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diff --git a/1154-h/1154-h.htm b/1154-h/1154-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1445ae7 --- /dev/null +++ b/1154-h/1154-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12491 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle, by Hugh Lofting. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + .faux { + font-size: 0.5em; /*this font size could be anything */ + visibility: hidden;} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + + + .maintitle {font-size: 200%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%; text-indent: 0;} + div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} + + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; text-indent: 0;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%} +hr.full {width: 95%;} + + +/* Poetry */ +.poetry-container +{ + text-align: center; +} + +.poetry +{ + display: inline-block; + text-align: left; +} + +.poetry .stanza +{ + margin: 1em auto; +} + +.poetry .verse +{ + text-indent: -3em; + padding-left: 3em; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + text-indent: 0;} /* page numbers */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} +.right {text-align: right; text-indent: 0; font-size: 90%;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%; text-indent: 0;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + + +/*Drop caps*/ +.drop-cap { + text-indent: 0em; + text-align: justify; +} +.drop-cap:first-letter +{ + float: left; + margin: 0.15em 0.1em 0em 0em; + font-size: 250%; + line-height:0.5em; +} + +@media handheld +{ + .chapter + { + page-break-before: always; + } + + h2.no-break + { + page-break-before: avoid; + padding-top: 0; + } + + .poetry + { + display: block; + margin-left: 1.5em; + } + .drop-cap:first-letter + { + float: none; + margin: 0; + font-size: 100%; + } + +} + + + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1154 ***</div> + +<h1 class="faux"><i>THE VOYAGES OF DOCTOR DOLITTLE</i></h1> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 513px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="513" height="800" alt="cover" /> +</div> +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class="maintitle"><i>THE VOYAGES OF DOCTOR DOLITTLE</i></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 374px;"> +<img src="images/i-004.jpg" width="374" height="600" alt="THE POPSIPETEL PICTURE-HISTORY OF KING JONG THINKALOT" /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 360px;"><a id="Frontispiece"></a> +<img src="images/i-004-withoverlay.jpg" width="360" height="600" alt="Image with tissue paper overlay" /> +<div class="tnote"><small>Transcriber's note: Image with tissue paper overlay</small></div> +</div> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="captions"> +<tr> +<td align="center">I<br /> +HIS LANDING<br /> +ON THE<br /> +ISLAND</td> +<td align="center">II<br /> +HIS MEETING<br /> +WITH THE<br /> +BEETLE</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="center">III<br /> +HE LIBERATES<br /> +THE LOST<br /> +FAMILIES</td> +<td align="center">IV<br /> +HE MAKES<br /> +FIRE</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="center">V<br /> +HE LEADS THE<br /> +PEOPLE TO<br /> +VICTORY IN<br /> +WAR</td> +<td align="center">VI<br /> +HE IS<br /> +CROWNED<br /> +KING</td> +</tr> + +</table></div> +<div class="center"> +<br /> +<big>THE<br /> +POPSIPETEL<br /> +PICTURE-HISTORY OF<br /> +KING JONG THINKALOT</big></div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a><br /><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 514px;"> +<img src="images/title.jpg" width="514" height="800" alt="title page" /> +</div> + +<div class="maintitle"> +<i>The</i> VOYAGES <i>of</i><br /> +DOCTOR DOLITTLE</div> +<div class="center"><br /> +ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR<br /> +<br /> +BY HUGH LOFTING<br /> +<br /> +<i>Published by<br /> +FREDK. A. STOKES Co.<br /> +at 443 Fourth Avenue New York A.D. 1922</i><br /> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class="copyright"> +<i>Copyright, 1922, by</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">Frederick A. Stokes Company</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>All rights reserved, including that of translation<br /> +into foreign languages</i><br /> +<br /> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="publishing dates"> +<tr> +<td align="left">First Printing,</td> +<td align="left">August 18, 1922</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Second Printing,</td> +<td align="left">November 10, 1922</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Third Printing,</td> +<td align="left">February 28, 1923</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Fourth Printing,</td> +<td align="left">June 20, 1923</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Fifth Printing,</td> +<td align="left">August 16, 1923</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Sixth Printing,</td> +<td align="left">November 30, 1923</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Seventh Printing,</td> +<td align="left">April 18, 1925</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Eighth Printing,</td> +<td align="left">March 19, 1926</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Ninth Printing,</td> +<td align="left">July 30, 1927</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Tenth Printing,</td> +<td align="left">April 11, 1928</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Eleventh Printing,</td> +<td align="left">June 19, 1929</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Twelfth Printing,</td> +<td align="left">September 12, 1930</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Thirteenth Printing,</td> +<td align="left">August 10, 1931</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Fourteenth Printing, </td> +<td align="left">September 1, 1933</td> +</tr> + +</table> +</div> +<br /> +<i>Printed in the United States of America</i><br /> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class="center"> +<i>To<br /> +Colin<br /> +and<br /> +Elizabeth</i><br /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a><br /><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>CONTENTS</i></h2> + + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr> +<td align="center" colspan="3">PART ONE</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left" colspan="2"><small>CHAPTER</small></td> +<td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right"> </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Prologue</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">I </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Cobbler’s Son</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">II </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">I Hear of the Great Naturalist</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_8">8</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">III </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Doctor’s Home</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IV </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Wiff-Waff</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">V </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Polynesia</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VI </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Wounded Squirrel</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VII </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Shellfish Talk</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VIII </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Are You a Good Noticer?</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IX </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Garden of Dreams</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">X </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Private Zoo</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XI </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">My Schoolmaster, Polynesia</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XII </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">My Great Idea</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XIII </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Traveler Arrives</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XIV </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Chee-Chee’s Voyage</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XV </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">I Become a Doctor’s Assistant</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right"> </td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="center" colspan="3">PART TWO</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">I </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Crew of “The Curlew”</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">II </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Luke the Hermit</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">III </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Jip and the Secret</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IV </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Bob</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">V </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Mendoza</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VI </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Judge’s Dog</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VII </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The End of the Mystery</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VIII </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Three Cheers</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IX </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Purple Bird-of-Paradise</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_126">126</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">X </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Long Arrow, the Son of Golden Arrow</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XI </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Blind Travel</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_135">135</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XII </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Destiny and Destination</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_140">140</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right"> </td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="center" colspan="3">PART THREE</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">I </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Third Man</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">II </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Good-Bye!</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">III </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Our Troubles Begin</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IV </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Our Troubles Continue</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">V </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Polynesia Has a Plan</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_167">167</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VI </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Bed-Maker of Monteverde</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VII </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Doctor’s Wager</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_177">177</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VIII </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Great Bullfight</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IX </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">We Depart in a Hurry</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right"> </td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="center" colspan="3">PART FOUR</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">I </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Shellfish Languages Again</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">II </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Fidgit’s Story</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">III </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Bad Weather</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IV </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Wrecked!</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">V </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Land!</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VI </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Jabizri</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VII </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Hawk’s-Head Mountain</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_245">245</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right"> </td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="center" colspan="3">PART FIVE</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">I </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Great Moment</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_253">253</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">II </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">“The Men of the Moving Land”</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_262">262</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">III </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Fire</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_266">266</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IV </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">What Makes an Island Float</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_271">271</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">V </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">War!</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_275">275</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VI </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">General Polynesia</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_282">282</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VII </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Peace of the Parrots</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VIII </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Hanging Stone</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_291">291</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IX </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Election</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_300">300</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">X </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Coronation of King Jong</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_308">308</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right"> </td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="center" colspan="3">PART SIX</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">I </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">New Popsipetel</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_314">314</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">II </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Thoughts of Home</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_322">322</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">III </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Red Man’s Science</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_328">328</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IV </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Sea-Serpent</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_332">332</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">V </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Shellfish Riddle Solved at Last</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_340">340</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VI </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Last Cabinet Meeting</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_346">346</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VII </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Doctor’s Decision</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_350">350</a></td> +</tr> + +</table></div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a><br /><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>ILLUSTRATIONS</i></h2> + + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr> +<td align="left">The Popsipetel Picture-History of King Jong Thinkalot (in colors)</td> +<td align="right"><i><a href="#Frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"> </td> +<td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“I would sit on the river-wall with my feet dangling over the water”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“And in her right foot she carried a lighted candle!”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“‘Being a good noticer is terribly important’”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">A traveler arrives</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“On the bed sat the Hermit”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“Sat scowling down upon the amazed and gaping jury”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“‘What else can I think?’”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“‘Boy, where’s the skipper?’”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“In these lower levels we came upon the shadowy shapes of dead ships” (in colors)</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“The Doctor started chatting in Spanish to the bed-maker”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“Did acrobatics on the beast’s horns”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“‘He talks English!’”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_201">201</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“I was alone in the ocean!”