The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle

by Hugh Lofting

  “These,” said he, taking up a little packet of big seeds, “are what Ihave called laughing-beans.’”

  “What are they for?” asked Bumpo.

  “To cause mirth,” said the Indian.

  Bumpo, while Long Arrow’s back was turned, took three of the beans andswallowed them.

  “Alas!” said the Indian when he discovered what Bumpo had done. “If hewished to try the powers of these seeds he should have eaten no morethan a quarter of a one. Let us hope that he does not die of laughter.”

  The beans’ effect upon Bumpo was most extraordinary. First he brokeinto a broad smile; then he began to giggle; finally he burst intosuch prolonged roars of hearty laughter that we had to carry him intothe next room and put him to bed. The Doctor said afterwards that heprobably would have died laughing if he had not had such a strongconstitution. All through the night he gurgled happily in his sleep.And even when we woke him up the next morning he rolled out of bedstill chuckling.

  Returning to the Reception Room, we were shown some red roots whichLong Arrow told us had the property, when made into a soup with sugarand salt, of causing people to dance with extraordinary speed andendurance. He asked us to try them; but we refused, thanking him. AfterBumpo’s exhibition we were a little afraid of any more experiments forthe present.

  There was no end to the curious and useful things that Long Arrowhad collected: an oil from a vine which would make hair grow in onenight; an orange as big as a pumpkin which he had raised in his ownmountain-garden in Peru; a black honey (he had brought the bees thatmade it too and the seeds of the flowers they fed on) which would putyou to sleep, just with a teaspoonful, and make you wake up freshin the morning; a nut that made the voice beautiful for singing;a water-weed that stopped cuts from bleeding; a moss that curedsnake-bite; a lichen that prevented sea-sickness.

  The Doctor of course was tremendously interested. Well into the earlyhours of the morning he was busy going over the articles on the tableone by one, listing their names and writing their properties anddescriptions into a note-book as Long Arrow dictated.

  “There are things here, Stubbins,” he said as he ended, “which in thehands of skilled druggists will make a vast difference to the medicineand chemistry of the world. I suspect that this sleeping-honey byitself will take the place of half the bad drugs we have had to use sofar. Long Arrow has discovered a pharmacopæia of his own. Miranda wasright: he is a great naturalist. His name deserves to be placed besideLinnæus. Some day I must get all these things to England—But when,” headded sadly—“Yes, that’s the problem: when?”

  _THE FOURTH CHAPTER_

  THE SEA-SERPENT

  FOR a long time after that Cabinet Meeting of which I have just toldyou we did not ask the Doctor anything further about going home. Lifein Spidermonkey Island went forward, month in month out, busily andpleasantly. The Winter, with Christmas celebrations, came and went, andSummer was with us once again before we knew it.

  As time passed the Doctor became more and more taken up with the careof his big family; and the hours he could spare for his natural historywork grew fewer and fewer. I knew that he often still thought of hishouse and garden in Puddleby and of his old plans and ambitions;because once in a while we would notice his face grow thoughtful and alittle sad, when something reminded him of England or his old life. Buthe never spoke of these things. And I truly believe he would have spentthe remainder of his days on Spidermonkey Island if it hadn’t been foran accident—and for Polynesia.

  The old parrot had grown very tired of the Indians and she made nosecret of it.

  “The very idea,” she said to me one day as we were walking on theseashore—“the idea of the famous John Dolittle spending his valuablelife waiting on these greasy natives!—Why, it’s preposterous!”

  All that morning we had been watching the Doctor superintend thebuilding of the new theatre in Popsipetel—there was already anopera-house and a concert-hall; and finally she had got so grouchy andannoyed at the sight that I had suggested her taking a walk with me.

  “Do you really think,” I asked as we sat down on the sands, “that hewill never go back to Puddleby again?”

  “I don’t know,” said she. “At one time I felt sure that the thoughtof 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 allright there, that hope’s gone. For months and months I’ve been rackingmy brains to think up a plan. If we could only hit upon something thatwould turn his thoughts back to natural history again—I mean somethingbig enough to get him really excited—we might manage it. But how?”—sheshrugged her shoulders in disgust—“How?—when all he thinks of now ispaving streets and teaching papooses that twice one are two!”

  It was a perfect Popsipetel day, bright and hot, blue and yellow.Drowsily I looked out to sea thinking of my mother and father. Iwondered if they were getting anxious over my long absence. Beside meold Polynesia went on grumbling away in low steady tones; and her wordsbegan to mingle and mix with the gentle lapping of the waves upon theshore. It may have been the even murmur of her voice, helped by thesoft and balmy air, that lulled me to sleep. I don’t know. Anyhow Ipresently dreamed that the island had moved again—not floatingly asbefore, but suddenly, jerkily, as though something enormously powerfulhad heaved it up from its bed just once and let it down.

  How long I slept after that I have no idea. I was awakened by a gentlepecking on the nose.

  “Tommy!—Tommy!” (it was Polynesia’s voice) “Wake up!—Gosh, what a boy,to sleep through an earthquake and never notice it!—Tommy, listen:here’s our chance now. Wake _up_, for goodness’ sake!”

