board now; and the Purple Bird-of-Paradise will know +that we have been delayed by something that we couldn’t help.” + +“Yes, I suppose so,” he said thoughtfully. “But I hate to keep her +waiting. At this season of the year she generally goes to the Peruvian +mountains—for her health. And besides, the good weather she prophesied +is likely to end any day now and delay us still further. If we could +only keep moving at even a fair speed, I wouldn’t mind. It’s this +hanging around, almost dead still, that gets me restless—Ah, here comes +a wind—Not very strong—but maybe it’ll grow.” + +A gentle breeze from the Northeast came singing through the ropes; and +we smiled up hopefully at the _Curlew’s_ leaning masts. + +“We’ve only got another hundred and fifty miles to make, to sight the +coast of Brazil,” said the Doctor. “If that wind would just stay with +us, steady, for a full day we’d see land.” + +But suddenly the wind changed, swung to the East, then back to the +Northeast—then to the North. It came in fitful gusts, as though it +hadn’t made up its mind which way to blow; and I was kept busy at the +wheel, swinging the _Curlew_ this way and that to keep the right side +of it. + +Presently we heard Polynesia, who was in the rigging keeping a look-out +for land or passing ships, screech down to us, + +“Bad weather coming. That jumpy wind is an ugly sign. And look!—over +there in the East—see that black line, low down? If that isn’t a +storm I’m a land-lubber. The gales round here are fierce, when they +do blow—tear your canvas out like paper. You take the wheel, Doctor: +it’ll need a strong arm if it’s a real storm. I’ll go wake Bumpo and +Chee-Chee. This looks bad to me. We’d best get all the sail down right +away, till we see how strong she’s going to blow.” + +Indeed the whole sky was now beginning to take on a very threatening +look. The black line to the eastward grew blacker as it came nearer +and nearer. A low, rumbly, whispering noise went moaning over the sea. +The water which had been so blue and smiling turned to a ruffled ugly +gray. And across the darkening sky, shreds of cloud swept like tattered +witches flying from the storm. + +I must confess I was frightened. You see I had only so far seen the +sea in friendly moods: sometimes quiet and lazy; sometimes laughing, +venturesome and reckless; sometimes brooding and poetic, when moonbeams +turned her ripples into silver threads and dreaming snowy night-clouds +piled up fairy-castles in the sky. But as yet I had not known, or even +guessed at, the terrible strength of the Sea’s wild anger. + +When that storm finally struck us we leaned right over flatly on our +side, as though some invisible giant had slapped the poor _Curlew_ on +the cheek. + +After that things happened so thick and so fast that what with the wind +that stopped your breath, the driving, blinding water, the deafening +noise and the rest, I haven’t a very clear idea of how our shipwreck +came about. + +I remember seeing the sails, which we were now trying to roll up upon +the deck, torn out of our hands by the wind and go overboard like a +penny balloon—very nearly carrying Chee-Chee with them. And I have a +dim recollection of Polynesia screeching somewhere for one of us to go +downstairs and close the port-holes. + +In spite of our masts being bare of sail we were now scudding along +to the southward at a great pace. But every once in a while huge +gray-black waves would arise from under the ship’s side like nightmare +monsters, swell and climb, then crash down upon us, pressing us into +the sea; and the poor _Curlew_ would come to a standstill, half under +water, like a gasping, drowning pig. + +While I was clambering along towards the wheel to see the Doctor, +clinging like a leech with hands and legs to the rails lest I be blown +overboard, one of these tremendous seas tore loose my hold, filled my +throat with water and swept me like a cork the full length of the deck. +My head struck a door with an awful bang. And then I fainted. + + + + +_THE FOURTH CHAPTER_ + +WRECKED! + + +WHEN I awoke I was very hazy in my head. The sky was blue and the sea +was calm. At first I thought that I must have fallen asleep in the sun +on the deck of the _Curlew_. And thinking that I would be late for my +turn at the wheel, I tried to rise to my feet. I found I couldn’t; my +arms were tied to something behind me with a piece of rope. By twisting +my neck around I found this to be a mast, broken off short. Then I +realized that I wasn’t sitting on a ship at all; I was only sitting on +a piece of one. I began to feel uncomfortably scared. Screwing up my +eyes, I searched the rim of the sea North, East, South and West: no +land: no ships; nothing was in sight. I was alone in the ocean! + +At last, little by little, my bruised head began to remember what had +happened: first, the coming of the storm; the sails going overboard; +then the big wave which had banged me against the door. But what had +become of the Doctor and the others? What day was this, to-morrow or +the day after?—And why was I sitting on only part of a ship? + +[Illustration: “I was alone in the ocean!”] + +Working my hand into my pocket, I found my penknife and cut the rope +that tied me. This reminded me of a shipwreck story which Joe had once +told me, of a captain who had tied his son to a mast in order that he +shouldn’t be washed overboard by the gale. So of course it must have +been the Doctor who had done the same to me. + +But where was he? + +The awful thought came to me that the Doctor and the rest of +them must be drowned, since there was no other wreckage to be +seen upon the waters. I got to my feet and stared around the sea +again—Nothing—nothing but water and sky! + +Presently a long way off I saw the small dark shape of a bird skimming +low down over the swell. When it came quite close I saw it was a Stormy +Petrel. I tried to talk to it, to see if it could give me news. But +unluckily I hadn’t learned much seabird language and I couldn’t even +attract its attention, much less make it understand what I wanted. + +Twice it circled round my raft, lazily, with hardly a flip of the +wing. And I could not help wondering, in spite of the distress I was +in, where it had spent last night—how it, or any other living thing, +had weathered such a smashing storm. It made me realize the great big +difference between different creatures; and that size and strength are +not everything. To this petrel, a frail little thing of feathers, much +smaller and weaker than I, the Sea could do anything she liked, it +seemed; and his only answer was a lazy, saucy flip of the wing! _He_ +was the one who should be called the _able seaman_. For, come raging +gale, come sunlit calm, this wilderness of water was his home. + +After swooping over the sea around me (just looking for food, I +supposed) he went off in the direction from which he had come. And I +was alone once more. + +I found I was somewhat hungry—and a little thirsty too. I began to +think all sorts of miserable thoughts, the way one does when he is +lonesome and has missed breakfast. What was going to become of me now, +if the Doctor and the rest were drowned? I would starve to death or +die of thirst. Then the sun went behind some clouds and I felt cold. +How many hundreds or thousands of miles was I from any land? What if +another storm should come and smash up even this poor raft on which I +stood? + +I went on like this for a while, growing gloomier and gloomier, when +suddenly I thought of Polynesia. “You’re always safe with the Doctor,” +she had said. “He gets there. Remember that.” + +I’m sure I wouldn’t have minded so much if he had been here with me. It +was this being all alone that made me want to weep. And yet the petrel +was alone!—What a baby I was, I told myself, to be scared to the verge +of tears just by loneliness! I was quite safe where I was—for the +present anyhow. John Dolittle wouldn’t get scared by a little thing +like this. He only got excited when he made a discovery, found a new +bug or something. And if what Polynesia had said was true, he couldn’t +be drowned and things would come out all right in the end somehow. + +I threw out my chest, buttoned up my collar and began walking up and +down the short raft to keep warm. I would be like John Dolittle. I +wouldn’t cry—And I wouldn’t get excited. + +How long I paced back and forth I don’t know. But it was a long +time—for I had nothing else to do. + +At last I got tired and lay down to rest. And in spite of all my +troubles, I soon fell fast asleep. + +This time when I woke up, stars were staring down at me out of a +cloudless sky. The sea was still calm; and my strange craft was rocking +gently under me on an easy swell. All my fine courage left me as I +gazed up into the big silent night and felt the pains of hunger and +thirst set to work in my stomach harder than ever. + +“Are you awake?” said a high silvery voice at my elbow. + +I sprang up as though some one had stuck a pin in me. And there, +perched at the very end of my raft, her beautiful golden tail glowing +dimly in the starlight, sat Miranda, the Purple Bird-of-Paradise! + +Never have I been so glad to see any one in my life. I almost fell into +the water as I leapt to hug her. + +“I didn’t want to wake you,” said she. “I guessed you must be tired +after all you’ve been through—Don’t squash the life out of me, boy: I’m +not a stuffed duck, you know.” + +“Oh, Miranda, you dear old thing,” said I, “I’m so glad to see you. +Tell me, where is the Doctor? Is he alive?” + +“Of course he’s alive—and it’s my firm belief he always will be. He’s +over there, about forty miles to the westward.” + +“What’s he doing there?” + +“He’s sitting on the other half of the _Curlew_ shaving himself—or he +was, when I left him.” + +“Well, thank Heaven he’s alive!” said I—“And Bumpo—and the animals, are +they all right?” + +“Yes, they’re with him. Your ship broke in half in the storm. The +Doctor had tied you down when he found you stunned. And the part you +were on got separated and floated away. Golly, it _was_ a storm! One +has to be a gull or an albatross to stand that sort of weather. I had +been watching for the Doctor for three weeks, from a cliff-top; but +last night I had to take refuge in a cave to keep my tail-feathers from +blowing out. As soon as I found the Doctor, he sent me off with some +porpoises to help us in our search. There had been quite a gathering +of sea-birds waiting to greet the Doctor; but the rough weather sort of +broke up the arrangements that had been made to welcome him properly. +It was the petrel that first gave us the tip where you were.” + +“Well, but how can I get to the Doctor, Miranda?—I haven’t any oars.” + +“Get to him!—Why, you’re going to him now. Look behind you.” + +I turned around. The moon was just rising on the sea’s edge. And I now +saw that my raft was moving through the water, but so gently that I had +not noticed it before. + +“What’s moving us?” I asked. + +“The porpoises,” said Miranda. + +I went to the back of the raft and looked down into the water. And just +below the surface I could see the dim forms of four big porpoises, +their sleek skins glinting in the moonlight, pushing at the raft with +their noses. + +“They’re old friends of the Doctor’s,” said Miranda. “They’d do +anything for John Dolittle. We should see his party soon now. We’re +pretty near the place I left them—Yes, there they are! See that dark +shape?—No, more to the right of where you’re looking. Can’t you +make out the figure of the black man standing against the sky?—Now +Chee-Chee spies us—he’s waving. Don’t you see them?” + +I didn’t—for my eyes were not as sharp as Miranda’s. But presently from +somewhere in the murky dusk I heard Bumpo singing his African comic +songs with the full force of his enormous voice. And in a little, by +peering and peering in the direction of the sound, I at last made out a +dim mass of tattered, splintered wreckage—all that remained of the poor +_Curlew_—floating low down upon the water. + +A hulloa came through the night. And I answered it. We kept it up, +calling to one another back and forth across the calm night sea. And a +few minutes later the two halves of our brave little ruined ship bumped +gently together again. + +Now that I was nearer and the moon was higher I could see more plainly. +Their half of the ship was much bigger than mine. + +It lay partly upon its side; and most of them were perched upon the top +munching ship’s biscuit. + +But close down to the edge of the water, using the sea’s calm surface +for a mirror and a piece of broken bottle for a razor, John Dolittle +was shaving his face by the light of the moon. + + + + +_THE FIFTH CHAPTER_ + +LAND! + + +THEY all gave me a great greeting as I clambered off my half of the +ship on to theirs. Bumpo brought me a wonderful drink of fresh water +which he drew from a barrel; and Chee-Chee and Polynesia stood around +me feeding me ship’s biscuit. + +But it was the sight of the Doctor’s smiling face—just knowing that I +was with him once again—that cheered me more than anything else. As I +watched him carefully wipe his glass razor and put it away for future +use, I could not help comparing him in my mind with the Stormy Petrel. +Indeed the vast strange knowledge which he had gained from his speech +and friendship with animals had brought him the power to do things +which no other human being would dare to try. Like the petrel, he could +apparently play with the sea in all her moods. It was no wonder that +many of the ignorant savage peoples among whom he passed in his voyages +made statues of him showing him as half a fish, half a bird, and half +a man. And ridiculous though it was, I could quite understand what +Miranda meant when she said she firmly believed that he could never +die. Just to be with him gave you a wonderful feeling of comfort and +safety. + +Except for his appearance (his clothes were crumpled and damp and his +battered high hat was stained with salt water) that storm which had +so terrified me had disturbed him no more than getting stuck on the +mud-bank in Puddleby River. + +Politely thanking Miranda for getting me so quickly, he asked her +if she would now go ahead of us and show us the way to Spidermonkey +Island. Next, he gave orders to the porpoises to leave my old piece of +the ship and push the bigger half wherever the Bird-of-Paradise should +lead us. + +How much he had lost in the wreck besides his razor I did not +know—everything, most likely, together with all the money he had saved +up to buy the ship with. And still he was smiling as though he wanted +for nothing in the world. The only things he had saved, as far as +I could see—beyond the barrel of water and bag of biscuit—were his +precious note-books. These, I saw when he stood up, he had strapped +around his waist with yards and yards of twine. He was, as old Matthew +Mugg used to say, a great man. He was unbelievable. + +And now for three days we continued our journey slowly but +steadily—southward. + +The only inconvenience we suffered from was the cold. This seemed +to increase as we went forward. The Doctor said that the island, +disturbed from its usual paths by the great gale, had evidently drifted +further South than it had ever been before. + +On the third night poor Miranda came back to us nearly frozen. She told +the Doctor that in the morning we would find the island quite close to +us, though we couldn’t see it now as it was a misty dark night. She +said that she must hurry back at once to a warmer climate; and that she +would visit the Doctor in Puddleby next August as usual. + +“Don’t forget, Miranda,” said John Dolittle, “if you should hear +anything of what happened to Long Arrow, to get word to me.” + +The Bird-of-Paradise assured him she would. And after the Doctor had +thanked her again and again for all that she had done for us, she +wished us good luck and disappeared into the night. + +We were all awake early in the morning, long before it was light, +waiting for our first glimpse of the country we had come so far to see. +And as the rising sun turned the eastern sky to gray, of course it +was old Polynesia who first shouted that she could see palm-trees and +mountain tops. + +With the growing light it became plain to all of us: a long island with +high rocky mountains in the middle—and so near to us that you could +almost throw your hat upon the shore. + +The porpoises gave us one last push and our strange-looking craft +bumped gently on a low beach. Then, thanking our lucky stars for +a chance to stretch our cramped legs, we all bundled off on to the +land—the first land, even though it was floating land, that we had +trodden for six weeks. What a thrill I felt as I realized that +Spidermonkey Island, the little spot in the atlas which my pencil had +touched, lay at last beneath my feet! + +When the light increased still further we noticed that the palms and +grasses of the island seemed withered and almost dead. The Doctor +said that it must be on account of the cold that the island was now +suffering from in its new climate. These trees and grasses, he told us, +were the kind that belonged to warm, tropical weather. + +The porpoises asked if we wanted them any further. And the Doctor said +that he didn’t think so, not for the present—nor the raft either, he +added; for it was already beginning to fall to pieces and could not +float much longer. + +As we were preparing to go inland and explore the island, we suddenly +noticed a whole band of Red Indians watching us with great curiosity +from among the trees. The Doctor went forward to talk to them. But +he could not make them understand. He tried by signs to show them +that he had come on a friendly visit. The Indians didn’t seem to like +us however. They had bows and arrows and long hunting spears, with +stone points, in their hands; and they made signs back to the Doctor +to tell him that if he came a step nearer they would kill us all. +They evidently wanted us to leave the island at once. It was a very +uncomfortable situation. + +At last the Doctor made them understand that he only wanted to see the +island all over and that then he would go away—though how he meant to +do it, with no boat to sail in, was more than I could imagine. + +While they were talking among themselves another Indian +arrived—apparently with a message that they were wanted in some +other part of the island. Because presently, shaking their spears +threateningly at us, they went off with the newcomer. + +“What discourteous pagans!” said Bumpo. “Did you ever see such +inhospitability?—Never even asked us if we’d had breakfast, the +benighted bounders!” + +“Sh! They’re going off to their village,” said Polynesia. “I’ll bet +there’s a village on the other side of those mountains. If you take my +advice, Doctor, you’ll get away from this beach while their backs are +turned. Let us go up into the higher land for the present—some place +where they won’t know where we are. They may grow friendlier when +they see we mean no harm. They have honest, open faces and look like +a decent crowd to me. They’re just ignorant—probably never saw white +folks before.” + +So, feeling a little bit discouraged by our first reception, we moved +off towards the mountains in the centre of the island. + + + + +_THE SIXTH CHAPTER_ + +THE JABIZRI + + +WE found the woods at the feet of the hills thick and tangly and +somewhat hard to get through. On Polynesia’s advice, we kept away from +all paths and trails, feeling it best to avoid meeting any Indians for +the present. + +But she and Chee-Chee were good guides and splendid jungle-hunters; and +the two of them set to work at once looking for food for us. In a very +short space of time they had found quite a number of different fruits +and nuts which made excellent eating, though none of us knew the names +of any of them. We discovered a nice clean stream of good water which +came down from the mountains; so we were supplied with something to +drink as well. + +We followed the stream up towards the heights. And presently we came to +parts where the woods were thinner and the ground rocky and steep. Here +we could get glimpses of wonderful views all over the island, with the +blue sea beyond. + +While we were admiring one of these the Doctor suddenly said, “Sh!