The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle

by Hugh Lofting

  “Poor Miranda! What a time you must have had!” said the Doctor. “Buttell me, were you able to find out whereabouts Long Arrow was lastseen?”

  “Yes. A young albatross told me he had seen him on Spidermonkey Island?”

  “Spidermonkey Island? That’s somewhere off the coast of Brazil, isn’tit?”

  “Yes, that’s it. Of course I flew there right away and asked every birdon the island—and it is a big island, a hundred miles long. It seemsthat Long Arrow was visiting some peculiar Indians that live there;and that when last seen he was going up into the mountains looking forrare medicine-plants. I got that from a tame hawk, a pet, which theChief of the Indians keeps for hunting partridges with. I nearly gotcaught and put in a cage for my pains too. That’s the worst of havingbeautiful feathers: it’s as much as your life is worth to go near mosthumans—They say, ‘oh how pretty!’ and shoot an arrow or a bullet intoyou. You and Long Arrow were the only two men that I would ever trustmyself near—out of all the people in the world.”

  “But was he never known to have returned from the mountains?”

  “No. That was the last that was seen or heard of him. I questioned thesea-birds around the shores to find out if he had left the island in acanoe. But they could tell me nothing.”

  “Do you think that some accident has happened to him?” asked the Doctorin a fearful voice.

  “I’m afraid it must have,” said Miranda shaking her head.

  “Well,” said John Dolittle slowly, “if I could never meet Long Arrowface to face it would be the greatest disappointment in my wholelife. Not only that, but it would be a great loss to the knowledge ofthe human race. For, from what you have told me of him, he knew morenatural science than all the rest of us put together; and if he hasgone without any one to write it down for him, so the world may be thebetter for it, it would be a terrible thing. But you don’t reallythink that he is dead, do you?”

  “‘What else can I think?’”]

  “What else can I think?” asked Miranda, bursting into tears, “when forsix whole months he has not been seen by flesh, fish or fowl.”

  _THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER_

  BLIND TRAVEL

  THIS news about Long Arrow made us all very sad. And I could see fromthe silent dreamy way the Doctor took his tea that he was dreadfullyupset. Every once in a while he would stop eating altogether and sitstaring at the spots on the kitchen table-cloth as though his thoughtswere far away; till Dab-Dab, who was watching to see that he got a goodmeal, would cough or rattle the pots in the sink.

  I did my best to cheer him up by reminding him of all he had done forLuke and his wife that afternoon. And when that didn’t seem to work, Iwent on talking about our preparations for the voyage.

  “But you see, Stubbins,” said he as we rose from the table and Dab-Daband Chee-Chee began to clear away, “I don’t know where to go now. Ifeel sort of lost since Miranda brought me this news. On this voyage Ihad planned going to see Long Arrow. I had been looking forward to itfor a whole year. I felt he might help me in learning the language ofthe shellfish—and perhaps in finding some way of getting to the bottomof the sea. But now?—He’s gone! And all his great knowledge has gonewith him.”

  Then he seemed to fall a-dreaming again.

  “Just to think of it!” he murmured. “Long Arrow and I, twostudents—Although I’d never met him, I felt as though I knew him quitewell. For, in his way—without any schooling—he has, all his life, beentrying to do the very things which I have tried to do in mine—And nowhe’s gone!—A whole world lay between us—And only a bird knew us both!”

  We went back into the study, where Jip brought the Doctor his slippersand his pipe. And after the pipe was lit and the smoke began to fillthe room the old man seemed to cheer up a little.

  “But you will go on some voyage, Doctor, won’t you?” I asked—“even ifyou can’t go to find Long Arrow.”

  He looked up sharply into my face; and I suppose he saw how anxious Iwas. Because he suddenly smiled his old, boyish smile and said,

  “Yes, Stubbins. Don’t worry. We’ll go. We mustn’t stop working andlearning, even if poor Long Arrow has disappeared—But where to go:that’s the question. Where shall we go?”

