Title:DoctorDolittle'sGarden

Author:HughLofting

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DOCTORDOLITTLE’SGARDENby

HUGHLOFTING

“TheDoctorclambereduptillhestoodwherethewingsjoinedthebody”

CONTENTSPARTONE

I.THEDOGMUSEUM2.QUETCH3.THEDICKWHITTINGTONDOG4.THECHILDREN’SHOSPITALITY5.GIPSYLIFE6.THEACROBAT7.THEMONASTERY8.THESHEPHERDINDISTRESS9.CITYLIFE10.THEHERMITDOG11.THETOP-KNOTTERRIERS12.DOGS’JOBS

PARTTWO

I.INSECTLANGUAGES2.FOREIGNINSECTS3.TANGERINE4.DOMESTICINSECTS5.THEWATERBEETLE6.THEENDOFTHEJOURNEY7.THECOLONYOFEXILES8.ALIFETIMEOFTWENTY-FOURHOURS9.DAB-DAB’SVIEWSONINSECTLIFE10.THEGIANTMOTHSII.OTHOTHEPREHISTORICARTIST12.“THEDAYSBEFORETHEREWASAMOON”13.MEMORIESOFLONGARROW14.BLINDTRAVELAGAIN15.GUB-GUBHALTSTHEGAME

PARTTHREE

1.BUMPOANDMAGIC2.THETAPPINGONTHEWINDOW3.THEGIANTRACE4.THEAWAKENINGOFTHEGIANT5.KEEPINGASECRET6.THEBUTTERFLIES’PARADISE7.THEHOMEOFTHEGIANTMOTH8.FLOWERSOFMYSTERY9.SMOKEONTHEMOON10.TOO-TOO’SWARNING11.OURMIDNIGHTVISITORS

PARTFOUR

1.BUMPOCLEARSTHEGARDEN2.THEMOUNTEDPOLICE3.THEERRAND4.THESTOWAWAY5.THEDOCTOR’SRECEPTION6.CROSSING“THEDEADBELT”7.THETWOSIDESOFTHEMOON8.THETREE

ILLUSTRATIONS

“TheDoctorclambereduptillhestoodwherethewingsjoinedthebody”(incolours)Frontispiece

“ProfessorQuetch”“TheywereseenbytheColonelandchased”“Thesemi-finalboutofawrestlingcontest”“Hewasamightygoodsheepdog”“Isetouttocarveacareerformyself”“Itwasonlyanoldtrampwakingup”“Shepromptlychasedmeoffwithabroom“Oneofthemcreptdownstairs”“Anothertimeitwouldbearoastchicken”“Ihadbeenlookingatthelinesinmypaw-pads”

“Mudgeshookhishead”“Icameuponanacrobatperforming”“Igotinsideitandstartedbarking”“Emptyingthemeatoutofit”“Dab-Dabsuddenlyappeared”“Ijoinedinthechorus”“Manywasthejollyrunwehadtogether“TellinghiswifethatIhadsavedtheday”“Thepacking-caseasakennelleftagooddealtobedesired”“Anoldladycalled”“Ifoundafineoldhollowtree““Battlingwiththemintheirownelement”“‘Whydon’tyoutrytogetintothedoctor’sclub?’“IsawaPunch-and-Judyshowgoingon”“TheDowagerCountesswasindespair”“ItwasCheapsideknockingontheglasswithhisbill”“‘Why,theyhaverealbrains,Dab-Dab!’”“‘We’dcallittheTop-knotterrier’”“Theirtop-knotsweretrimmedintoaverysmartshape”“TheseItookdown”“Themothsandbutterflieswereliberatedinanenclosedgarden”“Gub-Gubwascontinuallygettingstungbythewasps”“Heaskedseveralbirdstomakespecialtripsabroadforhim”“HeseemedhappiestwhenallowedtositontheDoctor’scollar”“Nooneelse’shandsweresmallenoughtowashawasp’slegs”“‘Howdoyouknow?’Iasked”“Hislongredmoustachepuffedoutlikethewhiskersonawalrus”“Thehorsegaveonebound”“‘Surely,Dab-Dab,’saidhe,‘wehavesomecockroaches!’”“‘Well,’saidshe,‘happilyJipgavehimverylittleencouragement’”“Hewasforevershootingaroundthisglassjar”“hetooktotheairwithacakeofmudoneachfoot”“Totheleftofwherethesunwasrisinglayalowlineofsomethingsittingon

thesea”“Imanoeuvredabouthimforawhile”“Cameupandgloweredatusthroughmurkywaters”“Thebeetlesinmynativepondturnedouttodomehonour”“‘Justthesame,it’sagoodidea,’hemutteredtoToo-Too”“Treeswhichhehadneverseenbeforegavehimideas”

“‘Aboutherrightwristsheworeabraceletofbeads’““‘Imusthaveheardhertellitatleastadozentimes’”“Eachcaterpillarhadtobefedonaspecialkindofleaf”“‘Ihopethisisoneofmyluckynights’”“Trippedoveramatandfellintoapail”“‘Shivermytimbers!’growledPolynesia”“‘Idon’tthinkit’spureoxygen,’saidtheDoctor”“‘Wasn’tthatatremorintheantennae?’”“ItookthecupofteaandpieceoftoastthatDab-Dabofferedme”“Too-TooandPolynesiawatchedfromtheridgeoftheroof”“Aswarmofgiantlizardsdescended*’Apartyofbaboonswerethefirsttoenterit’Oneveryearlymorningherushedintomyroom”“Hewaslookingthroughhisnewtelescope”“‘Whatelse?’saidToo-Too”“‘Isitfar,’Iasked,‘tothemoon?’”“Heconductedthemtowardstheheadofthesteps”“Peepingroundthecornersofthehouse”“Everytradesman’serrand-boystoppedandinquired”“‘Whatisit,Stubbins?’heasked”“Ikickedmyshoesoffandletthemfall”“NexttoitChee-Chee’sskullstoodoutagainstthemoonlitsky”“‘Stubbins!’saidhe,loweringhistelescope”“Hedidthisbymeansofthecreature’santennae”“For hours and hours the great creature turned over and over, apparently

helpless”“Itookapeepoutside”“TheDoctorhadhistelescopeout”

DoctorDolittle’sGarden

PARTONE

I.THEDOGMUSEUM

IsupposethereisnopartofmylifewiththeDoctorthatI,ThomasStubbins,lookbackonwithmorepleasurethanthatperiodwhenIwasAssistantManageroftheZoo.

Wehadcome,asIhavetoldyouelsewhere,tocallthatpartoftheDoctor’sgarden“AnimalTown.”Oneofmygreatestdifficultieswasinkeepingdownthemembershipinthevariousclubsandinstitutions.Becauseofcoursealimithadtobeputonthem.ThehardestonetokeepincheckwastheHomeforCrossbredDogs.Jipwasalwaystryingtosneakinsomewaiforstrayafterdark;andIhadto be quite stern and hard-hearted if I did not want the mongrels’ clubdisorganizedbyover-crowding.

ButwhiletheDoctorandIwereagreedthatwemustkeepafixedlimitonallmemberships,we encouraged development, expansion and new ideas of everykind on the part of the animals themselves that would help to make AnimalTownamore interestingandmorecomfortableplace to live in.Manyof thesewereextremelyinteresting.AmongthemwastheDogMuseum.

FormanyyearstheDoctorhadhadamuseumofhisown.Thiswasalargeroomnexttothestudywherebones,mineralspecimensandothernatural-historythings were kept. There is an old saying: Imitation is the sincerest form offlattery.Anaturalinterestinbonesoftenledthedogstocontemplatethisdisplayandfinallytostartamuseumoftheirown.

Thiswas helped to some extent by a peculiar dogwho had somemonthsbeforebecomeamemberoftheclub.Thepeculiarityofhischaracterwasthathehadaninbornpassionforcollecting.Prune-stones,umbrella-handles,door-knobs—therewasnoendtothevarietyofhiscollections.Healwaysmaintainedthathisprune-stonecollectionwasthelargestandfinestinthecountry.

Thisdog’snamewasQuetch.HewasagreatfriendofToby,whohadfirst

introduced him and put him up for membership at the club. He was a goodsecondtoTobyinupholdingtherightsofthesmalldogsattheclub-houseandseeingthattheydidn’tgetbulliedoutofanyoftheirprivileges.InfactBlackieandGrabalways said that the smalldogs,withTobyandQuetch tochampionthem, bossed the club a good dealmore than they had any business to.Well,Quetchitwas(hewasacrossbetweenaWestHighlandterrierandanAberdeen)whofirstsuggestedtheideathattheMongrels’Clubshouldhaveamuseumofitsown.Withhispassionforcollecting,hewasprobablycountingongettingthejob of museum curator for himself-which he eventually did. The HouseCommitteemet in solemn council to discuss the pros and cons andways andmeans.Theideawasfinallyadoptedbyalargemajorityvoteandasectionofthegymnasiumwasscreenedofftoformthefirstheadquartersofthemuseum.

Quetch(hewasalwayscalled“Professor”bytheothermembersoftheclub)—ProfessorQuetch,besidesbeingakeenscientist,hadageniusfororganizationalmostasgoodasthewhitemouse’s.AndevenhecouldnotfindfaultwiththegeneralenthusiasmwithwhichtheDogMuseumwassupported,andcontributedto,bythemembersoftheclub.TherewashardlyadogintheHomewhodidn’tturntocollectingandbringinginmaterial.AndQuetchthecuratorhadhispawsmore than full receiving and arranging the continuous flow of specimens ofeverykindthatpouredin.

The Museum was not confined to natural history. It was also anarchaeological or historical museum. The bones department was perhaps thelargest.Personally,Idon’tthinkthatanystudentofcomparativeanatomywouldhavefounditscientificallyveryhelpful.Forthebonesweremostlybeef,muttonandhambones.

Butnotall.Therewerefishbones.Infacttherewasonewholefish,whichProfessorQuetchproudlyorderedmetolabel,“TheOldestFishintheWorld”Icouldwell believe itwas.Blackie the retriever haddug it up—from theplacewhere someonehadcarefullyburied it a long timeago. Itsodourwas so far-reachingthatthemembersoftheBadgers’Tavern(whichwasatleastahundredyardsawayfromtheHomeforCrossbredDogs)sentinarequestthatsomethingbe done about it. They said thatwhile theywere not usually over-sensitive tosmells, this one kept them awake at night. Professor Quetch was very muchannoyed and sent amessage back to the badgers that theywere a lot of low-brow,meddlesomebusybodieswhodidn’t appreciate science.But someof theDoctor’sneighboursacrossthestreetalsocomplained;andthe“oldestfishintheworld”hadtogo—backtothegarbageheap.

“ProfessorQuetch”The archaeological side of the Dog Museum was even more varied and

extensive than the natural history departments. Here could be foundQuetch’sownpricelesscollectionofprune-stones,umbrellahandlesanddoor-knobs.Buttheseformedonlyasmallpartofthewhole.Thehabitofdigging—generallyforrats—naturaltoalldogs,nowledtotheunearthingoftreasuresofeveryvariety.Saucepan-lids,bentspoons, tophats,horse-shoes, tincans,piecesof ironpipe,brokentea-pots,therewashardlyanythinginthewayofhardwareanddomesticfurnishingsthatwasn’trepresented.AsockwhichhadbeenwornfullofholesbythegreatDoctorhimselfwasoneofthemostsacredandimportantexhibits.

For thefirst fewdays therewasageneral frenzyofdigging.JipandKlinghadheardtheDoctorsaythattheRomanshadoncehadamilitarycamponthesitenowoccupiedby the townofPuddleby.Theyweredetermined that they’dfindRomanjewelryiftheyonlydugpatientlyenough.AmongotherplacestheytriedwasColonelBellowes’ tulipbed.Theyhad justdugupabulbwhentheywere seenby theColonel andchased.But theygot away—andhomewith thebulb.And thatwas how theBotanicalDepartment of themuseumbegan.The

bulbinquestionhadalabelsetunderitreading:“ThisOrchidwas donated by the famous naturalist and explorer, Jip. The

intrepid collector was disturbed at his work and chased for miles by savagenatives.He eluded his pursuers however and succeeded in bringing back thispricelessspecimentotheDogMuseum.”

“TheywereseenbytheColonelandchased”

2.QUETCH

TheDogMuseumcontinued formuch longer than I had thought itwould.Myprivateopinionhadbeenthatthedogswereonlycaptivatedbythenoveltyoftheideaandwoulddropitaltogetherwhenitsnewnesshadwornoff.Someweeksafter itsbeginning thecollectionshadgrownso fast that they filled thewhole gymnasium. During the semi-final bout of a wrestling contest a GreatDanethrewBlackietheretrieverthroughthedividingscreenandlandedhimin

themiddle of theBotanicalDepartment. Itwas clear that the gymnasiumwasgettingcrowdedoutbythemuseum.

“Thesemi-finalboutofawrestlingcontest”SoasecondmeetingoftheHouseCommitteewascalled.Anditwasdecided

thatsinceathleticswereequallyimportantasscience,mostofthejunkshouldbethrownout, andonly those thingskept thatwere reallygenuineandof specialapplicationtodogsandDogHistory.

Jip’sfamousgoldencollar(whichheonlyworeonholidaysandoccasionsofimportance) wasmade one of the star exhibits. There were also a few boneswhichProfessorQuetchinsistedhadbeenchewedbythegreatdogsofhistory.Therewas,also,asmallkegwhichhesaidhadbeencarriedroundthenecksofthe St.Bernard dogswhowent to the aid of lost travellers in the snow-sweptpassesoftheAlps.Howheknewtherecordoftheserelicsnoonecouldtell.Ontheotherhand,noonecoulddenyitwhenheputupalabelunderavealbonesayingthatthisobjecthadbeentheearliestplaythingoftheEmpressJosephine’spetpoodle.

Atallevents,theenormousarrayofhardwareandrubbishwhichhadformed

thefirstdisplaysgaveplacetooneortwoglasscaseswhereasmallcollectionofobjects of great virtue was set forth. And for many years these remained apermanentpartoftheinstitution,andallvisitors,whetherdogsorpeople,wereshownthem.ProfessorQuetchneverallowedvisitorsintothemuseum,however,withoutpersonallyconductingthem,toseethattheydidn’tleanonthecases—iftheywerepeople—or,iftheyweredogs,thattheydidn’ttakeawaythehistoricbones.

Thethirdstoryinthe“TalesoftheHomeforCrossbredDogs”wasJip’sowntale of howhe had posed for the greatGeorgeMorland and helped theLameMan’sDog earnmoney for his crippledmaster.For the fourth storyProfessorQuetchhimselfwas calledupon.BothToby andKlinghadoften toldme thattheyknewthathehadledratheraninterestinglife,andIcouldwellbelieveit,for hewas certainly a dog of individuality and character.Hewas not easy topersuadehowever.Inspiteofhisbeing,likeToby,aself-important,plucky,littleanimal, he wasn’t boastful or given to talking about himself. He had always,whenasked to tell the storyofhis life,made the excuse thathewas toobusywithhisdutiesascuratorofthemuseum.

However, now that themuseumhadbeen considerably reduced in size, hedidnothavetogivesomuchattentiontoit.AndonedayJipcametomehighlydelightedwiththenewsthatQuetchhadpromisedtomorrownighttogiveusanaccountofhislifewhichwastobeentitled“TheStoryoftheDogWhoSetOuttoSeekHisFortune.”

Feelingitwouldprobablybeagoodyarnwelltold,IaskedtheDoctorifhewould come and listen. In former times he had frequently attended the dogs’after-supper story-tellings. But of late he had seldom had the time to spare.However, he saidhewouldmake this a special occasion andbe therewithoutfail.

When the followingnight came theDogs’DiningRoomwas jammed.Fornotonlywaseverysinglememberpresent,eagerlywaitingtoheartheyarn,butit turnedout that thiswasGuestNight, the secondFriday in themonth,whenmemberswereallowedtobringfriendstodinnerasguestsoftheClub.

“I was born,” Professor Quetch began, “of poor but honest parents. Myfatherwasahard-workingAberdeenterrierandmymotherwasaWestHighlandof excellent pedigree. Our owners were small farmers in Scotland.My fatherhelpedregularlywiththesheep.Inspiteofhissize,hewasamightygoodsheepdogandcouldroundupaflockorcutoutasingleewefromtheherdwithgreatskill.Whenwechildrenwerepuppieswegotfedwellenough,becausewewereeasy to feed, not requiringmuchmore thanmilk.But as soon aswebegan togrowupintoregulardogsitwasanotherstory.Wesawthenthatthefarmerthat

ownedushadhardlyenoughfoodmostofthetimetofeedhisownfamilyandthehandswhoworkedforhim,letalonealargelitterofhungryterriers.

“Hewasamightygoodsheepdog”“We lived in a stable behind the farmhousewherewe had an old disused

horse-stall toourselves. Itwaswell linedwithdrystraw, snugandwarm.OnenightIhappenedtolieawakelateandIoverheardmymotherandfathertalking.TheirnameswereJockandJenny.

“‘Youknow,Jock,’saidmymother,‘verysoonthatfarmerisgoingtogetridofthesepuppiesofours.Iheardhimtalkingaboutitonlytheotherday.’

“‘Well,’saidmyfather,‘Isupposethatwastobeexpected.They’llkeeponeortwo,I imagine.IhopetheyleaveQuetchhere.Heseemsabrightyoungsterand is already quite a help tomewith those silly sheep. For the rest, I thinkthey’reratherstupid.’

“‘Stupidindeed!’snappedmymotherwithgreatindignation.‘They’reeverybitascleverastheirfather,that’scertain.’

“‘Allright,haveityourownway,Jenny,’saidmyfather,snugglinghisnosedown into the straw to go to sleep—he never cared for arguments anyway

—‘have it your ownway. But you can hardly expectMcPherson to keep thewholelitterwhenhecanbarelysupporthisownfamily.’

“WiththatmyfatherfellasleepandIfelltothinking.Firstofall,itseemedtomeverywrongthatdogsshouldbedisposedofinthishaphazard,hit-and-missfashion. If we were given away, to whomwould we be given? Had dogs norights at all? My father was a worker on the farm, doing his daily job asfaithfullyandaswellasanyoftheclodhopperswhodrovetheploughorcutthecorn.Andherehewascalmlytalkingabouthisownchildrenbeinggivenawayasthoughtheywereapplesorturnips!Itmademequiteangry.I layawakefarintothenightwonderingwhydogswerenotallowedtoleadtheirownlivesandshapetheirowncareers.Itwasanoutrage.Igotmyselfquiteworkedupoverit.AndbeforeIfellasleepImadeupmymindthatnoonewasgoingtogivemeawayasthoughIwerenomorethananoldpairofshoes.Iwasanindividual,thesameas the farmerhimself.And Iwasgoing tomake theworld acknowledgethatfactorknowthereasonwhy.”

3.THEDICKWHITTINGTONDOG

“Perhapstheonlynotablethingaboutthisyarnofmineisthatitisthestoryofadogtryingtoleadhisownlife.Iknowofcoursethattherearemanyofyoupresentwhohavestruggledtodothesame.ThatwasonereasonwhyIwasn’tkeentotellastory:Ididn’tfeel thatmylifehadanythingparticularlythrillingabout it. But at all events what small adventures I ran into may have beendifferentfromyourown,andthewayIattackedtheproblemofwinninglibertyandindependenceformyselfmayinterestyou.

“Afewdaysafter Ihadoverheardmyparents’conversation Ibegan toseethat my mother’s fears were right. Almost every day McPherson the farmerwouldbringfriendsofhisintoseeus,hopingthey’dbewillingtoadoptoneorotherofus.Asluckwouldhaveit,Iwasselectedtheveryfirst.Astupidfatman—Ithinkhewasafarmertoo—chosemeoutofthewholelitter.Iwouldn’thavechosen him from among a million. He had no wits at all and no—er—refinement, nonewhatever.He turnedmeover andproddedmeand examinedmeasthoughIwereapigforthefattingmarketinsteadofadog.IdeterminedrightawaythatwhateverhappenedIwouldn’tbecomehisproperty.Luckilyhecouldn’t takeme immediately and he askedMcPherson to keepme for him acoupleofdays,attheendofwhichhewouldcomeandfetchme.

“Ihadheardofboyssettingouttoseektheirfortunes.Neverofadog.And

yetwhynot?ThemoreIthoughtoftheidea,themoreitappealedtome.IhadtogosomewhereifIdidn’twanttobetakenawaybythatstupidman.Ihadseennothingoftheworldsofar.Verywellthen:Iwouldsetouttoseekmyfortune—yes,tomorrow!

“The next morning I was up before any of the farm was stirring. I hadcollectedseveraloldbones,andwiththeseasallmyearthlypossessionstiedupin a red handkerchief, I set out to carve a career formyself. I remember themorningsowell.ItwaslateintheFallandthedaylightwouldnotappearforanhouryet.ButanoldroosterwasalreadycrowinginahoarsevoicethroughthemistychillairasIgainedtheroadandlookedbackatthefarmbuildingshuddledinthegloomofthehollow.WithalightheartIwavedmytailathimandtrottedoffdowntheroad.

“Isetouttocarveacareerformyself”“Dear me, how inexperienced I was! I realize that now. Literally I knew

nothing—not even the geography of the immediate neighbourhood around thefarm.Ididn’tknowwheretheroadIwastravellingalongledto.Butatthattimesuchathingonlyaddedtothethrilloftheadventure.Iwouldsticktothisroad,I

toldmyself,andseewhatfortuneitbroughtmeto.“AfterIhadjoggedalongforaboutanhourIbegantofeelverymuchlike

breakfast.Ithereforeretiredofftheroadintoahedgeandopenedmybundleofbones.Iselectedahambonewhichhadnotbeenquitesothoroughlychewedasthe rest and set to work on it. My teeth were young and good and I soonmanagedtognawoffthehalfofit.

“AfterthatIfeltmuchbetter,thoughstillsomewhathungry.Ire-packedmybaggage,butjustasIwasabouttosetoffIthoughtIheardanoisetheothersideofthehedge.VeryquietlyIcreptthrough,thinkingImightsurprisearabbitandget a better breakfast.But I found itwas only an old trampwaking up in themeadowwhere,Isuppose,hehadspentthenight.Ihadafellowfeelingforhim.Hewashomelesstoo,and,likeme,agentlemanoftheroad.WithinthethicketIlayandwatchedhimamoment.Therewasaherdofcowsinthefield.Presentlythetrampwentandbeganmilkingoneofthemintoatinwhichhecarried.Whenhehad the tin filledhebrought itback to thecornerof thefieldwherehehadsleptandsetitdown.Thenhewentaway—Isupposetogetsomethingelse.ButwhilehewasgoneIcreptoutofthehedgeanddrankupallthemilk.

“Itwasonlyanoldtrampwakingup”“Considerably refreshed, I set off along the road. But I hadn’t gonemore

than a few hundred yards when I thought I’d go back and make the tramp’sacquaintance.Maybe I felt sort of guilty about themilk.But anywaya fellowfeelingforthisadventurerwhomIhadrobbedmademeturnback.

“When I regained the corner of the meadow I saw him in the distancemilking the cowagain. Iwaited till he returned.Then I cameout and showedmyself.

“‘Ah,youngfellerme lad!’sayshe. ‘So itwasyouwhopinchedmymilk.Well,nomatter.Igotsomemorenow.Comehere.What’syourname?’

“Well,heseemedadecentsortofmanandIkindofpalledontohim.Iwasgladof his company.Onboth sides it seemed to be taken for granted thatwewouldtraveltogetheralongtheroad.HewasmuchbetteratforagingfoodthanIwas—insomeways;andIwasbetterthanhewasinothers.Atthefarmhousesheusedtobegmealswhichhealwayssharedwithme.AndIcaughtrabbitsandpheasants for himwhich he cooked over a fire by the roadside. Together wemanagedverywell.

“We went through several towns on our way and saw many interestingthings. He allowed me complete liberty. That I will always remember to hiscredit. Often at nights we nearly froze. But he was a good hand at findingsleeping-places,burrowingintothesidesofhaystacks,openingupoldbarnsandsuchlike.Andhealwaysspreadpartofhiscoatovermewhenhelaydowntosleep.”

4.THECHILDREN’SHOSPITALITY

“But theday soon camewhenmynew friendplayedme false.Hewantedmoney.Ifancyitwastogetcoach-faretogotosomeotherpartofthecountry.Idon’tknow.Anywayoneafternoonheknockedata farmhousedoor. I thoughtthatasusualhewasgoingtoaskforfood.Imaginemyhorrorwhenhesaidtothewomanwhoansweredthedoor,‘Doyouwanttobuyadog,Ma’am?’

“Ijustran.Ilefthimstandingatthedoorthereandneverlookedback.ItwassuchashocktomyfaithinhumannaturethatforthepresentIdidnothingbutfeelblue.Puzzled, Iwentondowntheroad,stillseekingmyfortune,alone. Itwasonly later that Ibegan tofeelangryand indignant.Thecheekof theman,tryingtosellmewhenhehadn’tevenboughtme!—Me,thefreecompanionofthe roadwhohadbeen in partnershipwith him!Why, I had caught dozens of

rabbitsandpheasantsforthatungratefultramp.Andthatwashowherepaidme!“After joggingmiserablyalongforafewmilesIcameuponsomechildren

playing with a ball. They seemed nice youngsters. I was always fond of ballgamesandIjustjoinedinthisone,chasedtheballwheneveritrolledawayandgotitforthem.Icouldseetheyweredelightedtohavemeandforquiteawhilewehadaverygoodtimetogether.

“Then the children found itwas time to go home to supper. I had no ideawheremyown supperwascoming fromso Idecided I’dgoalongwith them.Maybetheywouldletmejointhemattheirmealtoo,Ithought.TheyappearedmorepleasedthaneverwhenIstartedtofollowthem.Butwhentheymettheirmotherat thegateandtoldherthatIhadplayedwiththemandfollowedthemhome shepromptly chasedmeoffwith a broom.Straydogs, she said, alwayshaddiseases.Goodnessonlyknowswhereshegotthatfrom!Straydogstoo,ifyouplease.Toher every animalwhowasn’t taggedon to some stupid humanmustbeastray,somethingtobepitied,somethingdisgraceful.Wellanyway,togoon: that night it did seem tome as thoughmankindwere divided into twoclasses: those that enslaved dogswhen theywanted to be free; and those thatchasedthemawaywhentheywantedtobefriendly.

“Shepromptlychasedmeoffwithabroom”“Oneofthechildren,alittlegirl,begantocrywhenhermotherdrovemeoff,

sayingshewassureIwashungry.—WhichIwas.Shehadmoresensethanhermother, had that child. However I thought I’d use a little strategy. So I justpretended togooff;but Ididn’tgofar.Whenthe lightswere lit in thedining-roomIwaited till I saw themother’s shadowonablind inanotherpartof thehouse.Iknewthenthatthechildrenwouldbealoneattheirsupper.Islippeduptothewindow,hoppedontothesillandtappedgentlyonthepanewithmypaw.Atfirstthechildrenwereabitscared,Iimagine.Butpresentlyoneofthemcameover,raisedthecorneroftheblindandsawmesquattingonthesilloutside.

“Well, tomakea long story short, theyoungstersnotonly tookme in,buttheystowedmeawayinaclosetsotheirmotherwouldn’tseemeandgavemeafinesquaremealintothebargain.AndaftertheyweresupposedtobefastasleeponeofthemcreptdownstairsandtookmeuptotheirnurserywhereIsleptundera bed on a grand soft pillowwhich they spread forme. Thatwaswhat I callhospitality.Neverwasatrampdogtreatedbetter.

“Oneofthemcreptdownstairs”“InthemorningImanagedtoslipoutunseenbyMamaandoncemoreIhit

the trail.Not onlywasone child crying this time, but thewhole four of themweresnifflingat thegardengateasIsaidgoodbye. Ioften lookbackon thosechildren’shospitalityasoneof thehappiestepisodes inmyentirecareer.Theycertainlyknewhowtotreatdogs—andsuchpeople,asweallknow,arescarce.Ihatedtoleavethem.AndIdon’tbelieveIwouldhavedoneifithadn’tbeenfortheirmamaandherinsultingremarkaboutallstraydogshavingdiseases.Thatwastoomuch.So,withagoodplateofoatmealporridgeandgravyinsideme—whichthechildrenhadsecretlygivenmeforbreakfast—Ifacedthefuturewithastout heart and wondered as I trotted along the highwaywhat Fortune wouldbringforwardnext,”

5.GIPSYLIFE

“AboutthreemilesfurtheronIovertookaGipsycaravancreepingalongtheroadthroughthemorningmist.Attherearoftheprocessionadogwasscoutingaroundintheditchesforrats.IhadnevermetaGipsydog,so,rathercurious,Iwent up to him and offered to help him hunt for rats. He seemed a sort of agrouchysilent fellowbut I likedhimforall that.Hemadenoobjection tomyjoininghimandtogetherwegaveseveralratsagoodrunfortheirmoney.

“LittlebylittleIdrewtheGipsydogoutandquestionedhimastowhatsortofalifeitwastotravelwiththecaravans.Thesepeopletoowerefolkoftheroadlikeme,andIhadseriousthoughtsofthrowinginmylotwiththemforawhile.FromwhathetoldmeIgatheredthatadogledquiteafreelifewiththeGipsiesandwasinterferedwithverylittle.

“‘The grub is kind of irregular,’ said my friend, who had got over hisgrouchinesssomewhatandseemedinclinedtotaketome.‘Butthenthewholeofthe Gipsy business is irregular, one might say. If you can stand that you’llprobablyratherlikethelife.It’sinteresting,travellingaroundallthetime.Wedoseetheworld,afterall.Ifwehavehardships,atleastit’sbetterthanbeingtreatedlikealapdog,trottedoutonaleashandlivingonthesamestreetall thetime.Why don’t you try it for awhile? Just tag alongwithme.No onewillmind.Likelyasnot theGipsies themselveswillneverevennotice thatyou’ve joinedthecaravan—atleastnotforafewdaysanyhow.’

“IdidnotneedverymuchpersuasionanditturnedouteventuallythatIdidjoin theGipsiesandonthewholehadquiteagoodtimewith them.Myfriendhad certainly been right about the food.To say itwas irregularwas putting itmildly.Thereweremanydaysandnightswhentheresimplywasn’tany.ButtheGipsydog,throughlongexperienceinthiskindoflife,knewallsortsofdodgesforgettingprovenderunderdifficultconditions.Istronglysuspectthatmyfriendwasoneofthecleverestlarderburglarsthateverlived.OftenIdidn’tevenknowwherehegotthesuppliesfromandnoamountofquestioningwouldmakehimtell.Many a nightwhenwewere both starving, around supper time,with theprospectofgoingtobedhungrybeneaththecaravans,Mudgewouldsaytome—thatwashisname,Mudge—

“‘Oh, golly! I’m not going to bed hungry. Listen, Quetch: I think I knowwhereImaybeabletoraisesomefodder.Youwaithereforme.’

“‘ShallIcometoo?’I’dsay.“‘Er—no. Better not, I think,’ he’d mutter. ‘Hunting is sometimes easier

single-handed.’“Thenoffhewouldgo.Andinhalfanhourhe’dbebackagainwiththemost

extraordinarythings.Onenighthewouldbringasteak-and-kidneypudding,tiedup in the muslin it was boiled in—complete, mind you, and steaming hot.

Another time it would be a roast chicken, stuffedwith sage and onions, withsausagesskeweredtoitssides.

“Anothertimeitwouldbearoastchicken”“Of course it didn’t takemuch detectivework to tell, on occasions of this

kind, that Mudge had just bagged some one else’s dinner. I’m afraid I wasusually far too hungry to waste time moralizing over where the things camefrom. Still, I strongly suspect that some good housewives called down manycursesonMudge’sheadduringthecourseofhiscareer.Butthemarvellousthingtomewashowhediditwithouteverbeingcaught.

“Yetthelifewascertainlypleasantforthemostpart.Wevisitedallthefairsandsawthetownsinholidaymood.ItwasinthesedaysthatImetToby,whowas, as you know, then a Punch-and-Judy dog. Yes, I liked the Gipsy life—chiefly becausewewere nearly always in the country,where a dog’s life hasmost fun in it. Along the lanes there were always rats to dig for; across themeadows there were always hares to chase; and in the roadside woods andcopsestherewerealwayspheasantsandpartridgestocatch.

“Thatchapterofmylife lastedabout threemonthsand itended,asdid the

onebefore it, suddenly.Wehadbeenvisiting a fair in a townof considerablesize. Part of our own show was a fortune-telling booth. Here an old Gipsywoman,themotherofourboss,usedtotellpeople’sfortuneswithcards.Apartyofquitewell-to-dofolkstoppedattheboothonedaytohavetheirfortunestold.MudgeandIwerehangingaroundoutsidethetent.

“‘Let’sgetawayfromhere,’hewhispered tome. ‘Idon’t like the looksofthismob.Ilostafriendlikethatoncebefore.’

“‘Likewhat?’Iasked.“‘Oh,Joe,’saidMudge.—Joewasthenameofourboss.—‘Joenevernotices

any straydogswho join thecaravan till somebodyelsenotices them.Thenhetriestosellthem….Thisfriendofminewasawhippet.OneofthevisitorstotheboothtookafancytohimandJoejustsoldhimthenandthere.I’dnevergetsoldbecauseI’mnotnifty-looking.Butyou,you’resmartenoughtocatchanyone’seye—speciallythewomen.Takemyadvice;fadeawaytillthismob’sgone.’

“Mudgewasalreadymovingoff,but Icalledhimback. Iwas interested inthis fortune-telling business. I hoped to get my own fortune told by the oldwoman.Shereadpeople’spalms.Ihadbeenlookingatthelinesinmypaw-padsand they seemed tomequiteunusual.The future interestedme. Iwaskeen toknowwhatsortofacareerIhadbeforeme.Ifeltitoughttobeagreatone.

“Ihadbeenlookingatthelinesinmypaw-pads”“‘Just aminute,Mudge,’ I said. ‘Why get worried?How can Joe sellme

whenIdon’tbelongtohim?’“‘Don’t you worry about that,’ saidMudge. ‘Joe would sell anything, the

HousesofParliamentorthecoatoffthePrimeMinister’sback—ifhecould.Awordtothewise.Fadeaway.’

“Mudge’s advice was sound, but for me it came a bit late. I noticed as IturnedtofollowhimthatoneofthewomenwasalreadypointingatmeandthatJoe, to whom she was talking, was very interested in the interest she wasshowing.ForabouthalfanhourafterthatIsawnothingmoreofMudge.Ihadmoved round to another part of the fair grounds till the visitors should havedepartedfromthefortune-tellingbooth.

“WhileIwaslookingatastrongmanliftingweightstheGipsydogsuddenlycameuptomefrombehindandwhispered:

“‘It’sallup,Quetch.You’llhavetoclearout.Thatwomanlikedyousomuchthatshesaidshe’dbuyyouwhenJoeofferedyoutoher.Heishuntingforyoueverywherenow.’

“‘But why,’ I asked, ‘can’t I just keep out of the way till the woman hasgone?’

“‘Itisnouse,’saidMudge.‘Joewon’tresttillhehassoldyou,nowthatheknows you’re the kind of dog the ladies take a fancy to.What’s more, if hemissesthissalehewilllikelykeepyouonachainrightalong,soastomakesureofyounexttimesomeonewantstobuyyou.’

“‘Good gracious,Mudge!’ I cried. ‘Would he really do that? But tell me:Whydoyouyourselflivewithsuchaman?Comewithmeandwewillgoofftogether.’

“Mudgegrinnedandshookhishead.

“Mudgeshookhishead”“‘Joe isall right tome,’hesaid.‘Hemaynotbewhatyou’dcallexactlya

gentleman.Buthe’sallrighttome.You’reastranger,yousee.Helooksonmeasoneofthetribe,theRomanyfolk,youunderstand.Theirhandisagainsteveryman,butnotagainstoneanother.EvenifIweregoodenoughlookingtobringhimaten-poundnoteIdoubtifJoewouldsellme.Heisaqueerone,isJoe.Buthe’salwaysbeensquaretome….No,Quetch,I’llstaywiththecaravan,withthe

Romanyfolk.Onceavagabond,alwaysavagabond,theysay.I’llmissyou.But,well…Goodlucktoyou,Quetch…Betterbegoingnow.IfJoeoncelayshandsonyouyou’llnevergetawaytillhesellsyou,youcanbesureofthat.’

“So,verysadatheart—forIhadgrownveryfondofthestrangeMudge,theGipsymongrel, thedogof fewwords—I left the fair and struckout along theroadagain,theRoadofFortune,alone.

“Dearme,what an unsatisfactoryworld itwas!When one did find a nicekindoflifesomethingorsomebodyalwaysseemedtoshoveyououtofitjustasyouwerebeginningtoenjoyit.

“Still,Ihadmuchoftheworldtoseeyet.Andafterall,myexperiencessofarhadnotbrought tomethat ideal independentsortof life thatIwaslookingfor.IwassorryIhadnotbeenabletohavemyfortunetold.Ilookedatmypawagain.Iwassureitmustbeagoodone.Itwasanicesunnyday.Isoonthrewasidemygloomythoughtsandtrottedforward,eagertoseewhateverynewturnintheroadmightbring.”

6.THEACROBAT

“ThatdayIhadverybadluckinthematteroffood.Ihardlygotanythingtoeatallday.BytheeveningIwaspositivelyravenous.Icametoatown.Hopingtopickupbonesorscrapsthatotherdogshadleft,Isearchedseveralbackyards.But all I got was two or three fights with wretched inhospitable curs whoobjectedtomycomingintotheirpremises.

“Then,famishedandveryboredwithlife,Iwanderedthroughthestreets.AtacornerIcameuponanacrobatperforming.Hewasstandingonhishandsanddoingsomersaultsandthingslikethat.Hewasallalone.Therewasahatlaidonthecurb-stoneinfrontofhim,andfromtimetotimepeoplethrewcoppersintoit.

“Icameuponanacrobatperforming”“Thissetmethinking.Themanwasevidentlymakinghislivingthisway.In

mylifewiththeGipsiesIhadoftenseendog-actsinthecircusring.SomeofthetricksIhadpractisedmyselfwhenIhadhadanotiontogoinforacircuscareer,andIhadbecomeskilledinquiteafewofthem.Icouldstandonmyfrontpaws,begwithalumpofsugaronmynose,throwabacksomersaultandsoforth.Verywellthen,Isaidtomyself,whyshouldn’tIgiveaone-dogshowonthestreetsofthistownthesameasthemanwasdoing?ButIneededahatforthepeopletothrow money into—only in my case I hoped they would throw cutlets andsausagesinstead.Yes,thefirstthingtodowastogetahat.