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“It was a great moment”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">The Terrible Three</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_279">279</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span>“Working away with their noses against the end of the island”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_293">293</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“The Whispering Rocks”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_295">295</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“Had to chase his butterflies with a crown upon his head”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_317">317</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">“‘Tiptoe incognito,’ whispered Bumpo”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_353">353</a></td> +</tr> + +</table></div> + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</a></span></p> +<h2><i>THE VOYAGES OF DOCTOR DOLITTLE</i></h2> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class="maintitle">THE VOYAGES OF<br /> +DOCTOR DOLITTLE</div> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2>PROLOGUE</h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>PART I</h2> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2><i>THE FIRST CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE COBBLER’S SON</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a><br /><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +would see the lights on Kingsbridge twinkle in the +dusk, reminding us of tea-time and warm fires.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/i-023.jpg" width="400" height="600" alt="boy sitting on fiver wall" /> +<div class="caption">“I would sit on the river-wall with my feet dangling +over the water”</div> +</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>My third great friend was Luke the Hermit. +But of him I will tell you more later on.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SECOND CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>I HEAR OF THE GREAT NATURALIST</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Who is John Dolittle?” I asked. “Is he a +vet?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the mussel-man. “He’s no vet. +Doctor Dolittle is a nacheralist.”</p> + +<p>“What’s a nacheralist?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Where does he live?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>So I thanked the mussel-man, took up my squirrel +again and started off towards the Oxenthorpe Road.</p> + +<p>The first thing I heard as I came into the market-place +was some one calling “Meat! M-E-A-T!”</p> + +<p>“There’s Matthew Mugg,” I said to myself. +“He’ll know where this Doctor lives. Matthew +knows everyone.”</p> + +<p>So I hurried across the market-place and caught +him up.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Matthew,” I said, “do you know Doctor Dolittle?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Can you show me where he lives?” I asked. “I +want to take this squirrel to him. It has a broken +leg.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” said the cat’s-meat-man. “I’ll be +going right by his house directly. Come along and +I’ll show you.”</p> + +<p>So off we went together.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Where did the Doctor go to on this voyage?” +I asked as Matthew handed round the meat to them.</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t tell you,” he answered. “Nobody +never knows where he goes, nor when he’s going,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“How did he get to know so much about animals?” +I asked.</p> + +<p>The cat’s-meat-man stopped and leant down to +whisper in my ear.</p> + +<p>“<i>He talks their language</i>,” he said in a hoarse, +mysterious voice.</p> + +<p>“The animals’ language?” I cried.</p> + +<p>“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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“He certainly must be,” I said. “I do wish he +were home so I could meet him.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>“The Doctor isn’t back yet,” said Matthew, “or +the gate wouldn’t be locked.”</p> + +<p>“What were all those things in paper-bags you +gave the dog?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“And what was that curious collar he was wearing +round his neck?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“How long has the Doctor had him?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE THIRD CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE DOCTOR’S HOME</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +bun and a glass of milk. And I said, “Yes, please.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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 <i>the time</i>!” And he +went stumping down the street, grunting harder +than ever.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +very kind face. He wore a shabby high hat and +in his hand he had a small black bag.</p> + +<p>“I’m very sorry,” I said. “I had my head down +and I didn’t see you coming.”</p> + +<p>To my great surprise, instead of getting angry at +being knocked down, the little man began to laugh.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“No,” I said. “I’m all right.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“My home is on the other side of the town,” I +said, as we picked ourselves up.</p> + +<p>“My Goodness, but that <i>was</i> 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.”</p> + +<p>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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>“Here we are,” he said.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Surely,” I thought, “this cannot be the great +Doctor Dolittle himself!”</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>The dog, Jip, came rushing out and started jumping +up on him and barking with happiness. The +rain was splashing down heavier than ever.</p> + +<p>“Are you Doctor Dolittle?” I shouted as we sped +up the short garden-path to the house.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> + +<p>I popped in, he and Jip following. Then he +slammed the door to behind us.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +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:</p> + +<p>“My blessed matches are all wet. They won’t +strike. Have you got any?”</p> + +<p>“No, I’m afraid I haven’t,” I called back.</p> + +<p>“Never mind,” said he. “Perhaps Dab-Dab can +raise us a light somewhere.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Then we waited quite a while without anything +happening.</p> + +<p>“Will the light be long in coming?” I asked. +“Some animal is sitting on my foot and my toes are +going to sleep.”</p> + +<p>“No, only a minute,” said the Doctor. “She’ll +be back in a minute.”</p> + +<p>And just then I saw the first glimmerings of a +light around the landing above. At once all the +animals kept quiet.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 372px;"> +<img src="images/i-040.jpg" width="372" height="600" alt="Duck on stairs" /> +<div class="caption">“And in her right foot she carried a lighted candle!”</div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I thought you lived alone,” I said to the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“So I do,” said he. “It is Dab-Dab who is +bringing the light.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>As the light came lower, it grew brighter and +began to throw strange jumping shadows on the +walls.</p> + +<p>“Ah—at last!” said the Doctor. “Good old +Dab-Dab!”</p> + +<p>And then I thought I <i>really</i> 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!</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FOURTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE WIFF-WAFF</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>The Doctor took the candlestick from the duck +and turned to me.</p> + +<p>“Look here,” he said: “you must get those +wet clothes off—by the way, what is your name?”</p> + +<p>“Tommy Stubbins,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Oh, are you the son of Jacob Stubbins, the shoemaker?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I said.</p> + +<p>“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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Now let’s cook some supper,” said the Doctor.—“You’ll +stay and have supper with me, Stubbins, +of course?”</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +not told my mother that I would be out late. So +very sadly I answered,</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“I think it is still in the hall,” I said. “I’ll go +and see.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” said the Doctor when I brought it +to him.</p> + +<p>“Was that bag all the luggage you had for your +voyage?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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 +<i>did</i> I put those sausages?”</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>“Now,” he said, “all we want is a frying-pan.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“What is this animal?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Oh that,” said the Doctor, turning round—“that’s +a Wiff-Waff. Its full name is <i>hippocampus +pippitopitus</i>. But the natives just call it a Wiff-Waff—on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +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 <i>have</i> 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.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“But couldn’t some of the other animals tell you +as well?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Have you learned any shellfish language yet?” +I asked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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 <i>look</i> very +intelligent, does he?”</p> + +<p>“No, he doesn’t,” I agreed.</p> + +<p>“Ah,” said the Doctor. “The sausages are done +to a turn. Come along—hold your plate near and +let me give you some.”</p> + +<p>Then we sat down at the kitchen-table and started +a hearty meal.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Can you talk in squirrel language?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Come along,” he said. “The rain has stopped +now.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FIFTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>POLYNESIA</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">“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?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” said the Doctor. “Come any day +you like. To-morrow I’ll show you the garden and +my private zoo.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, have you a zoo?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Who is Polynesia?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Polynesia was a West African parrot I had. +She isn’t with me any more now,” said the Doctor +sadly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Why—is she dead?”</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Polynesia has come back!” he cried. “Imagine +it. Jip says she has just arrived at the house.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +My! And it’s five years since I saw her—Excuse +me a minute.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The parrot, on the Doctor’s shoulder, nodded +gravely towards me and then, to my great surprise, +said quite plainly in English,</p> + +<p>“How do you do? I remember the night you +were born. It was a terribly cold winter. You +were a very ugly baby.”</p> + +<p>“Stubbins is anxious to learn animal language,” +said the Doctor. “I was just telling him about you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +and the lessons you gave me when Jip ran up and +told us you had arrived.”</p> + +<p>“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>I</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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“How is Prince Bumpo getting on?” asked the +Doctor.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m glad you asked me,” said Polynesia. +“I almost forgot to tell you. What do you think?—<i>Bumpo +is in England!</i>”</p> + +<p>“In England!—You don’t say!” cried the Doctor. +“What on earth is he doing here?”</p> + +<p>“His father, the king, sent him here to a place +called—er—Bullford, I think it was—to study +lessons.”</p> + +<p>“Bullford!—Bullford!” muttered the Doctor. +“I never heard of the place—Oh, you mean Oxford.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well,” murmured the Doctor. “Fancy +Bumpo studying at Oxford—Well, well!”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know if he ever went back in search of +The Sleeping Beauty?” asked the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“And The Sleeping Beauty?—did he ever find +her?”</p> + +<p>“Well, he brought back something which he <i>said</i> +was The Sleeping Beauty. Myself, I think it was +an albino niggeress. She had red hair and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +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<i>pah</i>—you accent the +last syllable.”</p> + +<p>“And tell me, did he remain white?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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 <i>is</i> 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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +one another in the storm and I insisted on his coming +into my house for shelter.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t mention it—don’t mention it,” said +the Doctor. “We have had a very interesting +chat.”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“The Doctor has come to cure my squirrel, +Mother,” said I. “He knows all about animals.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” said the Doctor, “not all, Stubbins, +not all about them by any means.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Is he?” said the Doctor. “Perhaps he will +grow up to be a naturalist some day. Who +knows?”</p> + +<p>“Won’t you come in?” asked my mother. “The +place is a little untidy because I haven’t finished<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +the spring cleaning yet. But there’s a nice fire +burning in the parlor.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you!” said the Doctor. “What a +charming home you have!”</p> + +<p>And after wiping his enormous boots very, very +carefully on the mat, the great man passed into +the house.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SIXTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE WOUNDED SQUIRREL</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">INSIDE we found my father busy practising +on the flute beside the fire. This he always +did, every evening, after his work was over.</p> + +<p>The Doctor immediately began talking to +him about flutes and piccolos and bassoons; and +presently my father said,</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you perform upon the flute yourself, +Sir. Won’t you play us a tune?”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said the Doctor, “it is a long time since +I touched the instrument. But I would like to try. +May I?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Oh I think that was just beautiful!” sighed my +mother when at length the Doctor stopped.</p> + +<p>“You are a great musician, Sir,” said my father,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +“a very great musician. Won’t you please play +us something else?”</p> + +<p>“Why certainly,” said the Doctor—“Oh, but +look here, I’ve forgotten all about the squirrel.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll show him to you,” I said. “He is upstairs +in my room.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>Then we went back again to the parlor and my +mother and father kept him playing the flute till +after ten o’clock.</p> + +<p>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: “<span class="smcap">JOHN DOLITTLE, THE FAMOUS +NATURALIST, PLAYED THE FLUTE IN THIS HOUSE +IN THE YEAR 1839</span>.”</p> + +<p>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;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SEVENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>SHELLFISH TALK</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>As I turned to the left to go down a path between +some hedges, I heard a voice quite close to +me say,</p> + +<p>“Good morning. How early you are!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>I turned around, and there, sitting on the top +of a privet hedge, was the gray parrot, Polynesia.</p> + +<p>“Good morning,” I said. “I suppose I am rather +early. Is the Doctor still in bed?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll go and look for +him.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” I said. “Didn’t you find that he has +any language at all?”</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>“I suppose,” said I, “that means he hasn’t very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +much sense—if his language is only two or three +words?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps some kind of a bigger shellfish would +talk more,” I said. “After all, he is very small, +isn’t he?”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>I told the Doctor that I had forgotten all about +it and he at once led the way into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +sea, and live there a while, he would discover some +wonderful things—things that people have never +dreamed of.”</p> + +<p>“But men do go down, don’t they?” I asked—“divers +and people like that?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE EIGHTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>ARE YOU A GOOD NOTICER?</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>“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 <i>so</i> 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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +He never refuses to see them if there is +anything really wrong with them. He says the +urgent cases must be seen at once.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t some of the animals go and see the +other doctors?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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 <i>are</i> 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.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think I would ever be able to learn +the language of the animals?” I asked, laying the +plate upon the hearth.</p> + +<p>“Well, it all depends,” said Polynesia. “Are +you clever at lessons?