—A +Jabizri!—Don’t you hear it?” + +We listened and heard, somewhere in the air about us, an +extraordinarily musical hum—like a bee, but not just one note. This hum +rose and fell, up and down—almost like some one singing. + +“No other insect but the Jabizri beetle hums like that,” said the +Doctor. “I wonder where he is—quite near, by the sound—flying among the +trees probably. Oh, if I only had my butterfly-net! Why didn’t I think +to strap that around my waist too. Confound the storm: I may miss the +chance of a lifetime now of getting the rarest beetle in the world—Oh +look! There he goes!” + +A huge beetle, easily three inches long I should say, suddenly flew by +our noses. The Doctor got frightfully excited. He took off his hat to +use as a net, swooped at the beetle and caught it. He nearly fell down +a precipice on to the rocks below in his wild hurry, but that didn’t +bother him in the least. He knelt down, chortling, upon the ground +with the Jabizri safe under his hat. From his pocket he brought out a +glass-topped box, and into this he very skilfully made the beetle walk +from under the rim of the hat. Then he rose up, happy as a child, to +examine his new treasure through the glass lid. + +It certainly was a most beautiful insect. It was pale blue underneath; +but its back was glossy black with huge red spots on it. + +“There isn’t an entymologist in the whole world who wouldn’t give +all he has to be in my shoes to-day,” said the Doctor—“Hulloa! This +Jabizri’s got something on his leg—Doesn’t look like mud. I wonder what +it is.” + +He took the beetle carefully out of the box and held it by its back +in his fingers, where it waved its six legs slowly in the air. We all +crowded about him peering at it. Rolled around the middle section of +its right foreleg was something that looked like a thin dried leaf. It +was bound on very neatly with strong spider-web. + +It was marvelous to see how John Dolittle with his fat heavy fingers +undid that cobweb cord and unrolled the leaf, whole, without tearing it +or hurting the precious beetle. The Jabizri he put back into the box. +Then he spread the leaf out flat and examined it. + +You can imagine our surprise when we found that the inside of the leaf +was covered with signs and pictures, drawn so tiny that you almost +needed a magnifying-glass to tell what they were. Some of the signs we +couldn’t make out at all; but nearly all of the pictures were quite +plain, figures of men and mountains mostly. The whole was done in a +curious sort of brown ink. + +For several moments there was a dead silence while we all stared at +the leaf, fascinated and mystified. + +“I think this is written in blood,” said the Doctor at last. “It +turns that color when it’s dry. Somebody pricked his finger to make +these pictures. It’s an old dodge when you’re short of ink—but highly +unsanitary—What an extraordinary thing to find tied to a beetle’s leg! +I wish I could talk beetle language, and find out where the Jabizri got +it from.” + +“But what is it?” I asked—“Rows of little pictures and signs. What do +you make of it, Doctor?” + +“It’s a letter,” he said—“a picture letter. All these little things put +together mean a message—But why give a message to a beetle to carry—and +to a Jabizri, the rarest beetle in the world?—What an extraordinary +thing!” + +Then he fell to muttering over the pictures. + +“I wonder what it means: men walking up a mountain; men walking into +a hole in a mountain; a mountain falling down—it’s a good drawing, +that; men pointing to their open mouths; bars—prison-bars, perhaps; men +praying; men lying down—they look as though they might be sick; and +last of all, just a mountain—a peculiar-shaped mountain.” + +All of a sudden the Doctor looked up sharply at me, a wonderful smile +of delighted understanding spreading over his face. + +“_Long Arrow!_” he cried, “don’t you see, Stubbins?—Why, of course! +Only a naturalist would think of doing a thing like this: giving his +letter to a beetle—not to a common beetle, but to the rarest of all, +one that other naturalists would try to catch—Well, well! Long Arrow!—A +picture-letter from Long Arrow. For pictures are the only writing that +he knows.” + +“Yes, but who is the letter to?” I asked. + +“It’s to me very likely. Miranda had told him, I know, years ago, that +some day I meant to come here. But if not for me, then it’s for any one +who caught the beetle and read it. It’s a letter to the world.” + +“Well, but what does it say? It doesn’t seem to me that it’s much good +to you now you’ve got it.” + +“Yes, it is,” he said, “because, look, I can read it now. First +picture: men walking up a mountain—that’s Long Arrow and his party; +men going into a hole in a mountain—they enter a cave looking for +medicine-plants or mosses; a mountain falling down—some hanging rocks +must have slipped and trapped them, imprisoned them in the cave. And +this was the only living creature that could carry a message for them +to the outside world—a beetle, who could _burrow_ his way into the open +air. Of course it was only a slim chance that the beetle would be ever +caught and the letter read. But it _was_ a chance; and when men are in +great danger they grab at any straw of hope.... All right. Now look at +the next picture: men pointing to their open mouths—they are hungry; +men praying—begging any one who finds this letter to come to their +assistance; men lying down—they are sick, or starving. This letter, +Stubbins, is their last cry for help.” + +He sprang to his feet as he ended, snatched out a note-book and put +the letter between the leaves. His hands were trembling with haste and +agitation. + +“Come on!” he cried—“up the mountain—all of you. There’s not a moment +to lose. Bumpo, bring the water and nuts with you. Heaven only knows +how long they’ve been pining underground. Let’s hope and pray we’re not +too late!” + +“But where are you going to look?” I asked. “Miranda said the island +was a hundred miles long and the mountains seem to run all the way down +the centre of it.” + +“Didn’t you see the last picture?” he said, grabbing up his hat from +the ground and cramming it on his head. “It was an oddly shaped +mountain—looked like a hawk’s head. Well, there’s where he is—if he’s +still alive. First thing for us to do, is to get up on a high peak and +look around the island for a mountain shaped like a hawks’ head—Just +to think of it! There’s a chance of my meeting Long Arrow, the son of +Golden Arrow, after all!—Come on! Hurry! To delay may mean death to the +greatest naturalist ever born!” + + + + +_THE SEVENTH CHAPTER_ + +HAWK’S-HEAD MOUNTAIN + + +WE all agreed afterwards that none of us had ever worked so hard in our +lives before as we did that day. For my part, I know I was often on the +point of dropping exhausted with fatigue; but I just kept on going—like +a machine—determined that, whatever happened, _I_ would not be the +first to give up. + +When we had scrambled to the top of a high peak, almost instantly we +saw the strange mountain pictured in the letter. In shape it was the +perfect image of a hawk’s head, and was, as far as we could see, the +second highest summit in the island. + +Although we were all out of breath from our climb, the Doctor didn’t +let us rest a second as soon as he had sighted it. With one look at the +sun for direction, down he dashed again, breaking through thickets, +splashing over brooks, taking all the short cuts. For a fat man, he was +certainly the swiftest cross-country runner I ever saw. + +We floundered after him as fast as we could. When I say _we_, I mean +Bumpo and myself; for the animals, Jip, Chee-Chee and Polynesia, were +a long way ahead—even beyond the Doctor—enjoying the hunt like a +paper-chase. + +At length we arrived at the foot of the mountain we were making for; +and we found its sides very steep. Said the Doctor, + +“Now we will separate and search for caves. This spot where we now are, +will be our meeting-place. If anyone finds anything like a cave or a +hole where the earth and rocks have fallen in, he must shout and hulloa +to the rest of us. If we find nothing we will all gather here in about +an hour’s time—Everybody understand?” + +Then we all went off our different ways. + +Each of us, you may be sure, was anxious to be the one to make a +discovery. And never was a mountain searched so thoroughly. But alas! +nothing could we find that looked in the least like a fallen-in cave. +There were plenty of places where rocks had tumbled down to the foot +of the slopes; but none of these appeared as though caves or passages +could possibly lie behind them. + +One by one, tired and disappointed, we straggled back to the +meeting-place. The Doctor seemed gloomy and impatient but by no means +inclined to give up. + +“Jip,” he said, “couldn’t you _smell_ anything like an Indian anywhere?” + +“No,” said Jip. “I sniffed at every crack on the mountainside. But I am +afraid my nose will be of no use to you here, Doctor. The trouble is, +the whole air is so saturated with the smell of spider-monkeys that it +drowns every other scent—And besides, it’s too cold and dry for good +smelling.” + +“It is certainly that,” said the Doctor—“and getting colder all the +time. I’m afraid the island is still drifting to the southward. Let’s +hope it stops before long, or we won’t be able to get even nuts and +fruit to eat—everything in the island will perish—Chee-Chee, what luck +did you have?” + +“None, Doctor. I climbed to every peak and pinnacle I could see. I +searched every hollow and cleft. But not one place could I find where +men might be hidden.” + +“And Polynesia,” asked the Doctor, “did you see nothing that might put +us on the right track?” + +“Not a thing, Doctor—But I have a plan.” + +“Oh good!” cried John Dolittle, full of hope renewed. “What is it? +Let’s hear it.” + +“You still have that beetle with you,” she asked—“the Biz-biz, or +whatever it is you call the wretched insect?” + +“Yes,” said the Doctor, producing the glass-topped box from his pocket, +“here it is.” + +“All right. Now listen,” said she. “If what you have supposed is +true—that is, that Long Arrow had been trapped inside the mountain by +falling rock, he probably found that beetle inside the cave—perhaps +many other different beetles too, eh? He wouldn’t have been likely to +take the Biz-biz in with him, would he?—He was hunting plants, you say, +not beetles. Isn’t that right?” + +“Yes,” said the Doctor, “that’s probably so.” + +“Very well. It is fair to suppose then that the beetle’s home, or his +hole, is in that place—the part of the mountain where Long Arrow and +his party are imprisoned, isn’t it?” + +“Quite, quite.” + +“All right. Then the thing to do is to let the beetle go—and watch him; +and sooner or later he’ll return to his home in Long Arrow’s cave. And +there we will follow him—Or at all events,” she added smoothing down +her wing-feathers with a very superior air, “we will follow him till +the miserable bug starts nosing under the earth. But at least he will +show us what part of the mountain Long Arrow is hidden in.” + +“But he may fly, if I let him out,” said the Doctor. “Then we shall +just lose him and be no better off than we were before.” + +“_Let_ him fly,” snorted Polynesia scornfully. “A parrot can wing it as +fast as a Biz-biz, I fancy. If he takes to the air, I’ll guarantee not +to let the little devil out of my sight. And if he just crawls along +the ground you can follow him yourself.” + +“Splendid!” cried the Doctor. “Polynesia, you have a great brain. I’ll +set him to work at once and see what happens.” + +Again we all clustered round the Doctor as he carefully lifted off the +glass lid and let the big beetle climb out upon his finger. + +“Ladybug, Ladybug, fly away home!” crooned Bumpo. “Your house is on +fire and your chil—” + +“Oh, be quiet!” snapped Polynesia crossly. “Stop insulting him! Don’t +you suppose he has wits enough to go home without your telling him?” + +“I thought perchance he might be of a philandering disposition,” said +Bumpo humbly. “It could be that he is tired of his home and needs to be +encouraged. Shall I sing him ‘Home Sweet Home,’ think you?” + +“No. Then he’d never go back. Your voice needs a rest. Don’t sing to +him: just watch him—Oh, and Doctor, why not tie another message to the +creature’s leg, telling Long Arrow that we’re doing our best to reach +him and that he mustn’t give up hope?” + +“I will,” said the Doctor. And in a minute he had pulled a dry leaf +from a bush near by and was covering it with little pictures in pencil. + +At last, neatly fixed up with his new mail-bag, Mr. Jabizri crawled off +the Doctor’s finger to the ground and looked about him. He stretched +his legs, polished his nose with his front feet and then moved off +leisurely to the westward. + +We had expected him to walk _up_ the mountain; instead, he walked +_around_ it. Do you know how long it takes a beetle to walk round a +mountain? Well, I assure you it takes an unbelievably long time. As +the hours dragged by, we hoped and hoped that he would get up and fly +the rest, and let Polynesia carry on the work of following him. But he +never opened his wings once. I had not realized before how hard it is +for a human being to walk slowly enough to keep up with a beetle. It +was the most tedious thing I have ever gone through. And as we dawdled +along behind, watching him like hawks lest we lose him under a leaf or +something, we all got so cross and ill-tempered we were ready to bite +one another’s heads off. And when he stopped to look at the scenery or +polish his nose some more, I could hear Polynesia behind me letting out +the most dreadful seafaring swear-words you ever heard. + +After he had led us the whole way round the mountain he brought us to +the exact spot where we started from and there he came to a dead stop. + +“Well,” said Bumpo to Polynesia, “what do you think of the beetle’s +sense now? You see he _doesn’t_ know enough to go home.” + +“Oh, be still, you Hottentot!” snapped Polynesia. “Wouldn’t _you_ want +to stretch your legs for exercise if you’d been shut up in a box all +day. Probably his home is near here, and that’s why he’s come back.” + +“But why,” I asked, “did he go the whole way round the mountain first?” + +Then the three of us got into a violent argument. But in the middle of +it all the Doctor suddenly called out, + +“Look, look!” + +We turned and found that he was pointing to the Jabizri, who was now +walking _up_ the mountain at a much faster and more business-like gait. + +“Well,” said Bumpo sitting down wearily; “if he is going to walk _over_ +the mountain and back, for more exercise, I’ll wait for him here. +Chee-Chee and Polynesia can follow him.” + +Indeed it would have taken a monkey or a bird to climb the place which +the beetle was now walking up. It was a smooth, flat part of the +mountain’s side, steep as a wall. + +But presently, when the Jabizri was no more than ten feet above our +heads, we all cried out together. For, even while we watched him, he +had disappeared into the face of the rock like a raindrop soaking into +sand. + +“He’s gone,” cried Polynesia. “There must be a hole up there.” And in a +twinkling she had fluttered up the rock and was clinging to the face of +it with her claws. + +“Yes,” she shouted down, “we’ve run him to earth at last. His hole is +right here, behind a patch of lichen—big enough to get two fingers in.” + +“Ah,” cried the Doctor, “this great slab of rock then must have slid +down from the summit and shut off the mouth of the cave like a door. +Poor fellows! What a dreadful time they must have spent in there!—Oh, +if we only had some picks and shovels now!” + +“Picks and shovels wouldn’t do much good,” said Polynesia. “Look at the +size of the slab: a hundred feet high and as many broad. You would need +an army for a week to make any impression on it.” + +“I wonder how thick it is,” said the Doctor; and he picked up a big +stone and banged it with all his might against the face of the rock. +It made a hollow booming sound, like a giant drum. We all stood still +listening while the echo of it died slowly away. + +And then a cold shiver ran down my spine. For, from within the +mountain, back came three answering knocks: _Boom!... Boom!... Boom!_ + +Wide-eyed we looked at one another as though the earth itself had +spoken. And the solemn little silence that followed was broken by the +Doctor. + +“Thank Heaven,” he said in a hushed reverent voice, “some of them at +least are alive!” + + + + +PART FIVE + + + + +_THE FIRST CHAPTER_ + +A GREAT MOMENT + + +THE next part of our problem was the hardest of all: how to roll aside, +pull down or break open, that gigantic slab. As we gazed up at it +towering above our heads, it looked indeed a hopeless task for our tiny +strength. + +But the sounds of life from inside the mountain had put new heart in +us. And in a moment we were all scrambling around trying to find any +opening or crevice which would give us something to work on. Chee-Chee +scaled up the sheer wall of the slab and examined the top of it where +it leaned against the mountain’s side; I uprooted bushes and stripped +off hanging creepers that might conceal a weak place; the Doctor got +more leaves and composed new picture-letters for the Jabizri to take +in if he should turn up again; whilst Polynesia carried up a handful +of nuts and pushed them into the beetle’s hole, one by one, for the +prisoners inside to eat. + +“Nuts are so nourishing,” she said. + +But Jip it was who, scratching at the foot of the slab like a good +ratter, made the discovery which led to our final success. + +“Doctor,” he cried, running up to John Dolittle with his nose all +covered with black mud, “this slab is resting on nothing but a bed of +soft earth. You never saw such easy digging. I guess the cave behind +must be just too high up for the Indians to reach the earth with their +hands, or they could have scraped a way out long ago. If we can only +scratch the earth-bed away from under, the slab might drop a little. +Then maybe the Indians can climb out over the top.” + +The Doctor hurried to examine the place where Jip had dug. + +“Why, yes,” he said, “if we can get the earth away from under this +front edge, the slab is standing up so straight, we might even make it +fall right down in this direction. It’s well worth trying. Let’s get at +it, quick.” + +We had no tools but the sticks and slivers of stone which we could +find around. A strange sight we must have looked, the whole crew of us +squatting down on our heels, scratching and burrowing at the foot of +the mountain, like six badgers in a row. + +After about an hour, during which in spite of the cold the sweat fell +from our foreheads in all directions, the Doctor said, + +“Be ready to jump from under, clear out of the way, if she shows signs +of moving. If this slab falls on anybody, it will squash him flatter +than a pancake.” + +Presently there was a grating, grinding sound. + +“Look out!” yelled John Dolittle, “here she comes!