The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle (2 page)

"Where does he live?" I asked.

"Over on the Oxenthorpe Road, t'other side the town. Don't know just
which house it is, but 'most anyone 'cross there could tell you, I
reckon. Go and see him. He's a great man."

So I thanked the mussel-man, took up my squirrel again and started oft
towards the Oxenthorpe Road.

The first thing I heard as I came into the marketplace was some one
calling "Meat! M-E-A-T!"

"There's Matthew Mugg," I said to myself. "He'll know where this Doctor
lives. Matthew knows everyone."

So I hurried across the market-place and caught him up.

"Matthew," I said, "do you know Doctor Dolittle?"

"Do I know John Dolittle!" said he. "Well, I should think I do! I know
him as well as I know my own wife—better, I sometimes think. He's a
great man—a very great man."

"Can you show me where he lives?" I asked. "I want to take this squirrel
to him. It has a broken leg."

"Certainly," said the cat's-meat-man. "I'll be going right by his house
directly. Come along and I'll show you."

So off we went together.

"Oh, I've known John Dolittle for years and years," said Matthew as we
made our way out of the market-place. "But I'm pretty sure he ain't home
just now. He's away on a voyage. But he's liable to be back any day.
I'll show you his house and then you'll know where to find him."

All the way down the Oxenthorpe Road Matthew hardly stopped talking
about his great friend, Doctor John Dolittle—"M. D." He talked so much
that he forgot all about calling out "Meat!" until we both suddenly
noticed that we had a whole procession of dogs following us patiently.

"Where did the Doctor go to on this voyage?" I asked as Matthew handed
round the meat to them.

"I couldn't tell you," he answered. "Nobody never knows where he goes,
nor when he's going, nor when he's coming back. He lives all alone
except for his pets. He's made some great voyages and some wonderful
discoveries. Last time he came back he told me he'd found a tribe of
Red Indians in the Pacific Ocean—lived on two islands, they did. The
husbands lived on one island and the wives lived on the other. Sensible
people, some of them savages. They only met once a year, when the
husbands came over to visit the wives for a great feast—Christmas-time,
most likely. Yes, he's a wonderful man is the Doctor. And as for
animals, well, there ain't no one knows as much about 'em as what he
does."

"How did he get to know so much about animals?" I asked.

The cat's-meat-man stopped and leant down to whisper in my ear.

"HE TALKS THEIR LANGUAGE," he said in a hoarse, mysterious voice.

"The animals' language?" I cried.

"Why certainly," said Matthew. "All animals have some kind of a
language. Some sorts talk more than others; some only speak in
sign-language, like deaf-and-dumb. But the Doctor, he understands them
all—birds as well as animals. We keep it a secret though, him and me,
because folks only laugh at you when you speak of it. Why, he can
even write animal-language. He reads aloud to his pets. He's wrote
history-books in monkey-talk, poetry in canary language and comic songs
for magpies to sing. It's a fact. He's now busy learning the language
of the shellfish. But he says it's hard work—and he has caught some
terrible colds, holding his head under water so much. He's a great man."

"He certainly must be," I said. "I do wish he were home so I could meet
him."

"Well, there's his house, look," said the cat's, meat-man—"that little
one at the bend in the road there—the one high up—like it was sitting
on the wall above the street."

We were now come beyond the edge of the town. And the house that Matthew
pointed out was quite a small one standing by itself. There seemed to be
a big garden around it; and this garden was much higher than the road,
so you had to go up a flight of steps in the wall before you reached the
front gate at the top. I could see that there were many fine fruit trees
in the garden, for their branches hung down over the wall in places. But
the wall was so high I could not see anything else.

When we reached the house Matthew went up the steps to the front gate
and I followed him. I thought he was going to go into the garden; but
the gate was locked. A dog came running down from the house; and he took
several pieces of meat which the cat's-meat-man pushed through the bars
of the gate, and some paper bags full of corn and bran, I noticed that
this dog did not stop to eat the meat, as any ordinary dog would have
done, but he took all the things back to the house and disappeared. He
had a curious wide collar round his neck which looked as though it were
made of brass or something. Then we came away.