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said the parrot, “I don’t suppose you +have really missed much—to judge from what <i>I</i> +have seen of school-boys. But listen: are you a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +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?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve never tried.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“It sounds pretty hard,” I said.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a><br /><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 401px;"> +<img src="images/i-071.jpg" width="401" height="550" alt="Doctor, boy, et al. at tea" /> +<div class="caption">“‘Being a good noticer is terribly important’”</div> +</div> + +<p>“Oh, I’d love that!” I cried. “Do you think the +Doctor would let me?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE NINTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE GARDEN OF DREAMS</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Why do all these animals come and live here?” +I asked. “I never saw a garden with so many +creatures in it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I suppose it’s because they get the kind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“Are all these birds from the country round +here?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE TENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE PRIVATE ZOO</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Haven’t the doors any locks on them?” I asked +the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“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 <i>in</i> any time they want +to get away from the annoyance of other animals +or from people who might come here. Every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +animal in this zoo stays here because he likes it, +not because he is made to.”</p> + +<p>“They all look very happy and clean,” I said. +“Would you mind telling me the names of some of +them?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Are those deer over there?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“<i>Deer!</i>” said the Doctor. “Where do you +mean?”</p> + +<p>“Over there,” I said, pointing—“nibbling the +grass border of the bed. There are two of them.”</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +head at a time, you see—very handy—the other +head stays awake all night.”</p> + +<p>“Have you any lions or tigers?” I asked as we +moved on.</p> + +<p>“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 <i>these</i>? +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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +the Big Hunters, should never, never be seen in +zoos.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“But we haven’t seen the butterfly-houses yet—nor +the aquariums. Come along. I am very +proud of my butterfly-houses.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Do butterflies have a language?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>At that moment Polynesia joined us and said, +“Doctor, there are two guinea-pigs at the back<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>MY SCHOOLMASTER, POLYNESIA</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>This afternoon Polynesia was showing me the +books about animals which John Dolittle had written +himself.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Only a little,” said she. “Be careful how you +turn those pages—don’t tear them. No, I really<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +don’t get time enough for reading—much. That +letter there is a <i>k</i> and this is a <i>b</i>.”</p> + +<p>“What does this word under the picture mean?” +I asked.</p> + +<p>“Let me see,” she said, and started spelling it out. +“<span class="smcap">B-A-B-O-O-N</span>—that’s <i>Monkey</i>. Reading isn’t nearly +as hard as it looks, once you know the letters.”</p> + +<p>“Polynesia,” I said, “I want to ask you something +very important.”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“You mean you want to be a proper assistant to +the Doctor, is that it?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Well”—she thought a moment—“I really<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +don’t see why not. But is this what you want to +be when you grow up, a naturalist?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I said, “I have made up my mind. I +would sooner be a naturalist than anything else in +the world.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“What <i>is</i> the Doctor doing?” I asked Polynesia +in a whisper.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +back—to judge from the dog’s excitement. Just +look at him carrying on!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE TWELFTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>MY GREAT IDEA</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">PRESENTLY the Doctor looked up and +saw us at the door.</p> + +<p>“Oh—come in, Stubbins,” said he, “did +you wish to speak to me? Come in and +take a chair.”</p> + +<p>“Doctor,” I said, “I want to be a naturalist—like +you—when I grow up.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +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?”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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 <i>A B C</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Who is he?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Have you ever seen him?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“How do you know so much about him?” I +asked—“if you’ve never even seen him?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said I, “my mind is made up.”</p> + +<p>“Well you know, it isn’t a very good profession<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +for making money. Not at all, it isn’t. Most of +the good naturalists don’t make any money whatever. +All they do is <i>spend</i> 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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I see,” said he, smiling. “So you want to +come on a voyage with me, do you?—Ah hah!”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At last he shrugged his shoulders and stood up.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +mother and father my compliments and thank them +for their invitation, will you?”</p> + +<p>Then I tore home like the wind to tell my mother +that the Doctor had promised to come.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE THIRTEENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>A TRAVELER ARRIVES</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +school-children following a very ragged, curious-looking +woman.</p> + +<p>“What in the world can it be?” cried Dab-Dab.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Then all of a sudden Dab-Dab at my side startled +me by crying out in a loud voice,</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a><br /><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 435px;"> +<img src="images/i-095.jpg" width="435" height="550" alt="Chimpanzee dressed as lady trying to get to Puddleby" /> +<div class="caption">A traveler arrives</div> +</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Presently I heard a screech from the house, and +out flew Polynesia, followed by the Doctor and Jip.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +Chee-Chee hasn’t had a banana, he tells me, +in two months.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FOURTEENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>CHEE-CHEE’S VOYAGE</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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!”</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>When Chee-Chee had finished his story he ate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +six bananas without stopping and drank a whole +bowlful of milk.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +over him, and in a minute he was snoring peacefully.</p> + +<p>“Good old Chee-Chee!” whispered the Doctor. +“I’m glad he’s back.”</p> + +<p>“Yes—good old Chee-Chee!” echoed Dab-Dab +and Polynesia.</p> + +<p>Then we all tip-toed out of the scullery and +closed the door very gently behind us.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FIFTEENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>I BECOME A DOCTOR’S ASSISTANT</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>At last we heard a knock upon the door, and of +course it was I who got there first to let him in.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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,</p> + +<p>“Your son tells me that he is anxious to become +a naturalist.”</p> + +<p>And then began a long talk which lasted far into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +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,</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“You are very good, Doctor,” said my mother, +drying her tears. “It seems to me that Tommy is +a very fortunate boy.”</p> + +<p>And then, thoughtless, selfish little imp that I +was, I leaned over and whispered in the Doctor’s +ear,</p> + +<p>“Please don’t forget to say something about the +voyages.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>My poor mother looked up sharply, more unhappy +and anxious than ever at this new turn;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +while I stood behind the Doctor’s chair, my heart +thumping with excitement, waiting for my father’s +answer.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 177px;"> +<img src="images/decoration.jpg" width="177" height="21" alt="decoration" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>PART TWO</h2> +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2><i>THE FIRST CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE CREW OF “THE CURLEW”</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +of crabs and all the lobster family. I think I’ll +leave it for the present and go at it again later on.”</p> + +<p>“What will you turn to now?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“When shall we start?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed,” said the Doctor. “Suppose we +go down and see your friend Joe, the mussel-man. +He will know about boats.”</p> + +<p>“I’d like to come too,” said Jip.</p> + +<p>“All right, come along,” said the Doctor, and +off we went.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +Curlew</i>. Joe said he would sell her to us cheap. +But the trouble was that the boat needed three +people, while we were only two.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“I know of a good sailor, Doctor,” said Joe—“a +first-class seaman who would be glad of the job.”</p> + +<p>“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 <i>my</i> +way—Now let me see: who could we take with us?”</p> + +<p>“There’s Matthew Mugg, the cat’s-meat-man,” +I said.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“How about Luke the Hermit?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“That’s a good idea—splendid—if he’ll come. +Let’s go and ask him right away.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SECOND CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>LUKE THE HERMIT</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>This afternoon, crossing the marshes we faced +a cold wind blowing from the East. As we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +approached the hut Jip put up his ears and said,</p> + +<p>“That’s funny!”</p> + +<p>“What’s funny?” asked the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“That Bob hasn’t come out to meet us. He +should have heard us long ago—or smelt us. +What’s that queer noise?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>We hurried forward, all three of us thinking +hard.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t Luke at home then?” said I. “Perhaps +he’s out for a walk.”</p> + +<p>“He is <i>always</i> 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?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Nothing much—nothing worth speaking of,” +said Jip examining the floor of the hut extremely +carefully.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Jip looking very guilty and +uncomfortable. “I don’t know where he is.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you know something. I can tell it from +the look in your eye. What is it?”</p> + +<p>But Jip didn’t answer.</p> + +<p>For ten minutes the Doctor kept questioning +him. But not a word would the dog say.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>As we buttoned up our coats and started back +across the marsh, Jip ran ahead pretending he was +looking for water-rats.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Do you mean you think he knows all about the +Hermit, the big mystery about him which folks +hint at and all that?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“So did I,” I said. “He was there a moment +ago. I saw him as large as life. Jip—Jip—Jip—<span class="smcap">JIP</span>!”</p> + +<p>But he was gone. We called and called. We +even walked back to the hut. But Jip had disappeared.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>But the Doctor just closed his coat-collar tighter +against the wind and strode on muttering, “Odd—very +odd!”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE THIRD CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>JIP AND THE SECRET</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">WHEN we reached the house the first +question the Doctor asked of Dab-Dab +in the hall was,</p> + +<p>“Is Jip home yet?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Dab-Dab, “I haven’t seen him.”</p> + +<p>“Let me know the moment he comes in, will you, +please?” said the Doctor, hanging up his hat.</p> + +<p>“Certainly I will,” said Dab-Dab. “Don’t be +long over washing your hands; the lunch is on the +table.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> + +<p>“It’s all right,” said the Doctor. “Nobody can +hear you here. Now what is it?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” asked the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Well, and are you going to tell me now?”</p> + +<p>“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—’”</p> + +<p>“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 <i>is</i> the Hermit?”</p> + +<p>“He’s in Puddleby Jail,” said Jip. “He’s in +prison.”</p> + +<p>“In prison!”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“What for?—What’s he done?”</p> + +<p>Jip went over to the door and smelt at the bottom +of it to see if any one were listening outside.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +Then he came back to the Doctor on tiptoe and +whispered,</p> + +<p>“<i>He killed a man!</i>”</p> + +<p>“Lord preserve us!” cried the Doctor, sitting +down heavily in a chair and mopping his forehead +with a handkerchief. “When did he do it?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well!” murmured the Doctor. “Who +would have thought it?—Luke, the philosopher!—Killed +a man!—I can hardly believe it.”</p> + +<p>“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 <i>had</i> to do it.”</p> + +<p>“Where is Bob now?” asked the Doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“It’s ten minutes past one.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“And yet—I wonder—”</p> + +<p>Then he opened the door and passed out with +Jip and me close at his heels.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FOURTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>BOB</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>When we got to Puddleby Court-house (it was +next door to the prison), we found a great crowd +gathered around the building.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“I want to see Luke,” said the Doctor to a very +grand person in a blue coat with brass buttons +standing at the door.</p> + +<p>“Ask at the Superintendent’s office,” said the +man. “Third door on the left down the corridor.”</p> + +<p>“Who is that person you spoke to, Doctor?” +I asked as we went along the passage.</p> + +<p>“He is a policeman.”</p> + +<p>“And what are policemen?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 336px;"> +<img src="images/i-119.jpg" width="336" height="550" alt="Visiting the Hermit in Jail" /> +<div class="caption">“On the bed sat the Hermit”</div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> + +<p>From there another policeman was sent with us +to show us the way.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Well, Luke,” said the Doctor in a kindly voice, +“they don’t give you much light in here, do they?”</p> + +<p>Very slowly the Hermit looked up from the +floor.</p> + +<p>“Hulloa, John Dolittle. What brings you here?”</p> + +<p>“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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +I’ve come to see if there is anything I can do.”</p> + +<p>Luke shook his head.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>He got up stiffly and started walking up and +down the little room.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At last the Doctor said he wanted to see Bob; and +we knocked upon the door and were let out by the +policeman.</p> + +<p>“Bob,” said the Doctor to the big bulldog in the +passage, “come out with me into the porch. I +want to ask you something.”</p> + +<p>“How is he, Doctor?” asked Bob as we walked +down the corridor into the Court-house porch.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“I was, Doctor,” said Bob, “and I tell you—”</p> + +<p>“All right,” the Doctor interrupted, “that’s +all I want to know for the present. There isn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FIFTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>MENDOZA</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +stay with you. Keep an eye on him—better hold +on to his collar. I shan’t be more than a minute +or so.”</p> + +<p>With that the Doctor disappeared into the crowd +which filled the main part of the room.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>“<i>Biz—biz—biz—biz—biz</i>—otherwise known as +Luke the Hermit, of—<i>biz—biz—biz—biz</i>—for +killing his partner with—<i>biz—biz—biz</i>—otherwise +known as Bluebeard Bill on the night of the—<i>biz—biz—biz</i>—in +the <i>biz—biz—biz</i>—of Mexico. +Therefore Her Majesty’s—<i>biz—biz—biz</i>—”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I think it is a perfectly precious idea,” he +was saying. “Of <i>course</i> 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!”