“Iknewthathatsweretobefoundinshopsandongarbage-heaps.Isetoffand hunted round the backs of houses. The garbage-heaps of this town hadeverything on thembut hats.Most annoying.Where could I find one? Imusthave a hat. I passed a hat shop.The shop-keeperwas busywriting in a book.Therewerelotsofhatsonthecounterandmanymore,inboxes,onthefloor.Iwasdesperate.Hecouldeasilysparemeone—hehadsomany.Idashedinandtriedmyluck.Botherit!Icouldn’tgetthehatoutoftheboxquickenough.The

shop-keeperthrewhisbookatmeandchasedmeout.“Iwentondownthestreet.“‘Nevermind,’Isaidtomyself.‘I’llgetahat,somehow,yet.’“AsI turnedthecorner intoanotherstreetIsawanoldgentlemancrossing

theroad.Hewasallmuffledupandfullofdignity.Andonhisheadhehadaneleganthighhat—justthekindofhatIwantedformyperformance.

“‘Ah!’Isaidtomyself.‘IfIcanonlytripthatoldgentlemanup,hishatwillrolloffandIcantakeittoanotherpartofthetownandbeginmyshow.’

“Nosoonersaidthandone.Ileaptoutintotheroadandranbetweenhisfeet.Hestumbledandcamedownwithagruntonhisstomach.Hishatrolledintothegutter. Igrabbed itandshotoffdownthestreet.Before theoldgentlemanhadtimetopickhimselfupIwasroundthecornerandoutofsight.

“Ididn’tstoprunningtillIgottoanentirelydifferentpartofthetown,quiteadistance away.Here I felt Iwas safe frompursuit. I foundmyself at a busystreetcorner.

“‘Now,’Ithought,‘thenextthingistocollectacrowd.’“Isetthetophatonthecurb-stone,gotinsideitandstartedbarkingforallI

wasworth.Verysoonpassers-bybegantostopandwonderwhatitwasallabout.Iwentonyelping—IwassorryIhadn’tadrum,that’swhatIshouldhavehad.Then I got out of the high hat, bowed to the audience and beganmy show. Ibegged,stoodonmyfrontpaws,threwsomersaults,etc.Itwasquiteasgoodashowastheacrobathadgiven—betterinfact.

“Igotinsideitandstartedbarking”“Theaudiencedidn’tknowquitewhattomakeofit.Theygapedandgaped.

Thentheybeganaskingoneanother,‘Where’shismaster?…Who’shewith?’“The silly people couldn’t believe I was my ownmaster, giving my own

show.Afteralittletheycametotheconclusionitwassomenewtrick,thatmymaster had hidden himself somewhere near and was just proving howwonderfully Ihadbeen trainedbynotappearingon thescenehimself tillaftertheperformancewasover.Thenpenniesbegandroppingintothehat.Thatwasallverywell,butIcouldn’teatpennies.

“HoweverthecrowdfinallydidrealizethatIwasentirelyonmyown.Andsomeold ladies in the audience, insteadof givingme coins, took theirmoneyintoabutcher’sshopnearbyandboughtsomemeattogiveme.ThisIgobbledupwithgreatrelishandtheywentandgotsomemore.Thecrowdgrewbiggerand biggermeanwhile.Andpretty soon, eating between somersaults, Iwas asfull as an egg and I couldn’t have done another trick if you had givenme akingdom.

“Well,myactearnedmeaverysquaremeal,butitalsonearlycostmemy

liberty.Why is it that people just can’t seem tounderstand that a dogmaybesatisfied to be his own boss? Beforemy show had gone very farmanywell-meaningpeopleamongtheaudiencedecidedtheyoughttoadoptme.

”’Such a clever little dog!’ cried one old lady. ‘I think I’ll take him homewithme—that is, ifnoonereallyownshim.Didyouseethewayheate thosesausagesIgavehim?Hemustbestarving.Heoughttohaveagoodhome,suchacleverdog.’

“AtthatImadeupmymindtoclosemyactinahurry.Butitwasn’tatalleasytogetaway,Ifound.BythistimeIhadattractedsuchacrowdatthecornerthatthetrafficwasheldup.Peoplewerejammedinaroundmelikeasolidwall.Severalpersonsintheaudiencebegantoargueastowhichofthemshouldadoptme. I should have been flattered no doubt but I wasn’t. I looked aroundfranticallyforameansofescape.

“Then suddenly the old gentlemanwhose hat I had stolen cameup on theoutskirtsofthethrongandrecognizedhistopper,filledwithpiecesofmeatandcalves’ liver, sitting on the curb-stone. Furiouswith rage he beganmilling hiswayinthroughthemob.Whilehewaspickinguphishatandemptyingthemeatoutofit—Ihadn’tbeenabletoeatmorethanhalfofthecrowd’scontributions—I scuttledout through the lanehehadmadecoming in.Thepeople’s attentionwas suddenly turned tohis lamentations and the storyofhow Ihad stolenhishat.AndwhiletheywerelisteningIgotthroughintomoreopencountryinthemiddleofthestreet.

“Emptyingthemeatoutofit”“Butthecrowdwasnotlonginmissingme.“‘Stophim!Grabhim!He’sgettingaway!‘someonecalled.“AndthenasIboltedroundthecornerIrealizedthatIhadthewholetown

chasingme.“Ihadeatensomanysausagesandvealkidneysandporkchopsthatrunning

atallwasnoeasymatter.HoweverIsawplainlythatifIwasgoingtokeepmytreasuredlibertyIhadgottoputmybestfootforward.

“Luckily it was quite dark now. And as soon as I got off the mainthoroughfares, away from the shops and into the dimly lit back streets I soongavethecrowdtheslip.

“Tenminuteslater,whenIsloweddownontheopenroadagainoutsidethetown,Isaidtomyself—

“‘Well,Iearnedmyownlivingto-nightallright.ButnexttimeIdoitI’lltrysomeotherway.’”

7.THEMONASTERY

Quetch’sstoryhadnowbeengoingonforsomehours.Andtheattentionoftheaudiencelotslackenedintheleast.Formypart,whilemyfingersfeltabitstiff fromwriter’scramp (foryoumust remember Iwas takingdownall thesestories inshort-hand, tobeput into thebook,Talesof theHomeforCrossbredDogs),Iwasstilltoodeeplyabsorbedinthehistoryofthisstrangelittleterriertobotheraboutthetime.NeitherhaditoccurredtotheDoctortolookathiswatch.AnditisquitelikelythatwewouldallhavesatontherelisteningtillthecockscrowedifDab-DabhadnotsuddenlyappearedandtoldusthatitwaslongaftermidnightandhightimethattheDoctorwasabed.

“Dab-Dabsuddenlyappeared”SotherestoftheStoryoftheDogWhoSetOuttoSeekHisFortunewasput

offtillthefollowingnight.ButwhenthenexteveningcameIcouldseebytheeagerwaythecrowdgot

readytolistenthatthedelayhadonlymadethemthatmuchkeenertohearthe

remainderofit.“The next chapter in my story,” Quetch continued, “was rather odd—

peacefulbutodd.Thecolderweatherwascomingon—foritwaslateintheyear.When I felt that I was well beyond the reach of pursuit of the angry oldgentlemanandthetownsfolk,Ibegantokeepaneyeopenforadecentplacetosleep.ThebestIcouldfindwasahaystack,intowhichIburrowedasortofholeandcurledmyselfupinside.IwasjustabouttodropoffwhenabitingcoldwindsprangupintheEastandbeganblowingrightintomylittleden.Isoonrealizedthat Ihadgot tomakeamove. I tried theother sideof thestackbut itwasn’tmuchbetter.SoIdecidedtogoondowntheroadandfindanotherplace.

“Ihadn’tgoneveryfarwhenIheardabelltolling.Ipeeredintothedarknessofftothesideoftheroadandsawalargestonebuilding.Atoneendtherewasasort of chapel with stained glass windows, dimly lighted. It was the onlyhabitation in the neighbourhood, standing in the midst of its own groundsapparently. I went up closer and saw that there were men dressed in robessolemnly gathering in the little chapel. It was evidently a monastery. I knew,becausetherehadbeenonenearourhomefarm.Thesemonkswouldbegoingintovespers,theeveningservice.

“Well,Iwasneverwhatyouwouldcallareligiousdog.Ontheotherhand,noonecouldcallmebigotedorintolerant.AmongmyfriendsupontheScotchfarmIhadhadEpiscopalian,Presbyterian,MethodistandBaptistdogs.Oneofmy closest chumshad been anAiredalewhobelonged to a Jewish rabbi.Thelittlechapel lookedwarmandinvitingcomparedto thecoldnightoutside.Thedoorswouldsoonclose.Ijoinedtheprocessionandwentintovespers.

“Well, it seemed that some of themonkswere not as broad-minded aboutmattersofreligionasImyself.Theyobjectedtomycomingin.IsupposetheythoughtIwasn’taRomanCatholicdogandhadn’tanybusinessthere.Anyway,Ihadnosoonerfoundanemptypew,freefromdraughtsandcurledmyselfuptolisten to theservice incomfort, thanIwasgrabbedbyoneof the laybrothers,carriedtothedoorandputout.

“I was greatly shocked by this. I had always understood that monasterieswerefamousfor theirhospitality.Whatsortwasthis,whenagentlemanof theroad, takingshelter fromawindynightwithin theirwalls,wasgrabbedby thescruffoftheneckandshovedoutintothecold?WhileIwaswonderingwhatIwoulddonext theorgan startedplayingand themonksbegan singingpsalms.Suchvoices,mygracious!Icoulddobettermyself.Iwouldshowthem.Ileantagainst thechapeldoorand joined in thechorus.Ofcourse Icouldn’t sing thewords.ButIhadnodifficultyinfollowingthegenerallinesofthetunequiteasmusicallyastheyweredoing.

“Ijoinedinthechorus”“Tomysurprise,myjoiningthechoirseemedtostoptheorgan.NextIheard

whisperingsbehindthecloseddoorofthechapel.“‘Perhapsit istheDevil,BrotherFrancis,’Iheardonemonksay,‘tryingto

disturbusatourdevotions.Donotopenthedooronanyaccount.’“Thiswasn’tveryflattering,norintheleasthelpful.ButpresentlytheAbbot,

thatistheheadofthemonks,camedowntothedoorofthechapeltoseewhatall the disturbance was about. The Abbot was a very fine man. He became,afterwards, a great friend of mine. Devil or no devil, the Abbot believed infacingtheproblemsoflife.Heorderedthedoortobeopenedatonce.Hesmiledwhenhesawmesittingonthestepoutside.

“‘Comein,stranger,’saidhe,‘andtakeshelterfromthewindandcold.’“I didn’t wait for any second invitation but trotted in at once and made

myself comfortable in one of the pews. Several of themonks looked kind ofshockedandscandalized.Butasitwastheirownabbotwhohadletmeintherewasn’tanythingtheycoulddoaboutit.Thentheywentonwiththeservice.

“Afteritwasovertheyallstartedtotroopoutagain.Theywereverysolemn

and serious. I joined the procession, sticking close to the Abbot, who was, Irealized,agoodpersontokeepinwith.Fromthedoorofthechapel,twobytwo,withoureyesontheground,wetrapsedalongastone-pavedcloisterandenteredanotherdoor.Beyondthis, Iwasdelighted todiscover, lay thedining-room,orrefectory,asitisalwayscalledinmonasteries.Goodcookingsmellsgreetedournostrils.WiththecoldnippywindIalreadyhadagreatappetiteagain.

“Well, I followed themonastic life for severalmonths. Itwasn’t half bad.Themonkswere a very nice lot ofmenwhenyougot to know them.And assoonas Iwas accepted into theorder Iwas allowed togoeverywhere anddoprettymuchasIpleased.Inthatrespectitwasoneofthefreest,mostagreeablechaptersinmywholecareer.TheoldAbbotwaslotsoffun.Naturallyofaverycheerfuldisposition,heoftenhad, I could see,veryhardworkkeepingup thesolemn dignity which seemed to be expected of his position as head of themonastery. Iamsure thathefound inhis friendshipformeachance to letoffsteamandbenatural.Manywasthejollyrunwehadtogether,downinahollowofthemonasterymeadowswherenoonecouldseeus,inpursuitofanotterorahare.

“Manywasthejollyrunwehadtogether”“Of course itwas quiet, there’s no denying that. Prayers, digging in the

garden,farmandhousework,wereallwedid;anddayfolloweddayinpeacefulsameness.ButformypartImanagedtogetagooddealoffunoutofit.InreturnformyboardandlodgingIkeptthemonasteryandthefarm-buildingsfreefromrats.Thatgavemeplentytodo.AnditwasaboutthistimethatIfirstbecameacollector.TheAbbotwasageologistandheusedtocollectstonesandpiecesofrock.Ihelpedhimindiggingforthem.

“Yes,IhadaverypeacefullifewhileIwasaMonkDog.Iwouldprobablyhavestayedwithitmuchlongerifithadnotbeenformydesiretoseemoreoftheworld.Thisfinallyledmetobidfarewelltothemonasteryanditsniceabbotandsetforthoncemoreuponmywanderings.”

8.THESHEPHERDINDISTRESS

“The Winter was now in full swing and it was not a good season to behomeless.ForaweekortwoIspentaboutthehardesttimethatIhaveevergonethrough. Icy blizzards were blowing most of the time.When I wasn’t nearlyfrozenIwasalmoststarvedtodeath.Icouldwellunderstandthen,Iassureyou,whyitwasthatwedogs,asarace,hadremaineddependentuponMan.Manyatime I was tempted to get adopted by anymaster ormistress, nomatter howstupidorsevere,solongasIgotonesquaremealadayandawarmbedinreturnformybondage.

“OnedaywhenIwasdowntoaverylowlevelofmiseryandwant,trudgingalong the road wondering where my next meal was coming from, I saw ashepherd having a hard time rounding up his flock.He had a sheep dogwithhim,buttheanimalwasafoolandnogoodatthebusiness.

“Iwasawfullyweakforwantoffood,butIsawhereachanceofsomethingworthwhile.Theshepherdwas indespair.Thewindwasblowing likeacrazyhurricane, now thisway, now that.Darknesswas coming on. The sheepwerescattered in all directions, scared by the gale. The man’s dog was more anuisancethanahelp.Hetriedhardenough;buthejustdidn’tknowthebusinessofsheep-herding,andthatwasall therewasabout it.Havinghelpedmyfatheronthehomefarm—hewasoneofthebestsheepdogsthateverbarked,evenifhewasonlyaterrier—Ididknowsomethingaboutit.

“Afteralittlethepoorshepherdsawthathisdogwasworsethanuselessandhewhistledandcalledhimoffthejob.Thatwasmychance.Inlesstimethanit

takestotell,IshotroundthatflockandherdeditupthroughthegatethatIsawtheshepherdwas trying topass it through.OnceIhad thesheep in thefencedenclosure the job was done and the shepherd was happy. I came up to himwaggingmytail.Hefellonmyneckandalmostwept.IfthatflockhadbeenlostinthenightstormIsupposehewouldhavegotintoserioustrouble.

“ThatwashowIstartedtwofriendshipswhichlastedalongwhile—onewiththeshepherd,theotherwithhisdog.Iwenthomewiththetwoofthemthatnightand was rewarded with a good hearty meal of stew and a warm bed. Whilesupperwas being prepared I heard the shepherd telling hiswife how,when itlookedasthoughtheflockwouldbesurelylost,Ihadappearedonthesceneandsavedtheday.

“TellinghiswifethatIhadsavedtheday”“Butthecuriousthingaboutthisincidentwasthattheshepherd,bynomeans

aneducatedperson,never tried to takeadvantageofme, restrictmy libertyorcapture me as his property. I suppose, being a sheep-herder himself, herecognizedinmeanexpertinhisowntradewhowasentitledtorespect.Inotherwords, Ihad, forperhaps the first time inDogHistory,hiredmyselfoutasan

independentspecialistandcouldleaveorstaywiththejobasIpleased.“Poorthoughhewas,themangavemesplendidmeals,ineverywayasgood

ashisown.Itookhisdoginhand—hewasacollie,adecentfellowevenifhewasabitstupid—andtaughthimoverseveralweekshowsheep-herdingshouldbedoneundervaryingconditionsofweather.

“Youknow,thatgameisnotquiteaseasyasitlookstothemanwhopassesby.Sheep are a herd animal—verymuch a herd animal. If theweather is finetheybehaveoneway;ifitisroughtheybehaveanother;ifitishottheydothis;if it rains theydothatandsoforth.Nowifyou’reasheepdog—agoodsheepdog—you’vegottoknowthesethingsandactaccordingly.

“Wellanyway,Iputtheshepherd’sdogthrougharegularcourse.Ienjoyeditmyself—as one always doeswhen teaching the other fellow. By the end of afortnightpoorRaggles,ashewascalled,wasareallygoodsheepdogandcouldbetrustedtotakecareofaflockevenifablizzardsprangupattwilight,whichisperhapsthehardestthingthatasheepdogisevercalledupontodo.”

9.CITYLIFE

“Butmyyearningtoseetheworldledmetodropthattoo,justasithadthepeace of the monastic life. And the day came when I said goodbye to theshepherdandhisdogandsetoutoncemore.Ithadbeenkindof lonelyonthesheepfarmandIthoughtIwouldliketotrycitylifeforawhile.Ijourneyedontill Icametoabig town.Yousee,beingstillpretty inexperienced, I thought itwouldbequiteasimplematterforadogtogotoacityandtakeuphisresidencetherelikeaperson.ButIdiscovereditwasn’t.

“Firstly,findingaplacetolivewashard.Isolvedthatproblemeventuallybytakingupmyquartersinanoldpacking-casewhichIfoundinanemptylot.Itwas one of those places where people dump rubbish. The packing-case, as akennel, leftagooddeal tobedesired,but itmighthavebeenworse.Thewindandtherainblewinthroughtheholesof it.But itwasmuchbetterafterIhadstuffeditandlineditwithsomestrawandragswhichIfoundnearbyamongtherubbish.

“Thepacking-caseasakennelleftagooddealtobedesired”

“Another problemwas the food. This was always sort of hard. But I hadsupposeditwouldbeeasierinacitywheresomanyhadtobefedandsuchalotof foodwasonsale.But,on thecontrary, Inevermetwithsuchextraordinarydifficultyingettingenoughtoeat.

“Howevertheworstthingofallwasthedog-catchers.Incities,Idiscovered,homeless dogs are not allowed. By homeless theymean ownerless.An officecalledTheDepartmentofPublicHealthisresponsibleforthis.Itisnotsupposedtobehealthyforatowntohaveownerlessdogsknockingarounditsstreets.

“OfalltheinhospitableunfriendlyinstitutionsthatofTownDog-catchersisIthinktheworst.Theideaisthis:amanwithawagongoesroundthestreets.Andanydogshefindswhohaven’tcollarson,orwhoappeartobewithoutmasters,or lost, get grabbedby thedog-catcher andput intohiswagon.Then they aretakentoaplaceandkept there tosee ifanyonewishes toclaimthemoradoptthem.Afteracertainnumberofdays,ifnoonehascomeforwardtogivethemahome,theyaredestroyed.

“Dear me, what a time I had keeping out of the clutches of those dog-catchers! I seemed to be always getting chased. Life justwasn’tworth living.AlthoughImanagedtogetawayIfinallydecidedthatatownwasnoplaceformeandthatIdidn’tcareforcitylifeatall.

“And then just as I was preparing to leave one evening I did get caught.Goodness,howscaredIwas!AsthewretchedoldwagonrumbledalongoverthecobbledstreetsIcoweredinside, thinkingthat theendofmycareerhadsurelycome.At the home orwhatever itwas calledwherewewere taken,weweretreatedquitekindly,asamatteroffact—fedwellandgivendecentbeds.Well,there I waited in the greatest anxiety wondering whether I was going to getadoptedornot.

“Onthethirdday,whichIbelievewasthelastdayofgraceallowed,anoldlady called at thehome. It seemed itwas a habit of hers, calling to see if shecouldrescueanystraydogsfromdestruction.Herkeenoldeyespickedmeoutrightaway.

“Anoldladycalled”“‘Oh,’saidshe,‘helooksanicedog,thatAberdeenoverthere.IthinkIcan

findahomeforhim.’“Thensheasked theman incharge tokeepme till thenextday,whenshe

hopedtobeabletobringsomeonealongwhowouldadoptme.“This shedid.Hewas a funny sort ofman, harmless enough.He tookme

awaywithapieceofstring tiedaroundmyneck.AndIassureyouIwasgladenoughtogowithhim.

“AfterIgot tohishomeIdecidedthathewasn’tveryanxioustohaveme,really,afterall.Ifeltthatmostlikelyhehadonlytakenmetoobligetheoldlady.Hewas one of those fussy bachelors, worse than any oldmaid—had to haveeverythinginhishouseinapple-pieorderandnearlyhadafitifIgotontothechairsorlefthairsonthehearth-rug.

“AfterstayingwithhimaweekImadeupmymindthathewouldprobablybegreatly relieved if I ran away and freedhimofmy company.Which I did,choosing the night-time formy departure so that I could get out of the townwithoutrunningintothosewretcheddog-catchersagain.”

10.THEHERMITDOG

“This time I determined to remove myself from the haunts of Mancompletely and entirely. I must confess I felt considerably disappointed inHumankind—disappointedandagooddealannoyed.ItseemedtomethatMantookfarmorethanhisshareofthegoodthingsofthisworldandthathebossedtherestofcreationmuchmorethanhehadanybusinessto.SoIwasnowgoingtoliveindependentlyofhim.Ithinkpartoftheideawasprovingtomyself,aswellastoMankind,thatadogcouldbereallyself-supporting.

“To find a pieceof country thatwaswild enough formypurposewasnoteasy. Imade inquiries of dogswhom Imet along the roads. They toldme ofcertainbigforestsandheathswheretheyreckonedthatadogcouldlive,hiddenaway in peace, if hewanted to.These districtswere all quite a distanceoff. Ichoseonethatsoundedthebestandstartedouttogetthere.

“Ittookmethreedaysofsteadytravel.Onthewaythecountrysidegrewlessandlesspeopled;andwhenatlastIcametothepartIwasmakingforitcertainlywas lonesomeanddesolateenoughforanything.Someof itwasmountainous.Fortherest,wideexpansesofforestandbramblyrollingheathshelteredonlythetimidnativecreaturesofthewild.Onecouldn’tfindabetterplaceforadogtoleadahermit’slife.

“IbeganbymakingathoroughexplorationofthewholesectiontillIknew

everydellandthicketinit.ThenIfoundafineoldhollowtree,likeabear’sden,whichmadethesnuggesthomeyoueversaw.Nowindsorstormscouldreachmethere,anditwasasdryasanyhouseorkennel.Itwassituatedinoneoftheremotestandthickestpartsoftheforestwherenostraytravellerwouldbelikelytofindme—evensupposingthatanystraytravellerseverpassedthatway.QuiteneartherewasasplendidlittlemountainbrookwhereIcouldalwaysgetadrink.Rabbits seemed plentiful, partridges andwoodcock too; and therewere a fewsquirrels and small game. Even in the winter season the woods were full ofwonderfulsmellsandlookedveryattractive.

“Ifoundafineoldhollowtree”“‘So,’IsaidtomyselfthefirsteveningwhenIbroughthomearabbittomy

lairandpreparedtoturninforthenight—‘so!WhatdoIcarenowforManandhissillycivilization?HereIwillsettledown,awilddog,independentandself-reliant,livingonthewildernessasdidmyforefathersbeforeme.Thisisthelife!LetMangohang!’”

“Well, I stuck to my experiment long enough to prove it could be done.Entirelyself-supportingandindependent,Ilivedinthewoodsthroughtherestof

thewinter.HardshipsIhadinplenty;butIdidit.Ofcoursemydietwasalmostalways raw meat, occasionally fish when I managed to catch the big troutdrowsingintherockypoolsofthemountainbrook.Butthatwasn’toften.Theywereclevercustomersandwereseldomofftheirguard.ButIdidgetoneortwoaweek—after I had secretlywatched how the ottersmanaged it, lying on thebanks among the bracken, motionless for hours, and then, when the chancecame,plungingrightintotheicywaterslikeafishmyselfandbattlingwiththemin their own element. I learned a lot of hunting dodges from the otters—andfromtheweaselstoo.

“Battlingwiththemintheirownelement”“Inmanywaysitwasindeedagreatlife.ButsuddenlyafterawhileIfoundI

wasn’t really contented. True I had all I wanted, liberty and independenceincluded.But,therewasnodenyingit,Iwantedsomethingelsebesides.Ifoundmyselfwanderingofftothefewlonelylittlefarmswhosepasturesborderedtheheathlandsbeyond theedgeof the forest. Ididn’tknowwhyIdid thisat first.ButsoonIrealizedthatIwantedtoseeandtalkwithotherdogs.OnefarmdogIpersuadedtoleavehishomeandcomeandlivewithme.Togetherwehadavery

good timeandhe enjoyed it no endwhen I showedhimhow the independentwild life couldbe livedand taughthima lotof thehunting lore Ihad learnedfrom theotters and foxes.And then too,huntingwith apartnerwasof coursemucheasierthanhuntingalone.

“Butafterafewweekswebothgotsortofmopy.Itperplexedusagooddealtillfinallywetalkeditovertogetherandcametotheconclusionthatperhapswewanted to be amongpeople again.At firstwewouldneither of us accept thatideaatall.Still,wehad toadmit it in theend.Humancompanycouldgiveussomethingwecouldn’tgethere.Webothstartedrememberingwhatgoodtimeswehadhadwiththisfarmer,orthatshepherd,orthosechildren,goingforwalks,playinggames,rattingtogetherandsoforth.Oneeveningmyfriendsaidtome—

“‘Youknow,Quetch, the trouble iswecan livealone thesameas thewildanimals.But I don’t believewewant to—not for long anyway.Our ancestorshavelivedforsomanygenerationsaspartoftheHumanHouseholdthatnowwemissthethingsthatMankind’scompanyhasprovideduswith.TherewasasmallboybackonthatfarmIleft—asfunnyalittletow-hairedscrubaseveryoulaideyeson.IneverthoughtI’dmisshim,never.HeusedtotakemewithhimwhenhewenttolookformushroomsintheFall—orforbirds’nestsorwater-liliesinthe Spring. And now—it’s funny—I findmyself longing to see him again….Wouldyoumindverymuch,Quetch,ifIleftyou,andwentback?’

“Well,whatcould I answer?Whenheaskedme thatquestion I realizedatoncethattheendoftheexperimenthadcomeformeaswellasforhim.Lifeinthewildalone,afterIhadshareditwithhim,wouldhavebeenquiteunbearableforme.

“‘Allright,’Isaid.‘MaybeI’mmoreindependentlyinclinedthanmostdogs.Butthereisagreatdealinwhatyousay.NeverthelessifIgobacktoManandhiscivilizationIwillonlydoitoncertainconditions.Imustbeallowedtobemyownboss.Iwillnotbechainedupandmadetokeepawholelotofrules.’

“‘Inthatcase,whydon’tyougoandtrytogetintotheDoctor’sclub?’saidhe.

“'Whydon'tyoutrytogetintotheDoctor'sclub?'”“‘Doctor?—Club?’Iasked.‘Idon’tfollowyou.Whatdoctor?—Whatclub?’“‘Well,’saidmyfriend,‘Idon’tjustknowwherehelivesbutalmostanydog

youmeet seems to have heard of him.Dolittle is his name—lives somewheredownintheWestCountry,asfarasIcanmakeout.Mustbeaveryremarkableperson, from all reports. Has a club for dogs which is run by the dogsthemselves.Certainrulesofcourse,butonlythosethatthemembersrealizearenecessaryandlaydown.Whydon’tyoutryandfindhim?’

“SothatwashowIfirstheardofDoctorDolittleandhisHomeforCrossbredDogs.RightawayIrealizeditwasthekindofplaceIhadbeenlookingforallmy lifeup to this—wheredogswereallowed tobe themselves, andyetwheretheycouldenjoyhumancompany,onaproperfooting,aswell.

“WhenmyfriendsetoutIwentwithhim.Ihadnoregretsoverleavingmywoodland home, in spite of its being such a wonderful spot. At his farm weparted and Iwent on.As yet of course the neighbourhoodwas verywild andlonely;andtherewerenotmanydogstoaskdirectionsfrom.ButsoonIcametovillages and towns. All the dogs I questioned seemed to have heard of John

Dolittleallright,butnoneofthemcouldgivemeverydefiniteinstructionsastohow to reachhis home.Some said hemight be abroadbecause he travelled agreatdeal.

IavoidedthelargertownsasIwasstillafraidofthedog-catchers.MostoftheinformationgivenmespokeoftheDoctoraslivingintheWestCountry;andIkepttravellinginthatdirectionallthetime.

“InmywanderingsIeventuallycametoatownwhichwasneitherverylargenorvery small. In theMarketSquare I sawaPunch-and-Judy showgoingon.This form of entertainment had always amusedme and I stopped towatch it.Presently another dog came up to me from behind and called me by name.Turning,IwasdelightedtofindmyoldfriendToby.Hehadbeenwatchingtheperformancewithaprofessionalinterest.

“IsawaPunch-and-Judyshowgoingon”“WegotchattingandIaskedhimifhehadeverheardofthisJohnDolittle.

YoucanimaginehowgladIwastolearnthatnotonlywasTobylivingwiththegreatmanhimselfbut that this townwhichIhadcometowasnoneother thanPuddleby-on-the-Marsh,where theDoctor had his home. Toby volunteered to

takemeroundtheretoseeifhecouldgetmeintothecelebratedclub.“And so there came an end tomywanderings. I had been a tramp dog, a

performing dog, a gipsy dog, amonk dog, a professional sheep herder and ahermitwilddog.Notaveryexcitingcareerperhaps,butatleastithadplentyofvariety in it. I canassureyou Iwasveryglad to settledown in thesepleasantsurroundings”(Quetchwavedanexpressivepawtowardsthewidedining-roomandthegymnasiumthat laybeyondthedoubledoors)“whicharecertainlymyideaofacomfortableindependentlifeIhopetheClubcontinuestoflourishformanyyearsandIthankyoufortheattentionwithwhichyouhavelistenedtomystory.”

11.THETOP-KNOTTERRIERS

ProfessorQuetchwasgivenquiteasmuchapplauseasanystory-tellerwhohadgonebeforehim.WhenithadsubsidedJip,asPresidentoftheClub,gotuptothankhimformallyonbehalfoftheaudience.

Thisover,JipwentontosaythatsincenostoryhadyetbeenslatedtofollowQuetch’s,hewouldliketoknowifanymembershadsuggestionstomakeaboutfillingouttheremainderoftheevening’sentertainment.

Thenonedoggotup(hewasacrossbetweenaSt.Bernardandamastiff)andsaidthathethoughtastoryabout theDoctorwouldbeagoodidea.Thesestories that they had heard were very good of their kind, but he felt that thememberswouldliketohearoneaboutJohnDolittlehimself.

Jipagreedthat thiswasagoodidea.Thenhestartedtocountoff thedogs,besideshimself,whohadlivedaconsiderabletimewiththeDoctor.TherewasSwizzletheclowndog;TobythePunch-and-Judydog;Klingthedetectivedog;BlackietheretrieverandGrabthebulldog.EachoftheseinturnwasaskedifhecouldthinkofanyincidentinhislifewiththeDoctorwhichwouldmakeagoodstory.

Butnoneofthemseemedtobeabletorememberonthespurofthemomentanythingthatcouldbeconsideredcompleteenough.ThentheSeaDog(whohadalreadytoldusathrillingyarnoutofhisownadventuresonthedeep)gotupandsaid:

“I thinkthatJiphimself,whohasafterallknownJohnDolittle longerthananyofus,oughttotellusastoryabouttheDoctor.”

Atthisthereweremany“Hear,hears!”fromthemembers.AndJipfeltthathehadtogetupandmakesomereply.

“Allright,”saidhe,“inthatcaseI thinkI’ll tellyouthestoryofhowJohnDolittleinventedtheTop-knotTerrier.YouknowthenofcoursethattheDoctorhasnevercaredverymuchwhetheradogwaswhatisknownasathoroughbred.Whetheradoghadanicepersonality,orwasintelligent,wasfarmoreimportanttohim.Well,someyearsagotherewasacertainrichandhigh-bornlady,knownas theDowagerCountess ofBattlebridge,who realized that theDoctorwas agreat man. This was curious; because people as a class usually think himsomethingofacrank.That,asmanyofyouknow,hasalwayshadtheeffectofmakinghimkeepverymuchtohimselfandtheanimalworld.ButtheDowagerCountessofBattlebridgewasanexception—anexceptionalwomanallround,infact.Shewasextremelyinterestedin,andfondof,animalsandshehadagreatadmiration for the Doctor’s knowledge of animal medicine. She did not, anymorethantherestoftheworld,believethathecouldtalkanimallanguages.Butshesawthathecertainlyhadagreatgiftforcommunicatingideastothemandgettingthemtounderstandwhathewanted.Shehadawholelotofdogsofherownandwasagreatauthorityonbreeds,attendingalltheshows,whereshewasveryoftenoneofthejudges.

“WheneveranyofheranimalsweresickshealwaysgottheDoctortoattendto them, maintaining that he was the only veterinary surgeon in the countryworthyof the title.Amongherdogsshehadonevery jolly littlepoodlecalledJuanita—frightfullythoroughbred,prize-winnerandallthat.

“OnedayJuanitawasmissing.TheDowagerCountesswas indespair.Sheput advertisements in all the papers, hired detectives to hunt for the dog, andeverything. All to no purpose. Juanita the prize poodle had disappeared ascompletelyasthoughtheearthhadopenedandswallowedherup.

“TheDowagerCountesswasindespair”“OneeveningwhenIandtheDoctorwereinthestudyweheardatappingat

thewindow.Iknewthattap.Ihadhearditbefore.ItwasCheapsidetheCockneysparrowknockingontheglasswithhisbill.

“ItwasCheapsideknockingontheglasswithhisbill”“‘Well,Doctor,’saysheassoonashewasletin,‘wheredoyouthinkJuanita

theprizepoodleishiding?Inyourstable.’“‘Inmystable!’criedtheDoctor.‘Whataplacetochoosewhenshehadthe

mostluxurioushomeinthecountrytolivein!’“‘Yes, but listen,Doctor,’ saysCheapside, coming closer and lowering his

voice. ‘That isn’tall.She’sgotpuppies—fiveof ‘em, thequeerest little thingsyoueversaw.They’vegottop-knotsontheirheadslikeFijiIslanders.Looklikeacrossbetweenaweaselandapin-cushion.Ireckonshe’sashamedof‘em,isJuanita—beingthey’resoqueer-looking—andthat’swhyshehaskeptinhiding.’

“‘Oh,well,’ said theDoctor, ‘let’s go down and take a look at them rightaway.’

“Thereuponweallproceededtothestablewithalantern.Andunderanoldmanger,amongsomestrawandautumnleaves,wefoundJuanitaandherfamily.I am bound to say that Cheapside’s description had not been in the leastexaggerated.Theywerequeer.AtfirstIcouldscarcelybelievetheyweredogsatall.ItwasonlybythesmellofthemthatIwassure.

“‘Mygoodness,Juanita,’saidtheDoctor,‘whydidn’tyouletmeknowyouwerehereallthetime?’

“‘Well,’saidshe,‘foronethingIdidn’twanttoputyouinanembarrassingpositionwithregardtotheCountess.AndforanotherI—er—I—er-‘

“She looked at the queer puppies and paused. She seemed dreadfullyawkwardandillatease.

“‘They’re hardly thoroughbred, you see,Doctor,’ she said at last. ‘I didn’tknowwhatmymistresswouldsayordoaboutthem.Frankly,Iwasscared.TheCountess,asyouknow,onlyhasdogsofthehighestpedigreeinherkennels.’

“‘Well,’saidtheDoctor,’Ithinktheyareaveryjolly-lookinglot.Thesetop-knotsarequiteunique—andverysmartinmyopinion.Aretheyintelligent?’

“‘Oh, yes, indeed,’ said Juanita brightening up and showing no end ofmotherlypride.‘They’rethecleverestlotofpuppiesIeverhad.’

“That,asyoucanimagine,gottheDoctormoreinterestedthananythingshecould have said. And finally he became tremendously keen on these queerpuppies—sokeenthathetookthemacrossfromthestabletohishouse,wheretheymadethemselvesagreatnuisancetoDab-Dabthehousekeeper.Theyranallovertheplaceandyoustumbledonthemeverywhereyouwent.

“Neverthelesstherewasnodenyingthat theywere,astheDoctorhadsaid,distinctly unusual. Clever wasn’t the word for them: they were positivelyuncanny.Ihaveneverseenanythinglikeit.Usuallyittakesadogyearstolearnanythingabouthumanspeechandwhat itmeans—if indeedheeverdoes.Buttheselittlebeggarsseemedtocatchontoallthatwashappeningorbeingsaidinanylanguagerightaway.Dab-Dabcontinuedtostormandinsistedthattheybeputbackinthestable;buttheDoctorsaid—

“‘No,Dab-Dab.Thesepupsareanextraordinarycaseofanimalintelligence.They must stay. I want to study them.Why, they have real brains, Dab-Dab—realbrains!’

“'Why,theyhaverealbrains,Dab-Dab!'”“‘They’remongrels,’shesnapped—‘homelymongrelsatthat.’“‘Idon’tcare,’saidtheDoctor.‘Theyrepresentadistinctadvanceinanimal

intelligence.’“Juanita,whohaduptothisbeenscaredandashamedabouthowtheywould

be received, now began to put on no end of airs as the mother of the mostintelligent puppies on record. The Doctor gave them all sorts of tests todemonstratehowclevertheywere.Idobelievethathehadhopesofsomedaygettingthemtotakeupmathematicsandscience—ifnot torunforParliament.Hewasquiteexcitedandworkedupoverit.

“NotagreatwhileafterJuanita’spresenceinthestablehadbeenannouncedbyCheapside theDoctor felt thatheought tonotify theDowagerCountessofBattlebridge; for she was still very disturbed over her prize poodle’sdisappearance.ThegoodladywasoverjoyedatthenewsandimmediatelyaskedthatJuanitaberestoredtoherhome.Butthepoorpuppies,sincetheywerenotthoroughbred,shewasnot in the least interested in.Then theDoctor took twowholehourstryingtoexplaintoherthatshewaswrong.

“‘Don’tyousee,’ saidhe, ‘howmuchmore important it is that Juanitahasbrought an unusually intelligent kind of a dog into the world than that herchildrenshouldcarryonsomesettypeofbreed?’

“Well,theDoctor,aftertalkingveryenthusiasticallyforquiteawhileaboutthe brilliant intellects of these puppies got theCountess herself interested too.She asked to see them.And theDoctor took her over to the house at once toshowthemtoher.

“Anditdidn’ttakethosepupslongtowintheCountess’sheart.Butaftershehadravedoverthemawhilesheseemedabitashamedofherself.

“‘Oh, but just look at them, Doctor!’ she cried—‘with these delightfullyabsurd,woollymopeontheirheads.They’redarlings;butthey’remongrels.I’dbeashamedtohavetheminthehouse.’

