_THE EIGHTEENTH CHAPTER_
SMELLS
“YOUR uncle must now be _found_,” said the Doctor—“that is the nextthing—now that we know he wasn’t thrown into the sea.”
Then Dab-Dab came up to him again and whispered,
“Ask the eagles to look for the man. No living creature can see betterthan an eagle. When they are miles high in the air they can count theants crawling on the ground. Ask the eagles.”
So the Doctor sent one of the swallows off to get some eagles.
And in about an hour the little bird came back with six different kindsof eagles: a Black Eagle, a Bald Eagle, a Fish Eagle, a Golden Eagle,an Eagle-Vulture, and a White-tailed Sea Eagle. Twice as high as theboy they were, each one of them. And they stood on the rail of theship, like round-shouldered soldiers all in a row, stern and still andstiff; while their great, gleaming, black eyes shot darting glanceshere and there and everywhere.
Gub-Gub was scared of them and got behind a barrel. He said he felt asthough those terrible eyes were looking right inside of him to see whathe had stolen for lunch.
And the Doctor said to the eagles,
“A man has been lost—a fisherman with red hair and an anchor marked onhis arm. Would you be so kind as to see if you can find him for us?This boy is the man’s nephew.”
Eagles do not talk very much. And all they answered in their huskyvoices was,
“You may be sure that we will do our best—for John Dolittle.”
Then they flew off—and Gub-Gub came out from behind his barrel to seethem go. Up and up and up they went—higher and higher and higher still.Then, when the Doctor could only just see them, they parted companyand started going off all different ways—North, East, South and West,looking like tiny grains of black sand creeping across the wide, bluesky.
“My gracious!” said Gub-Gub in a hushed voice. “What a height! I wonderthey don’t scorch their feathers—so near the sun!”
They were gone a long time. And when they came back it was almost night.
And the eagles said to the Doctor,
“We have searched all the seas and all the countries and all theislands and all the cities and all the villages in this half of theworld. But we have failed. In the main street of Gibraltar we sawthree red hairs lying on a wheelbarrow before a baker’s door. But theywere not the hairs of a man—they were the hairs out of a fur-coat.Nowhere, on land or water, could we see any sign of this boy’s uncle.And if _we_ could not see him, then he is not to be seen.... For JohnDolittle—we have done our best.”
Then the six great birds flapped their big wings and flew back to theirhomes in the mountains and the rocks.
“Well,” said Dab-Dab, after they had gone, “what are we going to donow? The boy’s uncle _must_ be found—there’s no two ways about that.The lad isn’t old enough to be knocking around the world by himself.Boys aren’t like ducklings—they have to be taken care of till they’requite old.... I wish Chee-Chee were here. He would soon find the man.Good old Chee-Chee! I wonder how he’s getting on!”
“If we only had Polynesia with us,” said the white mouse. “_She_ wouldsoon think of some way. Do you remember how she got us all out ofprison—the second time? My, but she was a clever one!”
“I don’t think so much of those eagle-fellows,” said Jip. “They’re justconceited. They may have very good eyesight and all that; but when youask them to find a man for you, they can’t do it—and they have thecheek to come back and say that nobody else could do it. They’re justconceited—like that collie in Puddleby. And I don’t think a whole lotof those gossipy old porpoises either. All they could tell us was thatthe man isn’t in the sea. We don’t want to know where he _isn’t_—wewant to know where he _is_.”
“Oh, don’t talk so much,” said Gub-Gub. “It’s easy to talk; but itisn’t so easy to find a man when you have got the whole world to hunthim in. Maybe the fisherman’s hair has turned white, worrying aboutthe boy; and that was why the eagles didn’t find him. You don’t knoweverything. You’re just talking. You are not doing anything to help.You couldn’t find the boy’s uncle any more than the eagles could—youcouldn’t do as well.”
“‘You stupid piece of warm bacon!’”]
“Couldn’t I?” said the dog. “That’s all you know, you stupid piece ofwarm bacon! I haven’t begun to try yet, have I? You wait and see!”
Then Jip went to the Doctor and said,
“Ask the boy if he has anything in his pockets that belonged to hisuncle, will you, please?”