"The Doctor isn't back yet," said Matthew, "or the gate wouldn't be
locked."

"What were all those things in paper-bags you gave the dog?" I asked.

"Oh, those were provisions," said Matthew—"things for the animals to
eat. The Doctor's house is simply full of pets. I give the things to
the dog, while the Doctor's away, and the dog gives them to the other
animals."

"And what was that curious collar he was wearing round his neck?"

"That's a solid gold dog-collar," said Matthew. "It was given to him
when he was with the Doctor on one of his voyages long ago. He saved a
man's life."

"How long has the Doctor had him?" I asked.

"Oh, a long time. Jip's getting pretty old now. That's why the Doctor
doesn't take him on his voyages any more. He leaves him behind to take
care of the house. Every Monday and Thursday I bring the food to the
gate here and give it him through the bars. He never lets any one come
inside the garden while the Doctor's away—not even me, though he knows
me well. But you'll always be able to tell if the Doctor's back or
not—because if he is, the gate will surely be open."

So I went off home to my father's house and put my squirrel to bed in
an old wooden box full of straw. And there I nursed him myself and took
care of him as best I could till the time should come when the Doctor
would return. And every day I went to the little house with the big
garden on the edge of the town and tried the gate to see if it were
locked. Sometimes the dog, Jip, would come down to the gate to meet me.
But though he always wagged his tail and seemed glad to see me, he never
let me come inside the garden.

ONE Monday afternoon towards the end of April my father asked me to take
some shoes which he had mended to a house on the other side of the town.
They were for a Colonel Bellowes who was very particular.

I found the house and rang the bell at the front door. The Colonel
opened it, stuck out a very red face and said, "Go round to the
tradesmen's entrance—go to the back door." Then he slammed the door
shut.

I felt inclined to throw the shoes into the middle of his flower-bed.
But I thought my father might be angry, so I didn't. I went round to the
back door, and there the Colonel's wife met me and took the shoes from
me. She looked a timid little woman and had her hands all over flour as
though she were making bread. She seemed to be terribly afraid of her
husband whom I could still hear stumping round the house somewhere,
grunting indignantly because I had come to the front door. Then she
asked me in a whisper if I would have a bun and a glass of milk. And I
said, "Yes, please." After I had eaten the bun and milk, I thanked the
Colonel's wife and came away. Then I thought that before I went home
I would go and see if the Doctor had come back yet. I had been to his
house once already that morning. But I thought I'd just like to go
and take another look. My squirrel wasn't getting any better and I was
beginning to be worried about him.

So I turned into the Oxenthorpe Road and started off towards the
Doctor's house. On the way I noticed that the sky was clouding over and
that it looked as though it might rain.

I reached the gate and found it still locked. I felt very discouraged. I
had been coming here every day for a week now. The dog, Jip, came to
the gate and wagged his tail as usual, and then sat down and watched me
closely to see that I didn't get in.

I began to fear that my squirrel would die before the Doctor came back.
I turned away sadly, went down the steps on to the road and turned
towards home again.

I wondered if it were supper-time yet. Of course I had no watch of my
own, but I noticed a gentleman coming towards me down the road; and
when he got nearer I saw it was the Colonel out for a walk. He was all
wrapped up in smart overcoats and mufflers and bright-colored gloves. It
was not a very cold day but he had so many clothes on he looked like a
pillow inside a roll of blankets. I asked him if he would please tell me
the time.

He stopped, grunted and glared down at me—his red face growing redder
still; and when he spoke it sounded like the cork coming out of a
gingerbeer-bottle.

"Do you imagine for one moment," he spluttered, "that I am going to get
myself all unbuttoned just to tell a little boy like you THE TIME!" And
he went stumping down the street, grunting harder than ever.

I stood still a moment looking after him and wondering how old I would
have to be, to have him go to the trouble of getting his watch out. And
then, all of a sudden, the rain came down in torrents.