“‘Yes, I know. But after all,’ said the Doctor, ‘breed in dogs is a veryartificialthing.Hardlyanyoftheraceswhicharepopularto-dayarepurenativedogs.TheBull Terrier, the Pomeranian, theBlack-and-tan: they have all beenproducedbycrossbreedinginthefirstinstance.TheonlytrueoriginalbreedsaretheEsquimaux sleigh dog, theDingo ofAustralia and one or twomore.Nowwhat Iwas going to suggest is this: you are a famous authority on dogswithsociety and the Kennel Club. It is within your power to popularize this newbreedwhich Juanita hasgiven to theworld andmake it thevogueof theday.Why,onlylastmonthSirBarnabyScrogleyproducedanewracewhichhecalledtheBob-tailedBolivianBeagle.Ithassincebecomequitefashionable.Hisbreedhasn’tthewitsofacockroach—Iknow,becauseI’vetalkedwiththem.WhereasthesepuppiesofJuanita’ssurpassanythingindogintelligenceIevermet.’

“ThissettheCountessthinking.AsamatteroffactshewasquitejealousofLady Scrogley, Sir Barnaby’s wife, who was another well-known womanauthorityondogsandfrequentlyactedasjudgeattheKennelClubshows.Theideaofproducinganewbreedwhichshouldoutshine,asthefadofthemoment,theScrogleys’BolivianBeaglesappealedtotheDowagerCountessimmensely.

“‘Humph!’shesaidatlast.‘Andwhat,Doctor,wouldyoucallthisbreed?Itdoesn’t look like anything that has ever been registered so far on theKennelClub’sbooks.’

“‘We’dcallitTheTop-knotTerrier,’saidJohnDolittle—‘asmartnameforaverysmartdog.I’msuretheywouldbepopular.’

“'We'dcallitTheTop-knotTerrier'”“‘Humph!’saidtheCountessagain.‘Perhapsyou’reright.Theycertainlyare

awfullyattractivemites….Well—er—youmustgivemealittletimetothinkitover.’

“ThenextdaytheCountesscalledontheDoctorandtoldhimthatshehaddecidedtofollowhissuggestion.Thepuppieswereallbrushedandcombedandtheirtop-knotsweretrimmed(byaFrenchbarber)intoaverysmartshape.TheywerethentakenovertotheCountess’mansionandadoptedintothehouseholdwithalldueceremonyandhonour.

“Theirtop-knotsweretrimmedintoaverysmartshape”“TheresultofthiswasexactlyastheDoctorhadpredicted.Theybecamethe

rageinaweek.TheDowagerCountesstookoneortwowithhereverywhereshewent.Andsinceshewassuchaveryimportantfigureinsportingsocietytheseunusual dogswere remarked upon, talked about andwritten up in the papers.Every one wanted to know what the breed was. He was told: The Top-knotTerrier. It was repeated everywhere. But the Countess went the Doctor onebetter.Seeing that theScrogleyshadproduceda raceofbeagles fromBolivia,she wove a wonderful story about the Top-knots coming from some remoteisland in the South Seas.And they finally became known as the “Fijian Top-knots.’Andifyouclaimedtobeinthefashion,nottohaveaFijianTop-knotjustput you outside the pale instantly. The Countess was besieged with lettersinquiringabout thebreed—where could theybeobtained?whatwere they fedon?etc.,etc.

“Shewasdelighted—becausenotonlydidhernewbreedentirelyoutshinetheScrogleys’BolivianBeagles,but itearned itspopularityby realbrainsandnaturalcharm.TheFijianTop-knotswereknowntobeabletodoanythingshort

ofbook-keepingandastronomy.Also,forthepresentanyhow,theywerenearlypriceless—becausetherewereonlyfiveofthemandallthefashionableladiesinthelandwerefallingoveroneanothertobuythem.

“TheShahofPersia,whohappenedtobevisitingLondonjustthen,simplyinsistedthathewouldn’tbehappyunlesshecouldtakeonebacktoTeheranwithhim.TheDowagerCountessrefusedoutright,sayingshedidn’tknowwhatsortoftreatmenttheywouldreceiveinPersia.ButaspecialrequestarrivedfromthePrimeMinister that thiswhimof theforeignmonarchshouldbegratified.AndoneofJuanita’schildrensailedawayintheShah’ssuite.Welearnedafterwardsthat the pup was treated very well—but got dreadfully fat eating too manysweetmeatsintheShah’sharem.

“TheDoctorwasverypleased,for,initsway,thiswasagreattriumph.“‘Thatjustshowsyou,Jip,’saidhetomeoneevening,ashewasreadinghis

newspaper in front of the fire, ‘how utterly absurd is this idea ofthoroughbredness in dogs being so much more desirable than crossbreeding.Herewehavemadearegularmongrelintothelastwordofup-to-dateness.Andallbecausewecalledintheaidofafewsocietypeople.Thewholethingisjustaquestionoffashion,Jip.Justfashion—nothingmore.’”

12.DOGS’JOBS

A fewnights after Jip had ended his story about theTop-knotTerriers theDoctor happened to be present again at one of the after-dinner story-tellingsessionsattheHomeforCrossbredDogs.And,asusual,hewasaskedtotellatalehimself.

HeroseandsaidhewassorryhecouldnotthinkofanyatthemomentbuthehadbeengreatlyinterestedinwhatQuetchhadsaidaboutthebusinessofsheep-herding.

“This,”hewenton,“isanexampleofsomethingthatdogscandobetterthananyone else. Now there are other things that dogs can do—I mean in aprofessionalway.Theirexperiences,eveniftheydidnotformverylongstories,would be, I think, well worth hearing—and instructive. Will all those dogspresentwhohaveeverworkedprofessionallypleasestandup?”

Atthat,toourconsiderablesurprise,agooddozenormoredogsroseamongthe audience and waved a paw or something to attract attention. There weresomewhohadbeenwatchdogs;onehadworked inanEsquimausleigh-team;anotherhaddonedutyasalife-guardatachildren’sswimmingbeach;one,aSt.

Bernard, saidhehadbeenemployedat the famousmonastery in theAlps andrescuedlosttravellersfrommountainsnow-storms;anothergotupandtoldushehadledablindmanthroughcitystreetsandhelpedhimearna living;a funnyoldveteranofablood-houndsaidhehadbeenemployedasatrackerbyaprisonto hunt down prisoners who ran away; two others said they had worked inHolland pulling vegetable barrows around like horses; another had been acollectorforcharity,goingthroughthecitywithatinboxonhisbackintowhichpeopleputpenniesforthecauseofthePreventionofCrueltytoAnimals;severalsportingdogshadspentyearsatthevariousjobsdogsdoinretrieving,trackingandpointingwiththeguns.Andthereweremanymore.

“Well,nowyousee,”saidtheDoctor,“wehavehereagreatmanymemberswho have worked for their living. If some of them would tell us of theirexperiencesandalittleaboutthejobwhichtheywereemployedin,I’msureitwouldbemostinteresting.”

Thiswaseventuallydone.Eachdoggaveusashorttalkontheprofessionhehad followed, sometimes about the job itself and sometimes part of hisexperienceswhileemployedinit.TheseI tookdownandmadeintoaseparatechapter called “Dogs’ Jobs” in my book entitled, Tales of the Home forCrossbredDogs.

“TheseItookdown”

PARTTWO

I.INSECTLANGUAGES

Therewere tohavebeen twovolumes to thatbook,Talesof theHome forCrossbredDogs.Butitwasaroundthistime—whenIwasfinishingthefirstofthem—thatIwasaskedbytheDoctortoassisthiminanotherdepartment.Thiskeptmewritingsobusilythateverythingelsewaslaidasideforthetimebeing.

Itwas the study of Insect Languages. For years and years theDoctor hadbeen patiently working on it. He had, as I have told you, butterfly-breedinghouses where the caterpillars of moths and butterflies were hatched out andliberatedinaspecialenclosedgarden,aboutthesizeofaroom,fullofflowersandeverythingneededforbutterflyhappiness.

“Themothsandbutterflieswereliberatedinanenclosedgarden”

Then hornets, wasps, bees and ants—we had other special apparatus andhomesforthemtoo.Everythingwasdesignedwithoneforemostideainview:tokeeptheinsectshappyandinnormalconditionswhiletheywerebeingstudied.

And thewater-borncreatures, like thedragonflies, thestoneflies,etc., forthemhehadhundredsofsmallaquariumtankswithplantsandgrassesgrowingin them. Beetles, the same way. In fact there was practically no branch ordepartment of Insect Life which the Doctor had not at one time or anotherstudiedwithaviewtoestablishinglanguagecontactwithit.Hehadbuiltmanydelicatemachineswhichhecalled“ListeningApparatus.”

About this time tooMorse’sexperiments inelectricityand telegraphywereattracting a good deal of public attention. And John Dolittle had been veryhopefulthatthesescienceswouldaidhiminsomeway.BumpoandIhadbuilthimashedespeciallyforthisandhehadentirelyfilleditwithelectricalbatteriesandthingswhichhefeltconfidentwouldeventuallysolvesomeofhisproblemsinconnexionwithinsectlanguages.

Butinspiteofatremendousamountofpatientlabour,trialandexperiment,hehadadmittedtomeonlyaweekorsoagothathefelthehadaccomplishednothing.Soyoucanimaginemysurprisewhen, justasIwasfinishingthelastchapter to the first volume for the mongrels’ club, he came rushing into theDogs’DiningRoom,grabbedmebythearmandbreathlesslyaskedmetocomewithhim.Togetherweranacross to the insecthouses.There,over thevariouslisteningapparatus,heattempted toexplain tomehowhehadat lastachievedresults—resultswhich,hewasconfidentlysure,wouldleadtohisdreambeingrealized.

Itwasallhighlyscientificandfrightfullycomplicated;andIamafraidthatIdid not understand a great deal of it. It seemedmostly about “vibrations persecond,” “sound waves” and the like. As usual with him on such occasions,everythingelsewaslaidasideandforgotteninhisenthusiasm.

“Stubbins,”saidhe,“Ishallneedyourhelpforthesecretarialworkandthenote-keeping—there’s a tremendous lot of recording to be done. I amoverwhelmedbymyresults. It all cameatonce—sosuddenly. Inoneswoop Iestablished what I believe are the beginnings of language-contact with fivedifferentkindsofinsects:awasp,acaterpillar—orratheramaggot—ahouse-fly,a moth and a water-beetle. If I am right in my surmises this is the greatestmomentinmywholecareer.Letusgotowork.”

And then for many days—and most of the nights too—we laboured.Goodness,howweworked!Dab-Dabwasindespair.Wewerelateforallmeals—forsomeofthemwedidn’tturnupatall.AlargepartofthetimeIwasasleep,orhalfasleep,becausetheDoctornotonlyworkedregularlyfarintothenight,buthewasupearlyinthemorningsaswell.Itremindedmeofthetimewhenhehad met his first success in shellfish languages on the ship going toSpidermonkeyIsland.

He brought insects into the house in pails, in biscuit-tins, in tea-cups, ineverything.Youneversawsuchamess.Hisbedroom,thekitchen, theparlour,the study—everywhere you went you found pots of maggots, glasses full ofwasps,bowlsfullofwater-beetles.Notcontentwiththat,hekeptgoingoutandgetting more. We would walk miles and miles across country, armed withcollecting-boxes, insearchofsomespecially largebeetleorsomenewkindofwaspwhichhefeltsurewouldbebetterforexperimentingpurposesthananyhehadusedsofar.

“Gub-Gubwascontinuallygettingstungbythewasps”Poor Gub-Gub was continually getting stung by the wasps—indeed the

houseseemedfullofthem.AsforDab-Dab,herindignationeverytimeanewlotofmaggotswasbroughtinwasquiteindescribable.Shethrewseverallotsoutofthe windowwhen the Doctor wasn’t looking; but she was always brought toaccountforit.BecauseJohnDolittle,nomatterhowmanymessylittlecanshehadplacedaroundthehouse,knewimmediatelyifasingleoneweremissing.

2.FOREIGNINSECTS

For my part, I cannot truthfully say that I ever got into real, personal,conversationalcontactwiththeInsectWorld.ButthatJohnDolittledidtherecanbe no doubt whatever. This I have proof of from things that happened. Youcannotmakeawaspstanduponitsfrontlegsandwaveitsotherfourfeetintheairunlessyouknowenoughwasplanguagetomakehimdoso.Andthat—anda

greatdealmore—IhaveseentheDoctoraccomplish.Of course it was never quite the free and easy exchange of ideas that his

talking with the larger animals had come to be. But then insects’ ideas aredifferent; and consequently their languages for conveying those ideas aredifferent.With all but thevery largest insects the “listening,” as itwas called,wasdonewiththesequitecomplicatedandverydelicateinstruments.

Alldraughtsandvibrationshadtobecarefullyshutoff.LateronBumpoandImadeasecondbuildingspeciallyforthis,withafloorsosolidthatnofootfallor shock, nomatter how heavy, could jar the apparatus. It was also equippedwith a very fine system for heating the atmosphere to exactly the righttemperature. For theDoctor had found thatmost insects are inclined to go tosleep immediately the temperature falls below what is for them the normalclimateoftheiractiveseason.Asageneralrule,thehotteritwasthemorelivelytheywereandthemoretheytalked.Butofcoursetheaircouldnotbeallowedtogetmuchwarmerthanfullsummerheat.

We called it listening for convenience. As a matter of fact, it more oftenconsistedof recordingvibrations, thepitchofabuzz, thevelocityof thewingstrokeandotherslightnoisesandmotionswhichinsectsmake.Withsomeoftheverylargestonesitwaspossibletohearthesoundsgivenoutwiththenakedear.TheclearestresultsthatJohnDolittleobtainedwerewithimportedinsects,suchas locusts and cicadas of different kinds. How he procured these foreignspecimenswas rather interesting.He asked several birds tomake special tripsabroadforhimandtobringbackthegrubsandeggsofgrasshoppers,crickets,etc.Forthisofcourseheemployedinsect-eatingbirdswhowouldknowwheretolookforthespecimensandcouldrecognizethemwhentheyfoundthem.Theninhisincubatingboxesathomehehatchedouttheeggsandgrubsintothefull-growninsects.

“Heaskedseveralbirdstomakespecialtripsabroadforhim”

Most of the information that the Doctor gathered from this new study ofinsect languageswasconcernedwith thenaturalhistoryof thevarious speciesandgenera.WiththisIfilledoversixtythicknotebooksforhim.Butwelearnedfrom certain cases, with which he was able to get into closer touch, manyinteresting personal stories of insect life and society. These, I think,might bemoreentertainingtothegeneralreaderthanthepurelyscientificmaterialwhichwegatheredandstoredawayduringthesevenoreightmonthswespentonthiswork.We found that severalkindsofbutterflieshadconsiderable imagination;and some of the yarns we were told I strongly suspect weremade up out ofwholeclothforouramusement.Otherssoundedasthoughtheyhadtheringoftruthtothem.HoweverIwillshortlynarrateoneortwoandthenyoucanjudgeforyourselves.

Allof theDolittlehousehold,with theexceptionof theharassedDab-Dab,weregreatly interestedin thisnewdepartureof theDoctor’s.AndassoonasIhadgotanewsectionwritten intomynotebookswewereatoncebesiegedby

Chee-CheeorPolynesiaorToo-TooorGub-Gubtoreaditoutloud.Andthatishowmostof thefollowinganecdotescame tobe toldround thekitchenfire inthemannerofthegoodolddayswhentheDoctorhadamusedhisfamilyeverynightwithafiresideyarn.

3.TANGERINE

Oneofourmost interesting insectswasawasp.TheDoctorhadof courseexperimentedwith a considerable number ofwasps.Butwith this one he hadachievedbetterresultsthanwithany.Thetinycreatureseemedhighlyintelligent,wasmuchgiventotalking,solongastheroomwaskeptwarm;and,afterhehadgot used to John Dolittle, would follow him around the house like a pet catwhereverhewent.HeallowedtheDoctortohandlehimwithoutapparentlyeverdreamingofstinginghimandseemedhappiestwhenhewasallowedtositontheDoctor’scollaraboutaninchfromhisleftear.Gub-GubitwaswhochristenedhimwithanameofhisownTangerine.ThiswasbecausewhentheDoctorhadbeenmakinginquiriesofthewaspastowhatfoodshelikedbesthehadsaidacertainyellow jamwashis favourite.We tried apricot, peach, quince,Victoriaplum.ButwefinallydiscoveredthatwhathehadmeantwasamarmalademadefromTangerineoranges.

“HeseemedhappiestwhenallowedtositontheDoctor'scollar”

Hewasthenpresentedwithhisownprivatejarofmarmalade—withwhichheseemedgreatlydelighted.Butwesawalmostrightawaythatwewouldhaveto limit his allowance. Hewould eat such enormous quantities at one sitting.Then he’d fall asleep andwake up in themorning complaining of a dreadfulheadache.Oneeveningheatesomuchthathefellrightintothepotandlaythereonhisbackfastasleep,blissfullydrowninginhisfavouritemarmalade.Wehadto fish him out and give him a warm bath, because of course his wings andeverythingwereallstucktogetherwiththejam.Inthisthewhitemouseassistedus, as no one else’s handswere small enough towash awasp’s legs and facewithoutdoingdamage.

“Nooneelse'shandsweresmallenoughtowashawasp'slegs”

This passion for marmalade was Tangerine’s only vice—otherwise heseemedtohaveaverynicedisposition,notonethatcouldbecalledwaspishintheleast.Gub-Gubhavingbeenstungbywaspsbefore,wasdreadfullyscaredofhim.Butfortherestofushehadnoterrors,beyondaconstantanxietythatwemightsitonhim—sincehecrawledoverallthechairsandsofasandbedsinthehouseasthoughheownedthem.

Among the anecdotes and stories of the Insect World which Tangerinerelated to us that of “How I Won the Battle of Bunkerloo” was one of thefavourites.Andthisishowhetoldit:

“The battlefield of Bunkerloo was situated in a pleasant valley betweenrolling hills covered with vineyards and olive-groves. Many battles had beenfought in thishistoric spot.Because, forone thing, it formedanaturallygoodplace for battles; and, for another, it was at an important point where theterritoriesofthreecountriestouchedupononeanother.Inthefieldsandthebolesoftheolivetreesroundabouttherewereseveralwasps’nests—astherenaturally

wouldbeinadistrictofthatsize.Theyhadalwaysbeenthere—thoughofcoursenotthesamewasps.Yetthetraditionsandfolk-lorehadbeenhandeddownfromone generation to another. And the thing that we feared and hated most wasbattles.Dearme,howsickwewereofwar!For,markyou,eveninmymother’slifetimetherehadbeentwobattlesfoughtoutonthatsameground.

“Yes,indeed,wartouswaslikearedragtoabull.Itseemedsuchastupidwaste.Fromeitherendofourbeautifulvalleyarmieswouldcomewithcannonsand horses and everything. For hours they would shoot off evil-smellinggunpowder,blowingsomeofthetreesrightoutofthegroundbytherootsanddestroyingsimplynoendofwasps’nests—someofthemquitenewoneswhichwehadspentdaysandweeksinbuilding.Then,aftertheyhadfoughtforhours,they would go away again, leaving hundreds of deadmen and horses on thegroundwhichsmeltterriblyafterafewdays—evenworsethanthegunpowder.

“Anditneverseemedtosettleanything.Becauseinayearortwothey’dbebackagainforanotherbattleandruinthelandscapesomemore.

“Well, I had never seen any of these battlesmyself, being a youngwasp.Nevertheless Ihadheardawhole lotabout themfromolder relatives.Butoneevening,justaswewereputtingthefinishingtouchestoabrand-newnest,oneofmyunclescameinandsaid:

“‘Listen:youcanallsaveyourselvesthetroubleofanyfurtherworkonthatjob.There’sgoingtobeanotherbattle.’

“‘Howdoyouknow?’Iasked.

“'Howdoyouknow?'Iasked”“‘Because,’sayshe,‘I’veseenthemgettingready,upthereatthemouthof

thevalley,diggingin thebigcannonsonthehillside just thewaytheydid lasttime.And that samegeneral is therewhowas incharge last time too,GeneralBlohardi, as they call him. His battles are always more messy than anybodyelse’s.’

“Well,whenIheardthisIwasfiredwithagreatardourtodosomething.Ournestwhichwehadjustfinishedshouldbe,Ifelt,defended.ThenextdayIwentout to lookover the situation. I flewdown to the south endof thevalley, andthere, sure enough, were men in red coats digging in enormous cannon andmakingnoendofamess.Behindthemasfarastheeyecouldreachweretentsand tetheredhorsesandammunition-wagonsandall theotherparaphernaliaofwar.

“I went down to the other end of the valley and there was another armydoing the same thing. When they were ready the two armies would comeforwardintothemiddleofthevalleyandfightouttheirsillybattle.

“Onthefollowingday,earlyinthemorning,wewereawakenedbyagreat

blowingofbuglesandbeatingofdrums.StillhopefulthatImightdosomethingonbehalfofmyfellow-wasps—thoughIhadnoideawhatitcouldbe—Ileftthenestandstartedoutagaintoreconnoitre.

“About the centre of the valley, up on the hills to one side, there was anespeciallyhighknoll.OnthisIsawthefiguresofhorsesandmen.I flewovernearertoinvestigate.

“I foundagroupofverygrandlydressedpersonsgatheredaboutamanonhorseback who seemed to be a highly important individual. He kept lookingthrough field-glasses this way and that, up and down the valley. Messengerswerearrivinganddepartingallthetimebringinghimnewsfromeveryquarter.

“IdecidedthatthismustbethefamousGeneralBlohardihimself.NowaboutthesenamesIamnotverycertain.Theywerenameswhichwewaspsgaveandtheymaynotbetherightnamesatall.WecalledhimGeneralBlohardibecausehewasalwaysblowingsohard throughhis long redmoustache,whichpuffedout before himwhenhe spoke like thewhiskers on awalrus.The two armieswere theSmithereeniansand theBombasteronians—but thosealsomaynotbethe regular names. General Blohardi was the field marshal of theBombasteronianarmy.

“Hislongredmoustachepuffedoutlikethewhiskersonawalrus”

“Itwasclearthatthegeneralhadcomeuptothishighpointsohecouldgetagoodviewofthefight—alsonodoubtbecausehewantedtostayinasafeplacehimself.Evidently,fromthewayinwhichhekeptblowingouthismoustaches,he expected avery finebattle—oneof hismessiest.Beforehewouldbedonewith our beautiful valley itwould be just a howlingwilderness full of brokentrees,deadandwoundedmenandmaimedhorses.

“IfeltsofuriousasIwatchedhimthere,snappingouthispompousorders,Iwas ready to do anything.Yetwhat could I do? Iwas such a tiny creature.Amerewasp!

“Presently a bugle blew far down the valley. It was followed almostimmediately by the roar of cannon. All the horses moved restlessly and thegeneralandhisofficersleanedforwardintheirsaddlestoseetheshow.

“Thebattlehadbegun!“NowthewholeobjectoftheBattleofBunkerloowastogainwhatiscalled

possessionofthisvalley.Whateitherarmywoulddowiththevalleyafterthey

gotitIdon’timagineeitherofthemknew.Butthatwaswhatthebattlewasfor:towin thevalley.Tous itdidn’tmatteratallwhichsidewon it,because theywouldbothmakeanastymessingettingit.Whatwewaspswantedwastostopthebattle.

“As I noticed the horsesmove restlessly at the first roar of the cannon anideacametome.ItwouldbenousemygoingandstingingGeneralBlohardionthenose—thoughIwoulddearlyhavelovedtodoso.ButifIstunghishorseImight possibly accomplish something. The animalwas a lovely steed, cream-coloured,groomedtoperfection,high-spiritedandasnervousasawitch.

“Well—no sooner thought than done. I hopped on to the horse behind thegeneralandstungthepoorfellowintheflank.Itwasadirtytricktoplayonthehorse and I wanted to apologize to him afterwards, but he wasmuch too faraway.

“Theresultswereinstantaneousandastounding.Thehorsegaveoneboundandshotoffdownthehillwithmeand thegeneral,as fastashecouldgo.Bythistimethearmieswereontheirwaytowardsthecentreofthevalley.IhadtoclingforallIwasworthnottobeblownoffbytherushingwind.Icrawledalonghisflankandstunghiminanotherplace.Thenhewentfasterstill.

“Thehorsegaveonebound”“Whenwe reached the level in thebottomof thevalleywhere the cavalry

werealreadychargingIfearedhemightturnandjointheotherhorses.SoIstunghimathirdtime.AtthisheputonsuchspeedthatIwasblownoffandhadtoflybehind—whereIhadgreatdifficultykeepingupwithhim.Onandonandonhewent,straightacrosstheflatanduptheotherslope.

“Now, as I have said, Blohardi was the commander-in-chief of theBombasteronians.Andwhenthecavalryofthatarmysawtheirfamousgeneralinfullflightleavingthebattlefieldatgoodnessknowshowmanymilesanhouritcompletelydisheartenedanddemoralized them.Theytoo tookto theirheels.Andthatwastheendofthebattle.

“Thegeneralof theSmithereeniansgotnoendofdecorationsandhonoursfor thevictoryofBunkerloo.But,”Tangerine endedmodestly, “itwas, asyousee, really Iwhohadwon thebattle….Now I’d like a littlemoremarmalade,please.”

4.DOMESTICINSECTS

IhaveneverseenpoorDab-Dabinsuchastateoffussandannoyanceinmylifeasshewasthesedays.

“Itwasbadenough,”shesaidtomeoneeveningonthebrinkoftears,“whentheDoctor used to fill thehousewith lamebadgers and rheumatic fieldmice.But this is a thousand times worse.What’s the use of my trying to keep thehousecleanwhenhedoesnothingbutruinandsmotheritwithbugsandinsects.Thelatest isheismakingfriendswiththespiders in thecellar.Theirwebs,hesays,mustn’tbebrushedaway.ForyearsI’vebeenworkingtogettheplacefreeofcockroaches;andlastnighthewashuntingeverywherewithalantern.

“‘Surely,Dab-Dab,’sayshe,‘wehavesomecockroaches?’

“'Surely,Dab-Dab,'saidhe,'wehavesomecockroaches!'”“‘Surelywehavenot,’saysI.‘Ittookmealongtimetogetridofthem,butI

succeededatlast.Notoneroachwillyoufindinmykitchen!’“‘Dear, dear!’ he mutters. ‘I wanted one to talk to. I wonder if Matthew

Muggwouldhaveanyinhishouse!’“Andoffhegoes toget thatgood-for-nothingMatthewtosupplyhimwith

cockroaches.Ofcourseoncetheygetbackinthehousethey’llbreedandbeallovertheplaceagaininnotime;andallbecausehewantstotalktothem,mindyou.Andwhocares,I’dliketoknow,whatacockroachmighthavetosay—oraspider either? That’s the worst of the Doctor, he has no—er—sense in somethings.”

“Well,Dab-Dab,” said I consolingly, “this present studymaynot last verylong,youknow.Therearesomanyfreshbranchesofnaturalhistorycontinuallyclaiminghisattention, it’squitepossible thatbynextweekhewillbeoffonanewdepartureentirelyandyouwillbeabletogetyourhouseinorderagain.”

Dab-Dabshookherheadsadly.“Ihaven’tmuchhope,” said she. “There’sawhole lotofdifferentbugshe

hasstilltolistento,ashecallsit.Why,doyouknow,Tommy,whatIheardhimsayingtheotherday?”

Thehousekeeperdroppedhervoiceandglancedguiltilyoverhershoulder.“IheardhimaskingJipifhethoughtfleascouldtalk!”“Andwhatdid Jip say?” I asked. I confess I couldnothelp smilingat the

lookofhorroironherface.“Well,”saidshe,“happilyJipgavehimvery littleencouragement. ‘Fleas?’

he growled.—‘All they can do is bite. Don’t have anything to do with ‘em,Doctor.They’readirtylot!’”

“'Well,'saidshe,'happilyJipgavehimverylittleencouragement'”

At thismoment JohnDolittle came into the room bearing a small tray ofmaggots.

“Stubbins,”saidhe,“Iwanttodosomeexperimentalworkwiththese.Ifyouwillcomewithmewewillbeginwithlisteningmachinenumberseventeen.”

“Ugh!” grunted Dab-Dab, glancing into the tray. “What gooey, messy-lookingthings!”

WithoutfurtherdelaytheDoctorandIproceededtoourapparatus-shedsandsettowork.Wehadquitegoodresults.Itseemedthatseveralofthemaggots—particularlyonelargeandlivelywhiteone—hadsomehowgotthedriftofDab-Dab’sremarkandwereconsiderablyoffendedbyit.

“Shehasno rightwhatever to call us gooey andmessy,” said theMaggot.“Personally,tomeducksandpeoplearemuchmoregooeyandmessythannice,clean,athleticmaggots.Andwewouldbegladifyouwouldtellherso.”

“Andyouknow,Stubbins,”saidtheDoctorafterIhadwrittenthisdownintoanotebookundertheheadingofExperimentNo.179,“Iquitesympathizewith

theirfeelingsinthematter.Thisideaof—er—revulsionanddislikeonthepartofone member of the animal kingdom for another is quite baseless and stupid.Myself, I’venever felt thatway towards any living thing. Iwon’t say that I’dchooseamaggotorasnail tomakeawarmpersonal friendof.Butcertainly Iwouldnotregardthemasbeinguncleanorlessentitledtorespectthanmyself.Iwill certainly speak toDab-Dab.Nowwewant to get some information fromthese maggots about their geographical distribution. I would like to knowroughlyoverwhatpartsoftheworldtheirspeciesistobefound.Thisbigfellowseems quite lively and intelligent. Just raise the temperature another fivedegrees,willyou?—Andturnonatriflemorehumidity.Thenwewillquestionhim.”

ThesubjectofhowvariousinsectsgotscatteredoverthedifferentcountriesandcontinentswasonethatgreatlyinterestedJohnDolittleaboutthistimeandhewasengagedinwritingapamphletonit.

Well, themaggot toldus avery entertaining storyof travel and adventure,buthewasnotveryhelpfulonthequestionofgeographicaldistribution.Hehadnoton the journeyhedescribedobservedanyof those things thatwouldhavebeenofscientificvaluetous.

“It’stoobad,Stubbins,”saidtheDoctor.“Ifearwecan’tgetanyfurtheronthis experiment for the present.However, I have awater beetle in one ofmyglasstankswho,Ithink,cangivemeamuchmoredefiniterecordofhistravels—arecordwhichmayhelpustoshowprettyexactlyhowhisspeciescomestobefoundontheAmericansideoftheAtlanticandonthissidealso.Ifyouwillcometothestudywithmewewillseewhatwecando.”

5.THEWATERBEETLE

This next experiment which we made in insect language was entirelydifferentfromanywehadconductedsofarandturnedouttobeoneofthemostsuccessful. It wasmuchmore like our researchwork in shellfish speech thananythingwehaddonesofar.Byperfectingandextendingtheapparatuswehadusedforaquaticandmarinecreatureswemanagedtoestablishverygoodcontactwiththewaterbeetle.HisconversationwasquiteplainandJohnDolittleseemedto have very little difficulty in following what he was trying to say. Thissurprisedmesomewhatbecauseheneverseemedtostaystillaninstant,butwasforeverflyingandshootingaroundthisglassjarinwhichtheDoctorkepthim;now swimming freely in the clear water; now burrowing into themud at the

bottom;nowperchingonawaterplantandpolishinghisnosewithhisfrontfeet.

“Hewasforevershootingaroundthisglassjar”After theDoctor had conveyed to himwhat itwashewanted to know,he

toldusthefollowingstory:“It is about our travelling youwant to know, huh!—Well, of course being

abletoswimandwalkandfly,wedoagooddealoftouring.Butthis,Ifancy,isnotwhatyouwouldcalltravelling.Itisallshort-distancework,thoughmuchofitisveryinteresting.Wewaterbeetlesareveryfortunate,Isuppose,sincetherearehardlyanyanimalsthatcaretofightwithus.Thebigpickerelandpikeareaboutouronlydangerousenemies;theyhavetobequitehungrybeforetheywillconsiderusgoodeating.Ihaveoccasionallyhadtoleavethewaterandtaketomywingswhenbeingchasedbytheseferociousfishandhaveevenhadtoleaveonepondorstreamaltogether,when theyhadbecometoonumerous,andseekotherwaterhomes.Butthosetimeswerehappilyrare.ThefirstoccasionthatItookareallybigjourneywasonthefootofaduck.”

At thispoint theDoctorstopped theproceedings, fearing thathemightnothaveheardaright.

“A journey on the foot of a duck?” he asked. “I don’t quite understand.Wouldyoumindexplainingthat?”

“Certainly,”saidthewaterbeetle.“Itisquitesimple.Yousee,whenwearenotoutswimmingfreelyinthewaterinsearchoffoodweusuallyworkourwaydownintothemudbelow,tothedepthof,say,halfaninchtotwoinches.Thisoftenenablesustohideawayfromthefishofpreywhocannotdigforus.Wearereallyverysafe.Fewwaterbeetleseverfallvictimstotheirenemiesintheirownelement.

“ButIandafriendofminewereoncecarriedofffromournativepondandtransportedanenormousdistance—well,asItoldyou,onthefootofaduck.Ourpondwasawayoutinalonelymarshystretchofcountrywherefewpeopleevercame. Thosewho did, came in the Fall andWinter to shoot ducks. Of duckstherewehadplenty,alsoeveryotherkindofwildfowl—snipe,geese,plovers,redshanks,curlews,heronsandwhatnot.Evenof thesewewaterbeetleswerenot afraid.We only had to burrow into themud an inch or two andwewereusually safe.Butwedidn’t like theducks.Theyused tocome in from the seaanddescenduponourpondinthousandsatnight-time.Andsuchaquackingandastirringupofthewatertheymade!They’dgobbleuptheweedslikegluttonsand any small fish such as fresh water shrimps or other pond creatures theycouldlayholdof.

“One night I and a friend ofminewere swimming around peacefully andsuddenlyhesaid:

“‘Lookout!—Ducks!—Isawtheirshadowcrossingthemoon.Getdownintothemud.’

“I tookhisadvice rightaway.Togetherweburrowed into themudwithoutanyfurtherargument.Thewateroveruswasbarelyabovethreeinchesdeep.Inhundredstheducksdescended.Evenbelowthesurfaceofthemudwecouldheartheircommotionandclatter.Howtheypaddledandstirredaround!

“Thensuddenly—Bang!Bang!“Somesportsmennearbywhohadlaidinwaitforthemhadopenedfire.We

hadheardthishappenbefore;andwewerealwaysgladbecausethesportsmendrovetheducksawayandleftourpondinpeace.

“ForpartofwhathappenednextIhavetorelyonanotherwaterbeetlewhochanced to return to our pond just at themomentwhen the sportsmenopenedfire.Becauseofcourse,Iandmyfriend,beingbelowthemud,couldneitherseenorhearanything.

“Ducks were dropping in all directions, splashing into the water—somewounded, some killed outright. Itwas a terrible slaughter. Some of themwhohadbeencruisinginthewaternearwherewewereroseinstantlyonthefirstshot

andwerekilledafewfeetabovethesurfaceofthepond.Butoneitseemswassort of late in getting up and that very likely saved his life; for while thesportsmenwerereloadingtheirgunshegotaway.ThewaterasIhavetoldyouwasveryshallowjustthereandhewasactuallystandingonthemuddybottom,wading.Ashegaveajumptotakeoff,hisbroadwebbedfeetsankintothemudaninchortwo.Andhetooktotheairwithabigcakeofmudoneachfoot.Iandmyfriendwereinthosecakesofmud.

“Hetooktotheairwithacakeofmudoneachfoot”“Nowthisspeciesofduck,whichwasnotanordinaryorcommonone,was

apparentlyabout tomake itsmigration flight thatnight.The flightwas in factalready in progress and the flock had stopped at our pond to feed on itsway.Withthisalarmtheremainderoftheducksatonceheadedouttosea.

“Asforme,Ihadnoideaforsomemomentsofwhathadhappened.AndIcouldnotcommunicatewithmyfriendbecausehewasononeoftheduck’sfeetandIwasontheother.Butwiththerushingofthewindandthequickdryingofthemud,Isoonrealized thatsomethingveryunusualwas takingplace.BeforethemuddriedentirelyhardIburrowedmyway to thesurfaceof thecakeand

tookapeepoutside.“IsawthenthatIwasthousandsoffeetupintheair.Andfromtheshimmer

ofstarlightonwidewaterfar,farbelow,IgatheredthatIwasbeingcarriedoverthesea.IconfessIwasscared.ForamomentIhadanotiontoscrambleoutandtaketomyownwings.Buttheduck’senormousspeedwarnedmethatwewereprobablyalreadymanymilesfromland.EvensupposingthatIcouldtellwhichdirection togoback in—Iknewof coursenothingof thisbig-scalenavigationsuchasbirdsuse in their longnights—Iwasafraidof thepowerfulwinds thatwererushingbyus.Instrength,myownwingswerenotmadefordoingbattlewithsuchconditions.

“No,itwasclearthatwhetherIlikeditornoIhadgottostaywhereIwasfor the present. Itwas certainly a strange accident to happen to anyone, to bepickedoutofhisnativehauntsandcarriedacrosstheseatoforeignlandsonthefeetofaduck!

“My great fear nowwas that themudmight drop off inmidnight and gosplashingdownintotheseawithmeinsideit.AsaprecautionagainstthisIkeptneartotheholeIhadmadetolookoutthrough,sothatIwouldbeabletotaketomyownwingsifnecessary.ThroughthisInearlyfrozetodeath.Therushingofthecoldairwasterrific.Mygoodness,whataspeedthatduckkeptup!Idrewbackintotheinnershelterofthemudcake.IknewthatsolongasIcouldhearthatdroningdeafeningwhirloftheduck’swingsthatIwasstillattachedtomyflyingsteed.

“Prettysoonnowthemudgotsohardthatanyfurtherdrillingthroughitwasoutofthequestion.ButasIhadalreadymademyselfalittlechamberrunwaybyturning round and round in it before it hardened completely, I was quitecomfortablesofarasthatwasconcerned.IrememberasIpeepedoutofmylittlewindow—nearlyfreezingmynose—Isawthedawncomeupoverthesea.Itwasawonderfulsight;atthatgreatheightthesun’sraysreacheduslongbeforetheytouched the sea. The ocean stretched, gloomy, black and limitless, beneath uswhile the many-coloured eastern sky glowed and reflected on the myriads ofduckswhowere flyingalongbesidemine,necksoutstretched,glowinggoldenandpink—allheadedtowardstheirnewhomeland.

“Iwasgladtoseethedayarriveformorereasonsthanone.Itmadetheairwarmer.AndIcouldnowseeifanylandweretocomeinsight.

“Iwas still very anxious about getting dropped into the sea.Oncewe gotover land of any kind Iwould feel happier.The ducks started honking to oneanotherastheysawthedawn.Italmostseemedasthoughtheywereexchangingsignals as conversation of some kind, because I suddenly saw that theysomewhatchangeddirectionfollowinga leader,asingleduck,whoflewat the

headoftheV-shapedflock.”

6.THEENDOFTHEJOURNEY

“Thechangeofdirectioncausedme towonderwhy the leaderof theflockhadmadeit.Icrepttotheedgeofmyholeinthemud-cakeandcranedmyneckoutasfarasIdaredsoastogetaviewahead.

“And therea little to the leftofwhere thesunwas rising laya low lineofsomethingsittingonthesea.Themorningraysmadeitglowlikemoltensilveratoneend;andat theother,where the lighthadnotyet reached, itwasdarkandblack.

“Totheleftofwherethesunwasrisinglayalowlineofsomethingsittingonthesea”

“Land!Theflockwasheadingforit.Wouldtheyrestthere,orjusttaketheirbearingsandpasson?Mybirdatalleventsdidn’tseeninneedofarest.Aftera

wholenight’sgoingheseemedasfreshasafiddleandwaswhackingawaywiththosegreatwingsofhis,asthoughhehadonlyjuststarted.

“Itdidn’ttaketheleaderlongtomakeuphismind.Hecamesailingoverthelowlying islandswithhisgallantband.Hecircledacoupleof timeswhile theothershungback,quacking.Thenheshotoffagain,headedoncemore for theopenseawherenolandboundedthehorizon.

“‘Goodness!’Ithought.‘Howlongisthislifegoingtolast?’“Butnowtheseawasalllitupandbrightwiththerisensun.Itseemedtoput

newheart into thefliers, for theirquackingandhonkingbrokeout louder thaneverastheyswungoffinthenewdirectionaftertheirleader.Ibegantowonderhow many other small creatures like myself had thus shared the flight ofmigratingbirds. Itwascertainlyanextraordinaryexperience.Also Iwonderedhowmyfriendwasgettingoninthemudonmyduck’sotherfoot.

“Ihadanotiontocrawlforthandgoandsee.But themomentI foundmynoseoutoftheholeinmymud-cakeIrealizedthatthatwouldbemadness.Therushof theairpast theduck’sstomachwasenough toblowyoureyesoutandbesides,ifthebirdshouldfeelmecreepinguponeleganddowntheotheritwasquitelikelyhewouldscratchhisfeettogethertoknockmeoff.IdecidedIhadbetter not try to get into communicationwithmy friend tillwewere on solidground.Indeeditwasluckythattheduckkepthisfeettuckedwellbackagainsthisfeathers.Itwasthat,Iamsure,thatkeptthemudfromfallingoffandsendingmetoawaterygraveinthewideseabelow.

“Well,atlastwecametothelandtheducksweremakingfor.Wesightediton the evening of that second day. Great rocky headlands jutted out into theocean,somehigh,somelow.Thechiefoftheflockledhisfollowersoveritandthenswungtotheleft.Iimagineitwassouthward.Itlookedasthoughhenowmeant to follow the shore line down till he came to the exact region he wasseeking.

“Anyway I felt more at ease. If I got dropped now—the ducks stillmaintainedaconsiderableheight—Icouldcrawloutof themud-cakebefore itstrucktheearthandonmyownwingslandsafelyinsomesortofterritorywhereI’dstandachanceofsurviving.

“Notonlydidtheduckskeepupatagreatheight,buttheyalsokeptuptheirperfectly incredible speed. And very soon I noticed that the climate waschanging considerably. It gotwarmer andwarmer. I became quite lively.Andnow I could look out of the hole in the mud-cake and watch the changinglandscapebelowwithoutanyfearofgettingfrost-bitten.Andmygracious,howthat landscape did change! One moment we were over flat marshy fen-landwhich stretched away as though it would never end; and the next it was

mountains, rangeupon range,withhere and there aglimpseof the sea,wheregreat crested capes stretched out into the surf; and you could see the wavesbreakingagainstthefeetofhighcliffs.

“The greenery also changed—now sparse, nothing but scrub shrubberywhich barely covered the big expanse of smooth rock. Then came park landswhere I could spy deer grazing and still larger creatures.And finallywe flewoverdensedeepjungleswherethetreesweresothickandclose-packedyoufeltyouwouldalightonavelvetcarpetifyoujustsaileddownandlanded.

“At length some signal seemed to be sent back from the leader up ahead.Because all the flock stopped and started circling and eddying away in thewildestmanner.Wehad arrived over awide,wide bay on the shore line.Thecoastseemedlow;andbehinditweremanypondsandlagoons.Icouldtellfromthe dizzy singing inmy ears thatmy duckwas descending—like the rest—inwideningcirclestotheflatmarshlandstheyhadcomesofartoseek.”

7.THECOLONYOFEXILES

“You can imagine how glad I was to reach real solid ground again. Theduck’splumpbodycametorest inthemarshygroundwithoutnoiseorfuss.Itseemedalmostasthoughhehadmerelyflownfromonepondtoanother,insteadofcrossingthoseleaguesofwildoceanandthousandsofmilesofland.Hejustshookhimself,gruntedandbegantolookaboutforsomethingtoeat.

“OfcourseassoonashemovedthecakesofdryEnglishearththathadclungtohis feetall thewaycameoff in thewetmudof this foreign land.Andpoorlittlemewiththem.Oh,sucharelief!AtonceIcreptoutoftheholeandswamforthintothecooloozymudof thelagoon.Iwashungrymyself.I toobustledaroundtoraisesomefood.

“Butformetheterritorywasnew.Theduckshadbeentherebefore.Itwastheirwinterhome.Theyknewallthegrasses,alltheshellfish,allthewaterlifefit toeat.ButI! Isuddenlyfoundmyselfswimmingabout ina tropical lagoonfull of large strange enemies and small newcreatureswhichmight be foodormightbepoison.

“IswamforhoursbeforeIdaredact.Iwastakingnochancesaftercomingthroughthat long journeyofdangerandadventure.At last Imetan insect thatlooked familiar. I manoeuvred about him for a while. The water was kind ofmuddy,stirredupfromthepaddlingandwadingoftheducks.ThenIrecognizedhim.Itwasmyfriendwhohadmadethejourneyontheotherfootofthesame

duck.Wealmostfellononeanother’snecks.

“Imanoeuvredabouthimforawhile”“Tellme,’ I said, ‘wherecan I findsomething toeat.Thesewaterscontain

nothingbutstrangesightsforme.’“Helaughed.“‘Why,’ said he, ‘I’ve just had the grandestmeal ofmy life—fish eggs in

plenty.Comewithme.I’llshowyou.’“‘Butwhatabout thosedangerous-lookingfellows?’Isaid.‘Itseemstome

we’resurroundedbynothingbutenemies.’“Heglancedbackatmeandchuckledoverhisshoulderasheledtheway.“‘Don’tforgetthatwearejustasstrangetothesefellowshereastheyareto

us,’saidhe.‘Theydon’tknowwhattomakeofus—asyetanyway.They’rejustasscaredofusasyouareofthem.’

“Now pond life is, as you probably know, a very strenuous business. Allkinds of creatures—fish, beetles, worms, salamanders—every species has itsenemies.Andifyouwanttolivetoaripeoldageyou’vegottolookout.Andsoas I followedmy friend, and everything from great pike to ferocious-looking

turtles,cameupandgloweredatusthroughmurkywaters,youmaybesureIfeltfarfromcomfortable.

“Cameupandgloweredatusthroughmurkywaters”“But in a little I realized thatmany of the larger specieswho in our own

waterswouldnothavehesitatedtoattackus,herewerebynomeanssoboldandseemedalmost,asmyfriendhadsaid,tobescaredofus.

“Afterwe had had something to eat we crept out of the lagoon on to themuddybank to take a look around.Theduckswere still feeding.All kindsofotherwater fowl, too,many ofwhich I had never seen before. Some of themwere quite curious and beautiful: long-legged fellows like great cranes withscarletbillsandwings;flat-headedsmallerkindslikesnipe,builtforspeedwithtinybeaks andmincinggait; geese andwild swans of various sorts; andgreatbig-mouthedpelicans that dived for fishwith amighty splash andgobbleduptheirpreybythebushel.

“Itseemedaregularparadiseforbirds,nosignofhumanhabitationinsight.On one side lagoon after lagoon led outward to the sea; on the other, flatmarshlandlaybetweenusandthemountains.

“‘This,’Isaidtomyfriend,‘seemslikeaveryniceplacewehavecometo.’“‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I don’t think we have done so badly. I wonder if any

moreofourkindevercametotheseparts.’“‘Younevercantell,’saidI.‘Let’slookaroundandfindout.’“Sooffweswamtogetherdownthelagoontoseeifwecouldfindanyothers

ofourownkinwhohadbeenexiledontheseforeignshores.“After about an hour’s search-the lagoon was several miles long and had

manylesserlagoonsrunningoffitineverydirection—wecameupononeortwosolitaryspecimensofourownkind.Theywereverygladtoseeusandatonceasked for news of the homeland. We told them what we could. But theinformation theycouldgiveuswasmuchmore important.Theyhadbeenheresome time and had already got acclimatized. Familiar as they were with thedangersand theadvantagesof thewaters, they tolduswhatparts toavoidandwhere the best feedingwas to be found.The temperature of thewaterwas ofcourse,generallyspeaking,verymuchhigherthanthatofournativehaunts.Buttheyhaddiscovered thatbyseekingcertainveryshallowplacesatnight,whenthewindregularlyblewdownfromthemountains,coolerterritorycouldalwaysbe found.While by day special spotswhere rocky creeks ran into the lagoonaffordedsomerelieffromthetropicalheat.

“Well,withthesefewfellowbeetleswhomwediscoveredhere(itseemstheyhad probably been imported the sameway that we had)we formed a regularlittle colony. That is, it was little to begin with. But very soon we had largefamilies of young ones growing up and after a few months we felt that weformedquiteanimportantspeciesinthepondlifeofthatregion.That,Ithink,isaboutallIhavetotellyouofhowIwentabroad.”

“Oh,butlisten,”saidtheDoctor,“youhaven’ttoldusyethowyougotbackhere.”

“Thatisquitesimple,”saidthebeetle.“IcamebackbythesamemeansasIwentout:onthefeetofsomewater-fowl.OnlyonthereturnjourneyIamnotsosurewhatkindofbirditwasthatcarriedme.AssoonasIrealizedIhadbeenreturned toEngland it did not takeme long to findmyway back tomy ownparticularpond.Mycasewasof coursepeculiar. I knownow thatquite a fewsmallwatercreaturesgetcarriedabroad—sometimesinegg-formonly—inthatsameway.Butitisexceptionallyrare,Ifancy,foroneindividualtogetbacktothewaters that he started from. Iwas given quite awonderful reception. Thebeetles inmynativepond turnedout to domehonour.And I felt like a greattravellerwhohaddonesomethingwonderful.”

“Thebeetlesinmynativepondturnedouttodomehonour”

8.ALIFETIMEOFTWENTY-FOURHOURS

Attheconclusionofthewaterbeetle’sstorytheDoctor,ashehaddonewiththe other insects, putmany questions to him bywhich he hoped to get somepracticalnaturalhistoryoutofhisstrangetale.

“Could you describe to me,” he asked, “the appearance of that duck thatcarriedyouabroadonhisfeet?”

Thereuponthebettletolduswhatherememberedofthisspeciesofwildfowlwhichregularlyvisitedhisnativepond-asplashofpinkonthecheeks;greywingfeathers,etc.

WhenhehaddonetheDoctormutteredtome:“Itwasn’taduckatall,Stubbins,Ifancy.Soundstomemuchmorelikeone

of the rarer geese. I had suspected that the feet of a duck could hardlyaccommodateacakeofmudbigenoughtocarryhimwithoutdiscomfort.IthinkIknowthebirdhemeans.OnlyvisitscertainpartsofEnglandintheearlyFall.Nowwe’llseewhatwecanfindoutaboutthegeographyofthetrip.”

JohnDolittle thenaskedhimcertain thingsabout thewindson thevoyage,the appearance of the islands the birds flew over, and of the coast line downwhichtheytravelledbeforetheyreachedtheirfinaldestination.

Thebeetle’sanswer to thesequestionsseemed toplease theDoctoragreatdeal.Forbeforetheywereendedhesuddenlygrabbedmebythearmandsaid:

“It’s Northern Brazil, Stubbins. I’m sure of it. This is quite valuableinformation.IhadoftenwonderedhowthatspeciesgotoutontotheAmericanside.Everythingpointstoit:thebirdthatcarriedhim,theislands,thecoastline—everything.Thiswillcompleteaveryimportantchapterinmypamphlet.Mygracious,ifIcouldonlytrainsomeofthoseinsectstonotethethingsIwantedtoknow!Thewholetroubleisofcoursethattheyonlyobservethosethingsthatareofvaluetothemselves.Butmaybe—er—perhapslateron—”

Hepaused,silent.“Why,Doctor,”Ilaughed,“areyougoingtomakenaturalistsoutofbeetles

now?”“IfIonlycould,”herepliedquiteseriously.“Formarkyou,Stubbins,there

aremanythingsinnaturalhistorythatonlyabeetlegetsthechancetoobserve.”Afterhehad thanked thewaterbeetle forhiskindserviceswecarriedhim

downtotheoldfish-pondatthebottomofthegardenandlethimgo.Our next experiments in insect languagewere extremely interesting. They

wereconcernedwithafamilyofflieswhich,JohnDolittletoldme,werecalledtheEphemera.Thesecreatures lived theirwhole lifecirclewithin thespaceofoneday.

“Iamveryanxious,Stubbins,”saidheaswewerebeginning,“tolearnwhatitfeelsliketobeborn,liveawholelifeandpassaway,allintwenty-fourhours.Adoglivesfromten to twentyyears;menfromsixty toninety; themountainslast many thousands before they crumble away. But these little fellows arecontenttopackallthejoysandexperiencesoflifeintotwenty-fourhours.Someoftheirphilosophy,theirobservations,should,Ithink,beveryvaluabletous.”

And sowith a pale, gossamer-like, green fly on the platform of ourmostdelicatelistening-machine,wesettowork.Thepoorlittlecreaturewasalreadymiddle-aged,becausehehadbeenbornearlythatmorninganditwasnowtwoo’clockintheafternoon.Heseemedveryfrail;andonecouldeasilyunderstandthatsounrobustaconstitutionwasn’tmadetolastverylong.

Weworkedonhim forhalf anhour andour resultswereverymeagre.He

hadthingstosay,wefeltsure.Butitwasalanguagenewtous.Clearlyanyonewhohastopackhiswholelifeintoonedaymusttalkveryfast.Wesoongottheimpressionthathewasreallypouringouthundredsofwordsasecond.Onlyweweren’tcatchingthemquickenough.

“Lookhere,Stubbins,”saidtheDoctor,“wearebeingentirelyheartless.Wecan’tletthispoorfellowspendmorethanhalfanhourtalkingtous.Why,halfanhouroutofhislifeisaforty-eighthpartofthewhole.Thatwouldbenearlyeighteenmonths for us.Whatmust he thinkof us? Imagine anyone talking toyouforayearandahalfwithoutstopping!Lethimgoatonce.Wemustdothison a different system.Wewill catch several singly andonlykeep them in theapparatusforfiveminutesatatime,Ifweareswiftenoughwithournote-taking,weshallperhapsbeabletogatheralittlefromwhateachonesaysandpieceitalltogetherafterwardsandmakesomethingofit.”

Andsobycatchinganumberofephemeraand listening toeachforaveryshortperiodwewentonwithourexperiment.

This wasn’t easy. Because not only did the kind-hearted Doctor refuse tokeephis captives in the listeningapparatus formore than fiveminutes,buthewould not on any account restrict their liberty, before or after the listeningexperiments,forasinglemoment.Consequentlywewereobligedtogooutaftereach specimen singly, catch it and bring it back to our work sheds with allpossible speed. Fortunately at that particularly season of the year, Spring, wewereabletogetthosefliesinabundance—foraweekorsoanyhow.

Theresultsofourlaboursaftertenortwelvedayswerereallyquitegood—inthecircumstances.Byveryexhaustiveandcontinuousworkwelearnedtofollowtheextraordinarylanguageof thisspecieswithfairease.Itwasthemost tiringtaskIthinkIeverdidastheDoctor’ssecretary.Thespeedoftheflies’statementswaspositivelystaggering.Wehad to inventasortofextra-rapidshort-handofour own, inwhich a single sign sometimes stood for awhole sentence.Aftereachspecimenwasreleasedwewentoverthenotestogetherandputthemintosuchformaswouldbelaterunderstandable,whilewhathadbeensaidwasstillfreshinourmemories.

This chapter in the book which John Dolittle later completed on insectlanguagewasperhapsthemostinterestinginthewholework.Fornotonlyhadthisspeciesatremendouslyswiftandcondensedwayofspeaking,butitspowersof observationwere correspondingly quick. In any life that lasts only twenty-four hours your impressions of thisworldmust of course be taken in at greatspeed. More than that, these impressions proved to be very original—quitedifferentfromthoseofanyclassofinsectswhichwehadsofarstudied.Ithinkitissafetosaythattheephemerawastedlesstimeinformingtheiropinionsand

makingtheirdecisionsthananyotherclassofanimallife.“You know, Stubbins,” said the Doctor, “it is really too bad that these

creatureshavenotahandinmanyoftheaffairswhichwehumansthinkwearesogoodat.ImagineaCabinetMinisterorthePostmaster-Generalmakingallthedecisionsofhiswholecareerwithintwenty-fourhours!IknowlotsofCabinetMinistersandheadsofgovernmentdepartmentsthatoughttobemadetotryit.One thingmust be said for the poor little frail ephemera: they certainly knowhowtomakeuptheirminds—andact—quickly.”

9.DAB-DAB’SVIEWSONINSECTLIFE

Afortnight laterwewereallgathered round thekitchenfireafter supper. IhadbeenworkingprettyhardatmysecretarialdutiesandtheDoctorhadinsistedthatItakeaneveningoff.Butheofcourse,whoneverseemedtotake,orneed,arest,wasbusyoutsideinhissheds,onsomenewphaseofhisstudiesininsectlanguage.

“I wonder,” said Chee-Chee looking dreamily into the fire, “how muchlongerheisgoingtooccupyhimselfwiththesemiserablebugs.Seemstomeasortofadullstudy.Itshouldbegettingnearthetimeforhimtotakeavoyage,don’tyouthinkso,Tommy?”

“Well,”Isaid,“letussee:Howlongisitsincehewentonone?”“Fivemonths,oneweekandthreedays,”saidChee-Chee.“Wegotbackonthe twenty-thirdofOctober—intheafternoon,”Polynesia

putin.“Dear me! How precise you are!” said I. “I suppose you two old globe-

trottersarehankeringtobeoffagain.HomesickforAfrica?”“Well,notnecessarilyAfrica,”saidChee-Chee.“ButIadmitIwouldliketo

seehimgetstartedonsomethingmoreexcitingthanlisteningtocockroaches.”“Thenextvoyagehegoeson,”saidGub-Gub,“hemusttakemewithhim.I

haven’tbeenabroadsincehevisitedtheLandoftheMonkeys,andtheKingdomof the Jolliginki. It’smy turn to go.Besides I need it inmy education.TheremustbeachapterinmyEncyclopediaofFood,onAfricanandPaganCooking.”

“Humph!” grunted Dab-Dab, who was clearing away the dishes from thetablebehindus.“Idon’tknowwherethefundsarecomingfromifhedoesgoonanothervoyage.Thereispreciouslittleleftinthemoneybox.”

“Thirteen pounds, nine shillings and twopence-halfpenny,” put in Too-Tootheaccountant—“andthebaker’sbillforlastmonthnotpaidyet.”

“IfyouthinkyouaregoingtogettheDoctortodropbuglanguageforalongwhileyet,youaresadlymistaken,”saidDab-Dab.“Whatdoyouthinkhewastalkingoflastnight?”

“I’venoidea,Dab-Dab,”saidI.“Well,” continued the housekeeper in a weary voice, “hementioned—just

mentionedinpassing,youknow—thathethoughtitwouldbeagoodthingifhedidsomethingfor—for”(sheseemedtohavegreatdifficultyinbringingherselftopronouncethefatalword)—“forhouse-flies!”

“Forhouse-flies!”Icried.“Whatonearthwashegoingtodoforthem?”“The Lord only knows,” groaned Dab-Dab, her voice full of patient

weariness. “That’s what I said to him: ‘Doctor,’ I said, ‘what in the name ofgoodnesscanyoudoforhouse-flies,thegreatestpestonearth—creatureswhichdonothingbutcarrydiseaseandruingoodfood?’

“‘Well,’ says he, ‘that’s just the point, Dab-Dab. The house-flies have nofriends.Perhapsifsomenaturalist,andareallygreatnaturalist,Dab-Dab—onewhocouldlookfar,farahead—weretotakeuptheircauseandseewhatcouldbedoneforthem,theycouldbemadeintofriendsfortherestofcreationinsteadofenemies. Iwould like, as an experiment, to start aCountryHouse forHouse-Flies.Ithinkitmightleadtosomeveryinterestingresults.’

“There,” Dab-Dab continued, “I flew right off the handle. I admit I don’toften losemy temper.”—She swept some cheese-crumbs savagely off a chair-seatwithherrightwing—“‘Doctor,’Isaid,‘thatisthelaststraw.You’vehadahomeforlostdogs;aratandmouseclub;asquirrels’hotel;arabbits’apartmenthouseandheavenonlyknowshowmanymorecrazynotions.Buttheidea,thevery idea, of a Country House for House-Flies!—well, that to my way ofthinking is about the end. Can’t you see,’ I said, ‘that this encouragement ofotheranimalspecies—withoutmoreer—er—discrimination,Ithinkyoucallit—willleadtotheruinanddestructionofyourownkindandmine?Somecreaturesjustcan’tbemadefriendsof.Encouragethehouse-fliesandMandisappears.’

“‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’ve been talking to them.And Imust confess there is agooddealtobesaidontheirside.Afterall,theyhavetheirrights.’

“‘Notwithme, they haven’t,’ said I. ‘They are a nuisance and a pest andcannotbetreatedasanythingelse.’—Suchaman!Whatcanonedowithhim?”

“Still,” put in Gub-Gub, “it is a wonderful idea—a Country House forHouse-Flies!Isupposetheywouldhaveaboy-swatforswattingboyswhocameinanddisturbedthem—thesameaspeoplehaveafly-swattokillflies….Andmaybehavepapersfullofstickygoonearthedoor,inwhichpeoplewouldgettangledupandstuckiftheyinvadedthepremises.It’squiteanidea.I’dliketoseeitstarted.”

“You’dliketoseeitstartedwouldyou?”screamedDab-DabrushingatpoorGub-Gubwithoutstretchedneckasthoughshemeanttoskewerhimagainstthewainscot.“Youhaven’tthewitsofacockroachyourself.Yougetstartedonyourwaytobedatonce—orI’llgetoutthefrying-panasapig-swat.”

Gub-Gubretiredintoacorner.“Justthesame,it’sagoodidea,”hemutteredtoToo-Tooashesettleddown

wheretheiratehousekeepercouldn’tseehim.

“'Justthesame,it'sagoodidea,'hemutteredtoToo-Too”IamgladtosaythattheDoctordidnot,asamatteroffact,attemptthiswild

planfortheencouragementofhouse-flies.Heavenonlyknowswhatwouldhavehappenedifhehad.Hementionedittomeonceortwicehowever.

“Myideawas,Stubbins,”hesaid,“thatflieswithahouseoftheirowntogoto—or several—would not bother to enter people’s houses. This eternal warbetweenthespecies—managainstrats,ratsagainstcats;catsagainstdogs,etc,etc.—thereisnoendtoit—mustleadfinallytosomesortoftyranny.JustnowManisontopasthetyrant.Hedictatestotheanimalkingdom.Butmanyofhislesserbrotherssufferinthatdictation.WhatIwouldliketosee—andindeeditis

my one ambition as a constructive naturalist—would be happy balance. I’venevermet any species, Stubbins, that did not do some good—general good—alongwiththeharm.House-fliesforexample:I’venoideawhatgoodtheydo,but I’m sure it exists.Bymaking themour friendsweought tobe able togettogether and improve conditions all round, instead of making war on oneanother.Wargetsusnowhere.”

“But there were other insect species which you thought of investigating,were there not?” I asked, hoping to side-track him away from the house-flies,whichtomesoundedlikearatherhopelessdirection.

“Oh, yes, yes—to be sure, to be sure,” said he hurriedly. “I’ve only juststarted.Thereare themothsandbutterflies.FromthemIhope to learnagreatdeal. It ishardly the rightseasonyet for thenaturalhatchingoutofbutterfliesand moths. But I have been working on my artificial incubators. We have asplendidsupplyofchrysales.IthinkIcanturnoutinthenextfewweeksaboutany kind of moth and butterfly I want—that is, of those varieties that arenaturallyfoundintheseparts.”

10.THEGIANTMOTHS

The followingeveningChee-Chee,before theDoctor returned tohis shedsoutsidethehouse,broachedthesubjectofavoyage.This,rathertooursurprise,hadtheeffectofkeepingtheDoctorinthefiresidecircleforseveralhourslaterthanwashiscustom.

“Well, Chee-Chee,” said he, “I’d like to take a voyage—it’s quite awhilesinceIwentabroad—butyousee,thereissomuchworkyettobedoneoninsectlanguagehereathome.Ineverbelieveinleavinganythingunfinished—ifIcanpossiblyavoidit.”

“Yes,but listen,Doctor,” saidPolynesia. “Youwill learnawhole lotmoreabout insectsand their languagesabroad. Itneverseemedtomethat travellingeverinterruptedyourstudies.Onthecontrarythefurtheryouwerefromhome,andthemoredifficulttheconditionsthatfacedyou,themoreyougotdone—sofarasIcouldsee.”

“Humph!” muttered the Doctor. “That’s quite a compliment, Polynesia, Iwonderifit’strue.”

“Inanycase,Doctor,”saidI,“it’salongwhilesinceyouwereonavoyage.Andyouknowonedoesmissalotifhedoesnotgoabroadeverysooften.”

“That’sso,”saidhe.—“That’strueenough.Butthenthetroubleis:whereto

go?You know, Stubbins, I’m afraid that inmy old age I’ve got very hard toplease in thematter of travel. All the big and important exploration has beendone.IftherewasajoblikethatwhichColumbusdid,orMagellan,orVascodaGama,stilllefttobeaccomplished,thatwouldbedifferent.”

“WhatdidVascodaGamado?”Iasked.“Oh,”saidBumpoproudly,“hewasthemanwhosailedaroundtheCakeof

GoodSoap.”“TheCapeofGoodHope,youmean,”saidJohnDolittlepatiently.“Butthe

point is, Stubbins, that most of the big, the important, exploration is alreadycarried out. Why should I worry about mapping the details of the smallergeographywhenthereisthelanguagesoftheinsects,withalltheymayhavetotellus, stillmisunderstood,stilla secret toMankind?Why, Iheard fromsomemothswhom Iquestioned this afternoon themost extraordinary things that noonewouldbelieve if you told them.This studyof insect languagesmay seemveryunimportanttoyouwhenmentionedalongsideavoyagetoforeignshores.ButIassureyouitisn’t.Noonewhohasn’tstudiedinsectlanguagecanhaveanyideawhatitmaycontributeto—er—modernthoughtandphilosophy.”

“Yes, but, Doctor,” I said, “abroad, as Polynesia suggests, you mightaccomplishstillbetterresultsinyourstudies.”

“Abroad!”—John Dolittle’s voice sounded to my surprise almostcontemptuous.Hewalkedovertothewindowandthrewbackthecurtains.Thelightofthefullmoonpouredintotheroom.

“Stubbins,”hesaidsuddenlyinastrange,intensevoice,“ifIcouldgettotheMoon!Thatwouldbeworthwhile!Columbusdiscoveredanewhalfofourownplanet.Allalonehedidit,pittinghisopinionagainsttherestoftheworld.Itwasagreatfeat.Thedaysofbigdiscovery,asIsaid,aregoneby.ButifIcouldreachtheMoonthenIcouldfeelIwastrulygreat—agreaterexplorerthanColumbus.TheMoon—howbeautifulshelooks!”

“Lordsaveus,”whisperedPolynesia.“What’scomeoverthegoodman?”“Humph!” muttered Bumpo. “It seems to me the Doctor is just talking

happy-go-foolish,asitwere.TheMoon!Howcouldhegetthere?”“It is not such a wild notion, Stubbins,” said John Dolittle leaving the

windowandappealing tomewithoutstretchedhands. “Someonewilldo it—someday.Itstandstoreason.Whatastepitwouldbe!ThenaturalistwhofirstreachedtheMoon!Ah!Hewillbetheonetomakestridesinscience—maybetogiveallinvestigationanewstart.”

“Listen,Doctor,”saidPolynesia,evidentlyanxioustocallhimbacktoearthandpracticalmatters, “wehaven’thada story fromyou inever so long.Howwoulditbeifyoutoldusoneto-night?”

“Story—story?”mumbledtheDoctor,inafarawaysortofvoice.“Myheadis too full of problems. Get one of the family to tell one. Tell one yourself,Polynesia,youknowplenty—orChee-Chee,yoursarealwaysworthhearing.”

“Itwould be better, Doctor,” saidChee-Chee, “if you told us one. It isn’toften,lately,thatyou’vebeenhomeevenings.”

“Notto-night,Chee-Chee,notto-night,”saidJohnDolittle,goingbacktothewindow and looking up again at the Moon. “I told you: my head is full ofproblems—andmoths.”

“Whatdoyoumean,yourheadisfullofmoths,Doctor?”askedDab-Dabinratheranalarmedvoice.

“Oh,”saidtheDoctor,laughing,“Ijustmeantthestudyofmothlanguage—anditsproblems.I’vebeenatitnowforseveraldaysandnightsandmyheadisfullofit.”

“Youshouldtakearest,”saidChee-Chee.“Avoyagewouldbeafinechangeforyou—andallofus.”

NowtheDoctorhadputinagooddealoftimeonthemothsalready,Iknew,withoutmyassistance.Iwasnaturallykeentohearifhehadmadeanyspecialdiscoveries.IhadbecomesomuchapartofhisresearchworkthatIfeltalmostabitjealousnowifhewentoffonhisownandleftmeout.

“Hadyouheardanythingofunusualimportance,Doctor,”Iasked,“inyourworkrecentlywiththemoths?”

“Well,yes,”hesaid.“IhatchedoutoneoftheHawkslastnight—abeautifulspecimen.Iputher—shewasaladymoth—inaglassdomewithasmalllightinitonthewindowsill.GreatnumbersofgentlemenHawkscametocallonher.Howtheygatheredsosuddenlywhentheirspecieshasneverbeenseenwithinahundredmilesofheregoodnessonlyknows. Icaughta fewandexperimentedwiththeminthelisteningmachines.And—er—”

Hehesitatedamomentwithapuzzledlookonhisface.“Well,”Iasked,“whatdidtheytellyou?”“Itwasmostextraordinary,”hesaidatlength.“Theydidn’tseemtowantto

letme knowwhere they came from, nor how they had found theirway here.Quite mysterious. So I gave up that line of inquiry and asked for generalinformation about their history and traditions. And they told me the wildeststory.Perhapsithasnotruthin itwhatever.But—er—well,youknowmostofthemembersoftheHawkfamilyarelarge—thatisforthispartoftheworld.SoIgotontothesubjectofsize,andtheytoldmeofaraceofmothsasbig—well,Iknowitsoundscrazy—asbigasahouse.Isaidatonceofcourse,‘No.Itcan’tbe.There’ssomemistake’—thinkingthatmyscantyknowledgeofthelanguagehadledmeastray.Buttheyinsisted.Therewasatraditioninmothhistorythat

somewherethereweremothsasbigasahousewhocouldliftatonweightintheairjustasthoughitwereafeather.—Extraordinary—mysterious!Themothsareacuriousrace.”

II.OTHOTHEPREHISTORICARTIST

“Oh,well,comealongnow,Doctor,”saidChee-Chee,“tellusastory,do.”“Notto-night,”JohnDolittlerepeated.“Youtellthemone,Chee-Chee.”“Allright,”saidChee-Chee,“Iwill.ButIambynomeanssurethiscrowd

willunderstandit.I’lltellyouonethatmygrandmotherusedtotellus—inthejungle—ataleoflong,long,longago.”

“Good!” grunted Gub-Gub, coming forward to the table.With the DoctorpresenthewasnolongerafraidofDab-Dabthehousekeeper.

“Thousandsand thousandsand thousandsofyearsago,”Chee-Cheebegan,“there lived a man. Otho Bludge was his name. He had a whole country tohimself, inthosefaroffdayswhenthereweren’tsomanypeopleintheworld.Hewasanartist,wasOtho.He lived tomakepictures.Ofcourse therewasn’tanypaperthenandhehadtousesuchmaterialsashecouldget.Reindeerhornwaswhatheusedmostly.Therewereplentyofreindeerabout.Forapencilheusedastoneknife.Andwiththishewouldcuthispicturesontheflatpartofthehorn.Sometimesheused rocks, cutting and chiselling into the stone the ideaswhichoccurredtohimasworthwhile.

“Hehadmadepicturesofdeer,fish,butterflies,bison,elephantsandallthecreatureswhich abounded around him.His one great ambitionwas tomake apictureofMan.ButManwasscarce.Othohimselfwastheonlyspecimeninthatdistrict.Helookedathimselfandtriedtomakeapictureofarmsandlegs.Butitwasn’tmuchgood.Thenhewentdowntoapoolinthestreamandtriedtodrawhisownreflection.Buthehadtoleanawayoverthewatertoseehisimageandthatwashardtoo.

“‘No,’hesaid,‘I’vegot tofindanothercreature likemyselfandmakehimstandstill.ThenI’lldrawmybestpicture—aportraitofMan.’

“Sohesetouthunting.Andfordaysandweekshewanderedoverthewidecountrywhichhehadalltohimself,andwentoutsideandbeyonditinsearchofafellowman.Butnotonecouldhefind.Manyinterestingnewanimalshesaw—many of whom fought him and chased him across the landscape. Trees toowhichhehadneverseenbeforegavehimmanyfreshideasforpictures.ButManhe could not find.As amatter of fact he had only a very vague idea of ever

having seen another human. That was his mother. How she had becomeseparated from him he could not remember—nor how he had managed tosurvivewhenleftalone.

“Treeswhichhehadneverseenbeforegavehimideas”“So,quitedisconsolateandmiserable,Othoreturned to theplacewherehe

usuallydidhisdrawingsandtriedtomakehispictureofManwithoutanyonetodrawfrom.Butitdidn’tgoanybetter.Hecouldgetalegoranarmoraheadtolookprettyrightbutthewholebodydidn’tseemtofittogetheratall.

“Thenhesaid tohimselfaloud—heoften talked tohimselfbecausehehadno one else to talk to—‘Oh, how I wish some one would spring out of thegroundandstandonthatrockovertheresoIcouldfinishmyportrait!’

“Andthen,whatdoyouthink?Youcouldneverguess.Whilehewaslookingat therocktherehesawasortofpinkfoggatheringontopof it.OthoBludgebrushed thebackofhishandacrosshis face thinking thatperhaps theglareofthesunwasdoingstrangethingswithhiseyesight.Butthepinkfogseemedreal.Presentlyitbegantoclearawaylikethevalleymistsbeforethewindsofdawn.Andwhenatlastitwasgonehesawkneelingontherockabeautifullittlegirl,

justthewayhewantedforthepicture,abowandarrowinherhands.Sheworenoclothes,becauseinthosedaystheworldwasfrightfullyhotatallseasons,andofcourseskirtsandbodiceswerenothingbutanuisance.Aboutherrightwrist,whichwasdrawnbacktoholdthearrowonthebow-string,sheworeabraceletofbluestonebeads.

“'Aboutherrightwristsheworeabraceletofbeads'”“Othowassodelightedwithhisgoodluckthathedidn’tdarespeakaword.

Hetookafreshpieceofreindeerhornandset toworkatonce.Hecarvedandcarvedandcarved.Neverhadhedrawnsowellinallhislife.Heknewhewascuttinghismasterpicture.Thelittlegirlkeptperfectlystilllikeastatuefortwowholehours.Othoknewafterwardsthatitwastwowholehoursbecauseoftheshadowsthattherocksthrew.Heusedtomeasurehistimebythelengthoftheshadows—havingnowatchofcourse.

“Finallyhefinishedhispicture.Itwasgood.Heknewitwas.Hehelditofftolookatit.Butwhenheglancedbackattherockhenoticedthatthepinkfogwasbeginningtoreturn.

“‘Good gracious!’ said he to himself. ‘Can it be that she is going to fade

awayagain?’“Yes,itseemedlikeit.Thepinkfogwasgrowingandshewasdisappearing.

Onlyasortofshadowofhernowremained.Othowasterriblyupset.“‘Listen,’hecalledout,‘whyareyougoingaway?I’vegotawholecountry

tomyselfhere—andit’smuchtoobigforjustone.Whydon’tyoustayandplayathousekeeperwithme?’

“Butsheonlyblushedallover,shookherheadandwentondisappearing.“‘Atleastyoucantellmewhoyouarebeforeyougo,can’tyou?’criedpoor

Otho,tearscomingintohiseyes.“By this time shewas nearly gone.Very little remained of her except her

voicewhichsaidfaintlybutmusically—“‘IamPippiteepa.Iamsorry,butIhavetogobackintotheUnseenWorld.I

have a verybusy life beforeme.For I am to be themother of all theFairies.Farewell!’

“Nothingwasnowtobeseenbut justa thinribbonof thepinkfogcurlingslowlyupward.PoorOthorushedtotherockandclutcheditasthoughbysheerforcetokeepherinhisworldwherehewantedhersomuch.Butshewasgone.Andlyingontheplacewhereshehadstoodwasthebraceletofbluebeads.Thatwas all that was left of her. It must have fallen off while she was doing thedisappearancemagic.Othoputitonhisownwristandworeitallhislife.

“Foralongtimehewasdreadfullymiserable,wanderingaroundtherockforhours and hours hoping she might change her mind and come back. But shenevercame.It’sakindofsadstory,butmygrandmothersworeitwastrue.Othoatlastgotintoafightwithoneofthebiggrazingbeaststhatlivedinthosetimes,asortofcrossbetweenagiraffeandagiantlizard.

“This creaturecameupandwanted tocrop thegrass thatgrewaround thenowsacredrockandOthotriedtodrivehimoff.Hegotnastyandputupafight.ThiskeptOthosobusythatitputPippiteepaoutofhismindfortherestoftheday.Andafterawhilehewentbacktomakingpicturesofanimalsandtrees.HecarefullykepttheportraithehadmadeofPippiteepabutneveragainattemptedtomakeapictureofMan.Hewentonhoping,always,thatsomedayshewouldchangehermindandcomeback.”

12.“THEDAYSBEFORETHEREWASAMOON”

I don’t know that I have ever seen theDoctormore interested in anythingthanheseemedtobeinthisstoryofOthoBludgeandPippiteepa.

“Tell me, Chee-Chee,” said he, “you say your grandmother told you thisstory,eh?”

“Yes,” Chee-Chee replied, “it was one of her favourite ones. I must haveheardhertellitatleastadozentimes.”

“'Imusthaveheardhertellitatleastadozentimes'”“Humph!” theDoctor grunted, “very curious—most peculiar.Did she ever

sayanythingwhichmightgiveyouanideaofwhen—howlongago—thistookplace?”

“Well,” said Chee-Chee, “of course to me it only seemed like a—er—alegend,Ithinkyoucallit—somethingthatmighthaveneverhappenedbutwhichwasbelievedbyalmosteveryone.”

“Butthetime?”theDoctorrepeated.“Youhavenoideaaboutwhenthiswassupposed to have happened—I mean anything else that was spoken of asbelongingtothesameperiodwhichmightgiveussomeclue?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Chee-Chee answered.—“And yet, wait, there wassomething.Iremembershealwaysbeganthestorythisway:‘Inthedaysbeforetherewas aMoon,’ I could never understandwhy. It didn’t seem tome very

important.”DoctorDolittlealmostleaptoutofhischair.“DidyourgrandmothereverspeakoftheMoonfurther,Chee-Chee—Imean

anythingmorethanjustthat?”“Yes,” said Chee-Chee, evidently cudgelling his brain to remember things

longpast.“Itseemsthatinmonkeyhistory,whichwasofcoursealwaysamouthtomouthbusiness,therewasabeliefthattheMoonwasonceapartoftheEarth.Andtherecameagreatexplosionorsomethingandpartofitwasshotoffintothe skiesand somehowgot stuck there.Buthow itbecame round likeaball Icould never understand nor find anyonewho could explain it tome. Becausetheyusedtosaythatthepieceoftheearththatgotshotoffwasthelandwherethe PacificOcean now is and that isn’t round at all. But of course thewholething is by nomeans certain.Myself, I’ve always had grave doubts about thetruthofanypartofthestory.”

ThehouseholdwasquitedelightedoverChee-Chee’sstory,notonlywiththeentertainmentofthetaleitself,butbecausetheDoctorbecamesoabsorbedinthesubjectoftheMoonandthelegendsofmonkeyhistorythathekeptusalluptilllongaftermidnight.

“Youknow,Stubbins,”he said tome, “nomatter howwild this storymaysound,itiscuriouslyborneoutbyseveralthings.Forinstance,Irememberthatinmyconversationwith theGiantSeaSnailhe toldmeofabeliefwhichwasfirmlyheldbytheolderformsofsealifethatsomesuchshootingoffofpartoftheEarth’ssurfacemadethedeepoceanandaccountedfortheMoon.AlsomygeologicalobservationswhenweweretravellingacrosstheflooroftheAtlanticcertainly pointed to some such violent cleavage—only Chee-Chee says hisgrandmotherspokeofthePacificOcean,nottheAtlantic.YouknowitmakesmealmostwanttogobacktoAfricaandquestionsomeoftheoldermonkeysthere.ImightgetotherversionsandmoredetailsofthisstrangestoryofOthoBludgeandPippiteepa.”

“Well,Doctor,”saidI,scentingachancetogethimoffonavoyageafterall—for I felt he sorely needed one—“why not? Last time when you were inAfrica,accordingtoPolynesiaanyway,youweresobusywithhospitalworkandgettingawayfromtheJolliginkiarmythattheremusthavebeenagreatdealofinterestingworkthathadtogoundone.”

“Oh,but,”saidhe,shakinghisheadimpatiently,“Imustn’tbetempted.Onewouldnevergetanythingaccomplishedbyjustrunningoffaftereveryattractiveideathatpulledonethiswayorthat.ImuststicktothisinsectlanguagegametillIfeelIhavereallydonesomethingworthwhilewithit.Iwanttofollowupthestorythemothtoldmeaboutagiantspecies.Itisfunny,theselegendsinanimal

history—the monkeys and the Moon: the moths and the Giants. There issomething in that I feel sure. The moths are a very mysterious race. I don’tbelievethatonetenthpartofwhattheydointhegeneraleconomyoftheanimalandvegetablekingdomsisappreciated.Andimaginewhatamoththesizeofahousemightdo!”

“But surely,” said I, “if therewere such enormous flies flopping about theworld somewhere other people must have seen them. I confess I can hardlybelievethestory.”

“It sounds incredible enough, I know,” saidhe. “But I’m sure that if therewerenotsomethinginitthestorywouldnotexistamongthemoths.”

13.MEMORIESOFLONGARROW

For me one of the most interesting things in the Doctor’s study of insectlanguagewasthehatchingoutofthemothsandbutterfliesfromthecaterpillarorchrysalisforms.Throughout thepreviousAutumnandpartof theWinterIhadassisted him in the collection of caterpillars and chrysales and we had a finestockinthehatchinghouses.Thecareoftheserequiredconsiderableknowledgeandexperience—ofwhichIhadnotagreatdeal,thoughIwasalwayslearning.Theyhad tobekeptat the right temperatureandmoistureandeachcaterpillarhadtobefedonaspecialkindofleaftillhehadspunhiswebandretiredintohischrysalisshell.ButtheDoctorwhohadstudiedbutterflieseversincehewasa boy of nine had a positively prodigious knowledge of the subject.He neverseemedtomakeamistakeandinhishandsamothorbutterflycouldbemadetohatchoutwithjustasmucheaseandcomfortasitwouldinthewildstate.Infactconditions in theDolittlehatchinghouseswere rathermore fortunate for theseinsectsthanthoseoftheopen;fortheywereprotectedfromtheirenemies,whichveryfrequently in thewildwoulddevourabutterflyormothalmostdirectly itwasbornintotheworld.

“Eachcaterpillarhadtobefedonaspecialkindofleaf”Withsomeoftherarerandmorebeautifulfliesitwasquiteathrillingthing

towatch for their hatching.TheDoctor usually gave each specimen at least aday’s freedom in the little indoor flower-garden, which was prepared for hisreception,beforeexperimentingonhimwiththelisteningapparatus.

Butoneof theearlydiscoverieswemadewas that the language,suchas itwas,hadbeenapparentlyknowntotheinsectsbeforetheywerebornintotheflystate.

“Iimagine,Stubbins,”saidtheDoctor,whenwewerediscussingthiscuriousfact one day, “that one of the reasons for this is that the insects already havesome life experience in the caterpillar form. Then the methods of conveyingtheirideas,whichwecallalanguage,cannotbecalledafterallactualtalking,inwhichthetonguehastobetrainedtomakesounds.Andfortherestthereisnodoubtthatthisformoflifeinheritsalotmoreexperienceandtrainingthanweorthelargeranimalsdo.Theirmemoriesgofurtherback,beyondtheshorttermoftheirownlife,andcarryoverimpressionsandideasthatreallybelongtotheherd—tothespecies.”

Thisknowledgeofthingsthatlayoutsidetheirownexperienceinthemothsand butterflies interested the Doctor a great deal. The case of the gentlemenvisitorswhomysteriouslyfound theirway to theDoctor’shouse tocallon theladyHawkwas not by anymeans the only example of the astonishing thingsthesecreaturescoulddo.

Whenitcametotryingtofindouthowtheyaccomplishedthesemysteriousfeatswediscoveredwewereagainstahardproblem.They themselvesdidnotseemtoknowhowtheyfoundtheirwayaboutassoonastheywereborn;howtheyknewthewaytothekindofleavesandfoodtheywanted,etc.

Theyseemedtobebornalsowithaquiteunexplainablestoreoflegendsandhistoryabouttheirownspeciesandaknowledgeoftheenemieswhichtheymustavoidiftheywishedtosurvive.Alltheycouldtelluswhenwecametoquestionthemonhowtheygotthisknowledgewasthattheyknewit.

“You know, Stubbins,” said the Doctor, “that is what is called intuitiveknowledge,bythephilosophers,knowledgeyouarebornwith.Withhumansitisprettysmall.Asbabiesweknowenoughtocrywhenwewantabottleandweknowenoughtosuckthebottlewhenit isgiventous.That’saboutall.It isn’tmuch. But it is something. Chickens, on the other hand, are born with aknowledgeofhowtowalkandpeckandhowtoruntotheirmotherswhenshegivesthecallofalarmifdangerisnear.That’sbetterthanwecando.Butthesefellows! Their intuitive knowledge is tremendous. Theirmothers are nowherenearthemwhentheycomeintotheworld.Yettheyknowhowtofly,howtosetabout thewhole business of life right away.But the part that fascinatesme istheir knowledge of legends and history belonging to their own race. That’ssomethingquitenew,asfarasIknow—andalsothemainthingthatmakesmesohopefulthatwecanlearnagreatdealofrealscientificvaluefromthem.Itisthe intuitive knowledgewhichwe humans are so short on—especially the so-calledcivilizedhumans.”

Hepausedamoment,thoughtfulandsilent.“Yousee,theprimitivepeople,”hepresentlywenton,“aremuchbetter.You

rememberLongArrow?”“Yes,indeed,”Isaid.“CouldI—couldanyone—forgethim?”“Nearly all,” said the Doctor, “of that perfectly wonderful botany work

which he didwas accomplished by intuitive investigation. The samewith hisnavigation and geography. I used to question him for hours trying to find outhowhehaddonethesethings.Hedidn’tknow.Hejustbeganalongsomelineofinstinct and followed it till he got results.-Long Arrow!My gracious, what aworldhewas!Thegreatestscientistofthemall.AndthebigwigsupinLondon,theRoyalSociety,TheNaturalHistoryMuseumandtherest,theyhardlyknow

hisname!WhenItriedtotellthemabouthimtheythoughtIwascracked,asortofMunchhausenromancingabouthisvoyages—Ah,well!”

ThisrecallingofLongArrowandourdaysonSpidermonkeyIslandputusbothinaseriousreminiscentmood.Chee-Chee,whohadsharedthosedaysandadventures,hadcomeintothestudyamomentortwobeforeandwaslisteningintently.Isawanexpressiononhisfacewhichtoldmehehadthesamethoughtin mind as I had. I turned back to the Doctor, who had moved over to thewindowandwasoncemoregazingupatthefullmoonwhichfloodedthegardenoutsidewithaghostlylight.

“Listen,Doctor,”Isaid,“supposingyousoughtoutLongArrowagain:isn’titquitepossible,withhisgreatknowledgeofthisintuitivekindofinvestigation,thathemightbeabletohelpyouwithyourstudyofthemoths—thelanguageofinsects? He has probably already done a great deal in the same directionhimself.”

I saw from the quick manner in which the Doctor swung away from thewindowandfacedmethatmydodgetogethimagaininterestedintheideaofvoyages had had effect. But almost at once he frowned as though a secondthoughthadinterfered.

“Oh,but,Stubbins,”saidhe,“goodnessonlyknowswhereLongArrowmaybenow.Heneverstayedmanymonths,asyouremember,inanyplace.Itmighttakeyearstofindhim.”

“Anyhow,”saidChee-Chee,speakingupforthefirsttime,“Idon’tseewhyyou shouldn’tgo toSpidermonkeyand takeup the trail.Youhadn’t anymoreideaofhiswhereabouts last timeyou setout to seekhim.Andyetyou foundhim.”

AgaintheDoctorpaused.Iknewthewanderlustwasonhim—asitwasonme,Chee-CheeandPolynesia.Yetheevidentlyfeltthatinfollowinghisimpulsehewasrunningawayfromaseriousandimportantwork.

“But,Chee-Chee,”hesaid,“lasttimeIhadsomethingtogoon.Miranda,thePurpleBirdofParadise,hadtoldmehewassomewhereintheneighbourhoodofNorthernBrazilorSpidermonkey Island.Whilenow?—Nooneonearthcouldtelluswheretobeginlookingforhim.”

“Listen,Doctor,”Isaid.“Yourememberthewaywedecidedlasttime?Youhadgivenupallhopeoffindinghim,whenMirandacameandtoldyouhehaddisappeared.”

“Yes,Iremember,”saidJohnDolittle.“SoweplayedBlindTravel,theAtlasgame,yourememberthat?”“Yes,Ido,”saidtheDoctor.Chee-Cheeshuffledalongtheflooranddrewalittlenearer.

“Well,” said I, “why not play it again?You don’t knowwhere he is. Lasttimewehadgoodluck.Maybewe’llhaveasgood—orbetter—thistime.Whatdoyousay?”

For somemoments John Dolittle hesitated. He went back to the window,drewasidethecurtainsandagaingazedupattheMoon.

“Howbeautifulshelooks!”hemuttered.“Well?”Irepeated.“Whatdoyousay?ShallweplayBlindTravel?”This appeal to the boy in him was evidently too strong. The frown

disappearedfromhisfaceandsuddenlyhesmiled.“I think itmightbequite agood idea,Stubbins. It is supper time, I fancy.

BringalongtheatlasandI’llmeetyouinthekitchen.”

14.BLINDTRAVELAGAIN

Chee-Cheewasoverjoyed.AstheDoctorleftthestudytogotothekitchen,Imoved towards the book-case. But the agile monkey was there before me.Scalinguptheshelvesasthoughtheywerealadder,hehadthebigvolumedownoffthetopinlesstimethanittakestotellit.Togetherwecarriedittothetableandlaiditdown.

“Oh,my,Tommy,”hewhispered,“we’reinluck!”He began opening the pages. The first—howwell I remembered it!—title

page:“ATLASOFTHEWORLD.Giving the LatestDiscoveries in Africa, theArcticandAntarcticContinents,etc.PublishedbyGreenandSons,Edinburgh,intheyear,”etc.,etc.Thencametheastronomicpage—thesignsoftheZodiac;phasesoftheMoon;precessionoftheEquinoxes,etc.,etc.

“The Moon!” muttered Chee-Chee. “Poor old Doctor! He seems to havegonealmostbalmyabouttheMoon.My,butlookatallthelandswemightvisit!Comeon,Tommy,let’sgettothekitchenandmakehimbeginbeforehechangeshismind.”

Grabbing a sharp pencil off the Doctor’s desk, I took the heavy volumeundermyarmandfollowedChee-Cheeoutoftheroom.

Inthekitchenwefoundallthefamilyseatedaboutthetablewaitingforus:Bumpo,Gub-Gub,Too-Too,Jipandthewhitemouse.

“Ah,”said theDoctor,“youhave theatlas,Stubbins—andapencil?Good!Justholdbackthedinneramoment,Dab-Dab,willyou,whileweseewherewearetogo?”

“Go?Go?-Whatdoeshemean?”askedGub-GubofChee-Cheeinanexcited

whisper.“He has consented to play Blind Travel with us,” Chee-Chee whispered

back.“Whatonearthisthat?”askedGub-Gub.“Oh, you open the atlas with your eyes shut and put a pencil down. And

whateverpointithits, that’stheplaceyou’vegottogo.Goodness,I’mallofaflutter!Idohopeit’ssomewhereinAsia.IwanttoseetheEast.”

Well,ifChee-Cheewasinaflutter,ashecalledit,Gub-Gubwasevenmoreagitated over this momentous game we were about to play. He kept runningaround to a different place at the table, jumping up on some one else’s chair,being sat on, upsetting people, overturning furniture and generally getting thewholegatheringfrazzledandconfused.

Not that any of us were what you could call calm. A very great dealdependedon this strangegamewhich theDoctorhad inventedwhenhewasayoungman.Then itonlyaffectedhim. In thosedayshewasa freeunattachedbachelor and this oddmethod of determining his destinationmeant very littledifferencesofaraspreparationswereconcerned.Butnow(Ididnotyetknowhowmanyofthehouseholdhemeanttotakewithhim)itsoutcomemightmeanmuchforseveralofus.

“Listen,”saidtheDoctorwhenhehadthebigbooklaidinthecentreofthetable:“LasttimeStubbinsheldthepencil.HowwoulditbeifBumpodiditthistime?Heisaluckyindividual,Iknow.”

“Allright,”saidBumpo.“ButIhopeIdon’tsendyoualltothemiddleoftheSpecificOcean.”(Hewasturningoverthefirstfewpagesandhadpausedatoneillustratingtheproportionsoftheglobeinlandandwater.)

“That’s all right,” said theDoctor. “Oneof the rulesof thegame is that ifyourpencilfallsonwater,youhaveasecondtry.Andthesamethingappliesifyoutouchatownoradistrictwhereyouhavebeenbefore.Youkeepontryingtillyoustrikeland,landwhichyouhavenevervisited.Thenyouhavetogothere—haveto—somehow.”

“Verygood,”saidBumpotakingupthepencilandclosingthebook.“Ihopethisisoneofmyluckynights.”

'Ihopethisisoneofmyluckynights'”“I hope so too,” whispered Gub-Gub nosing up his snout on to the table

betweentheDoctor’selbowandmine.“Iwouldlikeawarmcountrywherethereis plenty of sugar-cane. It’s years since I tasted sugar-cane. In theCanaries itwas,whenwewere hiding away from thosewretched pirates.You remember,Polynesia?”

15.GUB-GUBHALTSTHEGAME

Itwas quite a picture, that group around the table—and itwill never fadefrommymemorywhilelifelasts.Bumpowastheonlyonestanding.Heheldthepencil in his enormous right fist. His left hand grasped the atlas, closed, andrestingonthebackofitsbinding,readytoletitfallopenatwhateverpageFateshoulddecide.Therestofuswereseatedroundinacircletensewithexcitement,watchinghim.Fourcandlesburnedon the table inbrass sticks.Foramomentyoucouldhaveheardapindropsoperfectwasthesilence.

“Areyouquiteready,Bumpo?”askedtheDoctorinastrangelysteadyvoice.“Remember,youcloseyoureyes,letthebookfallopenandthenstabdownwiththepencilpoint.”

“Yes, Doctor,” said Bumpo screwing up his face with a most comicalgrimace.“I’mquiteready.”

“Splendid!”saidtheDoctor.“Goahead.”Bumpoletgohislefthand.Theheavybookfellopenwithabang.Hisright

fist, describing circles in the air with the pencil, slowly lowered the point….Then—Crash!

Gub-Gubinhiseagernesstolearnwhereweweretogohadrockedthetableas he lurched forward, and all four candles toppled over. The room was indarkness.

Atonceababelofvoicesbrokeouteverywhere.Everyoneshoutedadviceatonce.ButtheDoctor’swastooemphatictobedrowned.

“Holdit,Bumpo!”hecried.“Don’tmoveyourpencil.Wewillhavealighthereinamoment.Keepyourpencilwhereitis.”

Of course, as is always the way, the matches were not handy. Dab-Dab,whackingpoorGub-Gubover theearswithherwing,startedout tofind them.Shewasquitealongtimeaboutit.Butsoonwebegantoseedimlyanyhow.Forthe fullmoon that flooded thegardenoutside thewindowsmade itpossible tomakeout thegeneralshapeofeverythingin theroom.Oneof thecurtainshadnotbeencompletelydrawnacross.

“It’sallright,Doctor,”saidBumpo.“I’mhangingontoit.Getamatchandlet’sseewherewearetogo.”

Theexcitement,asyoucanimagine,wastremendous.Themoonlightintheroomwasenoughtoseeoneanotherbybutnotenoughtoreadby.

“I’llbet it’sAfrica,”saidPolynesia.“Well, Idon’tknowas Ishallmind—much.Itisagoodcountry.Idon’tcarewhatanybodysays.”

“Itisn’tAfrica,”saidToo-Too.“Iknowit.”“Whatis it then?”weallcried,rememberingthatToo-Toocouldseeinthe

dark.“I shan’t tell,” said Too-Too. “But you can take my word for it, it’s a

surprise!—Yes,it’scertainlyasurprise.Weshallneedallthemoneywecanraiseforthisvoyage.”

“Oh, do please hurry up with the matches, Dab-Dab!” cried Gub-Gub. “IshallburstifIdon’tknowsoonwherewe’regoing.Andthismoonlightisgivingmethejim-jams.”

Sointentwasheongettingalightheleftthetableandgropedhiswayoutofthe door to assist the housekeeper in her search. All he succeeded in doing

howeverwastobumpintoherinthedarkasshecameinwithherwingsfullofafreshsupplyofcandlesandthemuchneededmatches.CompletelybowledoverbyhercollisionwiththeportlyGub-Gub,Dab-Dabdroppedthematches,andinthe scuffle they were kicked away into some corner where they couldn’t befound.

Among us who remained in the kitchen the general excitement was notlessenedbythesoundsofGub-Gubgettingspankedandpeckedbytheindignantduck.Squeakingheranforthescullery,wherefromfurthernoisesthatfollowed,heapparentlytrippedoveramatandfellintoapail.

“Trippedoveramatandfellintoapail”AtlasttheDoctorhimselfwenttotherescue.Hesucceededinreachingthe

larderwithoutmishap,wherehefoundanotherboxofmatchesandcamebacktouswithalightshadedinhishands.

As the first beam fell across the open atlas my heart gave a big thump.Bumporolledhiseyestowardstheceilinginsuperstitioushorror.Polynesiagavea loudsquawk.WhileChee-Cheehissedbeneathhisbreatha long lowhissofconsternation.

Thebookhadfallenopenattheastronomicpage.Bumpo’spencilhadlandedinasmallerillustrationdownintheleft-handcorner.AnditspointstillrestedinthecentreoftheMoon!

PARTTHREE

1.BUMPOANDMAGIC

TheDoctorhimselfwas, I think, theonlyonewhomadeno remarkat all.Silent and thoughtful, he stood gazing down at the atlas overwhichBumpo’shugeblackfiststillhung,holdingthepencilpointintotheheartoftheMoon.

“Shivermytimbers!”growledPolynesiahitchingherselfalongthetablewithher funniest sailorgait.“Whatavoyage,my lads,whatavoyage!Yes, it’s theMoonall right.—Well, I supposehemighthavehit theSun. Itspicture’s thereandalltheotherblessedheavenlybodies.Couldbeworse.”

“'Shivermytimbers!'growledPolynesia”“Iwonder,”saidGub-Gub,whohadreturnedfromthesculleryandwasnow

alsoleaningoverthepage,“whatsortofvegetablestheyhaveintheMoon.”“Tee-hee!”titteredthewhitemouse.“SuchajokeIneverheard!”“Idon’tseewhythereshouldn’tberats,”saidJip.“TheMoonalwayslooks

tomeasthoughitwasfullofholes.”“Itshouldbeacheapplacetolive,”saidToo-Too.“Idon’tsupposetheyuse

moneythereatall.”“Yes,but itwouldcostaprettypenny toget there,don’t forget!”muttered

Dab-Dab.Bumpo’sfeelingsaboutthestrangeoutcomewerequitecurious.Heseemed

dreadfullyfrightened.Inoticedhisbighandwastremblingasitstillgraspedthepencil in place. Yet Bumpo was no coward, that we all knew. It was theUnknown,thesourceofallhumanfear,thatnowshookhiscourage.GentlyJohnDolittleleanedoverandtookthepencilfromhisparalysedhand.

“Idon’tlikeit,Doctor,”hesaidinaweakvoiceatlast.“Idon’tlikeitabit.There is ju-ju business here.Witchcraft andmagic.Why, only last night youweresayingyouwantedtogototheMoon.Andnowwhenweplaythisgame,witheyesshut,Ihititrightinthecentre,theMoonitself!”

Beneathhisduskyskinhelookedquitepale.Hedrewawayfromthebookandthetableasthoughhefearedthebalefulinfluenceofthatmysteriousforcewhichhadguidedhishand.

“Oh,it’s justacoincidence,Bumpo,”saidtheDoctor.“It isodd.Iadmit—mostodd.But—er—well,it’sacoincidence,that’sall.”

“All right,” saidDab-Dab finallybreaking into thediscussionwith amorepracticalvoice,“coincidenceornot,inthemeantimethesupperisgettingcold.If you’ll take that wretched book off the table, Tommy, we will bring in thesoup.”

“Butshouldn’tweplayitoveragain,Doctor?”askedJip.“That’saplacenoonecouldgetto,theMoon.Weareentitledtoanothertry,arewenot?accordingtotherulesofBlindTravel.”

“Maybe,”snappedDab-Dab,“accordingtotherulesofBlindTravel,butnotaccording to the rules of this kitchen—not before supper anyway. The food’sbeendelayedhalfanhourasitis.Sitdown,everyone,andlet’sbeginbeforeitisruinedentirely.”

WealltookourplacesattheboardandthemealwasbeguninratheranoddgeneralsilencewhichwasbrokenonlybyGub-Gub’snoisymannerofdrinkingsoup.

“Well,anyway,Doctor,”saidBumpoafterafewmoments,“youcouldn’tgetthere,couldyou?—TotheMoon,Imean.”

“Oh,Iwouldn’tgosofarastosaythat,Bumpo,”repliedtheDoctor.“Onthe

contrary,I’mconvincedsomeonewillsomedaygetthere.Butofcourse,forthepresent until science has provided us with new methods of aerial travel it isprettymuchoutofthequestion.Asamatteroffactinaway,I’mgladthegameturned out the fashion it did. I was already beginning to regret that I hadpromisedStubbinsandChee-Cheewewouldplayit.Ireallyshouldsticktomyworkhere.Iamawfullykeentogettothebottomofthisstorythemothstoldmeaboutagiant race.ThemoreI thinkof that,and thefurther I followitup, thesurerIbecomethatithasafoundationoftruth.”

“Youmeanyouwon’ttakeanothertryatBlindTravel,Doctor?”saidChee-Cheeinasadlydisappointedvoice.

“Well,” said John Dolittle, “I have fulfilled my promise, haven’t I? Thepencil struck landwhichnoone could reach for the present anyhow. If you’llshowmesomewayIcangettotheMoon,we’llgo.Inthemeantime—well,wehaveourworktodo.”

2.THETAPPINGONTHEWINDOW

Andso there followedon thegeneral feelingofconsternationoneofacutedisappointment.Thewholehousehold,withthepossibleexceptionofDab-Dab(and I’m by no means sure she too would not have welcomed the idea of avoyageat thistime)hadbeenkeyeduptothepromiseofdepartureforforeignshores.Nowwiththeprospectofremaininghomeindefinitely,therewasquitealet-downallround.Promptlyremarksbegantobreakforth.

“Well,but,Doctor,”saidChee-Chee,“howaboutLongArrow?Youagreedthathemightbemosthelpfulinthisstudyofinsectlanguageander—Whatdidyou call it?—intuitive investigation. Are you going to give up the idea ofconsultinghim,justbecauseBumpostrucktheastronomicpageintheatlas?”

“Chee-Chee,”saidtheDoctor,“didn’tItellyouthatIdon’tknowwhereheisandthatIknowofnowayoffindingout?Iagreehemightbemosthelpful—andperhapstheonlyscientistintheworldwhocouldaidme.ButifIdon’tknowwhereheishowcanIgetathim?”

Thisargumentconvincedmeand,Imustconfess,saddenedmequitealittle.For I had really set my heart on a voyage with John Dolittle, which was anexperience, I knew, like nothing else in life.But tomy great joy another allycametotheaidofChee-Cheeandmyself.

“Doctor,” said Polynesia suddenly and severely, “you know you are justtrying to foolus.Doyoumean tosay thatwithyourknowledgeof theanimal

worldyoucouldn’tfindoutwherethatmanis—withallthebirdsandthebeastsandthefishesofthesevenseasmorethananxioustoassistyouinanythingyouwant?—Tut,tut!”

TheDoctorforamomentlookedalmostguilty.AndIsuddenlyrealizedthathehad takenadvantageof theoutcomeofourgameofBlindTravel toputoffanyvoyageforthepresent,deliberately,becausehefeltheoughttosticktohisworkathome.

“Oh, well, Polynesia,” he said finally in some little confusion, “youmustadmitIhavefulfilledmypromise.Wehaveobeyedtherulesof thegame.Thelandwehitonwasanimpossibledestination.Irepeat:ifyoucanshowmeawaytogettotheMoon,I’lltakeyouthere.”

Theshrewdoldparrot,whohadafterallgivenJohnDolittlehisfirstlessonsinanimallanguage,wasnoteasilyfooled.Sheputherheadononeside,droppedthepieceoftoastshehadbeenchewingandregardedhimwithaveryknowingexpression.

“Youhaven’tansweredmyquestion,Doctor,”saidshe.“Doyou,ordoyounot,believeitisimpossibleforyoutofindoutwhereLongArrownowis?”

“Well,”saidJohnDolittle,“yourememberwhatadickensofajobwehadinfindinghimlasttimewesetouttohunthim?”

“Yes,”saidPolynesia,“butthatwasbecausehehadgottrappedinthecaveby the falling rocks. Ifhe is freenow, asheprobably is, itwouldbenogreatmatter—foryou.”

For a moment the Doctor squirmed in his chair. Polynesia was the bestarguerIhaveeverknown.

“Butdon’tyousee,”hesaidatlastspreadingouthishandsinfrontofhim,“Ihavesuchatremendouslotofworkherestillunfinished.Itoldyouthislegendthemoths spokeof, abouta raceofgiant flies—mothsasbigasahouse,whocouldliftatonweightasthoughitwereanounce.Thatissomethingthatmustbelookedinto.Goodnessonlyknowswhatitmightleadto.”

“Andgoodness only knowswhat your going abroadmight lead to either,”saidPolynesia. “But the truth is, I suppose, you just don’twant to go.You’retiredofjustordinaryexplorationandvoyaging.TheMoonistheonlythingthatwouldsatisfyyou—likeababy.”

A little silence fell on the assembly. Dab-Dab had not yet begun to clearaway.Everybodyseemedtobethinkinghard.

And then there came themostmysterious tapping on thewindow, an odd,heavy,muffledsortoftapping.

“Boo!”gruntedGub-Gub,“Spookish!”andhecrawledunderthetable.“I’mnotgoing topullback thecurtains,”saidBumpo—“not fora fortune.

Yougo,Tommy.”Iwas after all the nearest to thatwindow. I guessed it was Cheapside, as

usual, asking to come in.But I should have known.No sparrow evermade anoiselikethat.Iswungasidethecurtainsandgazedoutintothemoonlitgarden.ThenIclappedmyhandtomymouthtostoptheyellofsurprisethatrosetomylips.

3.THEGIANTRACE

IshallneverforgetthefeelingIhadasmyeyesmadeoutthestrangepicturethereonthelawnbeneaththeeerielightoftheMoon.Itwasn’tsomuchthatIwas frightenedbut that Iwas astonished, overwhelmed—sooverwhelmed thatforsomemomentsafterIhadstifledmyfirstimpulsetoyell,Icouldnotspeakatall.PresentlyI lookedbackattheDoctorandopenedmymouth,butnowordscame.

“Whatisit,Stubbins?”saidhe,risingandjoiningmeatthewindow.Usedas JohnDolittlewas to strange sights andunusual things, this vision

outsidetheglassforamomentstaggeredevenhim.Therewasafacelookinginatus.Tobeginwithittookonequiteawhiletorealizethatitwasaface.Itwasso large that you did not take it in or see the connexion, at first, between thevarious features. In fact the entirewindow, at least six feet high by three feetwide,onlyencompassedpartofit.Buttherewasnomistakingtheeyes—strangeandverybeautifuleyes.Anyonebutthosewho,liketheDoctorandmyself,wereintimatelyfamiliarwiththeanatomyofinsects,wouldquitepossiblyhavetakenthemforsomethingelse.Buttous,inspiteoftheirpositivelygiganticsize,theywereunmistakablytheeyesofamoth.

Setclosetogether,bulgingoutward,shimmeringlikevastiridescentopalsinthepalecandlelightfromtheroom,theymadeusfeelasthoughweweregazingthroughapowerfulmagnifying-glassatanordinarymoth’shead.

“Heavenpreserveus!”IheardtheDoctormutteratmyelbow.“ItmustbetheGiantRace.Snuffthecandlesout,Stubbins.Thenwe’llbeabletoseetherestofhimbetter.”

WithtremblinghandsIdidasIwastold—thenspedbacktothewindowandthefascinationofthisastonishingapparition.Andnow,whenthecandlelightdidnotinterferewiththeMoon’sraysinthegarden,itwaspossibletoseemore.Themothpositivelyseemedtofillthewholegarden.

His shouldersbehind thehead,whichwaspressedclose against thepanes,

towereduptoaheightofatleasttwostoreys.Theenormouswingswerefoldedclosetothethickfurrybody,givingtheappearanceofthegable-endofahouse—andquiteaslarge.Theenormousfootwhichhadsoftlystruckthewindowstillrestedonthesill.Thegreatcreaturewasquitemotionless.AndevenbeforetheDoctor spoke of it, I got the impression that hewas injured in someway.Ofcourse,theexcitementamongthoseintheroomwasterrific.Everyone,withtheexceptionofGub-GubandBumpo,rushed to thewindowandageneralclatterbrokeforthwhich theDoctoratoncehushed.PoorBumposeemedtofeel thatwhatever strange sight it was that lay outside in the gardenmust surely havebeenconjuredupbythesameevilspiritsthatguidedhishandovertheatlas;andnothing would induce him to go and take a look at it. As for Gub-Gub, hepreferredthesafetyofhisretreatbeneaththetabletoanymoonlightencounterswiththesupernatural.

“Come,Stubbins,”said theDoctor,“get some lanternsandwewillgoout.Chee-Chee,bringmemylittleblackbag,willyou,please?”

Followed by Jip, Polynesia and Too-Too, the Doctor hurried out into thebackgarden.YoumaybesureIwasnotfarbehindthemwiththelanterns—norwasChee-Cheewiththebag.

Thatwholenightwasonelongprocessionofsurprises.AssoonasIgotoutinto the garden I became conscious of something funny happening to mybreathing.Theairseemedunusual.AsIpaused,sniffingandhalfgasping,Chee-Cheeovertookme.Hetooseemedtobeaffected.

“Whatisit,Tommy?”heasked.“Feelslikesniffingasmelling-bottle—sortoftakesyourbreathaway.”

Icouldgivehimnoexplanation.ButonreachingtheDoctorwefoundthathealsowassufferingfromsomeinconvenienceinbreathing.

“Givemeoneofthoselanterns,Stubbins,”saidhe.“IfthismothisinjuredIwanttoseewhatIcandotohelphim.”

Itwasacuriousfantasticsight.TheDoctor’sfigurelookedsoabsurdlysmallbeside thegigantic formofhis “patient.”Also itwasveryhard to seeat suchclosequartersandbysuchasmalllightwherethepatientleftoffandwherethegardenbegan.Oneenormousthing,whichIhadatfirstthoughttobeatreehehadknockeddowninlanding,turnedouttobehismiddleleftleg.Itwashairyandthehairsonitwereasthickastwigs.

“Whatdoyoureckonisthematterwithhim,Doctor?”Iasked.“Ican’t just tellyet,” said JohnDolittle,bending,andpeeringaroundwith

hislantern.“HislegsseemtobeallrightandIshouldjudgethathiswingsaretoo.OfcourseIcouldn’tgetuptoexaminethemwithoutagoodbigladder.Buttheir position seems natural enough. It would almost appear as though

exhaustionwerethetrouble.Fromthegeneralcollapsedconditionofthewholemothhelookstomeasthoughhewerejustdeadbeatfromalongjourney.”

“Whatisthisbusinessthatkeepscatchingourthroats,Doctor?”askedChee-Chee.

“The air is surcharged with oxygen,” said the Doctor. “Though what thesourceofitisIhaven’tyetdiscovered.Possiblythecreature’sfur,ormaybehiswingpowder.Itisquiteharmless,Ithink,ifabitheadyandexhilarating.Bringalongthatsecondlantern,Stubbins,andlet’stakeanotherlookathishead.HowonearthhemanagedtolanddownonalawnthissizewithoutrippinghimselfonthetreesIhavenoidea.Hemustbeaveryskilfulflierinspiteofhisgreatsize.”

With the aid of the two lights we carefully made our way towards thecreature’shead,whichwasalmosttouchingthesideofthehouse.Wehadtopullbushesandshrubsasidetogetupclose.

Here we found the peculiar quality of the air on which we had alreadyremarkedmorepronouncedthanever.Itwassostrongthatitoccasionallymadetheheadreelwithmomentaryfitsofdizzinessbutwasnototherwiseunpleasant.Lying on the ground beneath themoth’s nosewere several enormous orange-colouredflowers.AndtheDoctorfinallydetectedtheoxygen,ashecalledit,ascomingfromthese.Wewerebothnearlybowledoveraswestoopedtoexaminethem.TheDoctor,biddingmealsoretireforawhile,withdrewinto thehouse,where from the surgeryheproducedcloths soaked in somechemical liquid tocounteract the effect of the potent perfumed gas from the flowers.With thesetiedaboutournosesandmouthswereturnedtoourinvestigations.

“Idon’tthinkit’spureoxygen,”saidtheDoctorasheexaminedoneoftheenormousblossoms.“IfitwereIdon’timaginewecouldstanditevenaswellasthis. It is a powerful natural scent given out by the flowers which is heavilychargedwithoxygen.Didyoueverseesuchgiganticblooms?Fiveofthem.Hemusthavebroughtthemwithhim.Butfromwhere?—Andwhy?”

“'Idon'tthinkit'spureoxygen,'saidtheDoctor”Bendingdown,theDoctorplacedoneoftheflowersunderthemoth’snose.“Hecouldn’thavebroughtthemfornothing,”saidhe.“Let’sseewhateffect

theirperfumehasonhim.”

4.THEAWAKENINGOFTHEGIANT

AtfirstitappearedasthoughtheDoctor’sexperimentwasgoingtohavenoresult.Thehugeheadof themoth restedon thegroundalmostas ifdead.Butknowinghowlongevenourownkindsofmothscouldstaymotionless,wedidnotyethaveanyfearsonthatscore.

“It’sthepositionthat’scurious,”mutteredtheDoctor,stillholdingthehugebellofthefloweroverthemoth’snose.“Theheadisthrustforwardinquiteanunnatural pose. That’s what makes me feel he may have actually lostconsciousness from exhaustion—Oh, but see, wasn’t that a tremor in the

antennaae?”

“'Wasn'tthatatremorintheantennae?'”Ilookedupatthefeatherypalm-likewandsthatrearedupwardfromthehead

(theyremindedyouofsomefantasticdecorationsintheturbanofarajah),and,yes—therewasnodoubtofit—theendsweretremblingslightly.

“He’s coming to, Doctor,” I whispered. “Hadn’t you better stand furtherawayincasehestrugglestogetup?Tobesteppedonbyoneofhisfeetwouldbenojoke.”

TheDoctor’sutterfearlessnessinthepresenceofthisunbelievablemonsterwasquitetypical.Theanimalkingdomhadnoterrorsforhim.Andamoththesizeofalargebuildingdisturbedhimnomoresofarashispersonalsafetywasconcernedthananewbornlamb.Andthatstrangetrustwasalwayssharedbytheanimalsthemselves.IhaveneverseenanycreaturethatwasafraidoftheDoctorordisposedtofighthim.Itwasthisperhaps,aboveallthings,thatsethimapartamongmankindandmadehimthenaturalisthewas.Everylivingthingappearedtohaveconfidenceinhimfromthemomentitseteyesonhim.

And so it seemed to be with this great insect that looked as though it

belongedtosomeotherworldthanours.Youcouldnotsayitopeneditseyes—becauseamoth’seyes,havingnolids,arealwaysopen.Butpresentlywhenbyvariouslittlesigns,liketheincreasedtremblingoftheantennaae,smallshiftingsofthelegs,aslightraisingofthehead,etc.,itshowedusthatitwasreallyaliveandconscious, itseemedquiteunalarmed.Inoticedthoseenormouseyes,nowglowingwith newer,more conscious, light, turn and take in the figure of theDoctorbusyinghimselfwithvariouslittlejobsforthecomfortofhispatient.TheGiantMothmadenostruggletogetup.Onthecontrary,hegaveasortofdeepsighwhichindicatedhewasalmostpleasedonwakingtofindtheDoctorfussingroundhim.AsIlookedatthem,JohnDolittleandhisgiganticpatient,Ibegantowonder what would have taken place if this creature had fallen into anothergardenandintootherhands.Fear,onaccountofhisgreatsize,superstitionandignorance,wouldmostlikelyhavebroughtaboutsomeviolentattackuponhimand his unnatural death. I thought of Bumpo and his dread of the Unknown,gentleenoughthoughheusuallywas.IthoughtofChee-Chee’sprehistoricartist,OthoBludge.Would not his first impulse have been to destroy this enormouscreatureassoonasitappeared—tobethefirstinattack,lestitdestroyhim?

Butwith theDoctor, no.Size, foreign characteristics andqualities, didnotincurfearordistrust.Onthecontrary,anythingnewattractedhim,always,ratherthan scared him.Andby beingwith him I, in a lessermeasure, had grown tosharesomethingofthisconfidence—evenifIhadnotyetlearnedtoimpressthesamefeelingoftrustoncreaturesImetwith.

I was sharply reminded of what the Doctor had said about intuitiveknowledgealsoasIwatchedthesetwo.Themothofcoursecouldnotspeakonewordof theDoctor’s languagenor theDoctor, so far,asyllableof themoth’s.Andyet,without language, they seemed tobeconveyingcertain things tooneanotherwithfairease.Forexample,theDoctorevidentlywishedtoclimbupandexaminethemoth’swingmuscles,whichheexpectedhadbeenoverstrainedinthe long flight. Somehow, goodness only knows bywhatmeans, he conveyedthisideatothepatient.Anywayitsuddenlycontracteditschestandletitsfrontpairoflegsspreadapart,sothatthesummitofitsshoulderswasloweredagoodtenfeet.Thenverycarefully,lesthehurtthemoth’sskin,theDoctorclamberedupinthedeepfurthatcoveredthemiddletrunk(Ithinkhecalleditthethorax)untilhestoodwheretheenormouswingswerejoinedtothebody.

UptherewherenoraysfromthelampcouldreachhimhewasquiteinvisibletoChee-Cheeandme.Butpresentlyhecalleddowntometoopenhislittleblackbagandthrowhimupabottleofliniment.

5.KEEPINGASECRET

Of course on an exciting occasion of this kind the Doctor, who alwaysseemed to be able to dowithout sleep if necessary, outstayed all of us in thegarden.Polynesiawasdeeplyinterestedalso,butbythreeo’clockinthemorningshe retired to thehouseand tookanapon topof thegrandfatherclockon thestair-landing. Chee-Chee finally fell asleep under the bushes. I, by pinchingmyselfatfive-minuteintervals,managedtocarryontilldawnshowedovertheroof-ridgeofthehouse.Too-Tooofcoursecouldalwaysapparentlystayawakewithmorecomfortduringnighthoursthanindaylight.HeandtheDoctorwere,Ithink,thelastleftondeck.HetoldmenextdaythatJohnDolittlehadnotgonetobedbefore6a.m.

Staggering around the gardenwith one eye open and the other shut, I hadmanagedtoactthepartoftheDoctor’sassistantalmostaslongasthat.WhenIwokeup(abouttwoo’clockthefollowingafternoon)Ifoundmyselfonthehallsetteewiththecarpetdrawnovermeforbed-clothes.Ilearned,whenIwenttothe kitchen and found Dab-Dab frying eggs, that John Dolittle had made theGiantMoth comfortable in the garden andwas planning to see him early thefollowingday.

Luckily the night had beenmild. I took the cup of tea and piece of toastwhich Dab-Dab offered me and went out into the garden. Here of course IdiscoveredtheDoctor,whoafteracoupleofhours’napsomewherebetweensixandnineinthemorning,wascontinuinghisstudyofthestrangevisitor.Hehadevidently been trying out various foods, because great quantities of differentedibleslayaboutthelawn.WhatstrangeinstincthadguidedtheDoctorfinallytohoneyIdonotknow,forcertainlythisgiantspecimendidnotlooklikeanyofthe honey-sucking moths with which we were familiar. But certainly JohnDolittle had hit upon a food agreeable to the creature even if it was not hisnaturalone.WhenIcameuptothemhewasjustsettingtoonanewcombwhiletheemptyframesofsixotherslayaroundhimonthegrass.

“ItookthecupofteaandpieceoftoastthatDab-Dabofferedme”

TheDoctor hadmanaged by this to get themoth tomove back somewhatfrom thehouse.Henowstood,or sat, comfortably,on the lawn;andwhileheoccupiedmostoftheturf,wecouldapproachhimfromallsidesandgetamuchbetterideaofwhathelookedlike.

Incolourhewasalightbrowninthebodywithverygorgeouswingsofredandblue.Hislegsweregreen,therestofhimblack.Inshapehewasofthetypethatkeepsthewingscloselyfoldedtothebodywhenatrest,though,tobesure,hisgenerallinesandappearancewereonlyvaguelysuggestiveofanyspeciesweknewamongearthlymoths.

“I moved him over here,” said the Doctor, “so that there should be lesschanceofanyoneseeinghimfromthefrontgarden.”

“But how did you manage to make him understand you wished him tomove?”Isaid.“Canyouspeakhislanguagealready?”

“Oh,no—notaword,”hesaid.“But—well—IsupposeIreallydon’tknowjust how I did it. I moved over there and beckoned to him and put the food

down. And—well—anyhow he seemed most well disposed towards me andanxioustoco-operateinanyway.”

Ilaughed.“That, Doctor,” I said, “is the thing that hasmade you succeed in animal

languages where so many naturalists have failed. I’m not so sure that LongArrowwasmuchbetterthanyouwhenitcomestodoingthingsbyinstinctratherthanbyscience.Butwhyareyousoafraidthepeoplewillseethemoth?”

“Why,Stubbins,”saidhe—“mostimportant.Ifthetownsfolkgetwindofthisextraordinary creature being here we would be besieged, just besieged, byvisitors.Hedoesn’tlikestrangers.OfthatI’msure-naturallytimid,youknow,inspiteofhissize.—No,whateverhappenshispresenceheremustbekeptsecret.And by the way, ifMatthew should call—and you know he usually drops inalmost every night after supper—don’t let him come into the back garden,whateveryoudo.WewillhavetobindBumpoandtheanimalstosecrecyinthis.BecausewhileGub-GubandJipcan’ttalkwithMatthew,theymighteasilygivethe moth’s presence away. And the one thingMatthew can’t do is to keep asecret.”

Andsothatafternoonwecalledthehouseholdtogetherandsworethemallinto absolute secrecy. More than that, the Doctor was so afraid that some onemightdiscoverthemoth’spresenceandspreadthenewsabroad,heinstitutedasystemofsentries.Bumpo,JipandItookitinturnstomountguardatthefrontgatetomakesurethatnoonestrayedinbyaccident.Wediddutyinthree-hourshifts,nightandday.Tomakeextrasure,Too-TooandPolynesia,whowerebothgood hands at keeping awake, watched alternately from the ridge of the roofwheretheycouldseeanyoneapproachfromanydirection.

“Too-TooandPolynesiawatchedfromtheridgeoftheroof”

And it was a good thing that we did take those precautions. I had neverrealizedbeforehowmanypeopleordinarilycametoourquietestablishmentinthe course of a day. Tradesmen’s boys delivering groceries; animal patientscallingatthesurgery;peopledroppingintoasktheway;themanfromtheWaterCompanytolookatthemeter;pedlarswhowishedtosellthings,etc.,etc.

ButwithoursystemofsentriesnooneevergotaglimpseofthegiantmothnorasuspicionthathewashiddenintheDoctor’sgarden.

“Haveyouanyidea,Doctor,”Iaskedoneevening,“wherethiscreaturehascomefrom?”

“AsyetIhavenot,”saidhe.“Ihavebeentryingtofindthatout,asyoucaneasily imagine, ever sincehe arrived. I have examinedhis feetmost carefully,hopingthatthatmightgivemeaclue.Butsofarithasledtonothing.Ievenputsome particles of dust I found under a microscope. But I am sure, from myexamination,thattheywerepickedupafterhisarrivalhereinthegarden—whilelanding,nodoubt.WhatIhopetodonowistogetintocommunicationwithhim

throughsomeformofvibration-record, justaswedidwith theordinarymothsandflies.Butofcourseitisn’tgoingtobeeasywithacreatureofthissize.Wewill have to devise special apparatus to fit the job. I fear itmay take a lot ofwork.Butitdoesn’tmatter.IfeelIamontheeveofdiscoveringbigthings.Iamquitecontenttospendalongtimeonthis.Itisworthit.”

6.THEBUTTERFLIES’PARADISE

Andthuswesettleddown,withoursentriestokeeptheworldout,totryandgetintouchwiththisstrangecreaturewhohadvisitedusfrompartsunknown.

Tobeginwith,ofcourse,theDoctor,withhisextraordinaryknowledgeofthemoths and butterflies of almost every part of the civilizedworld,was able toeliminateagreatdealofterritoryasanimpossiblesourceforthemothtocomefrom.Hehadonetheorywhichhefollowedforquiteatimeandthatwasthatithadcomefromwhat iscalled theSubarcticRegions.Very littlewasknownsofar,hetoldme,aboutinsectlifeinthoseparts.

Thenhegot another idea, very far removed from the first.Hehadnoticedthat theGiantMothwasverycoldatnight.JohnDolittlewasquiteupsetoverthis.Hemadeallsortsofarrangementsaboutwarmingthegarden.HeworriedDab-Dabtodeathbybuyingoilstovesbythedozentosetaroundthegardenandsupplementedthesebyhot-waterbottlesactuallyinhundreds.Wehadthemostterrible timegetting theminsecretly,becauseofcourse thedealers insistedondeliveringthembywagon.Butwehadtobejustinsistentandbringthemuptothe house ourselves. They of course wanted to knowwhat on earth we weregoingtodowithsomanyhot-waterbottles.Asmalltownisadifficultplacetokeepasecretin.

ThentheDoctor,followinguptheideathatthemothmighthavecomefromthetropics,startedtoquestionChee-Chee.Heaskedhimifhehadeverheardhisgrandmotherspeakofgiantinsectsatanytime.

PoorChee-Cheethoughtveryhardforquiteawhile.Hecouldnotseemtoremember any occasion on which his grandmother had referred to suchcreatures.Butpresentlyhesaid:

“Oh,waitnow—yes,Iremember,therewassomething.”“Good!”saidtheDoctor.“Whatwasit?”And all the animals, hoping for another of Chee-Chee’s stories of the

AncientWorld,gatheredabouthimtolistenwithattention.“Well,” said he, “there is no record that I know of, of any such insects

belongingtothetropics—Imeanespeciallytothoseparts—eitherinpasttimesor nowadays. But I do remember my grandmother saying that in those daysbeforetherewasaMoontheworldhadnoendofperfectlyenormouscreaturesrunning about it and that Man had a terribly hard time to survive. This wasparticularlysoatcertaintimeswhenvariousspecieslikethedinosaursandsomeof themoredangerousanimalsmultiplied insuchquantities that theycrowdedeverything else out of certain sections. It wasn’t only by chasing Man anddestroyinghim that theyhadmade lifehard forhim.But for instance,whenaswarmof thesegiant lizardsdescendedona farmwherehehadbeengrowingcornandraisingafewgoats,theywouldeatupthewholecrop,rootsandall,inafewminutes,orclearoffallthenaturalturfdowntothebaregroundsothattherewasnothingleftforthegoatstofeedon.”

“Aswarmofgiantlizardsdescended”“Yes,yes,”saidtheDoctor,“buttheinsects,Chee-Chee.Doyourecallyour

grandmotherspeakingofanygiantmoths,beetlesorbutterflies?”“Yes, Iwas coming to that,” said themonkey. “She used to tell us of one

time—againinthedaysbeforetherewasaMoon—whenacertainvalleylayfor

aconsiderabletimeundisturbedbymostcreatures.Yousee,althoughtherewasoccasional crowding in someareas, theworld at that timehad lots and lotsofroom in it.And, as Iwas saying, in this quiet forgottenvalley a giant raceofbutterfliesissaidtohaveflourished.Ofcoursemygrandmotherneversawthem,theyweremillionsofyearsbeforehertime,andsheonlyhandedonthestorytousasshehadheardit.Butshesaiditwasstillbelievedthatthesebutterflieswiththeirwingsoutspreadwereahundredpacesacrossfromtiptotip.”

“Had your grandmother ever spoken of other giant insects, Chee-Chee,”askedtheDoctor—“ofmoths,forexample?”

“Oh,well,” said themonkey,“when I called thembutterflies Iwasmerelythinking of the general term in our language for all big flies of that sort. It isquitepossiblethattheinsectsshespokeofwerereallymoths.InfactIthinkitismorelikely,sincetheyappeartohavebeenexceedinglystrong;andmothswouldbestrongerthanbutterflies,wouldn’tthey?”

“Er—yes—generally speaking,” said theDoctor, “theywould.But howdoyouknowtheywerestrong?”

“Well,itseems,”saidChee-Chee,“thatwhenManfirstcameintothevalleyhe found it full of extraordinary flowers and vegetation of all kinds. The soilseemstohavebeenvery,veryrichthere.Ithadbeenalakeupinthehillsmanyyearsbefore, simply filledwith fish.Then suddenly, through an earthquakeorsomething,allthewaterdrainedawaythroughacrackinthemountainsandthefishofcoursediedinthemudthatwasleft.Thesmelloftherottingfishatfirstdroveeverylivingthingaway.Butitalsoseemstohavefertilizedthevalleyinaveryextraordinarymanner.Afterawhileofcourseseedsfromtheordinarywildflowers and weeds began blowing in across the mountains. They took root,sprouted,bloomedanddieddown.Thentheirseedwasblownaboutanddidthesamething.Butthenewseedwasverymuchbetterthantheold,fortheplantsfromwhich it camehadgrown strong in themost fertileground in theworld.Andsoitwenton,eachspringbringingforthfinerandlargerplantsuntil,theysay,manylittlewildflowersthatinotherpartswerenobiggerthanabutton,hadbecomeheregiganticblossomsgrowingonbushesashighasanelmtree.

“Andofcoursewherethereareflowers,butterfliesandmothsandbeesandbeetleswillalwayscome.Andthusintimethisdesertedvalley,onceadried-upseaofmud, stinkingof rotten fish,grew intoabutterflies’paradise. Itwas setdeepdowninacanyonwhosewallsweresheerandunscalable.Neithermannorbeastcametodisturbthisflower-filledplaygroundwherethebutterfliesandbeesledahappygorgeouslifeofsunshine,colourandpeace.”

Chee-Chee’sstoryof theButterflies’Paradise—asdidmostofhisyarnsoftheAncientWorld—gotusalldeeplyinterested.FromGub-GubtotheDoctor,

wewerealllisteningintentlyasthelittlemonkey,squattingtailor-fashiononthecornerof the table, retold the legendsofprehistoric timeswhichhis ancestorshadhandeddowntohim.

“Well,”hewenton,“asitwaswiththeflowersthatfedandgrewlargerontherichsoilofthevalley,soitwaswiththebutterfliesandbeeswhofedontheflowers.Theybecameenormous.Thehoney theygot fromtheblossomsmade—”

“Excuseme,”theDoctorinterrupted.—“Honey,didyousay?”“Yes,” said Chee-Chee, “that was the food they got from the flowers of

course.Soitwasbelievedthat itwasthehoney,peculiarlyrichinthatdistrict,whichmadethemsobig.”

“Humph!—Yes,yes.Pardonme.Goon,”saidtheDoctor.

“Apartyofbaboonswerethefirsttoenterit”“Butnaturallysooneror latersuchanextraordinaryvalley,filledwithsuch

extraordinarycreatures,wouldhavetobediscoveredanddisturbedbystrangers.Therewas a tradition among themonkeypeople,mygrandmother said, that apartyofbaboonswasthefirsttoenterit.Theyhowever,whentheyhadfinally

scaledtherockyheightssurroundingthecanyonandlookeddownintothevalleyfilledwithgaudy-colouredfliesasbigasships,weresoscaredthattheyboltedandneverwentbackthereagain.Butsomemenwhohadwatchedthebaboonsclimbing up andmade a note of how they reached the top, followed over thesame trail.Among this party therewasoneverybold spiritwhooften led theothersinattacksuponthelargeanimals.Whiletheothershungbackinhesitationhedescended thebreak-neckprecipices,determined to investigate those lovelygiants.Hereachedthebottomandthere,fromtheambushofanenormousleafbigenough tohidea regimentunder,he suddenly sprangouton tooneof thebutterfliesashecrawledoverthegroundinthesun.Thebiginsect,thoroughlyfrightened,tooktohiswingsatonce;andwiththewretchedmanclingingtohisshoulders, he soared away over the mountain-tops. Neither of themwas everseenagain.”

7.THEHOMEOFTHEGIANTMOTH

A general chatter of comment and criticism broke out around the kitchentableasChee-Cheebroughthisstorytoanend.

“It’sagoodyarn,Chee-Chee,”saidGub-Gub—“quitegood.ButIdon’tlikeitaswellastheoneaboutOthoBludge.”

“Why,Gub-Gub?”theDoctorasked.“Oh,well,”saidthepig,“Otho’sstorywasmoreromantic.Ihaveanatural

preferenceforromanticstories.IlikedthatpartaboutthebraceletofstonebeadswhichPippiteepaleftontherockbehindher—whichOthotookandworeonhisownwrist therestofhisdays.That’saveryromantic idea.It isdreadfullysadthathenevermetheranymore. IwishChee-Cheewould tellus thatoneoveragain.”

“Someothernightperhaps,”saidtheDoctor.“Itisgettinglatenowandweshouldbethinkingofbed.”

The Doctor was almost as interested in the great orange-coloured flowerswhichthemothhadbroughtwithhimashewasinthemothhimself.Tobeginwith,hehadalmostimmediatelyondiscoveringthemtakenthegreatestpainstopreservethegreatblooms.Hugequantitiesofice(whichwasquiteanexpensiveluxury in Puddleby) were procured from the fishmonger to keep the flowersfresh as long as possible. Meantime John Dolittle experimented with onespecimentofindoutwhatgasesitsperfumescontained,etc.

Theworkapparentlyprovedveryinterestingforhim.Hewasquitegoodat

analyticalchemistryandhe toldmethat theflowerspresentedproblemswhichhefelthadneverbeenencounteredbychemistsbefore.

When he was done with this he turned his attention again to the mothhimself,buttookprecautionsinthemeantimethattheremainingflowersshouldbegiventhebestofcareandmadetolastaslongaspossible.

Inhisstudyofthemothprogresswasslow.Ifithadnotbeenforthefactthatthegiant insect itselfwasmostkindlydisposed towardshis investigations anddid his best to help the Doctor in every way, I doubt if he would have gotanywhere.ButonedayIgatheredfromthefactthatJohnDolittlehadstayedouton that particular subject for nearly twenty-four hours at a stretch, and hadmissedhisnight’ssleepaltogether,thathewasmostlikelyachievingsomethingimportant.

Well, theoutcomeof theselongsessionsofstudyontheDoctor’spartwasthat one very earlymorning he rushed intomy room his eyes sparkling withexcitement.

“Oneveryearlymorningherushedintomyroom”“Stubbins,”hesaid,“it’stoogoodtobetrue.I’mnotcertainofanythingyet,

butIthink—Ithink,mindyou—thatI’vediscoveredwherethiscreaturecomesfrom.”

“Goodness!”Isaid.“That’snewsworthagooddeal.—Where?”“Iguessed,”hesaid,“thatitcouldn’tbeEurope.Themoreremotecornersof

the world, like the sub-arctic and the tropics, didn’t quite—well, they didn’texactlyfitineither.”

“Anyway,youknownow,”Isaid.“Tellmequick,I’mdyingtohear.”“I have every reason,” he said, looking sort of embarrassed lest I should

disbelievehim,“tosupposethathecomesfromtheMoon!”“Heavenpreserveus!”Igasped—“TheMoon?”“Ihavevery littledoubt,”heanswered.“Imanaged to rigupsomesortof

apparatus—after a goodmany trials and a goodmany failures—which shouldconveyhisvibrations.IfithadnotbeenthathewasjustasanxiousasItogetincontact I could never have done it. He came as a messenger, it seems. Youremember Polynesia has told you, I know, of the time when the monkeys inAfricasentwordtomebyaswallowthattheyweresufferingfromanepidemic—thattheyhadheardofmeandwantedmetocometotherescue?”

“Yes,”Isaid,“Polynesiahastoldmemanytimes.”“Well,”saidhe,“thisissomethingofthesamekind.Itseemsunbelievable.

AndeveryonceinawhileIwakeup,asitwere,andpinchmyselfforfearIamtryingtobelieveinsomeextraordinaryanddelightfuldream—somethingthatIhaveconjuredupmyselfbecauseIwanteditsotobetrue.AndyetIthinkIhaverealreasontobelieveit.Ifso,thisisbyfarthegreatestmomentofmycareer.Tobe called toAfrica by themonkeys on the strength ofmy reputation, to curetheminthehouroftheirdistress,thatwasagreatcompliment.ToletlooseLongArrow,theIndiannaturalist,fromhisprisoninthecave,thatwasamomentwellworthlivingfor.Buttobesummonedtoanotherworldbycreaturesthathumaneyeshaveneverseenbefore,that,Stubbins,is—”

He waved his hand without further words. His voice sounded strangelychokey.ItwasnotoftenthatIhadseenJohnDolittleovercomebyemotion.

8.FLOWERSOFMYSTERY

Anyone can very readily imagine into what a condition of extraordinaryexcitementthisstatementoftheDoctor’swouldbelikelytoputme.Allsortsofvisionsandpossibilitiespassedbeforemymind.Butsoanxiouswashethatnofalse alarm should be spread abroad till he was certain of his facts, that he

strictlyforbademetowhisperawordofthemattertoanyonebeforehegavemepermission. He said nothing annoyed him so much as the half-bakedannouncementsofscientistspromisingallsortsofwondersthatnevercometrue.AnditmustbesaidforJohnDolittlehimselfthatheneverpublishedawordthathewasnotpreparedtostandbyandprove.Butthenheveryseldom“talkedforthenewspapers,”asitiscalled,anyway.

Before many days had passed we decided that the flowers the moth hadbrought with him were almost as complicated a mystery as the great insecthimself. The Doctor was, as I have said, in constant anxiety lest they shouldwither. Itwasnot tobehopedof course that theywould lastmore thana fewdays. His progress with the moth’s “language” continued to be tantalizinglyslow;andeverymorninghewouldgotothelittlespecialgreenhousewherehekept theblossoms,expecting to findhis treasureshadwiltedandpassedaway.Butmorning aftermorning they seemed as fresh as ever; and he was greatlypuzzled.Theiceandsprayingandothercarewegavethemcouldnotaccountforsuchextraordinaryendurance.

TheDoctorwasprettygoodatbotany,ashewas inallbranchesofnaturalhistory.He found on careful examination that the flowers had certain bulbousknobsjustwherethestemjoinedthebelloftheblossomitself.Thesehetoldmewere something quite different from the anatomy of any flower known to theEarth’s vegetable kingdom. Of course he had long since supposed that if themothcamefromtheMoon,hebroughttheflowersalsofromthatworld.Hewassurethattheseknobsorglands,ashecalledthem,accountedfortheflowerbeingable toendure so long ina stateofperfect freshnessafter ithadbeenpluckedfromitsplant.Hewonderedifallmoonflowershadthesamequality.

Butwhatmystifiedusagreatdealmorewasthattheflowerapparentlyhadthepoweractually tomove itself—notonly tochange itsposition from that inwhich it had been laid down, but also, we finally proved, to shift itself fromplacetoplace.

Theway theDoctordiscovered thatpeculiarqualityof theMoonBells, aswe called the flowers, was this: he was in the habit of bringing one of theblossoms twice a day to themoth to smell.He had discovered that the insectderivedgreatbenefitfromthisdailytonic.HetoldmehewassurethattheMoonmothfoundourearthlyatmosphereentirelytoosluggishandlackinginoxygen.Ifwelefthimformorethanabouttwelvehourswithoutasniffhegotsleepierandsleepierandwouldfinallyalmostcollapse.

Atnight-time,afterthemothhadhadhisfinalsniff,theDoctoralwaystookthebloomsbacktothespecialice-cooledconservatorytobestoredtillthenextday.Ofthefiveblooms,heusedeachoneconscientiouslyinturn—thinkingthus

to economize the precious perfume. But that, by the way, proved to beunnecessary.Fortheflowerswereasgoodatonicattheendoftheweekastheywere when we first discovered them. This treatment, with vast quantities ofhoneyforfood(whichweactuallysuppliedtotheinsectinbarrow-loads),waspracticallytheonlytreatmentwhichwegaveourstrangevisitor.

Well,asIsaid,theDoctorwouldwiththegreatestcaretaketheflowersbacktothegreenhouseandlaythemdownonathickbedofasparagusfern.Butthefollowing morning, as regular as clockwork, he would find the flowers indifferentpositions.

Inthebeginning,hehadnotlaidanyimportancetothis.Butoneeveninghehadputabloomdownalmosttouchingthedooroftheconservatorybecausetheothers were occupying almost the entire space of the small house with theirenormousbulk.Whenhecameinthemorning,expectingtofindtheflowerhehadusedthenightbeforecloseagainstthedoor,hewasastonishedtoseethatitandalltheblossomshadrolledawaytowardthefarend,andthatlastnight’sonehadswungrightaroundsothatthesteminsteadofthebellwasfacingthedoor.

Atfirsthethoughtsomeonemusthavebeeninduringthenightandshiftedtheflowers.But thesamethingoccurredthefollowingday.Asusualhedidn’tspeakofittometillhewassureofhisfacts.Wesatuponenightandwatchedwithalantern,andbothofusdistinctlysawtheflowernearestthedoorrolloverandchangeitsposition.

Atfirst,formypart,Iwasn’tsatisfied.“Why,Doctor,”Isaid,“thatcouldhavebeenanaccident.Thewaytheflower

waslaidontheunevenbedofferncouldaccountforitsrollingashortdistancelikethat!”

“Allright,”saidhe,“wewillwatchagaintomorrownight.Iamconvinced—andIthinkIcanprovetoyou—thattheflowersdonotlikethedraughtfromthedoor.Theymoveawayfromitoftheirownaccord,byrolling.”

So the next nightwe repeated ourwatch.And this time Iwas completelyconvinced.Weputtwoflowerscloseagainstthedoor.Afteraboutanhouroneofthemdeliberatelybegantorollawaytowardstheotherendoftheconservatory,A little later the other followed, both crowding in on the remainder of thespecimens, huddling like sheep that wished to escape a storm. I could hardlybelievemyeyes.Therewasnoquestionofaccidenthere.

OnourwaybacktothehousetheDoctorsaid:“Youknow,Stubbins,Ifeelweareherepresentedwithanalmostentirelynewproblem.Thereareflowersinourownvegetablekingdomwhichcatch fliesandcloseupatnightand thingslike that. But one that can move itself after it is cut off from its plant issomething quite new. You know, Stubbins—er—of course—” (The Doctor

hesitatedamomentinoneofhismoodsofhalfembarrassmentwhichhadbeenprettycommonof late.) “Er—thiswhole thing is sonewandperplexing—but,well,I’vehadanotionforsomedaysnowthatthoseflowerscancommunicatewithoneanother.”

“Youmeanthattheycantalk!”Icried.“Justthat,”saidhe.“Thewaythattheyarrangethemselveswhentheycrowd

uptogetheratthefarendoftheconservatory—and—andIhaveeventhoughtIcoulddetectsomeexchangeofconversation.Butofcourse,asIsaid,itisallsonew.Imaybewrong.”

“Goodness!”Isaid.“That’sanewidea,withavengeance,isn’tit?”“Itis,”saidhe.“ButintheMoon?—Itmaybetheoldestideathereis—that

flowerscantalk.CertainlyyouandIhaveevidencealreadythattheycanthink—andmove.”

9.SMOKEONTHEMOON

ThenightfollowingthatonwhichwehadfinallydeterminedthattheMoonBellscouldmoveoftheirownaccordIcameintotheDoctor’sstudyaboutnineo’clock.AtfirstIthoughttherewasnooneintheroomandwasabouttogoouttothekitchen.ButpresentlyIheardPolynesiawhisper:

“Isthatyou,Tommy?”And then Imade outChee-Chee’s form also squatting on the floor by the

window.ImustconfessthatbythistimeIwasgettingsortofpreparedforanything.I

had even told my parents that I might leave any day on a voyage for partsunknown.TheDoctorhadbecomeso—sosecretive.Tryashardas Imight tokeeptrackofwhatwasgoingon,IstillhadanuncomfortablefeelingthatJohnDolittlewasmakingdiscoveries andplanswhichhewas telling tonoone—atleastnottome.Thatfeelinghaddisturbedmeagreatdeal.

“Yes,Polynesia,”saidI.“ThisisTommy.What’sgoingonhere?”“Oh,”saidshe,andIknewatoncefromthetoneofhervoicethatshewason

her guard, “the Doctor is just taking a few observations through his newtelescope.”

IrealizedrightawaythattheDoctorwasdoingnothingofthatkind.Hewaslookingthroughhisnewtelescope,itwastrue—aninstrumentwhichithadcosthim justmints ofmoney to buy.He had even kept its purchase a secret fromDab-Dabwhoalwaysscoldedhimwheneverhelaidoutlargesumsonscientific

instruments.ButIsawatoncethathewasn’ttakingobservations.

“Hewaslookingthroughhisnewtelescope”“Whatareyoudoing,Doctor?”Iasked,cominguptowherehehandledthe

telescopeinthedark.“Oh, well, Stubbins,” said he, “I’m—er—I’m trying to see if they’re

signalling.”“Whatdoyoumean—they?—signalling?”Iasked.“Well, you see,” said he, “I thought that if they sent down thismothwith

some sort of a message to me—which I really believe they did—that maybethey,thosefolkintheMoon—Ihavenoideayetwhatsortofcreaturestheyareofcourse—wouldpossiblygiveoutsomesortofsignaltogetintouchwithhimandseehowhisexpeditionwasgettingon….There!Didyouseethat?I’llswearIsawapuff—asortofpuffofsmokecomingoutfromtheMoon’sleftside.Youlookin,Stubbins.MaybeI’mdreamingagain!”

Ilookedintothetelescope.ButImustconfessIcouldseelittlebeyondtheordinary map of the Moon. This I was already somewhat familiar with. TheDoctorhadseveralpamphletsissuedbyvariousastronomicalobservatoriesthat

gave details and maps of that side of theMoon which was the only one weearthlypeoplehadeverseen.HeandIhadduringthelastfewdaysstudiedthesewithagooddealofinterestandattention.TheDoctorhimselfwasveryfamiliar,Iknew,witheverythingthathadbeenlearnedandpublishedonMoongeographyup to that time.He seemed disappointedwhen I told him I could see nothingunusualintheMoon’sappearanceto-night.

“Strange—verystrange!”hemuttered.“IcouldhaveswornIsawsomething—likeacloud,suddenlyappearingandthenfadingawaylikesmoke,ontheleftside.—Butthere!This isallnew.Somuchof it isguessworkasyet.AndI’malwaysafraidthatI’mbeingcarriedawaybymyownideasandhopes.”

Imustconfess that formypart I felthehadon thisoccasionbeenmisled,untilIhappenedtomeetToo-Toolaterintheevening,comingoffdutyfromhispostontopoftheroof.HeandPolynesiastilltookitinturnsreligiouslytowatchfor intruders visiting the Doctor’s premises who might hear of the moth’spresence in his garden and carry the news abroadbefore theDoctorwished itknown.

Thelittleowlwhisperedthathewouldliketoseemealoneaminute.Itookhimontomyshoulderandproceededupstairstomyroom.There,withhisusualaccurate behaviour in the complete darkness, he found the matches for me,carriedthemtothecandleandrattledthemtillIfoundmywaytohim.

“Shutthedoor,Tommy,”saidhemysteriouslyassoonasIhadstruckalight,“andtakealookoutsidetomakesurenoonehasfollowedus.”

ThisIdid.“Well,” said I, coming back towhere he stood blinking beside the lighted

candle,“whatisit,Too-Too?Hasanyoneheardaboutthemothbeinghere?”“No,”saidhe.“So far, I think Icansaywithabsolutecertainty themoth’s

presence here is a secret. Though I have serious fears about that gossipGub-Gub.Ifhetellsanyotherpigs,youcanbesurewe’llhavealltheporkersintheneighbourhoodnosingroundtoseewhat’sgoingon.ButasyetIfancyhehasn’thadachance.That’snotthepoint.WhatIwantedtoseeyouaboutwasthis:DidyouhappentolookattheMoonatallthisevening?”

“Yes,”Isaid,“IlookedatitthroughtheDoctor’snewtelescope.Why?”“Didyouseeanything—er—unusual?”heasked.“No,” I said, “I did not. TheDoctor askedme the same question.Hewas

surehehadseensomethingoutoftheordinary.”“Ah!”gruntedToo-Too.“Thereyouare.Ithoughtso.”“Why,whathappened?”Iasked.“Well,youknow,”saidhe,“weowlsareprettyfamiliarwiththeMoon.Her

phases are, I suppose,more important tous than to almost anyanimal family.

Thelight,youunderstand,forhuntingandtravellingbynightisveryimportant.Well, to-nighthappenedtobethefullmoon—exactlyfullat teno’clock.Iwaslookingupatitthinkinghowbrightitwouldbeinthewoodsforhunting—toobright in fact—whensuddenly I sawa smallcloudpuffout from the left side,likesmokeitwas.Itdidn’t lastmore thanacoupleofsecondsandthenitwasgone.But—well,I’msureitwasdonedeliberately.”

“Howdoyoumean?”saidI.—“BysomeoneintheMoonitself?”“Well, of course,” replied the owl. “I know itmost likely sounds crazy to

you.But after all, there’s no use you and I pretending to one another thatwehaven’tguessedwherethismothcomesfrom,isthere?Wedon’thavetolettheworld in on this secret. But—well, after all we know, don’t we? If he hasn’tcome from theMoon, where else could he have come from? And what’s hedoinghere,hangingaroundinveryuncomfortablecircumstances?Hehascomeforsomepurpose,hasn’the?”

10.TOO-TOO’SWARNING

ThedifferencebetweenToo-TooandPolynesiainthismatter,asfarasIwasconcerned,wasverynoticeable.Polynesiahadseemedasthoughshewantedtokeepthingsfromme:Too-Toowasfortakingmeintohisconfidence.Ihadhadanuncomfortablefeelingthattheoldparrotwaslookingtowardssomeoccasionwhere—as I mentioned before—the Doctor also might wish me to be left inignoranceregardinghisplans.HowfarJohnDolittlehimselfwasinagreementwithherinthis,andhowfarshewasactingonherown,Ididnotknow.Butithadcausedmeagooddealofanxiety.

To find that Too-Too was willing and anxious to be quite frank with mecheeredmeupconsiderably.

“Youmean,”saidI,“thatthismothisstayinghereinthehopesthathemaytaketheDoctorbackwithhimtotheMoon?”

“What else?” said Too-Too, spreading out his wings in a funnyargumentativegesture.“Afterall,youknowthegreatman’sreputation.There’snothingverysurprisinginthatitshouldhavereachedtheMoon.Noonecansayyet what their civilization up theremay have grown into. But naturalists likeJohn Dolittle are not born every day—nor every century. They want him, Isuppose,tosolvesomeproblem.AndyoumaybesurethattheDoctorwillnotbeslowtoanswertheircallforhelp.Andwhat ismore,hewillcertainlykeephisgoingasecrettillthelastpossiblemoment.”

“'Whatelse?'saidToo-Too”“Humph!”Imuttered.“Youthinkthenthathemighthopoffanyminute?”“Idon’tknow,”saidToo-Too.“Thereisnotelling.Theycertainlyhaven’tlet

meinonanysecrets.ButI’msurethatgiantmothcamewithsomeordersaboutbringing theDoctorbackwithhim.How long itmay take theDoctor to learnenoughoftheinsect’slanguagetoknowwhattheywant,Icannottell.ButifyouareinterestedIwouldadviseyoutokeepaveryclosewatchonJohnDolittle’smovementsforthenextfewdays.Awordtothewise,youknow—”

Iponderedamomentbeforeanswering.“Allright,”Isaidatlast.—“Thankyou,Too-Too,forwarningme.”“Itwas not only on your own account,” said the owl, “that I dropped this

wordofcaution.Ifhegoes,weanimalswouldbemuchhappierifhehadsomeotherhumanwithhim.Getting to theMoonis—well—ariskybusiness, tosaytheleast—anditismyguessthathewillavoidtakinganymorecompanythanhecanpossiblyhelponaccountoftherisk.”

ItwasonlyveryshortlyafterthatconversationwithToo-ToothatImadeitmybusinesstoquestiontheDoctorabouthisplans.

“Soitistrue,”Isaid,“thatyouhavehopesofgettingtotheMoonwiththehelpofthismoth?”

“Well,”saidhe,“itwilldependofcourseonhowthingspanout.But,yes,Ithink I can certainly say that I have hopes in that direction.As I told you, itseemsprettycertainnowthatthismothwassentdownspeciallytofetchme.”

“Itisaverythrillingidea,”saidI.“Buttobequitehonest,Idon’tseehowyou’regoingtomanageit.Theysaythereisnoairthere,don’tthey?”

TheDoctorshruggedhisshoulders.“Thereisanimallifethereanyway,”saidhe.“Thesemothscanmanagevery

well.Itisprobablyadifferentkindofair,thatisall.Iamfacedwiththeproblemoffindingoutwhatsortofatmosphereitistheyhavethere.OnceI’vedonethatIshallbeinaverymuchbetterpositiontosaywhetherornotheearthlyhumancansubsistintheMoon.Iambeginningtocometotheconclusionthatuptherethe vegetable kingdom is relativelymuchmore active and important than theanimalkingdom.Ofcoursethat’sonlyguessworksofar.Buteverythingpointsto it. I believe that the atmosphere, whatever air they have, is created orinfluencedverylargelybythevegetablekingdom.Thatiswhythemothbroughtalongwithhimthoseflowerswhoseperfumesseemsoimportanttohim.”

“But,” said I, “scientistshavesaid there isnowater there,haven’t they?—Thatifthereweretherewouldbeclouds?”

“Oh,well,”saidtheDoctor,shrugginghisshoulders,“howdotheyknow—withouthavingbeenthere?PerhapstheMoonwaterisofadifferentkind—onethatdoesnotvolatilizeandgooffintoclouds—thewayitdoeswithus.Perhapstheair,theheat,isofadifferentkind.Whoshallsay?Theonlywaytoknowistogothereandsee.”

“That’sallverywell,”Ireplied.“Butinthejoboffindingoutyoucould,sofarasIcantell,veryeasilygiveyourlifewithoutanyonethankingyou.”

TheDoctorponderedseriouslyamoment.“Yes,”hesaidatlast,“Iadmititmaysoundsortofcrazytomostpeople.But

Ihaveaconfidenceinanimals.Thelunaranimalkingdomwantsmeupthereforsomething.AsyetIhaven’tbeenabletofindoutexactlywhatitis.Butsofarallmylife,asyouknow,IhavetrustedtheanimalkingdomandIhaveneverhadthatconfidenceimposedon.IftheMoonanimalswantme,I’llgo.AndIhavenofearabouttheirfindingawaytogetmethere—andawaytogetmeback.”

“Humph!”Isaid.“Butevenifthereshouldbeair—ofasort—ontheMoonitself, there isnone inbetween, is there?Myunderstandingof this situation isthatwhenyougetawayfromtheEarthacertaindistanceyoucometotheendoftheairenvelope.Howcananyoneflywhenthereisnoairforhiswingstobeatagainst?”

OncemoreJohnDolittleshruggedhisshoulders.“Themothmanagedit,”hesaid.“IimaginethatsofarasamediumforflyingisconcernedthegravityoftheEarth, being stronger than the gravity of theMoon, hewas pulleddownhere,without much effort on his own part, as soon as he got outside the Moon’sattraction.ThatwouldmakeitlookasthoughitwereeasiertogetherefromtheMoon than from here to theMoon.However themost important thingwouldseemtocarryenoughatmospherewithyoutosupportlifeonthevoyage.”

“Isitfar,”Iasked,“totheMoon?”

“'Isitfar,'Iasked,'totheMoon?'”“Farenough,”saidhe.“Butafterallonlyaboutonefourteen-hundredthpart

of the distance to the Sun. As soon as I am convinced that they, that is theMoon’sanimalkingdom,wants tohavemecome, then I’llgo. I’mnot afraid.Theywill take care ofme. If they can get one of their people down tome, Ishouldbeabletogetuptothem.Itismerelyaquestionofknowingconditionsandmakingprovisionsforperfectlynatural,ifnew,conditions.”

OfcoursewhentheDoctorputitinthatwaytherewasafterallverylittletobesaid.Thatsublimeconfidenceofhisintheanimalkingdom,whetheritwasof

theMoonortheEarth,overcamealldifficultiesinamannerthatleftyoualmostgasping.IftheMooncreatureswantedhim,hewouldgo.Thatwastheendofthematter.

For therest,everythingnowdependedon thedevelopmentofconversationbetweenhimselfand thegiantmoth.Wehadsuccessfullykept thesecretof itspresencewithusfromtheoutsideworld—sofar.

“Youknow,Stubbins,”saidhetomeoneeveningwhenweweretalkingthisover,“Iamnoteventellingtheanimals,myownhousehold,Imean,aboutanyplansImayhaveforapossiblejourneytotheMoon.Onecannotbetoocareful.If it ever leaked out that I was contemplating such a thing wewould have areporterfromeverypaperinthecountryclamouringatourgatesforaninterviewwithin twenty-four hours. The world may call me a crank. But anythingsensationallikethiscanstartanavalancheofpublicitywhichnothingwillstop.Polynesia is about the only one I have taken intomy confidence. I suspect ofcoursethatToo-Too,Chee-CheeandJiphavesomeideaofwhatisgoingon.ButI haven’t discussed thematterwith themand I know I can trust them tokeeptheirsuspicionstothemselves.”

“Haveyou,”Iasked,“decidedyet,ifyoudogo,whomyouwouldtakewithyou?Ipresumeyouhadn’tthoughtofgoingentirelyalone?”

“Urn—er-”theDoctormurmured,“thatisabithardtosettleyet.The—er—well,therisks,youknow,Stubbins,aregreat.Thereisnosenseintryingtohidethat.Itissomethingsoentirelynew.SometimesIfeelIshouldtakenoonewithmeatall—thatIhaven’ttherightto.IfIgoaloneandIfailtogetback,well,I’llhavegivenmylifeinacauseworthwhile.AsIsaid,formyownsafetyIhaven’tmuch fears.But I’mnot sosure that thesameprotectionwouldnecessarilybegiven to the rest ofmy party. I havemade no final decisions yet. Polynesia Iwould like to take—andChee-Chee. I feel theybothmightbeveryuseful;butfortherest,muchasIwouldliketohavethemwithme,Ithinktheyarebetteroffwheretheyare—athome.”

Andnowofcoursethemostimportantquestionformewas:wouldI,TommyStubbins, be of theDoctor’s party on the voyage to theMoon? I was almostafraid to ask the question of him direct. Never have I been so divided inmyfeelingsaboutanything.OneminuteIwasjustcrazytogo.ThenextIrealizedwhatamadwildexpeditionitwasandfeltthatthechancesofanyonereturningalivefromsuchavoyageweretooslighttobeworthmentioning.ThenfollowedthepictureofhowIwouldfeelifIlethimgoaloneandstayedbehindmyself.Thatfinallydecidedme.ScaredblueasIwasofthewholescheme,IknewIjusthadtodomyutmosttoaccompanyhim.Icouldn’t lethimgowithoutme.ThefollowingeveningIbroachedthesubject.

“Doctor,”Isaid,“youareofcoursecountingontakingmewithyouonthistrip?”(Ifeltitbesttobeginbysupposingthathewas.)“Youwouldfindithardtodowithoutasecretary,wouldn’tyou?Thereisboundtobeanenormouslotofnote-takingtobedone,eh?”

Iwatchedhisfacekeenlyasheponderedamomentbeforeanswering.“Well—er—Stubbins,” he began at length, “you know how I feel about

taking anyone with me—even those animal friends of mine, members of myhousehold,whohavenoone tomournover their loss if theyshouldnotcomeback. And—er—in your case, Stubbins, you must realize that it is—quitedifficult. Please do not think that I don’t appreciate the fact that youwant toshare the dangers of this entirely new enterprisewithme. I admit Iwould bemorethangladofyourcompany.Iexpecttobefacedwithsituationswhenthecompanionshipofanotherhumanmightbeatremendouscomfortandhelp.But—well, youknow,Stubbins, aswell as Ido,howyourparentswould feel if Itookyouwithmeon sucha trip.To theMoon!Comparedwith thatourothervoyageslooklikeatwopennycoachridetotheoutskirtsofLondon.Thenagain,remember,Stubbins,Iamflyinginthefaceofallscientificauthority.Whatevermy own doubts may be, the fact remains that all astronomers, from Newtondown,who have studied theMoon emphatically declare that no life can existthere—that theMoon is a deadworld. I am gambling, likeColumbus, onmyownopinionpittedagainst the restofmankind….No—I’msorry.Butnothingwouldexcuseme,inmyowneyes—letalonetheeyesofyourmotherandfather—fortakingyouwithme.You—youmuststaybehind.Youwillbeneededhere.I—Ican’ttakeyou,Stubbins.”

Ifeltcrushed.Itseemedasthoughtherewasnothingmoretobesaid.Andyethisfinaldecisionleftmealittleunsatisfied.WhenIhadwarnedhimofthedangersforhimselfingoingtotheMoonhehadarguedoneway,makinglightoftherisk;andwhenIhadaskedtobeallowedtocomealonghehadarguedtheotherway,andlaidstressuponthedangersoftheenterprise.

Resolvingtomakejustonemoretry,Ipointedthisouttohimandendedbysaying:

“Iftheflowersthemothbrought,Doctor,grewontheMoon,theremustbewaterthere.Isn’tthatso?”

Tomysurprisehedidnotseemembarrassedbymystrokeoflogicatall.“Probably, Stubbins, that is true. But do not forget that we are facing the

problemsandnaturalhistoryofalifewhollyunknowntous.Thechemistryoftheseplantsissomethingutterlynewtoourownscience.ThatIknowbyprettythoroughinvestigationofthem.Toustheideaofproducingplantswithoutwaterissomethingquiteimpossible.ButintheMoon,again,whoshallsay?Theymay

beairplants,parasiteslikeourorchids,livingonthemoistureoftheatmosphere.Oranything.Noonecantellhowtheygettheirnourishmentorcarryonlifetillhehasseenthemgrowingintheirnativesurroundings.Listen,Stubbins:ifIhadeverseenatreegrowingontheMoonIwouldfeelIcouldansweryourquestionbetter.ButIhaven’t.AndIhavenoideawhateverasyetfromwhatsourcetheseflowersderivetheirlife.”

He paused a moment, then rose and approaching my chair where I satgloomily scowling at the table with my head in my hands, he clutched myshoulderinakindlygrasp.

“Goodfriend,”saidheinafunnychokeysortofvoice,“let’snotdiscussitanymore.Youknow,don’t you, howmuch I’d love tohaveyou.But I can’t,Stubbins—Ijustcan’ttakeyou.”

11.OURMIDNIGHTVISITORS

Often,whenIlookbackonthepast,IrealizethattheDoctor’sanswertomyrequesttoletmeaccompanyhimhadtheoppositeeffecttothatwhichhehopedfor—orexpected.Imadenoanswerwhatevertohisdecisionthatnight.Iwenttobed.ButthereIlayawakethinking.

WhatmighthappenifIlethimgoalone?IrecalledwhatToo-Toohadsaid:“We, the animalmembersof his household,wouldbemuchhappier if hehadsomeotherhumanwithhim.”Andthen,Isuppose,justthefactthatmycomingwasforbiddenmadeitseemallthemoredesirableandputmeonmymettle.

Anyhow, after many hours of sleeplessness, I decided that I would saynothing, lie low, and remember Too-Too’s advice about keeping a very closewatchonJohnDolittle’smovementsforthenextfewdays.

Andasitturnedout,itwasagoodthingthatIdidso.ItiswithoutquestiontheproudestthingthatIcanboastofinmywholerecordthatthisdetermination,which the Doctor’s refusal ofmy company bred inme, led tomy eventuallygoingwithhim.

FromthatnightwhenImadeupmymindIhardlylethimoutofmysight.NodetectiveeverplayedagameofclosershadowingthanIdid.WheneverhesentmeoffonanerrandIpretended togo,butsentJiporChee-Chee instead.Frommoment to moment I did not knowwhen he might depart; but I knewwherehewasandexactlywhathewasdoing.For Iwasquitedetermined thatwhenhewenthewouldnotgowithoutme.

InthisToo-Toowastheonlyonewhohelpedme.Therewerehoursofcourse

whenIcouldnotbeonthewatchmyself.Ihadtosleep.Atsuchtimesthelittleowl did duty for me. I don’t think that the Doctor ever realized how closelyshadowedhewas.

Thehourcameatlast.Iwasfastasleep.Too-Toowokemebygentlypullingmyhair.InasecondIwaswideawake.

“Tommy!”Iheard.“Getup!—Tommy!Tommy!”“Whatisit?”Iwhispered.“What’shappening?”“Getyourclotheson,”whisperedtheowl.“TheDoctorhasgoneoutintothe

garden.Hehashislittleblackbagwithhim—andhisovercoat.Ihaveafeelingthatthingsmaybehappening.Comedownintothegarden—Don’tstrikealight.Betterbeon the safe side. I can see. I’ll guideyou.Buthurry—forgoodness’sake!”

MybedroomwassosmallandIknewtheexactpositionofeverythinginitsowell,thatitwasnogreatfeatformetodressmyselfinthedark.Iremember,asIfelt formyclothesandfinallydrewthemon,wonderingwhatIhadbettertakewithme for this strange new voyage.Whatwould one needmost in theMoon?—Who could say? For who had been there? I had given this problemsomethoughtalreadyanddecidedthat thefreerwewereofluggagethebetter.ThathadalwaysbeentheDoctor’sprinciple;andconsideringhowimpossibleitwastomakeachoiceinthesecircumstances,itseemedhereaparticularlygoodruletofollow.

Mynewbigpocketknife!Yes, Imust take that. Igot itoutof thebureau-drawer. It, with a box of matches, was all the dunnage I took. Many a timeafterwardsIlaughedatthesolution.AndyetofcourseIdidnotknowforcertainthatnight,asIhunchedonmyovercoatinthedark,whetherornoIwasleavingthehouse and theEarth for thegreat voyage.Still something toldme that thelittleowlhadprobablyguessedright. Icouldhearhimfidgetingandmutteringsomewherenearthedoor,impatientformetobegoing.HegaveagruntofreliefwhenIfinallyfeltmywaytowardshimandwhisperedthatIwasready.

Hoppingdownthepitch-blackstairsaheadofmeheledtheway,bymeansofhisfunnylittlegruntsforsignals,tothekitchen.HereIverystealthilyundidtheboltsofthebackdoorwhichledintothegarden.

Ihadnotthevaguestnotionwhattimeitwas.IknewToo-Toocouldtellmeroughlyatallevents,butIwasafraidtocalltohim.TheMoonwasvisible,butonlyby fitsandstarts;because thegentlewindwasblowingcloudsacross theskyinaconstantprocession.

Too-Toowaitedamomentformetogetusedtothedimlightofthegarden.Heknewthatmystumblingorsteppingonacrackingtwigmighteasilygiveusaway.Hewhisperedthathewouldgoforwardaloneandreconnoitre.Isawhim

crouchforaspringasthoughhemeanttotaketohiswings.Flyinghecouldseemorethanwalkingandbelesslikelytobenoticedhimself.

Buthedidnotleavetheground.Suddenly,sharply,heturnedhishead.Thenhecamebacktome.

“Tommy!”hewhispered.“Therearestrangersinthegarden.Twomenhavejustcomeinatthefrontgate.”

AsIbentdowntolistentohim,hehoppedontomyknee,andfromtheretomy shoulder, a favourite travelling place of hiswhenwewent about together.Fromthislookouthecouldeasilywhisperintomyear.

“Whodoyoureckontheyare,Too-Too?”Iasked.“Goodness only knows,” he replied. “We’ve got to keep a closewatch on

themanyway.Thenwe’llsoonknow,Ifancy.They’rebehavingmightyqueerly—evidentlyanxiousnottobeseen.”

“Doyouthinktheymightbeburglarstryingtogetintothehouse?”Iasked.“Not the slightest chance of that,” said the owl promptly. “No one in his

senseswouldpickouttheDoctor’sestablishmentasahousetorob.Everybodyknowsheisalmostalwayspenniless.EverythinginthehouseofrealvalueJohnDolittlehassoldlongago.Wemustwatchthesebirdsandseewhattheirgameis.Butitisn’tplunder.”

So, under whispered orders from the owl, I crept along in the shadow ofbushesandhedgesandtriedtofindoutwhatourstrangevisitorshadcomefor.

Very soonwe saw itwas a case of spyingon spies.The twomen, for thepresentatallevents,wantednothingmorethananopportunitytofindoutwhattheDoctorwas doing.Therewas no question now that the secret of the giantmoth’spresenceinourgardenwasout.Hisgiganticform,litupbytheMoon’spalinglight,occupiedthegreaterpartofthebacklawn.TheblackfigureoftheDoctorcouldbeplainlyseenscoutingaroundit.

AsamatteroffactIfoundmyselfplayingadoublepartandwatchingboththeDoctorand themen. IverysoonsawfromJohnDolittle’smovements thatToo-Too had guessed right and that to-nightwas the date that theDoctor haddecided on for his departure. Several suspicious-looking packages lying aboutthe lawn, besides the black bag, showed me that John Dolittle had madepreparationsofamoreextensivekindthanheusuallydidforhisvoyages.Thequestionnowthatseemedmostimportantwas:wouldthesementrytointerferewithhisdeparturebeforehegotaway?

Altogetheritwasformeastrangeandcrazynightofadventure.Atnotimecould Imakeupmymindwhether itwasmore important towatch theDoctorthantokeepmyeyeonthemen.Themen,Ifelt,wereamenace,adanger,whichatanymomentmightinterferewithJohnDolittleandwithplansthatcouldvery

possiblymeanagreat,greatdealtotheadvancementofscienceandknowledgefor the human race. On the other hand, if I neglected to watch the Doctorhimself,hemightquitepossibly take flightwith themoonmothand leavemebehind.

WhileToo-Too and Iwere trying tomake up ourmindswhichwe shouldgive our best attention to, themen, to our great astonishment, came out fromtheirconcealment in the shrubberyandboldlywalkedup to theDoctoron thelawn.

“Good evening, Doctor Dolittle,” we heard them say. “We represent theSlopshireCourier.Weunderstandthatyouareinterestedincertainexperimentsandnaturalhistoryresearchofanovelandsensationalcharacter.Wouldyoubesogoodastoanswerafewquestions?”

“Thereyouare, they’re reporters!”whisperedToo-Too. “Ihad expected asmuch.Iwonderhowonearththeyheardofthemoth’sbeingherethough.”

“Well—er-”theDoctorbegan,“thisisaveryunconventionalhourforyoutocallonme.Butperhaps,ifyoucamebackinafewhours—sayattenoreleveninthemorning—Imightfindtimetogiveyouaninterview.JustnowIamverybusy.”

Thereporterswhowereclearlyanxious toget the information theywantedright away (so as to be ahead of the other papers in their announcements)conversed together a moment before replying. Then they turned back to theDoctor.NeitherToo-ToonorIheardexactlywhattheysaid.Butwhateveritwasit seemed to be agreeable to the Doctor and in keeping with his wishes. Forimmediatelyafter,thetwomenretiredandtheDoctordisappearedintoanotherpartofthegarden.

ItisquitecertainthatwithoutToo-Too’saidinthisnight’sworkthingscouldneverhaveturnedoutassuccessfullyastheydid.Ihaveoftenthoughtsincethatif thelittleowlhadeverwantedtoentertheprofessionofanimaldetectivethegreatKlingcouldhavebeeneasilysurpassed.

For Too-Too certainly had a gift for seeing things without being seen.DirectlythemenpartedfromtheDoctor,hepartedfromme.

“Listen,”saidhebeforeheleftmyshoulder:“Idon’ttrustthosegentlemen.We have a double job to-night. The Doctor should be the easier of the two,because he will be less suspicious. You watch him. I’ll keep an eye on thenewspaperfellows.Itmaybethatthey’llclearout,astheysaidtheywould.Andthenagaintheymaynot.Wecan’taffordtoriskit.YougoaheadandwatchJohnDolittleandI’llletyouknowiftheSlopshireCourier’smendoanythingoutofthe ordinary. Remember, whatever happens, the Doctor must not go on thisvoyagealone.”

“Allright,Too-Too,”Isaid,“I’mreadyforallemergencies.Goahead.”Withalittleflirtofhiswings,theowlleftmyshoulderandsoaredawayinto

thedarknessof thenight.Thenvery,verystealthilyandcautiously Imademyway along the garden, keeping always in the shadow of hedges and shrubs,towardsthegreatfigureofthemoonmothsquattingonthelawn.

Itwasn’teasywork.ForonethingIcouldnotlocatetheDoctorhimselfforquiteawhile.AndIwasscaredthatanyminuteImightrunintohimandhavetoconfess that I’d been spying. I didn’t feel at all guilty about that. If Too-Too,speakingfortheanimalhouseholdingeneral,feltitnecessarythatheshouldbewatched, Iwas verywilling to do itwithout any qualms of conscience at all.Whatmightnotdependonmyvigilanceandskill?Hemustnotgoalone.

What was that?—Yes, the Doctor’s figure coming out from behind theshadowofthemoth.Inhishandsheheldtwopackages.IwishedthatIhadToo-Too’strickofseeingclearlyinthedark.DareImovealittlecloser?

AsamatteroffactIdidnothaveachanceto,beforeIfoundToo-Toobackonmy shoulder.With a gentle fanning ofwings he dropped down besidemyrightearasgentlyasabutterflylandingonaleaf.

“Theyhaven’tgone,Tommy,”hewhispered.—“Neverhadanyintentionto,Iimagine.Theyclattereddownthefrontsteps,makingagreatnoise,butalmostimmediatelycamebackagainontip-toe.Theyarenowhangingaroundthefrontgardenclosetothewall.”

“Whatdoyouthinkwehadbetterdo?”Iasked.“Well,asfarasIcanseeit’sachoiceoftwothings,”saidhe.“Eitherwecontinuetowatchthemandseehowmuchtheyfindout;orwewakeupBumpoandgethimtochuck themoff thepremises. Myself, I’m all for throwing them out. I think it can be done toowithouttheDoctor’srealizingthatyou’vebeenwatchinghim.That’simportantofcourse.”

“I think you are right,” said I. “Suppose you take a spell at watching theDoctorwhile I go andwakeBumpo. I don’t imagine they’ll hang about longafterhehasrecommendedanearlydeparturetothem.”

To this theowlagreed.And Iwastedno time ingetting to thebusinessofrousingBumpo—alwaysalongjobatbest.

IfoundHisHighnesstheCrownPrinceoftheJolliginkisnoringawayinthedeadest sleep a simple nature ever slept. By ten solid minutes of vigorouspummellingImanagedfinallytogetagruntoutofhim,andbykeepingat theworkwithoutpityforanotherfiveIgothimtositup.

“Isitaconflagration,Tommy?”heaskedsleepilyrubbinghisenormousfistsintohisstillmoreenormousface.“Itcan’tbetimetogetupyet.It’sstilldark.”

“Listen,Bumpo,”saidIshakinghim:“pullyourselftogether.It’simportant,

serious.I’mawfullysorrytodisturbyoubutitjustcouldn’tbehelped.Twomenhavecomeintothegarden.They’renewspaperreporters,itseems,spyingontheDoctor.TheDoctorhimselfisstillworkingwiththegiantmoth.Wedidn’twantto disturb him. But these strangers must be got out, off the premises, youunderstand.You’re the only onewho canmake them go.Get up and dress—quick.”

PARTFOUR

1.BUMPOCLEARSTHEGARDEN

After Bumpo had got really awake and I was able to make him fullyunderstandwhatwaswantedofhimhewasnotslowincomingtotherescue.

“Why,Ineverheardofsuchcheek!”saidheasheclimbedintohisclothes.“Whatdo they think theDoctor’shomeis, I’d like toknow—asortofgeneralinformationbureau,openallnight?Wherewasityousawthesemiscreantslast,Tommy?”

“Too-Toosaidhesawthemdowninthefrontgardenhidingintheshadowofthewall.But listen,Bumpo: it ismost terribly important thatwedon’t raise arow.Ifyoucangrabthemquietlyandmakethemunderstandthatthey’vegottogo,that’swhatwewant.Wecan’thavearumpus,youunderstand?”

“OfcourseIunderstand,”saidBumpojerkingonhiscoatandreachingforaclubwhichstoodinacornerbyhisbed.“They’llunderstandtoo.Suchcheek!Ineverheardanythinglikeit.This,afterallourwatching!Well,well!Comewithme.We’llsoonmakethemshiftalong.”

Inthegameofmovinginthedark,ofseeingwithoutbeingseen,BumpowasalmostasgoodasToo-Toohimself.Jungletraininghadbroughthimagiftwhichallhiscollegeeducationhadnotdulled.Aheadofmehewentdownthestairs,feelinghiswaywithouta light, tillhe reached thegroundfloor.Therewithouthesitationhemadehisway to the frontdoor,opened it andpassedout almostwithoutsound.Hesignalledtometohangbackafewpacesintherearandthenslippedacrossthegravelpathtothewall.

In spite of his instructions Iwas not far behind him. Iwas pretty sure theDoctorcouldhardlyhearushereunlesswemadeagreatlotofnoise.BumpofelthiswayalongthewallandpresentlyfromthejumphegaveIknewhehadmethisquarry.StealthilyImovedalittlenearerandinthedimlightIcouldseehehadthetwomenbythescruffsoftheirnecks.

“Listen,” hewhispered in a curious fierce hiss: “Get out of this garden asquickaspossibleandnevercomenearitagain.There’sthegate.Go!”

Besidethetwoshadowsnearthewallhisgreatbulktowereduplikeagiant.Notwaitingforananswerheconductedorshovedthemtowardstheheadofthe

stepsthatleddowntotheroad.HereatthegateIsaw,forthefirsttime,thefacesofourvisitorsbythelight

ofastreetlamp.Theycertainlylookedscared—forwhichtheycouldhardlybeblamed.TobegrabbedunexpectedlyfromunderahedgebyanegroofBumpo’ssizeandappearancewasenoughtoupsetanyone.

“Heconductedthemtowardstheheadofthesteps”Theydidnotwaitforanysecondorderstodepartbutbundleddownthesteps

asfastastheycouldgo,onlytoogladtoescapewithwholeskins.Hisjobfinished,thegoodBumpowasimmediatelyovercomewithadesire

to finish his night’s sleep. I thanked him for his assistance and he at oncereturnedtohisroom.AsIwishedhimaverylategoodnightInoticedthatthedawn was beginning to show, a faint grey behind the poplar trees to theeastward. This I felt must mean that John Dolittle would either hurry up hisdeparture before real daylight appeared, or else give up the project till thefollowing night. Iwasted no further time in speculation butmademyway, asquicklyasIcouldwithoutbeingheardorseen, roundto theback lawntofindoutwhatwashappening.

IdiscoveredtheDoctorinastateofconsiderableexcitementconversingwiththemoth.HeappearedtohavemadegreatadvancesinmeansofcommunicationwiththegiantinsectsinceIhadlastseenhimsoengaged.Theapparatushewasnowusingwaslittlemorethanatuningfork.Indeed,italmostseemedasthoughhehadfoundawayofspeakingwithhisguestdirect.WhenIfirstgotaglimpseofhimhehadhisheaddownclosetothatofthemoth’sandheldhislefthandononeofitsantennae.Onceinawhilehewouldconsultthetuningforkgraspedinhisrighthand.

Fromthemoth’smovements,littlejerksoftheheadandtremorsofthelegs,it looked as though he was busily engaged in getting some message to theDoctor. Iguessed theargumentwasoverwhether thestart shouldbemade to-nightorpostponedonaccountoftheapproachingdaylight.Icreptnearertotheback endof thegiant creature tobe ready in case thedecisionweremade fordeparturerightaway.

Ofcourseindescribingthatwholenightitisveryhardtogiveaproperideaofthedifficultiesthatbesetme.Thehourbeforedawnisgenerallysupposedtobethedarkest.Bethatasitmay,theMooncertainlyhungverylowandthelightwasfaintenough.IhadnoideaofhowpreparedtheDoctorwas.IknewfromwhatIhadseen,andfromwhatToo-Toohadtoldme,thathehadmovedcertainbaggage out into the back garden. But it was almost impossible to determineunderthecircumstanceshowfarhehadperfectedhisplans.

However after a few moments more of watching him, prepared at anymomenttospringontothemoth’sdeepfurifheshouldmakeamovetofly,Idecidedthattheyhadbothgivenuptheprojectforto-night.ForpresentlyIsawtheDoctor’sdimfiguremoveawayfromthemothandconcealsomepackagesbeneath the shrubs. Also I got a vague impression that there was a hurriedconversation between the Doctor and Polynesia who appeared to be perchedsomewhereinthedirectionofalilacbush.

Asyoucanimagine,Iwaswearywiththelongwatchandtheexcitementandeverything. As soon as I saw the Doctor start towards the house I felt I wasrelievedfromfurtherneedofwatchfulnessforthepresentatallevents.Bleary-eyedforwantofsleep,IwaitedtillIheardtheDoctorenterthehouseandlockthedoor.ThenImademywaytoawindowwhichIknewwasnotlatched,slidupthesashandcrawledin.

IknewmytrustylieutenantToo-ToowassomewhereabroadstillandthatIcould rely on him to let me know if any occasion should arise requiring mypresence.MyheadhadnosoonertouchedthepillowthanIwentoffintoadeadsleep.

Mydreamshoweverweresoondisturbedbyallmannerofdreadfulvisions

ofmyselfandtheDoctorflyingthroughtheaironthebackofadragon,landingonamoonmadeofgreencheeseandpeopledbyagiantraceofbeetlesandotherdreadfulfantasticinsectswhoseoneambitionwastogobbleusbothup.

AgainIwasawakenedbythegoodToo-Too.“Whatisitnow?”Iasked.“Don’ttellmetheDoctor’sgone!”“No,”saidhe.“He’sasleep—foronceinhislife.Seeinghowhehasworked

thelastweeks,Iwouldn’twonderifhedidn’twakeupforafortnight.Butwe’rehavingvisitors somemore. I don’t knowwhat to do about it.Thosewretchednewspaper men must have told the whole town. For all sorts of people arepeering in at the garden gate. It is now about ten o’clock. And ever sincedaybreak children and nurse-maids and every kind of folk have been hanginground as though they expected a balloon to go up or something. Bumpo ofcourse is stilldead to theworld—hewouldbe.Andnooneelse is stirringbutDab-Dab and Chee-Chee. I think you ought to get down and take a look atthings. It seems tome as thoughwe’d have thewhole town around us beforelong.Andsomeofthemaresocheeky!Youneversawanythinglikeit,comingintothegardenandpickingtheflowersasthoughtheplacebelongedtothem.”

“Allright,Too-Too,”saidI.“I’llgetup.Youmightgoandseewhatyoucando towards getting Bumpo under way, will you? It does take such anunconscionabletimetogethimround.”

Too-Too promising he would do what he could in that direction left myroom:andonlyhalfrestedasIwas—forithadbeenlittlemorethanfivehourssinceIhadgonetobed—crawledoutandstartedtodress.

ArrivingdownstairsIfoundthathehadnotexaggeratedmattersintheleast.I peered through the studywindows and saw that there was a large group ofpeoplegatheredat the frontgate.Mostof themhadnotdared tocome in.Butthere were a few bolder spirits who were already wandering about the frontgarden, peeping round the corners of the house and whispering together asthoughtheyexpectedsomestrangeperformancetobeginanyminute.

“Peepingroundthecornersofthehouse”While I was cudgelling my brains for some means of dealing with the

situationBumpohappilyarrivedonthescene.“Don’tletthemthinkwe’rehidinganything,Bumpo,”Isaid.“Buttheymust

bekeptoutofthebackgarden.Themothmustnotbedisturbedorscared.”ImustadmitthatBumpodidverywell.Hebeganbyherdingoutthosewho

hadstrayedinsidethegate.Afewwhoweremoreobstinateheassistedbytakingthembythecoat-collarorsleeveandshowingthemwheretheprivatepremisesleftoff and thepublichighwaybegan.But for themostparthe conducted theclearancewithgreattactandpoliteness.

It was quite evident however from the remarks of the people that thewretchednewspapermenhadblabbedtheirstoryinthetown.Also,thoughtheyhad not of course guessed the Doctor’s destination, they had, it seemed,announcedthathewasabouttotakeavoyageonthemoth’sback.Thisofcoursewas natural since they had seen John Dolittle preparing and gathering hisbaggageinthegarden.

“Whenishegoingtostart?”thecrowdasked.“Whereishegoing?”…“Will

hereallyflyonthebigmoth?”…“Can’tweseethecreature?”…“Whereareyoukeepingtheanimal?”etc.,etc.

BumpoinhisbestOxfordmannerwasverydiscreetandmostcourteous.“Sh!” said he. “Doctor JohnDolittlewillmakehis own announcements to

thepressinduecourse.Meantimebegoodenoughtoleavethepremises.Heissleepingaftermanyhoursofheavyworkandstudy.Hecannotbedisturbed.”

A large fat man climbed over the wall beside the gate. Bumpo took twostrides,pushedhimgentlybutfirmlyinthefacewithhisgigantichandandthemanfellheavilytotheroadway.

“Itisnotpolite,”saidBumpo,“toforceyourwayintoagentleman’sgardenwithoutinvitation.”

2.THEMOUNTEDPOLICE

Butourtroublesbynomeanscametoanendwithclearingthegardenofourinquisitive visitors. I have often thought since that somemeans of distractingtheir attention inotherdirectionswouldhavebeen abetterway forus todealwiththeproblemthanturningthemoffthepremises.

Becausetheydidnotgoaway.Theyweresurerthanevernowthatsomethingextraordinarywasgoingonwhichwedidnotwishknown.AndwhilewehadtherighttoforbidtheirtrespassontheDoctor’spremiseswehadnoauthoritytopreventtheirgatheringintheroad.Andtheydidgather,withoutanyquestion.IsupposethatwhenIcamedownstairstheremusthavebeenaboutfiftypersons.Butwhenthesehadhungaroundthegatetalkingforaboutanhourtheirnumberwasmultipliedbyten.

The bigger the crowd became the faster it seemed to grow. Everytradesman’s errand-boy, every carter going into town, every pedlar—in facteverypasserby,stoppedandinquiredwhatwasthematter.Heavenknowswhattalestheyweretold.TheDoctor’sreputationwasfantasticenoughforanythingalready. It onlyneeded awhisper that hewasgoing to fly awayon amoth tomakeanycountryyokelwanttostopinexpectationofashow.

“Everytradesman'serrand-boystoppedandinquired”JohnDolittlehimselfhadnotyetwokenup.Iwasinthedeepestdespair.The

roadwas now jammed; and farm-carts, carriages and deliverywagons, utterlyunabletopass,werelineduponeithersideofthecrowdthatthrongedaboutthegate.AnyonecomingdowntheOxenthorpeRoadnowjusthadtostopwhetherhewasinterestedornot,simplybecausehecouldn’tgetby.

“Tellme,Too-Too,”Isaid:“whatonearthdoyouthinkwehadbetterdo?Ifthis goes on we’ll have to get some assistance from outside. I never sawanythinglikeit.”

“Look,” said he peering out of thewindow besideme: “Here come somepolice—mountedpolicetoo.They’llsoonclearthecrowdaway.”

“Ihopeso,”saidI.-“Two—no,three—fourofthem.Itwillkeepthembusytogetthismobscattered.”

Well,thearrivalofthepolicedidcleartheroadway,itistrue.Butthatisallitdid.Sofarasthepeople’sinterestwasconcernedhowever,itmadethesituationworse rather than better. It was a little added excitement and sensation. Thecrowdobeyedordersandgatheredonthepavements,leavingtheroadwayclear

forcartsandcarriagestopass.Butstillitstayed.Presently I sawoneof thepolicemencomeup to the footofour steps.He

dismounted,tiedhishorsetothelamp-postandstartedtoascend.“You’dbettergoandseewhathewants,Tommy,”saidToo-Too.“Isuppose

he’llaskwhathascausedthedisturbance.”Iwent to the front door and opened it. The constablewas very polite.He

asked if I could tell himwhat hadbrought the crowdaround and if therewasanythingIcoulddotomakethethronggohome.

Foramoment Icouldn’t thinkofa thing tosuggest.FinallyToo-Too,whowas sitting on my shoulder, whispered, “You’ll have to wake the Doctor,Tommy.We’vedoneallwecan.”

IaskedtheconstabletocomeinandwentupstairstoJohnDolittle’sroom.Ihatedtowakehim.HewassleepinglikealogandIknewhowmuchheneededhisrest.VerygentlyIshookhimbytheshoulder.

“Whatisit,Stubbins?”heasked,openinghiseyes.

“'Whatisit,Stubbins?'heasked”“Doctor,” said I, “I’m terribly sorry to disturb you. But we felt it just

couldn’tbehelped.Itseemsthatthemoth’spresenceherehasleakedout.”“Yes, I know,” said he. “It can’t be helped. These wretched newspaper

fellows—youcan’tkeep themout.Twoof themcame toseeme in thegardenlastnight.”

“Butthetruthis,”Isaid,“thattheyhaveblabbedtheirstorytothewholeofPuddleby,itseems.TheroadisjustblockedbythecrowdwhohavecometoseeyouflytotheMoon.Thepolicehavefinallyarrivedonthesceneandtheywanttoknowif there isanythingwecando tomake the thronggohome.Theyarequitepolite.Butwecouldn’tthinkofanythingtosuggest.SoIcametoaskyouwhatyouthoughtshouldbedone.”

The Doctor’s handling of the situation was, I decided afterward,extraordinarilygood.

“Well,”hesaid,climbingoutofbedwithayawn,“IsupposeImustspeaktothecrowd.JustletmegetmyclothesonandIwillseewhatIcando.”

IlefthimandreturnedtoToo-Toodownstairs.“Keepaneyeonhim,”saidtheowl,whenIhadexplainedwhathadpassed

betweenus.“Youseehishandhasbeenforced,asitwere.And—well—anythingmighthappennow,youknow,anymoment.”

Ididn’tquiteunderstandwhathemeant.ButIrealizedtheneedofkeepinganeyeonJohnDolittle.Ihadnoopportunitytoasktheowlfurtherwhatexactlyhehadinmind,becausetheDoctoratthatmomentcamedownfullydressedandinterruptedourconversation.

Afterafewminutes’talkwiththepolicemanhewentoutintothegardenandfrom the topof thestepsaddressed thecrowd in the roadbelow.Hebeganbygiving them a general chatty sort of lecture on natural history, touching onvariousbranchesofstudywithwhichhehadlatelybeenoccupied.Thishadtheexcellent effect of getting the crowd into a good humour and dismissed fromtheir minds a good deal of their suspicions that he was keeping things fromthem.Presentlyhewentontoexplainthatunfortunatelyhecouldnotinvitethemintoseethegardenandhiscollectionsjustnowashewasparticularlybusyatthe moment and things were not in order for public exhibition. They wouldrealize,hesaid,thatbyblockinguptheroadandcausingadisturbancetheyhad—quiteunintentionally,hefeltsure—interruptedhiswork.If theywouldbesogood as to retire peacefully theywould confer a great favour on him and thepolice.Andpossiblyatsomefuturedate,iftheywouldcallagain,arrangementscouldbemadetoshowthemoverhisestablishmentinwhichtheyhadshownsokindaninterest.

Tomygreatamazementthesimplespeechhadpreciselytherighteffect:Thecrowdactually seemed to realize for the first time that its behaviourhadbeen

discourteous;andinalmostanapologeticmooditatoncebegantobreakupanddisperse.

“There’s no doubt about it, Tommy,” sighed Too-Too, as together wewatchedthethrongfadeawaydowntheroad,“theymaycallhimacrank—buthe’sagreatman.”

3.THEERRAND

Soforthepresentwewererelievedofthatworry.ButitwasnotverylongafterthecrowdhadgonethatIalmostwisheditbackagain.Thepeople,whiletheywereanuisanceandonedidnotknowwhattheymightdoiftheycontinuedto gather,were at all events a protection against something that bothToo-Tooand Igreatly feared.And thatwas theDoctor’sescapingalonewith theMoonmoth.Wefeltthattherewaslittledangerofhismakinganattemptwithallthatmobpresent.

