The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle

by Hugh Lofting

  And he picked up a club from the ground and tried the heft of itagainst a stone.

  “This,” he said, “seems like a pretty good tool to me.” And he walkedto the bamboo fence and took his place among the other waiting fighters.

  Then we all got hold of some kind of weapon with which to help ourfriends, the gallant Popsipetels: I borrowed a bow and a quiver full ofarrows; 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 throwthem down upon the enemies’ heads; and Bumpo marched after the Doctorto the fence armed with a young tree in one hand and a door-post in theother.

  When the enemy drew near enough to be seen from where we stood we allgasped with astonishment. The hillsides were actually covered withthem—thousands upon thousands. They made our small army within thevillage look like a mere handful.

  “Saints alive!” muttered Polynesia, “our little lot will stand nochance against that swarm. This will never do. I’m going off to getsome help.”

  Where she was going and what kind of help she meant to get, I had noidea. 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 betterview of the enemy and said,

  “Likely enough she’s gone after the Black Parrots. Let’s hope shefinds them in time. Just look at those ugly ruffians climbing down therocks—millions of ’em! This fight’s going to keep us all hopping.”

  And Jip was right. Before a quarter of an hour had gone by ourvillage was completely surrounded by one huge mob of yelling, ragingBag-jagderags.

  I now come again to a part in the story of our voyages where thingshappened so quickly, one upon the other, that looking backwards I seethe picture only in a confused kind of way. I know that if it had notbeen for the Terrible Three—as they came afterwards to be fondly calledin Popsipetel history—Long Arrow, Bumpo and the Doctor, the war wouldhave been soon over and the whole island would have belonged to theworthless Bag-jagderags. But the Englishman, the African and the Indianwere a regiment in themselves; and between them they made that villagea dangerous place for any man to try to enter.

  The bamboo fencing which had been hastily set up around the town wasnot a very strong affair; and right from the start it gave way inone place after another as the enemy thronged and crowded against it.Then the Doctor, Long Arrow and Bumpo would hurry to the weak spot, aterrific hand-to-hand fight would take place and the enemy be thrownout. But almost instantly a cry of alarm would come from some otherpart of the village-wall; and the Three would have to rush off and dothe same thing all over again.

  The Terrible Three

  _From an Indian rock-engraving found on Hawks’-Head Mountain,Spidermonkey Island_]

  The Popsipetels were themselves no mean fighters; but the strength andweight of those three men of different lands and colors, standing closetogether, swinging their enormous war-clubs, was really a sight for thewonder and admiration of any one.

  Many weeks later when I was passing an Indian camp-fire at night Iheard this song being sung. It has since become one of the traditionalfolksongs of the Popsipetels.

  THE SONG OF THE TERRIBLE THREE

  Oh hear ye the Song of the Terrible Three And the fight that they fought by the edge of the sea. Down from the mountains, the rocks and the crags, Swarming like wasps, came the Bag-jagderags.

  Surrounding our village, our walls they broke down. Oh, sad was the plight of our men and our town! But Heaven determined our land to set free And sent us the help of the Terrible Three.

  One was a Black—he was dark as the night; One was a Red-skin, a mountain of height; But the chief was a White Man, round like a bee; And all in a row stood the Terrible Three.

  Shoulder to shoulder, they hammered and hit. Like demons of fury they kicked and they bit. Like a wall of destruction they stood in a row, Flattening enemies, six at a blow.

  Oh, strong was the Red-skin fierce was the Black. Bag-jagderags trembled and tried to turn back. But ’twas of the White Man they shouted, “Beware! He throws men in handfuls, straight up in the air!”

  Long shall they frighten bad children at night With tales of the Red and the Black and the White. And long shall we sing of the Terrible Three And the fight that they fought by the edge of the sea.

  _THE SIXTH CHAPTER_

  GENERAL POLYNESIA

  BUT alas! even the Three, mighty though they were, could not lastforever against an army which seemed to have no end. In one of thehottest scrimmages, when the enemy had broken a particularly wide holethrough the fence, I saw Long Arrow’s great figure topple and come downwith a spear sticking in his broad chest.

  For another half-hour Bumpo and the Doctor fought on side by side. Howtheir strength held out so long I cannot tell, for never a second werethey given to get their breath or rest their arms.

  The Doctor—the quiet, kindly, peaceable, little Doctor!—well, youwouldn’t have known him if you had seen him that day dealing out whacksyou could hear a mile off, walloping and swatting in all directions.

  As for Bumpo, with staring eye-balls and grim set teeth, he wasa veritable demon. None dared come within yards of that wicked,wide-circling door-post. But a stone, skilfully thrown, struck him atlast in the centre of the forehead. And down went the second of theThree. John Dolittle, the last of the Terribles, was left fightingalone.

  Jip and I rushed to his side and tried to take the places of the fallenones. But, far too light and too small, we made but a poor exchange.Another length of the fence crashed down, and through the widened gapthe Bag-jagderags poured in on us like a flood.