</p> + +<p>He put his hand over his mouth to smother a +laugh and his eyes fairly sparkled with mischief.</p> + +<p>“Who is Conkey?” I asked the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“Sh! He is speaking of the judge up there, the +Honorable Eustace Beauchamp Conckley.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>I could not hear any more for they talked in +whispers; and I fell to looking round the court +again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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,</p> + +<p>“It’s a lie! It’s a lie! I’ll chew his face. It’s +a lie!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> + +<p>And both the Doctor and I had hard work keeping +the dog under the seat.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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,</p> + +<p>“And you are prepared to swear, Doctor Dolittle, +that you understand the language of dogs and can +make them understand you. Is that so?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the Doctor, “that is so.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SIXTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE JUDGE’S DOG</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>Presently up sprang the nasty lawyer with the +long nose.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“I am the one to take care of the dignity of this +court,” said the judge.</p> + +<p>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).</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>I thought I saw a twinkle of amusement come into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +the old judge’s eyes as he sat considering a moment +before he answered.</p> + +<p>“No,” he said at last, “I don’t think so.” Then +he turned to the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“Are you quite sure you can do this?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Quite, Your Honor,” said the Doctor—“quite +sure.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“I protest, I protest!” yelled the long-nosed +Prosecutor. “This is a scandal, an outrage to the +Bar!”</p> + +<p>“Sit down!” said the judge in a very stern voice.</p> + +<p>“What animal does Your Honor wish me to +talk with?” asked the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Now, Doctor,” said the judge, “did you ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +see this dog before?—Remember you are in the +witness-stand and under oath.”</p> + +<p>“No, Your Honor, I never saw him before.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Haven’t you finished yet?” the judge asked the +Doctor. “It shouldn’t take that long just to ask +what I had for supper.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind that,” said the judge. “Tell me +what answer he gave you to my question.”</p> + +<p>“He says you had a mutton-chop, two baked potatoes, +a pickled walnut and a glass of ale.”</p> + +<p>The Honorable Eustace Beauchamp Conckley +went white to the lips.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Sounds like witchcraft,” he muttered. “I +never dreamed—”</p> + +<p>“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—’”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“I protest, I object!” screamed the Prosecutor. +“Your Honor, this is—”</p> + +<p>“Sit down!” roared the judge. “I say the dog +shall be heard. That ends the matter. Put the +witness in the stand.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 403px;"> +<img src="images/i-133.jpg" width="403" height="550" alt="In court" /> +<div class="caption">“Sat scowling down upon the amazed and gaping jury”</div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SEVENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE END OF THE MYSTERY</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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:</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +them arrange together to kill Luke the Hermit so +that they should get all the gold and he have none.”</p> + +<p>At this point the judge asked, “Where is the witness +Mendoza? Constable, see that he does not +leave the court.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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 bucket<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>ful +of gold. So he drew a pistol from his pocket +and came sneaking up behind Luke to shoot him.</p> + +<p>“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, <i>Crash!</i> down went +Bill in his bucket to the bottom of the mine and he +was killed.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“‘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.</p> + +<p>“And soon my master grew afraid; for he saw +that if Mendoza only told enough lies to the police, +it <i>would</i> 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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>In the middle of all this up got that horrible +Prosecutor again, waving his arms more wildly than +ever.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +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!”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE EIGHTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THREE CHEERS</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>“What have the jurymen gone out for?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“They always do that at the end of a trial—to +make up their minds whether the prisoner did it or +not.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t you and Bob go in with them and help +them make up their minds the right way?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +of Puddleby in fact, waited with craning necks and +straining ears to hear the weighty words.</p> + +<p>“Your Honor,” said the little man, “the jury +returns a verdict of <i>Not Guilty</i>.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that mean?” I asked, turning to the +Doctor.</p> + +<p>But I found Doctor John Dolittle, the famous +naturalist, standing on top of a chair, dancing about +on one leg like a schoolboy.</p> + +<p>“It means he’s free!” he cried, “Luke is free!”</p> + +<p>“Then he’ll be able to come on the voyage with +us, won’t he?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Luke!” she cried, “I’ve found you at last!”</p> + +<p>“It’s his wife,” the fat woman in front of me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +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!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Come along, Stubbins,” said the Doctor, taking +me by the arm, “let’s get out of this while we +can.”</p> + +<p>“But aren’t you going to speak to Luke?” I said—“to +ask him if he’ll come on the voyage?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Just as we were going to step out at a side door +I heard the crowd shouting,</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>And a man came running up to us and said,</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> + +<p>“The people are calling for you, Sir.”</p> + +<p>“I’m very sorry,” said the Doctor, “but I’m in +a hurry.”</p> + +<p>“The crowd won’t be denied, Sir,” said the man. +“They want you to make a speech in the market-place.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>We took to our heels, darted through a couple +of side streets and just managed to get away from +the crowd.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“They’re still clamoring for you,” I said. “Listen!”</p> + +<p>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,</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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! <span class="smcap">HOO-R-A-Y!</span>”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE NINTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE PURPLE BIRD-OF-PARADISE</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">POLYNESIA was waiting for us in the front +porch. She looked full of some important +news.</p> + +<p>“Doctor,” said she, “the Purple Bird-of-Paradise +has arrived!”</p> + +<p>“At last!” said the Doctor. “I had begun to +fear some accident had befallen her. And how is +Miranda?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Oh, she seemed all right when she arrived,” +said Polynesia—“tired from her long journey of +course but otherwise all right. But what <i>do</i> 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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Doctor frowned, then walked silently and +quickly to the study.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“We’ll come into the kitchen, Dab-Dab,” said +the Doctor. “Let Cheapside out before you go, +please.”</p> + +<p>Dab-Dab opened the bookcase-door and Cheapside +strutted out trying hard not to look guilty.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Cheapside,” said the Doctor sternly, “what did +you say to Miranda when she arrived?”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“But what did you say to her that got her so +offended?”</p> + +<p>“All I said was, ‘You don’t belong in an English +garden; you ought to be in a milliner’s window.’ +That’s all.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Sheepishly, but still trying to look as though he +didn’t care, Cheapside hopped out into the passage +and Dab-Dab closed the door.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE TENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>LONG ARROW, THE SON OF GOLDEN ARROW</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“Did you have a hard time getting here?” asked +the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“The worst passage I ever made,” said Miranda. +“The weather—Well there. What’s the use? I’m +here anyway.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” said the Doctor as though he had +been impatiently waiting to say something for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +long time: “what did Long Arrow say when you +gave him my message?”</p> + +<p>The Purple Bird-of-Paradise hung her head.</p> + +<p>“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. <i>Long Arrow, the son of Golden Arrow, +has disappeared!</i>”</p> + +<p>“Disappeared!” cried the Doctor. “Why, what’s +become of him?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Did you ask the black parrots?” asked Polynesia. +“They usually know everything.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. A young albatross told me he had seen +him on Spidermonkey Island?”</p> + +<p>“Spidermonkey Island? That’s somewhere off +the coast of Brazil, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“But was he never known to have returned from +the mountains?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think that some accident has happened +to him?” asked the Doctor in a fearful voice.</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid it must have,” said Miranda shaking +her head.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a><br /><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +thing. But you don’t really think that he is dead, +do you?”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 380px;"> +<img src="images/i-151.jpg" width="380" height="600" alt="bird on pedestal" /> +<div class="caption">“‘What else can I think?’”</div> +</div> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>BLIND TRAVEL</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +sea. But now?—He’s gone! And all his great +knowledge has gone with him.”</p> + +<p>Then he seemed to fall a-dreaming again.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“But you will go on some voyage, Doctor, won’t +you?” I asked—“even if you can’t go to find Long +Arrow.”</p> + +<p>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,</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>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,</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, let’s!” I almost yelled. “How thrilling! +I hope it’s China—or Borneo—or Bagdad.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +was the chart of the North and South Poles. Then +came the hemispheres, the oceans, the continents +and the countries.</p> + +<p>As the Doctor began sharpening his pencil a +thought came to me.</p> + +<p>“What if the pencil falls upon the North Pole,” +I asked, “will we have to go there?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>I could hardly speak with astonishment.</p> + +<p>“<i>You’ve been to the North pole!</i>” I managed to +gasp out at last. “But I thought it was still undiscovered. +The map shows all the places explorers +have reached to, <i>trying</i> to get there. Why isn’t +your name down if you discovered it?”</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“All right,” I called out, “it’s done.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE TWELFTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>DESTINY AND DESTINATION</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>The atlas lay open at a map called, <i>Chart of the +South Atlantic Ocean</i>. 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.</p> + +<p>“<i>Spidermonkey Island</i>,” 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!”</p> + +<p>“We’ll go there, Doctor, won’t we?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Of course we will. The rules of the game say +we’ve got to.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“What are Jabizri beetles?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“What is this little question-mark after the name +of the island for?” I asked, pointing to the map.</p> + +<p>“That means that the island’s position in the +ocean is not known very exactly—that it is somewhere +<i>about</i> 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.”</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>“I’ll bet it will be a great voyage,” I said. “It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +looks a lovely island on the map. Will there be +black men there?”</p> + +<p>“No. A peculiar tribe of Red Indians lives on +it, Miranda tells me.”</p> + +<p>At this point the poor Bird-of-Paradise stirred +and woke up. In our excitement we had forgotten +to speak low.</p> + +<p>“We are going to Spidermonkey Island, Miranda,” +said the Doctor. “You know where it is, +do you not?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” asked the Doctor. “It is +always in the same place surely?”</p> + +<p>“Not by any means,” said Miranda. “Why, +didn’t you know?—Spidermonkey Island is a +<i>floating</i> 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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Has the boy gone crazy?” cried the duck. +“Where do you think you’re going, ninny?”</p> + +<p>“To Spidermonkey Island!” I shouted, picking +myself up and doing cart-wheels down the hall—“Spidermonkey +Island! Hooray!—And it’s a +<i>floating</i> island!”</p> + +<p>“You’re going to Bedlam, I should say,” snorted +the housekeeper. “Look what you’ve done to my +best china!”</p> + +<p>But I was far too happy to listen to her scolding; +and I ran on, singing, into the kitchen to find Chee-Chee.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 177px;"> +<img src="images/decoration.jpg" width="177" height="21" alt="decoration" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>PART THREE</h2> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2><i>THE FIRST CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE THIRD MAN</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">THAT same week we began our preparations +for the voyage.</p> + +<p>Joe, the mussel-man, had the <i>Curlew</i> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“My Goodness, Tommy,” said he, as he watched +me carrying on some sacks of flour, “but that’s a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +pretty boat! Where might the Doctor be going +to this voyage?”</p> + +<p>“We’re going to Spidermonkey Island,” I said +proudly.</p> + +<p>“And be you the only one the Doctor’s taking +along?”</p> + +<p>“Well, he has spoken of wanting to take another +man,” I said; “but so far he hasn’t made up his +mind.”</p> + +<p>Matthew grunted; then squinted up at the graceful +masts of the <i>Curlew</i>.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“This is treacle,” I said—“twenty pounds of treacle.”</p> + +<p>“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—”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>But it wasn’t very long before some one else came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +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,</p> + +<p>“Boy, where’s the skipper?”</p> + +<p>“The <i>skipper</i>!—Who do you mean?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“The captain—Where’s the captain of this +craft?” he said, pointing to the <i>Curlew</i>.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you mean the Doctor,” said I. “Well, he +isn’t here at present.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, Captain,” said he. “I heard +you was in need of hands for a voyage. My name’s +Ben Butcher, able seaman.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a><br /><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +called his <i>stiffikit</i>—a paper which said what a good +sailor he was—and implored us, if we valued our +lives, to take him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 419px;"> +<img src="images/i-165.jpg" width="419" height="500" alt="sailor talking to boy" /> +<div class="caption">“‘Boy, where’s the skipper?’”</div> +</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Pardon me,” said he, bowing elegantly, “but +is this the ship of the physician Dolittle?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I said, “did you wish to see him?”</p> + +<p>“I did—if it will not be discommodious,” he answered.</p> + +<p>“Who shall I say it is?”</p> + +<p>“I am Bumpo Kahbooboo, Crown Prince of +Jolliginki.”</p> + +<p>I ran downstairs at once and told the Doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>The strange black man seemed to be overcome +with joy when the Doctor appeared and shook him +warmly by the hand.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“How many men does your ship’s company yet +require?” asked Bumpo.</p> + +<p>“Only one,” said the Doctor—“But it is so hard +to find the right one.”</p> + +<p>“Methinks I detect something of the finger of +Destination in this,” said Bumpo. “How would I +do?