—Scatter!” + +We ran for our lives, outwards, toward the sides. The big rock slid +gently down, about a foot, into the trough which we had made beneath +it. For a moment I was disappointed, for like that, it was as hopeless +as before—no signs of a cave-mouth showing above it. But as I looked +upward, I saw the top coming very slowly away from the mountainside. +We had unbalanced it below. As it moved apart from the face of the +mountain, sounds of human voices, crying gladly in a strange tongue, +issued from behind. Faster and faster the top swung forward, downward. +Then, with a roaring crash which shook the whole mountain-range beneath +our feet, it struck the earth and cracked in halves. + +How can I describe to any one that first meeting between the two +greatest naturalists the world ever knew, Long Arrow, the son of Golden +Arrow and John Dolittle, M.D., of Puddleby-on-the-Marsh? The scene +rises before me now, plain and clear in every detail, though it took +place so many, many years ago. But when I come to write of it, words +seem such poor things with which to tell you of that great occasion. + +I know that the Doctor, whose life was surely full enough of big +happenings, always counted the setting free of the Indian scientist +as the greatest thing he ever did. For my part, knowing how much this +meeting must mean to him, I was on pins and needles of expectation and +curiosity as the great stone finally thundered down at our feet and we +gazed across it to see what lay behind. + +The gloomy black mouth of a tunnel, full twenty feet high, was +revealed. In the centre of this opening stood an enormous red Indian, +seven feet tall, handsome, muscular, slim and naked—but for a beaded +cloth about his middle and an eagle’s feather in his hair. He held one +hand across his face to shield his eyes from the blinding sun which he +had not seen in many days. + +“It is he!” I heard the Doctor whisper at my elbow. “I know him by his +great height and the scar upon his chin.” + +And he stepped forward slowly across the fallen stone with his hand +outstretched to the red man. + +Presently the Indian uncovered his eyes. And I saw that they had a +curious piercing gleam in them—like the eyes of an eagle, but kinder +and more gentle. He slowly raised his right arm, the rest of him still +and motionless like a statue, and took the Doctor’s hand in his. It was +a great moment. Polynesia nodded to me in a knowing, satisfied kind of +way. And I heard old Bumpo sniffle sentimentally. + +Then the Doctor tried to speak to Long Arrow. But the Indian knew +no English of course, and the Doctor knew no Indian. Presently, to my +surprise, I heard the Doctor trying him in different animal languages. + +[Illustration: “It was a great moment”] + +“How do you do?” he said in dog-talk; “I am glad to see you,” in +horse-signs; “How long have you been buried?” in deer-language. +Still the Indian made no move but stood there, straight and stiff, +understanding not a word. + +The Doctor tried again, in several other animal dialects. But with no +result. + +Till at last he came to the language of eagles. + +“Great Red-Skin,” he said in the fierce screams and short grunts that +the big birds use, “never have I been so glad in all my life as I am +to-day to find you still alive.” + +In a flash Long Arrow’s stony face lit up with a smile of +understanding; and back came the answer in eagle-tongue, + +“Mighty White Man, I owe my life to you. For the remainder of my days I +am your servant to command.” + +Afterwards Long Arrow told us that this was the only bird or animal +language that he had ever been able to learn. But that he had not +spoken it in a long time, for no eagles ever came to this island. + +Then the Doctor signaled to Bumpo who came forward with the nuts and +water. But Long Arrow neither ate nor drank. Taking the supplies with +a nod of thanks, he turned and carried them into the inner dimness of +the cave. We followed him. + +Inside we found nine other Indians, men, women and boys, lying on the +rock floor in a dreadful state of thinness and exhaustion. + +Some had their eyes closed, as if dead. Quickly the Doctor went round +them all and listened to their hearts. They were all alive; but one +woman was too weak even to stand upon her feet. + +At a word from the Doctor, Chee-Chee and Polynesia sped off into the +jungles after more fruit and water. + +While Long Arrow was handing round what food we had to his starving +friends, we suddenly heard a sound outside the cave. Turning about we +saw, clustered at the entrance, the band of Indians who had met us so +inhospitably at the beach. + +They peered into the dark cave cautiously at first. But as soon as +they saw Long Arrow and the other Indians with us, they came rushing +in, laughing, clapping their hands with joy and jabbering away at a +tremendous rate. + +Long Arrow explained to the Doctor that the nine Indians we had found +in the cave with him were two families who had accompanied him into +the mountains to help him gather medicine-plants. And while they had +been searching for a kind of moss—good for indigestion—which grows only +inside of damp caves, the great rock slab had slid down and shut them +in. Then for two weeks they had lived on the medicine-moss and such +fresh water as could be found dripping from the damp walls of the cave. +The other Indians on the island had given them up for lost and mourned +them as dead; and they were now very surprised and happy to find their +relatives alive. + +When Long Arrow turned to the newcomers and told them in their own +language that it was the white man who had found and freed their +relatives, they gathered round John Dolittle, all talking at once and +beating their breasts. + +Long Arrow said they were apologizing and trying to tell the Doctor how +sorry they were that they had seemed unfriendly to him at the beach. +They had never seen a white man before and had really been afraid of +him—especially when they saw him conversing with the porpoises. They +had thought he was the Devil, they said. + +Then they went outside and looked at the great stone we had thrown +down, big as a meadow; and they walked round and round it, pointing to +the break running through the middle and wondering how the trick of +felling it was done. + +Travelers who have since visited Spidermonkey Island tell me that +that huge stone slab is now one of the regular sights of the island. +And that the Indian guides, when showing it to visitors, always tell +_their_ story of how it came there. They say that when the Doctor +found that the rocks had entrapped his friend, Long Arrow, he was so +angry that he ripped the mountain in halves with his bare hands and let +him out. + + + + +_THE SECOND CHAPTER_ + +“THE MEN OF THE MOVING LAND” + + +FROM that time on the Indians’ treatment of us was very different. We +were invited to their village for a feast to celebrate the recovery +of the lost families. And after we had made a litter from saplings to +carry the sick woman in, we all started off down the mountain. + +On the way the Indians told Long Arrow something which appeared to +be sad news, for on hearing it, his face grew very grave. The Doctor +asked him what was wrong. And Long Arrow said he had just been informed +that the chief of the tribe, an old man of eighty, had died early that +morning. + +“That,” Polynesia whispered in my ear, “must have been what they went +back to the village for, when the messenger fetched them from the +beach.—Remember?” + +“What did he die of?” asked the Doctor. + +“He died of cold,” said Long Arrow. + +Indeed, now that the sun was setting, we were all shivering ourselves. + +“This is a serious thing,” said the Doctor to me. “The island is still +in the grip of that wretched current flowing southward. We will have to +look into this to-morrow. If nothing can be done about it, the Indians +had better take to canoes and leave the island. The chance of being +wrecked will be better than getting frozen to death in the ice-floes of +the Antarctic.” + +Presently we came over a saddle in the hills, and looking downward on +the far side of the island, we saw the village—a large cluster of grass +huts and gaily colored totem-poles close by the edge of the sea. + +“How artistic!” said the Doctor—“Delightfully situated. What is the +name of the village?” + +“Popsipetel,” said Long Arrow. “That is the name also of the tribe. The +word signifies in Indian tongue, _The Men of The Moving Land_. There +are two tribes of Indians on the island: the Popsipetels at this end +and the Bag-jagderags at the other.” + +“Which is the larger of the two peoples?” + +“The Bag-jagderags, by far. Their city covers two square leagues. But,” +added Long Arrow a slight frown darkening his handsome face, “for me, I +would rather have one Popsipetel than a hundred Bag-jagderags.” + +The news of the rescue we had made had evidently gone ahead of us. For +as we drew nearer to the village we saw crowds of Indians streaming out +to greet the friends and relatives whom they had never thought to see +again. + +These good people, when they too were told how the rescue had been the +work of the strange white visitor to their shores, all gathered round +the Doctor, shook him by the hands, patted him and hugged him. Then +they lifted him up upon their strong shoulders and carried him down the +hill into the village. + +There the welcome we received was even more wonderful. In spite of +the cold air of the coming night, the villagers, who had all been +shivering within their houses, threw open their doors and came out in +hundreds. I had no idea that the little village could hold so many. +They thronged about us, smiling and nodding and waving their hands; +and as the details of what we had done were recited by Long Arrow they +kept shouting strange singing noises, which we supposed were words of +gratitude or praise. + +We were next escorted to a brand-new grass house, clean and +sweet-smelling within, and informed that it was ours. Six strong Indian +boys were told off to be our servants. + +On our way through the village we noticed a house, larger than the +rest, standing at the end of the main street. Long Arrow pointed to it +and told us it was the Chief’s house, but that it was now empty—no new +chief having yet been elected to take the place of the old one who had +died. + +Inside our new home a feast of fish and fruit had been prepared. Most +of the more important men of the tribe were already seating themselves +at the long dining-table when we got there. Long Arrow invited us to +sit down and eat. + +This we were glad enough to do, as we were all hungry. But we were both +surprised and disappointed when we found that the fish had not been +cooked. The Indians did not seem to think this extraordinary in the +least, but went ahead gobbling the fish with much relish the way it +was, raw. + +With many apologies, the Doctor explained to Long Arrow that if they +had no objection we would prefer our fish cooked. + +Imagine our astonishment when we found that the great Long Arrow, so +learned in the natural sciences, did not know what the word _cooked_ +meant! + +Polynesia who was sitting on the bench between John Dolittle and myself +pulled the Doctor by the sleeve. + +“I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Doctor,” she whispered as he leant down to +listen to her: “_these people have no fires_! They don’t know how to +make a fire. Look outside: It’s almost dark, and there isn’t a light +showing in the whole village. This is a fireless people.” + + + + +_THE THIRD CHAPTER_ + +FIRE + + +THEN the Doctor asked Long Arrow if he knew what fire was, explaining +it to him by pictures drawn on the buckskin table-cloth. Long Arrow +said he had seen such a thing—coming out of the tops of volcanoes; but +that neither he nor any of the Popsipetels knew how it was made. + +“Poor perishing heathens!” muttered Bumpo. “No wonder the old chief +died of cold!” + +At that moment we heard a crying sound at the door. And turning round, +we saw a weeping Indian mother with a baby in her arms. She said +something to the Indians which we could not understand; and Long Arrow +told us the baby was sick and she wanted the white doctor to try and +cure it. + +“Oh Lord!” groaned Polynesia in my ear—“Just like Puddleby: patients +arriving in the middle of dinner. Well, one thing: the food’s raw, so +nothing can get cold anyway.” + +The Doctor examined the baby and found at once that it was thoroughly +chilled. + +“Fire—_fire_! That’s what it needs,” he said turning to Long +Arrow—“That’s what you all need. This child will have pneumonia if it +isn’t kept warm.” + +“Aye, truly. But how to make a fire,” said Long Arrow—“where to get it: +that is the difficulty. All the volcanoes in this land are dead.” + +Then we fell to hunting through our pockets to see if any matches had +survived the shipwreck. The best we could muster were two whole ones +and a half—all with the heads soaked off them by salt water. + +“Hark, Long Arrow,” said the Doctor: “divers ways there be of making +fire without the aid of matches. One: with a strong glass and the +rays of the sun. That however, since the sun has set, we cannot now +employ. Another is by grinding a hard stick into a soft log—Is the +daylight gone without?—Alas yes. Then I fear we must await the morrow; +for besides the different woods, we need an old squirrel’s nest for +fuel—And that without lamps you could not find in your forests at this +hour.” + +“Great are your cunning and your skill, oh White Man,” Long Arrow +replied. “But in this you do us an injustice. Know you not that all +fireless peoples can see in the dark? Having no lamps we are forced to +train ourselves to travel through the blackest night, lightless. I will +despatch a messenger and you shall have your squirrel’s nest within the +hour.” + +He gave an order to two of our boy-servants who promptly disappeared +running. And sure enough, in a very short space of time a squirrel’s +nest, together with hard and soft woods, was brought to our door. + +The moon had not yet risen and within the house it was practically +pitch-black. I could feel and hear, however, that the Indians were +moving about comfortably as though it were daylight. The task of making +fire the Doctor had to perform almost entirely by the sense of touch, +asking Long Arrow and the Indians to hand him his tools when he mislaid +them in the dark. And then I made a curious discovery: now that I had +to, I found that I was beginning to see a little in the dark myself. +And for the first time I realized that of course there _is_ no such +thing as pitch-dark, so long as you have a door open or a sky above you. + +Calling for the loan of a bow, the Doctor loosened the string, put the +hard stick into a loop and began grinding this stick into the soft wood +of the log. Soon I smelt that the log was smoking. Then he kept feeding +the part that was smoking with the inside lining of the squirrel’s +nest, and he asked me to blow upon it with my breath. He made the stick +drill faster and faster. More smoke filled the room. And at last the +darkness about us was suddenly lit up. The squirrel’s nest had burst +into flame. + +The Indians murmured and grunted with astonishment. At first they were +all for falling on their knees and worshiping the fire. Then they +wanted to pick it up with their bare hands and play with it. We had to +teach them how it was to be used; and they were quite fascinated when +we laid our fish across it on sticks and cooked it. They sniffed the +air with relish as, for the first time in history, the smell of fried +fish passed through the village of Popsipetel. + +Then we got them to bring us piles and stacks of dry wood; and we made +an enormous bonfire in the middle of the main street. Round this, when +they felt its warmth, the whole tribe gathered and smiled and wondered. +It was a striking sight, one of the pictures from our voyages that I +most frequently remember: that roaring jolly blaze beneath the black +night sky, and all about it a vast ring of Indians, the firelight +gleaming on bronze cheeks, white teeth and flashing eyes—a whole town +trying to get warm, giggling and pushing like school-children. + +In a little, when we had got them more used to the handling of fire, +the Doctor showed them how it could be taken into their houses if a +hole were only made in the roof to let the smoke out. And before we +turned in after that long, long, tiring day, we had fires going in +every hut in the village. + +The poor people were so glad to get really warm again that we thought +they’d never go to bed. Well on into the early hours of the morning +the little town fairly buzzed with a great low murmur: the Popsipetels +sitting up talking of their wonderful pale-faced visitor and this +strange good thing he had brought with him—_fire_! + + + + +_THE FOURTH CHAPTER_ + +WHAT MAKES AN ISLAND FLOAT + + +VERY early in our experience of Popsipetel kindness we saw that if we +were to get anything done at all, we would almost always have to do it +secretly. The Doctor was so popular and loved by all that as soon as he +showed his face at his door in the morning crowds of admirers, waiting +patiently outside, flocked about him and followed him wherever he went. +After his fire-making feat, this childlike people expected him, I +think, to be continually doing magic; and they were determined not to +miss a trick. + +It was only with great difficulty that we escaped from the crowd the +first morning and set out with Long Arrow to explore the island at our +leisure. + +In the interior we found that not only the plants and trees were +suffering from the cold: the animal life was in even worse straits. +Everywhere shivering birds were to be seen, their feathers all fluffed +out, gathering together for flight to summer lands. And many lay dead +upon the ground. Going down to the shore, we watched land-crabs in +large numbers taking to the sea to find some better home. While away to +the Southeast we could see many icebergs floating—a sign that we were +now not far from the terrible region of the Antarctic. + +As we were looking out to sea, we noticed our friends the porpoises +jumping through the waves. The Doctor hailed them and they came inshore. + +He asked them how far we were from the South Polar Continent. + +About a hundred miles, they told him. And then they asked why he wanted +to know. + +“Because this floating island we are on,” said he, “is drifting +southward all the time in a current. It’s an island that ordinarily +belongs somewhere in the tropic zone—real sultry weather, sunstrokes +and all that. If it doesn’t stop going southward pretty soon everything +on it is going to perish.” + +“Well,” said the porpoises, “then the thing to do is to get it back +into a warmer climate, isn’t it?” + +“Yes, but how?” said the Doctor. “We can’t _row_ it back.” + +“No,” said they, “but whales could push it—if you only got enough of +them.” + +“What a splendid idea!—Whales, the very thing!” said the Doctor. “Do +you think you could get me some?” + +“Why, certainly,” said the porpoises, “we passed one herd of them out +there, sporting about among the icebergs. We’ll ask them to come over. +And if they aren’t enough, we’ll try and hunt up some more. Better have +plenty.” + +“Thank you,” said the Doctor. “You are very kind—By the way, do you +happen to know how this island came to be a floating island? At least +half of it, I notice, is made of stone. It is very odd that it floats +at all, isn’t it?” + +“It is unusual,” they said. “But the explanation is quite simple. It +used to be a mountainous part of South America—an overhanging part—sort +of an awkward corner, you might say. Way back in the glacial days, +thousands of years ago, it broke off from the mainland; and by some +curious accident the inside of it, which is hollow, got filled with +air as it fell into the ocean. You can only see less than half of +the island: the bigger half is under water. And in the middle of it, +underneath, is a huge rock air-chamber, running right up inside the +mountains. And that’s what keeps it floating.” + +“What a pecurious phenometer!” said Bumpo. + +“It is indeed,” said the Doctor. “I must make a note of that.” And out +came the everlasting note-book. + +The porpoises went bounding off towards the icebergs. And not long +after, we saw the sea heaving and frothing as a big herd of whales came +towards us at full speed. + +They certainly were enormous creatures; and there must have been a good +two hundred of them. + +“Here they are,” said the porpoises, poking their heads out of the +water. + +“Good!” said the Doctor. “Now just explain to them, will you please? +that this is a very serious matter for all the living creatures in this +land. And ask them if they will be so good as to go down to the far end +of the island, put their noses against it and push it back near the +coast of Southern Brazil.” + +The porpoises evidently succeeded in persuading the whales to do as the +Doctor asked; for presently we saw them thrashing through the seas, +going off towards the south end of the island. + +Then we lay down upon the beach and waited. + +After about an hour the Doctor got up and threw a stick into the water. +For a while this floated motionless. But soon we saw it begin to move +gently down the coast. + +“Ah!” said the Doctor, “see that?