  “To the canoes!—To the sea!” shouted the Popsipetels. “Fly for yourlives!—All is over!—The war is lost!”

  But the Doctor and I never got a chance to fly for our lives. We wereswept off our feet and knocked down flat by the sheer weight of themob. And once down, we were unable to get up again. I thought we wouldsurely be trampled to death.

  But at that moment, above the din and racket of the battle, we heardthe most terrifying noise that ever assaulted human ears: the sound ofmillions and millions of parrots all screeching with fury together.

  The army, which in the nick of time Polynesia had brought to ourrescue, darkened the whole sky to the westward. I asked her afterwards,how many birds there were; and she said she didn’t know exactly butthat they certainly numbered somewhere between sixty and seventymillions. In that extraordinarily short space of time she had broughtthem from the mainland of South America.

  If you have ever heard a parrot screech with anger you will know thatit makes a truly frightful sound; and if you have ever been bitten byone, you will know that its bite can be a nasty and a painful thing.

  The Black Parrots (coal-black all over, they were—except for a scarletbeak and a streak of red in wing and tail) on the word of command fromPolynesia set to work upon the Bag-jagderags who were now pouringthrough the village looking for plunder.

  And the Black Parrots’ method of fighting was peculiar. This is whatthey did: on the head of each Bag-jagderag three or four parrotssettled and took a good foot-hold in his hair with their claws; thenthey leant down over the sides of his head and began clipping snips outof his ears, for all the world as though they were punching tickets.That is all they did. They never bit them anywhere else except theears. But it won the war for us.

  With howls pitiful to hear, the Bag-jagderags fell over one another intheir haste to get out of that accursed village. It was no use theirtrying to pull the parrots off their heads; because for each head therewere always four more parrots waiting impatiently to get on.

  Some of the enemy were lucky; and with only a snip or two managed toget outside the fence—where the parrots immediately left them alone.But with most, before the black birds had done with them, the earspresented a very singular appearance—like the edge of a postage-stamp.This treatment, very pain
ful at the time, did not however do them anypermanent harm beyond the change in looks. And it later got to be thetribal mark of the Bag-jagderags. No really smart young lady of thistribe would be seen walking with a man who did not have scallopedears—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 peoplecame to be called by the other Indian nations, the _Ragged-EaredBag-jagderags_.

  As soon as the village was cleared of the enemy the Doctor turned hisattention to the wounded.

  In spite of the length and fierceness of the struggle, there weresurprisingly few serious injuries. Poor Long Arrow was the worst off.However, after the Doctor had washed his wound and got him to bed, heopened his eyes and said he already felt better. Bumpo was only badlystunned.

  With this part of the business over, the Doctor called to Polynesiato have the Black Parrots drive the enemy right back into their owncountry and to wait there, guarding them all night.

  Polynesia gave the short word of command; and like one bird thosemillions of parrots opened their red beaks and let out once more theirterrifying battle-scream.

  The Bag-jagderags didn’t wait to be bitten a second time, but fledhelter-skelter over the mountains from which they had come; whilstPolynesia and her victorious army followed watchfully behind like agreat, threatening, black cloud.

  The Doctor picked up his high hat which had been knocked off in thefight, dusted it carefully and put it on.

  “To-morrow,” he said, shaking his fist towards the hills, “we willarrange the terms of peace—and we will arrange them—in the City ofBag-jagderag!”

  His words were greeted with cheers of triumph from the admiringPopsipetels. The war was over.

  _THE SEVENTH CHAPTER_

  THE PEACE OF THE PARROTS

  THE next day we set out for the far end of the island, and reaching itin canoes (for we went by sea) after a journey of twenty-five hours, weremained no longer than was necessary in the City of Bag-jagderag.

  When he threw himself into that fight at Popsipetel, I saw the Doctorreally angry for the first time in my life. But his anger, oncearoused, was slow to die. All the way down the coast of the island henever ceased to rail against this cowardly people who had attacked hisfriends, the Popsipetels, for no other reason but to rob them of theircorn, because they were too idle to till the land themselves. And hewas still angry when he reached the City of Bag-jagderag.

  Long Arrow had not come with us for he was as yet too weak from hiswound. But the Doctor—always clever at languages—was already gettingfamiliar with the Indian tongue. Besides, among the half-dozenPopsipetels who accompanied us to paddle the canoes, was one boy towhom we had taught a little English. He and the Doctor between themmanaged to make themselves understood to the Bag-jagderags. Thispeople, with the terrible parrots still blackening the hills abouttheir stone town, waiting for the word to descend and attack, were, wefound, in a very humble mood.

  Leaving our canoes we passed up the main street to the palace of thechief. Bumpo and I couldn’t help smiling with satisfaction as we sawhow the waiting crowds which lined the roadway bowed their heads to theground, as the little, round, angry figure of the Doctor strutted aheadof us with his chin in the air.

  At the foot of the palace-steps the chief and all the more importantpersonages of the tribe were waiting to meet him, smiling humbly andholding out their hands in friendliness. The Doctor took not theslightest notice. He marched right by them, up the steps to the doorof the palace. There he turned around and at once began to address thepeople in a firm voice.

