by Hugh Lofting
They showed us also an enormous hanging stone perched on the edge ofa volcano’s crater—the highest summit in the whole island. Althoughit was very far below us, we could see it quite plainly; and it lookedwobbly enough to be pushed off its perch with the hand. There was alegend among the people, they said, that when the greatest of allPopsipetel kings should be crowned in the ivory chair, this hangingstone would tumble into the volcano’s mouth and go straight down to thecentre of the earth.
“The Whispering Rocks”]
The Doctor said he would like to go and examine it closer.
And when we were come to the lip of the volcano (it took us half aday to get up to it) we found the stone was unbelievably large—bigas a cathedral. Underneath it we could look right down into a blackhole which seemed to have no bottom. The Doctor explained to us thatvolcanoes sometimes spurted up fire from these holes in their tops; butthat those on floating islands were always cold and dead.
“Stubbins,” he said, looking up at the great stone towering above us,“do you know what would most likely happen if that boulder should fallin?”
“No,” said I, “what?”
“You remember the air-chamber which the porpoises told us lies underthe centre of the island?”
“Yes.”
“Well, this stone is heavy enough, if it fell into the volcano, tobreak through into that air-chamber from above. And once it did, theair would escape and the floating island would float no more. It wouldsink.”
“But then everybody on it would be drowned, wouldn’t they?” said Bumpo.
“Oh no, not necessarily. That would depend on the depth of the seawhere the sinking took place. The island might touch bottom when ithad only gone down, say, a hundred feet. But there would be lots of itstill sticking up above the water then, wouldn’t there?”
“Yes,” said Bumpo, “I suppose there would. Well, let us hope that theponderous fragment does _not_ lose its equilibriosity, for I don’tbelieve it would stop at the centre of the earth—more likely it wouldfall right through the world and come out the other side.”
Many other wonders there were which these men showed us in the centralregions of their island. But I have not time or space to tell you ofthem now.
Descending towards the shore again, we noticed that we were stillbeing watched, even here among the highlands, by the Bag-jagderagswho had followed us. And when we put to sea once more a boatload ofthem proceeded to go ahead of us in the direction of Popsipetel.Having lighter canoes, they traveled faster than our party; and wejudged that they should reach the village—if that was where they weregoing—many hours before we could.
The Doctor was now becoming anxious to see how Long Arrow was gettingon, so we all took turns at the paddles and went on traveling bymoonlight through the whole night.
We reached Popsipetel just as the dawn was breaking.
To our great surprise we found that not only we, but the whole villagealso, had been up all night. A great crowd was gathered about the deadchief’s house. And as we landed our canoes upon the beach we saw alarge number of old men, the seniors of the tribe, coming out at themain door.
We inquired what was the meaning of all this; and were told that theelection 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 yetbeen given out. It would be announced at mid-day.
As soon as the Doctor had paid a visit to Long Arrow and seen that hewas doing nicely, we proceeded to our own house at the far end of thevillage. Here we ate some breakfast and then lay down to take a goodrest.
Rest, indeed, we needed; for life had been strenuous and busy for usever since we had landed on the island. And it wasn’t many minutesafter our weary heads struck the pillows that the whole crew of us weresound asleep.
_THE NINTH CHAPTER_
THE ELECTION
WE were awakened by music. The glaring noonday sunlight was streamingin at our door, outside of which some kind of a band appeared to beplaying. We got up and looked out. Our house was surrounded by thewhole population of Popsipetel. We were used to having quite a numberof curious and admiring Indians waiting at our door at all hours;but this was quite different. The vast crowd was dressed in its bestclothes. Bright beads, gawdy feathers and gay blankets gave cheerfulcolor to the scene. Every one seemed in very good humor, singing orplaying on musical instruments—mostly painted wooden whistles or drumsmade from skins.
We found Polynesia—who while we slept had arrived back fromBag-jagderag—sitting on our door-post watching the show. We asked herwhat all the holiday-making was about.