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“I need a holiday,” said Bumpo. “Even had I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“How did you like the life at Oxford?” asked +the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor looked down at the black man’s huge +bare feet thoughtfully a moment.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SECOND CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>GOOD-BYE!</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">TWO days after that we had all in readiness +for our departure.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Down at the river-wall we found a great crowd +waiting to see us off.</p> + +<p>Standing right near the gang-plank were my +mother and father. I hoped that they would not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At last, after much pulling and tugging, we got +the anchor up and undid a lot of mooring-ropes. +Then the <i>Curlew</i> began to move gently down the +river with the out-running tide, while the people on +the wall cheered and waved their handkerchiefs.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +open sea. There aren’t so many silly things to +bump into.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +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!</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE THIRD CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>OUR TROUBLES BEGIN</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">JUST before supper-time Bumpo appeared +from downstairs and went to the Doctor at +the wheel.</p> + +<p>“A stowaway in the hold, Sir,” said he in +a very business-like seafaring voice. “I just discovered +him, behind the flour-bags.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Why Matthew!” said John Dolittle. “What +on earth are you doing here?”</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Very good, Sir,” said Bumpo, turning round +smartly and making for the stairway.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At last we heard some one trundling on the stairs +again and the Doctor said,</p> + +<p>“Ah, here’s Bumpo with the maps at last!”</p> + +<p>But to our great astonishment it was not Bumpo +alone that appeared but <i>three</i> people.</p> + +<p>“Good Lord deliver us! Who are these?” cried +John Dolittle.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>You could never guess who it was. It was Luke +and his wife. Mrs. Luke appeared to be very miserable +and seasick.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +wouldn’t be so well known. But as soon as the +ship had begun to roll Mrs. Luke had got most +dreadfully unwell.</p> + +<p>Poor Luke apologized many times for being such +a nuisance and said that the whole thing had been +his wife’s idea.</p> + +<p>The Doctor, after he had sent below for his +medicine-bag and had given Mrs. Luke some <i>sal +volatile</i> 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.</p> + +<p>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,</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Curlew</i> 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.</p> + +<p>It was now after midnight; so we decided to stay +in the harbor and wait till morning before setting +out again.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FOURTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>OUR TROUBLES CONTINUE</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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,</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“How long will it take us from here to the Capa +Blancas?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“About six days,” said the Doctor—“Well, we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Besides that, Polynesia, who was an older sailor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 431px;"> +<img src="images/i-181.jpg" width="431" height="500" alt="view undersea with shif and large snail" /> +<div class="caption">“In these lower levels we came upon the shadowy shapes of dead +ships”</div> + +<div class="right"><i><a href="#Page_360">Page 360</a></i></div> +</div> +<p>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.</p> + +<p>On the morning of the fifth day out, just as I +was taking the wheel over from the Doctor, Bumpo +appeared and said,</p> + +<p>“The salt beef is nearly all gone, Sir.”</p> + +<p>“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?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Polynesia who was walking up and down a stay-rope +taking her morning exercise, put in,</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Washamarrer?” he said sleepily.</p> + +<p>It was Ben Butcher, the able seaman.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> + +<p>Polynesia spluttered like an angry fire-cracker.</p> + +<p>“This is the last straw,” said she. “The one +man in the world we least wanted. Shiver my +timbers, what cheek!”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>So we led the man to the wheel where he respectfully +touched his cap to the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“Another stowaway, Sir,” said Bumpo smartly.</p> + +<p>I thought the poor Doctor would have a fit.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>“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 <i>this</i> 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.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and think yourself lucky,” Polynesia put +in, “that you are not locked up for stowing away +and eating all our salt beef.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FIFTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>POLYNESIA HAS A PLAN</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At last the Doctor told him to stop talking and +go downstairs. He refused—said he wasn’t going<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +to be sunk by landlubbers while he was still able to +stay on deck.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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—”</p> + +<p>“Do you really think,” I interrupted, “that it <i>is</i> +safe for the Doctor to cross the Atlantic without +any regular seamen on his ship?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +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—”</p> + +<p>“But what are we going to do about Ben +Butcher?” Jip put in. “You had some plan +Polynesia, hadn’t you?”</p> + +<p>“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 <i>Curlew</i>. 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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ve got it all worked out,” said Polynesia. +“Listen: is there a key in that door?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> + +<p>We looked outside the dining-room and found +that there was.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“How stratagenious!” Bumpo chuckled. “As +Cicero said, <i>parrots cum parishioners facilime congregation</i>. +I’ll lay the table at once.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Almost immediately, <i>thump</i>, <i>thump</i>, <i>thump</i>, down +the stairs tramped Ben Butcher, the able seaman. +He walked into the dining-saloon, sat himself down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +at the head of the table in the Doctor’s place, tucked +a napkin under his fat chin and heaved a sigh of +expectation.</p> + +<p>Then, <i>bang</i>! Bumpo slammed the door and +locked it.</p> + +<p>“That settles <i>him</i> 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.”</p> + +<p>And bursting into a rollicking Norwegian sea-song, +she climbed up to my shoulder and we went +on deck.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SIXTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE BED-MAKER OF MONTEVERDE</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">WE remained three days in the Capa +Blanca Islands.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +we arrived there; and after we had got rid of the +able seaman we took a walk through the town.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a><br /><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/i-195.jpg" width="400" height="550" alt="doctor talking to man on sidewalk" /> +<div class="caption">“The Doctor started chatting in Spanish to the bed-maker”</div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SEVENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE DOCTOR’S WAGER</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>“They are the bullfighters,” he said. “There is +to be a bullfight to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“What is a bullfight?” I asked.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>“Every Sunday,” said the Doctor, “in almost +every big town in Spain there are six bulls killed like +that and as many horses.”</p> + +<p>“But aren’t the men ever killed by the bull?” +I asked.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Don Enrique when he heard where we +were from, spoke to us in English. He appeared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +to be a well-educated, gentlemanly sort of person.</p> + +<p>“And you go to see the bullfight to-morrow, +yes?” he asked the Doctor pleasantly.</p> + +<p>“Certainly not,” said John Dolittle firmly. “I +don’t like bullfights—cruel, cowardly shows.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Pepito de Malaga,” said Don Enrique, “one of +the greatest names, one of the bravest men, in all +Spain.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>Don Enrique threw back his head and laughed.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Supposing I were willing to take the risk of +that—You are not afraid, I take it, to accept my +offer?”</p> + +<p>The Spaniard frowned.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +after to-morrow, you could do it, couldn’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Don Enrique proudly—“I could.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>The Spaniard held out his hand.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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,</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Listen,” said Polynesia, “I’ve been breaking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +my head trying to think up some way we can get +money to buy those stores with; and at last I’ve got +it.”</p> + +<p>“The money?” said Bumpo.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“What’s a side bet?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>So we crossed the street again and slipped into +the bed-maker’s shop while the Doctor was still +busy with his boots.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> + +<p>Don Enrique bowed.</p> + +<p>“Why certainly,” he said, “I shall be delighted. +But I must warn you that you are bound to lose. +How much?”</p> + +<p>“Oh a mere truffle,” said Bumpo—“just for the +fun of the thing, you know. What do you say to +three-thousand pesetas?”</p> + +<p>“I agree,” said the Spaniard bowing once more. +“I will meet you after the bullfight to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE EIGHTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE GREAT BULLFIGHT</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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, +“<i>Juan Hagapoco, el grueso matador!</i>” which is +the Spanish for, “John Dolittle, the fat bullfighter.”</p> + +<p>As soon as we arrived the Doctor said he would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +chance of that. A roar of laughter went up at the +very mention of such a thing.</p> + +<p>When Pepito came into the ring everybody +cheered, the ladies blew kisses and the men clapped +and waved their hats.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +soon as his fat figure, dressed in sky-blue velvet, +appeared, the crowd rocked in their seats with +laughter.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Look out! Look out!—The bull! You will +be killed!” yelled the crowd.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +the English matador, caught the poor bull by +the tail.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.”</p> + +<p>“Does the caballero wish for a fresh bull?” +asked Don Enrique.</p> + +<p>“No,” said the Doctor, “I want five fresh bulls. +And I would like them all in the ring at +once, please.”</p> + +<p>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 <i>five</i>!—That must +mean certain death.</p> + +<p>Pepito sprang forward and called to Don Enrique +not to allow it, saying it was against all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a><br /><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;"> +<img src="images/i-209.jpg" width="404" height="550" alt="Doctor doing handstand on bull's horns" /> +<div class="caption">“Did acrobatics on the beast’s horns”</div> +</div> + +<p>“Well, of course if the caballero is afraid—” +he began with a bland smile.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>The bulls put down their heads and all in line,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +like a squadron of cavalry, charged across the ring +straight for poor Pepito.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>One woman in the crowd got quite hysterical +and screamed up to Don Enrique,</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Then with a final bow to the ladies John Dolittle +took a cigar from his pocket, lit it and strolled out +of the ring.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE NINTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>WE DEPART IN A HURRY</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>But the Doctor just smiled up at them, bowed +once more and backed out.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“I dare say you’re right, Polynesia,” said the +Doctor—“You usually are. The crowd does seem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +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!”</p> + +<p>As soon as the Doctor had departed Bumpo +sought out Don Enrique and said,</p> + +<p>“Honorable Sir, you owe me three-thousand +pesetas.”</p> + +<p>Without a word, but looking cross-eyed with annoyance, +Don Enrique paid his bet.</p> + +<p>We next set out to buy the provisions; and on +the way we hired a cab and took it along with us.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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,</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>After that we didn’t waste any time, you may be +sure. Bumpo grabbed the Spanish cab-driver and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Curlew</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It only took a moment more to swing the <i>Curlew</i> +round into the wind; and soon we were speeding +out of the harbor on our way to Brazil.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 177px;"> +<img src="images/decoration.jpg" width="177" height="21" alt="decoration" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>PART FOUR</h2> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2><i>THE FIRST CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>SHELLFISH LANGUAGES AGAIN</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">MIRANDA, the Purple Bird-of-Paradise +had prophesied rightly when she had +foretold a good spell of weather. +For three weeks the good ship <i>Curlew</i> +plowed her way through smiling seas before a +steady powerful wind.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +it whether they be English, Dutch, or French.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Curlew</i> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Curlew</i> +look as though she were moving across a meadow +instead of sailing the Atlantic.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Stubbins,” he cried as soon as he saw me—“a +most extraordinary thing—Quite unbelievable—I’m<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a><br /><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +not sure whether I’m dreaming—Can’t believe +my own senses. I—I—I—”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 405px;"> +<img src="images/i-221.jpg" width="405" height="500" alt="doctor talking to boy and pointing to fishbowl" /> +<div class="caption">“‘He talks English!’”</div> +</div> + +<p>“Why, Doctor,” I said, “what is it?—What’s +the matter?”</p> + +<p>“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 <i>he whistles tunes</i>—English +tunes!”</p> + +<p>“Talks English!” I cried—“Whistles!—Why, +it’s impossible.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>, +sounding like a child singing miles and miles away, +I heard an unbelievably thin, small voice.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” I said.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” asked the Doctor in a hoarse, +trembly whisper. “What does he say?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“What tune is it?” gasped the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“John Peel.”</p> + +<p>“Ah hah,” cried the Doctor, “that’s what I +made it out to be.” And he wrote furiously in his +note-book.</p> + +<p>I went on listening.</p> + +<p>“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—”</p> + +<p>“Here’s some more,” I cried—“some more +English.... ‘<i>The big tank needs cleaning</i>’.... +That’s all. Now he’s talking fish-talk again.”</p> + +<p>“The big tank!” the Doctor murmured frowning +in a puzzled kind of way. “I wonder where on +earth he learned—”</p> + +<p>Then he bounded up out of his chair.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SECOND CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE FIDGIT’S STORY</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Curlew</i> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +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?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<div class="center">THIRTEEN MONTHS IN AN AQUARIUM</div> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +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!’</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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—<i>Swoop! Bang!</i>—we +were caught in a net.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>“One day my sister said to me, ‘Think you, +Brother, that these strange creatures who have +captured us can talk?’</p> + +<p>“‘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!’</p> + +<p>“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!’