The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle

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

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

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

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

“You’re going to Bedlam, I should say,” snorted the housekeeper. “Look what 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 it up along the river-wall, so it would be more handy for loading. And for three whole days we carried provisions down to our beautiful new boat and stowed them away.

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

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

“My Goodness, Tommy,” said he, as he watched me carrying on some sacks of flour, “but that’s a pretty boat! Where might the Doctor be going to 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 so far 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 half a mind to come with the Doctor myself. There’s something about a boat standing ready to sail that always did make me feel venturesome and travelish-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 more like going with you than ever—But my rheumatism is that bad I can’t hardly—”

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

But it wasn’t very long before some one else came along and interrupted my work. This was a huge, big, burly man with a red beard and tattoo-marks all over his arms. He wiped his mouth with the back of his 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 to the 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 and butterfly-nets and glass cases and other natural history things. The big man went up to him, respectfully touching his cap.

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

“I am very glad to know you,” said the Doctor. “But I’m afraid I shan’t be able to take on any more crew.”

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

The Doctor assured him that he was; but the man didn’t go away. He hung around and argued. He told us he had known of many ships being sunk through “undermanning.” He got out what he called his stiffikit—a paper which said what a good sailor he was—and implored us, if we valued our lives, to take him.

But the Doctor was quite firm—polite but determined—and finally the man walked sorrowfully away, telling us he never expected to see us alive again.

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

“Pardon me,” said he, bowing elegantly, “but is this the ship of the physician 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 all this way to call on me!” And he tumbled up the ladder to greet his visitor.

The strange black man seemed to be overcome with joy when the Doctor appeared 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 ecstasied that I did not miss you.”

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

“How many men does your ship’s company yet require?” asked Bumpo.

“Only one,” said the Doctor—“But it is so hard to find the right one.”

“Methinks I detect something of the finger of Destination in this,” said Bumpo. “How would I do?”

“Splendidly,” said the Doctor. “But what about your studies? You can’t very well just go off and leave your university career to take care of itself, you know.”

“I need a holiday,” said Bumpo. “Even had I not gone with you, I intended at the end of this term to take a three-months’ absconsion—But besides, I shall not be neglecting my edification if I accompany you. Before I left Jolliginki my august father, the King, told me to be sure and travel plenty. You are a man of great studiosity. To see the world in your company is an opportunity not to be sneezed upon. No, no, indeed.”

“How did you like the life at Oxford?” asked the Doctor.

“Oh, passably, passably,” said Bumpo. “I liked it all except the algebra and the shoes. The algebra hurt my head and the shoes hurt my feet. I threw the shoes over a wall as soon as I got out of the college quadrilateral this morning; and the algebra I am happily forgetting very fast—I liked Cicero—Yes, I think Cicero’s fine—so simultaneous. By the way, they tell me his son is rowing for our college next year—charming fellow.”

The Doctor looked down at the black man’s huge bare feet thoughtfully a moment.

“Well,” he said slowly, “there is something in what you say, Bumpo, about getting education from the world as well as from the college. And if you are really sure that you want to come, we shall be delighted to have you. Because, to tell you the truth, I think you are exactly the man we need.”

THE SECOND CHAPTER

GOOD-BYE!

TWO days after that we had all in readiness for our departure.

On this voyage Jip begged so hard to be taken that the Doctor finally gave in and said he could come. Polynesia and Chee-Chee were the only other animals to go with us. Dab-Dab was left in charge of the house and the animal family we were to leave behind.

Of course, as is always the way, at the last moment we kept remembering things we had forgotten; and when we finally closed the house up and went down the steps to the road, we were all burdened with armfuls of odd packages.

Halfway to the river, the Doctor suddenly remembered that he had left the stock-pot boiling on the kitchen-fire. However, we saw a blackbird flying by who nested in our garden, and the Doctor asked her to go back for us and tell Dab-Dab about it.

Down at the river-wall we found a great crowd waiting to see us off.

Standing right near the gang-plank were my mother and father. I hoped that they would not make a scene, or burst into tears or anything like that. But as a matter of fact they behaved quite well—for parents. My mother said something about being sure not to get my feet wet; and my father just smiled a crooked sort of smile, patted me on the back and wished me luck. Good-byes are awfully uncomfortable things and I was glad when it was over and we passed on to the ship.

We were a little surprised not to see Matthew Mugg among the crowd. We had felt sure that he would be there; and the Doctor had intended to give him some extra instructions about the food for the animals we had left at the house.