—The island is going North at last. +Thank goodness!” + +Faster and faster we left the stick behind; and smaller and dimmer grew +the icebergs on the skyline. + +The Doctor took out his watch, threw more sticks into the water and +made a rapid calculation. + +“Humph!—Fourteen and a half knots an hour,” he murmured—“A very nice +speed. It should take us about five days to get back near Brazil. Well, +that’s that—Quite a load off my mind. I declare I feel warmer already. +Let’s go and get something to eat.” + + + + +_THE FIFTH CHAPTER_ + +WAR! + + +ON our way back to the village the Doctor began discussing natural +history with Long Arrow. But their most interesting talk, mainly about +plants, had hardly begun when an Indian runner came dashing up to us +with a message. + +Long Arrow listened gravely to the breathless, babbled words, then +turned to the Doctor and said in eagle tongue, + +“Great White Man, an evil thing has befallen the Popsipetels. Our +neighbors to the southward, the thievish Bag-jagderags, who for so long +have cast envious eyes on our stores of ripe corn, have gone upon the +war-path; and even now are advancing to attack us.” + +“Evil news indeed,” said the Doctor. “Yet let us not judge harshly. +Perhaps it is that they are desperate for food, having their own crops +frost-killed before harvest. For are they not even nearer the cold +South than you?” + +“Make no excuses for any man of the tribe of the Bag-jagderags,” said +Long Arrow shaking his head. “They are an idle shiftless race. They do +but see a chance to get corn without the labor of husbandry. If it +were not that they are a much bigger tribe and hope to defeat their +neighbor by sheer force of numbers, they would not have dared to make +open war upon the brave Popsipetels.” + +When we reached the village we found it in a great state of excitement. +Everywhere men were seen putting their bows in order, sharpening +spears, grinding battle-axes and making arrows by the hundred. Women +were raising a high fence of bamboo poles all round the village. Scouts +and messengers kept coming and going, bringing news of the movements of +the enemy. While high up in the trees and hills about the village we +could see look-outs watching the mountains to the southward. + +Long Arrow brought another Indian, short but enormously broad, and +introduced him to the Doctor as Big Teeth, the chief warrior of the +Popsipetels. + +The Doctor volunteered to go and see the enemy and try to argue the +matter out peacefully with them instead of fighting; for war, he said, +was at best a stupid wasteful business. But the two shook their heads. +Such a plan was hopeless, they said. In the last war when they had sent +a messenger to do peaceful arguing, the enemy had merely hit him with +an ax. + +While the Doctor was asking Big Teeth how he meant to defend the +village against attack, a cry of alarm was raised by the look-outs. + +“They’re coming!—The Bag-jagderags—swarming down the mountains in +thousands!” + +“Well,” said the Doctor, “it’s all in the day’s work, I suppose. I +don’t believe in war; but if the village is attacked we must help +defend it.” + +And he picked up a club from the ground and tried the heft of it +against a stone. + +“This,” he said, “seems like a pretty good tool to me.” And he walked +to the bamboo fence and took his place among the other waiting fighters. + +Then we all got hold of some kind of weapon with which to help our +friends, the gallant Popsipetels: I borrowed a bow and a quiver full of +arrows; Jip was content to rely upon his old, but still strong teeth; +Chee-Chee took a bag of rocks and climbed a palm where he could throw +them down upon the enemies’ heads; and Bumpo marched after the Doctor +to the fence armed with a young tree in one hand and a door-post in the +other. + +When the enemy drew near enough to be seen from where we stood we all +gasped with astonishment. The hillsides were actually covered with +them—thousands upon thousands. They made our small army within the +village look like a mere handful. + +“Saints alive!” muttered Polynesia, “our little lot will stand no +chance against that swarm. This will never do. I’m going off to get +some help.” + +Where she was going and what kind of help she meant to get, I had no +idea. She just disappeared from my side. But Jip, who had heard her, +poked his nose between the bamboo bars of the fence to get a better +view of the enemy and said, + +“Likely enough she’s gone after the Black Parrots. Let’s hope she +finds them in time. Just look at those ugly ruffians climbing down the +rocks—millions of ’em! This fight’s going to keep us all hopping.” + +And Jip was right. Before a quarter of an hour had gone by our +village was completely surrounded by one huge mob of yelling, raging +Bag-jagderags. + +I now come again to a part in the story of our voyages where things +happened so quickly, one upon the other, that looking backwards I see +the picture only in a confused kind of way. I know that if it had not +been for the Terrible Three—as they came afterwards to be fondly called +in Popsipetel history—Long Arrow, Bumpo and the Doctor, the war would +have been soon over and the whole island would have belonged to the +worthless Bag-jagderags. But the Englishman, the African and the Indian +were a regiment in themselves; and between them they made that village +a dangerous place for any man to try to enter. + +The bamboo fencing which had been hastily set up around the town was +not a very strong affair; and right from the start it gave way in +one place after another as the enemy thronged and crowded against it. +Then the Doctor, Long Arrow and Bumpo would hurry to the weak spot, a +terrific hand-to-hand fight would take place and the enemy be thrown +out. But almost instantly a cry of alarm would come from some other +part of the village-wall; and the Three would have to rush off and do +the same thing all over again. + +[Illustration: The Terrible Three + +_From an Indian rock-engraving found on Hawks’-Head Mountain, +Spidermonkey Island_] + +The Popsipetels were themselves no mean fighters; but the strength and +weight of those three men of different lands and colors, standing close +together, swinging their enormous war-clubs, was really a sight for the +wonder and admiration of any one. + +Many weeks later when I was passing an Indian camp-fire at night I +heard this song being sung. It has since become one of the traditional +folksongs of the Popsipetels. + + THE SONG OF THE TERRIBLE THREE + + Oh hear ye the Song of the Terrible Three + And the fight that they fought by the edge of the sea. + Down from the mountains, the rocks and the crags, + Swarming like wasps, came the Bag-jagderags. + + Surrounding our village, our walls they broke down. + Oh, sad was the plight of our men and our town! + But Heaven determined our land to set free + And sent us the help of the Terrible Three. + + One was a Black—he was dark as the night; + One was a Red-skin, a mountain of height; + But the chief was a White Man, round like a bee; + And all in a row stood the Terrible Three. + + Shoulder to shoulder, they hammered and hit. + Like demons of fury they kicked and they bit. + Like a wall of destruction they stood in a row, + Flattening enemies, six at a blow. + + Oh, strong was the Red-skin fierce was the Black. + Bag-jagderags trembled and tried to turn back. + But ’twas of the White Man they shouted, “Beware! + He throws men in handfuls, straight up in the air!” + + Long shall they frighten bad children at night + With tales of the Red and the Black and the White. + And long shall we sing of the Terrible Three + And the fight that they fought by the edge of the sea. + + + + +_THE SIXTH CHAPTER_ + +GENERAL POLYNESIA + + +BUT alas! even the Three, mighty though they were, could not last +forever against an army which seemed to have no end. In one of the +hottest scrimmages, when the enemy had broken a particularly wide hole +through the fence, I saw Long Arrow’s great figure topple and come down +with a spear sticking in his broad chest. + +For another half-hour Bumpo and the Doctor fought on side by side. How +their strength held out so long I cannot tell, for never a second were +they given to get their breath or rest their arms. + +The Doctor—the quiet, kindly, peaceable, little Doctor!—well, you +wouldn’t have known him if you had seen him that day dealing out whacks +you could hear a mile off, walloping and swatting in all directions. + +As for Bumpo, with staring eye-balls and grim set teeth, he was +a veritable demon. None dared come within yards of that wicked, +wide-circling door-post. But a stone, skilfully thrown, struck him at +last in the centre of the forehead. And down went the second of the +Three. John Dolittle, the last of the Terribles, was left fighting +alone. + +Jip and I rushed to his side and tried to take the places of the fallen +ones. But, far too light and too small, we made but a poor exchange. +Another length of the fence crashed down, and through the widened gap +the Bag-jagderags poured in on us like a flood. + +“To the canoes!—To the sea!” shouted the Popsipetels. “Fly for your +lives!—All is over!—The war is lost!” + +But the Doctor and I never got a chance to fly for our lives. We were +swept off our feet and knocked down flat by the sheer weight of the +mob. And once down, we were unable to get up again. I thought we would +surely be trampled to death. + +But at that moment, above the din and racket of the battle, we heard +the most terrifying noise that ever assaulted human ears: the sound of +millions and millions of parrots all screeching with fury together. + +The army, which in the nick of time Polynesia had brought to our +rescue, darkened the whole sky to the westward. I asked her afterwards, +how many birds there were; and she said she didn’t know exactly but +that they certainly numbered somewhere between sixty and seventy +millions. In that extraordinarily short space of time she had brought +them from the mainland of South America. + +If you have ever heard a parrot screech with anger you will know that +it makes a truly frightful sound; and if you have ever been bitten by +one, you will know that its bite can be a nasty and a painful thing. + +The Black Parrots (coal-black all over, they were—except for a scarlet +beak and a streak of red in wing and tail) on the word of command from +Polynesia set to work upon the Bag-jagderags who were now pouring +through the village looking for plunder. + +And the Black Parrots’ method of fighting was peculiar. This is what +they did: on the head of each Bag-jagderag three or four parrots +settled and took a good foot-hold in his hair with their claws; then +they leant down over the sides of his head and began clipping snips out +of his ears, for all the world as though they were punching tickets. +That is all they did. They never bit them anywhere else except the +ears. But it won the war for us. + +With howls pitiful to hear, the Bag-jagderags fell over one another in +their haste to get out of that accursed village. It was no use their +trying to pull the parrots off their heads; because for each head there +were always four more parrots waiting impatiently to get on. + +Some of the enemy were lucky; and with only a snip or two managed to +get outside the fence—where the parrots immediately left them alone. +But with most, before the black birds had done with them, the ears +presented a very singular appearance—like the edge of a postage-stamp. +This treatment, very painful at the time, did not however do them any +permanent harm beyond the change in looks. And it later got to be the +tribal mark of the Bag-jagderags. No really smart young lady of this +tribe would be seen walking with a man who did not have scalloped +ears—for such was a proof that he had been in the Great War. And that +(though it is not generally known to scientists) is how this people +came to be called by the other Indian nations, the _Ragged-Eared +Bag-jagderags_. + +As soon as the village was cleared of the enemy the Doctor turned his +attention to the wounded. + +In spite of the length and fierceness of the struggle, there were +surprisingly few serious injuries. Poor Long Arrow was the worst off. +However, after the Doctor had washed his wound and got him to bed, he +opened his eyes and said he already felt better. Bumpo was only badly +stunned. + +With this part of the business over, the Doctor called to Polynesia +to have the Black Parrots drive the enemy right back into their own +country and to wait there, guarding them all night. + +Polynesia gave the short word of command; and like one bird those +millions of parrots opened their red beaks and let out once more their +terrifying battle-scream. + +The Bag-jagderags didn’t wait to be bitten a second time, but fled +helter-skelter over the mountains from which they had come; whilst +Polynesia and her victorious army followed watchfully behind like a +great, threatening, black cloud. + +The Doctor picked up his high hat which had been knocked off in the +fight, dusted it carefully and put it on. + +“To-morrow,” he said, shaking his fist towards the hills, “we will +arrange the terms of peace—and we will arrange them—in the City of +Bag-jagderag!” + +His words were greeted with cheers of triumph from the admiring +Popsipetels. The war was over. + + + + +_THE SEVENTH CHAPTER_ + +THE PEACE OF THE PARROTS + + +THE next day we set out for the far end of the island, and reaching it +in canoes (for we went by sea) after a journey of twenty-five hours, we +remained no longer than was necessary in the City of Bag-jagderag. + +When he threw himself into that fight at Popsipetel, I saw the Doctor +really angry for the first time in my life. But his anger, once +aroused, was slow to die. All the way down the coast of the island he +never ceased to rail against this cowardly people who had attacked his +friends, the Popsipetels, for no other reason but to rob them of their +corn, because they were too idle to till the land themselves. And he +was still angry when he reached the City of Bag-jagderag. + +Long Arrow had not come with us for he was as yet too weak from his +wound. But the Doctor—always clever at languages—was already getting +familiar with the Indian tongue. Besides, among the half-dozen +Popsipetels who accompanied us to paddle the canoes, was one boy to +whom we had taught a little English. He and the Doctor between them +managed to make themselves understood to the Bag-jagderags. This +people, with the terrible parrots still blackening the hills about +their stone town, waiting for the word to descend and attack, were, we +found, in a very humble mood. + +Leaving our canoes we passed up the main street to the palace of the +chief. Bumpo and I couldn’t help smiling with satisfaction as we saw +how the waiting crowds which lined the roadway bowed their heads to the +ground, as the little, round, angry figure of the Doctor strutted ahead +of us with his chin in the air. + +At the foot of the palace-steps the chief and all the more important +personages of the tribe were waiting to meet him, smiling humbly and +holding out their hands in friendliness. The Doctor took not the +slightest notice. He marched right by them, up the steps to the door +of the palace. There he turned around and at once began to address the +people in a firm voice. + +I never heard such a speech in my life—and I am quite sure that they +never did either. First he called them a long string of names: cowards, +loafers, thieves, vagabonds, good-for-nothings, bullies and what not. +Then he said he was still seriously thinking of allowing the parrots to +drive them on into the sea, in order that this pleasant land might be +rid, once for all, of their worthless carcases. + +At this a great cry for mercy went up, and the chief and all of +them fell on their knees, calling out that they would submit to any +conditions of peace he wished. + +Then the Doctor called for one of their scribes—that is, a man who did +picture-writing. And on the stone walls of the palace of Bag-jagderag +he bade him write down the terms of the peace as he dictated it. +This peace is known as _The Peace of The Parrots_, and—unlike most +peaces—was, and is, strictly kept—even to this day. + +It was quite long in words. The half of the palace-front was covered +with picture-writing, and fifty pots of paint were used, before the +weary scribe had done. But the main part of it all was that there +should be no more fighting; and that the two tribes should give solemn +promise to help one another whenever there was corn-famine or other +distress in the lands belonging to either. + +This greatly surprised the Bag-jagderags. They had expected from the +Doctor’s angry face that he would at least chop a couple of hundred +heads off—and probably make the rest of them slaves for life. + +But when they saw that he only meant kindly by them, their great fear +of him changed to a tremendous admiration. And as he ended his long +speech and walked briskly down the steps again on his way back to the +canoes, the group of chieftains threw themselves at his feet and cried, + +“Do but stay with us, Great Lord, and all the riches of Bag-jagderag +shall be poured into your lap. Gold-mines we know of in the mountains +and pearl-beds beneath the sea. Only stay with us, that your +all-powerful wisdom may lead our Council and our people in prosperity +and peace.” + +The Doctor held up his hand for silence. + +“No man,” said he, “would wish to be the guest of the Bag-jagderags +till they had proved by their deeds that they are an honest race. Be +true to the terms of the Peace and from yourselves shall come good +government and prosperity—Farewell!” + +Then he turned and followed by Bumpo, the Popsipetels and myself, +walked rapidly down to the canoes. + + + + +_THE EIGHTH CHAPTER_ + +THE HANGING STONE + + +BUT the change of heart in the Bag-jagderags was really sincere. The +Doctor had made a great impression on them—a deeper one than even he +himself realized at the time. In fact I sometimes think that that +speech of his from the palace-steps had more effect upon the Indians of +Spidermonkey Island than had any of his great deeds which, great though +they were, were always magnified and exaggerated when the news of them +was passed from mouth to mouth. + +A sick girl was brought to him as he reached the place where the boats +lay. She turned out to have some quite simple ailment which he quickly +gave the remedy for. But this increased his popularity still more. And +when he stepped into his canoe, the people all around us actually burst +into tears. It seems (I learned this afterwards) that they thought he +was going away across the sea, for good, to the mysterious foreign +lands from which he had come. + +Some of the chieftains spoke to the Popsipetels as we pushed off. What +they said I did not understand; but we noticed that several canoes +filled with Bag-jagderags followed us at a respectful distance all the +way back to Popsipetel. + +The Doctor had determined to return by the other shore, so that we +should be thus able to make a complete trip round the island’s shores. + +Shortly after we started, while still off the lower end of the island, +we sighted a steep point on the coast where the sea was in a great +state of turmoil, white with soapy froth. On going nearer, we found +that this was caused by our friendly whales who were still faithfully +working away with their noses against the end of the island, driving us +northward. We had been kept so busy with the war that we had forgotten +all about them. But as we paused and watched their mighty tails lashing +and churning the sea, we suddenly realized that we had not felt cold +in quite a long while. Speeding up our boat lest the island be carried +away from us altogether, we passed on up the coast; and here and there +we noticed that the trees on the shore already looked greener and more +healthy. Spidermonkey