The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle

by Hugh Lofting

  “No,” said the Doctor, “I suppose that’s true.”

  “Well now I tell you what you do,” said she: “as soon as you get backto the palace you publish a royal proclamation that you are going awayfor a week into the country for your health. And you’re going _withoutany servants_, you understand—just like a plain person. It’s calledtraveling incognito, when kings go off like that. They all do it—It’sthe only way they can ever have a good time. Then the week you’re awayyou can spend lolling on the beach back there with the snail. How’sthat?”

  “I’d like to,” said the Doctor. “It sounds most attractive. But there’sthat new theatre to be built; none of our carpenters would know how toget those rafters on without me to show them—And then there are thebabies: these native mothers are so frightfully ignorant.”

  “Oh bother the theatre—and the babies too,” snapped Polynesia. “Thetheatre can wait a week. And as for babies, they never have anythingmore than colic. How do you suppose babies got along before you camehere, for heaven’s sake?—Take a holiday.... You need it.”

  _THE SIXTH CHAPTER_

  THE LAST CABINET MEETING

  FROM the way Polynesia talked, I guessed that this idea of a holidaywas part of her plan.

  The Doctor made no reply; and we walked on silently towards the town. Icould see, nevertheless that her words had made an impression on him.

  After supper he disappeared from the palace without saying where he wasgoing—a thing he had never done before. Of course we all knew where hehad gone: back to the beach to sit up with the snail. We were sure ofit because he had said nothing to Bumpo about attending to the matter.

  As soon as the doors were closed upon the Cabinet Meeting that night,Polynesia addressed the Ministry:

  “Look here, you fellows,” said she: “we’ve simply got to get the Doctorto take this holiday somehow—unless we’re willing to stay in thisblessed island for the rest of our lives.”

  “But what difference,” Bumpo asked, “is his taking a holiday going tomake?”

  Impatiently Polynesia turned upon the Minister of the Interior.

  “Don’t you see? If he has a clear week to get thoroughly interested inhis natural history again—marine stuff, his dream of seeing the floorof the ocean and all that—there may be some chance of his consentingto leave this pesky place. But while he is here on duty as king henever gets a moment to think of anything outside of the business ofgovernment.”

  “Yes, that’s true. He’s far too consententious,” Bumpo agreed.

  “And besides,” Polynesia went on, “his only hope of ever getting awayfrom here would be to escape secretly. He’s got to leave while he isholiday-making, incognito—when no one knows where he is or what he’sdoing, but us. If he built a ship big enough to cross the sea in, allthe Indians would see it, and hear it, being built; and they’d ask whatit was for. They would interfere. They’d sooner have anything happenthan lose the Doctor. Why, I believe if they thought he had any idea ofescaping they would put chains on him.”

  “Yes, I really think they would,” I agreed. “Yet without a ship of somekind I don’t see how the Doctor is going to get away, even secretly.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you,” said Polynesia. “If we do succeed in makinghim take this holiday, our next step will be to get the sea-snailto promise to take us all in his shell and carry us to the mouth ofPuddleby River. If we can once get the snail willing, the temptationwill be too much for John Dolittle and he’ll come, I know—especially ashe’ll be able to take those new plants and drugs of Long Arrow’s to theEnglish doctors, as well as see the floor of the ocean on the way.”

  “How thrilling!” I cried. “Do you mean the snail could take us underthe sea all the way back to Puddleby?”

  “Certainly,” said Polynesia, “a little trip like that is nothing tohim. He would crawl along the floor of the ocean and the Doctor couldsee all the sights. Perfectly simple. Oh, John Dolittle will come allright, if we can only get him to take that holiday—_and_ if the snailwill consent to give us the ride.”

  “Golly, I hope he does!” sighed Jip. “I’m sick of these beastlytropics—they make you feel so lazy and good-for-nothing. And thereare no rats or anything here—not that a fellow would have the energyto chase ’em even if there were. My, wouldn’t I be glad to see oldPuddleby and the garden again! And won’t Dab-Dab be glad to have usback!”

  “By the end of next month,” said I, “it will be two whole years sincewe left England—since we pulled up the anchor at Kingsbridge and bumpedour way out into the river.”

  “And got stuck on the mud-bank,” added Chee-Chee in a dreamy, far-awayvoice.

  “Do you remember how all the people waved to us from the river-wall?” Iasked.

  “Yes. And I suppose they’ve often talked about us in the town since,”said Jip—“wondering whether we’re dead or alive.”

  “Cease,” said Bumpo, “I feel I am about to weep from sediment.”

  _THE SEVENTH CHAPTER_

  THE DOCTOR’S DECISION

  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 hadmade up his mind to take the holiday. A proclamation was publishedright away by the Town Crier that His Majesty was going into thecountry for a seven-day rest, but that during his absence the palaceand the government offices would be kept open as usual.

  Polynesia was immensely pleased. She at once set quietly to work makingarrangements for our departure—taking good care the while that no oneshould get an inkling of where we were going, what we were taking withus, the hour of our leaving or which of the palace-gates we would goout by.