  “What’s the matter?” I asked sitting up with a yawn.

  “Sh!—Look!” whispered Polynesia pointing out to sea.

  Still only half awake, I stared before me with bleary, sleep-ladeneyes. And in the shallow water, not more than thirty yards from shoreI saw an enormous pale pink shell. Dome-shaped, it towered up in agraceful rainbow curve to a tremendous height; and round its base thesurf broke gently in little waves of white. It could have belonged tothe wildest dream.

  “What in the world is it?” I asked.

  “That,” whispered Polynesia, “is what sailors for hundreds of yearshave called the _Sea-serpent_. I’ve seen it myself more than once fromthe 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 thatthe Sea-serpent of history is no other than the Great Glass Sea-snailthat the fidgit told us of. If that isn’t the only fish of its kind inthe seven seas, call me a carrion-crow—Tommy, we’re in luck. Our jobis to get the Doctor down here to look at that prize specimen beforeit moves off to the Deep Hole. If we can, then trust me, we may leavethis blessed island yet. You stay here and keep an eye on it while Igo after the Doctor. Don’t move or speak—don’t even breathe heavy: hemight get scared—awful timid things, snails. Just watch him; and I’llbe back in two shakes.”

  Stealthily creeping up the sands till she could get behind the coverof some bushes before she took to her wings, Polynesia went off inthe direction of the town; while I remained alone upon the shorefascinatedly watching this unbelievable monster wallowing in theshallow sea.

  It moved very little. From time to time it lifted its head out of thewater showing its enormously long neck and horns. Occasionally itwould try and draw itself up, the way a snail does when he goes tomove, but almost at once it would sink down again as if exhausted. Itseemed to me to act as though it were hurt underneath; but the lowerpart of it, which was below the level of the water, I could not see.

  I was still absorbed in watching the great beast when Polynesiareturned with the Doctor. They approached so silently and so cautiouslythat I neither saw nor heard them coming till I found them crouchingbeside me on the sand.

  One sight of the snail changed the Doctor completely. His eyes justsparkled with delight. I had not seen him so thrilled and happy sincethe time we caught the J
abizri beetle when we first landed on theisland.

  “It is he!” he whispered—“the Great Glass Sea-snail himself—not a doubtof it. Polynesia, go down the shore a way and see if you can find anyof the porpoises for me. Perhaps they can tell us what the snail isdoing 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. Butbe most careful how you paddle it round into this bay. If the snailshould take fright and go out into the deeper water, we may never get achance to see him again.”

  “And don’t tell any of the Indians,” Polynesia added in a whisper asI moved to go. “We must keep this a secret or we’ll have a crowd ofsightseers round here in five minutes. It’s mighty lucky we found thesnail in a quiet bay.”

  Reaching the harbor, I picked out a small light canoe from among thenumber that were lying there and without telling any one what I wantedit for, got in and started off to paddle it down the shore.

  I was mortally afraid that the snail might have left before I got back.And you can imagine how delighted I was, when I rounded a rocky capeand came in sight of the bay, to find he was still there.

  Polynesia, I saw, had got her errand done and returned ahead of me,bringing with her a pair of porpoises. These were already conversing inlow tones with John Dolittle. I beached the canoe and went up to listen.

  “What I want to know,” the Doctor was saying, “is how the snail comesto be here. I was given to understand that he usually stayed in theDeep Hole; and that when he did come to the surface it was always inmid-ocean.”

  “Oh, didn’t you know?—Haven’t you heard?” the porpoises replied: “youcovered up the Deep Hole when you sank the island. Why yes: you let itdown right on top of the mouth of the Hole—sort of put the lid on, asit were. The fishes that were in it at the time have been trying to getout ever since. The Great Snail had the worst luck of all: the islandnipped him by the tail just as he was leaving the Hole for a quietevening stroll. And he was held there for six months trying to wrigglehimself free. Finally he had to heave the whole island up at one end toget his tail loose. Didn’t you feel a sort of an earthquake shock aboutan hour ago?”

  “Yes I did,” said the Doctor, “it shook down part of the theatre I wasbuilding.”

  “Well, that was the snail heaving up the island to get out of theHole,” they said. “All the other fishes saw their chance and escapedwhen 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 musclein his tail and it started swelling rather badly. He wanted some quietplace to rest up; and seeing this soft beach handy he crawled in here.”

  “Dear me!” said the Doctor. “I’m terribly sorry. I suppose I shouldhave given some sort of notice that the island was going to be letdown. But, to tell the truth, we didn’t know it ourselves; it happenedby a kind of an accident. Do you imagine the poor fellow is hurt verybadly?”

  “We’re not sure,” said the porpoises; “because none of us can speak hislanguage. But we swam right around him on our way in here, and he didnot seem to be really seriously injured.”

  “Can’t any of your people speak shellfish?” the Doctor asked.

  “Not a word,” said they. “It’s a most frightfully difficult language.”

  “Do you think that you might be able to find me some kind of a fishthat could?”

  “We don’t know,” said the porpoises. “We might try.”