Island was getting back into her home climates. + +About halfway to Popsipetel we went ashore and spent two or three days +exploring the central part of the island. Our Indian paddlers took us +up into the mountains, very steep and high in this region, overhanging +the sea. And they showed us what they called the Whispering Rocks. + +This was a very peculiar and striking piece of scenery. It was like a +great vast basin, or circus, in the mountains, and out of the centre of +it there rose a table of rock with an ivory chair upon it. All around +this the mountains went up like stairs, or theatre-seats, to a great +height—except at one narrow end which was open to a view of the sea. +You could imagine it a council-place or concert-hall for giants, and +the rock table in the centre the stage for performers or the stand for +the speaker. + +[Illustration: “Working away with their noses against the end of the +island”] + +We asked our guides why it was called the Whispering Rocks; and they +said, “Go down into it and we will show you.” + +The great bowl was miles deep and miles wide. We scrambled down the +rocks and they showed us how, even when you stood far, far apart from +one another, you merely had to whisper in that great place and every +one in the theatre could hear you. This was, the Doctor said, on +account of the echoes which played backwards and forwards between the +high walls of rock. + +Our guides told us that it was here, in days long gone by when the +Popsipetels owned the whole of Spidermonkey Island, that the kings +were crowned. The ivory chair upon the table was the throne in which +they sat. And so great was the big theatre that all the Indians in the +island were able to get seats in it to see the ceremony. + +They showed us also an enormous hanging stone perched on the edge of +a volcano’s crater—the highest summit in the whole island. Although +it was very far below us, we could see it quite plainly; and it looked +wobbly enough to be pushed off its perch with the hand. There was a +legend among the people, they said, that when the greatest of all +Popsipetel kings should be crowned in the ivory chair, this hanging +stone would tumble into the volcano’s mouth and go straight down to the +centre of the earth. + +[Illustration: “The Whispering Rocks”] + +The Doctor said he would like to go and examine it closer. + +And when we were come to the lip of the volcano (it took us half a +day to get up to it) we found the stone was unbelievably large—big +as a cathedral. Underneath it we could look right down into a black +hole which seemed to have no bottom. The Doctor explained to us that +volcanoes sometimes spurted up fire from these holes in their tops; but +that those on floating islands were always cold and dead. + +“Stubbins,” he said, looking up at the great stone towering above us, +“do you know what would most likely happen if that boulder should fall +in?” + +“No,” said I, “what?” + +“You remember the air-chamber which the porpoises told us lies under +the centre of the island?” + +“Yes.” + +“Well, this stone is heavy enough, if it fell into the volcano, to +break through into that air-chamber from above. And once it did, the +air would escape and the floating island would float no more. It would +sink.” + +“But then everybody on it would be drowned, wouldn’t they?” said Bumpo. + +“Oh no, not necessarily. That would depend on the depth of the sea +where the sinking took place. The island might touch bottom when it +had only gone down, say, a hundred feet. But there would be lots of it +still sticking up above the water then, wouldn’t there?” + +“Yes,” said Bumpo, “I suppose there would. Well, let us hope that the +ponderous fragment does _not_ lose its equilibriosity, for I don’t +believe it would stop at the centre of the earth—more likely it would +fall right through the world and come out the other side.” + +Many other wonders there were which these men showed us in the central +regions of their island. But I have not time or space to tell you of +them now. + +Descending towards the shore again, we noticed that we were still +being watched, even here among the highlands, by the Bag-jagderags +who had followed us. And when we put to sea once more a boatload of +them proceeded to go ahead of us in the direction of Popsipetel. +Having lighter canoes, they traveled faster than our party; and we +judged that they should reach the village—if that was where they were +going—many hours before we could. + +The Doctor was now becoming anxious to see how Long Arrow was getting +on, so we all took turns at the paddles and went on traveling by +moonlight through the whole night. + +We reached Popsipetel just as the dawn was breaking. + +To our great surprise we found that not only we, but the whole village +also, had been up all night. A great crowd was gathered about the dead +chief’s house. And as we landed our canoes upon the beach we saw a +large number of old men, the seniors of the tribe, coming out at the +main door. + +We inquired what was the meaning of all this; and were told that the +election of a new chief had been going on all through the whole night. +Bumpo asked the name of the new chief; but this, it seemed, had not yet +been given out. It would be announced at mid-day. + +As soon as the Doctor had paid a visit to Long Arrow and seen that he +was doing nicely, we proceeded to our own house at the far end of the +village. Here we ate some breakfast and then lay down to take a good +rest. + +Rest, indeed, we needed; for life had been strenuous and busy for us +ever since we had landed on the island. And it wasn’t many minutes +after our weary heads struck the pillows that the whole crew of us were +sound asleep. + + + + +_THE NINTH CHAPTER_ + +THE ELECTION + + +WE were awakened by music. The glaring noonday sunlight was streaming +in at our door, outside of which some kind of a band appeared to be +playing. We got up and looked out. Our house was surrounded by the +whole population of Popsipetel. We were used to having quite a number +of curious and admiring Indians waiting at our door at all hours; +but this was quite different. The vast crowd was dressed in its best +clothes. Bright beads, gawdy feathers and gay blankets gave cheerful +color to the scene. Every one seemed in very good humor, singing or +playing on musical instruments—mostly painted wooden whistles or drums +made from skins. + +We found Polynesia—who while we slept had arrived back from +Bag-jagderag—sitting on our door-post watching the show. We asked her +what all the holiday-making was about. + +“The result of the election has just been announced,” said she. “The +name of the new chief was given out at noon.” + +“And who is the new chief?” asked the Doctor. + +“You are,” said Polynesia quietly. + +“_I!_” gasped the Doctor—“Well, of all things!” + +“Yes,” said she. “You’re the one—And what’s more, they’ve changed +your surname for you. They didn’t think that Dolittle was a proper or +respectful name for a man who had done so much. So you are now to be +known as Jong Thinkalot. How do you like it?” + +“But I don’t _want_ to be a chief,” said the Doctor in an irritable +voice. + +“I’m afraid you’ll have hard work to get out of it now,” said +she—“unless you’re willing to put to sea again in one of their rickety +canoes. You see you’ve been elected not merely the Chief of the +Popsipetels; you’re to be a king—the King of the whole of Spidermonkey +Island. The Bag-jagderags, who were so anxious to have you govern +them, sent spies and messengers ahead of you; and when they found that +you had been elected Chief of the Popsipetels overnight they were +bitterly disappointed. However, rather than lose you altogether, the +Bag-jagderags were willing to give up their independence, and insisted +that they and their lands be united to the Popsipetels in order that +you could be made king of both. So now you’re in for it.” + +“Oh Lord!” groaned the Doctor, “I do wish they wouldn’t be so +enthusiastic! Bother it, I don’t _want_ to be a king!” + +“I should think, Doctor,” said I, “you’d feel rather proud and glad. I +wish _I_ had a chance to be a king.” + +“Oh I know it sounds grand,” said he, pulling on his boots miserably. +“But the trouble is, you can’t take up responsibilities and then just +drop them again when you feel like it. I have my own work to do. +Scarcely one moment have I had to give to natural history since I +landed on this island. I’ve been doing some one else’s business all the +time. And now they want me to go on doing it! Why, once I’m made King +of the Popsipetels, that’s the end of me as a useful naturalist. I’d be +too busy for anything. All I’d be then is just a er—er—just a king.” + +“Well, that’s something!” said Bumpo. “My father is a king and has a +hundred and twenty wives.” + +“That would make it worse,” said the Doctor—“a hundred and twenty times +worse. I have my work to do. I don’t want to be a king.” + +“Look,” said Polynesia, “here come the head men to announce your +election. Hurry up and get your boots laced.” + +The throng before our door had suddenly parted asunder, making a long +lane; and down this we now saw a group of personages coming towards us. +The man in front, a handsome old Indian with a wrinkled face, carried +in his hands a wooden crown—a truly beautiful and gorgeous crown, even +though of wood. Wonderfully carved and painted, it had two lovely blue +feathers springing from the front of it. Behind the old man came eight +strong Indians bearing a litter, a sort of chair with long handles +underneath to carry it by. + +Kneeling down on one knee, bending his head almost to the ground, the +old man addressed the Doctor who now stood in the doorway putting on +his collar and tie. + +“Oh, Mighty One,” said he, “we bring you word from the Popsipetel +people. Great are your deeds beyond belief, kind is your heart and your +wisdom, deeper than the sea. Our chief is dead. The people clamor for a +worthy leader. Our old enemies, the Bag-jagderags are become, through +you, our brothers and good friends. They too desire to bask beneath the +sunshine of your smile. Behold then, I bring to you the Sacred Crown of +Popsipetel which, since ancient days when this island and its peoples +were one, beneath one monarch, has rested on no kingly brow. Oh Kindly +One, we are bidden by the united voices of the peoples of this land to +carry you to the Whispering Rocks, that there, with all respect and +majesty, you may be crowned our king—King of all the Moving Land.” + +The good Indians did not seem to have even considered the possibility +of John Dolittle’s refusing. As for the poor Doctor, I never saw him so +upset by anything. It was in fact the only time I have known him to +get thoroughly fussed. + +“Oh dear!” I heard him murmur, looking around wildly for some escape. +“What _shall_ I do?—Did any of you see where I laid that stud of +mine?—How on earth can I get this collar on without a stud? What a day +this is, to be sure!—Maybe it rolled under the bed, Bumpo—I do think +they might have given me a day or so to think it over in. Who ever +heard of waking a man right out of his sleep, and telling him he’s got +to be a king, before he has even washed his face? Can’t any of you find +it? Maybe you’re standing on it, Bumpo. Move your feet.” + +“Oh don’t bother about your stud,” said Polynesia. “You will have to be +crowned without a collar. They won’t know the difference.” + +“I tell you I’m not going to be crowned,” cried the Doctor—“not if I +can help it. I’ll make them a speech. Perhaps that will satisfy them.” + +He turned back to the Indians at the door. + +“My friends,” he said, “I am not worthy of this great honor you would +do me. Little or no skill have I in the arts of kingcraft. Assuredly +among your own brave men you will find many better fitted to lead you. +For this compliment, this confidence and trust, I thank you. But, I +pray you, do not think of me for such high duties which I could not +possibly fulfil.” + +The old man repeated his words to the people behind him in a louder +voice. Stolidly they shook their heads, moving not an inch. The old man +turned back to the Doctor. + +“You are the chosen one,” said he. “They will have none but you.” + +Into the Doctor’s perplexed face suddenly there came a flash of hope. + +“I’ll go and see Long Arrow,” he whispered to me. “Perhaps he will know +of some way to get me out of this.” + +And asking the personages to excuse him a moment, he left them there, +standing at his door, and hurried off in the direction of Long Arrow’s +house. I followed him. + +We found our big friend lying on a grass bed outside his home, where he +had been moved that he might witness the holiday-making. + +“Long Arrow,” said the Doctor speaking quickly in eagle tongue so +that the bystanders should not overhear, “in dire peril I come to you +for help. These men would make me their king. If such a thing befall +me, all the great work I hoped to do must go undone, for who is there +unfreer than a king? I pray you speak with them and persuade their kind +well-meaning hearts that what they plan to do would be unwise.” + +Long Arrow raised himself upon his elbow. + +“Oh Kindly One,” said he (this seemed now to have become the usual +manner of address when speaking to the Doctor), “sorely it grieves me +that the first wish you ask of me I should be unable to grant. Alas! I +can do nothing. These people have so set their hearts on keeping you +for king that if I tried to interfere they would drive me from their +land and likely crown you in the end in any case. A king you must be, +if only for a while. We must so arrange the business of governing that +you may have time to give to Nature’s secrets. Later we may be able to +hit upon some plan to relieve you of the burden of the crown. But for +now you must be king. These people are a headstrong tribe and they will +have their way. There is no other course.” + +Sadly the Doctor turned away from the bed and faced about. And there +behind him stood the old man again, the crown still held in his +wrinkled hands and the royal litter waiting at his elbow. With a deep +reverence the bearers motioned towards the seat of the chair, inviting +the white man to get in. + +Once more the poor Doctor looked wildly, hopelessly about him for +some means of escape. For a moment I thought he was going to take to +his heels and run for it. But the crowd around us was far too thick +and densely packed for anyone to break through it. A band of whistles +and drums near by suddenly started the music of a solemn processional +march. He turned back pleadingly again to Long Arrow in a last appeal +for help. But the big Indian merely shook his head and pointed, like +the bearers, to the waiting chair. + +At last, almost in tears, John Dolittle stepped slowly into the litter +and sat down. As he was hoisted on to the broad shoulders of the +bearers I heard him still feebly muttering beneath his breath, + +“Botheration take it!—I don’t _want_ to be a king!” + +“Farewell!” called Long Arrow from his bed, “and may good fortune ever +stand within the shadow of your throne!” + +“He comes!—He comes!” murmured the crowd. “Away! Away!—To the +Whispering Rocks!” + +And as the procession formed up to leave the village, the crowd about +us began hurrying off in the direction of the mountains to make sure of +good seats in the giant theatre where the crowning ceremony would take +place. + + + + +_THE TENTH CHAPTER_ + +THE CORONATION OF KING JONG + + +IN my long lifetime I have seen many grand and inspiring things, but +never anything that impressed me half as much as the sight of the +Whispering Rocks as they looked on the day King Jong was crowned. As +Bumpo, Chee-Chee, Polynesia, Jip and I finally reached the dizzy edge +of the great bowl and looked down inside it, it was like gazing over +a never-ending ocean of copper-colored faces; for every seat in the +theatre was filled, every man, woman and child in the island—including +Long Arrow who had been carried up on his sick bed—was there to see the +show. + +Yet not a sound, not a pin-drop, disturbed the solemn silence of the +Whispering Rocks. It was quite creepy and sent chills running up and +down your spine. Bumpo told me afterwards that it took his breath away +too much for him to speak, but that he hadn’t known before that there +were that many people in the world. + +Away down by the Table of the Throne stood a brand-new, brightly +colored totem-pole. All the Indian families had totem-poles and kept +them set up before the doors of their houses. The idea of a totem-pole +is something like a door-plate or a visiting card. It represents in its +carvings the deeds and qualities of the family to which it belongs. +This one, beautifully decorated and much higher than any other, was the +Dolittle or, as it was to be henceforth called, the Royal Thinkalot +totem. It had nothing but animals on it, to signify the Doctor’s great +knowledge of creatures. And the animals chosen to be shown were those +which to the Indians were supposed to represent good qualities of +character, such as, the deer for speed; the ox for perseverance; the +fish for discretion, and so on. But at the top of the totem is always +placed the sign or animal by which the family is most proud to be +known. This, on the Thinkalot pole, was an enormous parrot, in memory +of the famous Peace of the Parrots. + +The Ivory Throne had been all polished with scented oil and it +glistened whitely in the strong sunlight. At the foot of it there had +been strewn great quantities of branches of flowering trees, which with +the new warmth of milder climates were now blossoming in the valleys of +the island. + +Soon we saw the royal litter, with the Doctor seated in it, slowly +ascending the winding steps of the Table. Reaching the flat top at +last, it halted and the Doctor stepped out upon the flowery carpet. So +still and perfect was the silence that even at that distance above I +distinctly heard a twig snap beneath his tread. + +Walking to the throne accompanied by the old man, the Doctor got up +upon the stand and sat down. How tiny his little round figure looked +when seen from that tremendous height! The throne had been made for +longer-legged kings; and when he was seated, his feet did not reach the +ground but dangled six inches from the top step. + +Then the old man turned round and looking up at the people began to +speak in a quiet even voice; but every word he said was easily heard in +the furthest corner of the Whispering Rocks. + +First he recited the names of all the great Popsipetel kings who +in days long ago had been crowned in this ivory chair. He spoke of +the greatness of the Popsipetel people, of their triumphs, of their +hardships. Then waving his hand towards the Doctor he began recounting +the things which this king-to-be had done. And I am bound to say that +they easily outmatched the deeds of those who had gone before him. + +As soon as he started to speak of what the Doctor had achieved for the +tribe, the people, still strictly silent, all began waving their right +hands towards the throne. This gave to the vast theatre a very singular +appearance: acres and acres of something moving—with never a sound. + +At last the old man finished his speech and stepping up to the chair, +very respectfully removed the Doctor’s battered high hat. He was about +to put it upon the ground; but the Doctor took it from him hastily and +kept it on his lap. Then taking up the Sacred Crown he placed it upon +John Dolittle’s head. It did not fit very well (for it had been made +for smaller-headed kings), and when the wind blew in freshly from the +sunlit sea the Doctor had some difficulty in keeping it on. But it +looked very splendid. + +Turning once more to the people, the old man said, + +“Men of Popsipetel, behold your elected king!