At last, after much pulling and tugging, we got the anchor up and undid a lot of mooring-ropes. Then the Curlew began to move gently down the river with the out-running tide, while the people on the wall cheered and waved their handkerchiefs.

We bumped into one or two other boats getting out into the stream; and at one sharp bend in the river we got stuck on a mud bank for a few minutes. But though the people on the shore seemed to get very excited at these things, the Doctor did not appear to be disturbed by them in the least.

“These little accidents will happen in the most carefully regulated voyages,” he said as he leaned over the side and fished for his boots which had got stuck in the mud while we were pushing off. “Sailing is much easier when you get out into the open sea. There aren’t so many silly things to bump into.”

For me indeed it was a great and wonderful feeling, that getting out into the open sea, when at length we passed the little lighthouse at the mouth of the river and found ourselves free of the land. It was all so new and different: just the sky above you and sea below. This ship, which was to be our house and our street, our home and our garden, for so many days to come, seemed so tiny in all this wide water—so tiny and yet so snug, sufficient, safe.

I looked around me and took in a deep breath. The Doctor was at the wheel steering the boat which was now leaping and plunging gently through the waves. (I had expected to feel seasick at first but was delighted to find that I didn’t.) Bumpo had been told off to go downstairs and prepare dinner for us. Chee-Chee was coiling up ropes in the stern and laying them in neat piles. My work was fastening down the things on the deck so that nothing could roll about if the weather should grow rough when we got further from the land. Jip was up in the peak of the boat with ears cocked and nose stuck out—like a statue, so still—his keen old eyes keeping a sharp look-out for floating wrecks, sand-bars, and other dangers. Each one of us had some special job to do, part of the proper running of a ship. Even old Polynesia was taking the sea’s temperature with the Doctor’s bath-thermometer tied on the end of a string, to make sure there were no icebergs near us. As I listened to her swearing softly to herself because she couldn’t read the pesky figures in the fading light, I realized that the voyage had begun in earnest and that very soon it would be night—my first night at sea!

THE THIRD CHAPTER

OUR TROUBLES BEGIN

JUST before supper-time Bumpo appeared from downstairs and went to the Doctor at the wheel.

“A stowaway in the hold, Sir,” said he in a very business-like seafaring voice. “I just discovered him, behind the flour-bags.”

“Dear me!” said the Doctor. “What a nuisance! Stubbins, go down with Bumpo and bring the man up. I can’t leave the wheel just now.”

So Bumpo and I went down into the hold; and there, behind the flour-bags, plastered in flour from head to foot, we found a man. After we had swept most of the flour off him with a broom, we discovered that it was Matthew Mugg. We hauled him upstairs sneezing and took him before the Doctor.

“Why Matthew!” said John Dolittle. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“The temptation was too much for me, Doctor,” said the cat’s-meat-man. “You know I’ve often asked you to take me on voyages with you and you never would. Well, this time, knowing that you needed an extra man, I thought if I stayed hid till the ship was well at sea you would find I came in handy like and keep me. But I had to lie so doubled up, for hours, behind them flour-bags, that my rheumatism came on something awful. I just had to change my position; and of course just as I stretched out my legs along comes this here African cook of yours and sees my feet sticking out—Don’t this ship roll something awful! How long has this storm been going on? I reckon this damp sea air wouldn’t be very good for my rheumatics.”

“No, Matthew it really isn’t. You ought not to have come. You are not in any way suited to this kind of a life. I’m sure you wouldn’t enjoy a long voyage a bit. We’ll stop in at Penzance and put you ashore. Bumpo, please go downstairs to my bunk; and listen: in the pocket of my dressing-gown you’ll find some maps. Bring me the small one—with blue pencil-marks at the top. I know Penzance is over here on our left somewhere. But I must find out what light-houses there are before I change the ship’s course and sail inshore.”

“Very good, Sir,” said Bumpo, turning round smartly and making for the stairway.

“Now Matthew,” said the Doctor, “you can take the coach from Penzance to Bristol. And from there it is not very far to Puddleby, as you know. Don’t forget to take the usual provisions to the house every Thursday, and be particularly careful to remember the extra supply of herrings for the baby minks.”

While we were waiting for the maps Chee-Chee and I set about lighting the lamps: a green one on the right side of the ship, a red one on the left and a white one on the mast.