  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 hadfor some of her preparations. She took me inside and told me that theone thing I must remember to bring with me was _all_ of the Doctor’snote-books. Long Arrow, who was the only Indian let into the secretof our destination, said he would like to come with us as far as thebeach to see the Great Snail; and him Polynesia told to be sure andbring his collection of plants. Bumpo she ordered to carry the Doctor’shigh hat—carefully hidden under his coat. She sent off nearly all thefootmen who were on night duty to do errands in the town, so that thereshould be as few servants as possible to see us leave. And midnight,the hour when most of the townspeople would be asleep, she finallychose for our departure.

  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 oftwelve we opened the west door of the palace and stepped cautiously andquietly into the moonlit garden.

  “Tiptoe incognito,” whispered Bumpo as we gently closed the heavy doorsbehind us.

  No one had seen us leave.

  At the foot of the stone steps leading from the Peacock Terrace to theSunken Rosary, something made me pause and look back at the magnificentpalace which we had built in this strange, far-off land where no whitemen but ourselves had ever come. Somehow I felt it in my bones that wewere leaving it to-night never to return again. And I wondered whatother kings and ministers would dwell in its splendid halls when wewere gone. The air was hot; and everything was deadly still but for thegentle splashing of the tame flamingoes paddling in the lily-pond.Suddenly the twinkling lantern of a night watchman appeared round thecorner of a cypress hedge. Polynesia plucked at my stocking and, in animpatient whisper, bade me hurry before our flight be discovered.

  On our arrival at the beach we found the snail already feeling muchbetter and now able to move his tail without pain.

  The porpoises (who are by nature inquisitive creatures) were stillhanging about in the offing to see if anything of interest was going tohappen. Polynesia, the plotter, while the Doctor was occupied with hisnew patient, signaled to them and drew them aside for a little privatechat.

  “Now see here, my friends,” said she speaking low: “you know how muchJohn Dolittle has done for t
he 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 nowthat he has taken the job on, he feels that he can’t leave it—thinksthe Indians won’t be able to get along without him and all that—whichis nonsense, as you and I very well know. All right. Then here’s thepoint: if this snail were only willing to take him and us—and a littlebaggage—not very much, thirty or forty pieces, say—inside his shell andcarry us to England, we feel sure that the Doctor would go; becausehe’s just crazy to mess about on the floor of the ocean. What’s morethis would be his one and only chance of escape from the island. Nowit is highly important that the Doctor return to his own country tocarry on his proper work which means such a lot to the animals of theworld. So what we want you to do is to tell the sea-urchin to tell thestarfish to tell the snail to take us in his shell and carry us toPuddleby River. Is that plain?”

  “‘Tiptoe incognito,’ whispered Bumpo”]

  “Quite, quite,” said the porpoises. “And we will willingly do our verybest to persuade him—for it is, as you say, a perfect shame for thegreat man to be wasting his time here when he is so much needed by theanimals.”

  “And don’t let the Doctor know what you’re about,” said Polynesia asthey started to move off. “He might balk if he thought we had any handin it. Get the snail to offer on his own account to take us. See?”

  John Dolittle, unaware of anything save the work he was engaged on, wasstanding knee-deep in the shallow water, helping the snail try out hismended tail to see if it were well enough to travel on. Bumpo and LongArrow, with Chee-Chee and Jip, were lolling at the foot of a palm alittle way up the beach. Polynesia and I now went and joined them.

  Half an hour passed.

  What success the porpoises had met with, we did not know, till suddenlythe Doctor left the snail’s side and came splashing out to us, quitebreathless.

  “What _do_ you think?” he cried, “while I was talking to the snailjust now he offered, of his own accord, to take us all back to Englandinside his shell. He says he has got to go on a voyage of discoveryanyway, to hunt up a new home, now that the Deep Hole is closed. Saidit wouldn’t be much out of his way to drop us at Puddleby River, if wecared to come along—Goodness, what a chance! I’d love to go. To examinethe floor of the ocean all the way from Brazil to Europe! No man everdid it before. What a glorious trip!—Oh that I had never allowed myselfto be made king! Now I must see the chance of a lifetime slip by.”

  He turned from us and moved down the sands again to the middle beach,gazing wistfully, longingly out at the snail. There was somethingpeculiarly sad and forlorn about him as he stood there on the lonely,moonlit shore, the crown upon his head, his figure showing sharplyblack against the glittering sea behind.

  Out of the darkness at my elbow Polynesia rose and quietly moved downto his side.

  “Now Doctor,” said she in a soft persuasive voice as though she weretalking to a wayward child, “you know this king business is not yourreal work in life. These natives will be able to get along withoutyou—not so well as they do with you of course—but they’ll manage—thesame as they did before you came. Nobody can say you haven’t done yourduty by them. It was their fault: they made you king. Why not acceptthe snail’s offer; and just drop everything now, and go? The workyou’ll do, the information you’ll carry home, will be of far more valuethan what you’re doing here.”