—Are you content?” + +And then at last the voice of the people broke loose. + +“JONG! JONG!” they shouted, “LONG LIVE KING JONG!” + +The sound burst upon the solemn silence with the crash of a hundred +cannon. There, where even a whisper carried miles, the shock of it was +like a blow in the face. Back and forth the mountains threw it to one +another. I thought the echoes of it would never die away as it passed +rumbling through the whole island, jangling among the lower valleys, +booming in the distant sea-caves. + +Suddenly I saw the old man point upward, to the highest mountain in the +island; and looking over my shoulder, I was just in time to see the +Hanging Stone topple slowly out of sight—down into the heart of the +volcano. + +“See ye, Men of the Moving Land!” the old man cried: “The stone has +fallen and our legend has come true: the King of Kings is crowned this +day!” + +The Doctor too had seen the stone fall and he was now standing up +looking at the sea expectantly. + +“He’s thinking of the air-chamber,” said Bumpo in my ear. “Let us hope +that the sea isn’t very deep in these parts.” + +After a full minute (so long did it take the stone to fall that depth) +we heard a muffled, distant, crunching thud—and then immediately after, +a great hissing of escaping air. The Doctor, his face tense with +anxiety, sat down in the throne again still watching the blue water of +the ocean with staring eyes. + +Soon we felt the island slowly sinking beneath us. We saw the sea creep +inland over the beaches as the shores went down—one foot, three feet, +ten feet, twenty, fifty, a hundred. And then, thank goodness, gently as +a butterfly alighting on a rose, it stopped! Spidermonkey Island had +come to rest on the sandy bottom of the Atlantic, and earth was joined +to earth once more. + +Of course many of the houses near the shores were now under water. +Popsipetel Village itself had entirely disappeared. But it didn’t +matter. No one was drowned; for every soul in the island was high up +in the hills watching the coronation of King Jong. + +The Indians themselves did not realize at the time what was taking +place, though of course they had felt the land sinking beneath them. +The Doctor told us afterwards that it must have been the shock of that +tremendous shout, coming from a million throats at once, which had +toppled the Hanging Stone off its perch. But in Popsipetel history the +story was handed down (and it is firmly believed to this day) that when +King Jong sat upon the throne, so great was his mighty weight, that the +very island itself sank down to do him honor and never moved again. + +[Illustration] + + + + +PART SIX + + + + +_THE FIRST CHAPTER_ + +NEW POPSIPETEL + + +JONG THINKALOT had not ruled over his new kingdom for more than a +couple of days before my notions about kings and the kind of lives they +led changed very considerably. I had thought that all that kings had to +do was to sit on a throne and have people bow down before them several +times a day. I now saw that a king can be the hardest-working man in +the world—if he attends properly to his business. + +From the moment that he got up, early in the morning, till the time he +went to bed, late at night—seven days in the week—John Dolittle was +busy, busy, busy. First of all there was the new town to be built. The +village of Popsipetel had disappeared: the City of New Popsipetel must +be made. With great care a place was chosen for it—and a very beautiful +position it was, at the mouth of a large river. The shores of the +island at this point formed a lovely wide bay where canoes—and ships +too, if they should ever come—could lie peacefully at anchor without +danger from storms. + +In building this town the Doctor gave the Indians a lot of new +ideas. He showed them what town-sewers were, and how garbage should +be collected each day and burnt. High up in the hills he made a large +lake by damming a stream. This was the water-supply for the town. None +of these things had the Indians ever seen; and many of the sicknesses +which they had suffered from before were now entirely prevented by +proper drainage and pure drinking-water. + +Peoples who don’t use fire do not of course have metals either; because +without fire it is almost impossible to shape iron and steel. One of +the first things that John Dolittle did was to search the mountains +till he found iron and copper mines. Then he set to work to teach the +Indians how these metals could be melted and made into knives and plows +and water-pipes and all manner of things. + +In his kingdom the Doctor tried his hardest to do away with most of the +old-fashioned pomp and grandeur of a royal court. As he said to Bumpo +and me, if he must be a king he meant to be a thoroughly democratic +one, that is a king who is chummy and friendly with his subjects and +doesn’t put on airs. And when he drew up the plans for the City of New +Popsipetel he had no palace shown of any kind. A little cottage in a +back street was all that he had provided for himself. + +But this the Indians would not permit on any account. They had been +used to having their kings rule in a truly grand and kingly manner; +and they insisted that he have built for himself the most magnificent +palace ever seen. In all else they let him have his own way absolutely; +but they wouldn’t allow him to wriggle out of any of the ceremony or +show that goes with being a king. A thousand servants he had to keep in +his palace, night and day, to wait on him. The Royal Canoe had to be +kept up—a gorgeous, polished mahogany boat, seventy feet long, inlaid +with mother-o’-pearl and paddled by the hundred strongest men in the +island. The palace-gardens covered a square mile and employed a hundred +and sixty gardeners. + +Even in his dress the poor man was compelled always to be grand and +elegant and uncomfortable. The beloved and battered high hat was put +away in a closet and only looked at secretly. State robes had to be +worn on all occasions. And when the Doctor did once in a while manage +to sneak off for a short, natural-history expedition he never dared to +wear his old clothes, but had to chase his butterflies with a crown +upon his head and a scarlet cloak flying behind him in the wind. + +There was no end to the kinds of duties the Doctor had to perform and +the questions he had to decide upon—everything, from settling disputes +about lands and boundaries, to making peace between husband and wife +who had been throwing shoes at one another. In the east wing of the +Royal Palace was the Hall of Justice. And here King Jong sat every +morning from nine to eleven passing judgment on all cases that were +brought before him. + +[Illustration: “Had to chase his butterflies with a crown upon his +head”] + +Then in the afternoon he taught school. The sort of things he taught +were not always those you find in ordinary schools. Grown-ups as well +as children came to learn. You see, these Indians were ignorant of many +of the things that quite small white children know—though it is also +true that they knew a lot that white grown-ups never dreamed of. + +Bumpo and I helped with the teaching as far as we could—simple +arithmetic, and easy things like that. But the classes in astronomy, +farming science, the proper care of babies, with a host of other +subjects, the Doctor had to teach himself. The Indians were +tremendously keen about the schooling and they came in droves and +crowds; so that even with the open-air classes (a school-house was +impossible of course) the Doctor had to take them in relays and batches +of five or six thousand at a time and used a big megaphone or trumpet +to make himself heard. + +The rest of his day was more than filled with road-making, building +water-mills, attending the sick and a million other things. + +In spite of his being so unwilling to become a king, John Dolittle +made a very good one—once he got started. He may not have been as +dignified as many kings in history who were always running off to war +and getting themselves into romantic situations; but since I have grown +up and seen something of foreign lands and governments I have often +thought that Popsipetel under the reign of Jong Thinkalot was perhaps +the best ruled state in the history of the world. + +The Doctor’s birthday came round after we had been on the island +six months and a half. The people made a great public holiday of it +and there was much feasting, dancing, fireworks, speechmaking and +jollification. + +Towards the close of the day the chief men of the two tribes formed a +procession and passed through the streets of the town, carrying a very +gorgeously painted tablet of ebony wood, ten feet high. This was a +picture-history, such as they preserved for each of the ancient kings +of Popsipetel to record their deeds. + +With great and solemn ceremony it was set up over the door of the new +palace: and everybody then clustered round to look at it. It had six +pictures on it commemorating the six great events in the life of King +Jong and beneath were written the verses that explained them. They were +composed by the Court Poet; and this is a translation: + + +I + +(_His Landing on The Island_) + + Heaven-sent, + In his dolphin-drawn canoe + From worlds unknown + He landed on our shores. + The very palms + Bowed down their heads + In welcome to the coming King. + + +II + +(_His Meeting With The Beetle_) + + By moonlight in the mountains + He communed with beasts. + The shy Jabizri brings him picture-words + Of great distress. + + +III + +(_He liberates The Lost Families_) + + Big was his heart with pity; + Big were his hands with strength. + See how he tears the mountain like a yam! + See how the lost ones + Dance forth to greet the day! + + +IV + +(_He Makes Fire_) + + Our land was cold and dying. + He waved his hand and lo! + Lightning leapt from cloudless skies; + The sun leant down; + And Fire was born! + Then while we crowded round + The grateful glow, pushed he + Our wayward, floating land + Back to peaceful anchorage + In sunny seas. + + +V + +(_He Leads The People To Victory in War_) + + Once only + Was his kindly countenance + Darkened by a deadly frown. + Woe to the wicked enemy + That dares attack + The tribe with Thinkalot for Chief! + + +VI + +(_He Is Crowned King_) + + The birds of the air rejoiced; + The Sea laughed and gambolled with her shores; + All Red-skins wept for joy + The day we crowned him King. + He is the Builder, the Healer, the Teacher and the Prince; + He is the greatest of them all. + May he live a thousand thousand years, + Happy in his heart, + To bless our land with Peace. + + + + +_THE SECOND CHAPTER_ + +THOUGHTS OF HOME + + +IN the Royal Palace Bumpo and I had a beautiful suite of rooms of our +very own—which Polynesia, Jip and Chee-Chee shared with us. Officially +Bumpo was Minister of the Interior; while I was First Lord of the +Treasury. Long Arrow also had quarters there; but at present he was +absent, traveling abroad. + +One night after supper when the Doctor was away in the town somewhere +visiting a new-born baby, we were all sitting round the big table in +Bumpo’s reception-room. This we did every evening, to talk over the +plans for the following day and various affairs of state. It was a kind +of Cabinet Meeting. + +To-night however we were talking about England—and also about things +to eat. We had got a little tired of Indian food. You see, none of +the natives knew how to cook; and we had the most discouraging time +training a chef for the Royal Kitchen. Most of them were champions at +spoiling good food. Often we got so hungry that the Doctor would sneak +downstairs with us into the palace basement, after all the cooks were +safe in bed, and fry pancakes secretly over the dying embers of the +fire. The Doctor himself was the finest cook that ever lived. But he +used to make a terrible mess of the kitchen; and of course we had to be +awfully careful that we didn’t get caught. + +Well, as I was saying, to-night food was the subject of discussion at +the Cabinet Meeting; and I had just been reminding Bumpo of the nice +dishes we had had at the bed-maker’s house in Monteverde. + +“I tell you what I would like now,” said Bumpo: “a large cup of cocoa +with whipped cream on the top of it. In Oxford we used to be able to +get the most wonderful cocoa. It is really too bad they haven’t any +cocoa-trees in this island, or cows to give cream.” + +“When do you suppose,” asked Jip, “the Doctor intends to move on from +here?” + +“I was talking to him about that only yesterday,” said Polynesia. “But +I couldn’t get any satisfactory answer out of him. He didn’t seem to +want to speak about it.” + +There was a pause in the conversation. + +“Do you know what I believe?” she added presently. “I believe the +Doctor has given up even thinking of going home.” + +“Good Lord!” cried Bumpo. “You don’t say!” + +“Sh!” said Polynesia. “What’s that noise?” + +We listened; and away off in the distant corridors of the palace we +heard the sentries crying, + +“The King!—Make way!—The King!” + +“It’s he—at last,” whispered Polynesia—“late, as usual. Poor man, how +he does work!—Chee-Chee, get the pipe and tobacco out of the cupboard +and lay the dressing-gown ready on his chair.” + +When the Doctor came into the room he looked serious and thoughtful. +Wearily he took off his crown and hung it on a peg behind the door. +Then he exchanged the royal cloak for the dressing-gown, dropped into +his chair at the head of the table with a deep sigh and started to fill +his pipe. + +“Well,” asked Polynesia quietly, “how did you find the baby?” + +“The baby?” he murmured—his thoughts still seemed to be very far +away—“Ah yes. The baby was much better, thank you—It has cut its second +tooth.” + +Then he was silent again, staring dreamily at the ceiling through a +cloud of tobacco-smoke; while we all sat round quite still, waiting. + +“We were wondering, Doctor,” said I at last,—“just before you came +in—when you would be starting home again. We will have been on this +island seven months to-morrow.” + +The Doctor sat forward in his chair looking rather uncomfortable. + +“Well, as a matter of fact,” said he after a moment, “I meant to speak +to you myself this evening on that very subject. But it’s—er—a little +hard to make any one exactly understand the situation. I am afraid +that it would be impossible for me to leave the work I am now engaged +on.... You remember, when they first insisted on making me king, I told +you it was not easy to shake off responsibilities, once you had taken +them up. These people have come to rely on me for a great number of +things. We found them ignorant of much that white people enjoy. And we +have, one might say, changed the current of their lives considerably. +Now it is a very ticklish business, to change the lives of other +people. And whether the changes we have made will be, in the end, for +good or for bad, is our lookout.” + +He thought a moment—then went on in a quieter, sadder voice: + +“I would like to continue my voyages and my natural history work; and +I would like to go back to Puddleby—as much as any of you. This is +March, and the crocuses will be showing in the lawn.... But that which +I feared has come true: I cannot close my eyes to what might happen if +I should leave these people and run away. They would probably go back +to their old habits and customs: wars, superstitions, devil-worship and +what not; and many of the new things we have taught them might be put +to improper use and make their condition, then, worse by far than that +in which we found them.... They like me; they trust me; they have come +to look to me for help in all their problems and troubles. And no man +wants to do unfair things to them who trust him.... And then again, _I_ +like _them_. They are, as it were, my children—I never had any children +of my own—and I am terribly interested in how they will grow up. Don’t +you see what I mean?—How can I possibly run away and leave them in the +lurch?... No. I have thought it over a good deal and tried to decide +what was best. And I am afraid that the work I took up when I assumed +the crown I must stick to. I’m afraid—I’ve got to stay.” + +“For good—for your whole life?” asked Bumpo in a low voice. + +For some moments the Doctor, frowning, made no answer. + +“I don’t know,” he said at last—“Anyhow for the present there is +certainly no hope of my leaving. It wouldn’t be right.” + +The sad silence that followed was broken finally by a knock upon the +door. + +With a patient sigh the Doctor got up and put on his crown and cloak +again. + +“Come in,” he called, sitting down in his chair once more. + +The door opened and a footman—one of the hundred and forty-three who +were always on night duty—stood bowing in the entrance. + +“Oh, Kindly One,” said he, “there is a traveler at the palace-gate who +would have speech with Your Majesty.” + +“Another baby’s been born, I’ll bet a shilling,” muttered Polynesia. + +“Did you ask the traveler’s name?” enquired the Doctor. + +“Yes, Your Majesty,” said the footman. “It is Long Arrow, the son of +Golden Arrow.” + + + + +_THE THIRD CHAPTER_ + +THE RED MAN’S SCIENCE + + +“LONG ARROW!” cried the Doctor. “How splendid! Show him in—show him in +at once.” + +“I’m so glad,” he continued, turning to us as soon as the footman had +gone. “I’ve missed Long Arrow terribly. He’s an awfully good man to +have around—even if he doesn’t talk much. Let me see: it’s five months +now since he went off to Brazil. I’m so glad he’s back safe. He does +take such tremendous chances with that canoe of his—clever as he is. +It’s no joke, crossing a hundred miles of open sea in a twelve-foot +canoe. I wouldn’t care to try it.” + +Another knock; and when the door swung open in answer to the Doctor’s +call, there stood our big friend on the threshold, a smile upon his +strong, bronzed face. Behind him appeared two porters carrying loads +done up in Indian palm-matting. These, when the first salutations were +over, Long Arrow ordered to lay their burdens down. + +“Behold, oh Kindly One,” said he, “I bring you, as I promised, my +collection of plants which I had hidden in a cave in the Andes. These +treasures represent the labors of my life.” + +The packages were opened; and inside were many smaller packages and +bundles. Carefully they were laid out in rows upon the table. + +It appeared at first a large but disappointing display. There were +plants, flowers, fruits, leaves, roots, nuts, beans, honeys, gums, +bark, seeds, bees and a few kinds of insects. + +The study of plants—or botany, as it is called—was a kind of natural +history which had never interested me very much. I had considered it, +compared with the study of animals, a dull science. But as Long Arrow +began taking up the various things in his collection and explaining +their qualities to us, I became more and more fascinated. And before +he had done I was completely absorbed by the wonders of the Vegetable +Kingdom which he had brought so far. + +“These,” said he, taking up a little packet of big seeds, “are what I +have called laughing-beans.’” + +“What are they for?” asked Bumpo. + +“To cause mirth,” said the Indian. + +Bumpo, while Long Arrow’s back was turned, took three of the beans and +swallowed them. + +“Alas!” said the Indian when he discovered what Bumpo had done. “If he +wished to try the powers of these seeds he should have eaten no more +than a quarter of a one. Let us hope that he does not die of laughter.” + +The beans’ effect upon Bumpo was most extraordinary. First he broke +into a broad smile; then he began to giggle; finally he burst into +such prolonged roars of hearty laughter that we had to carry him into +the next room and put him to bed. The Doctor said afterwards that he +probably would have died laughing if he had not had such a strong +constitution. All through the night he gurgled happily in his sleep. +And even when we woke him up the next morning he rolled out of bed +still chuckling. + +Returning to the Reception Room, we were shown some red roots which +Long Arrow told us had the property, when made into a soup with sugar +and salt, of causing people to dance with extraordinary speed and +endurance. He asked us to try them; but we refused, thanking him. After +Bumpo’s exhibition we were a little afraid of any more experiments for +the present. + +There was no end to the curious and useful things that Long Arrow +had collected: an oil from a vine which would make hair grow in one +night; an orange as big as a pumpkin which he had raised in his own +mountain-garden in Peru; a black honey (he had brought the bees that +made it too and the seeds of the flowers they fed on) which would put +you to sleep, just with a teaspoonful, and make you wake up fresh +in the morning; a nut that made the voice beautiful for singing; +a water-weed that stopped cuts from bleeding; a moss that cured +snake-bite; a lichen that prevented sea-sickness. + +The Doctor of course was tremendously interested. Well into the early +hours of the morning he was busy going over the articles on the table +one by one, listing their names and writing their properties and +descriptions into a note-book as Long Arrow dictated. + +“There are things here, Stubbins,” he said as he ended, “which in the +hands of skilled druggists will make a vast difference to the medicine +and chemistry of the world. I suspect that this sleeping-honey by +itself will take the place of half the bad drugs we have had to use so +far. Long Arrow has discovered a pharmacopæia of his own. Miranda was +right: he is a great naturalist. His name deserves to be placed beside +Linnæus. Some day I must get all these things to England—But when,” he +added sadly—“Yes, that’s the problem: when?” + + + + +_THE FOURTH CHAPTER_ + +THE SEA-SERPENT + + +FOR a long time after that Cabinet Meeting of which I have just told +you we did not ask the Doctor anything further about going home. Life +in Spidermonkey Island went forward, month in month out, busily and +pleasantly. The Winter, with Christmas celebrations, came and went, and +Summer was with us once again before we knew it. + +As time passed the Doctor became more and more taken up with the care +of his big family; and the hours he could spare for his natural history +work grew fewer and fewer. I knew that he often still thought of his +house and garden in Puddleby and of his old plans and ambitions; +because once in a while we would notice his face grow thoughtful and a +little sad, when something reminded him of England or his old life. But +he never spoke of these things. And I truly believe he would have spent +the remainder of his days on Spidermonkey Island if it hadn’t been for +an accident—and for Polynesia. + +The old parrot had grown very tired of the Indians and she made no +secret of it. + +“The very idea,” she said to me one day as we were walking on the +seashore—“the idea of the famous John Dolittle spending his valuable +life waiting on these greasy natives!