  There were so many places that I wanted to go that I couldn’t make upmy mind right away. And while I was still thinking, the Doctor sat upin his chair and said,

  “I tell you what we’ll do, Stubbins: it’s a game I used to play when Iwas young—before Sarah came to live with me. I used to call it BlindTravel. Whenever I wanted to go on a voyage, and I couldn’t make up mymind 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 onwhatever page had fallen open. Then I’d open my eyes and look. It’s avery exciting game, is Blind Travel. Because you have to swear, beforeyou begin, that you will go to the place the pencil touches, come whatmay. Shall we play it?”

  “Oh, let’s!” I almost yelled. “How thrilling! I hope it’s China—orBorneo—or Bagdad.”

  And in a moment I had scrambled up the bookcase, dragged the big atlasfrom the top shelf and laid it on the table before the Doctor.

  I knew every page in that atlas by heart. How many days and nights Ihad lingered over its old faded maps, following the blue rivers fromthe mountains to the sea; wondering what the little towns really lookedlike, and how wide were the sprawling lakes! I had had a lot of funwith that atlas, traveling, in my mind, all over the world. I can seeit now: the first page had no map; it just told you that it was printedin Edinburgh in 1808, and a whole lot more about the book. The nextpage was the Solar System, showing the sun and planets, the stars andthe moon. The third page was the chart of the North and South Poles.Then came the hemispheres, the oceans, the continents and the countries.

  As the Doctor began sharpening his pencil a thought came to me.

  “What if the pencil falls upon the North Pole,” I asked, “will we haveto go there?”

  “No. The rules of the game say you don’t have to go any place you’vebeen to before. You are allowed another try. I’ve been to the NorthPole,” he ended quietly, “so we shan’t have to go there.”

  I could hardly speak with astonishment.

  “_You’ve been to the North pole!_” I managed to gasp out at last. “ButI thought it was still undiscovered. The map shows all the placesexplorers have reached to, _trying_ to get there. Why isn’t your namedown if you discovered it?”

  “I promised to keep it a secret. And you must promise me never totell any one. Yes, I discovered the North Pole in April, 1809. Butshortly after I got there the polar bears came to me in a body andtold me there was a great deal of coal there, buried beneath the snow.They knew, they said, that human beings would do anything, and goanywhere, to get coal. So would I please keep it a secret. Becauseonce people began coming up there to start coal-mines, their beautifulwhite country would be spoiled—and there was nowhere else in the worldcold enough for polar bears to be comfortable. So of course I had topromise 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-groundto themselves as long as possible. And I daresay it will be a goodwhile yet—for it certainly is a fiendish place to get to—Well now, arewe ready?—Good! Take the pencil and stand here close to the table. Whenthe book falls open, wave the pencil round three times and jab it down.Ready?—All right. Shut your eyes.”

  It was a tense and fearful moment—but very thrilling. We both had oureyes shut tight. I heard the atlas fall open with a bang. I wonderedwhat page it was: England or Asia. If it should be the map of Asia, somuch would depend on where that pencil would land. I waved three timesin a circle. I began to lower my hand. The pencil-point touched thepage.

  “All right,” I called out, “it’s done.”

  _THE TWELFTH CHAPTER_

  DESTINY AND DESTINATION

  WE both opened our eyes; then bumped our heads together with a crack inour eagerness to lea
n over and see where we were to go.

  The atlas lay open at a map called, _Chart of the South AtlanticOcean_. My pencil-point was resting right in the center of a tinyisland. The name of it was printed so small that the Doctor had to getout his strong spectacles to read it. I was trembling with excitement.

  “_Spidermonkey Island_,” he read out slowly. Then he whistled softlybeneath his breath. “Of all the extraordinary things! You’ve hit uponthe very island where Long Arrow was last seen on earth—I wonder—Well,well! How very singular!”

  “We’ll go there, Doctor, won’t we?” I asked.