“The result of the election has just been announced,” said she. “Thename of the new chief was given out at noon.”
“And who is the new chief?” asked the Doctor.
“You are,” said Polynesia quietly.
“_I!_” gasped the Doctor—“Well, of all things!”
“Yes,” said she. “You’re the one—And what’s more, they’ve changedyour surname for you. They didn’t think that Dolittle was a proper orrespectful name for a man who had done so much. So you are now to beknown as Jong Thinkalot. How do you like it?”
“But I don’t _want_ to be a chief,” said the Doctor in an irritablevoice.
“I’m afraid you’ll have hard work to get out of it now,” saidshe—“unless you’re willing to put to sea again in one of their ricketycanoes. You see you’ve been elected not merely the Chief of thePopsipetels; you’re to be a king—the King of the whole of SpidermonkeyIsland. The Bag-jagderags, who were so anxious to have you governthem, sent spies and messengers ahead of you; and when they found thatyou had been elected Chief of the Popsipetels overnight they werebitterly disappointed. However, rather than lose you altogether, theBag-jagderags were willing to give up their independence, and insistedthat they and their lands be united to the Popsipetels in order thatyou could be made king of both. So now you’re in for it.”
“Oh Lord!” groaned the Doctor, “I do wish they wouldn’t be soenthusiastic! Bother it, I don’t _want_ to be a king!”
“I should think, Doctor,” said I, “you’d feel rather proud and glad. Iwish _I_ had a chance to be a king.”
“Oh I know it sounds grand,” said he, pulling on his boots miserably.“But the trouble is, you can’t take up responsibilities and then justdrop 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 Ilanded on this island. I’ve been doing some one else’s business all thetime. And now they want me to go on doing it! Why, once I’m made Kingof the Popsipetels, that’s the end of me as a useful naturalist. I’d betoo busy for anything. All I’d be then is just a er—er—just a king.”
“Well, that’s something!” said Bumpo. “My father is a king and has ahundred and twenty wives.”
“That would make it worse,” said the Doctor—“a hundred and twenty timesworse. I have my work to do. I don’t want to be a king.”
“Look,” said Polynesia, “here come the head men to announce yourelection. Hurry up and get your boots laced.”
The throng before our door had suddenly parted asunder, making a longlane; 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, carriedin his hands a wooden crown—a truly beautiful and gorgeous crown, eventhough of wood. Wonderfully carved and painted, it had two lovely bluefeathers springing from the front of it. Behind the old man came eightstrong Indians bearing a litter, a sort of chair with long handlesunderneath to carry it by.
Kneeling down on one knee, bending his head almost to the ground, theold man addressed the Doctor who now stood in the doorway putting onhis collar and tie.
“Oh, Mighty One,” said he, “we bring you word from the Popsipetelpeople. Great are your deeds beyond belief, kind is your heart and yourwisdom, deeper than the sea. Our chief is dead. The people clamor for aworthy leader. Our old enemies, the Bag-jagderags are become, throughyou, our
brothers and good friends. They too desire to bask beneath thesunshine of your smile. Behold then, I bring to you the Sacred Crown ofPopsipetel which, since ancient days when this island and its peopleswere one, beneath one monarch, has rested on no kingly brow. Oh KindlyOne, we are bidden by the united voices of the peoples of this land tocarry you to the Whispering Rocks, that there, with all respect andmajesty, you may be crowned our king—King of all the Moving Land.”
The good Indians did not seem to have even considered the possibilityof John Dolittle’s refusing. As for the poor Doctor, I never saw him soupset by anything. It was in fact the only time I have known him toget thoroughly fussed.
“Oh dear!” I heard him murmur, looking around wildly for some escape.“What _shall_ I do?—Did any of you see where I laid that stud ofmine?—How on earth can I get this collar on without a stud? What a daythis is, to be sure!—Maybe it rolled under the bed, Bumpo—I do thinkthey might have given me a day or so to think it over in. Who everheard of waking a man right out of his sleep, and telling him he’s gotto be a king, before he has even washed his face? Can’t any of you findit? Maybe you’re standing on it, Bumpo. Move your feet.”
