The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle [57]
he is hardly ever seen by ordinary fish. He lives at the bottom of the Deep Hole, and seldom comes out-- And into the Deep Hole, the lower waters of which are muddy, fishes such as we are afraid to go."
The Doctor: "Dear me! That's a terrible disappointment. Are there many of this kind of snail in the sea?"
The Fidgit: "Oh no. He is the only one in existence, since his second wife died long, long ago. He is the last of the Giant Shellfish. He belongs to past ages when the whales were land-animals and all that. They say he is over seventy thousand years old."
The Doctor: "Good Gracious, what wonderful things he could tell me! I do wish I could meet him."
The Fidgit: "Were there any more questions you wished to ask me? This water in your tank is getting quite warm and sickly. I'd like to be put back into the sea as soon as you can spare me."
The Doctor: "Just one more thing: when Christopher Columbus crossed the Atlantic in 1492, he threw overboard two copies of his diary sealed up in barrels. One of them was never found. It must have sunk. I would like to get it for my library. Do you happen to know where it is?"
The Fidgit: "Yes, I do. That too is in the Deep Hole. When the barrel sank the currents drifted it northwards down what we call the Orinoco Slope, till it finally disappeared into the Deep Hole. If it was any other part of the sea I'd try and get it for you; but not there."
The Doctor: "Well, that is all, I think. I hate to put you back into the sea, because I know that as soon as I do, I'll think of a hundred other questions I wanted to ask you. But I must keep my promise. Would you care for anything before you go?--it seems a cold day-- some cracker-crumbs or something?"
The Fidgit: "No, I won't stop. All I want just at present is fresh sea-water."
The Doctor: "I cannot thank you enough for all the information you have given me. You have been very helpful and patient."
The Fidgit: "Pray do not mention it. It has been a real pleasure to be of assistance to the great John Dolittle. You are, as of course you know, already quite famous among the better class of fishes. Goodbye!--and good luck to you, to your ship and to all your plans!"
The Doctor carried the listening-tank to a porthole, opened it and emptied the tank into the sea. "Good-bye!" he murmured as a faint splash reached us from without.
I dropped my pencil on the table and leaned back with a sigh. My fingers were so stiff with writers' cramp that I felt as though I should never be able to open my hand again. But I, at least, had had a night's sleep. As for the poor Doctor, he was so weary that he had hardly put the tank back upon the table and dropped into a chair, when his eyes closed and he began to snore.
In the passage outside Polynesia scratched angrily at the door. I rose and let her in.
"A nice state of affairs!" she stormed. "What sort of a ship is this? There's that colored man upstairs asleep under the wheel; the Doctor asleep down here; and you making pot-hooks in a copy-book with a pencil! Expect the ship to steer herself to Brazil? We're just drifting around the sea like an empty bottle--and a week behind time as it is. What's happened to you all?"
She was so angry that her voice rose to a scream. But it would have taken more than that to wake the Doctor.
I put the note-book carefully in a drawer and went on deck to take the wheel.
THE THIRD CHAPTER
BAD WEATHER
AS soon as I had the Curlew swung round upon her course again I noticed something peculiar: we were not going as fast as we had been. Our favorable wind had almost entirely disappeared.
This, at first, we did not worry about, thinking that at any moment it might spring up again. But the whole day went by; then two days; then a week,--ten days, and the wind grew no stronger. The Curlew just dawdled along at the speed of a toddling babe.
I now saw that the Doctor was becoming uneasy. He kept getting out his sextant (an instrument which tells you what part of the ocean you are in) and making
The Doctor: "Dear me! That's a terrible disappointment. Are there many of this kind of snail in the sea?"
The Fidgit: "Oh no. He is the only one in existence, since his second wife died long, long ago. He is the last of the Giant Shellfish. He belongs to past ages when the whales were land-animals and all that. They say he is over seventy thousand years old."
The Doctor: "Good Gracious, what wonderful things he could tell me! I do wish I could meet him."
The Fidgit: "Were there any more questions you wished to ask me? This water in your tank is getting quite warm and sickly. I'd like to be put back into the sea as soon as you can spare me."
The Doctor: "Just one more thing: when Christopher Columbus crossed the Atlantic in 1492, he threw overboard two copies of his diary sealed up in barrels. One of them was never found. It must have sunk. I would like to get it for my library. Do you happen to know where it is?"
The Fidgit: "Yes, I do. That too is in the Deep Hole. When the barrel sank the currents drifted it northwards down what we call the Orinoco Slope, till it finally disappeared into the Deep Hole. If it was any other part of the sea I'd try and get it for you; but not there."
The Doctor: "Well, that is all, I think. I hate to put you back into the sea, because I know that as soon as I do, I'll think of a hundred other questions I wanted to ask you. But I must keep my promise. Would you care for anything before you go?--it seems a cold day-- some cracker-crumbs or something?"
The Fidgit: "No, I won't stop. All I want just at present is fresh sea-water."
The Doctor: "I cannot thank you enough for all the information you have given me. You have been very helpful and patient."
The Fidgit: "Pray do not mention it. It has been a real pleasure to be of assistance to the great John Dolittle. You are, as of course you know, already quite famous among the better class of fishes. Goodbye!--and good luck to you, to your ship and to all your plans!"
The Doctor carried the listening-tank to a porthole, opened it and emptied the tank into the sea. "Good-bye!" he murmured as a faint splash reached us from without.
I dropped my pencil on the table and leaned back with a sigh. My fingers were so stiff with writers' cramp that I felt as though I should never be able to open my hand again. But I, at least, had had a night's sleep. As for the poor Doctor, he was so weary that he had hardly put the tank back upon the table and dropped into a chair, when his eyes closed and he began to snore.
In the passage outside Polynesia scratched angrily at the door. I rose and let her in.
"A nice state of affairs!" she stormed. "What sort of a ship is this? There's that colored man upstairs asleep under the wheel; the Doctor asleep down here; and you making pot-hooks in a copy-book with a pencil! Expect the ship to steer herself to Brazil? We're just drifting around the sea like an empty bottle--and a week behind time as it is. What's happened to you all?"
She was so angry that her voice rose to a scream. But it would have taken more than that to wake the Doctor.
I put the note-book carefully in a drawer and went on deck to take the wheel.
THE THIRD CHAPTER
BAD WEATHER
AS soon as I had the Curlew swung round upon her course again I noticed something peculiar: we were not going as fast as we had been. Our favorable wind had almost entirely disappeared.
This, at first, we did not worry about, thinking that at any moment it might spring up again. But the whole day went by; then two days; then a week,--ten days, and the wind grew no stronger. The Curlew just dawdled along at the speed of a toddling babe.
I now saw that the Doctor was becoming uneasy. He kept getting out his sextant (an instrument which tells you what part of the ocean you are in) and making