  “I should be extremely grateful to you if you would,” said the Doctor.“There are many important questions I want to ask this snail—Andbesides, I would like to do my best to cure his tail for him. It’s theleast I can do. After all, it was my fault, indirectly, that he gothurt.”

  “Well, if you wait here,” said the porpoises, “we’ll see what can bedone.”

  _THE FIFTH CHAPTER_

  THE SHELLFISH RIDDLE SOLVED AT LAST

  SO Doctor Dolittle with a crown on his head sat down upon the shorelike King Knut, and waited. And for a whole hour the porpoises keptgoing and coming, bringing up different kinds of sea-beasts from thedeep to see if they could help him.

  Many and curious were the creatures they produced. It would seemhowever that there were very few things that spoke shellfish exceptthe shellfish themselves. Still, the porpoises grew a little morehopeful when they discovered a very old sea-urchin (a funny, ball-like,little fellow with long whiskers all over him) who said he could notspeak pure shellfish, but he used to understand starfish—enough to getalong—when he was young. This was coming nearer, even if it wasn’tanything to go crazy about. Leaving the urchin with us, the porpoiseswent off once more to hunt up a starfish.

  They were not long getting one, for they were quite common in thoseparts. Then, using the sea-urchin as an interpreter, they questionedthe starfish. He was a rather stupid sort of creature; but he tried hisbest to be helpful. And after a little patient examination we found toour delight that he could speak shellfish moderately well.

  Feeling quite encouraged, the Doctor and I now got into the canoe; and,with the porpoises, the urchin and the starfish swimming alongside, wepaddled very gently out till we were close under the towering shell ofthe Great Snail.

  And then began the most curious conversation I have ever witnessed.First the starfish would ask the snail something; and whatever answerthe snail gave, the starfish would tell it to the sea-urchin, theurchin would tell it to the porpoises and the porpoises would tell itto the Doctor.

  In this way we obtained considerable information, mostly about the veryancient history of the Animal Kingdom; but we missed a good many of thefiner points in the snail’s longer speeches on account of the stupidityof the starfish and all this translating from one language to another.

  While the snail was speaking, the Doctor and I put our ears against thewall of his shell and found that we could in this way hear the sound ofhis voice quite plainly. It was, as the fidgit had described, deep andbell-like. But of course we could not understand a single word he said.However the Doctor was by this time terrifically excited about gettingnear to learning the language he had sought so long. And presently bymaking the other fishes repeat over and over again short phrases whichthe snail used, he began to put words together for himself. You see,he was already familiar with one or two fish languages; and that helpedhim quite a little. After he had practised for a while like this heleant over the side of the canoe and putting his face below the water,tried speaking to the snail direct.

  It was hard and difficult work; and hours went by before he got anyresults. But presently I could tell by the happy look on his face thatlittle by little he was succeeding.

  The sun was low in the West and the cool evening breeze was beginningto rustle softly through the bamboo-groves when the Doctor finallyturned from his work and said to me,

  “Stubbins, I have persuaded the snail to come in on to the dry part ofthe beach and let me examine his tail. Will you please go back to thetown 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 itunder the throne in the Audience Chamber.”

  “And remember,” Polynesia whispered as I turned away, “not a word toa soul. If you get asked questions, keep your mouth shut. Pretend youhave a toothache or something.”

  This time when I got back to the shore—with the medicine-bag—I foundthe snail high and dry on the beach. Seeing him in his full length likethis, it was easy to understand how old-time, superstitious sailorshad called him the Sea-serpent. He certainly was a most gigantic, andin his way, a graceful, beautiful creature. John Dolittle was examininga swelling on his tail.

  From the bag which I had brought the Doctor took a large bottle ofembrocation and began rubbing the sprain. Next he took all the bandageshe 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 enormoustail. The Doctor insisted that he must get the swelling strapped tightsomehow. So he sent me off to the pala
ce once more to get all thesheets from the Royal Linen-closet. These Polynesia and I tore intobandages for him. And at last, after terrific exertions, we got thesprain strapped to his satisfaction.

  The snail really seemed to be quite pleased with the attention he hadreceived; and he stretched himself in lazy comfort when the Doctor wasdone. In this position, when the shell on his back was empty, you couldlook right through it and see the palm-trees on the other side.

  “I think one of us had better sit up with him all night,” said theDoctor. “We might put Bumpo on that duty; he’s been napping all day, Iknow—in the summer-house. It’s a pretty bad sprain, that; and if thesnail shouldn’t be able to sleep, he’ll be happier with some one withhim for company. He’ll get all right though—in a few days I shouldjudge. If I wasn’t so confoundedly busy I’d sit up with him myself. Iwish I could, because I still have a lot of things to talk over withhim.”

  “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 thewhile—every one of them. King Charles, for instance—of course Charleswas before your time—but he!—why, he was _always_ holiday-making. Notthat 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 inthe fish-pond at Hampton Court. As a king, the only thing I had againsthim was his inventing those stupid, little, snappy dogs they call KingCharles Spaniels. There are lots of stories told about poor Charles;but that, in my opinion, is the worst thing he did. However, all thisis beside the point. As I was saying, kings have to take holidays thesame as anybody else. And you haven’t taken one since you were crowned,have you now?”