“Oh don’t bother about your stud,” said Polynesia. “You will have to becrowned without a collar. They won’t know the difference.”
“I tell you I’m not going to be crowned,” cried the Doctor—“not if Ican help it. I’ll make them a speech. Perhaps that will satisfy them.”
He turned back to the Indians at the door.
“My friends,” he said, “I am not worthy of this great honor you woulddo me. Little or no skill have I in the arts of kingcraft. Assuredlyamong your own brave men you will find many better fitted to lead you.For this compliment, this confidence and trust, I thank you. But, Ipray you, do not think of me for such high duties which I could notpossibly fulfil.”
The old man repeated his words to the people behind him in a loudervoice. Stolidly they shook their heads, moving not an inch. The old manturned back to the Doctor.
“You are the chosen one,” said he. “They will have none but you.”
Into the Doctor’s perplexed face suddenly there came a flash of hope.
“I’ll go and see Long Arrow,” he whispered to me. “Perhaps he will knowof some way to get me out of this.”
And asking the personages to excuse him a moment, he left them there,standing at his door, and hurried off in the direction of Long Arrow’shouse. I followed him.
We found our big friend lying on a grass bed outside his home, where hehad been moved that he might witness the holiday-making.
“Long Arrow,” said the Doctor speaking quickly in eagle tongue sothat the bystanders should not overhear, “in dire peril I come to youfor help. These men would make me their king. If such a thing befallme, all the great work I hoped to do must go undone, for who is thereunfreer than a king? I pray you speak with them and persuade their kindwell-meaning hearts that what they plan to do would be unwise.”
Long Arrow raised himself upon his elbow.
“Oh Kindly One,” said he (this seemed now to have become the usualmanner of address when speaking to the Doctor), “sorely it grieves methat the first wish you ask of me I should be unable to grant. Alas! Ican do nothing. These people have so set their hearts on keeping youfor king that if I tried to interfere they would drive me from theirland 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 thatyou may have time to give to Nature’s secrets. Later we may be able tohit upon some plan to relieve you of the burden of the crown. But fornow you must be king. These people are a headstrong tribe and they willhave their way. There is no other course.”
Sadly the Doctor turned away from the bed and faced about. And therebehind him stood the old man again, the crown still held in hiswrinkled hands and the royal litter waiting at his elbow. With a deepreverence the bearers motioned towards the seat of the chair, invitingthe white man to get in.
Once more the poor Doctor looked wildly, hopelessly about him forsome means of escape. For a moment I thought he was going to take tohis heels and run for it. But the crowd around us was far too thickand densely packed for anyone to break through it. A band of whistlesand drums near by suddenly started the music of a solemn processionalmarch. He turned back pleadingly again to Long Arrow in a last appealfor help. But the big Indian merely shook his head and pointed, likethe bearers, to the waiting chair.
At last, almost in tears, John Dolittle stepped slowly into the litterand sat down. As he was hoisted on to the broad shoulders of thebearers I heard him still feebly muttering beneath his breath,
“Botheration take it!—I don’t _want_ to be a king!”
“Farewell!” called Long Arrow from his bed, “and may good fortune everstand within the shadow of your throne!”
“He comes!—He comes!” murmured the crowd. “Away! Away!—To theWhispering Rocks!”
And as the procession formed up to leave the village, the crowd aboutus began hurrying off in the direction of the mountains to make sure ofgood seats in the giant theatre where the crowning ceremony would takeplace.