At last we heard some one trundling on the stairs again and the Doctor said,

“Ah, here’s Bumpo with the maps at last!”

But to our great astonishment it was not Bumpo alone that appeared but three people.

“Good Lord deliver us! Who are these?” cried John Dolittle.

“Two more stowaways, Sir,” said Bumpo stepping forward briskly. “I found them in your cabin hiding under the bunk. One woman and one man, Sir. Here are the maps.”

“This is too much,” said the Doctor feebly. “Who are they? I can’t see their faces in this dim light. Strike a match, Bumpo.”

You could never guess who it was. It was Luke and his wife. Mrs. Luke appeared to be very miserable and seasick.

They explained to the Doctor that after they had settled down to live together in the little shack out on the fens, so many people came to visit them (having heard about the great trial) that life became impossible; and they had decided to escape from Puddleby in this manner—for they had no money to leave any other way—and try to find some new place to live where they and their story wouldn’t be so well known. But as soon as the ship had begun to roll Mrs. Luke had got most dreadfully unwell.

Poor Luke apologized many times for being such a nuisance and said that the whole thing had been his wife’s idea.

The Doctor, after he had sent below for his medicine-bag and had given Mrs. Luke some sal volatile and smelling-salts, said he thought the best thing to do would be for him to lend them some money and put them ashore at Penzance with Matthew. He also wrote a letter for Luke to take with him to a friend the Doctor had in the town of Penzance who, it was hoped, would be able to find Luke work to do there.

As the Doctor opened his purse and took out some gold coins I heard Polynesia, who was sitting on my shoulder watching the whole affair, mutter beneath her breath,

“There he goes—lending his last blessed penny—three pounds ten—all the money we had for the whole trip! Now we haven’t the price of a postage-stamp aboard if we should lose an anchor or have to buy a pint of tar—Well, let’s pray we don’t run out of food—Why doesn’t he give them the ship and walk home?”

Presently with the help of the map the course of the boat was changed and, to Mrs. Luke’s great relief, we made for Penzance and dry land.

I was tremendously interested to see how a ship could be steered into a port at night with nothing but light-houses and a compass to guide you. It seemed to me that the Doctor missed all the rocks and sand-bars very cleverly.

We got into that funny little Cornish harbor about eleven o’clock that night. The Doctor took his stowaways on shore in our small row-boat which we kept on the deck of the Curlew and found them rooms at the hotel there. When he got back he told us that Mrs. Luke had gone straight to bed and was feeling much better.

It was now after midnight; so we decided to stay in the harbor and wait till morning before setting out again.

I was glad to get to bed, although I felt that staying up so tremendously late was great fun. As I climbed into the bunk over the Doctor’s and pulled the blankets snugly round me, I found I could look out of the port-hole at my elbow, and, without raising my head from the pillow, could see the lights of Penzance swinging gently up and down with the motion of the ship at anchor. It was like being rocked to sleep with a little show going on to amuse you. I was just deciding that I liked the life of the sea very much when I fell fast asleep.

THE FOURTH CHAPTER

OUR TROUBLES CONTINUE

THE next morning when we were eating a very excellent breakfast of kidneys and bacon, prepared by our good cook Bumpo, the Doctor said to me,

“I was just wondering, Stubbins, whether I should stop at the Capa Blanca Islands or run right across for the coast of Brazil. Miranda said we could expect a spell of excellent weather now—for four and a half weeks at least.”

“Well,” I said, spooning out the sugar at the bottom of my cocoa-cup, “I should think it would be best to make straight across while we are sure of good weather. And besides the Purple Bird-of-Paradise is going to keep a lookout for us, isn’t she? She’ll be wondering what’s happened to us if we don’t get there in about a month.”

“True, quite true, Stubbins. On the other hand, the Capa Blancas make a very convenient stopping place on our way across. If we should need supplies or repairs it would be very handy to put in there.”

“How long will it take us from here to the Capa Blancas?” I asked.

“About six days,” said the Doctor—“Well, we can decide later. For the next two days at any rate our direction would be the same practically in either case. If you have finished breakfast let’s go and get under way.”

Upstairs I found our vessel surrounded by white and gray seagulls who flashed and circled about in the sunny morning air, looking for food-scraps thrown out by the ships into the harbor.