  I never heard such a speech in my life—and I am quite sure that theynever 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 todrive them on into the sea, in order that this pleasant land might berid, once for all, of their worthless carcases.

  At this a great cry for mercy went up, and the chief and all ofthem fell on their knees, calling out that they would submit to anyconditions of peace he wished.

  Then the Doctor called for one of their scribes—that is, a man who didpicture-writing. And on the stone walls of the palace of Bag-jagderaghe bade him write down the terms of the peace as he dictated it.This peace is known as _The Peace of The Parrots_, and—unlike mostpeaces—was, and is, strictly kept—even to this day.

  It was quite long in words. The half of the palace-front was coveredwith picture-writing, and fifty pots of paint were used, before theweary scribe had done. But the main part of it all was that thereshould be no more fighting; and that the two tribes should give solemnpromise to help one another whenever there was corn-famine or otherdistress in the lands belonging to either.

  This greatly surprised the Bag-jagderags. They had expected from theDoctor’s angry face that he would at least chop a couple of hundredheads off—and probably make the rest of them slaves for life.

  But when they saw that he only meant kindly by them, their great fearof him changed to a tremendous admiration. And as he ended his longspeech and walked briskly down the steps again on his way back to thecanoes, the group of chieftains threw themselves at his feet and cried,

  “Do but stay with us, Great Lord, and all the riches of Bag-jagderagshall be poured into your lap. Gold-mines we know of in the mountainsand pearl-beds beneath the sea. Only stay with us, that yourall-powerful wisdom may lead our Council and our people in prosperityand peace.”

  The Doctor held up his hand for silence.

  “No man,” said he, “would wish to be the guest of the Bag-jagderagstill they had proved by their deeds that they are an honest race. Betrue to the terms of the Peace and from yourselves shall come goodgovernment and prosperity—Farewell!”

  Then he turned and followed by Bumpo, the Popsipetels and myself,walked rapidly down to the canoes.

  _THE EIGHTH CHAPTER_

  THE HANGING STONE

  BUT the change of heart in the Bag-jagderags was really sincere. TheDoctor had made a great impression on them—a deeper one than even hehimself realized at the time. In fact I sometimes think that thatspeech of his from the palace-steps had more effect upon the Indians ofSpidermonkey Island than had any of his great deeds which, great thoughthey were, were always magnified and exaggerated when the news of themwas passed from mouth to mouth.

  A sick girl was brought to him as he reached the place where the boatslay. She turned out to have some quite simple ailment which he quicklygave the remedy for. But this increased his popularity still more. Andwhen he stepped into his canoe, the people all around us actually burstinto tears. It seems (I learned this afterwards) that they thought hewas going away across the sea, for good, to the mysterious foreignlands from which he had come.

  Some of the chieftains spoke to the Popsipetels as we pushed off. Whatthey said I did not understand; but we noticed that several canoesfilled with Bag-jagderags followed us at a respectful distance all theway back to Popsipetel.

  The Doctor had determined to return by the other shore, so that weshould be thus able to make a complete trip round the island’s shores.

  Shortly after we started, while still off the lower end of the island,we sighted a steep point on the coast where the sea was in a greatstate of turmoil, white with soapy froth. On going nearer, we foundthat this was caused by our friendly whales who were still faithfullyworking away with their noses against the end of the island, driving usnorthward. We had been kept so busy with the war that we had forgottenall about them. But as we paused and watched their mighty tails lashingand churning the sea, we suddenly realized that we had not felt coldin quite a long while. Speeding up our boat lest the island be carriedaway from us altogether, we passed on up the coast; and here and therewe noticed that the trees on the shore already looked greener and morehealthy. Spidermonkey Island was getting back into her home climates.

  About halfway to Popsipetel we went ashore and spent two or three daysexploring
the central part of the island. Our Indian paddlers took usup into the mountains, very steep and high in this region, overhangingthe sea. And they showed us what they called the Whispering Rocks.

  This was a very peculiar and striking piece of scenery. It was like agreat vast basin, or circus, in the mountains, and out of the centre ofit there rose a table of rock with an ivory chair upon it. All aroundthis the mountains went up like stairs, or theatre-seats, to a greatheight—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, andthe rock table in the centre the stage for performers or the stand forthe speaker.

  “Working away with their noses against the end of theisland”]

  We asked our guides why it was called the Whispering Rocks; and theysaid, “Go down into it and we will show you.”

  The great bowl was miles deep and miles wide. We scrambled down therocks and they showed us how, even when you stood far, far apart fromone another, you merely had to whisper in that great place and everyone in the theatre could hear you. This was, the Doctor said, onaccount of the echoes which played backwards and forwards between thehigh walls of rock.

  Our guides told us that it was here, in days long gone by when thePopsipetels owned the whole of Spidermonkey Island, that the kingswere crowned. The ivory chair upon the table was the throne in whichthey sat. And so great was the big theatre that all the Indians in theisland were able to get seats in it to see the ceremony.