</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +writings signified, <i>No Smoking</i> and <i>Don’t Spit</i>.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“This made me think mightily; and presently a +great idea burst upon me.</p> + +<p>“‘Sister,’ I said, turning to poor Clippa who +was sulking at the bottom of our prison trying to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +hide behind a stone from the stupid gaze of the +children who thronged about our tank, ‘supposing +that <i>we</i> pretended we were sick: do you think they +would take us also from this stuffy house?’</p> + +<p>“‘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.’</p> + +<p>“‘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.’</p> + +<p>“‘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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +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 <i>the Sea</i>!... Oh—’</p> + +<p>“And then she broke down completely, sniffling.</p> + +<p>“‘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?’</p> + +<p>“‘I will,’ she said—‘and gladly.’</p> + +<p>“So next morning two fidgits were found by the +keeper floating on the top of the water in their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> + +<p>“‘Now for it!’ I thought to myself. ‘We’ll +soon know our fate: liberty or the garbage-can.’</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Finally he reached the sea-wall and giving us one +last sad look he dropped us into the waters of the +harbor.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“But we?—What time or thought had we for +his troubles? <i>We were free!</i> In lightning leaps, +in curving spurts, in crazy zig-zags—whooping, +shrieking with delight, we sped for home and the +open sea!</p> + +<p>“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.”</p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p><i>The Doctor:</i> “Is there any part of the sea deeper +than that known as the Nero Deep—I mean the +one near the Island of Guam?”</p> + +<p><i>The Fidgit:</i> “Why, certainly. There’s one much +deeper than that near the mouth of the Amazon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +River. But it’s small and hard to find. We +call it ‘The Deep Hole.’ And there’s another +in the Antarctic Sea.”</p> + +<p><i>The Doctor:</i> “Can you talk any shellfish language +yourself?”</p> + +<p><i>The Fidgit:</i> “No, not a word. We regular fishes +don’t have anything to do with the shellfish. We +consider them a low class.”</p> + +<p><i>The Doctor:</i> “But when you’re near them, can you +hear the sound they make talking—I mean without +necessarily understanding what they say?”</p> + +<p><i>The Fidgit:</i> “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.”</p> + +<p><i>The Doctor:</i> “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?”</p> + +<p><i>The Fidgit:</i> “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.”</p> + +<p><i>The Doctor:</i> “Er—who, or what, is the Great +Glass Sea Snail?”</p> + +<p><i>The Fidgit:</i> “He is an enormous salt-water snail,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p><i>The Doctor:</i> “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?”</p> + +<p><i>The Fidgit:</i> “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.”</p> + +<p><i>The Doctor:</i> “Dear me! That’s a terrible +disappointment. Are there many of this kind +of snail in the sea?”</p> + +<p><i>The Fidgit:</i> “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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +and all that. They say he is over seventy +thousand years old.”</p> + +<p><i>The Doctor:</i> “Good Gracious, what wonderful +things he could tell me! I do wish I could meet +him.”</p> + +<p><i>The Fidgit:</i> “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.”</p> + +<p><i>The Doctor:</i> “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?”</p> + +<p><i>The Fidgit:</i> “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.”</p> + +<p><i>The Doctor:</i> “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?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>The Fidgit:</i> “No, I won’t stop. All I want just +at present is fresh sea-water.”</p> + +<p><i>The Doctor:</i> “I cannot thank you enough for all +the information you have given me. You have +been very helpful and patient.”</p> + +<p><i>The Fidgit:</i> “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!”</p></div> + +<p>The Doctor carried the listening-tank to a port-hole, +opened it and emptied the tank into the sea.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye!” he murmured as a faint splash +reached us from without.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>In the passage outside Polynesia scratched angrily +at the door. I rose and let her in.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +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?”</p> + +<p>She was so angry that her voice rose to a scream. +But it would have taken more than that to wake +the Doctor.</p> + +<p>I put the note-book carefully in a drawer and went +on deck to take the wheel.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE THIRD CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>BAD WEATHER</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">AS soon as I had the <i>Curlew</i> 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.</p> + +<p>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 +<i>Curlew</i> just dawdled along at the speed of a toddling +babe.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +and the Purple Bird-of-Paradise will know that we +have been delayed by something that we couldn’t +help.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>A gentle breeze from the Northeast came singing +through the ropes; and we smiled up hopefully at +the <i>Curlew’s</i> leaning masts.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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 <i>Curlew</i> this way +and that to keep the right side of it.</p> + +<p>Presently we heard Polynesia, who was in the +rigging keeping a look-out for land or passing ships, +screech down to us,</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>When that storm finally struck us we leaned +right over flatly on our side, as though some invisible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +giant had slapped the poor <i>Curlew</i> on the +cheek.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<i>Curlew</i> would come to a standstill, half under water, +like a gasping, drowning pig.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FOURTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>WRECKED!</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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 <i>Curlew</i>. 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!</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 427px;"> +<img src="images/i-246.jpg" width="427" height="480" alt="Boy tied to mast floating alone in water" /> +<div class="caption">“I was alone in the ocean!”</div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>But where was he?</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +do anything she liked, it seemed; and his only answer +was a lazy, saucy flip of the wing! <i>He</i> was +the one who should be called the <i>able seaman</i>. For, +come raging gale, come sunlit calm, this wilderness +of water was his home.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.”</p> + +<p>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!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>How long I paced back and forth I don’t know. +But it was a long time—for I had nothing else to +do.</p> + +<p>At last I got tired and lay down to rest. And +in spite of all my troubles, I soon fell fast asleep.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Are you awake?” said a high silvery voice at +my elbow.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Miranda, you dear old thing,” said I, “I’m +so glad to see you. Tell me, where is the Doctor? +Is he alive?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“What’s he doing there?”</p> + +<p>“He’s sitting on the other half of the <i>Curlew</i> +shaving himself—or he was, when I left him.”</p> + +<p>“Well, thank Heaven he’s alive!” said I—“And +Bumpo—and the animals, are they all right?”</p> + +<p>“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 <i>was</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“Well, but how can I get to the Doctor, Miranda?—I +haven’t any oars.”</p> + +<p>“Get to him!—Why, you’re going to him now. +Look behind you.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“What’s moving us?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“The porpoises,” said Miranda.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +figure of the black man standing against the sky?—Now +Chee-Chee spies us—he’s waving. Don’t +you see them?”</p> + +<p>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 <i>Curlew</i>—floating low down +upon the water.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It lay partly upon its side; and most of them +were perched upon the top munching ship’s biscuit.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FIFTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>LAND!</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +could never die. Just to be with him gave you a +wonderful feeling of comfort and safety.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>And now for three days we continued our journey +slowly but steadily—southward.</p> + +<p>The only inconvenience we suffered from was the +cold. This seemed to increase as we went forward.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Don’t forget, Miranda,” said John Dolittle, +“if you should hear anything of what happened to +Long Arrow, to get word to me.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The porpoises gave us one last push and our +strange-looking craft bumped gently on a low<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“What discourteous pagans!” said Bumpo. “Did +you ever see such inhospitability?—Never even +asked us if we’d had breakfast, the benighted +bounders!”</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +honest, open faces and look like a decent crowd to +me. They’re just ignorant—probably never saw +white folks before.”</p> + +<p>So, feeling a little bit discouraged by our first +reception, we moved off towards the mountains in +the centre of the island.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SIXTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE JABIZRI</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>While we were admiring one of these the Doctor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +suddenly said, “Sh!—A Jabizri!—Don’t you hear +it?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It certainly was a most beautiful insect. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +pale blue underneath; but its back was glossy black +with huge red spots on it.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>For several moments there was a dead silence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +while we all stared at the leaf, fascinated and mystified.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“But what is it?” I asked—“Rows of little pictures +and signs. What do you make of it, Doctor?”</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>Then he fell to muttering over the pictures.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>All of a sudden the Doctor looked up sharply at +me, a wonderful smile of delighted understanding +spreading over his face.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p> + +<p>“<i>Long Arrow!</i>” 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.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but who is the letter to?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Well, but what does it say? It doesn’t seem +to me that it’s much good to you now you’ve got it.”</p> + +<p>“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 <i>burrow</i> 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 +<i>was</i> a chance; and when men are in great danger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SEVENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>HAWK’S-HEAD MOUNTAIN</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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>I</i> would not be the first +to give up.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>We floundered after him as fast as we could. +When I say <i>we</i>, I mean Bumpo and myself; for the +animals, Jip, Chee-Chee and Polynesia, were a long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +way ahead—even beyond the Doctor—enjoying the +hunt like a paper-chase.</p> + +<p>At length we arrived at the foot of the mountain +we were making for; and we found its sides very +steep. Said the Doctor,</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>Then we all went off our different ways.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Jip,” he said, “couldn’t you <i>smell</i> anything like +an Indian anywhere?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Jip. “I sniffed at every crack on the +mountainside. But I am afraid my nose will be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“And Polynesia,” asked the Doctor, “did you see +nothing that might put us on the right track?”</p> + +<p>“Not a thing, Doctor—But I have a plan.”</p> + +<p>“Oh good!” cried John Dolittle, full of hope renewed. +“What is it? Let’s hear it.”</p> + +<p>“You still have that beetle with you,” she asked—“the +Biz-biz, or whatever it is you call the +wretched insect?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the Doctor, producing the glass-topped +box from his pocket, “here it is.”</p> + +<p>“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?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +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?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the Doctor, “that’s probably so.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Quite, quite.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Let</i> 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.”</p> + +<p>“Splendid!” cried the Doctor. “Polynesia, you +have a great brain. I’ll set him to work at once +and see what happens.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Ladybug, Ladybug, fly away home!” crooned +Bumpo. “Your house is on fire and your chil—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, be quiet!” snapped Polynesia crossly. +“Stop insulting him! Don’t you suppose he has +wits enough to go home without your telling him?”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>We had expected him to walk <i>up</i> the mountain; +instead, he walked <i>around</i> it. Do you know how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Bumpo to Polynesia, “what do you +think of the beetle’s sense now? You see he <i>doesn’t</i> +know enough to go home.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, be still, you Hottentot!” snapped Polynesia. +“Wouldn’t <i>you</i> 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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p> + +<p>“But why,” I asked, “did he go the whole way +round the mountain first?”</p> + +<p>Then the three of us got into a violent argument. +But in the middle of it all the Doctor suddenly +called out,</p> + +<p>“Look, look!”</p> + +<p>We turned and found that he was pointing to the +Jabizri, who was now walking <i>up</i> the mountain at +a much faster and more business-like gait.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Bumpo sitting down wearily; “if he +is going to walk <i>over</i> the mountain and back, for +more exercise, I’ll wait for him here. Chee-Chee +and Polynesia can follow him.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she shouted down, “we’ve run him to +earth at last. His hole is right here, behind a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +patch of lichen—big enough to get two fingers in.”</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>And then a cold shiver ran down my spine. For, +from within the mountain, back came three answering +knocks: <i>Boom!... Boom!... Boom!</i></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Thank Heaven,” he said in a hushed reverent +voice, “some of them at least are alive!”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>PART FIVE</h2> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2><i>THE FIRST CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>A GREAT MOMENT</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Nuts are so nourishing,” she said.</p> + +<p>But Jip it was who, scratching at the foot of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +slab like a good ratter, made the discovery which +led to our final success.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor hurried to examine the place where +Jip had dug.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>After about an hour, during which in spite of the +cold the sweat fell from our foreheads in all directions, +the Doctor said,</p> + +<p>“Be ready to jump from under, clear out of the +way, if she shows signs of moving. If this slab<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +falls on anybody, it will squash him flatter than a +pancake.”</p> + +<p>Presently there was a grating, grinding sound.</p> + +<p>“Look out!” yelled John Dolittle, “here she +comes!—Scatter!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I know that the Doctor, whose life was surely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“It is he!” I heard the Doctor whisper at my +elbow. “I know him by his great height and the +scar upon his chin.”</p> + +<p>And he stepped forward slowly across the fallen +stone with his hand outstretched to the red man.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Then the Doctor tried to speak to Long Arrow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a><br /><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 390px;"> +<img src="images/i-277.jpg" width="390" height="550" alt="Doctor meeting Long Arrow" /> +<div class="caption">“It was a great moment”</div> +</div> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>The Doctor tried again, in several other animal +dialects. But with no result.</p> + +<p>Till at last he came to the language of eagles.