—Why, it’s preposterous!” + +All that morning we had been watching the Doctor superintend the +building of the new theatre in Popsipetel—there was already an +opera-house and a concert-hall; and finally she had got so grouchy and +annoyed at the sight that I had suggested her taking a walk with me. + +“Do you really think,” I asked as we sat down on the sands, “that he +will never go back to Puddleby again?” + +“I don’t know,” said she. “At one time I felt sure that the thought +of the pets he had left behind at the house would take him home soon. +But since Miranda brought him word last August that everything was all +right there, that hope’s gone. For months and months I’ve been racking +my brains to think up a plan. If we could only hit upon something that +would turn his thoughts back to natural history again—I mean something +big enough to get him really excited—we might manage it. But how?”—she +shrugged her shoulders in disgust—“How?—when all he thinks of now is +paving streets and teaching papooses that twice one are two!” + +It was a perfect Popsipetel day, bright and hot, blue and yellow. +Drowsily I looked out to sea thinking of my mother and father. I +wondered if they were getting anxious over my long absence. Beside me +old Polynesia went on grumbling away in low steady tones; and her words +began to mingle and mix with the gentle lapping of the waves upon the +shore. It may have been the even murmur of her voice, helped by the +soft and balmy air, that lulled me to sleep. I don’t know. Anyhow I +presently dreamed that the island had moved again—not floatingly as +before, but suddenly, jerkily, as though something enormously powerful +had heaved it up from its bed just once and let it down. + +How long I slept after that I have no idea. I was awakened by a gentle +pecking on the nose. + +“Tommy!—Tommy!” (it was Polynesia’s voice) “Wake up!—Gosh, what a boy, +to sleep through an earthquake and never notice it!—Tommy, listen: +here’s our chance now. Wake _up_, for goodness’ sake!” + +“What’s the matter?” I asked sitting up with a yawn. + +“Sh!—Look!” whispered Polynesia pointing out to sea. + +Still only half awake, I stared before me with bleary, sleep-laden +eyes. And in the shallow water, not more than thirty yards from shore +I saw an enormous pale pink shell. Dome-shaped, it towered up in a +graceful rainbow curve to a tremendous height; and round its base the +surf broke gently in little waves of white. It could have belonged to +the wildest dream. + +“What in the world is it?” I asked. + +“That,” whispered Polynesia, “is what sailors for hundreds of years +have called the _Sea-serpent_. I’ve seen it myself more than once from +the decks of ships, at long range, curving in and out of the water. +But now that I see it close and still, I very strongly suspect that +the Sea-serpent of history is no other than the Great Glass Sea-snail +that the fidgit told us of. If that isn’t the only fish of its kind in +the seven seas, call me a carrion-crow—Tommy, we’re in luck. Our job +is to get the Doctor down here to look at that prize specimen before +it moves off to the Deep Hole. If we can, then trust me, we may leave +this blessed island yet. You stay here and keep an eye on it while I +go after the Doctor. Don’t move or speak—don’t even breathe heavy: he +might get scared—awful timid things, snails. Just watch him; and I’ll +be back in two shakes.” + +Stealthily creeping up the sands till she could get behind the cover +of some bushes before she took to her wings, Polynesia went off in +the direction of the town; while I remained alone upon the shore +fascinatedly watching this unbelievable monster wallowing in the +shallow sea. + +It moved very little. From time to time it lifted its head out of the +water showing its enormously long neck and horns. Occasionally it +would try and draw itself up, the way a snail does when he goes to +move, but almost at once it would sink down again as if exhausted. It +seemed to me to act as though it were hurt underneath; but the lower +part of it, which was below the level of the water, I could not see. + +I was still absorbed in watching the great beast when Polynesia +returned with the Doctor. They approached so silently and so cautiously +that I neither saw nor heard them coming till I found them crouching +beside me on the sand. + +One sight of the snail changed the Doctor completely. His eyes just +sparkled with delight. I had not seen him so thrilled and happy since +the time we caught the Jabizri beetle when we first landed on the +island. + +“It is he!” he whispered—“the Great Glass Sea-snail himself—not a doubt +of it. Polynesia, go down the shore away and see if you can find any +of the porpoises for me. Perhaps they can tell us what the snail is +doing here—It’s very unusual for him to be in shallow water like this. +And Stubbins, you go over to the harbor and bring me a small canoe. But +be most careful how you paddle it round into this bay. If the snail +should take fright and go out into the deeper water, we may never get a +chance to see him again.” + +“And don’t tell any of the Indians,” Polynesia added in a whisper as +I moved to go. “We must keep this a secret or we’ll have a crowd of +sightseers round here in five minutes. It’s mighty lucky we found the +snail in a quiet bay.” + +Reaching the harbor, I picked out a small light canoe from among the +number that were lying there and without telling any one what I wanted +it for, got in and started off to paddle it down the shore. + +I was mortally afraid that the snail might have left before I got back. +And you can imagine how delighted I was, when I rounded a rocky cape +and came in sight of the bay, to find he was still there. + +Polynesia, I saw, had got her errand done and returned ahead of me, +bringing with her a pair of porpoises. These were already conversing in +low tones with John Dolittle. I beached the canoe and went up to listen. + +“What I want to know,” the Doctor was saying, “is how the snail comes +to be here. I was given to understand that he usually stayed in the +Deep Hole; and that when he did come to the surface it was always in +mid-ocean.” + +“Oh, didn’t you know?—Haven’t you heard?” the porpoises replied: “you +covered up the Deep Hole when you sank the island. Why yes: you let it +down right on top of the mouth of the Hole—sort of put the lid on, as +it were. The fishes that were in it at the time have been trying to get +out ever since. The Great Snail had the worst luck of all: the island +nipped him by the tail just as he was leaving the Hole for a quiet +evening stroll. And he was held there for six months trying to wriggle +himself free. Finally he had to heave the whole island up at one end to +get his tail loose. Didn’t you feel a sort of an earthquake shock about +an hour ago?” + +“Yes I did,” said the Doctor, “it shook down part of the theatre I was +building.” + +“Well, that was the snail heaving up the island to get out of the +Hole,” they said. “All the other fishes saw their chance and escaped +when he raised the lid. It was lucky for them he’s so big and strong. +But the strain of that terrific heave told on him: he sprained a muscle +in his tail and it started swelling rather badly. He wanted some quiet +place to rest up; and seeing this soft beach handy he crawled in here.” + +“Dear me!” said the Doctor. “I’m terribly sorry. I suppose I should +have given some sort of notice that the island was going to be let +down. But, to tell the truth, we didn’t know it ourselves; it happened +by a kind of an accident. Do you imagine the poor fellow is hurt very +badly?” + +“We’re not sure,” said the porpoises; “because none of us can speak his +language. But we swam right around him on our way in here, and he did +not seem to be really seriously injured.” + +“Can’t any of your people speak shellfish?” the Doctor asked. + +“Not a word,” said they. “It’s a most frightfully difficult language.” + +“Do you think that you might be able to find me some kind of a fish +that could?” + +“We don’t know,” said the porpoises. “We might try.” + +“I should be extremely grateful to you if you would,” said the Doctor. +“There are many important questions I want to ask this snail—And +besides, I would like to do my best to cure his tail for him. It’s the +least I can do. After all, it was my fault, indirectly, that he got +hurt.” + +“Well, if you wait here,” said the porpoises, “we’ll see what can be +done.” + + + + +_THE FIFTH CHAPTER_ + +THE SHELLFISH RIDDLE SOLVED AT LAST + + +SO Doctor Dolittle with a crown on his head sat down upon the shore +like King Knut, and waited. And for a whole hour the porpoises kept +going and coming, bringing up different kinds of sea-beasts from the +deep to see if they could help him. + +Many and curious were the creatures they produced. It would seem +however that there were very few things that spoke shellfish except +the shellfish themselves. Still, the porpoises grew a little more +hopeful when they discovered a very old sea-urchin (a funny, ball-like, +little fellow with long whiskers all over him) who said he could not +speak pure shellfish, but he used to understand starfish—enough to get +along—when he was young. This was coming nearer, even if it wasn’t +anything to go crazy about. Leaving the urchin with us, the porpoises +went off once more to hunt up a starfish. + +They were not long getting one, for they were quite common in those +parts. Then, using the sea-urchin as an interpreter, they questioned +the starfish. He was a rather stupid sort of creature; but he tried his +best to be helpful. And after a little patient examination we found to +our delight that he could speak shellfish moderately well. + +Feeling quite encouraged, the Doctor and I now got into the canoe; and, +with the porpoises, the urchin and the starfish swimming alongside, we +paddled very gently out till we were close under the towering shell of +the Great Snail. + +And then began the most curious conversation I have ever witnessed. +First the starfish would ask the snail something; and whatever answer +the snail gave, the starfish would tell it to the sea-urchin, the +urchin would tell it to the porpoises and the porpoises would tell it +to the Doctor. + +In this way we obtained considerable information, mostly about the very +ancient history of the Animal Kingdom; but we missed a good many of the +finer points in the snail’s longer speeches on account of the stupidity +of the starfish and all this translating from one language to another. + +While the snail was speaking, the Doctor and I put our ears against the +wall of his shell and found that we could in this way hear the sound of +his voice quite plainly. It was, as the fidgit had described, deep and +bell-like. But of course we could not understand a single word he said. +However the Doctor was by this time terrifically excited about getting +near to learning the language he had sought so long. And presently by +making the other fishes repeat over and over again short phrases which +the snail used, he began to put words together for himself. You see, +he was already familiar with one or two fish languages; and that helped +him quite a little. After he had practised for a while like this he +leant over the side of the canoe and putting his face below the water, +tried speaking to the snail direct. + +It was hard and difficult work; and hours went by before he got any +results. But presently I could tell by the happy look on his face that +little by little he was succeeding. + +The sun was low in the West and the cool evening breeze was beginning +to rustle softly through the bamboo-groves when the Doctor finally +turned from his work and said to me, + +“Stubbins, I have persuaded the snail to come in on to the dry part of +the beach and let me examine his tail. Will you please go back to the +town and tell the workmen to stop working on the theatre for to-day? +Then go on to the palace and get my medicine-bag. I think I left it +under the throne in the Audience Chamber.” + +“And remember,” Polynesia whispered as I turned away, “not a word to +a soul. If you get asked questions, keep your mouth shut. Pretend you +have a toothache or something.” + +This time when I got back to the shore—with the medicine-bag—I found +the snail high and dry on the beach. Seeing him in his full length like +this, it was easy to understand how old-time, superstitious sailors +had called him the Sea-serpent. He certainly was a most gigantic, and +in his way, a graceful, beautiful creature. John Dolittle was examining +a swelling on his tail. + +From the bag which I had brought the Doctor took a large bottle of +embrocation and began rubbing the sprain. Next he took all the bandages +he had in the bag and fastened them end to end. But even like that, +they were not long enough to go more than halfway round the enormous +tail. The Doctor insisted that he must get the swelling strapped tight +somehow. So he sent me off to the palace once more to get all the +sheets from the Royal Linen-closet. These Polynesia and I tore into +bandages for him. And at last, after terrific exertions, we got the +sprain strapped to his satisfaction. + +The snail really seemed to be quite pleased with the attention he had +received; and he stretched himself in lazy comfort when the Doctor was +done. In this position, when the shell on his back was empty, you could +look right through it and see the palm-trees on the other side. + +“I think one of us had better sit up with him all night,” said the +Doctor. “We might put Bumpo on that duty; he’s been napping all day, I +know—in the summer-house. It’s a pretty bad sprain, that; and if the +snail shouldn’t be able to sleep, he’ll be happier with some one with +him for company. He’ll get all right though—in a few days I should +judge. If I wasn’t so confoundedly busy I’d sit up with him myself. I +wish I could, because I still have a lot of things to talk over with +him.” + +“But Doctor,” said Polynesia as we prepared to go back to the town, +“you ought to take a holiday. All Kings take holidays once in the +while—every one of them. King Charles, for instance—of course Charles +was before your time—but he!—why, he was _always_ holiday-making. Not +that he was ever what you would call a model king. But just the same, +he was frightfully popular. Everybody liked him—even the golden-carp in +the fish-pond at Hampton Court. As a king, the only thing I had against +him was his inventing those stupid, little, snappy dogs they call King +Charles Spaniels. There are lots of stories told about poor Charles; +but that, in my opinion, is the worst thing he did. However, all this +is beside the point. As I was saying, kings have to take holidays the +same as anybody else. And you haven’t taken one since you were crowned, +have you now?” + +“No,” said the Doctor, “I suppose that’s true.” + +“Well now I tell you what you do,” said she: “as soon as you get back +to the palace you publish a royal proclamation that you are going away +for a week into the country for your health. And you’re going _without +any servants_, you understand—just like a plain person. It’s called +traveling incognito, when kings go off like that. They all do it—It’s +the only way they can ever have a good time. Then the week you’re away +you can spend lolling on the beach back there with the snail. How’s +that?” + +“I’d like to,” said the Doctor. “It sounds most attractive. But there’s +that new theatre to be built; none of our carpenters would know how to +get those rafters on without me to show them—And then there are the +babies: these native mothers are so frightfully ignorant.” + +“Oh bother the theatre—and the babies too,” snapped Polynesia. “The +theatre can wait a week. And as for babies, they never have anything +more than colic. How do you suppose babies got along before you came +here, for heaven’s sake?