The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle (28 page)

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

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

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

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

"Look here, you fellows," said she: "we've simply got to get the Doctor
to take this holiday somehow—unless we're willing to stay in this
blessed island for the rest of our lives."

"But what difference," Bumpo asked, "is his taking a holiday going to
make?"

Impatiently Polynesia turned upon the Minister of the Interior.

"Don't you see? If he has a clear week to get thoroughly interested in
his natural history again—marine stuff, his dream of seeing the floor
of the ocean and all that—there may be some chance of his consenting
to leave this pesky place. But while he is here on duty as king he
never gets a moment to think of anything outside of the business of
government."

"Yes, that's true. He's far too consententious Bumpo agreed.

"And besides," Polynesia went on, "his only hope of ever getting away
from here would be to escape secretly. He's got to leave while he is
holiday-making, incognito—when no one knows where he is or what he's
doing, but us. If he built a ship big enough to cross the sea in, all
the Indians would see it, and hear it, being built; and they'd ask what
it was for. They would interfere. They'd sooner have anything happen
than lose the Doctor. Why, I believe if they thought he had any idea of
escaping they would put chains on him."

"Yes, I really think they would," I agreed. "Yet without a ship of some
kind I don't see how the Doctor is going to get away, even secretly."

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

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

"Certainly," said Polynesia, "a little trip like that is nothing to him.
He would crawl along the floor of the ocean and the Doctor could see all
the sights. Perfectly simple. Oh, John Dolittle will come all right, if
we can only get him to take that holiday—AND if the snail will consent
to give us the ride."

"Golly, I hope he does!" sighed Jip. "I'm sick of these beastly
tropics—they make you feel so lazy and good-for-nothing. And there are
no rats or anything here—not that a fellow would have the energy to
chase 'em even if there were. My, wouldn't I be glad to see old Puddleby
and the garden again! And won't Dab-Dab be glad to have us back!"

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

"And got stuck on the mud-bank," added Chee-Chee in a dreamy, far-away
voice.

"Do you remember how all the people waved to us from the river-wall?" I
asked.

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

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

WELL, you can guess how glad we were when next morning the Doctor, after
his all-night conversation with the snail, told us that he had made up
his mind to take the holiday. A proclamation was published right away
by the Town Crier that His Majesty was going into the country for
a seven-day rest, but that during his absence the palace and the
government offices would be kept open as usual.

Polynesia was immensely pleased. She at once set quietly to work making
arrangements for our departure—taking good care the while that no one
should get an inkling of where we were going, what we were taking with
us, the hour of our leaving or which of the palace-gates we would go out
by.

Cunning old schemer that she was, she forgot nothing. And not even we,
who were of the Doctor's party, could imagine what reasons she had for
some of her preparations. She took me inside and told me that the
one thing I must remember to bring with me was ALL of the Doctor's
note-books. Long Arrow, who was the only Indian let into the secret of
our destination, said he would like to come with us as far as the beach
to see the Great Snail; and him Polynesia told to be sure and bring
his collection of plants. Bumpo she ordered to carry the Doctor's
high hat—carefully hidden under his coat. She sent off nearly all the
footmen who were on night duty to do errands in the town, so that there
should be as few servants as possible to see us leave. And midnight, the
hour when most of the towns-people would be asleep, she finally chose
for our departure.

We had to take a week's food-supply with us for the royal holiday.
So, with our other packages, we were heavy laden when on the stroke of
twelve we opened the west door of the palace and stepped cautiously and
quietly into the moonlit garden.

"Tiptoe incognito," whispered Bumpo as we gently closed the heavy doors
behind us.

No one had seen us leave.

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

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

The porpoises (who are by nature inquisitive creatures) were still
hanging about in the offing to see if anything of interest was going to
happen. Polynesia, the plotter, while the Doctor was occupied with his
new patient, signaled to them and drew them aside for a little private
chat.

"Now see here, my friends," said she speaking low: "you know how much
John Dolittle has done for the animals—given his whole life up to
them, one might say. Well, here is your chance to do something for him.
Listen: he got made king of this island against his will, see? And now
that he has taken the job on, he feels that he can't leave it—thinks
the Indians won't be able to get along without him and all that—which
is nonsense, as you and I very well know. All right. Then here's the
point: if this snail were only willing to take him and us—and a little
baggage—not very much, thirty or forty pieces, say—inside his shell
and carry us to England, we feel sure that the Doctor would go; because
he's just crazy to mess about on the floor of the ocean. What's more
this would be his one and only chance of escape from the island. Now it
is highly important that the Doctor return to his own country to carry
on his proper work which means such a lot to the animals of the world.
So what we want you to do is to tell the sea-urchin to tell the starfish
to tell the snail to take us in his shell and carry us to Puddleby
River. Is that plain?"

"Quite, quite," said the porpoises. "And we will willingly do our very
best to persuade him—for it is, as you say, a perfect shame for the
great man to be wasting his time here when he is so much needed by the
animals."

"And don't let the Doctor know what you're about," said Polynesia as
they started to move off. "He might balk if he thought we had any hand
in it. Get the snail to offer on his own account to take us. See?"

John Dolittle, unaware of anything save the work he was engaged on, was
standing knee-deep in the shallow water, helping the snail try out his
mended tail to see if it were well enough to travel on. Bumpo and Long
Arrow, with Chee-Chee and Jip, were lolling at the foot of a palm a
little way up the beach. Polynesia and I now went and joined them. Half
an hour passed.

What success the porpoises had met with, we did not know, till suddenly
the Doctor left the snail's side and came splashing out to us, quite
breathless.

"What do you think?" he cried, "while I was talking to the snail just
now he offered, of his own accord, to take us all back to England inside
his shell. He says he has got to go on a voyage of discovery anyway, to
hunt up a new home, now that the Deep Hole is closed. Said it wouldn't
be much out of his way to drop us at Puddleby River, if we cared to come
along—Goodness, what a chance! I'd love to go. To examine the floor of
the ocean all the way from Brazil to Europe! No man ever did it before.
What a glorious trip!—Oh that I had never allowed myself to be made
king! Now I must see the chance of a lifetime slip by."

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

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

"Now Doctor," said she in a soft persuasive voice as though she were
talking to a wayward child, "you know this king business is not your
real work in life. These natives will be able to get along without
you—not so well as they do with you of course—but they'll manage—the
same as they did before you came. Nobody can say you haven't done your
duty by them. It was their fault: they made you king. Why not accept the
snail's offer; and just drop everything now, and go? The work you'll do,
the information you'll carry home, will be of far more value than what
you're doing here."

"Good friend," said the Doctor turning to her sadly, "I cannot. They
would go back to their old unsanitary ways: bad water, uncooked fish,
no drainage, enteric fever and the rest.... No. I must think of their
health, their welfare. I began life as a people's doctor: I seem to
have come back to it in the end. I cannot desert them. Later perhaps
something will turn up. But I cannot leave them now."

"That's where you're wrong, Doctor," said she. "Now is when you should
go. Nothing will 'turn up.' The longer you stay, the harder it will be
to leave—Go now. Go to-night."

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

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

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

"But there are the note-books," he said presently: "I would have to go
back to fetch them."

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

Again he pondered.

"And Long Arrow's collection," he said. "I would have to take that also
with me."

"It is here, Oh Kindly One," came the Indian's deep voice from the
shadow beneath the palm.

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

"We have a week's supply with us, for our holiday," said
Polynesia—"that's more than we will need."

For a third time the Doctor was silent and thoughtful.

"And then there's my hat," he said fretfully at last. "That settles it:
I'll HAVE to go back to the palace. I can't leave without my hat. How
could I appear in Puddleby with this crown on my head?"

"Here it is, Doctor," said Bumpo producing the hat, old, battered
and beloved, from under his coat. Polynesia had indeed thought of
everything.

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

"Oh Kindly One," said Long Arrow, "why tempt ill fortune? Your way is
clear. Your future and your work beckon you back to your foreign home
beyond the sea. With you will go also what lore I too have gathered for
mankind—to lands where it will be of wider use than it can ever here.
I see the glimmerings of dawn in the eastern heaven. Day is at hand. Go
before your subjects are abroad. Go before your project is discovered.
For truly I believe that if you go not now you will linger the remainder
of your days a captive king in Popsipetel."

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

And when he spoke his voice was choked with tears.

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