_THE TENTH CHAPTER_
THE CORONATION OF KING JONG
IN my long lifetime I have seen many grand and inspiring things, butnever anything that impressed me half as much as the sight of theWhispering Rocks as they looked on the day King Jong was crowned. AsBumpo, Chee-Chee, Polynesia, Jip and I finally reached the dizzy edgeof the great bowl and looked down inside it, it was like gazing overa never-ending ocean of copper-colored faces; for every seat in thetheatre was filled, every man, woman and child in the island—includingLong Arrow who had been carried up on his sick bed—was there to see theshow.
Yet not a sound, not a pin-drop, disturbed the solemn silence of theWhispering Rocks. It was quite creepy and sent chills running up anddown your spine. Bumpo told me afterwards that it took his breath awaytoo much for him to speak, but that he hadn’t known before that therewere that many people in the world.
Away down by the Table of the Throne stood a brand-new, brightlycolored totem-pole. All the Indian families had totem-poles and keptthem set up before the doors of their houses. The idea of a totem-poleis something like a door-plate or a visiting card. It represents in itscarvings the deeds and qualities of the family to which it belongs.This one, beautifully decorated and much higher than any other, was theDolittle or, as it was to be henceforth called, the Royal Thinkalottotem. It had nothing but animals on it, to signify the Doctor’s greatknowledge of creatures. And the animals chosen to be shown were thosewhich to the Indians were supposed to represent good qualities ofcharacter, such as, the deer for speed; the ox for perseverance; thefish for discretion, and so on. But at the top of the totem is alwaysplaced the sign or animal by which the family is most proud to beknown. This, on the Thinkalot pole, was an enormous parrot, in memoryof the famous Peace of the Parrots.
The Ivory Throne had been all polished with scented oil and itglistened whitely in the strong sunlight. At the foot of it there hadbeen strewn great quantities of branches of flowering trees, which withthe new warmth of milder climates were now blossoming in the valleys ofthe island.
Soon we saw the royal litter, with the Doctor seated in it, slowlyascending the winding steps of the Table. Reaching the flat top atlast, it halted and the Doctor stepped out upon the flowery carpet. Sostill and perfect was the silence that even at that distance above Idistinctly heard a twig snap beneath his tread.
Walking to the throne accompanied by the old man, the Doctor got upupon the stand and sat down. How tiny his little round figure lookedwhen seen from that tremendous height! The throne had been made forlonger-legged kings; and when he was seated, his feet did not reach theground but dangled six inches from the top step.
Then the old man turned round and looking up at the people began tospeak in a quiet even voice; but every word he said was easily heard inthe furthest corner of the Whispering Rocks.
First he recited the names of all the great Popsipetel kings whoin days long ago had been crowned in this ivory chair. He spoke ofthe greatness of the Popsipetel people, of their triumphs, of theirhardships. Then waving his hand towards the Doctor he began recountingthe things which this king-to-be had done. And I am bound to say thatthey easily outmatched the deeds of those who had gone before him.
As soon as he started to speak of what the Doctor had achieved for thetribe, the people, still strictly silent, all began waving their righthands towards the throne. This gave to the vast theatre a very singularappearance: acres and acres of something moving—with never a sound.
At last the old man finished his speech and stepping up to the chair,very respectfully removed the Doctor’s battered high hat. He was aboutto put it upon the ground; but the Doctor took it from him hastily andkept it on his lap. Then taking up the Sacred Crown he placed it uponJohn Dolittle’s head. It did not fit very well (for it had been madefor smaller-headed kings), and when the wind blew in freshly from thesunlit sea the Doctor had some difficulty in keeping it on. But itlooked very splendid.
Turning once more to the people, the old man said,
“Men of Popsipetel, behold your elected king!—Are you content?”
And then at last the voice of the people broke loose.
“JONG! JONG!” they shouted, “LONG LIVE KING JONG!”
The sound burst upon the solemn silence with the crash of a hundredcannon. There, where even a whisper carried miles, the shock of it waslike a blow in the face. Back and forth the mountains threw it to oneanother. I thought the echoes of it would never die away as it passedrumbling through the whole island, jangling among the lower valleys,booming in the distant sea-caves.