I have never seen it rain so hard. It got dark, almost like night. The
wind began to blow; the thunder rolled; the lightning flashed, and in a
moment the gutters of the road were flowing like a river. There was no
place handy to take shelter, so I put my head down against the driving
wind and started to run towards home.

I hadn't gone very far when my head bumped into something soft and I sat
down suddenly on the pavement. I looked up to see whom I had run into.
And there in front of me, sitting on the wet pavement like myself, was a
little round man with a very kind face. He wore a shabby high hat and in
his hand he had a small black bag.

"I'm very sorry," I said. "I had my head down and I didn't see you
coming."

To my great surprise, instead of getting angry at being knocked down,
the little man began to laugh.

"You know this reminds me," he said, "of a time once when I was in
India. I ran full tilt into a woman in a thunderstorm. But she was
carrying a pitcher of molasses on her head and I had treacle in my hair
for weeks afterwards—the flies followed me everywhere. I didn't hurt
you, did I?"

"No," I said. "I'm all right."

"It was just as much my fault as it was yours, you know," said the
little man. "I had my head down too—but look here, we mustn't sit
talking like this. You must be soaked. I know I am. How far have you got
to go?"

"My home is on the other side of the town," I said, as we picked
ourselves up.

"My Goodness, but that was a wet pavement!" said he. "And I declare it's
coming down worse than ever. Come along to my house and get dried. A
storm like this can't last."

He took hold of my hand and we started running back down the road
together. As we ran I began to wonder who this funny little man could
be, and where he lived. I was a perfect stranger to him, and yet he was
taking me to his own home to get dried. Such a change, after the old
red-faced Colonel who had refused even to tell me the time! Presently we
stopped.

"Here we are," he said.

I looked up to see where we were and found myself back at the foot of
the steps leading to the little house with the big garden! My new friend
was already running up the steps and opening the gate with some keys he
took from his pocket.

"Surely," I thought, "this cannot be the great Doctor Dolittle himself!"

I suppose after hearing so much about him I had expected some one very
tall and strong and marvelous. It was hard to believe that this funny
little man with the kind smiling face could be really he. Yet here he
was, sure enough, running up the steps and opening the very gate which I
had been watching for so many days!

The dog, Jip, came rushing out and started jumping up on him and barking
with happiness. The rain was splashing down heavier than ever.

"Are you Doctor Dolittle?" I shouted as we sped up the short garden-path
to the house.

"Yes, I'm Doctor Dolittle," said he, opening the front door with the
same bunch of keys. "Get in! Don't bother about wiping your feet. Never
mind the mud. Take it in with you. Get in out of the rain!"

I popped in, he and Jip following. Then he slammed the door to behind
us.

The storm had made it dark enough outside; but inside the house,
with the door closed, it was as black as night. Then began the most
extraordinary noise that I have ever heard. It sounded like all sorts
and kinds of animals and birds calling and squeaking and screeching
at the same time. I could hear things trundling down the stairs and
hurrying along passages. Somewhere in the dark a duck was quacking,
a cock was crowing, a dove was cooing, an owl was hooting, a lamb was
bleating and Jip was barking. I felt birds' wings fluttering and fanning
near my face. Things kept bumping into my legs and nearly upsetting me.
The whole front hall seemed to be filling up with animals. The noise,
together with the roaring of the rain, was tremendous; and I was
beginning to grow a little bit scared when I felt the Doctor take hold
of my arm and shout into my ear.

"Don't be alarmed. Don't be frightened. These are just some of my pets.
I've been away three months and they are glad to see me home again.
Stand still where you are till I strike a light. My Gracious, what a
storm!—Just listen to that thunder!"

So there I stood in the pitch-black dark, while all kinds of animals
which I couldn't see chattered and jostled around me. It was a curious
and a funny feeling. I had often wondered, when I had looked in from the
front gate, what Doctor Dolittle would be like and what the funny little
house would have inside it. But I never imagined it would be anything
like this. Yet somehow after I had felt the Doctor's hand upon my arm I
was not frightened, only confused. It all seemed like some queer dream;
and I was beginning to wonder if I was really awake, when I heard the
Doctor speaking again: