Hugh Lofting - Doctor Dolittle's Post Office

"Pearls!" whispered Dab–Dab in an awed voice, gazing down into the Doctor's palm. "Pink pearls!"

"My! Aren't they handsome?" murmured the Doctor. "And did you ever see such large ones? Each one of those pearls, Dab–Dab, is worth a fortune. Who the dickens is this that sent them to me, anyhow?"

And he turned to the letter again.

"It's from a spoonbill," said Dab–Dab. "I know their writing. They are a sort of a cross between a curlew and a snipe. They like messing around lonely seacoast places, hunting for shellfish and sea worms and stuff like that."

"Well, where is it written from?" asked the Doctor. "What do you make that address out to be—at the top of the page there?"

Dab–Dab screwed up her eyes and peered at it closely.

"It looks to me," she said, "like the Harmattan Rocks."

"Where is that?" asked the Doctor.

"I have no idea," said Dab–Dab. "But Speedy will know."

And she went off to fetch the Skimmer.

Speedy said, yes, he knew—the Harmattan Rocks were a group of small islands off the coast of West Africa, about sixty miles further to the northward.

"That's curious," said the Doctor. "I wouldn't have been so surprised if they had come from the South Sea Islands. But it is rather unusual to find pearls of any size or beauty in these waters. Well, these must be sent back to the spoonbill's children—by registered parcel post, of course. Though, to tell you the truth, I hate to part with them—they are so lovely. They can't go before to–morrow, anyway. I wonder where I can keep them in the meantime. One has to be frightfully careful with gems as valuable as these. You had better not tell anyone about them, Dab–Dab—except Jip the watchman and the pushmi–pullyu. They must take it in turns to mount guard at the door all night. Men will do all sorts of things for pearls. We'll keep it a secret and send them right back first thing to–morrow morning."

Even while the Doctor was speaking he noticed a shadow fall across the desk at which he was standing. He looked up. And there at the information window was the ugliest man's face he had ever seen, staring in at the beautiful pearls that still lay on the palm of his hand.

The Doctor, annoyed and embarrassed, forgot for the first time in his post–office career to be polite.

"What do you want?" he asked, thrusting the pearls into his pocket.

"I want a postal order for ten shillings," said the man. "I am going to send some money to my sick wife."

The Doctor made out the postal order and took the money, which the man handed through the window.

"Here you are," he said.

Then the man left the post office and the Doctor watched him go.

"That was a queer–looking customer, wasn't he?" he said to Dab–Dab.

"He was, indeed," said the duck. "I'm not surprised his wife is sick, if she has a husband with a face like that."

"I wonder who he is," said John Dolittle. "It isn't often we have white men coming in here. I don't much like the looks of him."

The following day the pearls were wrapped up again the way they had arrived, and after a letter had been written by the Doctor explaining to the spoonbill what the "pebbles" really were, they were sent off by registered parcel post to the Harmattan Rocks.

The bird chosen to take the package happened to be one of the thrushes that had brought the Brussels sprouts from England. These birds were still staying in the neighborhood. And though a thrush was a somewhat small bird to carry parcel post, the package was a very little one and the Doctor had nobody else to send. So after explaining to the thrush that registered mail should be guarded very carefully by postmen, the Doctor sent the pearls off.

Then he went to call on the King, as he did every so often. And in the course of conversation John Dolittle asked His Majesty if he knew who the white stranger might be that had called at the houseboat for a postal order.

After he had listened to the description of the man's cross–eyed, ugly face, the King said, yes, he knew him very well. He was a pearl fisherman, who spent most of his time in the Pacific Ocean, where fishing for pearls was more common. But, the King said, he often came hanging around these parts, where he was known to be a great villain who would do anything to get pearls or money. Jack Wilkins was his name.

The Doctor, on hearing this, felt glad that he had already got the pink pearls safely off to their owner by registered mail. Then he told the King that he hoped shortly to take a holiday because he was overworked and needed a rest. The King asked where he was going, and the Doctor said he thought of taking a week's canoe trip up the coast toward the Harmattan Rocks.

"Well," said His Majesty, "if you are going in that direction you might call on an old friend of mine, Chief Nyam–Nyam. He owns the country in those parts and the Harmattan Rocks themselves. He and his people are frightfully poor, though. But he is honest—and I think you will like him."

"All right," said the Doctor, "I'll call on him with your compliments."

The next day, leaving Speedy, Cheapside and Jip in charge of the post office, the Doctor got into his canoe with Dab–Dab and paddled off to take his holiday. On the way out he noticed a schooner, the ship of Jack Wilkins, the pearl fisherman, at anchor near the entrance to Fantippo Harbor.

"They reminded him of old broken down cab horses"

Toward evening the Doctor arrived at a small settlement of straw huts, the village of Chief Nyam–Nyam. Calling on the Chief with an introduction from King Koko, the Doctor was well received. He found, however, that the country over which this chief ruled was indeed in a very poor state. For years powerful neighbors on either side had made war on the old Chief and robbed him of his best farming lands, till now his people were crowded onto a narrow strip of rocky shore where very little food could be grown. The Doctor was particularly distressed by the thinness of the few chickens pecking about in the streets. They reminded him of old broken–down cab–horses, he said.

While he was talking to the Chief (who seemed to be a kindly old man) Speedy swept into the Chief's hut in a great state of excitement.

"Doctor," he cried, "the mail has been robbed! The thrush has come back to the post office and says his package was taken from him on the way. The pearls are gone! "

"Great heavens!" cried the Doctor, springing up. "The pearls gone? And they were registered, too!"

"Yes," said Speedy, "here's the thrush himself. He'll tell you all about it."

And going to the door, he called in the bird who had carried the registered package.

"Doctor," said the thrush, who was also very upset and breathless, "it wasn't my fault. I never let those pearls out of my sight. I flew straight off for the Harmattan Rocks. But part of the trip I had to go over land, if I took the shortest cut. And on the way I saw a sister of mine whom I hadn't met in a long time, sitting in a tree in the jungle below me. And I thought it would be no harm if I went and talked to her a while. So I flew down and she was very glad to see me. I couldn't talk properly with the string of the package in my mouth, so I put the parcel down on the bough of the tree behind me—right near me, you understand—and went on talking to my sister. And when I turned around to pick it up again it was gone."

"Perhaps it slipped off the tree," said the Doctor, "and fell down into the underbrush."

"I put the parcel down"

"It couldn't have," said the thrush. "I put it into a little hollow in the bark of the bough. It just couldn't have slipped or rolled. Somebody must have taken it."