  “Of course we will. The rules of the game say we’ve got to.”

  “I’m so glad it wasn’t Oxenthorpe or Bristol,” I said. “It’ll be agrand voyage, this. Look at all the sea we’ve got to cross. Will ittake us long?”

  “Oh, no,” said the Doctor—“not very. With a good boat and a good windwe 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 eyesshut. Spidermonkey Island after all!—Well, there’s one good thing aboutit: I shall be able to get some Jabizri beetles.”

  “What are Jabizri beetles?”

  “They are a very rare kind of beetles with peculiar habits. I want tostudy them. There are only three countries in the world where they areto be found. Spidermonkey Island is one of them. But even there theyare very scarce.”

  “What is this little question-mark after the name of the island for?” Iasked, pointing to the map.

  “That means that the island’s position in the ocean is not known veryexactly—that it is somewhere _about_ there. Ships have probably seen itin that neighborhood, that is all, most likely. It is quite possible weshall be the first white men to land there. But I daresay we shall havesome difficulty in finding it first.”

  How like a dream it all sounded! The two of us sitting there at the bigstudy-table; the candles lit; the smoke curling towards the dim ceilingfrom the Doctor’s pipe—the two of us sitting there, talking aboutfinding an island in the ocean and being the first white men to landupon it!

  “I’ll bet it will be a great voyage,” I said. “It looks a lovelyisland on the map. Will there be black men there?”

  “No. A peculiar tribe of Red Indians lives on it, Miranda tells me.”

  At this point the poor Bird-of-Paradise stirred and woke up. In ourexcitement we had forgotten to speak low.

  “We are going to Spidermonkey Island, Miranda,” said the Doctor. “Youknow where it is, do you not?”

  “I know where it was the last time I saw it,” said the bird. “Butwhether it will be there still, I can’t say.”

  “What do you mean?” asked the Doctor. “It is always in the same placesurely?”

  “Not by any means,” said Miranda. “Why, didn’t you know?—SpidermonkeyIsland is a _floating_ island. It moves around all over theplace—usually somewhere near southern South America. But of course Icould surely find it for you if you want to go there.”

  At this fresh piece of news I could contain myself no longer. I wasbursting to tell some one. I ran dancing and singing from the room tofind Chee-Chee.

  At the door I tripped over Dab-Dab, who was just coming in with herwings full of plates, and fell headlong on my nose.

  “Has the boy gone crazy?” cried the duck. “Where do you think you’regoing, ninny?”

  “To Spidermonkey Island!” I shouted, picking myself up and doingcart-wheels down the hall—“Spidermonkey Island! Hooray!—And it’s a_floating_ island!”

  “You’re going to Bedlam, I should say,” snorted the housekeeper. “Lookwhat you’ve done to my best china!”

  But I was far too happy to listen to her scolding; and I ran on,singing, into the kitchen to find Chee-Chee.

  PART THREE

  _THE FIRST CHAPTER_

  THE THIRD MAN

  THAT same week we began our preparations for the voyage.

  Joe, the mussel-man, had the _Curlew_ moved down the river and tied itup along the river-wall, so it would be more handy for loading. And forthree whole days we carried provisions down to our beautiful new boatand stowed them away.

  I was surprised to find how roomy and big she was inside. There werethree little cabins, a saloon (or dining-room) and underneath all this,a big place called the hold where the food and extra sails and otherthings were kept.

  I think Joe must have told everybody in the town about our comingvoyage, because there was always a regular crowd watching us when webrought the things down to put aboard. And of course sooner or laterold Matthew Mugg was bound to turn up.

  “My Goodness, Tommy,” said he, as he watched me carrying on some sacksof flour, “but that’s a pretty boat! Where might the Doctor be goingto this voyage?”

  “We’re going to Spidermonkey Island,” I said proudly.

  “And be you the only one the Doctor’s taking along?”