Butwhen,shortlyafter lunch time,JohnDolittlecameandaskedmetogooffonanerrand forhim toOxenthorpe,whichwouldkeepmeaway from thehouse, I knew, till after nightfall, I got really alarmed. Stuttering andstammering,ImadealltheexcusesIcouldpossiblythinkofonthespurofthemoment. I said I felt tired and asked could not Bumpo go in my place. ButBumpo,itseemed,hadalreadybeensentawayonanothererrand.Allmyothereffortstogetoutofthetripfailedlikewise.Therewasnothingtodobutacceptthejob.ButassoonasIpartedfromtheDoctorIwentandsoughtoutToo-Too.

“Tommy,”saidhewhenIhadexplainedmatters,“youjustcan’tgo.That’sallthereisaboutit.”

“ButwhatamI todo?” I said.“I’mhisassistantafterall. Ican’t refuse toobeyorders.”

“No,” said the owl, putting his head on one side andwinking a large eyeknowingly.“Youdon’trefuse—thatwouldbemostunwise—butyoudon’tgo.Itisverysimple.Youjustkeepoutofsight.”

“Butwhat can I say,” I asked, “tomorrow, if he is still here, and asksmeabouttheerrand?”

“Tomorrow’stomorrow,”saidToo-Too.“Anditcantakecareofitself.Evenifhehasn’tgonehe’snotgoingtokillyoufordisobeyingorders.Wecanthinkupsomeexcuse.Butdon’tgooffthepremises.Thefactthatheissourgentaboutthistripheissendingyouon—andIdon’tknowofanyreallypressingbusinesshehashadinOxenthorpeforyears—makesmesuspicious.AlsoBumpo’sbeing

already got rid of on some other job looks to me like clearing the decks foraction.—No,don’tworryabouttomorrow.Bythattime,ifIguesscorrectly,JohnDolittlewillbeonhiswaytotheMoon.”

Ifinallydecidedthelittleowlwasprobablyright.Sowithsomeexcuseforre-enteringthebackgarden,IbadetheDoctorgoodbyeandwithallappearancesofdutifullyobeyingordersstartedoffdowntheroad,presumablyboundforthelittle inn about half amile fromour house,where the coaches stopped on theway from Puddleby to Oxenthorpe. But as soon as I was well out of sight Iloiteredabout till thecoachwent rattlingby.Then Imademyway round to anarrowlanewhichskirtedtheDoctor’spropertyattheback.ThereIscrambledupthewallanddroppeddownontheotherside.

ThispartofJohnDolittle’sgroundswasnearlyalldenseshrubbery.Ofrecentyearshehadfoundithard,withallthestudiesthatclaimedhisattention,tokeepthewholeofhisgardeningoodorder;andonthissidetherewasanacreortwoof tangled orchard and overgrown busheswhich had been allowed to struggleandsurviveasbest theycould. Itwasexcellentcover.Through it InoiselesslymademywaytillIwaswithinafewyardsofthebacklawnandthetailofthemoonmothhimself.

And then began several hours ofwaiting. Iwaswell concealed, and frombehindsomehigh laurelscouldseeall that tookplaceon the lawn.Fora longtime nothing seemed to happen at all and I began to wonder if Too-Too hadguessedwrong.OnceinawhileI’dseetheDoctor’sheadthroughthewindowsof the house as he passed from one room to another. But finally, somewhereabouthalf-past six,when thesunhaddroppedwelldown to thehorizonandacoolnessintheairspokeofcomingdarkness,JohnDolittleopenedthebackdoorandhurriedoutontothelawn.WithhimwereChee-Chee,PolynesiaandJip.AshecameuptothesideofthemothhewastalkinginaquickbusinesslikewaytoJip.

“I’msorry,”hewassaying.“Ican’t takeyou,Jip.Pleasedon’taskmeanymore.IttakessolongtoexplainandI’veonlyafewminutes.RememberthoselettersI’veleftonthestudytable.There’soneforStubbins,oneforBumpoandoneforMatthew.ShowStubbinswheretheyarewhenhegetsbackandaskhimto explain to every one how sorry I am to rush away in this sudden sort ofmanner without saying goodbye. But I’m so afraid of those townsfolk andnewspaperpeoplecomingbackandstoppingmeifIdon’tgetawaynowwhileIcan.StubbinswilllookaftertheZooandBumpoandMattheweverythingelse.Getthosepackagesoutfromunderthelilacs,Chee-Chee.And,Jip,you’dbettergooffandkeepGub-Gubamusedwhileweslipaway.Isenthimdownintothekitchengardentodigupsomeradishes.”

“Yes, Jip,” put in Polynesia, “for goodness’ sake keep that wretched pigoccupied.IfheknowstheDoctorisleavingfortheMoonhe’llbawlthewholetownaroundusinfiveminutes.Whatabouttheflowers,Doctor?”

“I’ve got them,” I heard the Doctor whisper. “They’re hidden behind theprivethedge.I’llgetthepackagesupfirst,andthenwe’llattendtothem.Wheredid I put that ladder? I wish Chee-Chee would hurry up. Keep an eye open,Polynesia,andletmeknowifyouhearanysound.”

TheDoctorseemedmuchmoreupsetaboutthepossibilityofbeingdisturbedbeforehegotawaythanhewasoverembarkingonthisperilousexpedition.Forme,myheartwasthumpinglikeasledgehammer,forIrealizedthatToo-Toohadbeen right and there was every chance that the flight would be madeimmediately. With the greatest care, lest my movements be detected by thewatchfulPolynesia,IcreptafootortwonearerandmeasuredwithmyeyehowfarI’dhavetospringtogetholdofthedeepfuronthemoth’stail.OnceIhadgotagripIfeltIcouldeasilymanagetohaulmyselfuphisspinetothewiderspacesofhisback.Thesewerenowcoveredbyhisfoldedwings;butIknewthatassoonashetookflight,providedIhangonatthetake-off,Icouldscrambleuplater.

Finding the ladder, theDoctorplaced itagainst thegreat insect’s right sideandclimbedafewrungs.ThenhewaitedtillChee-Cheeemergedfromthelilacswith thepackages inhis arms.These JohnDolittle took fromhimand stowedaway somewhereupon the shoulders—thoughwhatmethodheused to fastenthembyIcouldnotsee.

WhenthiswasdonehecamedownandwithChee-Chee’shelpbroughtthebigmoonflowersoutandstowedthemawayalso.Onehoweverhelaiddowninfrontofthemoth’shead.Thiswasgraspedbytheinsectanddrawninclosebyhistwofrontlegs.

AtlengththeDoctordescendedagainandtookafinallookround.“Isthereanythingwe’veforgotten,Polynesia?”hewhispered.“You’veleftalightburninginthecellar,”saidtheparrot.“No matter,” said the Doctor. “Stubbins or Bumpo will find it. Good! If

we’reallreadywe’llgoaboard.Youfollowmeup,Chee-Chee,andwe’llpushtheladderdownfromthetop.”

4.THESTOWAWAY

JohnDolittlewastednotimeinsentimentalfarewells.Itwasn’thiswayon

ordinary earthly voyages; and one might be sure that his manner would beequallyfreefromtheatricalgestureswhenhewasleavingfortheMoon.AssoonasChee-Cheehadclimbedupbehindhimhethrusttheheadoftheladderawaywithhishandanditfellgentlyintotheshrubbery.Thatthrustwas,asitwere,thebreakingofthelasttiethatboundhimtotheEarth,yethemadeitasthoughheweremerelybrushingoffacrumbfromhiscoat.

As themoth’swings began to lift I knew that themoment had come.Thegreat creaturewas facing down the long sward of the lawn and he had somehundredyardstoriseinbeforehewouldhavetoclearthewillowsatthesouthend. Iwas terriblyanxious. Ididnotknow this insect’sparticular flying form,whether he rose steeply or slantingly, suddenly or slowly. Yet I was terriblyafraidofjumpingtoosoon;foriftheDoctororPolynesiashouldseemeIwouldcertainlygetputoff.ImustnotbediscoveredbeforewewerewellonourwaytotheMoon.

Ifinallyendedbydecidingthatitwasbettertobetoosoonthantoolate.IfIshouldbecaughtand turnedoff Imight still standachanceofpersuading theDoctor to takemeorof stowingawaya second time.But if I jumped too latethentherewasnothingtobesaidordone.

Luckily,bothChee-CheeandPolynesiastartedtalkingattheexactmomentIhitupontospring.ThiscoveredupwhatnoiseImade in leaving the laurels. Iwasingreatfear,asItookholdofhugehandfulsofthemoth’sdeepfur,thattheinsectwouldmakesomecomplainttotheDoctor—withwhom,asfarasIcouldmake out, he had now established pretty complete conversationalcommunicationwithouttheuseofinstrumentsorapparatusofanykind.

Butmyfearswereunnecessary.Iimaginethemothtookmyinvasionofhisfurcoatasmerelysomemorepackingonofbundles.ThehairwassodeepthatIfoundmyselfalmostburied,asIdrewclosertohisbody.Thiswasagoodthing,becausetherewasstillalittletwilightleft;andhadtheDoctororPolynesiacomeasternoftheirflyingshiptomakeafinalinspectionIneedhavenofearofbeingseen.

AndsoIclungexpectingeverymomenttofeelmyfeetleavetheground.I’m sure, on thinking over it afterwards, that not more than five seconds

could have passed from the time that I grasped the moth’s furry coat to themomenthestarted.Butitfeltlikeanhour.

I could just see the outline of the trees and the house-roof against thedarkeningskywhenthosegreatwingsbeattheairforthefirsttime.Thedraughtwasterrificand,despitethecoveringofdeepfurinwhichIwashalfburied,mycapwastornoffmyheadandsentflyingintothelaurelbushesbehind.Therestof what happened was for quite a while entirely confused in my mind. The

sensationofgoingupandup;theneedtoclingoninaveryperilousposition;therushoftheairasthemothgainedspeed,altogethertheexperience,foronewhohadneverknownitbefore,wasbewilderingtosaytheleast.

Iremembervaguelyhopingthattheinsect’shairwasstrongenoughtoholdmyweight,asIsawwewereoverthewillowtops,withahundredfeettospareandstillmounting,mounting!Itrequiredallmycouragenottoscrambleuprightaway to the more level ground of the moth’s back where I could find thecomforting company of theDoctor and Chee-Chee. I admit I felt very lonelybacktherewhenIrealizedwehadactuallylefttheworldbehindandthelightsofPuddlebybegantotwinklesofar—oh,sofar!—belowme.

Upandup,andup!MyheadreeledwhenIlookeddown.SoIdecideditwasbetternottolookdown.Wewereinforitnow,astheschoolboysays,andthemostsensiblethingwastomakethebestwecouldofthesituation.

Ishutmyeyestightandjustheldon.HowlongIremainedsoIcan’tsay—probablyaboutanhour.Then Ibegan to feelcold.Myhandswerenumbwithclutchingtense.Somepartofmyconfusedminddecidedthatthiswasthetimeformetoclimbtothelevelofthemoth’sbackwhereIcouldliedownandrest.GlancingupwardsIsawthatthebigwingswerebeatingtheairwellawayfromthe moth’s body. I need not fear that my ascent would interfere with themachineryofflight.Ikickedmyshoesoffandletthemfallthousandsoffeet—totheEarthwehadleft.Then,graspingasbestIcouldthemoth’shairybodywithhandsandfeet,Istarted.Imustreachlevellyingsoonormystrengthwouldgiveout.

“Ikickedmyshoesoffandletthemfall”IsupposeitwasagoodthingformethatIcouldnotseetheEarthswimming

and disappearing belowme as Imade that crazy climb. It didn’t take so verylong.ButwhenlaterIdidgazedownontheEartharoundballwithlittlelightsstuckalloverit—IrealizedthatImighthavebeenagreatdealmorescaredthanIhadbeen.

I had not found either the Doctor or Chee-Chee yet. For the first fewmomentswhenIfeltIdidn’thavetoclingIwasquitesatisfiedtostretchmyselfoutonthislevelpartofthemoth’sbackandjustrest.IndeedIwassorelyinneedofrepose.Myarmsandhandsweresostifffromclutchingthatthemuscleswerenumbandsore.

Iwasstillsomewhatunhappyaboutspeakingto theDoctor.Afterall Ihaddeliberatelydisobeyedorders.Presently,whenIroseandlookedaboutme,Isawhim.Imadeoutfirsttheshapeofhishighhat,surelythemostabsurdthingthatmortal eyes evermet with in such circumstances. But I don’t remember everhavingcaughtaglimpseofanythingthatwasmorecomfortingandreassuring.Itwas pressedwell down on his head and next to it Chee-Chee’s skull, sharply

ape-like,stoodoutagainsttheblue-greenmoonlitsky.

“NexttoitChee-Chee'sskullstoodoutagainstthemoonlitsky”

Yes, I admit I was verymuch afraid. You see, I had never disobeyed theDoctorbefore.Itistruehewasnosterndisciplinarian.Tome,astoeveryone,hehadalwaysbeenthemosteasy-going,indulgentofemployers.

But this was something new and different. In everything he had been theleaderwhoseorderswereobeyedwithoutquestion.HereforthefirsttimeIhadactedonmyown in amatterof seriousmoment and importance.Whatwouldhappenwhenheknew?

VeryslowlyIcreptstill furtherforwardthroughthemoth’sdeepfur.Then,gently, I touched the Doctor on the shoulder. At themoment he was lookingearthward through his telescope. He started violently as though somesupernaturalhandhadgraspedhim.

“What?—Whoisit?”heasked,peeringbackwardintothegloombehind.

5.THEDOCTOR’SRECEPTION

“ItisI,Doctor,—Stubbins,”Isaid.“Icouldn’tletyougoalone.Igotonatthelastminute.”

“Stubbins!” saidhe, loweringhis telescope. “Stubbins!why, I thoughtyouwereinOxenthorpe.”

“'Stubbins!'saidhe,loweringhistelescope”“Ididn’t go,Doctor,” I said shamefacedly. “I—well, Iwanted to come for

myselfandIdidfeelthatyoushouldn’tbeallowedtomakethetripallalone.”Foramomenttherewassilencebrokenonlybythesteadyhumofthemoth’s

wings.Iwonderedwhatwascoming,whathewouldsayordo.WouldheaskthemothtogobackandlandmeontheEarth?InoticedChee-Chee’sheadturnandinthepalemoonlightasicklygrinofpleasurespreadoverhisscaredfaceasherealizedtherewasmorecompanyonthisperiloustrip.

“Well,” said JohnDolittle at length, andmy heart sank at the cold almoststernringinhisvoicewhichhehadneversofarusedtome,“Idon’tquiteseewhyyoushouldbeginnow,Stubbins, totakeitonyourself toworryaboutmy

safetyand—er—disobeyme.”“I’msorry,”Isaid.“But—”Istoppedsilent.Afteralltherewasn’tanythingmoretobesaid.Foraminute

ortwoIsatwonderinggloomilyifthiswastheendofourrelationship.Itwas,Ihadtoadmit,anenormouslycheekythingthatIhaddone.IsupposeasamatteroffactImightnothaveembarkedonitwithoutToo-Too’ssupport.

Butmyanxiousthoughtswereagreeablyinterrupted.SuddenlyinthegloomtheDoctor’sstrongbighandgrippedmyarminafriendlycomfortinggrasp.

“Just the same,Stubbins,” Iheardhimsay (and in thedark,withoutbeingabletoseeit,Icouldimaginethetypicalsmilethataccompaniedhiswords),“Ican’ttellyouhowgladIamtohaveyouwithme.AttheverymomentwhenyoutouchedmeIwasthinkinghowniceitwouldbeifyouwerehere.Heavensendusluck,Stubbins!Didyoutellyourparentsyouwerecoming?”

“No,”saidI.“Ididn’thaveachance.Therewasnotime.BesidesIwassoafraidthatifIleftthepremises,you’dslipawaywithoutme.”

“Oh, well,” said John Dolittle, “let’s not borrow trouble. No doubt we’llworrythroughallright.”

“Youusuallydo,Doctor,”saidI.“I’mnotafraidsolongasyou’rewithme.”Helaughed.“That’saprettygoodreputationtohave,”saidhe.“IhopeIdeserveit.Look,

youseethatbigpatchoflightsdownthere?”“Yes.”“Well,that’sLondon,”hesaid.“Andthewhitestreakrunningawayfromit

totheeastwardistheRiverThames.ThisbunchoflightsovertothenorthwestisOxford,Iimagine.Look,youcanseethemoonlightreflectedontheriverallthewayupfromLondon.Andthatbigwhiteareaisthesea,theChannel.”

The map of the British Isles was indeed at this height almost completelyrevealed to us. It was a cloudless windless night. And the moth’s flight wassteady, smooth and undisturbed as his great wings purred their way upward,puttinggoodnessonlyknowshowmanymilesbetweenusandPuddlebyeveryminute.

SuddenlyIrealizedthatfrombeingscaredtodeathwiththenewnessofthissituationIwas,asusualwiththeDoctor’scomfortablecompany,acceptingtheadventurewitha calmenjoyable interest. I foundmyself lookingdownon theworldwehadleftbehindandpickingoutgeographicaldetailsasthoughIweremerelygazingfromacoachwindow.

Hehimselfwaslikeachildinhisdelightatthenewexperience.Andhekeptpointing to this and that and tellingmewhat itwas, as our great living flyingmachine lifted us further and further and made more and more of the globe

visible.Butpresentlyhepantedandcoughed.“Air’s getting thin,Stubbins,” he said. “We are approaching the deadbelt.

Mustbecloseontwentythousandfeetaltitudeuphere.Let’sgetthoseflowersoutandfastenthemon.We’vegotoneforallofus,luckily—five.Hulloathere,Polynesia!-AndChee-Chee!Theflowers!RememberwhatItoldyou.Keepyournoseswellintothem.Come,Stubbins:we’llgetthemunstrapped.”

AsImovedinanswertotheDoctor’ssummonsIbecameconsciousmyselfofhowthintheairwas.Theleasteffortmademebreatheheavily.

Somewhere amidships on the moth’s body the flowers had been fasteneddowntoa longbelt thatwentabouthismiddle. I joined theDoctorandChee-Chee in their efforts to get the blossoms loose. The rush of wind made thisdifficult;and in thedimmoonlight I realized thatJohnDolittlewasasking themothtoslowhispacedowntillwehadtheworkdone.AsfarasIcouldmakeout, he did this bymeans of the creature’s antennae. Those longwhisker-likearrangementswerelaiddownflatalongthebackinflightandwithineasyreach.

“Hedidthisbymeansofthecreature'santennae”

ItgavemeamuchgreaterfeelingofsecurityasIsawthat theDoctor thushadhisshipincontrol.Itonlytookhimasecondtocommunicatehiswishestothe insect.And thenwe hovered. The greatwings still beat the airwith giantstrokes.Buttheceasingoftherushofwindpastone’searstoldmethathewasmerelyholdinghispositionand,asitwere,treadingair.

“Allright,Stubbins,”saidtheDoctor,handingmeoneofthegreatblooms,“here’s yours. Chee-Chee, you take this one. And we’ll put this further uptowardstheshouldersforPolynesia.Nowremember,everybody,lifeitselfmaydepend on our keeping these within reach. If you have the least difficulty inbreathingtakeadeepsniffoftheperfume.Laterwe’llprobablyhavetokeepourheadsinsidethemaltogether,whenwereachthelevelswherethereisnoairatall.Iseverybodyready?GettheflowerswelldownintothefursotheyarenotblownawaywhenIgivetheordertogoahead.”

In a moment or two Captain Dolittle was satisfied that his crew wereprepared for the rest of the journey. And reaching for the antennaecommunication-cord,hegavetheorderforfullsteamahead.

Instantlythewingsaboveusredoubledtheirspeedandthewhistleofrushingairrecommenced.

Ifounditnotsoeasynowtolookovertheside,becauseIwasafraidtoleavemy moon flower lest it be blown away. I gave up studying the map of thedisappearingworldandfelltowatchingtheMoonaboveandaheadofus.

6.CROSSING“THEDEADBELT”

Throughout I tried very hard to realize and remember every detail of thatnight’svoyage.ForIknewthat lateron, ifIsurvived,Iwouldwanttowriteitdown. After all it was the great chapter in John Dolittle’s astounding andeventfullife.AlsoIknewthepracticalDoctorwouldneverbothertorememberthosethingsthatwerenotofscientificvaluetotheworld.YetheandIweretheonlyonestoseeitwhocouldwrite—though,asamatteroffact,bothChee-CheeandPolynesiarememberedwhattheywereabletoseebetterthaneitherofus.

Still I must confess for me it was not easy. The moon moth put on hisgreatestspeedwhentheDoctorgavetheordertogoaheadthesecondtime.Thenoise,therushofairpastourears,waspositivelyterrific.Itactuallyseemedtonumb the senses andmake it almost impossible to take in impressions at all.SoonIfoundtheairgettingsothinthatIhadtokeepmyheadalmostconstantlyburied in the blossom; and communication with the Doctor became an

impossibility.Butworsewastocome.Wefinallyreachedthoselevelswheretherewasno

air at all. Then what happened is entirely confused in mymind and, for thatmatter, in theDoctor’s also.Moreover, no amount of questioning of themothafterwardsenlightenedusonhowhehadperformed theapparently impossiblefeatofcrossingthat“deadbelt”fromwheretheairoftheEarthleftoffandtheatmosphereof theMoonbegan. I came to the conclusion at last that thegiantinsectdidnothimselfknowhowthedeedwasdone.Butofcourseitmayverywellhavebeenthatthemoth’slackofscientificknowledgeandJohnDolittle’sfaultyacquaintance(goodthoughitwasinthecircumstances)withtheinsect’slanguage, accounted between them for our never learning how an apparentimpossibilityhadbeenovercome.

It is indeednowonder thatwe, thepassengerson this strangeairship, sawandrealizedlittleenoughofwhatwastakingplaceduringthatphase.AswegotfurtherandfurtherintothepartstheDoctorhaddescribedasthedeadbelt, themoth’spaceslackenedtillhewashardlymovingatall.Hekeptworking,infacthis great wings beat harder and faster. But the trouble was, that there wasnothing there forhim tobeatagainst.Andsoon thegravityof theEarth itself,whichwaswhathereliedupontomaintainhisposition,seemedtogrowfainter.

Theresultofthiswasthatourflyingshipseemedentirelytolosehissenseofbalance;andwe,thepassengers,allgotdesperatelyseasick.Forhours,asfarasIcouldmakeout, thegreatcreature turnedoverandover,apparentlyhelpless toget himself into any kind of position at all, utterly unable to go up, down,forwardorbackward.

“Forhoursandhoursthegreatcreatureturnedoverandover,apparentlyhelpless”

For our part,wewere occupiedwith only one thing; and thatwasmakingsurewegotenoughoxygenintoourlungstogoonbreathing.Wehardlydarednowtobringournosesoutof the flowers formore thanaglimpse.Therewasvery little toseeanyway.TheMoonappeared tohavegrownmuchlarger;andtheEarthwasjustatinyroundpebbleaway,awayoffinspace.

Onecuriousthingwasthatwenowhadtomakeverylittleefforttostickon.It didn’t seem to matter a great deal whether our heads or our heels werepointingtotheEarth.Theforceofthegravitywassofaintitseemedyoucouldstayclingingtothemoth’sfuraslongasyoudidnotactuallypushyourselfoff.Andevenifyoudidthatyoufeltyouwouldmerelymoveawayafewyardsintospaceandstaythere.

Wedidnothowever,youmaybesure,tryanyexperimentsofthiskind.Wejust sat tight, breathed in the perfume of the flowers and hoped for the best.NeverhaveIfeltsoillandhelplessinallmylife.Thesensationwassomethingquite indescribable. It was as though gravity itself had been cut off and yet

enoughofitremainingtomakeyoufeelqueerinyourstomacheverytimeyouwentround.FinallyIjustshutmyeyes.Mynosewasbleedinglikearunningtapandtherewasadreadfuldrumminginmyears.

Howlongwestayedwallowing there inspaceIhaveno idea. I feltasonesometimesdoesinbadweatheratsea,asthoughtheendoftheworldhadcomeandthatitdidn’treallymattersolongasithurriedupandgotfinishedwiththejob. I wasn’t interested in anything. I just wanted to die—and the sooner thebetter.

At last, afterwhat appeared like eternities of this helpless, aimless turningand tossing, our craft seemed to calm itself somewhat and I openedmy eyes.Withdrawingmyheadalittlefromthedepthsofthemoonflower,Itookapeepoutside. I couldnot look longbecause the lackof airmade that impossible. Itwasalmostasthoughsomeonewereholdinghishandoveryourmouthandnose—avery curious sensation in theopen.But before I duckedmyhead into theflower again I bad from that short survey of my surroundings drawn greatcomfort.IhadseenthatthepositionsoftheEarthandMoonwerenowreversed.Theworldwe had leftwasover our heads, and theMoon, towhichwewerecoming,wasbeneathus.

“Itookapeepoutside”Ofcourse thisonlymeant thatourmothhad turnedhimselfaboutandwas

headed towards the Moon, instead of away from the Earth. But, much moreimportant than this, I realized that he now seemed steadied in his flight.And,whilehestillhadonlyapooratmospheretoworkin,hewasgoingforwardandwasnolongerturningaroundhelplessandoutofcontrol.AsIpoppedmyheadback into themoon flower I congratulatedmyself that the worst stage of thejourneywas probably over and that very soonwe should for the first time inhumanexperiencebeabletofeelandbreathetheatmosphereofthemoonworld.

Alsowithourshiponcemoreincontrolandflyingforwardonalevelkeel,Isuddenly found that I feltmuchbetter inside. Icouldopenmyeyesand think,withoutfeelingthattheendofallthingswasathand.IwonderedhowtheDoctorand Chee-Chee were getting on; but as yet of course I could not get intocommunicationwiththem.

LittlebylittleIfeltthegravityoftheMoonassertingitself.Atnotimediditbecome nearly as strong as the Earth’s, which we had left. But you cannotimaginewhat a sensation of comfort itwas to be held by gravity at all. That

feeling—happilypast—thatyouweretiedtonothing;thattherewasno“up”andno“down”andno“sideways”;thatifyougotuptoosuddenlyyoumightnevergetseatedagain,whichweexperiencedgoingthroughthedeadbeltwas,beyondallquestion,themostterribleexperienceIhaveeverknown.

Mysenseoftimeonthisexpeditionwasjustascompletelydestroyedasmysense of direction and, indeed, of anything else. Later when communicationbecameeasier I asked theDoctorhow longhe thoughtwehad takenover thetrip.Hetoldmethatduringthepassageofthedeadbelthiswatchhadstopped.Gravity—or the lackof itagain—wesupposedaccounted for it.And that laterwhenwe gotwithin theMoon’s influence andwere steadily, if feebly, pulledtowardsher surface,hiswatchhadstarted itselfagain.Buthowmanyhours ithadremainedwithoutworkinghecouldnotsay.

Hetoldmethatprobablyourbestinstrumentforreckoninghowlongwehadbeen on the voyage was our stomachs. Certainly we were both desperatelyhungry shortly after we had passed the dead belt. But since we had all beenseasickformanyhours,thatisnottobewonderedat;anditdidnothelpusmuchindetermininghowlongwehadtakenoverthetrip.

TheDoctoralso laterwent into longcalculationsabout the light:when theEarthwasilluminedbysunlight;whenitgrewdark;whentheMoonceasedtoshow sunlight and began to show earthlight, etc., etc. He covered pages andpages,calculating.Butthefactremainedthatduringthepassageofthatdreadfuldeadbeltwehadallbeensoillandconfusedthatnoobservationshadbeentakenatall.TheMoonmighthavesetandtheSunrisenandtheEarthbothrisenandsetadozentimes,withoutanyofourpartyknowingthedifference.Allweweresure of was that the Doctor’s watch had stopped going as we passed beyondearthlygravityandrecommencedwhenwecamewithinlunargravity.

Moreover,withtheweakerstrengthofthelunargravity,hiswatchprobablywentatanentirelynewrateofspeedafterweleftearthlyinfluence.So,allinall,ourcalculationsonthetripwerenotofmuchexactscientificvalue.Seasicknessisanastything.

FromthetimethatItookthatfirstglimpseoutofmymoonflowerIbegantokeepamuchmoredefiniterecordofwhatwashappening.AsthemoonairgrewstrongerIfeltmoreandmoremyself.Itwasn’tthesameasearthair.Therewasnoquestion about that. Itwasmuchmore,what shouldone call it?—“heady.”Thisapparentlywasbecauseitcontainedmoreoxygenthanoursdid.

Icouldsee,aspresentlyIgrewbolderandtookmorefrequentglimpses,thatboth John Dolittle and Chee-Chee were also picking up and generally takingnotice.Polynesia, I foundout afterwards,was the only onewhohadnot beenbadlydisturbedbythedeadbelt.Swirlinginmid-airwastoher,asitwastoall

the flying creatures, mere child’s play. If she had only been scientificallyeducatedshecouldhavetoldushowlongwehadtakenoverthetrip.Buttheoldparrothadalwayshadacuriouscontempt forhumanscience,maintaining thatManwent to awhole lot of unnecessary trouble to calculate things that birdsknewbycommonsense,justassoonastheywereborn.

After a little the Doctor and I began to exchange signals.We did not yetattempt to leaveourplacesaswestill feltabitunsteadyonour legs.But, likeseasickpassengersinships’deck-chairs,wesmiledencouraginglyatoneanotherandendeavouredtoshowbygesturesandsignsthatwethoughttheworstoftheweatherwasover.

7.THETWOSIDESOFTHEMOON

InoneofthesepassagesofdeafanddumbconversationbetweentheDoctorandmyself,Igottheimpressionthathewasmakingremarksaboutthequalityofthemoonaironwhichwewerenowbeingcarried.Therewasnodoubt that itwaschangingatenormousrate.FindinganythingoutsidemyflowerthatIcouldbreatheinatall,Iwasbecomingquiteadventurousandindependent.Ievenwentso far as to leave the flower entirely and walk, or crawl, down to where theDoctor squatted. But a violent attack of coughing just as I was about to saysomethingtohimmademebeatahastyretreat.

“Still,”IsaidtomyselfasIdroppeddownwithmyheadinmyownblossom,“itissomethingtohavegottohim.BacktherealittlewhileagoIfeltasthoughIcouldneverseeorgettoanyoneanymore.”

PresentlytheDoctorpaidmeaflyingvisit.Hetoohadtomakeitshort.Butwehadthesatisfactionoffeelingthatwewereincontact.Wehadnotbeensureuptothisthatwecouldhearoneanother’svoicesinmoonair.TheDoctorhadoften spoken in Puddleby,when the voyage had first been contemplated, of adangerfromthissource.

“Theether,”hehadsaid,“iswhatcarriessoundwithushereon theEarth.Wecanbynomeansbesurethatuptheretherewillbeanyetheratall.Ifthereisn’t,ordinaryspeechwillbeimpossible.”

Andwith this inmindhehadperfectedbetweenhimself andChee-Chee akind of deaf-and-dumb sign language. Too-Too had toldme of this and I hadsecretlywatchedtheirpracticeandgainedsomeknowledgeofthesystem.

Soyoucan imaginehowgladwewere to find thatupherealso therewasetherwhichcouldcarryourvoices.Wefoundpresentlyhoweverthat itcarried

themmuchmoreeasilythanitdidontheEarth.AsweapproachedtheMoonanditsnewatmospherebecamemoreapparent,wefoundthatwehadtospeaklowerandlower.Itwasverypeculiar.Finally,ifwedidnotwanttobreakoneanother’seardrumswehadtotalkinthefaintestwhispers—whichcouldbeheardatquitealongdistance.

Anotherverypeculiarthingwasthelight.TheDoctorandIhadthelongestargumentslaterontryingtosettlewhetherwelandedontheMoonbyearthlightorbysunlight. Itwouldat firstseemofcourse that therecouldbenoquestionwhateveronsuchapoint.OnewouldsupposethatontheMoonearthlightwouldbevery little stronger thanmoonlight on theEarth;while sunlightwouldbe ahundredtimesasbrilliant.Butnotatall.Somethingaboutthelunaratmosphereseemed to soften the sunlight down so that up there it appeared very littlestrongerthanthelightthrownbytheEarthThishadaverypeculiaranddefiniteeffectuponcolours.

Presentlyasthemoongravitybecamestronger,theDoctorandIwereabletogetupfromourlyingpositions.Westillcarriedourflowerswithussothatwecouldtakea“whiff”everyonceinawhileifwefeltweneededit.Butwecouldtalk together in low tonesand, ina fashion,makeobservations. Itwasn’t longafter we thus “came to life” that John Dolittle asked the moth through hisantennae communication-cord to slow his pace down a little. We felt that itwouldbeeasierforusifwegotusedtothismoonairslowly.Itcertainlyhadaveryinvigoratingandexcitingeffectuponthehumansystem.

Another point overwhich theDoctor and I argued a great deal afterwardswas:onwhichsideof theMoondidweland?Theearthpeoplehave,aseveryone knows, only seen one side of theMoon.Maps and careful examinationshavebeenmadeofthat.Now,inspiteofbringingwithusthelatestmoon-maps,itwasnoteasytodecideonwhichsidewewerelanding.Closeto,themountainslookedverydifferentfromwhattheydidthroughthetelescopefromtheEarth.Ialwaysmaintained—anddostill—that themothdeliberatelywent round to thefarsidebeforeheattemptedtomakealanding.TheDoctorswearshedidn’t.

HowcanIdescribethelastmomentsofthatvoyage?TosaythatIfelt likeColumbus first sighting a new world does not convey the idea at all. I mustadmit Iwas scared todeath.Andso, Iknow,waspoorChee-Chee.As for theDoctorandPolynesia,Ican’tsay.Idon’tbelievethathardenedoldadventurerofa parrot ever got a real scare in her life.With Polynesia one always had thefeeling that shedictated toLife, insteadofhavingLifedictate toher.But thatmayhavebeenpartlyduetoherlookofcompleteindependence.

TheDoctor?—Well, I doubt if hewas scared either.Hehadoften toldmethat hehadmany timesbeenmortally afraid in the courseof his career.But I

imagine it was never at moments such as this, when the lure of scientificdiscoveryshutouteveryotherfeeling.

That he was thrilled it is certain. Even the tough worldly-wise Polynesiaadmittedafterwardsthatshehadthethrillofherlifewhenthedroningwingsofthegiantmothsuddenlyshutoff theirmightybeatingandstiffenedout flat,aswe began to sail downward towards the surface of this new world which noearthlycreaturehadyetsetfootuponbefore.

8.THETREE

Imustherespeakagainofthisquestionoflight.Atnotime,asIhavesaid,wasitverypowerful.Andoneofitseffectswastosoftenthecoloursinaverypeculiarway.Aswedescendedwefound that theMoonhadawhole rangeofcoloursofitsownwhichwehadneverseenontheEarth.Icannotdescribethembecause the human eye, being trained only to the colours of theEarth,wouldhavenothingtocompare themwithandnowayof imaginingthem.ThebestIcandoistosaythatthelandscape,asweslowlydescendeduponit,lookedlikesomeeveninglandscapedoneinpastels—withatremendousvarietyofsoftnewtoneswhichbecamemoreandmorevisiblethecloserwegot.

IthinktherecanbenoquestionthattheDoctorandIwerebothmoreorlessright in our argument about which side of theMoon we landed on. In otherwords,we landedbetween the two. Iknowthat lookingbackwardaswecamedownIsawthatboththeEarthandtheSunwerevisible.TheEarthpaleanddimintheheavens—asoneseestheMoonoftenbydaylight—andtheSunbrighterbutbynomeansasglaringasitappearswhenseenfromtheEarth.

Wewerestillatagreatheight fromthesurface.Butalready the roundnesswasbeginningtofadeoutoftheeye’sgraspanddetailsweretakingongreaterimportance. The Doctor, after again asking the moth to make the descent asslowly as he could, so that we should have a chance to grow graduallyaccustomedtothenewair,hadhistelescopeoutandwasverybusypointingtothis crater and that mountain and the other plateau as features which werealreadyknowntousfromtheastronomers’moonmaps.

“TheDoctorhadhistelescopeout”Fromacertainheightitwaseasytoseethenight-and-dayline,onoursideof

whichtheMoon’ssurfacewasonlydimlylitbytheEarth’spalelight,andontheothermorebrilliantlyilluminatedbytheraysoftheSun.

OfcourseIsupposeanyonetryingtolandontheMoonbymechanicalmeanscouldquiteeasilyhave losthissensesand life itself in theattempt.Butwithaliving airship which could accommodate itself to one’s needs we had atremendous advantage. For example, as we dropped lower and found the airmore difficult to deal with, the Doctor again grasped the antennaecommunication-cord and asked the moth to hover a few hours while we gotaccustomed to it. The great insect immediately responded to this demand andhungmotionlessinmid-airwhilewepreparedourselvesforthefinaldescent.

CaptainDolittlethencalledtherollofhiscrewandfoundthatwewereallatleast aliveandkicking—also terriblyhungry.Sandwichesanddrinkshadbeenputaboardbeforeweleft.Butthesewerelongsinceusedup.Ihaveneverfeltsohungryinmylife.

Over that last lap of the descent we took a long time. With the

communication-cordconstantlyinhishand,theDoctorapproachedtheMoonathisownpace.Thenight-and-daylinemovedofcourseveryrapidly.Moreover,howmuchofthatwasconfusedwithourownmovement(wedidnotdescendina straight line by any means) it is hard to say. This accounts largely for thedifferenceofopinionbetweenJohnDolittleandmyselfas towhichsideofthesurfacewe actually landed on. Close up, the details of all themoonmaps nolongermeantmuch,becausethosedetailswhichwehadseenthroughtelescopesasmerefractionsofaninchwerenowbecomemountainsandcontinents.

Isupposethegreatestanxietyinthemindsofallofuswaswater.WouldwefinditontheMoon?Mooncreaturesmightexistwithoutit:butwemustperishifitwasnotthere.

Lower and lower in circles slowlywe sank.At first prospects lookedveryblue.Thelandscape,ormoonscape,immediatelybeneathuswasall,itseemed,volcanoes,oldcratersandnewcraters—mileuponmile.

Buttowardsthatnight-and-daylinewhichshowedroundtheglobeweturnedhopefuleyes.

I have seen the Doctor enthusiastic many times—when for example hediscoveredsomethingnewinanyofhisunnumberedbranchesofnaturalhistoryresearch.ButIneverrememberhisgettingsoexcitedashedidwhenwatchingthatever-movingday-and-night lineonourslowdescent,hesuddenlygrabbedmebytheshoulder.Forgettingforthemomenthowthemoonatmospherecarriedsound,henearlydeafenedmewithwith—

“Stubbins, look!—A tree! You see that, way over there at the foot of themountain? I’ll swear it’s a tree. And if it is, we’re all right. It means water,Stubbins,Water!Andwecanmanagetoexisthere.—WaterandLife!”

(Endpapers)

TheEnd