By about half past seven we had the anchor up and the sails set to a nice steady breeze; and this time we got out into the open sea without bumping into a single thing. We met the Penzance fishing fleet coming in from the night’s fishing, and very trim and neat they looked, in a line like soldiers, with their red-brown sails all leaning over the same way and the white water dancing before their bows.

For the next three or four days everything went smoothly and nothing unusual happened. During this time we all got settled down into our regular jobs; and in spare moments the Doctor showed each of us how to take our turns at the wheel, the proper manner of keeping a ship on her right course, and what to do if the wind changed suddenly. We divided the twenty-four hours of the day into three spells; and we took it in turns to sleep our eight hours and be awake sixteen. So the ship was well looked after, with two of us always on duty.

Besides that, Polynesia, who was an older sailor than any of us, and really knew a lot about running ships, seemed to be always awake—except when she took her couple of winks in the sun, standing on one leg beside the wheel. You may be sure that no one ever got a chance to stay abed more than his eight hours while Polynesia was around. She used to watch the ship’s clock; and if you overslept a half-minute, she would come down to the cabin and peck you gently on the nose till you got up.

I very soon grew to be quite fond of our funny black friend Bumpo, with his grand way of speaking and his enormous feet which some one was always stepping on or falling over. Although he was much older than I was and had been to college, he never tried to lord it over me. He seemed to be forever smiling and kept all of us in good humor. It wasn’t long before I began to see the Doctor’s good sense in bringing him—in spite of the fact that he knew nothing whatever about sailing or travel.

On the morning of the fifth day out, just as I was taking the wheel over from the Doctor, Bumpo appeared and said,

“The salt beef is nearly all gone, Sir.”

“The salt beef!” cried the Doctor. “Why, we brought a hundred and twenty pounds with us. We couldn’t have eaten that in five days. What can have become of it?”

“I don’t know, Sir, I’m sure. Every time I go down to the stores I find another hunk missing. If it is rats that are eating it, then they are certainly colossal rodents.”

Polynesia who was walking up and down a stay-rope taking her morning exercise, put in,

“We must search the hold. If this is allowed to go on we will all be starving before a week is out. Come downstairs with me, Tommy, and we will look into this matter.”

So we went downstairs into the store-room and Polynesia told us to keep quite still and listen. This we did. And presently we heard from a dark corner of the hold the distinct sound of someone snoring.

“Ah, I thought so,” said Polynesia. “It’s a man—and a big one. Climb in there, both of you, and haul him out. It sounds as though he were behind that barrel—Gosh! We seem to have brought half of Puddleby with us. Anyone would think we were a penny ferry-boat. Such cheek! Haul him out.”

So Bumpo and I lit a lantern and climbed over the stores. And there, behind the barrel, sure enough, we found an enormous bearded man fast asleep with a well-fed look on his face. We woke him up.

“Washamarrer?” he said sleepily.

It was Ben Butcher, the able seaman.

Polynesia spluttered like an angry fire-cracker.

“This is the last straw,” said she. “The one man in the world we least wanted. Shiver my timbers, what cheek!”

“Would it not be, advisable,” suggested Bumpo, “while the varlet is still sleepy, to strike him on the head with some heavy object and push him through a port-hole into the sea?”

“No. We’d get into trouble,” said Polynesia. “We’re not in Jolliginki now, you know—worse luck!—Besides, there never was a port-hole big enough to push that man through. Bring him upstairs to the Doctor.”

So we led the man to the wheel where he respectfully touched his cap to the Doctor.

“Another stowaway, Sir,” said Bumpo smartly.

I thought the poor Doctor would have a fit.

“Good morning, Captain,” said the man. “Ben Butcher, able seaman, at your service. I knew you’d need me, so I took the liberty of stowing away—much against my conscience. But I just couldn’t bear to see you poor landsmen set out on this voyage without a single real seaman to help you. You’d never have got home alive if I hadn’t come—Why look at your mainsail, Sir—all loose at the throat. First gust of wind come along, and away goes your canvas overboard—Well, it’s all right now I’m here. We’ll soon get things in shipshape.”

“No, it isn’t all right,” said the Doctor, “it’s all wrong. And I’m not at all glad to see you. I told you in Puddleby I didn’t want you. You had no right to come.”

“But Captain,” said the able seaman, “you can’t sail this ship without me. You don’t understand navigation. Why, look at the compass now: you’ve let her swing a point and a half off her course. It’s madness for you to try to do this trip alone—if you’ll pardon my saying so, Sir. Why—why, you’ll lose the ship!”