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>In a flash Long Arrow’s stony face lit up with a +smile of understanding; and back came the answer +in eagle-tongue,</p> + +<p>“Mighty White Man, I owe my life to you. For +the remainder of my days I am your servant to command.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +nod of thanks, he turned and carried them into the +inner dimness of the cave. We followed him.</p> + +<p>Inside we found nine other Indians, men, women +and boys, lying on the rock floor in a dreadful state +of thinness and exhaustion.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At a word from the Doctor, Chee-Chee and +Polynesia sped off into the jungles after more fruit +and water.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>their</i> story of how it came there. They say that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SECOND CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>“THE MEN OF THE MOVING LAND”</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“What did he die of?” asked the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“He died of cold,” said Long Arrow.</p> + +<p>Indeed, now that the sun was setting, we were +all shivering ourselves.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“How artistic!” said the Doctor—“Delightfully +situated. What is the name of the village?”</p> + +<p>“Popsipetel,” said Long Arrow. “That is the +name also of the tribe. The word signifies in Indian +tongue, <i>The Men of The Moving Land</i>. There are +two tribes of Indians on the island: the Popsipetels +at this end and the Bag-jagderags at the other.”</p> + +<p>“Which is the larger of the two peoples?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>These good people, when they too were told how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Inside our new home a feast of fish and fruit had +been prepared. Most of the more important men<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>With many apologies, the Doctor explained to +Long Arrow that if they had no objection we would +prefer our fish cooked.</p> + +<p>Imagine our astonishment when we found that +the great Long Arrow, so learned in the natural +sciences, did not know what the word <i>cooked</i> meant!</p> + +<p>Polynesia who was sitting on the bench between +John Dolittle and myself pulled the Doctor by the +sleeve.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Doctor,” she whispered +as he leant down to listen to her: “<i>these people +have no fires</i>! 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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE THIRD CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>FIRE</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>“Poor perishing heathens!” muttered Bumpo. +“No wonder the old chief died of cold!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor examined the baby and found at once +that it was thoroughly chilled.</p> + +<p>“Fire—<i>fire</i>! That’s what it needs,” he said +turning to Long Arrow—“That’s what you all need.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +This child will have pneumonia if it isn’t kept warm.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>He gave an order to two of our boy-servants +who promptly disappeared running. And sure<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +enough, in a very short space of time a squirrel’s nest, +together with hard and soft woods, was brought +to our door.</p> + +<p>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 <i>is</i> no +such thing as pitch-dark, so long as you have a door +open or a sky above you.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The Indians murmured and grunted with astonishment. +At first they were all for falling on their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +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—<i>fire</i>!</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FOURTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>WHAT MAKES AN ISLAND FLOAT</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +floating—a sign that we were now not far from +the terrible region of the Antarctic.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>He asked them how far we were from the South +Polar Continent.</p> + +<p>About a hundred miles, they told him. And then +they asked why he wanted to know.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said the porpoises, “then the thing to +do is to get it back into a warmer climate, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but how?” said the Doctor. “We can’t +<i>row</i> it back.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said they, “but whales could push it—if +you only got enough of them.”</p> + +<p>“What a splendid idea!—Whales, the very +thing!” said the Doctor. “Do you think you could +get me some?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“What a pecurious phenometer!” said Bumpo.</p> + +<p>“It is indeed,” said the Doctor. “I must make +a note of that.” And out came the everlasting +note-book.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>They certainly were enormous creatures; and +there must have been a good two hundred of them.</p> + +<p>“Here they are,” said the porpoises, poking their +heads out of the water.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Then we lay down upon the beach and waited.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” said the Doctor, “see that?—The island +is going North at last. Thank goodness!”</p> + +<p>Faster and faster we left the stick behind; and +smaller and dimmer grew the icebergs on the skyline.</p> + +<p>The Doctor took out his watch, threw more sticks +into the water and made a rapid calculation.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FIFTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>WAR!</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>Long Arrow listened gravely to the breathless, +babbled words, then turned to the Doctor and said +in eagle tongue,</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Long Arrow brought another Indian, short but +enormously broad, and introduced him to the Doctor +as Big Teeth, the chief warrior of the Popsipetels.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span></p> + +<p>“They’re coming!—The Bag-jagderags—swarming +down the mountains in thousands!”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>And he picked up a club from the ground and +tried the heft of it against a stone.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Where she was going and what kind of help<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +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,</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The bamboo fencing which had been hastily set +up around the town was not a very strong affair;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a><br /><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 580px;"> +<img src="images/i-299.jpg" width="580" height="307" alt="engraving" /> +<div class="caption">The Terrible Three<br /> +<i>From an Indian rock-engraving found on Hawks’-Head Mountain, Spidermonkey Island</i></div> +</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> +<div class="center">THE SONG OF THE TERRIBLE THREE</div> +<div class="verse"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh hear ye the Song of the Terrible Three</span></div> +<div class="verse">And the fight that they fought by the edge of the sea.</div> +<div class="verse"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Down from the mountains, the rocks and the crags,</span></div> +<div class="verse">Swarming like wasps, came the Bag-jagderags.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> +<div class="verse"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Surrounding our village, our walls they broke down.</span></div> +<div class="verse">Oh, sad was the plight of our men and our town!</div> +<div class="verse"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But Heaven determined our land to set free</span></div> +<div class="verse"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>And sent us the help of the Terrible Three.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> +<div class="verse"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">One was a Black—he was dark as the night;</span></div> +<div class="verse">One was a Red-skin, a mountain of height;</div> +<div class="verse"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But the chief was a White Man, round like a bee;</span></div> +<div class="verse">And all in a row stood the Terrible Three.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> +<div class="verse"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shoulder to shoulder, they hammered and hit.</span></div> +<div class="verse">Like demons of fury they kicked and they bit.</div> +<div class="verse"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Like a wall of destruction they stood in a row,</span></div> +<div class="verse">Flattening enemies, six at a blow.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> +<div class="verse"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh, strong was the Red-skin fierce was the Black.</span></div> +<div class="verse">Bag-jagderags trembled and tried to turn back.</div> +<div class="verse"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But ’twas of the White Man they shouted, “Beware!</span></div> +<div class="verse">He throws men in handfuls, straight up in the air!”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> +<div class="verse"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Long shall they frighten bad children at night</span></div> +<div class="verse">With tales of the Red and the Black and the White.</div> +<div class="verse"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">And long shall we sing of the Terrible Three</span></div> +<div class="verse">And the fight that they fought by the edge of the sea.</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SIXTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>GENERAL POLYNESIA</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> +the second of the Three. John Dolittle, the last +of the Terribles, was left fighting alone.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“To the canoes!—To the sea!” shouted the Popsipetels. +“Fly for your lives!—All is over!—The +war is lost!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +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 <i>Ragged-Eared Bag-jagderags</i>.</p> + +<p>As soon as the village was cleared of the enemy +the Doctor turned his attention to the wounded.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The Doctor picked up his high hat which had +been knocked off in the fight, dusted it carefully and +put it on.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>His words were greeted with cheers of triumph +from the admiring Popsipetels. The war was over.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SEVENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE PEACE OF THE PARROTS</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At this a great cry for mercy went up, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +chief and all of them fell on their knees, calling out +that they would submit to any conditions of peace +he wished.</p> + +<p>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 <i>The Peace of The +Parrots</i>, and—unlike most peaces—was, and is, +strictly kept—even to this day.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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,</p> + +<p>“Do but stay with us, Great Lord, and all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor held up his hand for silence.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>Then he turned and followed by Bumpo, the +Popsipetels and myself, walked rapidly down to the +canoes.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE EIGHTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE HANGING STONE</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +Bag-jagderags followed us at a respectful distance +all the way back to Popsipetel.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>This was a very peculiar and striking piece of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a><br /><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 423px;"> +<img src="images/i-313.jpg" width="423" height="550" alt="pusing the island" /> +<div class="caption">“Working away with their noses against the end of the +island”</div> +</div> + +<p>We asked our guides why it was called the Whispering +Rocks; and they said, “Go down into it and +we will show you.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>They showed us also an enormous hanging stone +perched on the edge of a volcano’s crater—the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a><br /><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 434px;"> +<img src="images/i-315.jpg" width="434" height="480" alt="rock amphitheater with balancing rock in distance" /> +<div class="caption">“The Whispering Rocks”</div> +</div> + +<p>The Doctor said he would like to go and examine +it closer.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said I, “what?”</p> + +<p>“You remember the air-chamber which the porpoises +told us lies under the centre of the island?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Well, this stone is heavy enough, if it fell into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“But then everybody on it would be drowned, +wouldn’t they?” said Bumpo.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Bumpo, “I suppose there would. +Well, let us hope that the ponderous fragment does +<i>not</i> 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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>We reached Popsipetel just as the dawn was +breaking.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Rest, indeed, we needed; for life had been strenuous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE NINTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE ELECTION</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“The result of the election has just been announced,” +said she. “The name of the new chief +was given out at noon.”</p> + +<p>“And who is the new chief?” asked the Doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You are,” said Polynesia quietly.</p> + +<p>“<i>I!</i>” gasped the Doctor—“Well, of all things!”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t <i>want</i> to be a chief,” said the Doctor +in an irritable voice.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Oh Lord!” groaned the Doctor, “I do wish +they wouldn’t be so enthusiastic! Bother it, I +don’t <i>want</i> to be a king!”</p> + +<p>“I should think, Doctor,” said I, “you’d feel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +rather proud and glad. I wish <i>I</i> had a chance to +be a king.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Well, that’s something!” said Bumpo. “My +father is a king and has a hundred and twenty +wives.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Look,” said Polynesia, “here come the head men +to announce your election. Hurry up and get your +boots laced.”</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +by anything. It was in fact the only time I have +known him to get thoroughly fussed.</p> + +<p>“Oh dear!” I heard him murmur, looking around +wildly for some escape. “What <i>shall</i> 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.”</p> + +<p>“Oh don’t bother about your stud,” said Polynesia. +“You will have to be crowned without a collar. +They won’t know the difference.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>He turned back to the Indians at the door.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“You are the chosen one,” said he. “They will +have none but you.”</p> + +<p>Into the Doctor’s perplexed face suddenly there +came a flash of hope.</p> + +<p>“I’ll go and see Long Arrow,” he whispered to +me. “Perhaps he will know of some way to get +me out of this.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Long Arrow raised himself upon his elbow.</p> + +<p>“Oh Kindly One,” said he (this seemed now to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> +Indian merely shook his head and pointed, like the +bearers, to the waiting chair.</p> + +<p>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,</p> + +<p>“Botheration take it!—I don’t <i>want</i> to be a +king!”</p> + +<p>“Farewell!” called Long Arrow from his bed, +“and may good fortune ever stand within the +shadow of your throne!”</p> + +<p>“He comes!—He comes!” murmured the crowd. +“Away! Away!—To the Whispering Rocks!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE TENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE CORONATION OF KING JONG</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> +distance above I distinctly heard a twig snap beneath +his tread.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At last the old man finished his speech and stepping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>Turning once more to the people, the old man +said,</p> + +<p>“Men of Popsipetel, behold your elected king!—Are +you content?”</p> + +<p>And then at last the voice of the people broke +loose.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Jong!</span> <span class="smcap">Jong!</span>” they shouted, “<span class="smcap">Long Live +King Jong!</span>”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> +Stone topple slowly out of sight—down into the +heart of the volcano.</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor too had seen the stone fall and he was +now standing up looking at the sea expectantly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> +was high up in the hills watching the coronation of +King Jong.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 177px;"> +<img src="images/decoration.jpg" width="177" height="21" alt="decoration" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>PART SIX</h2> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2><i>THE FIRST CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>NEW POPSIPETEL</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>In building this town the Doctor gave the Indians<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>But this the Indians would not permit on any +account. They had been used to having their kings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a><br /><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 398px;"> +<img src="images/i-337.jpg" width="398" height="550" alt="crowned doctor catching butterflies" /> +<div class="caption">“Had to chase his butterflies with a crown upon his head”</div> +</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The rest of his day was more than filled with +road-making, building water-mills, attending the +sick and a million other things.