  “Well, he has spoken of wanting to take another man,” I said; “but sofar he hasn’t made up his mind.”

  Matthew grunted; then squinted up at the graceful masts of the _Curlew_.

  “You know, Tommy,” said he, “if it wasn’t for my rheumatism I’ve halfa mind to come with the Doctor myself. There’s something about a boatstanding ready to sail that always did make me feel venturesome andtravelish-like. What’s that stuff in the cans you’re taking on?”

  “This is treacle,” I said—“twenty pounds of treacle.”

  “My Goodness,” he sighed, turning away sadly. “That makes me feel morelike going with you than ever—But my rheumatism is that bad I can’thardly—”

  I didn’t hear any more for Matthew had moved off, still mumbling, intothe crowd that stood about the wharf. The clock in Puddleby Churchstruck noon and I turned back, feeling very busy and important, to thetask of loading.

  But it wasn’t very long before some one else came along andinterrupted my work. This was a huge, big, burly man with a red beardand tattoo-marks all over his arms. He wiped his mouth with the back ofhis hand, spat twice on to the river-wall and said,

  “Boy, where’s the skipper?”

  “The _skipper_!—Who do you mean?” I asked.

  “The captain—Where’s the captain of this craft?” he said, pointing tothe _Curlew_.

  “Oh, you mean the Doctor,” said I. “Well, he isn’t here at present.”

  At that moment the Doctor arrived with his arms full of note-books andbutterfly-nets and glass cases and other natural history things. Thebig man went up to him, respectfully touching his cap.

  “Good morning, Captain,” said he. “I heard you was in need of hands fora voyage. My name’s Ben Butcher, able seaman.”

  “I am very glad to know you,” said the Doctor. “But I’m afraid I shan’tbe able to take on any more crew.”

  “Why, but Captain,” said the able seaman, “you surely ain’t going toface deep-sea weather with nothing more than this bit of a lad to helpyou—and with a cutter that big!”

  The Doctor assured him that he was; but the man didn’t go away. He hungaround and argued. He told us he had known of many ships being sunkthrough “undermanning.” He got out what he called his _stiffikit_—apaper which said what a good sailor he was—and implored us, if wevalued our lives, to take him.

  “‘Boy, where’s the skipper?’”]

  But the Doctor was quite firm—polite but determined—and finally the manwalked sorrowfully away, telling us he never expected to see us aliveagain.

  Callers of one sort and another kept us quite busy that morning.The Doctor had no sooner gone below to stow away his note-booksthan another visitor appeared upon the gang-plank. This was a mostextraordinary-looking black man. The only other negroes I had seenhad been in circuses, where they wore feathers and bone necklaces andthings like that. But this one was dressed in a fashionable frock coatwith an enormous bright red cravat. On his head was a straw hat witha gay band; and over this he held a large green umbrella. He was verysmart in every respe
ct except his feet. He wore no shoes or socks.

  “Pardon me,” said he, bowing elegantly, “but is this the ship of thephysician Dolittle?”

  “Yes,” I said, “did you wish to see him?”

  “I did—if it will not be discommodious,” he answered.

  “Who shall I say it is?”

  “I am Bumpo Kahbooboo, Crown Prince of Jolliginki.”

  I ran downstairs at once and told the Doctor.

  “How fortunate!” cried John Dolittle. “My old friend Bumpo! Well,well!—He’s studying at Oxford, you know. How good of him to come allthis way to call on me!” And he tumbled up the ladder to greet hisvisitor.

  The strange black man seemed to be overcome with joy when the Doctorappeared and shook him warmly by the hand.

  “News reached me,” he said, “that you were about to sail upon a voyage.I hastened to see you before your departure. I am sublimely ecstasiedthat I did not miss you.”

  “You very nearly did miss us,” said the Doctor. “As it happened, wewere delayed somewhat in getting the necessary number of men to sailour boat. If it hadn’t been for that, we would have been gone threedays ago.”