So the Doctor asked him. And the boy showed them a gold ring which hewore on a piece of string around his neck because it was too big forhis finger. He said his uncle gave it to him when they saw the piratescoming.
Jip smelt the ring and said,
“That’s no good. Ask him if he has anything else that belonged to hisuncle.”
Then the boy took from his pocket a great, big red handkerchief andsaid, “This was my uncle’s too.”
As soon as the boy pulled it out, Jip shouted,
“_Snuff_, by Jingo!—Black Rappee snuff. Don’t you smell it? His uncletook snuff—Ask him, Doctor.”
The Doctor questioned the boy again; and he said, “Yes. My uncle took alot of snuff.”
“Fine!” said Jip. “The man’s as good as found. ’Twill be as easy asstealing milk from a kitten. Tell the boy I’ll find his uncle for himin less than a week. Let us go upstairs and see which way the wind isblowing.”
“But it is dark now,” said the Doctor. “You can’t find him in the dark!”
“I don’t need any light to look for a man who smells of Black Rappeesnuff,” said Jip as he climbed the stairs. “If the man had a hardsmell, like string, now—or hot water, it would be different. But_snuff_!—Tut, tut!”
“Does hot water have a smell?” asked the Doctor.
“Certainly it has,” said Jip. “Hot water smells quite different fromcold water. It is warm water—or ice—that has the really difficultsmell. Why, I once followed a man for ten miles on a dark night by thesmell of the hot water he had used to shave with—for the poor fellowhad no soap.... Now then, let us see which way the wind is blowing.Wind is very important in long-distant smelling. It mustn’t be toofierce a wind—and of course it must blow the right way. A nice, steady,damp breeze is the best of all.... Ha!—This wind is from the North.”
Then Jip went up to the front of the ship and smelt the wind; and hestarted muttering to himself,
“Tar; Spanish onions; kerosene oil; wet raincoats; crushedlaurel-leaves; rubber burning; lace-curtains being washed—No, mymistake, lace-curtains hanging out to dry; and foxes—hundreds of’em—cubs; and—”
“Can you really smell all those different things in this one wind?”asked the Doctor.
“Why, of course!” said Jip. “And those are only a few of the easysmells—the strong ones. Any mongrel could smell those with a cold inthe head. Wait now, and I’ll tell you some of the harder scents thatare coming on this wind—a few of the dainty ones.”
Then the dog shut his eyes tight, poked his nose straight up in the airand sniffed hard with his mouth half-open.
For a long time he said nothing. He kept as still as a stone. He hardlyseemed to be breathing at all. When at last he began to speak, itsounded almost as though he were singing, sadly, in a dream.
“Bricks,” he whispered, very low—“old yellow bricks, crumbling withage in a garden-wall; the sweet breath of young cows standing in amountain-stream; the lead roof of a dove-cote—or perhaps a granary—withthe mid-day sun on it; black kid gloves lying in a bureau-drawer ofwalnut-wood; a dusty road with a horses’ drinking-trough beneath thesycamores; little mushrooms bursting through the rotting leaves;and—and—and—”
“Any parsnips?” asked Gub-Gub.
“No,” said Jip. “You always think of things to eat. No parsnipswhatever. And no snuff—plenty of pipes and cigarettes, and a fewcigars. But no snuff. We must wait till the wind changes to the South.”
“Yes, it’s a poor wind, that,” said Gub-Gub. “I think you’re a fake,Jip. Who ever heard of finding a man in the middle of the ocean just bysmell! I told you you couldn’t do it.”
“Look here,” said Jip, getting really angry. “You’re going to get abite on the nose in a minute! You needn’t think that just becausethe Doctor won’t let us give you what you deserve, that you can be ascheeky as you like!”
“Stop quarreling!” said the Doctor—“Stop it! Life’s too short. Tell me,Jip, where do you think those smells are coming from?”
“From Devon and Wales—most of them,” said Jip—“The wind is coming thatway.”
“Well, well!” said the Doctor. “You know that’s really quiteremarkable—quite. I must make a note of that for my new book. I wonderif you could train me to smell as well as that.... But no—perhaps I’mbetter off the way I am. ‘Enough is as good as a feast,’ they say.Let’s go down to supper. I’m quite hungry.”
“So am I,” said Gub-Gub.