  “Good friend,” said the Doctor turning to her sadly, “I cannot. Theywould go back to their old unsanitary ways: bad water, uncooked fish,no drainage, enteric fever and the rest.... No. I must think of theirhealth, their welfare. I began life as a people’s doctor: I seem tohave come back to it in the end. I cannot desert them. Later perhapssomething will turn up. But I cannot leave them now.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Doctor,” said she. “Now is when you shouldgo. Nothing will ‘turn up.’ The longer you stay, the harder it will beto leave—Go now. Go to-night.”

  “What, steal away without even saying good-bye to them! Why, Polynesia,what a thing to suggest!”

  “A fat chance they would give you to say good-bye!” snorted Polynesiagrowing impatient at last. “I tell you, Doctor, if you go back to thatpalace tonight, for goodbys or anything else, you will stay there.Now—this moment—is the time for you to go.”

  The truth of the old parrot’s words seemed to be striking home; forthe Doctor stood silent a minute, thinking.

  “But there are the note-books,” he said presently: “I would have to goback to fetch them.”

  “I have them here, Doctor,” said I, speaking up—“all of them.”

  Again he pondered.

  “And Long Arrow’s collection,” he said. “I would have to take that alsowith me.”

  “It is here, Oh Kindly One,” came the Indian’s deep voice from theshadow beneath the palm.

  “But what about provisions,” asked the Doctor—“food for the journey?”

  “We have a week’s supply with us, for our holiday,” saidPolynesia—“that’s more than we will need.”

  For a third time the Doctor was silent and thoughtful.

  “And then there’s my hat,” he said fretfully at last. “That settles it:I’ll _have_ to go back to the palace. I can’t leave without my hat. Howcould I appear in Puddleby with this crown on my head?”

  “Here it is, Doctor,” said Bumpo producing the hat, old, battered andbeloved, from under his coat.

  Polynesia had indeed thought of everything.

  Yet even now we could see the Doctor was still trying to think upfurther excuses.

  “Oh Kindly One,” said Long Arrow, “why tempt ill fortune? Your way isclear. Your future and your work beckon you back to your foreign homebeyond the sea. With you will go also what lore I too have gatheredfor mankind—to lands where it will be of wider use than it can everhere. I see the glimmerings of dawn in the eastern heaven. Day is athand. Go before your subjects are abroad. Go before your project isdiscovered. For truly I believe that if you go not now you will lingerthe remainder of your days a captive king in Popsipetel.”

  Great decisions often take no more than a moment in the making. Againstthe now paling sky I saw the Doctor’s figure suddenly stiffen. Slowlyhe lifted the Sacred Crown from off his head and laid it on the sands.

  And when he spoke his voice was choked with tears.

  “They will find it here,” he murmured, “when they come to search forme. And they will know that I have gone.... My children, my poorchildren!—I wonder will they ever understand why it was I left them....I wonder will they ever understand—and forgive.”

  He took his old hat from Bumpo; then facing Long Arrow, gripped hisoutstretched hand in silence.

  “You decide aright, oh Kindly One,” said the Indian—“though nonewill miss and mourn you more than Long Arrow, the son of GoldenArrow—Farewell, and may good fortune ever lead you by the hand!”

  It was the first and only time I ever saw the Doctor weep. Without aword to any of us, he turned and moved down the beach into the shallowwater of the sea.

  The snail humped up its back and made an opening between its shouldersand the edge of its shell. The Doctor clambered up and passed within.We followed him, after handing up the baggage. The opening shut tightwith a whistling suction noise.

  Then turning in the direction of the East, the great creature beganmoving smoothly forward, down the slope into the deeper waters.

  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. Andthrough our transparent walls of pearl we saw the watery world aboutus suddenly light up with that most wondrously colorful of visions, adaybreak beneath the sea.

  * * * * *

  The rest of the story of our homeward voyage is soon told.

  Our new quarters we found very satisfactory. Inside the spacious shell,the snail’s wide back was extremely
comfortable to sit and loungeon—better than a sofa, when you once got accustomed to the damp andclammy feeling of it. He asked us, shortly after we started, if wewouldn’t mind taking off our boots, as the hobnails in them hurt hisback as we ran excitedly from one side to another to see the differentsights.

  The motion was not unpleasant, very smooth and even; in fact, but forthe landscape passing outside, you would not know, on the level going,that you were moving at all.

  I had always thought for some reason or other that the bottom of thesea was flat. I found that it was just as irregular and changeful asthe surface of the dry land. We climbed over great mountain-ranges,with peaks towering above peaks. We threaded our way through denseforests of tall sea-plants. We crossed wide empty stretches of sandymud, like deserts—so vast that you went on for a whole day with nothingahead of you but a dim horizon. Sometimes the scene was moss-covered,rolling country, green and restful to the eye like rich pastures; sothat 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 secludedvalley with steeply sloping sides.