</p> + +<p>In spite of his being so unwilling to become a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> +<div class="center">I</div> +<div class="center">(<i>His Landing on The Island</i>)</div> +<div class="verse">Heaven-sent,</div> +<div class="verse">In his dolphin-drawn canoe</div> +<div class="verse">From worlds unknown</div> +<div class="verse">He landed on our shores.</div> +<div class="verse">The very palms</div> +<div class="verse">Bowed down their heads</div> +<div class="verse">In welcome to the coming King.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> +<div class="center">II</div> +<div class="center">(<i>His Meeting With The Beetle</i>)</div> +<div class="verse">By moonlight in the mountains</div> +<div class="verse">He communed with beasts.</div> +<div class="verse">The shy Jabizri brings him picture-words</div> +<div class="verse">Of great distress.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> +<div class="center">III</div> +<div class="center">(<i>He liberates The Lost Families</i>)</div> +<div class="verse">Big was his heart with pity;</div> +<div class="verse">Big were his hands with strength.</div> +<div class="verse">See how he tears the mountain like a yam!</div> +<div class="verse">See how the lost ones</div> +<div class="verse">Dance forth to greet the day!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> +<div class="center">IV</div> +<div class="center">(<i>He Makes Fire</i>)</div> +<div class="verse">Our land was cold and dying.</div> +<div class="verse">He waved his hand and lo!</div> +<div class="verse">Lightning leapt from cloudless skies;</div> +<div class="verse"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span>The sun leant down;</div> +<div class="verse">And Fire was born!</div> +<div class="verse">Then while we crowded round</div> +<div class="verse">The grateful glow, pushed he</div> +<div class="verse">Our wayward, floating land</div> +<div class="verse">Back to peaceful anchorage</div> +<div class="verse">In sunny seas.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> +<div class="center">V</div> +<div class="center">(<i>He Leads The People To Victory in War</i>)</div> +<div class="verse">Once only</div> +<div class="verse">Was his kindly countenance</div> +<div class="verse">Darkened by a deadly frown.</div> +<div class="verse">Woe to the wicked enemy</div> +<div class="verse">That dares attack</div> +<div class="verse">The tribe with Thinkalot for Chief!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> +<div class="center">VI</div> +<div class="center">(<i>He Is Crowned King</i>)</div> +<div class="verse">The birds of the air rejoiced;</div> +<div class="verse">The Sea laughed and gambolled with her shores;</div> +<div class="verse">All Red-skins wept for joy</div> +<div class="verse">The day we crowned him King.</div> +<div class="verse">He is the Builder, the Healer, the Teacher and the Prince;</div> +<div class="verse">He is the greatest of them all.</div> +<div class="verse">May he live a thousand thousand years,</div> +<div class="verse">Happy in his heart,</div> +<div class="verse">To bless our land with Peace.</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SECOND CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THOUGHTS OF HOME</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“When do you suppose,” asked Jip, “the Doctor +intends to move on from here?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>There was a pause in the conversation.</p> + +<p>“Do you know what I believe?” she added presently. +“I believe the Doctor has given up even +thinking of going home.”</p> + +<p>“Good Lord!” cried Bumpo. “You don’t say!”</p> + +<p>“Sh!” said Polynesia. “What’s that noise?”</p> + +<p>We listened; and away off in the distant corridors +of the palace we heard the sentries crying,</p> + +<p>“The King!—Make way!—The King!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Well,” asked Polynesia quietly, “how did you +find the baby?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>Then he was silent again, staring dreamily at the +ceiling through a cloud of tobacco-smoke; while we +all sat round quite still, waiting.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor sat forward in his chair looking rather +uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>He thought a moment—then went on in a quieter, +sadder voice:</p> + +<p>“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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span>... +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>I</i> like +<i>them</i>. 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.”</p> + +<p>“For good—for your whole life?” asked Bumpo +in a low voice.</p> + +<p>For some moments the Doctor, frowning, made +no answer.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The sad silence that followed was broken finally +by a knock upon the door.</p> + +<p>With a patient sigh the Doctor got up and put +on his crown and cloak again.</p> + +<p>“Come in,” he called, sitting down in his chair +once more.</p> + +<p>The door opened and a footman—one of the +hundred and forty-three who were always on night +duty—stood bowing in the entrance.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh, Kindly One,” said he, “there is a traveler +at the palace-gate who would have speech with +Your Majesty.”</p> + +<p>“Another baby’s been born, I’ll bet a shilling,” +muttered Polynesia.</p> + +<p>“Did you ask the traveler’s name?” enquired the +Doctor.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Your Majesty,” said the footman. “It +is Long Arrow, the son of Golden Arrow.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE THIRD CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE RED MAN’S SCIENCE</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">“LONG ARROW!” cried the Doctor. +“How splendid! Show him in—show +him in at once.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Behold, oh Kindly One,” said he, “I bring you, +as I promised, my collection of plants which I had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> +hidden in a cave in the Andes. These treasures +represent the labors of my life.”</p> + +<p>The packages were opened; and inside were many +smaller packages and bundles. Carefully they were +laid out in rows upon the table.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“These,” said he, taking up a little packet of +big seeds, “are what I have called laughing-beans.’”</p> + +<p>“What are they for?” asked Bumpo.</p> + +<p>“To cause mirth,” said the Indian.</p> + +<p>Bumpo, while Long Arrow’s back was turned, +took three of the beans and swallowed them.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> +quarter of a one. Let us hope that he does not die +of laughter.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FOURTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE SEA-SERPENT</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The old parrot had grown very tired of the Indians +and she made no secret of it.</p> + +<p>“The very idea,” she said to me one day as we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> +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!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Do you really think,” I asked as we sat down +on the sands, “that he will never go back to Puddleby +again?”</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>It was a perfect Popsipetel day, bright and hot, +blue and yellow. Drowsily I looked out to sea<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>How long I slept after that I have no idea. I +was awakened by a gentle pecking on the nose.</p> + +<p>“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 <i>up</i>, for goodness’ +sake!”</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter?” I asked sitting up with a +yawn.</p> + +<p>“Sh!—Look!” whispered Polynesia pointing out +to sea.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span> +little waves of white. It could have belonged to +the wildest dream.</p> + +<p>“What in the world is it?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“That,” whispered Polynesia, “is what sailors +for hundreds of years have called the <i>Sea-serpent</i>. +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It moved very little. From time to time it lifted +its head out of the water showing its enormously<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“And don’t tell any of the Indians,” Polynesia<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> +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?”</p> + +<p>“Yes I did,” said the Doctor, “it shook down +part of the theatre I was building.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Can’t any of your people speak shellfish?” the +Doctor asked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Not a word,” said they. “It’s a most frightfully +difficult language.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think that you might be able to find me +some kind of a fish that could?”</p> + +<p>“We don’t know,” said the porpoises. “We +might try.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Well, if you wait here,” said the porpoises, +“we’ll see what can be done.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE FIFTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE SHELLFISH RIDDLE SOLVED AT LAST</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> +little patient examination we found to our delight +that he could speak shellfish moderately well.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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,</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“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 <i>always</i> 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?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the Doctor, “I suppose that’s true.”</p> + +<p>“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 <i>without any servants</i>, you understand—just +like a plain person. It’s called traveling incognito, +when kings go off like that. They all do it—It’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span> +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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SIXTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE LAST CABINET MEETING</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">FROM the way Polynesia talked, I guessed +that this idea of a holiday was part of her +plan.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>As soon as the doors were closed upon the Cabinet +Meeting that night, Polynesia addressed the +Ministry:</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“But what difference,” Bumpo asked, “is his taking +a holiday going to make?”</p> + +<p>Impatiently Polynesia turned upon the Minister of +the Interior.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span></p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that’s true. He’s far too consententious,” +Bumpo agreed.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“How thrilling!” I cried. “Do you mean the +snail could take us under the sea all the way back +to Puddleby?”</p> + +<p>“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—<i>and</i> if the snail will consent to give us the +ride.”</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“And got stuck on the mud-bank,” added Chee-Chee +in a dreamy, far-away voice.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Do you remember how all the people waved +to us from the river-wall?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes. And I suppose they’ve often talked about +us in the town since,” said Jip—“wondering whether +we’re dead or alive.”</p> + +<p>“Cease,” said Bumpo, “I feel I am about to weep +from sediment.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>THE SEVENTH CHAPTER</i><br /> + +<small>THE DOCTOR’S DECISION</small></h2> + + +<p class="drop-cap">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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>all</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Tiptoe incognito,” whispered Bumpo as we +gently closed the heavy doors behind us.</p> + +<p>No one had seen us leave.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>On our arrival at the beach we found the snail +already feeling much better and now able to move +his tail without pain.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a><br /><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span> +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?”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;"> +<img src="images/i-373.jpg" width="393" height="580" alt="sneaking away" /> +<div class="caption">“‘Tiptoe incognito,’ whispered Bumpo”</div> +</div> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Half an hour passed.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span></p> + +<p>“What <i>do</i> 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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Out of the darkness at my elbow Polynesia rose +and quietly moved down to his side.</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“What, steal away without even saying good-bye +to them! Why, Polynesia, what a thing to +suggest!”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>The truth of the old parrot’s words seemed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span> +be striking home; for the Doctor stood silent a minute, +thinking.</p> + +<p>“But there are the note-books,” he said presently: +“I would have to go back to fetch them.”</p> + +<p>“I have them here, Doctor,” said I, speaking up—“all +of them.”</p> + +<p>Again he pondered.</p> + +<p>“And Long Arrow’s collection,” he said. “I +would have to take that also with me.”</p> + +<p>“It is here, Oh Kindly One,” came the Indian’s +deep voice from the shadow beneath the palm.</p> + +<p>“But what about provisions,” asked the Doctor—“food +for the journey?”</p> + +<p>“We have a week’s supply with us, for our holiday,” +said Polynesia—“that’s more than we will +need.”</p> + +<p>For a third time the Doctor was silent and +thoughtful.</p> + +<p>“And then there’s my hat,” he said fretfully at +last. “That settles it: I’ll <i>have</i> 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?”</p> + +<p>“Here it is, Doctor,” said Bumpo producing the +hat, old, battered and beloved, from under his coat.</p> + +<p>Polynesia had indeed thought of everything.</p> + +<p>Yet even now we could see the Doctor was still +trying to think up further excuses.</p> + +<p>“Oh Kindly One,” said Long Arrow, “why tempt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>And when he spoke his voice was choked with +tears.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>He took his old hat from Bumpo; then facing +Long Arrow, gripped his outstretched hand in +silence.</p> + +<p>“You decide aright, oh Kindly One,” said the +Indian—“though none will miss and mourn you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span> +more than Long Arrow, the son of Golden Arrow—Farewell, +and may good fortune ever lead you by +the hand!”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Then turning in the direction of the East, the +great creature began moving smoothly forward, +down the slope into the deeper waters.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The rest of the story of our homeward voyage +is soon told.</p> + +<p>Our new quarters we found very satisfactory. +Inside the spacious shell, the snail’s wide back was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>In these lower levels we often came upon the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“I suppose they think we are a sort of sanaquarium,” +said Bumpo—“I’d hate to be a fish.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>How our giant shellfish found his way across<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>As a landscape, it was a great change from the +hot brilliant sunshine of Popsipetel.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” sighed Polynesia, shaking the rain off her +feathers, “this is England all right—You can tell +it by the beastly climate.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but fellows,” cried Jip, as he sniffed up the +air in great gulps, “it has a <i>smell</i>—a good and glorious +smell!—Excuse me a minute: I see a water-rat.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s hope,” I put in, “that Dab-Dab has a nice +fire burning in the kitchen.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sure she will,” said the Doctor as he picked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 446px;"> +<img src="images/i-384.jpg" width="446" height="193" alt="The End" /> +</div> +<hr class="full" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/endpapers.jpg" width="600" height="470" alt="Endpapers" /> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> +<div class="tnote"><div class="center"> +<b>Transcriber’s Notes:</b></div> + +<p>Varied hyphenation retained. Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + +<p>Page 20, “he” changed to “be” (Don’t be alarmed)</p> + +<p>Page 135, “shellflsh” changed to “shellfish” (of the shellfish)</p> + +<p>Page 137, “way” changed to “may” (come what may)</p> + +<p>Page 188, Part Four, <i>THE FIRST CHAPTER</i> made italic to +match rest of usage.</p> + +<p>Page 218, “is” changed to “it” (where it is)</p> + +<p>Page 249, “musn’t” changed to “mustn’t” (that he musn’t give)</p> + +<p>Page 324, “Polnesia” changed to “Polynesia” (whispered Polynesia)</p> + +<p>Page 347, “thoroughy” changed to “thoroughly” (thoroughly interested in)</p> + +<p>Page 357, “Poynesia” changed to “Polynesia” (said Polynesia—“that’s more)</p> +</div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1154 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/1154-h/images/cover.jpg b/1154-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3384016 --- /dev/null +++ b/1154-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/1154-h/images/decoration.jpg 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