—Take a holiday.... You need it.” + + + + +_THE SIXTH CHAPTER_ + +THE LAST CABINET MEETING + + +FROM the way Polynesia talked, I guessed that this idea of a holiday +was part of her plan. + +The Doctor made no reply; and we walked on silently towards the town. I +could see, nevertheless that her words had made an impression on him. + +After supper he disappeared from the palace without saying where he was +going—a thing he had never done before. Of course we all knew where he +had gone: back to the beach to sit up with the snail. We were sure of +it because he had said nothing to Bumpo about attending to the matter. + +As soon as the doors were closed upon the Cabinet Meeting that night, +Polynesia addressed the Ministry: + +“Look here, you fellows,” said she: “we’ve simply got to get the Doctor +to take this holiday somehow—unless we’re willing to stay in this +blessed island for the rest of our lives.” + +“But what difference,” Bumpo asked, “is his taking a holiday going to +make?” + +Impatiently Polynesia turned upon the Minister of the Interior. + +“Don’t you see? If he has a clear week to get thoroughly interested in +his natural history again—marine stuff, his dream of seeing the floor +of the ocean and all that—there may be some chance of his consenting +to leave this pesky place. But while he is here on duty as king he +never gets a moment to think of anything outside of the business of +government.” + +“Yes, that’s true. He’s far too consententious,” Bumpo agreed. + +“And besides,” Polynesia went on, “his only hope of ever getting away +from here would be to escape secretly. He’s got to leave while he is +holiday-making, incognito—when no one knows where he is or what he’s +doing, but us. If he built a ship big enough to cross the sea in, all +the Indians would see it, and hear it, being built; and they’d ask what +it was for. They would interfere. They’d sooner have anything happen +than lose the Doctor. Why, I believe if they thought he had any idea of +escaping they would put chains on him.” + +“Yes, I really think they would,” I agreed. “Yet without a ship of some +kind I don’t see how the Doctor is going to get away, even secretly.” + +“Well, I’ll tell you,” said Polynesia. “If we do succeed in making +him take this holiday, our next step will be to get the sea-snail +to promise to take us all in his shell and carry us to the mouth of +Puddleby River. If we can once get the snail willing, the temptation +will be too much for John Dolittle and he’ll come, I know—especially as +he’ll be able to take those new plants and drugs of Long Arrow’s to the +English doctors, as well as see the floor of the ocean on the way.” + +“How thrilling!” I cried. “Do you mean the snail could take us under +the sea all the way back to Puddleby?” + +“Certainly,” said Polynesia, “a little trip like that is nothing to +him. He would crawl along the floor of the ocean and the Doctor could +see all the sights. Perfectly simple. Oh, John Dolittle will come all +right, if we can only get him to take that holiday—_and_ if the snail +will consent to give us the ride.” + +“Golly, I hope he does!” sighed Jip. “I’m sick of these beastly +tropics—they make you feel so lazy and good-for-nothing. And there +are no rats or anything here—not that a fellow would have the energy +to chase ’em even if there were. My, wouldn’t I be glad to see old +Puddleby and the garden again! And won’t Dab-Dab be glad to have us +back!” + +“By the end of next month,” said I, “it will be two whole years since +we left England—since we pulled up the anchor at Kingsbridge and bumped +our way out into the river.” + +“And got stuck on the mud-bank,” added Chee-Chee in a dreamy, far-away +voice. + +“Do you remember how all the people waved to us from the river-wall?” I +asked. + +“Yes. And I suppose they’ve often talked about us in the town since,” +said Jip—“wondering whether we’re dead or alive.” + +“Cease,” said Bumpo, “I feel I am about to weep from sediment.” + + + + +_THE SEVENTH CHAPTER_ + +THE DOCTOR’S DECISION + + +WELL, you can guess how glad we were when next morning the Doctor, +after his all-night conversation with the snail, told us that he had +made up his mind to take the holiday. A proclamation was published +right away by the Town Crier that His Majesty was going into the +country for a seven-day rest, but that during his absence the palace +and the government offices would be kept open as usual. + +Polynesia was immensely pleased. She at once set quietly to work making +arrangements for our departure—taking good care the while that no one +should get an inkling of where we were going, what we were taking with +us, the hour of our leaving or which of the palace-gates we would go +out by. + +Cunning old schemer that she was, she forgot nothing. And not even we, +who were of the Doctor’s party, could imagine what reasons she had +for some of her preparations. She took me inside and told me that the +one thing I must remember to bring with me was _all_ of the Doctor’s +note-books. Long Arrow, who was the only Indian let into the secret +of our destination, said he would like to come with us as far as the +beach to see the Great Snail; and him Polynesia told to be sure and +bring his collection of plants. Bumpo she ordered to carry the Doctor’s +high hat—carefully hidden under his coat. She sent off nearly all the +footmen who were on night duty to do errands in the town, so that there +should be as few servants as possible to see us leave. And midnight, +the hour when most of the townspeople would be asleep, she finally +chose for our departure. + +We had to take a week’s food-supply with us for the royal holiday. So, +with our other packages, we were heavy laden when on the stroke of +twelve we opened the west door of the palace and stepped cautiously and +quietly into the moonlit garden. + +“Tiptoe incognito,” whispered Bumpo as we gently closed the heavy doors +behind us. + +No one had seen us leave. + +At the foot of the stone steps leading from the Peacock Terrace to the +Sunken Rosary, something made me pause and look back at the magnificent +palace which we had built in this strange, far-off land where no white +men but ourselves had ever come. Somehow I felt it in my bones that we +were leaving it to-night never to return again. And I wondered what +other kings and ministers would dwell in its splendid halls when we +were gone. The air was hot; and everything was deadly still but for the +gentle splashing of the tame flamingoes paddling in the lily-pond. +Suddenly the twinkling lantern of a night watchman appeared round the +corner of a cypress hedge. Polynesia plucked at my stocking and, in an +impatient whisper, bade me hurry before our flight be discovered. + +On our arrival at the beach we found the snail already feeling much +better and now able to move his tail without pain. + +The porpoises (who are by nature inquisitive creatures) were still +hanging about in the offing to see if anything of interest was going to +happen. Polynesia, the plotter, while the Doctor was occupied with his +new patient, signaled to them and drew them aside for a little private +chat. + +“Now see here, my friends,” said she speaking low: “you know how much +John Dolittle has done for the animals—given his whole life up to them, +one might say. Well, here is your chance to do something for him. +Listen: he got made king of this island against his will, see? And now +that he has taken the job on, he feels that he can’t leave it—thinks +the Indians won’t be able to get along without him and all that—which +is nonsense, as you and I very well know. All right. Then here’s the +point: if this snail were only willing to take him and us—and a little +baggage—not very much, thirty or forty pieces, say—inside his shell and +carry us to England, we feel sure that the Doctor would go; because +he’s just crazy to mess about on the floor of the ocean. What’s more +this would be his one and only chance of escape from the island. Now +it is highly important that the Doctor return to his own country to +carry on his proper work which means such a lot to the animals of the +world. So what we want you to do is to tell the sea-urchin to tell the +starfish to tell the snail to take us in his shell and carry us to +Puddleby River. Is that plain?” + +[Illustration: “‘Tiptoe incognito,’ whispered Bumpo”] + +“Quite, quite,” said the porpoises. “And we will willingly do our very +best to persuade him—for it is, as you say, a perfect shame for the +great man to be wasting his time here when he is so much needed by the +animals.” + +“And don’t let the Doctor know what you’re about,” said Polynesia as +they started to move off. “He might balk if he thought we had any hand +in it. Get the snail to offer on his own account to take us. See?” + +John Dolittle, unaware of anything save the work he was engaged on, was +standing knee-deep in the shallow water, helping the snail try out his +mended tail to see if it were well enough to travel on. Bumpo and Long +Arrow, with Chee-Chee and Jip, were lolling at the foot of a palm a +little way up the beach. Polynesia and I now went and joined them. + +Half an hour passed. + +What success the porpoises had met with, we did not know, till suddenly +the Doctor left the snail’s side and came splashing out to us, quite +breathless. + +“What _do_ you think?” he cried, “while I was talking to the snail +just now he offered, of his own accord, to take us all back to England +inside his shell. He says he has got to go on a voyage of discovery +anyway, to hunt up a new home, now that the Deep Hole is closed. Said +it wouldn’t be much out of his way to drop us at Puddleby River, if we +cared to come along—Goodness, what a chance! I’d love to go. To examine +the floor of the ocean all the way from Brazil to Europe! No man ever +did it before. What a glorious trip!—Oh that I had never allowed myself +to be made king! Now I must see the chance of a lifetime slip by.” + +He turned from us and moved down the sands again to the middle beach, +gazing wistfully, longingly out at the snail. There was something +peculiarly sad and forlorn about him as he stood there on the lonely, +moonlit shore, the crown upon his head, his figure showing sharply +black against the glittering sea behind. + +Out of the darkness at my elbow Polynesia rose and quietly moved down +to his side. + +“Now Doctor,” said she in a soft persuasive voice as though she were +talking to a wayward child, “you know this king business is not your +real work in life. These natives will be able to get along without +you—not so well as they do with you of course—but they’ll manage—the +same as they did before you came. Nobody can say you haven’t done your +duty by them. It was their fault: they made you king. Why not accept +the snail’s offer; and just drop everything now, and go? The work +you’ll do, the information you’ll carry home, will be of far more value +than what you’re doing here.” + +“Good friend,” said the Doctor turning to her sadly, “I cannot. They +would go back to their old unsanitary ways: bad water, uncooked fish, +no drainage, enteric fever and the rest.... No. I must think of their +health, their welfare. I began life as a people’s doctor: I seem to +have come back to it in the end. I cannot desert them. Later perhaps +something will turn up. But I cannot leave them now.” + +“That’s where you’re wrong, Doctor,” said she. “Now is when you should +go. Nothing will ‘turn up.’ The longer you stay, the harder it will be +to leave—Go now. Go to-night.” + +“What, steal away without even saying good-bye to them! Why, Polynesia, +what a thing to suggest!” + +“A fat chance they would give you to say good-bye!” snorted Polynesia +growing impatient at last. “I tell you, Doctor, if you go back to that +palace tonight, for goodbys or anything else, you will stay there. +Now—this moment—is the time for you to go.” + +The truth of the old parrot’s words seemed to be striking home; for +the Doctor stood silent a minute, thinking. + +“But there are the note-books,” he said presently: “I would have to go +back to fetch them.” + +“I have them here, Doctor,” said I, speaking up—“all of them.” + +Again he pondered. + +“And Long Arrow’s collection,” he said. “I would have to take that also +with me.” + +“It is here, Oh Kindly One,” came the Indian’s deep voice from the +shadow beneath the palm. + +“But what about provisions,” asked the Doctor—“food for the journey?” + +“We have a week’s supply with us, for our holiday,” said +Polynesia—“that’s more than we will need.” + +For a third time the Doctor was silent and thoughtful. + +“And then there’s my hat,” he said fretfully at last. “That settles it: +I’ll _have_ to go back to the palace. I can’t leave without my hat. How +could I appear in Puddleby with this crown on my head?” + +“Here it is, Doctor,” said Bumpo producing the hat, old, battered and +beloved, from under his coat. + +Polynesia had indeed thought of everything. + +Yet even now we could see the Doctor was still trying to think up +further excuses. + +“Oh Kindly One,” said Long Arrow, “why tempt ill fortune? Your way is +clear. Your future and your work beckon you back to your foreign home +beyond the sea. With you will go also what lore I too have gathered +for mankind—to lands where it will be of wider use than it can ever +here. I see the glimmerings of dawn in the eastern heaven. Day is at +hand. Go before your subjects are abroad. Go before your project is +discovered. For truly I believe that if you go not now you will linger +the remainder of your days a captive king in Popsipetel.” + +Great decisions often take no more than a moment in the making. Against +the now paling sky I saw the Doctor’s figure suddenly stiffen. Slowly +he lifted the Sacred Crown from off his head and laid it on the sands. + +And when he spoke his voice was choked with tears. + +“They will find it here,” he murmured, “when they come to search for +me. And they will know that I have gone.... My children, my poor +children!—I wonder will they ever understand why it was I left them.... +I wonder will they ever understand—and forgive.” + +He took his old hat from Bumpo; then facing Long Arrow, gripped his +outstretched hand in silence. + +“You decide aright, oh Kindly One,” said the Indian—“though none +will miss and mourn you more than Long Arrow, the son of Golden +Arrow—Farewell, and may good fortune ever lead you by the hand!” + +It was the first and only time I ever saw the Doctor weep. Without a +word to any of us, he turned and moved down the beach into the shallow +water of the sea. + +The snail humped up its back and made an opening between its shoulders +and the edge of its shell. The Doctor clambered up and passed within. +We followed him, after handing up the baggage. The opening shut tight +with a whistling suction noise. + +Then turning in the direction of the East, the great creature began +moving smoothly forward, down the slope into the deeper waters. + +Just as the swirling dark green surf was closing in above our heads, +the big morning sun popped his rim up over the edge of the ocean. And +through our transparent walls of pearl we saw the watery world about +us suddenly light up with that most wondrously colorful of visions, a +daybreak beneath the sea. + + * * * * * + +The rest of the story of our homeward voyage is soon told. + +Our new quarters we found very satisfactory. Inside the spacious shell, +the snail’s wide back was extremely comfortable to sit and lounge +on—better than a sofa, when you once got accustomed to the damp and +clammy feeling of it. He asked us, shortly after we started, if we +wouldn’t mind taking off our boots, as the hobnails in them hurt his +back as we ran excitedly from one side to another to see the different +sights. + +The motion was not unpleasant, very smooth and even; in fact, but for +the landscape passing outside, you would not know, on the level going, +that you were moving at all. + +I had always thought for some reason or other that the bottom of the +sea was flat. I found that it was just as irregular and changeful as +the surface of the dry land. We climbed over great mountain-ranges, +with peaks towering above peaks. We threaded our way through dense +forests of tall sea-plants. We crossed wide empty stretches of sandy +mud, like deserts—so vast that you went on for a whole day with nothing +ahead of you but a dim horizon. Sometimes the scene was moss-covered, +rolling country, green and restful to the eye like rich pastures; so +that you almost looked to see sheep cropping on these underwater downs. +And sometimes the snail would roll us forward inside him like peas, +when he suddenly dipped downward to descend into some deep secluded +valley with steeply sloping sides. + +In these lower levels we often came upon the shadowy shapes of dead +ships, wrecked and sunk Heaven only knows how many years ago; and +passing them we would speak in hushed whispers like children seeing +monuments in churches. + +Here too, in the deeper, darker waters, monstrous fishes, feeding +quietly in caves and hollows would suddenly spring up, alarmed at our +approach, and flash away into the gloom with the speed of an arrow. +While other bolder ones, all sorts of unearthly shapes and colors, +would come right up and peer in at us through the shell. + +“I suppose they think we are a sort of sanaquarium,” said Bumpo—“I’d +hate to be a fish.” + +It was a thrilling and ever-changing show. The Doctor wrote or sketched +incessantly. Before long we had filled all the blank note-books we had +left. Then we searched our pockets for any odd scraps of paper on which +to jot down still more observations. We even went through the used +books a second time, writing in between the lines, scribbling all over +the covers, back and front. + +Our greatest difficulty was getting enough light to see by. In the +lower waters it was very dim. On the third day we passed a band of +fire-eels, a sort of large, marine glow-worm; and the Doctor asked the +snail to get them to come with us for a way. This they did, swimming +alongside; and their light was very helpful, though not brilliant. + +How our giant shellfish found his way across that vast and gloomy +world was a great puzzle to us. John Dolittle asked him by what means +he navigated—how he knew he was on the right road to Puddleby River. +And what the snail said in reply got the Doctor so excited, that having +no paper left, he tore out the lining of his precious hat and covered +it with notes. + +By night of course it was impossible to see anything; and during the +hours of darkness the snail used to swim instead of crawl. When he did +so he could travel at a terrific speed, just by waggling that long tail +of his. This was the reason why we completed the trip in so short a +time—five and a half days. + +The air of our chamber, not having a change in the whole voyage, got +very close and stuffy; and for the first two days we all had headaches. +But after that we got used to it and didn’t mind it in the least. + +Early in the afternoon of the sixth day, we noticed we were climbing a +long gentle slope. As we went upward it grew lighter. Finally we saw +that the snail had crawled right out of the water altogether and had +now come to a dead stop on a long strip of gray sand. + +Behind us we saw the surface of the sea rippled by the wind. On our +left was the mouth of a river with the tide running out. While in +front, the low flat land stretched away into the mist—which prevented +one from seeing very far in any direction. A pair of wild ducks with +craning necks and whirring wings passed over us and disappeared like +shadows, seaward. + +As a landscape, it was a great change from the hot brilliant sunshine +of Popsipetel. + +With the same whistling suction sound, the snail made the opening for +us to crawl out by. As we stepped down upon the marshy land we noticed +that a fine, drizzling autumn rain was falling. + +“Can this be Merrie England?” asked Bumpo, peering into the +fog—“doesn’t look like any place in particular. Maybe the snail hasn’t +brought us right after all.” + +“Yes,” sighed Polynesia, shaking the rain off her feathers, “this is +England all right—You can tell it by the beastly climate.” + +“Oh, but fellows,” cried Jip, as he sniffed up the air in great gulps, +“it has a _smell_—a good and glorious smell!—Excuse me a minute: I see +a water-rat.” + +“Sh!—Listen!” said Chee-Chee through teeth that chattered with the +cold. “There’s Puddleby church-clock striking four. Why don’t we divide +up the baggage and get moving. We’ve got a long way to foot it home +across the marshes.” + +“Let’s hope,” I put in, “that Dab-Dab has a nice fire burning in the +kitchen.” + +“I’m sure she will,” said the Doctor as he picked out his old handbag +from among the bundles—“With this wind from the East she’ll need it to +keep the animals in the house warm. Come on. Let’s hug the river-bank +so we don’t miss our way in the fog. You know, there’s something rather +attractive in the bad weather of England—when you’ve got a kitchen-fire +to look forward to.... Four o’clock! Come along—we’ll just be in nice +time for tea.” + +[Illustration: THE END] + + * * * * * + +Transcriber’s Notes: + +Varied hyphenation retained. Obvious punctuation errors repaired. + +Page 20, “he” changed to “be” (Don’t be alarmed) + +Page 135, “shellflsh” changed to “shellfish” (of the shellfish) + +Page 137, “way” changed to “may” (come what may) + +Page 188, Part Four, _THE FIRST CHAPTER_ made italic to match rest of +usage. + +Page 218, “is” changed to “it” (where it is) + +Page 249, “musn’t” changed to “mustn’t” (that he musn’t give) + +Page 324, “Polnesia” changed to “Polynesia” (whispered Polynesia) + +Page 347, “thoroughy” changed to “thoroughly” (thoroughly interested in) + +Page 357, “Poynesia” changed to “Polynesia” (said Polynesia—“that’s +more) + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Voyages of Dr. Dolittle, by Hugh Lofting + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1154 *** |